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#but its pure fluff so its ok
sunnyyyteaaa · 3 months
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First chilly day
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🌻 part 1!
I'm making a comic!
this takes place some time after the movie and the boys are finally leaving the lair for some much needed fresh air :D
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redr0sewrites · 2 months
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Sick!Hazbin Hotel x Reader Hcs
i love reverse comfort sm. im also currently being brutally murdered by allergies but i prefer comforting others so here we are
🥀 Cw: fluff, crack, teensy bit of angst with comfort
🥀 Pairing(s): Lucifer x reader, Alastor x reader, Vox x reader, Adam x reader
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Lucifer:
sick? him? please, the king of hell doesn't get sick!
thats what he claims anyways
lucifer brushes nearly everything off as just plain allergies, he could literally have a 103 fever and be shaking on the floor and would still be pouting and saying he's fine
the thing about him tho is that he's easy to take care of- after a little coaxing lucifer just sighs and nods glumly before pretty much submitting himself to your care
once he's admitted hes sick tho, he wants you around him 24/7
lucifer wants cuddles, hugs, kisses, he just gets so clingy when he's feeling under the weather
THIS MAN LITERALLY BURNS UP WHEN HE'S SICK ITS ALWAYS THE LITTLE ONES WITH THE HIGHEST RAGING FEVERS THAT LAST FOR DAYS like he'll be sweating and shivering and crying he gets hit HARD when he's sick and it happens so suddenly too- like one day he's fine and then the next he looks like he's one small wind away from collapsing
he lowkey feels bad about asking for things when he's sick so he'll say something offhand like "yk im in the mood for soup" and hopes you get the message
ABSOLUTELY THE TYPE TO GET FEVER DREAMS AND START RAMBLING WHEN HES SICK
like he'll wake up from a nap and still be half asleep and he just starts genuinely rambling about literally the most obscure things
lucifer definitely gets nightmares even when he isn't sick, but when hes feeling like shit and is so delirious he can't tell reality from fiction? be prepared for him to wake up crying and shaking, he just gets so so scared :(
lucifer feels bad about you taking care of him and wants to help, but will lowkey end up pushing himself too hard. PLEASE reassure him and tell him it's alright he'll literally melt
once its all over, lucifer will genuinely trust you more after you saw him in such a vulnerable state and is much more likely to come to you instead of hiding how he's feeling in the future
Alastor:
alastor? weak? lmao no
he would literally rather die than admit he's sick like he would literally just keep pushing on
alastor is one of those people that has an iron immune system like he VERY rarely gets sick but when he does its like torture
to even be alastor's partner you'd have to know him for a long time and you'd probably be able to read him pretty well (at least compared to other people), yet even you sometimes miss his sickness in the earlier stages
alastors biggest tell tale sign of being sick? exhaustion. he very rarely sleeps on the regular, but when he's sick that all catches up to him
he also gets more irritable and a little less composed, he'd be more prone to getting angry and would lash out if anyone asked if he was ok
alastors ears would also be turned back slightly, like most animals do when they're being aggressive, but its pretty much only obvious to people who know him closely
alastor never wants to be vulnerable or weak but you notice that his eyelids keep drifting of their own accord, and how irritable he's been, and it clicks to you that he's obviously not feeling well
approach him about it in private, while alastor does trust you he still doesn't want others to knowm
no matter how much you try he will not lay down, take medicine, or do anything (at least at first)
alastor genuinely thinks that he can just push through on his own and lowkey thinks you're worrying too much
however after two weeks of pure suffering and exhaustion, combined with no sleep and your irritation at his lack of will to take care of himself, alastor finally breaks
he'd prob come to your room at like 4 in the morning and just curl up on the edge of the bed, shivering a little but staying quiet
you wake up to him fast asleep, his ears twitching every once and a while as he rests peacefully near you
get a cool towel and lay it on his forehead to break the fever, and he'll just keep sleeping
he probably wouldn't wake up for at least a few hours, months of lost sleep are catching up to him at this point, giving you the opportunity to make him some soup and medicine
alastor will stir a little when you get out of bed but wont wake up, but once he does wake up he wants you to come back
when he's sick he wants you to be nearby, alastor isn't the touchiest person and being sick makes him feel gross, so he wouldn't want to be touched but would want you arround just to know you're there
this is probably the first step in him being more open to vulnerability around you, and while it may have been a bit of an irritating process to get him back to his usual healthy status, it's definitely worth it as he begins to trust you more
Vox:
lowkey a man child (affectionate)
vox is one of those guys who will take care of himself when he's sick, but he'll complain about it every step of the way
i think he's pretty responsible when he's sick, he'll take the day off and relax but won't do much other than that
he likes when you pamper him though, and a part of him lowkey enjoys being sick because he just gets to have your full attention all of the time (as if he doesn't already💀)
vox would be irritated about showing weakness and not being in control, but he wouldn't be irritated at you
if an employee was being too nosy about his wellbeing? yea he's pissed but if you're the one taking care of him, he'll just sigh and let you do what you want
VOX IS ONE OF THOSE PEOPLE WHOS LITERALLY ALWAYS COLD AND ITS AMPLIFIED WHEN HES SICK
he becomes like a literal ice cube he's SHIVERING and everything
vox has the cutest sneezes too, he glitches out and denies how cute his sneezes are but they really are adorable
vox takes like 2 baths per day when he's sick he hates feeling unclean, and def wants you to join him in the bath (just to relax, get your mind out of the gutter)
vox would be a little pissed about missing work, i think he's a bit of a workaholic and might try to work in bed or sneak some paperwork behind your back
it doesn't work though because he just ends up passing out anyway
vox is big on sleeping when he's sick he's definitely the type to just sleep it off and thats that
like he CRASHES in bed and just does not get up for hours
he sleeps like the dead too, his screen is blank and he barely moves in his sleep
like lucifer, he has fever dreams but they lean more on the weird side rather than the sad side
its funny but instead of talking more when sick, vox actually talks much less. he starts getting super quiet and a lot more needy for your attention
vox is more than happy to return to work and be back on his feet, but will send you a little thank you gift and pamper you in return for taking care of him
Adam:
manchild x2 (also affectionate)
adam DREADS getting sick like he genuinely hates it so much, he sees it as one of his own flaws and it makes him lowkey disgusted at himself
he whines like a baby over a common cold, its almost sad how the slightest sickness will make him act like he's on his death bed
adam whines and complains whenever you aren't around him, he wants cuddles and kisses and is 10x more clingy when he's sick
he has little to no appetite when he's actually sick but gets a huge appetite right after
like you'll have to force him to eat at least a piece of toast per day while he's actually feverish but once he's in recovery he's literally FAMISHED and will ask for so much food
he barely eats or drinks while hes sick it just feels icky to him
i also think he's the type to not want to move like he just collapses on his bed and barely moves an inch (unless you force him)
adam exaggerates when he's barely sick and then underplays it when he's genuinely really sick its lowkey so confusing
like he could have pneuomonia and be half dead and say he's fine but he could have the most common cold and complain foreverrr
he doesn't think you're genuine when you say you want to help him and take care of him, he thinks its just a joke since nobody has ever really taken care of him before
like sure he's been told what to do and bossed around and treated him like a foolish child, but no one has ever sat with him while he's sick and held his hand yk?
while he can be irritable and annoying while he's sick, he apologizes afterwards
its one of the few times he ever apologizes but he genuinely feels bad about lashing out
adam isn't used to being below someone when it comes to status or health and relaxing and letting someone else take care of him is kind of foreign for him, but you both work it out over time
while he isn't the easiest to take care of, he genuinely appreciates that you want to help him and wants to return the favor someday
I WILL MAKE A PT 2 OF THIS WITH MORE FEM CHARACTERS OR WITH HELLUVA BOSS CHARACTERS BUT I DIDNT WANT TO CROWD UP THIS POST TOO MUCH!!!!! ALSO SORRY FOR ANY SPELLING MISTAKES I WROTE THIS WHILE HALF ASLEEP ♥️ HOPE YALL ENJOYED THIS TEEHEE
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i dream, now, of a normal life with you ; suguru geto
synopsis; suguru isn’t a lightweight. this is your first time actually seeing him drunk — though maybe it shouldn’t come as a surprise that he’d be the sappy kind.
word count; 9.4k (..... i got carried away ok)
contents; suguru geto/reader, gn!reader (shoko calls u "girl" but in a "girl help" way not a gendered way), written w a no curses au in mind, sugu is a sappy emotional drunk i said what i said, sickening amounts of fluff, depictions of intoxication, reader is averse to alcohol, sugu wants to marry u so bad it makes him look silly, lots of emotions & lots of love <33
a/n; this fic has been ROTTING in my drafts for the longest time but its super precious to me and now i finally get to post it!! @softgirlgonehaywire & @hayakawalove ily ty for being interested in sappy!sugu this is a treat for u <33
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the bar isn’t all that far off from your apartment.
it’s a short distance, really. walk straight ahead, until you reach the record store that suguru likes to frequent, and then take a right; a minute or two uphill, and then you’ll be able to see the blue of the sea. once you’re there, all that’s left is to look for mellow golden lighting and descend a set of stairs.
which is what you’re currently doing, popsicle in hand, loose clothes and comfortable shoes on as you wallow in the mellow summer evening. everything is blue — the dark shade of the sky, and your ice pop, pastel and sweet, tasting of pure youth. the hoodie you threw on is a rich cobalt, suguru’s in name but yours in spirit. he only wears it when you complain that it doesn’t smell like him anymore.
humming a jolly tune, you take a sharp turn, allowing the summer sensations to curl around your subconscious. blissed out and content. 
you were so, so bored — stuck at home with no one to keep you company, no one to mumble snarky commentary about the show playing on tv, no one to run their fingers through your hair while your head rests in their lap. pure torture, really, being faced with the consequences of your own actions. after you stupidly told suguru you’d be okay on your own.
he even asked you twice, just to be sure, even told you that he’d prefer you to join him on his night out. and again, you declined; because it’s been so long since he had some time alone with shoko and satoru, and you were feeling a little tired anyways. 
so he gave in. heading out, with a promise to bring back a tub of your favorite ice cream, leaving you with the apartment to yourself. did you come to regret your little white lie? maybe. possibly.
but everything worked out in the end.
a pleasant breeze caresses your skin, brushing against the apple of your cheek, and you watch as peach blossoms dance in a faraway park. cicadas cling to every tree in sight, buzzing a pleasant tune, mingling with the giddy giggles of high school students enjoying their summer vacation. it’s been raining for a couple of days; you can still smell it in the air, feel it in the low tinge of humidity clinging to your skin, still hear suguru’s insistence that you bring an umbrella with you to work — just in case.
but today, the skies were clear, and it’s late, not too humid but not too chilly. and the stars are out, glimmering in that fuzzy sea of mellow cerulean, leaking out like little marbles cast into space. falling down, down, down, close enough for you to see. from here, it looks as if they’re waving. you resist the urge to wave back.
peace. bliss. a nostalgia so vibrant you could drown in it, feel it lick at your ankles like soft sea foam.
eager to scratch a certain itch in your brain, attention span zipping from one street vendor to the pop music blasting from a couple streets away, you take your phone out from your pocket. absently scrolling through your messages, until you get to the ones shoko sent you just ten minutes ago. the ones that brought you out here, into a summer evening soon to slip into nightfall, ones that have you walking to the bar you chose not to join them at.
messages that still have you pushing back a bout of giggles, chewing lazily on your ramune ice pop with a giddy smile.
sho 🚬: come get ur man sho 🚬: he’s drunk. sho 🚬: like DRUNK drunk 
you: …… um.  you: what happened to hi? hello?? good evening???
sho 🚬: no time for that. look sho 🚬: [ image ] sho 🚬: he looks so goofy lol
unable to resist the temptation, you press the pad of your finger against the screen — opening the image attachment, just to drink in the sight once again. what you see is a certain man, slumped over in his seat, cheek smooshed against the wooden table in front of him. messy hair, no longer tied into a bun, cascading down his shoulders and back. from the little you can see of his face, his skin is flushed a light pink, and his eyes are closed, fingers still curled around an empty beer jug. 
like a sleepy puppy.
a coo tiptoes on your tongue, but you bite down on your lip in an effort to stop it, just grinning at your screen with pure adoration in your lovesick eyes. 
he’s drunk, alright. an unfamiliar sight, but not at all unwelcome. because he’s cute, terribly so, so cute that it hurts, even when he’s obviously wasted. it’s almost funny — you know their drinking habits. shoko holds her liquor so well that it’s a little horrifying, and satoru can get wasted if he has more than a sip of it. and suguru?
suguru never gets drunk. he barely even drinks. out of consideration for satoru, maybe, or you. probably both. that’s just how he is; you thought he hated fish for years, because he was always so eager to give you the best bites of the sushi rolls you ordered. turns out he was just indulging you.
so, to be frank — the idea of him suddenly being drunk is a little bit of a shocker. but it’s also kind of exciting, in a ridiculous way. new, fun, just what you need when you’re bored out of your mind.
(or maybe you’re just happy to have an excuse to go see him.)
you: NOOOO  you: MY BABY 😭😭😭 you: what did u guys DO to him???
sho 🚬: satoru and him made a bet 😐 you know how they are sho 🚬: he drank like a divorced mother of four ive never seen something so beautiful
you: …. you: have i told you that you’re both terrible
sho 🚬: u love us <33 sho 🚬: anyway he’s been asking me where u are for the past ten minutes pls come i can’t stand him sho 🚬: he’s crying.
you: HUH???????? you: WHY????????????????
sho 🚬: dude i dont know sho 🚬: please come get him he’s being so sappy that satoru’s abt to throw up
you: ???? okok 😭 you: im omw ig??
sho 🚬: girl hurry he just told me he genuinely appreciates my presence in his life 😐
an exhale — laced with deep amusement — drops from your lips and spills into the summer air. it tastes like a memory from long ago.
slipping your phone back into your pocket, you raise your gaze, searching for a glimmer of goldish light. soaking up the scent of the ocean, sparkling on the border of your peripheral. salty and sweet.
no matter how hard you try, all you can think of is that certain someone, waiting for you to pick him up. your mind keeps drifting back to the way his eyes crinkle when he laughs, the way his hair falls over his face when he leans down, the sound he makes when he stretches in the morning.
you want to see him. badly. you want him near, want to feel the familiar warmth of his presence, want to see him smile and laugh and sigh and raise his eyebrow at your antics. 
so there isn’t any time to waste. you’re walking towards that familiar set of stairs before you know it, shoes hitting the asphalt with a mantra of satisfying thuds. 
and when you step in through the opened door, you’re immediately engulfed by a sense of overflowing comfort. mellow, warm lights, the soft buzzing of static from an old radio, low citypop beats trailing through the air. the bartender by the counter gives you a curt nod in greeting, before motioning towards a certain table. it’s over in the corner, covered in beer jugs and fancy glasses, with three beauties seated around it.
satoru notices you first.
a bright grin finds its way onto his face, and he waves you over giddily, happily. barely contained excitement in the motion. shoko’s gaze follows his, flitting over to meet yours — and you think she mouths an oh, thank god, before taking another sip from her glass. she brings a hand up in greeting when you come closer, and you can’t see her smile, but there’s a crinkle to her eyes; a warmth in them that you’d never miss.
”hey, guys.”
”yo!” satoru chirps, beaming in a way that’s so distinctly him it makes you soften. he looks so comfortable in his seat, with a cocktail you know is non-alcoholic and probably too sweet for anyone but him to stomach. giggling to himself, leaning over to poke suguru’s cheek, with a teasing declaration of your chaperone is here! 
and there he is. 
the man you came here for, still slumped over in his seat, unresponsive. not for long. as the lilt of your voice reaches his ears, his eyes flutter open, in a bout of recognition — even in the drunken state he’s in. an immediate sensation of familiarity creeps into his veins, rousing him from his cozy, half-asleep stupor. 
he doesn’t even grumble over the way satoru keeps poking at his cheek, interest and attention focused solely on a certain someone. you, your presence. 
and when your eyes meet his, he lights up.
it’s precious, you think, how his eyes widen, blooming with genuine affection, so endearing you could kiss him right then and there. his face is flushed, and his hair is tousled, and the warm lighting of the bar paints him in a golden hue. so perfect for him, your star in the sky. 
a smile spreads across his lips, big and happy and warm, and you can’t help but mirror it. 
(gosh, he’s cute.)
with a dizzy kind of eagerness, suguru sits up, palms flush against the table to support his weight. he stumbles out of his seat, paying no heed to satoru’s amused huff of careful! or the rattling of fragile glass.
it only takes a few uncoordinated steps for him to reach you, where you haphazardly lean against the wall, watching him amusedly. that delighted smile never leaves his lips, as his arms go to curl around your waist, big and heavy, his jaw finding its rightful place on the curve of your shoulder. 
”baby,” he drawls, fond and affectionate. breathing you in. ”sweetheart. my angel.”
a flustered puff of laughter slips from your lips, stumbling a little under his weight. his voice is syrupy sweet, overflowing with love and adoration, soft in a way that has your knees buckling. a little raspy. murmured right into your ear, sending pleasant shivers down your spine. 
he’s too sweet for you to handle, really, even sweeter than satoru’s overpriced cocktail. and he smells the same as always; a blend between coffee grounds, cigarette smoke and rain, one that never fails to soothe you. even when it’s tangled up with a vague but vivid stench of alcohol, courtesy of the drinking he’s been doing until now. 
you crinkle your nose, but don’t let go of him, nuzzling your cheek against the side of his head. words buzzing with warmth. ”hey, sugu.”
suguru only squeezes you tighter, content to have you in his arms. finally, his world makes sense again. all he can do is bask in your voice, warmth, scent — he’s just so enamored by it all. almost in a trance, heartstrings dancing along to the beat of your presence, your very existence, that appears to him as something almost angelic. soft and familiar, something that feels right at home when it’s tucked into his embrace. where he can keep it safe.
”missed you…” he murmurs, sleepy, smearing an open mouthed kiss against the crook of your neck. ”i love you s’much…”
a chuckle. ”i love you too,” you echo, running a steady hand over his back. your voice is laced with something teasing, but awfully fond. ”you really are drunk, aren’t you?”
”mm…” he only hums, cheek pressed flush against your soft skin. ”’m sorry…” he mumbles, stifling a yawn. he sounds a little guilty, and it makes you want to coo. pull his cheek a little.
instead, you laugh. amusement vowen into the bubbly noise. ”it’s fine, sugu. c’mon — let’s go home, alright?”
at that, satoru visibly reacts, placing his glass on the table with a soft clink before getting up to stretch. he grabs suguru’s discarded jacket, letting it hang off his arm as he walks over to the two of you.
”i’ll help you carry him,” he smiles, always so dependable. so ready to be of service. maybe a little too eager to carry suguru around like a sack of potatoes. 
a smile blooms on your face, and satoru gives you a playful wink. shoko just leans back in her seat, stretching idly. it feels like home with them there.
”i’ll stay here,” she hums, a faint grin tugging at her lips. ”he’s your problem now.”
”got it.” you meet her lidded eyes, sharing an amused look as satoru tries to coax suguru away from you, pulling at his cheek while he whines and clings to the fabric of your clothing.
finally, he relents, and you look back at the table with a grin. ”see you later, sho’.”
a smile is the only response you get, but it’s enough. it’s her, the same as always, still sipping from a glass of expensive whiskey and raising her hand in a silent see you. relaxed and cool, and so very lovely. 
with one arm over satoru’s shoulder and the other clinging to your hoodie, suguru stirs.
”shoko…” he groans, craning his head to look back at her, even as satoru makes a move to leave. ”don’t drink too much. and watch out for strangers…” 
he trails off, blinking drowsily, a protective tone to his voice. worried. awfully like him. neither you nor satoru can resist the chuckle you indulge in, but shoko just rolls her hazel eyes.
”i don’t need to hear that from you,” she scoffs, tinged with amusement and what you’re almost certain is embarrassment. there’s a fondness to her snark, one you’d never miss. 
(shoko will always be shoko. you know that she appreciates suguru’s concern, even if she doesn’t want to show it.)
”alright, c’mon,” satoru quips, slapping suguru’s back with a grin. ”there, there, big guy. let’s get you home, hm?”
just as you suspected, he doesn’t let you help, doing all the heavy lifting on his own. not breaking a single sweat, flaunting his strength as he hoists suguru up the steps — while you do nothing but follow, a light jacket hanging off your arm. 
cold midnight air embraces you, slathering your cheeks with the essence of summer as your shoes meet the asphalt. satoru smiles, a low exhale escaping him, dusting off his hands. ”there we go.”
suguru stumbles towards you, no longer caged in, slumping against your shoulder with a satisfied sigh. blinking slowly, as you link arms, his muddled senses adjusting to the outside world. a pleasantly blue sky, a sun long set, and a string of lamp posts to light up the street ahead of you. artificial fireflies, watching over the town you love so dearly.
you part your lips, and a soft exhale slips out, dripping with fondness. ”thanks, satoru,” you smile, meeting his gaze.
”don’t mention it,” he waves you off, but you know he appreciates it; always eager to be praised. ”can you bring him back by yourself?”
”yeah, we’ll be fine. it’s close, anyway. don’t worry.”
a hum buzzes in his throat, and his cobalt gaze drifts upwards, to bask in the starry sky. a moment passes, and then he’s looking back at you and suguru; a soft and earnest smile playing at his lips. so sincere you want to reach out, cup his cheek, make sure he knows how loved he is.
”i’ll go back to shoko, then,” he chirps. bubbly and graceful, giddy and playful. always so lovely. ”gotta make sure she stays out of trouble.”
a chuckle. you mirror his smile. ”of course.”
and with that, your precious best friend makes a move to return to the bar, taking a decisive step away from you. before he can get too far, though, a certain hand reaches out to hold onto his sleeve — keeping him still.
satoru turns around. blinking once, then twice, in confusion; faced with none other than suguru, still slumped against you. a little out of it, sleepy and disoriented, yawning quietly, but his eyes are as clear as ever. caring and sentimental. 
his gaze cuts to the bone of things. it’s something you’ve grown used to.
”thanks, satoru,” he murmurs, letting go of said man’s shirt. the words that spill from his lips are straightforward, a little tactless, but overflowing with earnest appreciation. ”you’re my best friend.”
a moment passes. the stars burn in silence.
satoru blinks.
then he sighs, with what you know is nothing more than feigned annoyance. masking his embarrassment, the same way shoko did, the same way suguru always does. your repressed, beloved little losers. 
”yeah, yeah. i got it,” he pats suguru’s shoulder, once, twice. not looking at him. ”you’re such a sap, you know that? geez.”
a grin crawls up to rest on your lips, fresh mischief blooming in your eyes. ”not gonna call him your best friend back?” you tease, a soft tilt of your head.
satoru gives you a glare, playful, one you can’t physically see from behind his shades but still somehow sense. ”don’t add fuel to the fire,” he grins, with a halfhearted flick to your forehead.
before you can bicker further, suguru yawns, loudly, closing his eyes and nuzzling into you. you share an amused look with satoru, until he shakes his head fondly.
”take care of him, alright?”
”i will. you guys have fun!”
and at last, satoru turns on his heel, coupled with a smile and a lazy wave. but suguru calls out to him once more, unwilling to part ways without saying his piece. so sentimental, so loving it comes to him like breathing.
”bye-bye, satoru,” he slurs, voice loud enough for the entire street to hear, tired and honest. raising his arm in a lazy wave. ”i love you!”
”go home already!” satoru shouts, descending down the steps with a flush to his cheeks that you’ll tease him for later. his soft laughter is carried away by the breeze, sweet and saccharine.
(satoru will always be satoru. you know that he loves suguru back, even if he doesn’t want to say it out loud.)
with a faint chuckle, melting into the summer air, you tug on suguru’s arm. ”alright,” you chirp, looking up at him. ”let’s go!”
he seems a little more awake now, at least, trying to match your steps. meanwhile, you do what you can to support his weight; he’s stumbling a bit, but you don’t mind. if anything, his weight is a comfort, your arms linked together like a lucky charm. a safe harbour.
suguru is acting kind of like a big puppy, gazing at you with hearts in his eyes. a little meek, clinging to you, trailing after you pliantly. he’s a little dizzy, still, and he needs you to get back home in one piece. it makes you puff out your chest, stand up straighter. makes you feel protective of your 6’2 boyfriend, all toned muscle and broad shoulders, the personification of scary dog privilege. but he needs you right now.
a soft bout of laughter spills into the air, as you try to ignore his heavy stare. it’s impossible, though — so you turn your gaze to meet his own, and he practically glows under the sound of your giggles, that cheeky smile you’re wearing. ”you okay, suguru?”
his eyes soften. silently, he runs a thumb over the knots of your knuckle, smoothing down your skin, thick fingers intertwined with yours. 
he looks deep into your eyes, and a soft hum of affirmation buzzes in his throat. 
”i’m just so happy,” he grins, with a sincerity that has your heart doing flips inside your ribcage. it flutters, flutters, flutters, in the wake of his unbridled joy. it buzzes like it wants to break out.
suguru has this dreamy look on his face, one you can do nothing but admire, painted over with fluorescent moonlight and pure summer bliss. one that reminds you a little of high school rooftops, midnight road trips, what it means to be in love.
you nudge him, softly, with the arm that’s tangled up in his own. tilting your head, teasing words on the tip of your tongue. ”you know, i never took you for a sappy drunk.”
suguru's only response is a cute little mmrn, steps heavy as he leans on you for support. trying his best to carry himself, not wanting to inconvenience you, but it’s just a little tough. especially when he feels this soft, this grateful — this blessed.
a giddy, dreamy smile tugs at his lips. his amber gaze travels up, towards the little pale dots of star clusters all across the night sky, gleaming like milk poured over rich coffee. then he exhales; a soft, blissful little sound. ”i’m so lucky.”
a moment passes, silently. in the distance, cicadas buzz. with a patient smile, you admire him, the reflection of starlight in his eyes. suguru has this forlorn look, etched into his expression, like he’s seeing something that isn’t quite there.
”i have satoru and shoko…” he mumbles, just loud enough for you to hear. as if he’s tasting the words on his tongue, as if he can’t quite believe them himself. that’s how lucky he feels, sometimes.
a nod. ”they love you a bunch, you know?”
(they do. they’re both horrible at saying it out loud, but you know they do. you know that they love suguru, just as much as he loves them, even if none of them are good at putting it into words. perhaps they don’t really even need to, in the first place.)
suguru mirrors the soft nod of your head, bangs falling over his eyes as he does. ”and i love them, too.” his smile grows. ”they’re my best friends.”
absently, you reach a hand out, brushing away the strands of hair obscuring his vision. and suguru stirs, his gaze shifting until it falls on you. like a moth to a flame. there’s something indescribable in his eyes, soft and heavy and tender and true.
”— and i have you.”
a stutter of your heartbeat, a jolt throughout your chest. his stare almost burns, but you can’t avert your gaze — suguru looks positively lovesick. admiring you with a dreamy gaze, as if he can’t believe you’re real. 
he reaches a hand out; cradling your face with one big palm, the rough pads of his fingers smoothing down your skin so very gently. smearing his fondness from your jaw to your cheekbone, so loving your breath hitches in the back of your throat. 
a soft, content sigh spills into the air, like a prayer that doesn’t need any words. his smile is serene.
”my angel.” 
as the words fall, that peaceful smile of his changes shape, shifting into a big, giddy grin. it lights up his whole face. a chuckle leaves his lips, content and delighted. ”i’m the luckiest guy in the world.”
and for a moment, you fear that your heart will stop beating entirely. frozen, listening to the lullaby of your heartbeat resounding in your ears. 
suguru has always been frighteningly good at flustering you — but isn’t this a little unfair? you clear your throat, hoping to regain some composure. it’s tough, though. your words could never measure up to his, could never flow as freely, but they’re honest. wholly and thoroughly. and maybe that’s enough. 
”we’re the luckiest in the world, too, then,” you echo, smiling, words barely above a whisper. willing yourself to meet his gaze. ”since we have you.”
suguru looks into your eyes. there’s starlight inside them, he thinks, shining brightly, gleaming in the dark. with the hazy filter of intoxication clouding his mind, it’s all he can think. you’re his northern star, his lighthouse. his one and only saving grace.
(you’re so, so pretty.)
a pause. after a silent moment, spent etching your features into his retinas, suguru tilts his head. his expression is unreadable.
— he boops your nose.
you blink. once, twice, caught entirely off guard; and suguru giggles. soft, giddy little breaths falling from his lips like marbles, strewn over the sand of a warm beach. his eyes are crinkled at the edges, and his smile is sweet, meeting your surprised gaze with a honeyed coo. ”you’re so cute, baby.”
silence. you look up at him. 
then you sigh, exasperated, more flustered than you’d like to admit. god. okay, he’s really out of it. for some reason, you still thought you could get a good one-liner in, but of course he had to ruin that by being a little tease.
you grab onto his bicep. gaze fixed straight ahead, giving it a tug. your steps are more decisive now, and suguru follows you happily. ”alright, alright. c’mon,” you beckon, slightly gruff. ”we’re almost there.”
when you finally reach the familiar front door of your apartment, you exhale a deep sigh, laced with pure relief. limbs tired from dragging suguru up the stairs, mind muddled and sleepy and senses practically engulfed by a man still clinging to you like his life depends on it.
after fumbling with your keys and hearing the click of the lock, you take a victorious step over the threshold, and a familiar scent greets you. soothing, comforting, a blend between fresh laundry and leftover curry and blooming hydrangeas. filling your senses with a fervent kind of bliss. of course, suguru’s does the same; intimately intertwined with the scent of home. that everlasting, never-changing blend. 
with him clinging to you like this, it’s almost suffocating — but you truly don’t mind. suguru’s warm, and sweet, and being close to him like this makes you feel at peace. his hands rest on your hips, his jaw on your shoulder, and he adamantly refuses to let go of you for even a second. it’d be annoying if he wasn’t so cute, if he wasn’t suguru geto, if you weren’t so horrendously weak for him.
what you don’t know is that suguru has an agenda. one that isn’t just i want to hug the love of my life, although partially that as well. suguru has a plan, one he’s been absentmindedly dreaming of for the past five minutes; he’s a man on a mission.
but he’s patient. always has been, always for you. so he waits, and waits, for you to hang his jacket up, for you to kick your shoes off your feet. and when you’re finally, finally finished, suguru leans in to kiss you.
— you block his mouth with the palm of your hand.
a moment passes. silent, almost tense. in his stupor, suguru’s mind can’t quite seem to comprehend the situation before him; he doesn’t understand why he isn’t pressing a kiss to your lips, right now, why he’s kissing the skin of your palm. he doesn’t understand why you look so troubled, a faint guilt simmering in your eyes. he just doesn’t understand.
all he can do is blink, dumbly, surprised. a question written on his features clear as day. 
”well, it’s just…” you sputter, sheepishly. avoiding his gaze, a little guilty. ”you know. since you’ve been drinking, and all…”
and it hurts, you think. it hurts a lot more than it should. it hurts to reject him, hurts to see the way he deflates at your clarification. like a big kicked puppy. like you just threatened to throw him out into the street.
suguru removes your hand, gently, holding it in his own as he speaks. those amber eyes are downcast, and a soft pout rests on his lips. the sight alone feels like a dagger to your chest.
”but…” he frowns, voice awfully meek. he looks so sad. ”i wanna kiss you…”
a soft sigh leaves your lips, before you can think to hold it in. oh, he’s being so unfair. guilt clings to your mind, an itch you yearn to scratch, and all you want is to kiss his pout away. but you really, really don’t want to kiss his alcohol-soaked lips.
so you settle for the second best option.
”’m sorry, sugu,” you coo, reaching a hand out to cradle his cheek. he leans into your touch, still pouting, and you tug a little at his bottom lip. wasting no time in closing the narrow distance between you.
the kisses you press against his skin are soft. peppering kisses all across his face; ghosting your lips along his jaw, trailing towards his cheekbones, and settling on his forehead. tiny little pecks, wherever you can reach. your voice is soft, muffled into his skin between butterfly kisses. ”tomorrow, okay?” 
and suguru seems to brighten up a little, melting under the contact, exhaling in pure bliss. he fervently returns the treatment, planting open mouthed kisses all over your face, respecting your wishes and avoiding your lips. they’re a little sloppy, but you don’t mind.
it does make you a little flustered, though. with his palms cradling your face, engulfing you, there’s nothing you can do except drown in his affection, the love he showers you with. it tickles — and suguru’s smile only grows, at the sound of your soft giggles. his cheeks are starting to hurt.
the state he’s in is just a little bit hazy. despite his initial dejection, he no longer minds that he can’t feel your lips against his, disappointment warded off by your smile and laughter alone. he thinks you’re so, so cute, and all he wants is to kiss you forever. 
but you have other plans.
and before you know it, you’re both curled up in bed, limbs all tangled up beneath the blankets, bodies pressed together as suguru cages you in. he squeezes you tightly, hugging you close, practically melting into you. usually, it’d be so easy to fall asleep like this. with suguru cradling you, covering your body with his own, warm and safe. he’s like a furnace. 
but right now, it’s a little tough. you’re kept awake by open mouthed, ticklish kisses pressed against your skin, supplied by the love of your life. it’s sweet, but he’s being far too distracting — as soon as your consciousness begins to fade into the fuzzy realm of sleep, he leaves a sloppy kiss against your collarbone, and you’re jolted awake once more. 
”suguuu,” you whine, dragging his name out with childish inclination. ”we need to sleep…”  
”sorry,” he only murmurs, muffled into your skin. he doesn’t stop, though, planting a wet smooch on your cheek, and then another. you squirm a little in his hold, and he emits a shaky breath. ”jus’ love you so much…”
suguru knows that he needs to stop. he knows that both of you need to sleep, that you need to rest up. that he needs to recover from the intoxicated state he’s fully aware that he’s in — but he just can’t seem to follow through with it. every cell in his body burns with a certain desire, a need to shower you in love, and it’s unendurable. with every kiss, every giggle he manages to pull from your lips, suguru’s heart fills up just a little more. 
your presence surrounds him, like a weighted blanket, and he clings to it with a desperation he never knew before you. 
in the midst of his feverish consciousness, you’re all his muddled mind can think about. the way you fit together with him like a puzzle piece, like he was formed in the shape of someone meant to hold you. like you were formed in the shape of his embrace. with you pressed up against him, limbs tangled with his, everything feels so right.
but it’s so overwhelming. 
you’re so, so close, so close he’s practically engulfed by your scent, your touch, everything that makes his heart burn with devotion. it’s beating so viscerally in his ribcage, stirring the protective instinct inside him; he just wants you to stay close, by his side, wants to keep you safe and happy. wants to make you feel loved. 
suguru’s heart feels wet and raw and bare, fully exposed for you to see. beating just for you.
with the alcohol inside his veins, and the nostalgia of the summer evening on his mind, everything weighs on him just a little too heavily. everything feels just a little too much. every sensation, every emotion, every sappy thought. all of it together is almost too much for him to handle.
all he can think of is you. how lucky he is, to have met you, to have gotten to know you. how much you’ve changed him, changed him for the better, how much of him is directly tied to your existence.
suguru never truly appreciated his name until you came into his life. it was always no more than a simple fact, a gift from his parents that he hadn’t asked for. something natural, that he didn’t question, didn’t think about. 
but you say his name with such warmth.
he wants to hear you say it, over and over again, forever. suguru — in that sweet, lovely voice of yours. better yet, just sugu, a cutesy, silly nickname he could never bring himself to actually hate. he just wants to hear you call out to him, with that warmth of yours, the one that never fails to soothe him. no matter how tired he is, how stressed. how much everything else weighs down on him. 
at the end of the day, he’s simply your sugu. and that’s all he ever really wants to be.
with a hazy filter clouding his senses, coaxing him into closing his eyes, suguru should give in. he should fall asleep, let you fall asleep. but he can’t bring himself to stop thinking about it; he just loves you so wholly. who you are, what you do. as an equal, an individual, a little galaxy tucked into a body made of flesh and blood. no matter what you’re doing, no matter where you are. 
and right now, you’re here, with him. curled up in bed, in your shared apartment, inhaling the same air, exhaling at the same time. by his side, when you could be anywhere else in the world.
his heart is yours. that’s all suguru can bring himself to think, the only coherent thought he can cling to and echo in his head. his heart is yours. forever and ever. 
he makes no attempt to stop the tears from pooling in his eyes, even as he feels them cling to his lashes, even as his breathing clogs up in the back of his throat. they’re proof of his devotion, his carefully nurtured love. growing over the years, into something almost sacred, a kind of faith. something so fervent he wouldn’t dare deny himself of feeling it.
he can’t hold in a faint sniffle, either, just barely audible. one that breaks your heart in two. it aches, aches, aches. suguru is gazing at you with glassy eyes, a sight you aren’t used to seeing — but he also looks so genuinely glad. his tears aren’t ones of sadness. you know, because you know him. 
”aw, honey…” you coo, the pads of your fingers reaching out to cradle his cheek. despite your efforts, your voice wavers when you speak, little more than a whisper. ”don’t cry... you’ll make me cry, too.”
suguru places his larger palm over yours, choking on another sniffle. the sight renders you completely helpless — you want so desperately to stop his tears from falling, but a part of you is too touched to speak. too mesmerized by how beautiful he is, translucent tears illuminated by softly flickering moonrays, lashes glimmering like shooting stars.
all you can do is smooth a thumb right under his eye, wiping away a stray tear with enough tenderness to stitch his heart back together. suguru emits a shaky breath.
”’m sorry,” he sniffles, closing his eyes. nuzzling into the crook of your neck. ”i’m just so happy… love you so much… you mean so, so much to me, i…”
an exhale, a little breathless, tears soaking through the material of the shirt you’re wearing. his shirt. that realization makes him cry even more, a shuddering breath that shatters like glass when it drops from his tongue. 
and then, in a voice so quiet you barely hear it, a soft whisper worth a million words:
”i don’t know what i’d do without you.”
and it hurts. your heart aches so sincerely, thorns curling around your ribcage, because suguru is crying, and he’s telling you all this. with such an honest intonation that you don’t dare doubt him, even for a second. heavy thumps of blood rush through your veins; he’s still clinging to you, sniffling into your neck, and you’re so in love with him that you almost can’t comprehend it.
all you can do is press a kiss to his shoulder, chaste and tender, and hug him just a little tighter. echoing his words, in earnest, desperately trying to keep your voice from breaking apart. ”i love you, too. more than anything.” a sigh, full of wonder. little butterfly kisses scattered across the expanse of his neck. ”you mean the world to me. honestly.”
with a smile against his skin, you hope so tenderly that the soft kisses will comfort him, will stop the tears from falling. 
”my sweet boy,” you murmur, lovingly, because he is. the sweetest boy you’ll ever know. suguru shudders when you press your lips against his jaw. ”i’m so, so lucky.”
with the combined efforts of your kisses, the alcohol slumbering inside his veins, and the tears running down his cheeks, suguru begins to feel awfully tired. sinking into sleep’s embrace, like a sailor lost at sea. comforted by the glimmer of a lighthouse, just out of reach.
everything feels right. he’s safe, and happy, and in love. so hopelessly, blissfully in love.
the exhaustion creeps up on him, tidal waves embracing a shore, beckoning him into closing his weary eyes. a yawn leaves his lips, and he shifts a little in your hold. you’re smoothing down the back of his head, almost protectively, and sleep is only a flicker away for the both of you. with the last of his strength, suguru snuggles just a little further into you, nose pressed up against your neck, close enough that he feels the flutter of your heartbeat. 
”wanna be with you forever,” he murmurs, sleepily, stifling another bout of yawns. his smile is sweet and dreamy. ”gonna marry you one day…”
a moment passes.
for a second, you think your heart does actually cease beating entirely.
swallowing a gulp, you allow yourself the luxury of an inhale — and fresh air fills your lungs. grounding. all you can hear is the rapid beating of your own heart, heavy thumps reverberating in your ears. warmth flows through your entire body.
marry.
the word is spoken so casually, so sincerely, as if he’s said it countless times before. as if he’s repeated it, over and over again in his mind, just to get used to the idea. as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. marriage. something so foreign, so scary, enough to send shivers down every narrow of your skeleton. such a large step to take. 
(but suguru says it with such tenderness.)
”… okay,” you whisper, at last. breathless. ”i’ll be waiting, then.”
there’s nothing else to say. you don’t know if suguru is even conscious enough to hear you, let alone understand the full weight of your words, of his own words. but you don’t mind. 
a soft smile lingers on your lips, as you stroke his hair, mind hazy and limbs heavy. nuzzling your cheek against the side of his head, full of affection. dripping from your hands down to the column on his throat, through his windpipe, down to his heart.
”goodnight, sugu.” you press a kiss to his messy hair, tender and chaste. ”i love you.”
an incoherent mutter leaves his lips, in response, one you can’t quite make out — but you don’t need to. because you already know what it means, in the same way you know that the sky is blue.
(an echo buried deep within his subconscious, voiced without effort, as easy as breathing.
i love you, too.)
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the sizzling of a pan and the whirring of a coffee machine form a beautiful morning symphony, bouncing off the walls of your kitchen. to your ears, and your still sleepy brain, it’s a soothing sound — coaxing soft little melodic hums from the depths of your throat.
with such a tantalizing aroma in the air, a blend between espresso and pancake batter, you can’t help but buzz with a mellow, groggy kind of joy.
honestly, you're beginning to understand suguru’s fondness for the morning hours. waking up to his soft snores and content expression was more than enough to give you the energy you needed to get out of bed; all sleepy and relaxed and pretty, with hazy morning sunrays kissing up his bare skin, caressing his messy bedhead. 
a rare sight, awfully precious. a part of you wanted to stay in bed and admire him all morning, but the thought of taking care of him coaxed you into leaving. it’s the least you could do, really — after seeing him so sincere, so open and vulnerable. 
hopefully, his headache won’t be too brutal when he wakes up. you left some hangover pills on the nightstand, courtesy of shoko’s advice: just get him ibuprofen and coffee. works like a charm. are you a little worried about her nonchalance? maybe. but you trust her judgement. they’re a handful, but you love them — even when they’re drunk or hungover. 
which is why you’re standing in the kitchen, engulfed by the morning sunlight, in front of a sizzling pan. trying your very best not to burn the pancakes you’re making, patiently waiting for the coffee to be done. 
in your blissful stupor, caught up with thoughts of suguru and breakfast and forevers, you don’t notice another presence coming up behind you.
two arms wrap around your waist, and a jaw attaches itself to the curve of your shoulder. you startle, a little, jolting at the contact — but then you recognize that telltale scent, the familiar weight of his arms, and immediately melt into the embrace.
suguru breathes out a raspy chuckle, amused at your surprise. 
a sigh slips from your lips, content. ”good morning,” you hum, placing the palm of your hand on his forearm. suguru shifts a little, getting more comfortable as he leans against you. tenderly, not too much weight. he’s delicate like that.
”g’morning,” he rasps, leftover sleep clinging to the syllables. the usual smoothness of his voice is coupled with a deep, rough kind of tilt, one that always accompanies it in the morning. your heartbeat picks up, silently.
suguru smiles. dreamy, giddy, because you just looked so pretty, in the morning light, hair still a tad messy. humming happily, swaying slightly side to side. so irresistible. he’s beginning to understand why you love sleeping in so much; getting to wrap his arms around you like this, instead of the other way around, doesn’t feel bad at all.
he squeezes you just a little tighter, hoping it’ll convey his gratitude. there are holes in his memory, last night no more than a blurry sequence of still images, but some bits and pieces remain intact. he remembers getting drunk in a way he hasn’t since he made that bet with satoru back in high school — and he remembers that you were there to take care of him.
a smile tugs at his lips. a little giddy, butterflies erupting in his chest. he’s so damn lucky.
”thanks for taking care of me yesterday, sweetheart.”
a hum. you smile, sheepishly, patting his arm. ”don’t need to thank me for that. how do you feel?”
suguru smiles. you feel it, against your skin, a chaste kiss on your neck. ”better.”
the low purring of the coffee machine has stopped, but the sizzling of the pan remains. from beyond the opened windows, you can hear the chirping of cicadas, melodic and serene. singing a summery tune. both of you soak in the preciousness of the moment, the fragile silence, before suguru breaks it.
”everything from last night is kinda fuzzy,” he admits, clearing his throat. just a tad sheepish. you simply hum, a low noise of acknowledgement, and he continues. ”i don’t really remember anything… ’m sorry, baby. i hope i didn’t make you uncomfortable.”
your lips curl up into a tiny smile. such a sweetheart — always worrying about you. always so caring and attentive. eager to reassure him, you smooth over the skin of his arm with your thumb. ”not at all.”
then you’re taking a couple steps back, moving from the stove, and suguru follows. you turn yourself around to meet his gaze, his arms still attached to your waist, a comforting weight.
a grin blooms on your lips, a little teasing, and a flicker of mischief shines in your eyes. ”you were cute, you know.”
suguru blinks, before emitting a low chuckle. a raspy little thing. ”was i?” he drawls, as you brush his bangs away from his face. 
”mhm,” you chirp, eyes crinkled as they meet his own. you just can’t help but want to tease him, a little bit. just a smidge. ”kept going on and on about how much you love us.”
hands moving to cup his face, you squeeze his cheeks softly. and suguru lets you, too tired to resist, only giving you a lazy raise of his brow. there’s a sense of amusement in his eyes, and something in you knows he likes the attention. your teasing words buzz with endearment, akin to a purr. ”my sweet lil’ sugu.”
all he does is lean into your touch, allowing himself to melt into the tenderness of the physical contact. even as you pull at his cheek, earning you a very gentle pinch to your side. but he lets you have your fun. you’re warm, and sweet, and he’s so in love with you he’d probably let you tug his body around however you please.
still, your words leave him just slightly perplexed. he’s still smiling with half-lidded eyes when he asks you to elaborate, basking in the feeling of your thumb smoothing over his cheekbone. ”us?”
your grin widens, by a tad, something deeply amused glimmering in the depths of your iris. ”yep,” you answer, popping the p. for some reason, suguru dreads the teasing edge to your voice. ”me, and shoko, and satoru.”
a moment passes. he stiffens, for a second or two, mind processing the words. then he groans, softly, squeezing his eyes shut.
it makes you laugh, soft and amused, and he can’t help but smile along. despite the dreadful realization you present him with. no wonder he was met with so many notifications when he tapped at the screen of his phone — he didn’t read through any of them, but now he’s apprehensive to do so at all. shoko and satoru can be so goddamn obnoxious when they feel as if they have blackmail on him.
he can see it now, in his mind’s eye; shoko nagging him to run her errands, satoru reminding him of his words every time they have a slight disagreement. 
(grab me a coffee. three shots of espresso, one cube of sugar. got it?)
slacker.
(we both know i’m right. don’t be so stubborn, suguru! it’s okay to be wrong sometimes.)
asshole.
(c’mon. you said you loved me, right?
so mean. and here i thought you loved me!)
idiots.
(he does love them. more than anything. even when they’re being absolutely insufferable.)
suguru just sighs, deep and fatigued, already anticipating his doom. ”they’re never gonna let me live it down, are they?”
a giggle slips from your lips, and his heart flutters helplessly. ”probably not. my condolences.”
another sigh. it only makes your smile widen. there’s something awfully delighted, in your eyes, as you cradle his face in your hands. ”well, i thought you were very sweet!”
”yeah, yeah…” he mutters, vaguely amused. placing one of his large palms over your hand, where it rests on his cheek. ”i won’t be doing that again anytime soon.”
a chuckles bubbles up from within your throat. ”aww,” you pout, giving way to a teasing grin. ”that’s a shame. i wanted to hear you talk about how much you love me again.”
suguru blinks. 
then he smiles. a very particular smile, characteristic, one you’ve come to associate solely with him. resting somewhere in the intersection between a soft grin and a teasing smirk. a flicker of mischief shines in his eyes, and you realize your mistake.
you can tease suguru all you want; but he'll always turn the tables on you, at the end of the day.
”oh?” he chuckles, fondly, thumb smoothing over the lines of your hand. his eyes gleam, looking straight into yours, shining with something mildly devilish. ”i don’t need to get drunk to tell you that, baby.”
in a smooth motion, one you can’t help but silently envy, suguru intertwines his fingers with yours and brings your hand to his lips. he never once breaks eye contact, gaze heavy as he basks in your flustered expression, planting a soft kiss against your knuckle. reverent.
”i love you. more than anything,” he purrs, lips still lingering on your skin. warm enough to burn. ”you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”
a pause. heat crawls up your spine, and a flush rises to your cheeks. you couldn’t stop it if you tried.
”my everything,” he continues, intent on flustering you as much as humanly possible. voice low and smooth, honeyed and deep, and worst of all; terribly earnest. lips trailing over your knuckles, against every knot, so soft that you barely feel it. ”my entire world.”
”okay, okay!” you sputter, an embarrassed hue to your cheeks, your gaze landing on the windowpane to your right. his stare is just too heavy, too deeply in love. overwhelming. ”point taken. nevermind.”
suguru laughs, genuine and full. warm and amused, deep and real, and you catch yourself thinking that you don’t want to go a single day without hearing it. even if it’s at your own expense.
a coo rests on his the tip of his tongue, but he bites it back, opting to lean forward instead. he trails the pads of his fingers along your jaw, touch like a butterfly, lifting your chin up ever so slightly. then he closes the distance between you. 
in your throat, your breath hitches.
— but he doesn’t kiss you. suguru stops right in front of your lips, so close you can feel his breath on your skin, taking a moment to simply look into your eyes. and despite how flustered the close proximity makes you, you can’t bring yourself to look away. heart fluttering madly, a string of staccatos against your parted ribs.
a tilt of his head. amber eyes gleaming, crinkled and fond. ”can i kiss you, now?” he asks, grinning softly. hand smoothing down your hip, big and warm, teasing. ”i made sure to brush away all the alcohol. or do you still not want to?”
you pause. 
”hey, what happened to not remembering anything?” you pout, narrowing your eyes. the corner of suguru’s bottom lip twitches upwards.
but he only shrugs, feigning nonchalance, a playful glint in his eyes. ”guess i was just that disappointed.”
a giggle flows from your lips. he drinks it in, gazing at you with pure contentment.
”alright, alright... c’mere,” you coo, smile honeyed and sweet. tracing your fingertips along his jaw, brushing a silky strand of hair behind his ear. you take in the sight of him, meeting his lovesick gaze. he squeezes at your hips softly, a little impatient — so you finally lean in.
suguru’s lips are warm, when they meet yours. they taste like sunlight, devoid of any alcoholic flavour, just like he so kindly assured you of. and it’s a little amusing, the thought of him in front of the bathroom sink — desperately scrubbing his teeth, just to get his kissing privileges back. such a dork. 
he’s your dork, though.
suguru sighs into the kiss, smiling giddily, satisfied at last. a sound you can’t help but mirror. he deepens it, ever so slightly, fingers squeezing gently at the plush of your waist. a hum of approval buzzes in your throat, and his smile only grows.
when he pulls away, that smile is all you can see, along with the ever so slight flush to his cheeks. a hint of peach dusting his skin, framed by the sunrays caressing his jaw, highlighting his handsome features. breathtaking. 
before you have a chance to protest, he’s leaning in again, to press one more chaste kiss to your lips. your heartbeat picks up.
everything finally feels just right.
the warmth of the sizzling pan, the fragrance of freshly made coffee and now-burnt pancakes. the light of the morning sun, scattered across the open space of your apartment, splotches of life painting everything in a heavenly glow. the love in the air, all soft and light and comfortable.
domestic bliss. with suguru, who never seems to change, no matter how many years go by. if you could live in this moment for the rest of your life, forever and ever, you’re sure you’d die happy.
and wow, is that a heavy word. forever. 
(but suguru makes it feel so very, very light.)
forever feels a lot more real, like this. cradled in the midst of a drowsy morning, bumping elbows with the man you love most, after getting to take care of him in his most vulnerable state. accepting every part of him, and having him accept you just as fervently. 
just this moment alone is worth far more than you could ever comprehend. 
suguru, with his warm hands, his familiar embrace. your shared laughter, bouncing off the walls of the kitchen as you try in vain to save your scorched pancakes. and his smile, his fervent devotion, coaxing him into eating them even though they’re burnt at the edges and don’t taste even a quarter as good as his. because you made them, for him, and that makes them taste sweeter than anything.
you stare at him, from across the table, admiring the sight you’ve grown so used to; suguru, with his slightly tousled hair, mug in hand and smile painted on his handsome face. drowned in sunlight, pink petals flitting in through the opened window. you don’t want a single day to ever pass without you seeing this. what does that mean, exactly? you think you know. 
it means forever.
(forever, forever, forever. what a pretty word.)
marriage. you think of it, again, let it linger in the depths of your skull, bounce around until you grow just a little more used to it. and it’s a scary thought, for sure. a terrifying thought, even, something so foreign that it makes you nervous. but you truly wouldn’t mind doing this forever — not one bit. not if it’s with him.
and, unbeknownst to you, maybe that promise of forever isn’t all that far off.
maybe it’s only a couple rooms away, hidden within the depths of a certain drawer, until suguru finally gets the courage to bring it out. and maybe, just maybe — that day isn’t all that far off, either.
(suguru smiles at you, from across the table. he thinks you look ethereal, sipping from your morning coffee, blinking tiredly. so sweet and angelic.
all he can think of is forever.)
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httpsghostie · 7 months
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Can I Call You Tonight?
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got this silly idea from a reel, so I'm in silly neighbor ghost mood
summary: you watered simon's dying plants.
wc: 1,2k
warnings: pure fluff, ghost x f!reader
Simon was always working, either buried in paperwork or fighting for his dear life. He couldn’t complain, though, it was the life he chose to have. He’d rented this apartment because it was near his work and as he said, he could always go walking. It didn’t cost much to live in that area, and he believed he didn’t need more than that apartment could offer.
The relatively low cost was exactly the reason you chose this building, it could use some renovation but you were happy to be starting a new cycle of your life. Finally moving out, finally living alone, it was all you could’ve asked for.
Living there was great, you loved it. It was so chill it was almost boring, so when you found this silly thing to do, it became your favorite activity.
Looking diagonally down from your balcony, a neighbor of yours had a few sad-looking plants that could really use some water. That being said, you could give a little hand for them to come back to life. You grabbed your squeeze water bottle and poured down some water on the plants, trying not to wet his entire balcony as you did so.
It became your silly little thing, watering that person’s plant like you were taking care of a child, but watching as it slowly came to life again was priceless. 
And Simon, well, he did notice something was different. As he smoked his cigarette, late at night on the balcony after arriving from his three week duty, he noticed the plant coming back to life again.
“Well, this is odd.”  He said, grabbing his phone from the pocket and taking a picture of it.
“Why did you send me a photo of your plant?” Johnny called as soon as he saw the picture.
“It was dead when I left.” He said.
“Ok?”
“I didn’t water it while I was gone.”
“Ok… so, someone watered it for you?” Johnny chuckled.
“Negative. No one has my keys.” Simon said in a low tone.
“Maybe it revived on its own.” If Johnny could see him right now, he’d laugh at his deadpan.
“I don’t- why did I even text you. Someone could’ve broken in.” 
“And what? Water your plants everyday and leave your stuff behind? Seems unusual.”
“Yeah, whatever.”
“Go rest, Lt, you deserve it.”
Simon stood there for a while, contemplating the events and then deciding he was overreacting. It wasn’t until he woke up in the morning, having slept on his couch, and heard the noise of water running. He jumped on his feet to check if he didn’t leave the sink open, but as he came back to his living room, he was able to see a small stream of water from his balcony.
“Ay, ay.” He opened the door, looking at where the water was coming; your apartment. Your cheeks immediately flushed as you noticed you’d spilled water in not only his plants, but him. You’d been on the phone, leaning on the balcony and holding the water bottle as you scrolled on your social media, and him yelling made you lose balance and drop your phone, and the chain of events unfolded way too fast.
You quickly let go of the water bottle and ran downstairs, only to meet him in his wet shirt, looking at your fucked up phone on the concrete. “I’ll get you a new one, I’m sorry.” He mumbled, turning to face you. “Simon.” He gave you his hand.
“Y/n.” You said with a pout, shaking his hand. You crouched, grabbing your now obviously dead phone and analyzing it. “I’m sorry for… well, for this.” You pointed at the wet patch on his shirt and he smiled.
“It’s nothing, it’ll dry off.” He said, watching as you almost finger punched your clearly not working phone. “Have you tried turning it off and turning it back on?” He chuckled, following you back to the building. 
“Fuck off.” You rolled your eyes at him, but ended up laughing along. “Have you tried putting your shirt on rice?”
“Good one.” He smiled. He was so… handsome. Where was he the whole time you’ve been living there? You two got in the elevator, and he pressed the buttons of his and yours floors. “So it’s you who’s been watering my plants.”
“They were dehydrated. You’re a bad parent.” You said.
“I was at work.” He quickly said, and you mumbled a small ‘oh’. “Anyway, thank you. I was going to throw them out. They look good.”
“No, it’s fine.” You smiled.
“So, give me your number so I can let you know when I get your new phone.” He said as the elevator came to a stop. “Oh, you don’t have one.” He laughed as he watched your expressionless face. “Wanna come to my place to talk about it?”
He held the door open, waiting for your reaction, and immediately smiled as you walked out of the elevator with him. He opened his door for you, letting you step inside, then got in and closed it behind him.
“Make yourself at home.” He said as he passed in front of you, taking his shirt off. Oh, bloody hell.
Oh, fuckfuckfuck. Shit. He was so fine. No, fine was an understatement. His body was definitely sculpted by gods, definitely. He was absolutely breathtaking, he was ripped and toned in all the right places, and the scars on his torso only enhanced his attractiveness. He was the living embodiment of attractiveness.
You blinked desperately, trying to look away.
“Wow, this… this is not-” you choked out.
“What’s wrong with ‘ya?” He asked, coming back with a new shirt in hands and a really, really wide grin. Something about him playing innocent was flipping something inside of you. He made sure to stay right in front of you as he put a dry shirt on.
You looked away in embarrassment, you must’ve been overthinking.
“Want some tea?” He asked, snapping you back to reality. You nodded, and he went to the kitchen. 
You sat on his couch, looking around his apartment, finding a few pictures of people in the army. “You don’t spend a lot of time here, do you?” You asked as he came back with two mugs in his hand.
“What makes you think that?” He handed you a mug.
You pointed at the dusty frame and he walked to your side, picking it up. “Where’s you?” 
“Who do you think it’s me?” He chuckled. There was a man in a skull mask, holding a dog to his shoulder, and your little frown was adorable to his eyes. He pointed towards him, and you made an unsurprised ‘ah’.
“I knew it, the tattoos gave it away.” You smiled, watching as he put the frame down again.
“Yes, they did.” He mumbled, chuckling his way to the couch, where he gestured for you to sit.
“I have to say, you look better without the mask, by the way.” 
“Thanks. It’s uncomfortable to wear it.”
“I believe…”
The next minutes passed with an awkward silence until he finally spoke again.
“So, I don’t know a lot about phones. I suggest we go out together to get you a new one.”
That smooth bastard.
“Like a date.” You said.
“Like me taking you out to get a new phone.”
“A date.” You laughed.
He sighed, rubbing his temple.
“Yes, a date.”
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jobean12-blog · 2 months
Text
Promise Me
Pairing: Joel Miller x female reader
Word Count: 1,080
Summary: Joel is not happy when he finds out you left to go search for something and didn't tell him...
Author's Note: Just a little angry (but soft always) Joel because he's overly protective and needs you to be ok. Thank you so much for reading! Much love always! ❤️❤️❤️Divider by the sweet @firefly-graphics thank you Daisy! 🥰
Warnings: some angsty bits here and there but only bc Joel is protective and you're his, softness, spicyness and some fluff
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Pedro Pascal Character Masterlist
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Joel shoots to his feet with a string of grumbled expletives, intending to go out and start his second search of the day when he hears the sound of soft footfalls on the stairs.
His heart starts to beat wildly as he waits to see who’s at the door. It opens to reveal you, looking as beautiful as ever, and with that his anger reaches its boiling point.
“Where the hell have you been?”
Your entire body startles with a strangled scream and you drop something to the floor. You back up against the wall and search for some light, finally noticing him seconds later.
“Oh my god Joel! Are you crazy?”
Some of his anger deflates at your panicked tone, but not all.
“I’m not the crazy one! Crazy would be leaving for half the damn day and not tellin’ me where you’re off to!”
With a scoff you reach down to pick up what fell from your hands. “I didn’t know I had to report all my comings and goings to you!”
His chest heaves with his labored breathing and he steps closer.
“You still didn’t answer my question,” he warns.
You stay silent as you stuff the contents of your hand into your jacket pocket, trying to skirt past him and into the small space you call home.
He’s had enough, stopping your progress with a firm hand on your waist.
He spins you around until you’re caged against the counter, his arms resting on either side of you, and leans in close.
“Where. The. Hell. Have. You. Been? I’m not goin’ to ask again darlin’.”
You get right in his face.
“I went looking for something ok! And I found it. And I’m fine.”
His eyes sweep over you, assessing you so closely you feel stripped bare.
He doesn’t move away but heaves a yielding sigh of your name.
Your expression softens with a frown and when his head drops toward his chest you tentatively reach for his jaw, pressing your fingers to the patchy scruff to lift his eyes to yours again.
“Joel?”
“I...,” he starts quietly. “I thought somethin’ happened to you!,” he says, much louder now.
His agonized eyes meet yours and after a moment’s hesitation, he speaks again.
“Believe it or not, I care about you. More than you know. The last few hours have been pure hell, darlin.’ You think it’s funny to scare the shit out of me?”
“No,” you answer quietly. “I don’t think it’s funny and I didn’t mean to scare you.”
“Then why were you gone all day angel?” he demands.
“Well…I,” you begin hesitantly, then blow out a breath. “I wanted to find some crayons! I found a coloring book the other day but I have no crayons! It took longer than I expected. I thought I would be back before you even missed me.”
When he just stares at you blankly you continue talking, your voice barely above a whisper when you ask, “do you want to color with me?”
He remains quiet and you add, “I’m sorry.”
He nods and slides his hand into your pocket, carefully pulling out the worn box of crayons.
“All that for some crayons?” he muses softly.
“I love to color,” you say with a small shrug. “Don’t be mad.”
Resolute in his anger he doesn’t reply but keeps you caged in, his eyes dropping to your lips.
With tentative movements you brush the fallen hair from his forehead and trace the line of his jaw before pressing a kiss just under his ear.
“I promise I won’t do it again.”
Another kiss, this time lingering on his neck.
He can feel his defenses slipping and against his better judgement he leans into your touch, the feel of you threatening to completely topple his anger.
Your hands start to trail down his chest toward his stomach but he grasps them, dragging you into his embrace.
“Say it again,” he growls. “Promise me you’ll never leave me like that. Never again.”
“I promise Joel.”
He brings your hand to his mouth, kissing the inside of your wrist then letting the other hand slide down your back, satisfied when your breath hitches in your throat.
“Good,” he murmurs, pressing you against his body, lining you up with every inch of him.
A roll of his hips lets you feel his need and your eyes close, parting on a moan.
“Are you still mad?” you ask. “We could color? It might help you relax.”
His head dips slowly, his warm breath fanning your lips before he closes the distance and cuts off your surprised gasp with his mouth. He grabs the back of your neck and commands the kiss, only deepening it when you bite his bottom lip.
His possessive growl is followed by a question spoken directly against your parted, swollen lips.
“Do you see what you do to me?”
His breath shudders in and out, sounding loud in the quietness surrounding you. He works open the button of your jeans, then slips his big hand down the inside of your panties.
“Next time you need somethin’ you come to me,” he says. “I’ll give you everything you need.”
Your head rolls back and your eyelashes flutter against your cheek, your breathy affirmation driving his fingers right where you want them.
He leans down and brushes his lips to the shell of your ear.
“I protect what’s mine.”
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The next morning, by the soft glow of the rising sun, you sit on the makeshift bed, your back to Joel’s chest and your knees pulled up with the coloring book resting on them.
“I forgot how small these things are.”
You study his hand. Long, thick fingers dwarfing the green crayon held between them.
“Nah. Your hands are just really big,” you purr. “And I lo…”
“Yeah, yeah. I know angel. You love ‘em.”
“I love, love, love them!” you exclaim, feeling his light chuckle.
You snuggle closer to his warmth and rest your head back along his chest.
“You have to stay inside the lines,” you playfully chide.
“Well, it’s not that easy from this position!” he shoots back.
“I can move over here…”
He tightens his grip, not allowing you to move an inch out of his arms.
“Don’t. I need to keep you close.”
“Forever?” you ask with a giggle.
He gently grasps your chin and tilts your head back to meet his eyes, his expression fierce.
“Forever angel.”
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@hiddles-rose @lizette50 @kmc1989 @lorilane33 @blackwidownat2814 @littleseasiren
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jyoongim · 1 month
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OK SO I WAS WONDERING IF I COULD REQUEST ALASTOR X READER??? I AM OBSESSED WITH THE IDEA OF ALASTOR CUDDLING UP WITH THE READER (soft spot🥺) BUT HIS SHADOW ALSO JOINS IN (bc it has a mind of it's own and likes the attention that the reader gives it) ILY UR WRITING SO SO MUCHHH IT HAS ME FOAMING AT THE MOUTH \(⁠♡⁠ω⁠♡⁠ ⁠)/
Supeeerrr fluffy and cute!
The radio played in the background as you snuggled against Alastor. It had been a pretty long day and after his radio broadcast, the red demon came to your shared room to relax for the night. 
You were doing a crossword and Alastor was reading a book, it was pure bliss.
It must have grown late as the chiming of the clock rung through the hotel.
You let out a yawn and set your puzzle down and really cozied up to the demon.
”I think we should see Rosie for lunch, I heard she has inquired new flavors of pinkies and I am dying to try them” you said as you began to get comfortable.
Alastor let out a hum, seemingly to agree.
He was too busy soaking up the warmth your soft body provided, happily curling his limbs around yours.
Your fingers danced across his features, tracing his face, twirling his hair and playing with his ears. They flicked about as you tickled the fluff around them.
A soft shriek caught your attention and looking up you see Alastor’s shadow peering down at you.
The shadow had a happy smile on its face, flitting about the wall and finally following your movements on the wall.
You smiled and using your own shadow to curl around it.
Alastor cut his eyes to watch as his shadow practically had heart eyes as your shadow nuzzled his. You watched as they danced around the walls, before your shadow settled back in place and returned to normal.
Alastor’s shadow dawned a sad look, before sliding down the headboard and curling around you. You giggled at the buzzing feeling it gave, feeling the shadow squeeze you as it settled on your side of the bed.
Alastor sucked his teeth at the entity, making the shadow’s face etch into a wide sharp grin as it happily snuggled against you, purring.
You were always in awe at Alastor’s shadow. It rarely left its owner, but it was always willing to be by your side. Your own shadow manifested and the two chirped happily with hearts as they morphed together, cuddling themselves.
”Aww even our shadows adore each other” you said yawning, head leaning against Alastor.
He took a look at the shadows and watched as the two tangled together.
He nuzzled you, sighing as he felt sleep try to overcome him
”It seems so my dear. Seems even the shadows like a good snuggle every now and again”
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gojoroui · 2 months
Text
໒꒱ ‧₊˚ FELINE FIGHT — BLADE
content. fluff, you guys have a pet cat, cat relatively looks like blade — based on a twitter post, gn! reader, jealousy, not proofread!
note. i actually need to catch up on honkai star rail and genshin 😓 probably not how i wanted it to come out , but at least i’m posting 😀
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“blade! what are you doing!?”
your black cat’s limbs dangled from where blade held it by the neck. they were having a staring contest.
this was common to happen.
whenever you told blade you would leave to run some errands for only an hour or two, there was always trouble when you came back. specifically caused by the two trouble makers — your cat and blade.
“i’m not doing anything.”
blade blankly eyed the cat — the cat he despised. the cat that stole his spot — in your arms. every night was him sleeping on the other side of the bed, just to give space to the black cat.
he couldn’t remember how many times he felt the urge to grab the cat and throw it out the window. but unfortunately, you denied that from happening.
“what do you mean you’re not doing anything!?” you stomped your way towards blade, “you’re holding the cat by the neck!”
blade grumbled. “so?”
“don’t do that!” you managed to get the cat before blade moved his arms higher from your reach. “it done nothing to you!”
rolling his eyes, blade made his towards the couch — putting arms around his head.
you scowled as you set the cat on the ground, “are you okay?”
the cat meowed profusely and rubbed it’s head against your leg. you pat its’s head before making your way to the bedroom — leaving the cat a few steps away from blade.
let’s hope nothing happens.
~
you just finished your bath and decided to check on blade and your cat — since your heard some meowing.
“bladie, what are doin-“
crash!
books flew down from their shelves and cat scratches were visible on the couch. hissing and high pitched meowing was heard as your cat was, again — dangling from blade’s hold.
“you little-“
“what happened?” you exclaimed.
blade dropped the cat on the couch — which it landed perfectly. silence filled air as blade avoided eye contact.
you seriously couldn’t get how much trouble the two could get while you were away — just for 10 minutes.
you crossed your arms and raised an eyebrow, “care to explain?”
“it was the cat.” blade said, blankly. “it scratched me, look.”
blade moved his bangs back to show the scratch marks — and oh and behold, there were cat scratches.
you swore your mouth dropped to the ground — you never thought your innocent cat could do such a thing.
“are you ok!?” you exclaimed — making your way to the first-aid kit.
dragging blade to a chair, you carefully dabbed some alcohol to his eye. muttering ‘sorry’’s and ‘my bad’’s whenever he hissed from pain.
you lightly add some ointment before asking, “what happed when i was gone?”
your cat walked up and purred against your thigh — acting innocent and pure.
blade didn’t answer your question and just muttered something that didn’t seem necessary for the situation.
sighing for nth time, you got up and picked up the cat. bringing it to it’s original bed that was at the opposite end of the room.
“you’re gonna be sleeping here tonight, okay? no trouble.”
the cat meowed and pawed your knee. you gave it a couple pats before walking over to blade.
smiling, you dragged blade into the bedroom.
“let’s cuddle now, you need rest for your eyes anyway.”
blade smirked.
oh how he loved karma.
but he’s gonna be the one to buy a new couch.
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ok im listening to a spencer reid playlist and "marry me" by bruno mars came on and all i can imagine is its like a week or so after spencer had proposed, and he comes home to reader dancing/singing to the song while cleaning or baking. i would love to see this as a fic 🥺
Sneak Peek
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Summary: Spencer comes home from a case to find his new fiancée, Reader, in rare form.
Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader
Category: Fluff, kinda sunshine/grump
Content warnings: None
Word count: 1.2k
A/N: Here ya go, babes 🩵
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Finally, Spencer thinks when he sees his front door. For work, hours on the jet to and from Quantico don’t take as much of a toll on him as one would expect. Passing the hours with debriefs, cards, reading, and sleeping is something he’s grown accustomed to for years at the B.A.U.
This week, however, was different. Before this last-minute case in Cheyenne, Spencer popped the question to you (with the team’s help with set-up and delivery). Of course you said yes. He barely had time to fish the ring from his blazer pocket before you burst out with your answer. But you barely got to enjoy the first 24 hours of being engaged before the team was called to Wyoming the next morning.
But now, it’s Saturday, so that means you’re home. He can already hear music on the other side of the door when he twists his key. Quite an upbeat tune, unusual for your typical taste. While he sticks to classical composers, normally you’re drawn to calm acoustic songs with minimal production. But what he hears when he opens the door is pure pop.
He couldn’t help but smile as he stepped into the apartment, as the familiar scent of home hit him with the smell of something in the oven. You never cook. And you never bake. But Spencer knows what fresh cookies smell like. He followed the sources, rounding the wall that divided the entryway from the kitchen. And there was when his heart skipped a beat. You were there, in a dress, dancing and singing along with the lively tune, completely immersed in a housewife experience of your own making.
This is nothing but out of character for you. You and Spencer regularly put work first before anything. It is expected in your fields that you prioritize work over each other at times. So your wardrobe was mostly pantsuits and black pumps. Prentiss often gave you suggestions on where to shop for your go-to outfits. Which is why Spencer was so stunned to find you in a dress, flowing around your calves as you twirled on the tile floor. Your hair swayed with every movement, and the joy in your eyes was infectious. The room seemed to come alive with the energy you were exuding. 
He drank it in, marveling at the happiness radiating from his fiancée. He didn’t think simply clearing his throat would be noticeable. But it was. And suddenly, your batter-doused whisk/makeshift microphone became your weapon of choice. “Spencer!” You exclaimed.
Spencer put his hands up in immediate surrender, his heart momentarily pounding for a different reason. “Woah, it’s okay. It’s just me.”
Your footing in the small space caused you to lose the rhythm of the music as you stumbled. Your socks gave you little friction, but Spencer was quick to save you from mild embarrassment. Granted, his degrees and experience in profiling didn’t exactly prepare him for impromptu dance saves, but he caught you with surprising grace.
“Careful there,” he teased, still holding onto you. “The team will have some choice words with me if they find bruises on you, no matter where they came from.”
You scoffed. “Wow, bruises. So romantic. What a way to greet your future wife.”
Spencer shrugged before lifting you back to your feet, making sure your feet were stable before letting his hands slide from your shoulders. They glided down to your palms as he extended your arms out. “Well, I can certainly say your greeting exceeds mine by miles.” He looks up and down at your dress; a plain green that hugged you at the waist. “I didn’t know you owned any dresses.”
“Hm.” You said. Your hands rolled with his, urging your fingers to link. “I managed to slip something past the genius in this house. Guess you’re not as observant as I thought.”
Spencer’s brows rose as his jaw dropped, instantly ready to roll with this. Sarcasm was something he had to pick up quickly with you, as it’s your default tone. And you have yet to stray after three years. “I’m observant.” The shock translates through his response.
“Clearly not as much as you like to think.” You untangle one of your hands from his and it creeps to cup his cheek, rough with little stubble. “Barely a week of being engaged and you’re already slipping.” You click your tongue as you shake your head.
“I’m very observant. I notice a lot, thank you.” He pulls you close. His now free hand snaking around your waist, just letting your noses brush. He notices how your mouth opens slightly, expecting a kiss as your exhale grazes his upper lip. He was planning to kiss you then and there, and whatever happened next, he was more than happy with.
But you called him out. So now he has to prove you wrong.
“You didn’t sweep up all the flour off the floor.”
Your eyes were half-open, one of the most vulnerable looks he gets to see. But it fizzles as the information clicks in your head. “What?”
“Your socks.” He gestures down to them.
And you look. Black socks were definitely not the wisest choice.
“How many times did you screw up the cookies?” He asked.
“I didn’t screw them up… too much.”
Spencer’s brow quirked.
“Just more flour than the recipe called for. But only because the bag was so difficult to open.”
So, you spilled it. But he kept that part quiet, as you were already turning pink. “How much salt did you use?” He asks instead. Because he’s not above being too gracious.
“Not much.” You bit your lips closed. “Just the standard amount.”
“The standard amount? Did you throw some over your shoulder for luck?” He brushes some grains he spots sticking to your collarbone.
You were still pink, and Spencer could feel the heat rise off your skin. “We… may need to get more sugar from the store.”
“What did you—”
“Not important. The cookies will be ready in three minutes. So, do you want cookies or not?”
“Hm,” He says, eyes glued to your shoulder again. “So if this is sugar…” And he leans down to kiss your shoulder. His mouth is warm against your skin as it scales across the center of your clavicle. His lips brush them before leading up to your neck. 
“This is the greeting I expected.” You say.
“Oh, really?” He follows the pulse point that he’s learned makes your knees equivalent to jelly. When he kisses there, but doesn’t let his teeth scrape the delicate skin just yet. He closes his eyes, to get lost in the moment, in you, a bit faster. The excuse of sugar on your skin has long been exhausted, but you indulged regardless, indisputable by the small sounds that escape you as he kisses more. The arm that holds your waist braces to take on your weight when he nips.
And down you go. But he catches you. Once again
“Does my future wife expect more?”
You say nothing. You swallow dryly, but Spencer understands that as a yes from you. He keeps you both still. Nipping again while his other hand takes free range around your dress. It makes you mewl, and he’s close to hoisting you to bed.
“The cookies—” You remind him. “Can’t let them burn. The timer says—mm—two minutes.”
“I have plenty to keep me occupied for two minutes.”
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Hii
Can I have daemon Targaryen x wife!reader. She’s pregnant and the dragon egg for the child hatched before the birth. The baby dragon stay with her the hole time, sitting on her belly. Otto thinks that it’s wrong and try make the king forbid the reader of walk around with a dragon. During a dinner the baby dragon attack the food on the table and daemon and wife just laughs .
White Knight
Request: Can I have daemon Targaryen x wife!reader. She’s pregnant and the dragon egg for the child hatched before the birth. The baby dragon stay with her the hole time, sitting on her belly. Otto thinks that it’s wrong and try make the king forbid the reader of walk around with a dragon. During a dinner the baby dragon attack the food on the table and daemon and wife just laughs.
Hi! Thank you for the request, this is a cute idea. I’ve never written for the pregnancy trope, so I hope this is ok. I’m still getting the hang of writing for Daemon, he’s a difficult character to write and stay true to the nature of. Writing fluff for him is a little difficult, but I hope you like it. Let me know what you think!
(Warnings: i don’t think there are any, let me know if i missed any)
Daemon had returned with his pick from a clutch of eggs during your last month of pregnancy. Not that anyone else besides you could tell, but he was clearly nervous about the child coming, and went to great lengths to keep you and the child safe. The dragon in him was pure instinct, and he was fiercely protective over you.
He knew you would be alright when Caraxes started guarding you whenever you were around him, sneering at anyone who passed by. It was actually how you found out you were pregnant in the first place, Caraxes knowing before either of you did. Daemon had the instinct to protect you, it was only natural for his dragon to do the same. Especially when you were with child.
What neither of you saw coming, was the egg hatching within a week of being in your child’s cradle. You had placed a blanket in the cradle, preparing the room for the baby, when the egg began to crack. You worriedly called for Daemon, who rushed in, only to find a little tail, peeking out from the shell. 
It was unheard of, at least in the past few decades, and you both were a bit bewildered about what to do with it. After all, it was supposed to be raised with your child, and connect to them, not you.
You knew it would be alright, though, when the dragon crawled out of its shell, scaling the side of the crib to rest on the perch at the top. 
He was completely white, a rare color for a dragon, with hints of red on his underbelly and tips of his wings. His eyes shone a bright green. He was beautiful.
You watched its eyes narrow at you, like it was listening for something, when it finally jumped down to the rail in front of you that was level with your stomach. You had held your breath, nervously watching it, Daemon close at your side. Finally, it leaned in close, let out a small huff, and rested its head on your stomach. 
You nearly melted at the sight, cooing at it, feeling Daemon’s chin rest on your shoulder. He smiled, letting a hand come down to rest on your stomach, when the dragon angrily lifted its head, sneering. 
Daemon laughed, raising his hands in surrender. “That’s right! Already a little guardian, aren’t you?”
“Timpa Azantys,” you replied, running a finger along the cheek of the dragon. 
White Knight.
“Azantys. That’s a good name,” Daemon said, grinning as the dragon traveled up to rest on your shoulder. 
You nodded. “Azantys. I like that.”
Azantys, perched on your shoulder, and locked eyes with Daemon, staring him down. Daemon, never one to relent, narrowed his eyes, his face hard as he stared back.
“Gods,” you rolled your eyes. “He’s minutes old and you’re already sizing each other up.”
Daemon didn’t answer, eyes still locked with the dragon. “Obey.”
After a few seconds, the dragon finally bowed its head, submitting. Daemon gave it a nod, before turning back to you. 
“You only have as much power as you take. A dragon is only dangerous if you let it be. If he’s going to be the protector of my wife and heir, he ought to know that young.”
You raised a brow. “I thought a dragon has no master? Are you telling me a mere man can get a beast like no other to submit to him?”
“I’m not a mere man. Targaryens have dragons blood running through their veins. With our child, as do you. He can sense that, and recognizes his place. That is why he must learn now, just as Caraxes did.”
You nodded, bewildered by the fact that your husband just told a dragon of all creatures to obey, and it actually listened. 
In the following days, you were quite a sight to be seen walking throughout the castle. Daemon wasn’t found at your side near as much as he was before, because now, you had a dragon, always on guard atop your shoulder. He may still be a baby, but he was growing every day, and people were wary around you, even the guards. 
You sat in on sessions at court, like Daemon asked you to. He advised you to pay attention, as your son would be the Lord of his own people one day, and he’d need his mother to guide him. You knew it was just an excuse, but you still obliged Daemon for his own peace of mind. The truth was, he didn’t like you being alone when he had his duties, and preferred you to be around people he trusted. 
Rhaenyra started joining you as well. She was to rule one day, and took the opportunity to learn how to command. She also enjoyed spending time with you, as well as Azantys, who had taken a liking to her. 
You walked into the throne room a half hour before it was supposed to start. As pregnant as you were, it took you a while to get places, and you liked to get comfortable before you had to pay attention. The only people in the throne room was the King, Otto Hightower, and a handful of guards and servants. 
King Viserys smiled fondly at you, nodding as you entered.
“Your Grace,” you curtsied, at least as well as your condition allowed, before taking a seat off to the side. Azantys curled up on your stomach, head facing where the crowds would be so he could keep watch.
Otto gave you a look of disdain, his face set into a scowl. You were amused as you watched him fight himself to say something, before he turned to the King. 
“Your Grace, I don’t think it’s appropriate for the Lady to be here.”
Viserys turned, narrowing his eyes at the Hand. “Whatever for? She’s come every week for months, and is entirely respectful. She’s a positive influence on Rhaenyra as well. You know she is here at my brother’s request, what reason would I have to turn her away?”
You smirked as Otto faked a smile, letting his hands join behind his back. “I meant no offense to the Lady, Your Grace. I have no qualms with her…it’s her dragon. We have the pits for a reason. It is a distraction to the court, and a danger at that.”
“It is only a danger if the Lady is vexed. The court knows well enough to leave her be.”
“But the dragon–”
“She is a Targaryen, now,” the King spoke sternly. “Targaryens have dragons. Neither have done or will do any harm, unless it comes to it, and you’ll be glad to have them against swords if the day does ever come. I will hear no more of this.”
“Your Grace,” Otto nodded, returning to his place beside the throne. He looked in your direction, and you smirked again, running a hand down Azantys’s back. 
The following evening was a feast, the first of many for the week, meant to celebrate welcoming your very soon to come child into the world. Lords and Ladies came from neighboring cities across the Kingdom to congratulate you and Daemon on the start of your family. 
You were sat next to Daemon, a few seats away from the King. Daemon kept one hand in yours, the other rested on the table as he held a conversation with a nearby Lord. Azantys, already almost too big to lay comfortably on your stomach or in your lap, was perched on the top of your chair. 
The servants brought food to the tables, setting places in front of you. You listened to the chattering of all the people, not paying attention to any one conversation in particular. You were zoned out, thinking of other things, when one of the trays was accidentally slid towards you, haphazardly jostling food your way.
Azantys let out a growl, swooping down from his perch to attack the tray in front of you, violently clawing at it to push it away. He opened his jaws, breathing a small flame onto the tray, charring it. 
The guests gasped at the heat and sudden movements, slightly leaning back in their chairs. 
It was quiet for a moment, before Daemon broke the silence with a chuckle. You swiftly followed, holding your stomach as you laughed, wiping under your eyes to clear the tears that had fallen from laughing so hard. 
“Good boy, Azantys,” Daemon smirked, gripping your hand in his. “You protected her from a stain.”
The other Lords and Ladies cautiously laughed, nervous to be in such close proximity with a dragon, albeit a small one, who had just tried to kill a tray for almost spilling on you. They uneasily went back to their conversations, and Daemon let out a low whistle, signaling for Azantys to go back to his perch. 
Azantys obeyed, returning to his guarding spot above you, resuming his watch.
“If he’s like this now, imagine what he’ll be like when the child is actually here. He’s a ferocious little thing,” you joked. 
Daemon squeezed your hand in return, nodding. “I’m counting on it, Darling.”
A/N - Hi! I hope you enjoyed this. To anyone who has sent me a request, I’m sorry it’s taken me so long to get to it, I will eventually, thank you for sending them in. 
5K notes · View notes
carlossainzwho · 6 months
Text
daddy's little girl
the poll's final result was YES I'M IN NEED OF ONE so here ya go!
pairing: dad!oscar x mum!reader
warning: nothing just pure fluff! enojy!!
(can i just say that soraya is such a sweet name?? thx.)
oscar peered at the little cupcake plushie his little daughter soraya was pointing at. covered with rainbow sprinkles and super fluffy, it definetely seemed like the want and need of a little four-year-old. but was it really needed?
'are you sure you need this, love?' oscar asked looking down at his girl.
'yes daddy, it will go with my collection of unicorn and princess plushies!'
'right.' oscar said. 'alright then, better call your mum, then! y/n!!!!'
and up came oscar's wife, soraya's mummy.
'oh come on oscar, any toddler would want that toy for themselves!' y/n retorted, after hearing her husband waffle about why the little toy wasn't really necessary.
'it's also my birthday soon!' soraya giggled
'yeah, right. it's june, and your birthday is in september!'
'please?'
and then the world's most beautiful doe-eyes stared into oscar's soul, stabbing him with guilt of not getting his daughter a toy she really wanted. her messy hair, much resembling her daddy's, rested on the vibrant toy. 'shoot,' oscar thought. 'even the toy is giving me a death stare'.
as if things couldn't get any worse, his wife was staring expectantly at him. and that was the final straw.
'oh, alright then.'
'yayy!' its was the simplest cheer ever. watching his daughter smile made him smile.
and off the three of them went, all smiles.
back at home
'daddy!'
'yes, darling'
'i named the cupcake plushie lando norris!'
'that's avery interesting name, i must say'
'i know, that's why i chose it!' soraya hopped away, with a cute little grin planted on her face.
oscar could only chuckle to himself. he loved his family.
yourusername
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out plushie shopping! prizes won for guessing the name correct! (hint, initials are LN)
tagged: oscarpiastri
liked by landonorris, logansargeant and 283,814 more
landonorris: is the name lando norris? yourusername: correct! ding ding ding! landonorris: woah! can't believe i guessed it right! yourusername: yeah, there was most certainly not the most obvious hint in the world! liked by landonorris
logansargeant: oscar, can you get me a plushie? a unicorn one will do.
oscarpiastri: absolutely not, sargeant. it took a lot of convincing to get the cupcake one in the first place! logansargeant: aww yourusername: it's ok logan, i'll get you one! logansargeant: oh oscar, if only you could be like your wife oscarpiastri: eh i can't be bothered yourusername: that's because you're always sleeping!
user: aww such a cute plushie
user: i want a plushie from oscar too
user: that family is so damn cute!!
mclaren: mclaren's favourite child look so happy!
liked by oscarpiastri and landonorris
user: awww
user: soraya is so lucky!!
heh, you got what you wanted :) thanks for reading, ily! reblogging and liking will help so much!
489 notes · View notes
taintedcigs · 8 months
Note
eddie w tattoo artist reader..... trying SO hard to seem like he's not dying from pain while she tattoos his chest, bc he's trying to impress her. she's the coolest girl he's ever seen and the fact that her art is on him forever makes him so giddy and happy, almost as happy as getting her number
call me if you need a groupie — e.m.
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yes yes yes yes yes. a thousand times yes to this. thank u for this request omg i looooove lovesick cutie eddie soooooo much. this was meant to be a blurb but now its a 2.8k+ fic oops. idk if there were exclusive shirts ok i tried to do my research but this is the best i could get and idk how tattoo processes are so take everything i wrote w a grain of salt !! not proofread as always so ignore any mistakes and also idk why but i looved writing for this dynamic and if anyone would be interested i could write a pt.2 for some smut !! (maybe sub!eddie or switch!eddie? 👀)
pairing: eddie munson x fem!tattoo artist!reader (wc: 2.8k+)
warnings: MINORS DNI w any of my works!!. just pure fluff!! maybe the teeniest tiniest angst, eddie is kinda insecure <3, eddie is a lovesick cutie honey pie !! and swearing? oh also tattooing ofc (needles n stuff)
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He doesn't mean to flinch, he doesn't mean to show you how stressed he is, but you can sense it.
Each time the needle presses against his skin, he hisses, mouth biting onto his lips, harsh enough to draw blood.
But Eddie doesn’t care, you—the hottest and coolest girl—that has ever graced the hellhole that was Hawkins was tattooing him, and Eddie couldn’t afford to look like a coward.
So with everything in him, he shut his lips, biting on them, becoming accustomed to the metallic taste because it didn’t matter, not when you looked so fucking pretty when cooing him and your free hand squeezed his biceps for reassurance.
He didn’t know what to admire first, the way your lips quirked sweetly when you answered his dumb questions, the way you looked so focused with your lip between your teeth, trying to tattoo him, or the fact that you were wearing an Anthrax shirt, and not just any regular Anthrax shirt that you could find at those regular shops, it was an exclusive shirt that was only sold at the concerts, and he had to gulp physically at that.
You were a tattoo artist… and a metal fan? How perfect could you get?
Before his questions were answered, the needle pricked at his skin again, he cursed out, and instead of screaming in his mind, he whimpered out loud this time.
Your head perked up quickly and Eddie was now cursing himself, for being a fucking idiot, for looking like a coward in front of you.
“I can slow down if you want to,” You said with a smile, a sweet smile that adorned your perfectly red lips, they looked so fucking kissable.
“N–no!” He stuttered, but you gave him a huff. “C’mon Eds, you’re doing good… better than anyone I’ve ever tattooed has, we can slow down a bit.” You reassured.
His eyes lit up like a child, Eds? His new acquired nickname rolled off your tongue so sweetly, your words dripped in honey. And Eddie decided he would do anything to hear you call him that again.
Not only did you call him Eds, but you also said he was better than the others, and the childish grin on Eddie’s lips was quick to grow again, his entire body relaxing as he almost melted into you.
“You think so?” He asked, tone giddy and all sweet, causing a pretty giggle to escape your lips.
“I know so!” You hummed. “Tattooed a guy yesterday. He was tall. Like really fucking tall, and he had this long beard and tattoos everywhere!” You exaggerated, watching Eddie’s eyes widen. “He cried like a baby the second that needle prickled his skin!”
“And look at you, taking everything I’m giving you like a champ,” You winked.
If only you knew the affect you had on him, Eddie’s entire face grew red at that, he would, without hesitation take anything you gave him.
He tried, so fucking hard not to think about it, but now his mind was filled with the images of you, sitting on his faze, your pretty cunt glistening as he lapped away at your juices.
He imagined those pretty manicured fingers discarding his hair, ruffling while those pretty little lips were hung open, chanting his name. Your whines and whimpers would fill the room as he begged for you to cum in his mouth. He wouldn’t stop until you smothered him.
Until all he could taste was you.
He shook his head to clear his thoughts, because the blood was quick to rush to his cock, and he didn’t want to have his bulge hardening against his tight pants anymore than he needed to, you were inches away from him and he wanted to seem cool–so fucking badly.
“Really?” He asked, and you nodded swiftly. “So brave for me.” You coo, lips lightly brushing against his cheek, as you plant a little kiss.
And Eddie was sure this was heaven now, he blinked quickly to make sure he wasn't dreaming, the light kiss you left on his cheeks lingered, and he could feel it burn.
His cheeks were purely crimson red now, he couldn't fucking help it. He ached for you, ached to have you close to him, ached to feel your touch, and everything you did was enough to drive him crazy, make him feel out of his fucking mind.
He was putty in your hands and you had no fucking idea.
His mouth stood agape, a dumbfounded look overtaking his features for too fucking long until the soft buzz of the machine brought him back again, the needle quick to puncture the skin's surface again, causing Eddie to squeeze his eyes shut as he tried his best not to fucking scream.
Be cool, be cool, be fucking cool Edward Munson.
He repeated it like a mantra in his head, and he was glad you were focusing on tattooing the cute sketch you made for him, and not his actual face that probably looked straight out of a horror movie.
“So—uh... c—cool shirt,” Eddie muttered, voice so low that he was surprised when you hummed back at him.
“Oh, yeah,” You muttered.
“You listen to Anthrax?” You asked with a beaming smile, gaze still focused on Eddie's arm.
Eddie huffed painfully but realized quickly that the nervousness of talking to you was overpowering the pain of the tattoo gun drilling into his skin.
“Are you kidding? Anthrax, Judas Priest, Black Sabbath... Megadeth! You name it I probably listen to it,” He hummed, and your eyes glimmered, causing Eddie's breath to hitch and his wavering nervousness to appear again. “Metal is my jam, baby!” He exclaimed, not too loud to disturb your tattooing process but loud enough to cause a giggle out of you.
Metal is my jam? Baby? Who the fuck says that?
Eddie was afraid to look into your eyes now, afraid to see the gaze everyone gives him.
Like he's an outsider like he's a freak.
But when he hears that pretty giggle of yours again, comfort takes over him, nervousness dissipating quickly when he sees the gentle look you give him.
Almost as if to let him know that you also love those bands. Almost as if to let him know that he wasn't an outsider because you were just like him.
“Dio?” You asked with a curious gaze, face beaming up when Eddie nodded furiously.
“Fuckin' love Dio,” He muttered, barely realizing the needle on his skin now, all thanks to you.
“Uhh—how did you even get that shirt?” Eddie asked, almost shyly, admiring the way you were neatly tattooing him.
“I wanted to go to that concert so badly but the tickets were sold out so quickly.” He added.
“Oh! I was Belladonna's groupie,” You muttered mindlessly, the pain as you prickled the needle was an afterthought to Eddie now, almost forgetting how to breathe, he coughed, quite loudly, causing you to look up at him and see the bewildered look on his face.
You stopped the machine when you chuckled lightly, "Oh, Eds!"
There it was, that nickname again, god you were dizzying his mind.
“I was just joking,” You smiled at him, and he wanted to melt, right then and there. "Needed to go a little bit deeper so I thought I'd distract you," You shrugged, and Eddie returned the smile.
He liked the feeling of having someone care about him, he liked talking to you, and he sure as hell enjoyed being with someone so similar to him—someone so fucking cool.
“Though I did go to that concert in 1987.” You could feel Eddie’s curious gaze on you
“My friend knew their manager,” You murmured again.
"Really?!? How was it?" He asked, face beaming again.
“So fucking cool.” You gushed as you started talking about their set list, how the first punch you ever threw was at that concert, and you enthusiastically animated Donais' guitar riff, earning a hearty chuckle from Eddie. He loved every bit of your story, listening attentively as your exaggerations enticed him more and more.
The longer you tattooed him, the more comfortable Eddie got, pain was no longer his main concern when all he wanted to do was make you laugh, hear that sweet giggle escaping from your lips, admire the way your eyes crinkle when you smile at him so sugary.
Minutes stretched into hours as you focused on his tattoo, each pass of the needle causing a smile on your face as the sketch you made became more intricate and alluring on his bare skin.
“All done!” You exclaimed with a smile when you finally finished tattooing him, a sigh of relief escaping your lips when the buzz of the machine was finally replaced with silence.
You couldn't help but trace every part of his face now, you wanted to see if he liked it, anxiety bubbling up in your stomach as you couldn't read Eddie's expressions.
“Oh my god,” Was all that left Eddie's lips, and your lips almost started to tremble.
Jesus fucking Christ, how bad did you fuck up?
“Oh my fucking god,” He repeated again, this time his head tilted upward to your direction, almost snapping as you looked at him with scared eyes.
But your gaze eased the second you saw the admiration in Eddie's gaze. “This is a fucking masterpiece!” He beamed, causing a smile on your lips, so fucking big and pretty that he wished he could have that tattooed instead.
“It's fucking perfect,” He muttered again, shaking his head in disbelief when he looked at the tattoo on his forearm.
“I mean when I saw that sketch, I knew you were good to , but holy shit,” He praised again, causing heat to grow in your cheeks, he had no idea how much it meant to you, to have someone appreciating your art, to have people walk around in the sketches you did, indelible on their skin. It felt so fucking good.
“It's...perfect.”
“Really?”
“Of fucking course,” He gushed. “You're so fuckin' talented it's crazy,” He muttered, fingertips gentle as they avoided glazing through the tattoo, but around it.
You were so fucking perfect it was killing him, and he couldn't help the giddy feeling inside of him knowing that your art would be etched into his skin, forever.
You couldn't shake off the thoughts in your head, swirling when Eddie uttered those compliments to you.
Your cheeks grew hot so quickly that you felt the need to turn around, trying to think of something to say to him so that you wouldn't look like a fucking idiot.
Eddie turned around to face you, the smile that brought out his dimples apparent in his face as he watched you scrabble something on a business card.
“Thank you,” You muttered when you turned around, hands almost shaking as you extended your arm to give Eddie the card.
He scrambled it into his back pocket, not caring when you were this close to him, but you frowned at that. “No, thank you, for this masterpiece” He winked, pointing toward his forearm.
He didn't even know where he got the confidence to even be able to wink at you, and his coolness wore off the second he exited the shop, a silent shrieking scream exited his mouth as he freaked out.
Your sketch. On his arm.
You. Tattoo artist. Metal fan.
You, kissing him on the cheek, talking to him for hours, laughing at his idiotic jokes.
You.
Eddie was sure he lost his mind, hands shaking as he reached for the card in his back pocket.
The card was black and the title on it was dripping with blood. He whined.
How much cooler were you going to get?
He gulped when he looked back, seeing you toward the clear glass door, and he knew.
He knew that if he didn't do it now, he could never do it, this was his only fucking chance, and he couldn't be a coward, not now, not when you were this close to him.
Eddie entered back into the shop in a frenzy, causing your head to pop up swiftly as you looked at him dumbfounded.
God, you were so gorgeous he could feel his heart skip a beat.
“C—can I ask you something?” He cleared his throat to not appear nervous, and you nodded, furiously.
“Look, I know this is weird and all... but... uhm, I really feel like we connected,” He muttered, fingers tapping against the glass counter that you were standing behind in.
“And I thought maybe... uhhh... I could like—get your number or somethin'?” He uttered anxiously, tilting his head slightly to the side, and you couldn't help the giggle that escaped your lips.
And even though why you laughed was reasonable, it was the worst fucking thing you could have done to Eddie.
Especially when your laugh seemed so mocking, almost different than the ones you gave him earlier before. Jogging deep into this memory of the countless times when Eddie tried to pluck up the courage to ask girls in his class out, only to be laughed in his face, or to have them insult him.
But this was more than that, it pained him.
It pained him to think that you thought of him like the others did. Like you saw him as an outsider, too.
His bubble of confidence that was already wavering was even quicker to fizzle out, he could feel that familiar lump in his throat, shoulders slumping as his gaze was quick to show his emotions.
He was hurt. And he was sure this hurt much more than a thousand needles breaking the barriers of his skin, “Uhhh,” He gave you a bitter chuckle. “Just.... never mind” He added, defeatedly turning back around to exit the shop once again as he ignored you calling out for him.
“Wait!” You yelled out after him, but Eddie started walking faster.
“Shit shit shit!” You cursed yourself for your little joke.
“Eds, please!” You called out again, this time effective enough to make Eddie stop in his tracks.
Eds. Oh you knew how to get him hooked, how to get him right where you wanted him.
And he hated himself for being this weak for you, someone he met, just recently.
“What?” He answered coldly, glaring at you with bitterness that made you want to hide out, that gentle soul in him disappearing in mere seconds.
And you sighed, hating that he could ever see you as someone that would make fun of him.
“Flip the card,” Your gaze on him was intense, cheeks growing hot again knowing that you were going to see his reaction to your stupid note.
“I don't have time for your bullshit” He spat, almost on his feet to leave.
You sighed. “Eds, just... will you just please flip the card?” You asked, all prettily that Eddie couldn't help but oblige, but be gentle with you again because he couldn't resist it. He couldn't resist you.
He huffed as he plucked the card out of the back pocket of his jeans, turning it over in one swift motion.
'CALL ME IF U NEED A GROUPIE' and your digits were attached right below it.
His gaze softened immediately, head drooping further as he huffed at himself.
He felt stupid, so fucking stupid.
Why did he ever think you would treat him like the others?
His chest expanded with hope when he looked back up at you, a soft smile graced his lips.
“Oh,” He muttered, not able to help the childish grin that was now stuck to his lips.
“Shut up,” You giggled, nudging him slightly.
“You owe me,” You narrowed your eyes sarcastically, causing his brows to quip.
“Oh, yeah? Like what?” He asked, a newfound confidence washing him over when you were so easy to talk to.
“A date,” You beamed, scrunching your nose.
“Okay.” The words left his lips quickly, too quickly that it had you feeling giddy inside.
“How about tomorrow?” He didn't even know how he managed to get those words out without stuttering.
“Uhm—sure.” You were the one stuttering now, cheeks burning up as you could barely look at him. His grin was sickly inviting.
“I'll pick you up at 8?” You nodded so quickly that you were sure your head was about to fall off.
“See you tomorrow,” His voice was sultry as he winked again, making you almost melt, looking cool on the surface when all he wanted to do was go home, freak the fuck out, tell Wayne all about the cool girl who tattooed him, and not be able to sleep until your date tomorrow.
757 notes · View notes
taffycandyqt · 24 days
Note
hey so how badly do you think the rottmnt boys would be easily persuaded into things by their s/o? Who has self control and who throws caution to the wind for their s/o? Like their s/o is not manipulating or anything. Just like “No! I’m not joining”. “*genuine sad understanding doe eyes* If you’re sure, I wanted you to be the one to come with me though since I love you so much and I’d feel better with you there, but if you’re uncomfortable, it’s ok” if their boyfriend changes their mind, s/o is confused at the sudden change but look ecstatic? Or like they make their boyfriend angry and s/o is like “I did that? I’m sorry. I didn’t realise *genuine sad doe eyes. Makes it very hard to stay mad at*”?
Honestly, the rise boys are all so hungry for affection in their own ways. I feel like they are all pretty weak to their sweet little s/o. Also the one shots aren't exactly the best example of the headcannons but I was STRUGGLING so this is the best I got.
Weak in the Knees
Rise turtles (separately) x reader
How easily can you persuade them using your irresistible charm??
Warnings: Mentions of shooting as a hyperbole to emphasize a point. Not explicit. No deaths. Only in Donnies. Angst? ends happy so its fine
Established relationship
Fluff, crack
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Donnie:
We all know Donnie is a sucker for praise.
You ask him to do something stupid or dangerous with you it will be a no.
You want him to step away from his work for a break? absolutely not.
You want him to accompany you to Witch town. ARE YOU CRAZY?
Buuuuuut. If you just so happen to have thrown out a couple compliments his way beforehand.
It will almost immediately be a yes or a "Sigh! I suppose!"
Let's be honest here too, there is a lot to compliment Donnie on.
You praise him for his work, a gift he gave you, helping you, or for literally anything he is already wrapped around your finger.
But if you praise him and then add a little kiss on the cheek or hand. Maybe a small hug?
He would literally let you shoot him if that's what you wanted.
Bro is so in love with you it's not even funny.
Not to say he doesn't draw the line somewhere. No bees. No spiders. And NO BEACH BALLS.
Oh and nothing that could phically harm you in any way.
He ain't about to let you get hurt on his watch.
It doesn't matter how many times you call him the most handsomest genius boy and kiss his nose, you are not diving off the empire state building for him to catch you mid air.
"Donnnnnnnniiieeeeeee!" you slumped towards him as you drew out his name. After you got to him you rested your head on his battle shell. Your hands were positioned on either side of your head laying flat on his shell as well.
"Yes my dear?" He chirped. He wasn't very good at initiating physical touch. Don't get me wrong, he tried, he just let his Donnie overthink get the best of him more often then not. So when you initiated, it was very welcome.
"I looooove youuu." You answered him, "your the sweetest boy I've ever met, did you know that?"
This got Donnie to set his tools down real quick. You always liked to compliment him at random times. At first he thought there was a reason behind it. You wanted something, you wanted to get away with something, you wanted him to forgive you, ect. But no matter how many times he conducted the experiment. No matter the duration of time it took. The results were always purely random. You did it simply because you wanted to tell him how much he meant to you.
And honestly, it was his favorite thing in the world. The only problem was that it would always catch him off guard. There was no consistency to your charming onslaught so it was always left as a surprise till the very last minute. His face burned red as he proceeded to just stare at his work, trying to look like he's trying to figure something out.
"I'm not sure. You say I'm a lot of things," he tried to keep his voice even as he spoke to you.
"Well it's true! Your the sweetest, smartest, and most perfect boyfriend ever and your my absolute favorite."
At this point Donnie was trying to hard not to happy stim. Not because he's not comfortable stimming around you, infact he does it all the time. The thing is, even after all this time he still wanted come off as a cool, emotionally unavailable bad boy. What he conveniently doesn't remember is that he's already willing done things that counter that image. You don't need to tell him that though.
"Thank you dear. You're quite lovely yourself," he told you. He folded his arms and sat stiffly trying to keep his stimming under control, eventually opting for some speedy finger tapping.
"Awwwwwww, thank you my love!!" you said as you finally lifted your head off his back to lean over and kiss his cheek.
This caused him to jerk in his chair and mess with the weight distribution resulting in him tipping and falling right on the floor. Instinctively he reached for the table in an attempt to break his fall. Unfortunately, he ended up grabbing his current project instead. As Donnie fell a component of his invention was ripped from it's position and landed on the floor beside him.
"Oh mi gosh! Are you okay?!" you rushed to Donnie's aid and helped him off the floor.
"I'm alright, thank you," he smiled at you softly and went to pick up his chair.
"I was just caught off guard is all," he told you, but as he bends down to grab the chair he noticed the crucial piece of his latest invention laying off to the side of it.
"GASP! Nonononono!" he picked up the piece and scrambled to his work desk to inspect the damage.
"Nooo!!" He wined in frustration. He rubbed his eyes with his thumb and index as he tried to calm himself down.
"Donnie? What's wrong?" You asked as you inched your way to his side.
"THIS!" he exclaimed shoving the broken piece in your direction before dropping his arm and turning away from his project to pace around the room.
"I'VE BEEN WORKING ON THIS FOR WEEKS AND NOW I HAVE TO BACKTRACK AND REDO DAYS OF WORK! ALL BECAUSE YOU-" he stopped talking immediately when he say your face. He had originally turned to look back at you in order to emphasize his frustration. Seeing the look on your face though, made him instantly regret letting his frustration get the better of him.
"I- I'm sorry. I- didn't mean for that... I just wanted to... um..." you were on the verge of tears and couldn't think of anything to say that would fix the issue. So you just clasped your hands together and looked to the floor.
"I'm sorry," is what you eventually settled on.
"No! no, I'm sorry," Donnie told you as he approached and grabbed your shoulder while placing the other in his chest. He leaned his head down in an attempt to catch your eye as you kept your eyes locked on the ground.
"I shouldn't have yelled like that, and besides it wasn't your fault anyways. I was the one being careless in the first place." He eventually placed his and on your other shoulder and leaned down more, practically begging for you to look at him. When you did, your eyes were big and glossy with tears that streaked on your cheeks.
"I shouldn't have distracted you," your responded and you looked back to the floor.
"No, hey, your not a distraction," he told you in a gentle voice. He stood up straight and pulled you into a firm hug, burying his snout in your hair.
"Your the best thing that happened to me. Your never a distraction," he was really hoping this got through to you.
"Really?" You sniffed.
"Really really. Two reallys," he told you. With that you adjusted to wrap your arms around him and then lay you chin in his plastron.
"Do you think ice cream would make you feel better?" you asked.
"Me feel better?" he questioned. You were the hurt one, you were the one crying. Why were you concerned about his feelings?
"Even if you think it's not my fault, no doubt you're still upset with the amount of work you have to redo," you explained, "and ice cream always makes me feel better. So would ice cream make you feel better?"
He gave you a small laugh and traded the hug to hold your hand.
"Firstly, it's not your fault," he spoke matter-a-factly while waving his other hand around dramatically, "And secondly, ice cream sounds delightful."
So with that you both made your way to the kitchen. Donnie ended up not eating any ice cream at all and instead opted for flavorless juice. He was happy enough watching you eat your ice cream with a big smile plastered on your face.
Did he have a lot of work to redo? Yes. But as long as your there it might not feel as long. He might have to make a 'no flattery while one is working in the lab' rule though. For safety.
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Leo:
Remember how Donnie had a line? Yeah, no Leo doesn't have that.
Due to this, and his already mischievous nature, you can already get him to do pretty much anything just by asking.
However he does have a responsible mood. If he's in that mood nothing will work.
you know what I mean. Like how he acts in the movie while their driving in the turtle tank?
like that, just without the internal and external issues clouding his judgment.
It's s not a bad mood, it's just not good for getting what you want.
Lucky for you he's not usually in that mood, and if he is it's usually not so bad that you can't bring I'm out of it.
That being said Leo, like the rest of his brothers, needs praise so badly that it's kinda sad.
Any praise will work but if you want him to do something absolutely idiotic to the point that even he thinks so? Your gonna need to make him feel ✨special✨
Your gonna need to pull out the my man, my champion, special man, and perfect baby.
Names like that, that make him feel like a million bucks.
If he's showing off to you, one compliment will butter that sucker up like you wouldn't believe.
He would literally do anything for you, it's not even funny, bro has no standards.
"Y/n! Hey! Hey! Y/n look! Look at this sick trick!" Leo called to you from atop their indoor skating ramp. You were on the floor below talking with April while Leo skated.
"Okay sweets I'm watching!" You call back to give him the go ahead.
With that Leo was off down the ramp. As he came up the other side and was propelled in the air he flipped the skateboard from beneath him and then landed perfectly on top as gravity pulled them back to the surface. When he came back up the other side Leo jumped off the board and looked down at you with a big grin on his face.
You and April clapped and he came down to meet you.
"What did you think??"
"I think that was awesome. Your my talented man for sure," you told him sweetly as you kissed him on the cheek. Leo blushed slightly at this before puffing his chest out and holding his skateboard all cool guy like at his hip. He used his other hand to point at himself with his thumb.
"Well not everyone can be as skilled as ah-THIS!" He boasted while punctuating his sentence with a dab.
"Okay, Mr. Talented," April teased, "If your done I'd like to tell you the reason I stopped by today."
"What?" Leo said with fake shock, "You visited for a different reason other than admiring my rad skills?"
"impossible I know," she snarked to play along with him.
"So what's up April?" You asked.
"I was working my new job as a part time graveyard day guard and I saw this totally creepy and totally abandoned house right outside my post!"
"April if you're about to tell us you saw a ghost," Leo told her.
"No! But I DID want to find out if there COULD be ghosts in there."
"Why are you telling us this?" You ask.
"Because, I'm not gonna trespass on abandoned property by myself. That's just asking to be kidnapped," she answered while folding her arms.
"I don't know April, I better stay here and keep practicing my skating skillzz, right y/n?" Leo said.
"Well I think it sounds cool April! I'd be so down to go with you!"
"Heck yeah! Girls trip!"
You two high fived and right as you hands made contact Leo popped up in-between the both of you and clasped yours and April's hands together with his own.
"Though I suppose it would be unbecoming of me to not do my chivalrous duty to you both and tag along as a safety precaution."
April looked unimpressed at Leo's forced attempt to be cool in front of you whilst also begging for your attention. As you and April let your hands down Leo's went with them and you took his empty palm in yours shooting him a soft smile.
"So what time did you have in mind?"
"Oh, I was thinking like right now if y'all aren't busy," April told you.
"Sounds good to me, come on Leon!" You said as you dragged Leo to the Lair exit.
-
Apon getting to the building it was abundantly clear that it was very abandoned and very illegal to trespass. A rusted chain link fence surrounded the building with warning signs plastered all around it. Though, it was to dark to clearly read them without a flashlight.
"Uhh, guys?" Leo started, "Are you sure we should go in there? There are way too many signs around this place for them all to be just 'no trespassing' signs,"
"Do I hear someone who is scaaaaared?" Teased April. This prompted an offended gasp from Leo who put a hand to his chest.
"SCARED?! HA! I'll show you who's scared," he snarked at her before opening a portal to bypass the fence straight to the front door. He gestures for you and April to enter first. Before you followed April in you turned to Leo.
"everything will be fine, and if something does go wrong I know you could bail us out," you smiled sweetly at him and then stepped into the portal. Leo straightened up and blushed, then sauntered confidently through the portal after you. It felt good to know you trusted him so much.
As all three of you stood at the front door you heard the sounds of the house creaking on the inside. The old wood constantly fighting to stay upright. April pushed open the door with a loud creak and shinned her light into the entry. It was dark and messy. A brownish carpet greeted you along with a broken sidebar cabinet. stairs leading up to the second floor were covered in dirt and old enough to be one big splinter. Next to the stairs was an entrance to a different room. There were also different rooms on either side of you as well. As you all shines your lights to get a better look you could see the dust particles littering the air.
"I'm gonna go investigate upstairs!" April told you before disappearing to the second floor. Leo had gravitates towards the right side entryway before turning to you and gesturing for you to follow him.
"I think this is the kitchen," he said, turning his head back. You filled him as you both inspected the room. You broke looked around and noticed some light scratching sounds coming from what you assumed to be the pantry. As you opened the door the smell of rotten food and crap hit your face and you immediately gagged. You plugged your nose with your hand and you used the other to direct the flashlight. You didn't look around for long though as you saw a small, fast moving figure rush past your foot. You let out a short yelp as you stumbled backwards and out of the pantry slamming the door shut.
In an instant Leo was by your side.
"What?! What happened?! Are you okay?!" he gave you a once over looking for any injuries you could have procured.
"Yes! Yes," you sighed out patting his shoulder, "I'm okay, just a... rat. Or something,"
"Okay. Umm, just stick close to me for now ok?" He asked you. He was clearly a little nervous, about what exactly though you couldn't say. He grabbed your hand as you both made your way out of the kitchen.
"You've been hearing those sounds too right?" He asks as he turns to you. You both stop under the archway separating the kitchen d the entryway.
"W- what sounds?" This was, admittedly, making you a little nervous yourself now.
"The scratching. Like something's in the walls," he said in a hushed voice as he squoze your hand. You didn't at first but as you sat and listened, sure enough. Scratching. Or... Scurrying? It wasn't consistent but it happened often enough.
"Yeah," you answered in the same muted tone.
"I think we should leave," Leo told you, "Whatever this houses issue is it's not gonna be ours. Let's grab April and VAMINOS."
Before you two could take more that a stepp up the stairs you hear a loud crash and the house starts to rumble. April begins to scream and you can hear her rushed footsteps against the floor and as you both try to find her you ended meeting her at the top of the stairs.
"RUUUUN!! GO GO GO!" she yelled at you. She pushed you both aside and grabbed Leo by his mask tails to pull him along. Before you two started running though, you see what April was running from. I giant hord of mutant silverfish. They took up the entire hallway from floor to ceiling and they did NOT look happy.
As Leo was being tugged along by April you were tugged by Leo who still hadn't let go of your hand. In trying to position his body to run forward easier and April still holding on to his mask tails, it ended up turning his mask on backwards and obscuring his view. As all three of you exited the house Leo tripped out the door on top of April causing you to fall on top of him.
"LEO PORTAL! PORTAL NOW!" April yelled at him.
"I CAN'T FIND MY SWORD!" he told her frantically trying to fix his mask so he could see.
"HERE TAKE IT!" you said handing it to him. The silver fish where almost in top of you by the time Leo took the sword in his hands. With a swift swing of his sword the portal was opened and all three of you stumbled through it closing right as the silverfish burst out the door.
All three of you lay on the ground between where the two skate ramps met, panting and trying to gather yourselves.
"Everyone okay?" April asked out of breath.
"Yeah," you breathed out.
"All good here," Leo puffed.
"Great..." April sat up sluggishly, "I'm gonna head out then, see ya."
And with that she stood up and left the lair. You both waved her off best you could from the ground. You both just laid there for a while catching your breaths.
"Let's never do that again," Leo said after a while.
"I don't know, I kinda had fun," you told him.
"You have got to be kidding me," he looked over at you unimpressed.
"Ya know... I saw this abandoned processing plant a couple days ago," you said turning your head to look back at him.
"Y/n. We almost died."
"And now we know to be prepared for hords of mutant silverfish," you looked at him, "Please?"
"Uuugggg. FINE. But not for a while, I need a break from whatever the heck today was," he told you.
"Sounds good to me!" You chirped and cuddled into his side.
"Yeah yeah," he playfully rolled his eyes and wrapped a lazy arm around you.
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Mikey:
Oh he is just the sweetest little buttercup to you.<3
Surprisingly though, he also is the hardest to persuade.
I mean come on, doctor delicate touch loves you but he will be quick to tell you why a certain idea is....... not so great.
That being said if you get really sad about him saying no he will do everything in his power to make you happy.
He'll make your favorite food, watch your favorite movie, play your favorite game, whatever you want that isn't the first thing that you wanted.
Out of all brothers, Mikey is the one who need praise at the most normal amount.
You guys will probably have compliment competitions while cuddling.
So safe to say praise isn't going to get this dude to do stuff for you.
However, Mikey is able to see how his brothers feel like they can't fully express their feelings and wants them to feel safe enough to do so.
Frankly he wants everyone to feel comfortable enough around him to express their true thoughts and feelings.
So if you are the kind of person to emotionally shut down or pretend like everything is fine when it's not?
He will be a bit more willing to do stuff for you.
Again, there is a line. A straight cut no exceptions line.
Buuuuuut he might be willing to find a couple loop holes just so that his darling can feel better.
Piece of advice tho, don't push it. If he feels like you don't respect his boundaries that's gonna be a whole other issue.
"Hey Mikey!" you chirp as you enter his room, "What'ca up to?"
Mikey looked up at you from the floor, you could see the canvas in front of him and got increasingly excited to see what he was putting together.
"Oh just paintin', like one does," he tells you with a cheeky smile.
"Okaaaaay," you smile back, playing along, "What'ca paintin'?"
At this Mikey looked to his right and then his left, like he was scoping out the area for spies. Except it made less sense since it was his room. Then he looked back up at you and gestured for you to come join him with his hand.
You sat down on the floor and cozied up next to your boyfriend to which he revealed his masterpiece. It was a family portrait of Splinter and his brothers from when they were younger.
"We took this picture a couple years back," he handed you a small photo, "it was always dads favorite so I'm painting it for his birthday!"
"That's so sweet Mikey!"
He smiled and blushed at the compliment. You turned back to the painting. It was beautiful. It was the same picture but Mikey had taken some creative liberties with the colors. They were bright, vibrant, and harmonious. The painting felt like it was buzzing with energy because of it. It felt warm and inviting and at the same time unpredictable. The way the lines, colors, and textures went together, it almost made the painting feel alive, and it was hypnotizing.
"It looks like you've finished, right?" you ask, turning back to him.
"Almost!" He perks, "I just have to add a few finishing touches and it will be done!"
"Weeeeeeelllll," you said mischievously, "Since they're just finishing touches, maybe I could help."
One of the first things that people find out when they meet you is that you suck butt at art. When you met Mikey he tried SO HARD to teach you but no matter how hard you tried it just never clicked. You always saw it as a cute 'opposites attract' sort of thing honestly. The proficient artist and the one who couldn't draw a dot right it they tried. How romantic.
So when your little tease entered the space Mikey knew exactly what you were trying to do.
"Oh no no no my dear," he played along, "You see, I feel your artistic talents are needed else where."
"Else where?" you questioned with big doe eyes feigning innocence.
"Yes. Else where," he told you again, still with his playful expression.
"You mean," you picked up one of his used paint brushes, "HERE! you said as you lunged forward attempting to pin him down in order to paint his face. Attempting.
"NO NOT HERE!" he giggled trying to keep the paint brush from making contact with his face. He had been mostly successful but you still managed to land a couple good swipes.
You both continued to wrestle and giggle as time went on. At one point Mikey flipped you both so he was the one pinning you and reached for a paint brush of his own. You managed to wiggle free in the nick of time and this led to you both running around his room with paint brushes in hand. Every now and again one of you would corner the other, but the other would always manage to escape leading to the chase once again. At one point you realized that you might be able to catch Mikey off guard. You see, outside of cornering each other, all you guy have really done is chase the other and try catch them.
So in a moment of what you deemed to be 'brilliance' you took an abrupt stop and made a sharp turn on your heel to face him. However, that resulted in Mikey crashing right into you and you both falling straight to the floor.
"OH ME GOSH! Are you okay y/n?!" he scrambled to get off you quickly and inspect any possible damage to your person.
"Yeah, I'm okay, I think. Just landed on something hard," you told him as you picked yourself up.
When you looked back at him there was an expression on his face that could only be described as soul crushing horror. You were so confused, and concerned until you followed his line of sight and saw exactly what you landed on.
His painting.
His super sentimental and lovingly handcrafted painting meant as a GIFT FOR HIS FATHER. and now, there was a hole straight through it. Not a small one at that. Not to mention some of the paint was still wet and had gotten smeared and smushed at the impact. There was absolutely no salvaging this painting.
"Oh Mikey I am so sorry," you were horrified at what you had caused. Mikey didn't look at you, he didn't respond either. He walked towards to ruined canvas and slowly knelt down to pick it up.
"I- I didn't mean for this to happen Mikey I'm-" he cut you off.
"Can you please go? We'll talk later, I just need to be alone right now," still without looking at you. You were so heartbroken you had to hold in your tears.
"Okay," you told him in a shaky breath. You left the lair that night, and for the first time since you've known the guys, you left in a considerably worse mood then what you had when you got there.
The look on Mikey's face haunted you that night. You hate to think that you were the one to cause that pain. You were the one that hurt him. You wanted to make it up to him but you didn't know how. It's not like you could remake the painting for him. Heck you couldn't even paint!
You decided it would be best to stay away from the lair until Mikey invited you back. Fortunately for you, it only took about four days for that to happen. Unfortunately for however, it was through a very distressing text that read 'We should talk'. Eeeee 😬
Before you went you baked some cookies to hopefully help lighten the blow. You may not be able to... 'art'... BUT YOU COULD BAKE. When you met with Mikey it was in a secluded area of Todd's Puppy Land, or whatever its called.
"Hey y/n," he said giving you a weak smile and finally looking at you. He looked tired. Like he hadn't slept since you both last talked.
"Hey Mikey," you responded, "I uh. I brought cookies." You gave and awkward smile and his expression softened. He motioned for you to sit next to him on the bench. As you did you placed the cookies between you both as to give him some space.
He sighed, "I'm sorry y/n, I didn't mean-" you cut him off.
"YOUR SORRY?! WHAT DO YOU HAVE TO BE SORRY ABOUT?!" you were exasperated.
"Well I-"
"NO! I ruined your painting that took you forever to make that you made for your dads birthday! If anyone should be sorry it's me!"
"Thank you," he told you, "and I accept you apology, but it wasn't really your fault. It was an accident due to us both being reckless."
"But I started it!"
"And I didn't stop you, *sigh* listen. I didn't mean to scare you like I did. I just get very emotionally attached to my art so I was having a lot of feelings that day. I want to make it very clear that I don't want to break up with you and I'm not mad at you."
At this, you let out a sigh you didn't even know you were holding. When he looked back at you he was shocked. Your eyes were glassy with tears and your cheeks were red. You looked so sad. And so sorry. Oh, if he didn't already regret what he said to you that day he sure did now. How could he had asked you to leave?
"I still feel bad about it," you told him looking down at your hands. He moved the cookies behind him to close the gap between you both and pulled you into a hug.
"Hey, I get it. But if it makes you feel any better I was able to fix mistakes I made the first time and clean up areas I had previously messed up. On top of that I'm pretty close to being in the same spot with its progress that I was last time," he said, trying to console you. you pulled back to look at him.
"You mean you repainted it?"
"Well yeah. It's pops birthday gift, I had to," he smiled at you.
"Didn't that take you weeks to do?!"
"The first time yeah. But I kind couldn't sleep until I was back to were I was before sooo"
THATS WHY HE LOOKED SO TIRED! HE HASN'T SLEPT IN FOUR DAYS!
"Alright well someone's going to bed right now," you told him, picking up your cookies and dragging him by the wrist. He happily complied and followed you back to the lair. Not before thanking Todd for letting you guys use his space.
Overall, you both were just glad that everything was back to normal.
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Raph:
Oh bb. He's so soft for you.
Bro will kiss the ground you walk on.
He's also the most responsible.
However most responsible does not mean least chaotic.
I mean the dude tries to lift a bus and ate a literal phone.
So honestly, I can see him being pretty open to a lot of stuff as long as your safety isn't jeopardized.
Notice how I said 'your safety'?
Yeah. Again, remember the bus incident? I refuse to believe that he wouldn't do something stupid for you as long as he's the only one with a possibility of getting hurt.
That being said, like Mikey he has a line. Unlike Mikey that line is drawn with chalk and is very easily swept away.
Now Raph does not like crossing this line. I mean who likes compromising their boundaries?
But he will do it.
Raph is very susceptible to peer pressure and if it's coming from you of all people? He'll do it.
He won't be happy about it after though.
Like he's happy your happy but he will being to feel like his feelings don't matter to you the same as yours matter to him.
So for the sake of this poor boy please don't press further if he said no the first time.
It makes him feel like a bad boyfriend. :(
You and Raph were cuddling on the couch watching Jupiter Jim movies. As per the usual when you both are bored and have nothing better to do. You were positioned on his lap knees pointing to the side so you could rest your head on his chest.
"Hey Raphy?" you said grabbing his attention.
"Yes?" he said looking down at you.
"You wanna crash a wedding?"
"What?!"
"Do you. Want to. Crash a wedding. ... With me."
"And why are we crashing a wedding?"
"Fun," you told him, "but also I'm bored."
He giggled at you. You were such a little cutie and he could never get over it.
"What would we be doing?"
"Oh ya know, dancing, eating the food, photo bombing. The ushe," you shit him a cheeky smile.
"Okay, one question though," you nodded at him, "how are we gonna do that with... this whole situation," he told you gesturing to himself.
"Sweets, we're in New York. You put on a suit jacket and act like 'this whole situation' is normal, most people will chalk it up to eccentricity," you told him.
"You sure bout that?"
"I've never been so sure about anything in my entire life."
"Well I guess we have a wedding to prepare for," he said nuzzling his snout into your cheek.
"YESSSsssssssssss!!" you exclaimed.
---
After a quick social media search you found the perfect wedding to crash. You and Raphael dusted off your best wedding attire and set out on a mission to have a good time.
You guys had made it to the reception so you just walked in and pretended like you belonged there. Raph was obviously still a little worried about walking in full green skin and three fingered but you assured him it was fine. And you were kinda right. He definitely got weird looks but he tried his best to follow your advise and pretend like was nothing was wrong. So for a while now body bothered you guys.
"See? What did I tell you, no body even cares!" You smiled at him as you pulled him to the dance floor.
"Yeah, I guess," he told you a tad nervous. He smiled at you regardless and you're both began to dance.
It was a fun, up eat song so you and Raph jumped along in your own little world. Twisting, turning, and shimming to the beat, it felt like you both were walking on air.
After dancing for a couple of songs straight you guys decided to try some of the refreshments. You took some lemonade and the little cheesecake bits and found a vacant table. You both chatted about little things, telling jokes and having a good time.
Eventually someone from the party approached you. She was a skinny old woman. Not old enough to be grey haired and senile but just old enough that she had plenty of wrinkles.
"Excuse me, I don't believe we've met," she told you as she sat down her to you, "what are your names?"
"Oh, I'm y/n and this is Raph," you gestured to him and he gave a small wave.
"Well it's nice to meet you. I'm the brides aunt Tina."
"Well in that case, congrats! I'm sure your so happy for her!"
"I am, Oliver seems like such a a nice man. He treats Sara so well. On that note, who are you here for? The bride or the groom?"
Raph sweat dropped, he didn't like lying and it made him nervous that he might have to if you both wanted to stay.
"Oh we're not," you told her honestly. Raph was relieved for about half a second before he realized that now you guys might cause a whole other scene.
"I'm sorry, not what?"
"Here for either the bride or the groom. We don't know either of them, we were just bored and wanted to dance."
"Wh-," her face showed her absolute disbelief, "This is a family and friends even you can't just waltz in uninvited!"
"Well I mean. You can. We just did. Wether or not that's a respectful thing to do is an entirely different debate though."
Tina's face was starting to turn red.
"Well! I'm going to have to ask you both to leave!" she demanded raising her voice while she stood and pointed to the exit.
"Hey, what's going on Tia?" the bride asked putting a hand on her aunts sholder.
You leaned back in your chair resting your arm over the back of it while you took a swig of your water.
"These two hooligans weren't invited! They don't know anyone here!"
"Well that's hardly fair Tina, I thought we formed a connection over the last five minutes," you teased which prompted Raph to shoot you a disapproving look. Tina looked absolutely appalled by you attitude.
"What?" you questioned Raph with a giggle, "Come on this is kinda funny."
"Your making her upset!"
"Eh, she would have been upset anyways,"
"DONT IGNORE US GET OUT! SOMEONE CALL THE POLICE!" Tina was full on screaming now, which prompted Raph to shoot out of his chair. He apologized quickly and picked you up by your sides and ran you both out of the wedding.
"Awwwww I wanted to grab some more of those cheesecake bites before we dipped."
Raph shook his head and smiled.
"Your unbelievable."
229 notes · View notes
mitsies · 10 months
Note
i just read "intrinsic warmth" and it was sooo good ( YOU AHVE AMAZING TASTE). pls give us more gojo recs ao3 or tumblr.
gojo + ao3:
UPDATED
+ intrinsic warmth: my favourite fic of all time. like genuinely. insane writing, fucking amazing in every sense of the term. 2nd time recommending this! reader's character is so sick BUT updates real slow (which isnt a bad thing!! good things take time!!) so i wouldn't read if you aren't patient // 90k words, 13 chapters, incomplete
+ ripverse: not really a series, more like a compilation of fics! it's got a lot of angst and the one titled 'interlude' contains smut i think so beware, and it's also a lovetriangle/poly-but-geto-goes-crazy-so-not-poly moment // 55k words, 8 pieces
+ the witches' brew: super cute fluff! reader owns a cafe, gojo is a regular, it's all around adorable // 2 chapters, 11k words, completed
+ all that is solid melts into air: arranged marriage trope! i haven't read but @/aanobrain loves this one // 7k words, 1 chapter, complete
+ cake batter: established relationship w/ dad!gojo & megumi <33 not much to say, just short n sweet, i am such a sucker for dad gojo so its no surprise there's one of these on the list.. // 2k words, 1 chapter, complete
+ best of luck: initial concept is really unique!! confessions, slight angst, takes place at the beginning/middle-ish of s1 i think? so cute loved this &lt;;3 // 5k words, 1 chapter, complete
+ afternoon tea(se): gojo torturing megumi. classic !! so so cute love the banter // 1.7k words, 1 chapter, complete
+ my apologies, gordon ramsay: god i hate this man. jk. reader is a teacher and a functional human being; gojo is not. loved! // 8k words, 1 chapter, complete
+ a name known only to paper: platonic, angst- beautifully written, such a unique idea. reader is gojo's older sibling. // 3k words, 1 chapter, complete
gojo + tumblr:
+ untitled by @/augustinewrites: actually idk if there's a title and if i just can't find it but... this is so so cute love me a lil drunkass gojo hes so cute and the author writes him so well i am a huge fan LMFAO just check out their whole masterlist if u havent alr!!
+ i could fall asleep or stare in your eyes (you're right by my side) by @/seoafin: hurt/comfort !!! lovely, this author's writing style is so so good i eat this shit UPP
+ growing pains by @/seoafin: another lovely work by this author!! im pretty sure they also wrote ripverse (on the ao3 part) as well? parental gojo again!
+ close combat by @aanobrain: honestly it's taking everything in me to not link all of art's gojo fics so i'm limiting myself to my fav 3, and this is one: love the reader's personality, so so much and NO im not biased bc i helped write it....
+ family photo by @aanobrain: fifteen THOUSAND words of pure mastery. the motifs, techniques, all make an intricate storyline even better- wonderful characterisation and i cannot express enough how amazing this is
+ 10:15 AM by @aanobrain: short n silly. this one makes me giggle. i requested it in return for an aki fic i wrote which is how u know its good. ok bye done w aanobrain art now i dont even know them who is this
+ quiet game drabble by @/moonbeamwritings: so so cute looooove silent treatment fics bc theyre always so silly n this is characterised so well !!
+ no good, very bad date by @sixosix: again i am fighting my demons to not rec all of six's gojo fics........ THIS ONE IS MY FAV THO!!! so so fluffy so sooo fluffy i thrw up in my mouth (in a good way)
+ fan letters by @sixosix: FLUSTERED GOJO............. i was hissing and squirming and [REDACTED] wjen i read this for the first time. short n so so sweet
+ formation b! by @earthtooz: oh god another place where i want to give u the whole masterlist... go check it out if u havent alr but this is a classic i LOOOVE my sillies !! teacher gojo based on that one ending cutscene w megumi its so so sweet
+ untitled by @earthtooz: ok again idk if there is a title i am finding all of these fics bc theyre saved in my drafts but.... THIS IS SO CUTE!! if i were to give it a name i'd call it 'gojo being awhore but only for u'
+ untitled by @/od4saku: hmmmmmmmmm this is cute!!!!! kinda a character study i liked it ;)
okay so... this is as far as ima go because i have been staring at this man's face and name for way longer than is probably healthy!! but if u want more recs i'm sure i can find some because i'm actually insane!! hope i could help !
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avocado-writing · 9 months
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notes: I did a lot of research for this and yes, the manuscript I reference is a real thing. I didn’t put its name in though because that felt a step too far 😂 set in the light, the dark, and the spaces in between after ch3 so hope that’s ok! requests like this give me life.
relationship: aziraphale x immortal!reader x crowley
rated: G, pure fluff
word count: 1.4K
if you like my work you can buy me a kofi!
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You’re the one who makes the tea. 
That’s because you’re the only one who changes how you have it: sometimes you fancy a chai, or a green tea, or a lapsang souchong. Sometimes with sugar or a little bit of milk, sometimes with neither, sometimes with an oat alternative. It changes. You’re human, you go through phases. 
But Aziraphale and Crowley? Nah, they’re creatures of habit. Despite the angel’s wide and experimental palate he’s oddly rigorous when it comes to his cuppa. For him, it’s loads of milk and four sugars, drowned to the point where it could hardly be called tea any more. Crowley likes his black and strong and nowhere near anything that could affect the taste. You wring the teabag tortuously into his mug with a teaspoon before grabbing all three servings and heading into the shop. 
You put yours down first, on the side next to the book you’re currently reading, then hand your husbands theirs. They both take them from you in the same way, the way they have done for centuries now, a domestic ritual: accepting the mug you offer and then your hand, pressing a little kiss of thanks and affection to the back of it. 
A heartfelt  intimacy just between the three of you. 
☕️ 
“Hurry Crowley, it’s starting!”
“Yes, yes, alright angel, hang on.”
“We won’t hang on and we’re not pausing it. Not a threat, just a fact,” you call into the kitchen. A couple of seconds later, Crowley emerges from the kitchen with three wine glasses and a bottle of Pinot Grigio. 
“I’ll be mother, then,” he mutters as the other two of you barely take your eyes off of the telly. You’ve got your legs slung over Aziraphale’s lap and he only takes a break from stroking your knee in absentminded, loving circles to take the proffered glasses from his husband, one for himself and one for you. Crowley plonks down the other side of Aziraphale and throws his own legs over him too, the two of you playing footsie for space across his plush thighs. Eventually the three of you find a comfortable pile and settle in. 
“Another ten weeks of torture begins,” Crowley says as the Bake-off theme ends and the show starts. You nudge him with your toe. 
“You don’t have to watch it with us,” you tell him. He harrumphs but doesn’t argue because, really, of course he’ll watch it with the two of you. It makes you both happy. 
🍞 
Your work is as a consultant for museums around the country, which is a fun way of saying you get paid a lot because you know a lot. But mostly, you only know a lot because you’ve been around for a very long time. So whenever a shard of pottery or a scrap of clothing needs dating they call you to come and put its history into context. 
Also, for the bigger museums, it’s a chance for you to smuggle out the stolen artefacts and return them to their country of origin. You consider it a hobby, a bonus perk of the job. 
You’ve set up this exhibition. It’s for pottery around the end of the Roman rule in Britain, stuff you’ve found and identified around the country on archaeological digs. You lead Crowley and Aziraphale through, discussing your findings in detail, before you come to a small, surprisingly intact, terra sigillata oil lamp. It sits on its own, spot lit. You asked for it that way. 
“See this? I made this. Over a thousand years ago,” you tell them, quietly, gently putting your hand to the glass of the display case. Aziraphale and Crowley take a careful look at the engraving on the object. It bears the profile of a man, and with the sharp cheekbones and little glasses there’s only one person it could be. 
“Oh, Nightingale. It’s lovely,” Crowley says, surprisingly touched. He wraps an arm around you and buries his face into your hair. 
“You could say I’ve held a flame for you for a long time,” you say, and grin. Crowley groans. 
“Did you put my face on a lamp just to keep that pun up your sleeve?”
“Maybe.”
🔥 
You next return to the museum when you pick up that Aziraphale is jealous. He isn’t jealous often but he’s pants at hiding it, and it’s not hard to guess why: he’s just seen that Crowley stuck with you for such a long time you put his face on a piece of bloody pottery. You’d probably be a bit put out too. 
So for a couple of weeks you throw yourself into your work to find the thing that will make it even. And you do, even though it takes a lot of overseas bargaining and promises to do some pro-bono work. 
You finally get the museum in America to agree to send it over for a showing. You arrange a special exhibition specifically for this, where it’s held behind a huge glass case in a dark room with only a small light on it. 
But you get special access because, well, you’re you. So you sneak Aziraphale and Crowley in one night and walk into the display room, wearing a face mask and a pair of protective gloves. 
There it sits: the Canterbury Tales. One of the oldest versions in the world. 
“Oh, this is wonderful!” Aziraphale gasps, peeping over your shoulder to inspect. “I can feel the adoration coming off of it in waves. This was a labour of love, wasn’t it?”
“Yes. I’d let you have it for the shop if I had the power. But I think they’d notice if I shoved this one down my top,” you sigh, scanning the pages for what you’re after, then stop dead when you find it. 
“Here. Look.”
You point to one of the illustrations, a mounted rider on a beautiful white horse. Aziraphale takes in a quiet breath and draws closer. Because just as plainly as you put Crowley on your oil lamp, you drew your angel in the Canterbury Tales. Curly hair, pink face, beaming smile. 
“Oh my,” he whispers. You stroke the little picture and remember toiling away over painting it, repeatedly wiping your brow to make sure your sweat didn’t smudge your work. 
“I put you in all the copies I could get my hands on. And you,” you turn to Crowley, “your face is probably buried on my pottery in a dozen dig sites across the UK. I’m just saying I’ve loved the two of you since the day we met; always have, always will.”
Your husbands look at each other and then at you, before as one they step forward to embrace you. 
“And we’re lucky to have you,” Crowley whispers in your ear, as Aziraphale kisses your cheek. Their hands meet at your back and they interlace their fingers with each other, you wrap your arms around them and stay like that for a moment; three working parts of a whole. 
They kiss, and then they kiss you. You feel warm and rosy. Then you spend the evening reading through the book from beginning to end. 
📖 
You keep your wedding ring on a chain around your neck at work. Not because you’re embarrassed that you're married; far from it - it’s far too precious to risk losing while constantly taking protective gloves on and off all day. So you don’t blame your colleague for asking you on a date. He’s young, fresh out of uni, and of course has no idea you’re old enough to be his grandparent forty times over. 
“That’s very kind,” you tell him, and his face falls because he knows where this is going, “but I’m already happily married.”
He sighs in embarrassment but manages to recover quickly, instead telling you: “they must be someone special to have you.”
He’s doing the polite thing by not assuming the gender of your spouse but it turns out “they” is right on the money. On cue, Aziraphale and Crowley walk through the door to pick you up at the end of your shift. You wish your colleague goodbye and go to meet them. 
“Evening, darling,” Crowley calls. 
“How was work, my love?” Aziraphale follows up. 
“Oh, fine. I’m tired now. And hungry. Can we go and get dinner?”
You link an arm through either of theirs, heading out into the London afternoon. 
“Ooh yes, that is a good idea. I quite fancy fish and chips!”
“Let’s go to that spot round the corner. They make their own tartar sauce. Crowley, are you getting your own chips or nicking mine when I’m not looking?”
“The best tasting chips are the ones you steal.”
“Oh, he doesn’t even deny it—!”
Your colleague watches you leave the building, a little dazed, and supposes it takes all sorts to make a world. 
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Taglist: @angiestopit @dazed-soul @idontmeanto @smile-eywa @staygoldsquatchling02 @underratedboogeyman @specter-soltare @candlewitch-cryptic @cool-ontherun-world @emilynissangtr @willbedecided @cool-iguana @bdffkierenwalker
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tojirin · 9 months
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cardigan.
🌀 megumi x gn!reader . fluff , megumi having a crush on reader , silly gojo and yuji , megumi in denial . proofread? nah . WC: 3.4k
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"and when i felt like a cardigan under someone's bed, you put me on and said I was your favorite."
Megumi never knew how it felt to actually love someone other than his sister Tsumiki, but now she's gone. But that was until you came along, when he first saw you felt as he respected you, which was an peculiar since there was very few people he actually respected, he didn't even know your name until something, no someone interrupted his thoughts and that someone had to happen to be Gojo. "Heyyy!! first years listen up since this is important!" he said with a slightly goofy tone which caused you to giggle. "so.. are you gonna tell us what you wanna say??" Nobara said with an annoyed tone. "I was getting to that! meet your new classmate, [name]!" Gojo just dropped that bomb and happily skipped away. You took that as a cue to actually introduce yourself, hey! i'm [name] I hope we can get along." It didn't take long for Yuji and Nobara to introduce themselves, but it took a while longer for Megumi finally i introduce himself. "Hello, um..i'm Megumi, Megumi Fushiguro." you reached out your hand for Megumi to shake. "Hey gumi! its nice to meet you, wait is it okay that I call you gumi? i don't know but I feel like I can be casual with you.." "Yeah it's completely fine, don't worry." Megumi isn't sure why he agreed considering he hates when Gojo calls him it. "Well! bye guys I have to get something from Yaga! i'll see y'all later?.." "yeah! byeee!" Yuji and Nobara said in unison.
It was has three months since you transferred to jujutsu high and you've grown plenty close with everyone. Currently it was currently 8:49pm, all students had to be in the dorms by 9:30pm, Yuji and Megumi were in his dorm talking about random topics until Yuji decided to bring up something he noticed lately. "Hey Megumi?" "yes Itadori?.." "You known [name] right? what's up between you and them, you totally give them goo-goo eyes when y'all interact!! you totally have a crush on them! Yuji said while having a giggle fit. "No, I dont, itadori." "You totally doooo!!" by now Yuji was rolling around while wiping his tears from laughter. when he calmed down he spoke up saying "soo you don't mind if I ask them out?" Megumi has never gone silent so quickly. "So you do! I was just kidding!!..so if you like them.." "I don't." no matter how hard Megumi tried to shut down the idea of him having a crush on you Yuji kept on insisting he confessed to you since he noticed the way your eyes would linger when it came to Megumi. Yuji thought if Megumi didn't wanna confess his feelings he'd had to force it out of him. "Megumi! if you don't confess by tomorrow I'm telling them! "ok." "that's all it took?" "i'm not letting you make a fool of me."
That's basically the reason Megumi is currently trying to get the courage outside your dorm to confess since he knew you were in it. Megumi was thinking that the worse was you'd reject him and he'd have to ignore his feelings for the rest of his life, not too bad right? *knock* *knock* then fifteen seconds of pure silence. Then a door opens, he noticed you looked like you got ready in a rush. "O-oh! hey Megumi! I wasn't really expecting for you to be here right now.." "yeah." "well..is there something you need?" "I like you, would you go out with me sometime?" he said very bluntly which made you go wide eyed with shock, considering you never thought he would like you back.
"I would love to."
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★ © tojirin ʚɞ 2023
part 2 drabble maybeee??🙈🙈
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ribbonswrld · 6 months
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clingy bada while shes drunk, yk
OHOH I LOVE THIS
idk if this is what u wanted but for now i'll write as if reader & bada arent dating yet although there is mutual pining!! <3
bada lee as a clingy drunk!!
cw: drunk bada, pure fluff!! not really proofread either >_< OH and english isnt my first language so go easy on me <3
so for context u nd bada have been close friends for a while!! and ur both mutually pining ^_^ and ur roomma OH MY GOD THEY WERE ROOMMATES‼️‼️
anywho, you were all cozy on your appartment couch reading a book when bada came back from her get together with her old dance friends !!
the sound of the door opening made u grin rlly wide and u promptly closed your book!
and then. there she is. looking gorgeous and thoroughly... flushed?
and she just. she just lays her eyes on you and immediately breaks into a goofy smile, a small giggle escaping her lips
and ur just!!! shes so cute!!! but i think shes drunk!!! onno!!!
and before you even have a chance of getting up this tall puppy is clumsily throwing herself onto you!!
AND SO ALL HER LONG LIMBS ARE JUST DRAPED ON YOU!! and shes GIGGLING into your neck!;$/);$/
and GOD!! ure SO FLUSTERED?$:??).$
because usually YOU'RE!! the one boldly initiating physical affection like this!!
nontheless u cant help but giggle in delight albeit the fact that ur heart is just going WILD!!
"did u have fun!"
she just. hums and repositions herself so that she can look at u... in silence
and god. shes all starry eyed all gooey mushy lovey dovey looking at you, cheeks flushed and shy smile...
ur heart SQUEEZES.
"mh... would'a been more fun with you.." she mumbles, taking back her place in the crook of your neck and she!! just rubs her face there affectionately just like a kitten omfgbsjfh
a little dazed laugh escapes you cuz holy shit shes being so fucking cute?$:! and u just start petting her hair..
"sure, sure, because i wouldve fit in soo well with you dance people..." you joke: u actually cannot dance for shit LMFAO but its ok!!
and then she just she just grunts, curling up on you.. which is kind of silly looking because shes just so long and tall but god if it isnt heart squeezing!
"but i want'd to show my prett' baby off..."
OH.WELL
might aswell justve created a new shade of red with the way your cheeks were looking at this point because JESUS.
"im- you-" and then she just hushes you and holds your face in her hands so gently...
"shh. my pretty baby... love you so much..." she mumbles, pressing a fat kiss on your forehead :((
URE MELTING URE DYING URE ACTUALLY GOING TO PASS AWAY
BUT NOPE SHES NOT GIVING YOU ANY BREAKS
" 'm so sad when 'm not with u... should jus' keep you in my arms always... nev'ah let you escape... sweet angel..." she just rambles, caressing ur cheeks with her thumbs and still holding ur face
her gaze is so sleepy but so warm and loving and ;(((
she gives you one last forehead smooch and goes back to curling up against you sleepily and contently...
u actually feel like crying!!! because how can she be so sweet like);$/?:$-$ 😭😭
oh boy do u both have to talk in the morning..!! but for now, you've got a sleepy giant to take care of <3
CLAWING AT THE WALLS. THANK U FOR THIS REQUEST I HAD SO MUCH FUN I THINK I WILL EAT A SLAB OF CONCRETE NOW
SORRY IF ITS A LITTLE SHORT TT MWAH
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