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#i just realized that this has been in my drafts for a while
sepublic · 2 days
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Speaking of; The Owl House's pitch bible got leaked as well! So while I look for the rest of it, let’s examine some interesting tidbits I found on Proto-Belos, or 'Obron' as he was once known, and William AKA Proto-Hunter!
Can I just say, I'm quite smug to know that Belos resurrecting the Titan as his endgame was always the original plan? I called it from the start! It was also kinda obvious, but c'mon. The Bionicle fan in me was obsessed.
I'm not surprised about the mentions of Pupa, or the name Obron or even the appearance; We've actually seen all of this before! But what does make me curious is the mention of two other councilors... So there's supposed to be a trio? Again, I always bring up the three statue motif in my speculation about the original plans of the show, I wonder if there's any connection there. Would Kikimora have been one of the other councilors, and who would've been the third? And it seems the coven system was always a thing, early on at least.
Yeah, the mention of '500 years' and the connection to William, etc. Even as Obron he was supposed to have been a human witch hunter turned actual witch. Comparing this to the pilot we got, it may not be Obron that the characters are referring to, since he's not the Emperor. But maybe he declared himself Emperor since he was basically the only one in charge by that point.
Makes me wonder if he hates humans under the delusion of 'I hate modern humans'. He hates what humanity has become and he's taking out his anger on modern humans; We also know the main reason he wants Luz in the pilot, to awaken the Titan. I presume Obron preserved William in stasis and hid him away, only for Luz to wake him up earlier than intended. I can imagine the scene/episode where Obron realizes William has been awake and roaming about for a while now...
There's the confirmation that Prince William and Hunter are the same character, or were. As I guessed, his witch-hunting tendencies would've been established early on as a strange gag, a quirk, only to become so much more darkly significant. I wonder if in this draft, Obron's past as a witch hunter also has relevance; Does he think he's 'saving' humanity by using the Titan to conquer both worlds, wiping out the denizens of one? Also him being a feral kid subsisting off of food given to him by friends is such Labyrinth Runners vibes. Was William always going to have his dynamic with Willow, given Luz plays a bigger role in him opening his mind?
Given we had a 'proof of concept' animation leaked a while back, I wonder if that was an even earlier draft to the pitch bible, given William is PRINCE William. Maybe he's meant to be an actual European human, because European bigotry towards witches existed back then I think, even if it wasn't as pronounced. And Obron does bear a resemblance to one of the Proto-Belos designs, though I'm not sure which came first.
…Huh. Would William have been Obron’s nephew or. God. Would he have been his brother. And while William never grew up because magical stasis, Obron did and now sees his brother be the exact same but also change. Man. And William just has to reconcile, when he gets his memories back, the jump from his brother, a kid like him, to Obron. So we still got the desperate attempt to preserve his brother, only for his brother/Hunter to ‘betray’ him.
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hwangism143 · 2 days
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dim lights (work nights)
synopsis: work party. seungmin is a suit. a glass of wine. oh, you are so done.
pairing: lawyer!seungmin x fem!reader
genre: workplace romance, fluff, teensy angst
warnings: drinking, punching jokes, swearing
word count: 1.2k words
a/n: been in my drafts for like a week hehe. suit seungmin has me screaming. anyways, enjoy and pls drop any and all feedback!
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"I'll be charging ten dollars to punch him in the face, upon your generous request," murmured a low voice tantalizingly close to your ear.
You scoffed, "The things I want to do to Davies go far beyond a modest punch to the face. Those things could get me in jail."
One arm across your waist and the other's elbow propped upon your hand, you turned to face the owner of the honeyed voice that just offered you an extremely lucrative deal moments. Swirling around the remaining wine in your wine glass, you studied Kim Seungmin as he studied you.
"In that case," Seungmin sighed, "You'll have to pay my legal consultancy fees which, I'm afraid is far higher."
A laugh bubbled from your lips as Seungmin smirked at your rage. Watching one of the many people you were currently pitted against for a promotion kissing up to your boss made anger blossom within you. Then again, you weren't exactly known for being the most level-headed lawyer employed at the Prescott, Park and Daley Legal Firm.
But you, along with Seungmin, were known for being the best.
You offered Seungmin eyes that reflected betrayal. "I thought you would bail me out for free. I thought we were friends," you chastised.
"We most definitely are not friends, darling," said Seungmin smugly.
A smirk was forming on his lips and an eyebrow was ticked up. You felt yourself being stripped bare under his piercing gaze and flirtatious smile. Oh how he loved torturing you.
You caught your lip between your teeth to drink him in, deciding to conveniently ignore the fact that your teeth were currently in the process of being stained by your dark red lipstick. Seungmin's hair was styled to perfection, his skin was glowing and his eyes stayed on you as if you were a person he wished to learn every fold of. His three-piece suit was tailored to perfection and hugged his body perfectly.
You looked away and hoped he attributed your flushed face to the wine you were drinking. He was right though. You and Seungmin were not friends, not in the conventional sense. It was more of a situation where being paired up so much over the seven years that you spent at the firm caused to the two of you to become comfortable in each other's presence.
Both you having graduated top of your class from law school (you went to Harvard Law while Seungmin opted for Princeton), you both joined the law firm at the same time, full of dreams and aspirations. At first, you both considered one another as rivals. Constantly being compared truly made you inhibit a sort of begrudging sense of dislike towards him.
However, working your first together, truly made you realize how he was actually a very caring person. Seungmin constantly knew what to say to you without even saying anything. He brought you food and made you ramen after he found out your extreme affection towards the Korean delicacy.
You and Seungmin, however, came from strikingly different backgrounds. Seungmin lived comfortably and had a wealthy upbringing, which caused people to often underestimate his hard work. You went to school on an eighty percent scholarship but still worked three jobs to pay of your student loan, causing people to often very offensively doubt your etiquette.
You heard the rumors about rich kid Seungmin during your initial weeks at the firm. Allegedly (you are a lawyer, of course you use the word allegedly more than any other word over), he lived in a high rise apartment with so many floors that a helicopter, a fucking helicopter,crashed into the side of it.
You took extreme pride in being the only one to know that this was, in fact, true, as confirmed by the man himself.
Forcing your eyes to go back to Seungmin, your gaze sat on the horrendous lump which he called his 'tie'.
"It's on wrong," you remarked, motioning towards Seungmin's tie. He gave you shrug. "Fix it for me?"
You set down your now empty glass on the sleek granite table and the private restaurant lounge your colleagues and high playing clients were currently in. The low jazz music and soft lighting gave the entire room an ambience of romance. This was only heightened by Seungmin's sudden desire to covertly flirt with you.
Reaching around his neck to undo his tie, you never broke eye contact with him. You could feel his gaze start from your eyes and trail all the way down to your black stilettoes. He had a faint smile on his face. So he likes what he sees?
Finishing with a scoff, you send him away with a pat on his arm in a futile attempt to diffuse the tiny fireworks that were popping all over your body. Seungmin disappeared into the crowd to socialize, leaving you his scent surrounding your very being.
Grabbing another drink (a mojito), you walked over to the table where Seungmin's paralegal, Hyunjin, sat scrolling on his phone. Both of you being ambiverts who leaned more towards the introverted side, you both often found yourself sitting at the quiet people table in silence.
You could see Hyunjin's welcoming eyes move from you to somewhere behind you, morphing into one of distaste. You followed his line of sight to find your paralegal, Yeji, downing shots like her life depended on it. Although Hyunjin loved his cousin, he wouldn't be caught dead doing the things she did.
"You're painfully fond of him," started Hyunjin in mock annoyance, "It's disgusting."
You rolled your eyes at him and gave him a light slip. Hyunjin dramatically feigned pain and pushed a plate of food towards you. Your stomach rumbling as if on cue, you pounced on the food and relished it. That was one good thing about these corporate meetings; they had free food, at least as far as girl logic went.
Finishing up with a satisfied sigh, you looked up only to lock eyes with a notorious Mr. Peterson, a heavily disliked client who loved hitting on women. The bartender, Chan, offered you a sympathetic smile and slid you a shot of tequila.
"You're gonna need it," he said pitifully, patting your hand twice for reassurance.
Suppressing the urge to slap the now emerging Mr. Peterson and plastering on a fake smile, you turned to face the cause of your sorrow. The short, balding man's attempt at making any nonsensical, non-professional conversation was shot down by you quickly. You waved around your hand around, hoping he would take note of the large diamond ring that sat nestled in you finger.
You hoped he would take the hint about your marital status. You were loyal to your husband to a fault. Behind you, a Kim Seungmin watched you in amusement. You felt both sadness and anger seep into you. Sadness because he wasn't near you and anger because you were left alone to deal with a human shaped insolence.
Finally escaping from the clutches of Mr. Peterson grubby hands, you put your head down on the cold marble slab. Your hands held your heels and your head was already pounding from the effects of alcohol. Behind you, you heard a laugh that you knew unmistakable belonged to Seungmin. Turning around, you came face to face with a seemingly put together and knowingly exhausted Seungmin.
"Working hours are over," you said wearily.
"So?" came Seungmin's dry response.
You held your arms up like a child. "So, would you like to carry your extremely drunk yet adorably lovable wife home?"
Seungmin pressed a kiss to your forehead and duly obliged.
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main taglist (reply to be added) - @linoalwaysknows
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ludicdoll · 9 hours
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hello! been obsessed with your work! (I think I already read all archie madekwe x reader fics from you tbh). Been sobbing over Lizzy McAlpine's song Vortex. And I couldn't stop imagining Farleigh x reader who is in an on and off again relationship. Reader tries to stop herself from going back every time he's at her doorstep begging. But always fails. And it's just sad. LMAO
𝐌𝐈𝐃𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐀𝐍𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐑
farleigh start ☆
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pairing: farleigh start x fem!reader
contents: angst, mentions of sex, slut calling, farleigh being a little bitch, reader is also an american, smoking, suggestive at the end but no smut, kinda toxic
synopsis: although your relationship with farleigh is complicated, you can’t help but run back to him every time he needs you.
a/n: this is so late im sorry i’ve been so busy and this has been sitting in my drafts for a while😭
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there’s something so alluring about farleigh that makes you chase him constantly—even if he pays no attention to you. you long for his approval, his touch, and in his absence you realize you can’t seem to function correctly without him. your relationship with farleigh is complex, to say the least, and everybody around you knows this. whenever you would tell felix that you and farleigh had split up again, he always replied with “give it a week.” and somehow, he’s always right. but, this one was different. you split up with farleigh a few weeks ago and he hasn’t even tried to make an attempt to contact you. he knew you’d come back around sooner or later, but you were persistent on keeping your ground.
your breakup with farleigh was because he had called you a slut, just straight up—which was quite ironic because he was the known campus whore. usually you would ignore his silly and childish name calling, but you hated him calling you a slut, it was too degrading for you. you remember the way farleigh blew up in your face when you told him the two of you were over, it was a priceless expression. now, you’re currently standing outside of the saltburn estate, leaning up against one of the large extravagant stone pillars. felix was hosting a party tonight, a big one at that. the colorful flashing lights can be seen outside, a neon cast over the large grassy field.
you decide to step out for a smoke and some fresh air after you locked eyes with farleigh as he was dancing with a girl, her hips grinding against his. that image alone made you shiver in disgust. although you had broken up with him, you missed him bad. you tried to deny it, but if you had to be honest with yourself—you didn’t know who you were without farleigh. if only he would give you a genuine apology, everything would be fine but his pride stopped him from doing so.
you turn your head when you hear the grand doors behind you creaking open. you watch as felix stumbles out, his dark brown hair disheveled from the party. you’re surprised to see him since he had vanished halfway through the party with some random girl you presume. felix turns, a surprised expression on his face. you look over at him, smiling weakly as you raise your cigarette to your lips.
he stands by the door for a minute, stretching his neck before walking over to you. “what are you doing out here?” he asks. felix scans your appearance, eyes widening when he spots a bottle of vodka in your hands, the same bottle that mysteriously disappeared a few hours ago. you shrug slightly, tired and feeling nauseous from the amount of drinks you’ve had tonight. “you missing the states?” felix nudges at your arm playfully. you stare ahead, shaking your head. “i just needed to clear my mind,” you mutter as you lift the bottle to your mouth, taking a long gulp. felix notices that you’re out of it, and he looks concerned. “you haven’t been yourself.” he starts, “ever since farleigh—” you raise your hand out, your palm facing him. “don’t. mention. him.” you groan, rubbing your temples to soothe your migraine.
“he misses you,” felix smiles widely. you stare at the red cups littered on the paved ground, slowly zoning out. “we’re not talking.” you reply, he sighs in return. “well, he wouldn’t stop talking about you in professor anderson’s class.” you turn to look at him, raising a suspicious brow. you think he’s joking at first, but his face is completely straight.
“really? i didn’t know the two of you even attended classes.” you joke in an attempt to move the topic elsewhere. “oh, ha ha.” felix replies sarcastically. there’s so many things racing through your mind, but at the same time—your thoughts are empty. you think that the alcohol from tonight has made you more sensitive. “i don’t like it when you guys fight.” felix mutters as he slowly takes your bottle away from your grip. “you should stop drinking too,” he waves the half empty bottle in front of your face.
“it’s not a fight, felix. it’s a breakup.” felix scoffs, shaking his head with a laugh. you turn to look at him, a scowl on your face. “oh, so you think i’m gonna run back to him?” you ask in a bitter tone. he steps back a little, blinking at your unexpected tone switch. “what? i didn’t say anything.” he says defensively. you suddenly feel irritated at everything around you. you excuse yourself abruptly while he tries to explain himself. you speed past him, leaving felix by himself outside while you open the doors to the mansion.
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you can’t stop fidgeting with your pen, clicking it rapidly as you scan the words in the open book in front of you. you were sitting in the library, not for the sake of studying but for the sole purpose of distracting yourself from having a mental breakdown in your dorm. you couldn’t even think straight since your hangover was so bad. you hadn’t tried to dress up today, you didn’t even bother to put on makeup or fix up your hair. you knew people would see you and talk, but you were so tired you couldn’t do it. usually when you and farleigh would split, you’d still be in close contact with your (who were really just his) friends. however, this was different. everyone seemed to be avoiding you—everyone except felix. whenever you’d ask to hang out, their only excuses were “i have to study,” or, “i’m busy tonight,” and when they see you, they’d scurry off in a blink of an eye.
you could only imagine what bullshit story farleigh has came up with your break up to make them run away from you. felix was the only person who still spoke to you, but now you think you’ve lost him after what had happened at the party last night. you stop clicking your pen when you hear a cough in front of you. you look up, freezing up when you see a familiar curly haired boy in front of you. “fancy seeing you here.” he says. you scoff, rolling your eyes and avoiding his gaze. he laughs quietly to himself before crossing his arms. “i didn’t know you studied.” he emphasizes the word “studied” almost like he was attempting to mock you—but he knew you did study, he just wanted to make fun of you. “i didn’t know you even knew what a library was.” you snap back instantly, farleigh just smiles blankly at you as he pulls a chair out and seats himself right across from you.
“what do you want?” you ask sternly. he sighs, shrugging. a tense silence fills the air and you’re slowly suffocating. “i’m serious, farleigh.” he stays quiet, his eyes still on you. “what did you tell the others?” you inquire.
“hmm?”
“no one’s talking to me anymore.”
“that’s not true,” he laughs, “felix was just talking to you last night.” you squint at him, brows furrowed. “were you watching us?” you ask. farleigh tilts his head to the side, flashing a deadpan expression. “please, i have better things to do.” he replies arrogantly. you nod, closing your eyes. “i’m sure you do.” you look back down to read the words on the page, not taking in any of the information—but just so farleigh would piss off. you could still see him in your peripheral vision, but this time he’s leaned closer against the table. “get a life, farleigh.” you mumble under your breath. he laughs dully, a small smirk forming on his lips. “that is rich coming from you. you really like assuming shit, don’t you?”
“well maybe if you took my name out of your mouth, i wouldn’t be assuming.” you reply nonchalantly as you close the book, standing up to leave. you pack your stuff back in your bag, turning away from him. he mouths a quiet “wow” before getting up from the chair as well, following closely behind you. he swiftly steps in front of you, blocking you from leaving. he leans closer to you, just inches away from your face. “you think you’re all that,” he starts. “but in reality, you’re just a fucking whore with no personality.” you quietly wince at his response, eyes wide. “you’re lucky that i even gave you a fucking chance. i made you known, and this is how you repay me?” farleigh spits out, he sounds truly angry—you’ve never heard him like this before. “but it’s fine,” he says while leaning back up, “such a shame, you’re a pretty face. too bad you’re boring.”
you can’t muster up a snappy comeback, you just stare at him, scanning his face for any sign of empathy—but there’s nothing. he just looks distant and cold. you glance around, realizing there was a few students nearby listening. you sniffle under him, blinking away your tears as you quickly brush past his arm.
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it hurts to pretend like you don’t care about what other people said about you, because in actuality you take all of their words into consideration—especially farleigh’s. you had successfully avoided farleigh all week ever since the conversation in the library, and in an attempt to make yourself feel better, you had finally started dressing and glamming up. of course, there was still rumors going around about you and farleigh, every day it seemed like there was a new bizzare one. you had just came back from shopping, sitting on the carpet of your dorm. it was getting dark, everyone else in the hall was getting ready for bed. as you slowly dive into a wormhole of your own thoughts, the sound of an abrupt knock on your door brings you back to reality. you blink, turning your head to look at the door.
you choose to ignore it, pretending like you weren’t there. then, another string of knocks pound on your door loudly. “oh my god, i’m coming!” you yell out as you get up from the floor. you pad over, opening it with an unenthusiastic swing. the person standing infront of you was the last person you expected—farleigh. you almost screamed when you saw him standing there. you groan loudly and roll your eyes, immediately reaching to shut the door on him. before you could lock him out, farleigh stops the door with his hand. “can we talk?” he mutters with his head low, almost as if he was afraid someone was going to hear him. you stand still in the crack of the door, contemplating whether or not you were gonna let him in. farleigh whines, shaking his head slightly.
“please?”
you sigh in defeat, slowly creaking the door open for him. he gives you a small smile before sliding through. he looks around your room for a second, taking in every aspect of your interests plastered on the walls. farleigh sits down on the edge of your bed, realizing he’s never actually seen your dorm before. whenever the two of you would fuck, it was always in his dorm, a random bathroom at the pub, or somewhere at the saltburn mansion. he runs his hand against the soft duvet of your bed, laughing to himself when he spots a pile of stuffed animals by your pillows. you shut the door, turning to face him with your hands on your hips. you stare at him, raising your brows as a way of saying “go on,” farleigh clears his throat, clasping his hands together in his lap. “i’m sorry.” he sounds hesitant when he says it, like he’s being forced to apologize.
you blink, staying silent as he stares up at you with bambi eyes. “and?” you press. farleigh sighs, dropping his eyes to the floor instead. “i was just upset, i didn’t mean anything i said. i love you, you know that.” he says with a whiny tone. you’ve been through this same scenario multiple times, he fucks you over, comes back to apologize and beg for you back, then you have make up sex. every time this happens, you forgive him easily, letting him fuck your brains out to forget everything he had said to you prior. you didn’t want to give in again, but the way he was looking up at you with his dreamy brown eyes, his highlighted curls framing his face perfectly, even his cologne was driving you crazy.
you missed him, you missed his voice, his explicit compliments, especially his touch. “i miss you, baby.” he whimpers. you cock your head to the side, trying to hide your excitement. “really?” you ask with dilated eyes as you slowly step over to him. farleigh nods, a small smirk forming on his lips. “please, baby—please don’t make me sit here and beg.” he groans. he looks at you up and down before reaching for your hand. he intertwines his fingers into yours, a perfect fit. farleigh nuzzles his cheek against the soft flesh of your skin, then he kisses your knuckles, a predator like glint flashing in his eyes. he pulls you onto the bed with him, placing you in his lap as he leaves a trail of delicate kisses down your neck.
“let me make it up to you.” he whispers. you moan softly, looking up at him. you lean your head against his shoulder as his hands roam up your back, then under your shirt. “forgive me, okay?” he mutters in your ear. you feel his hands stopping midway to your bra, and you whine softly in response. you lock eyes with him, nodding eagerly. he gives you a faint smile before he continues to unclasp your bra with a swift move. you knew that he’d fuck up again soon, and you knew you would run back to him again—but if it meant incredible sex, you didn’t mind.
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© please do not publish my work on other sites.
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dutifullylazybread · 2 days
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just found you, i see a lot of pre and post family with the teefs. what about during? and directly after? how do they care for their partner during pregnancy? especially if its a diffcult one? and afterward when their partners body has changed and maybe they're less confident about the extra weight, softer body, the extra rolls and teh stretch marks that wont go away? how does each bachelor help or make it better ir suddenly realize that is even wrong to begin with? what if they accidentally something bring out that newly found weakness in their partners confidence? ( sorry if youre busy i know you got stuff to do- i just figured youre the person who could slam dunk these thoughts i had)
Have I... GOTTEN TO THE POINT WHERE I CAN JOIN THE TIEFLING HEAD CANON SQUAD???????
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ADDED 4/26/24: This might be a rough list, but I hope you all enjoy!! ❤️
OKAY. I GOTTA ADD CAL. I'M ADDING CAL. THIS SWEET MAN IS A TIEFLING BACHELOR AND DOES NOT HAVE ENOUGH FAN CONTENT... YET.
And thank you for bearing with me--I know that this ask was sent in a hot minute ago! I'm hoping I answered all of your questions; I got to a point of this sitting in my drafts where I just felt bad about how long it had been there, so I tried to be thorough but I wanted to get this out sooner rather than later. I mostly worked on this when I had a few spare moments between chapters, and then I said "screw it. This is getting done. TODAY."
So, for Cal, Rolan, Zevlor, and Dammon--let's go!
DISCLAIMER - I do not have children myself, nor have I ever been pregnant. So I shall do my best!
JUST IN CASE - A CONTENT WARNING: While writing these head canons, I did refer to the tiefling's partner as "you." If reading about being pregnant makes you uncomfortable for any reason, please be aware and be kind to yourself. I have zero doubt in my mind that I will be creating another head canon list, so if you need to pass or wait on this one, that's absolutely okay. Your mental health is important.
Cal
While Cal's partner is pregnant, he will do absolutely anything and everything to make sure they are comfortable. To say that he is doting is putting things very mildly.
He will make your favorite meals, will go out and get whatever you are craving (late night runs--not a problem), will rub your swollen ankles.
Too hot? He's asking Rolan for a cantrip scroll to fix it. Too cold? He's already piling you with blankets.
Are you feeling sick and nauseous? He's already prepping something for you to eat/drink that doesn't have an offensive smell.
And if it's a hard pregnancy? I don't see him leaving your side. If he does, he has Rolan create a sending stone set for the two of you so that you can reach out to him for anything and everything.
Honestly, he doesn't get far enough for him to even use the sending stones. He is looking for anything and everything to make the pregnancy easier on you. If he wasn't a light sleeper before, he is now because he doesn't want you to lay there in pain.
There may be points where he feels helpless because while he can do things to try and alleviate any physical discomfort, there are just times when he might just grasp at straws.
And, in situations where he can't alleviate your physical discomfort, he will do what he can to distract you.
He keeps his stress managed well enough, but that doesn't mean he won't snap at Lia or Rolan if he is too anxious. If he does get openly frustrated with them, it takes both off guard.
I also think he just holds you. A lot. Part of that is to comfort you, and the other part is to assure himself that everything will be okay.
If his partner is dealing with body image issues after giving birth, I see him being confused. You? The most enchanting person he has ever known?
Cut to him kissing you and holding you whenever possible. He'll ask Lia and Rolan to watch the baby whilst the two of you go on outings when your health permits. If it helps you to hear it, he'll remind you how lovely you are. Frequently. Hourly. Every five minutes? Not quite, but close enough.
Personally, I don't think his doting goes away after the pregnancy. And, if it is too much, it might make you feel like he views you as helpless.
If you give voice to this, he goes into immediate mediation mode. He will be extremely apologetic. He loves you and never wants you to think he perceives you as anything other than the phenomenal person you are.
Rolan
Ugh. My beloved.
He might be more stressed about having a child than you are.
He never anticipated being a father, and that might be for 15+ reasons, but he feels drastically unprepared (even if the pregnancy was planned).
He reads every. Single. Book. On pregnancy. He is the parent who gives himself nightmares when he reads about birthing complications.
Every sign of discomfort that you show is a catastrophe on the horizon.
And if it's a difficult pregnancy? Yeah. Dial that up by five notches.
He is preparing for all worst-case scenarios.
If it weren't for Cal and Lia keeping him in check, he would be safety-proofing everything in the tower.
He crafts sending stones so you can call for him if you need anything. ANYTHING.
But also, he starts shadowing midwives and asking lots of questions. If the worst were to happen and you couldn't reach a professional, he wants to be there to help you.
After giving birth, I see him splitting his anxiety between your health/recovery and the baby's overall well-being.
"The baby sneezed. That might indicate five different lethal illnesses. I'm fetching the cleric."
This is another situation where you, Cal, and Lia might have to remind him that, yes, babies do sometimes sneeze, and not everything that lands in the diaper spells doom.
Rolan might not initially understand why you're feeling self-conscious about any weight gain. Of course you're lovely. Also, isn't that what happens with pregnancies? (His words--not mine).
He assures you that you're lovely, but words might not be enough here. He might shove his foot in his mouth while trying to make the situation better.
But the best thing for him to do is remind you, repeatedly, that you are lovely. And that might not have been something he was accustomed to even saying to you prior to you conceiving. He would assume you knew that he was attracted to you.
It honestly might be the strangest (and most endearing) thing to have him say "You look very lovely today. Yes, even with the baby's spit up on your shirt."
Zevlor
*nervously staring at the tiefling I am the most unsure about writing.*
*cracks my knuckles and cries because it hurt like hell*
Zevlor has been through some of the most heinous things that can be thrown at someone. He is a seasoned soldier. A Hellrider. Surely he can help his partner through pregnancy. After all, there were plenty of soldiers in the barracks who has pregnant spouses. He's heard enough stories that he feels prepared.
He survived the Elturel's Descent. It's possible that he helped safeguard someone who was in the middle of giving birth or guided expecting parents to safety. Maybe he had to fight off the devil's skulking the streets if they caught wind/heard that person enduring birthing pains?
So maybe, he thinks, he has already seen some of the worst births ever. Maybe, he thinks, in this time of relative peace, in this home that he and his love have created, it'll be easier?
My personal headcanon for Zevlor is that he put EVERYTHING into being a Hellrider/paladin. It was his life. It was his every breathing moment. And when he became an oathbreaker, it destroyed him. His life was devoted to protecting others, and he feels that he failed in the worst of ways possible.
He certainly had friends and very possibly family that he would see on occasion, but I think that, if you didn't fight alongside him/live in the barracks too, you very likely didn't see much of him.
So maybe he has heard a great deal about pregnancies. And maybe he knows about the complicated ones--just a bit. But he himself is at a loss for when his partner tells him that they are pregnant.
Is he excited? Absolutely. Is he terrified. Oh yeah.
Regardless of how complicated the pregnancy is, he is nervous. He is worried that he will slip up in all the ways that matter, and he is terrified of letting you down.
He's a soldier though, and he prepares for everything.
He has additional blankets and pillows next to the bed.
Hot and cold compresses are ready to go.
He makes sure that he accounts for your cravings whenever shopping.
He has medicine for when the pain is severe. And when the medicine doesn't cut it, he tries his best to distract you--his mileage varies.
And this man adores you. So after the pregnancy, if you are feeling self-conscious, he will worship your body.
Dammon
I could see Cal and Dammon both being very doting, but Dammon would be juggling the forge and helping you.
If you spent a lot of time in the forge with him prior to pregnancy but find that being in there now makes you feel ill, he will absolutely feel lonelier. He is definitely the sort of person who gets very absorbed in his work, and I think this makes him feel guilty. Especially if he feels like him being there could have made things easier for you.
He becomes a meal prep king. Will cook several comfort meals for you to eat while he is working.
Massages swollen ankles and feet and anything else.
While he might have worked later hours in the forge before, he makes a point to wrap things up sooner to spend evenings with you.
That doesn't mean he isn't nervous--you're about to have a child, and he does worry if there will be enough money.
He worries that if he does slow down, commissions will dry up, and then where will that leave the three of you?
If the pregnancy is difficult, he feels guilty for leaving you alone and looks for hundreds of ways to make things easier.
Eventually, he creates a small sitting space for you near the doorway to the shop itself. It's not so close to the forge that you'll be uncomfortably hot or so close that the smell will make you sick, and he sets up a small tarp to create some shade.
If you helped Dammon in the forge before the pregnancy, he is likely hesitant to have you come back and immediately help. Especially if the birth was difficult.
But what you need, more than anything from him, is time
And Dammon wants to be a parent who is present in your life and the baby's, so he does everything to be there.
But money is still a stressor. And he might worry about you being in the forge again. So he's stressed on all fronts.
And while I don't see him commenting or changing how he treats his partner because of weight change, I do see him being VERY reluctant to have you work in the forge with him.
And this may lead to an argument. You know he is stressed about commissions and being there for you and the baby, but you still want to help.
So Dammon dials it back several notches and agrees that you know your body best. So long as you feel comfortable working in the forge, and so long as you listen to your body, the two of you can start it from there.
And it gets easier to balance the forge and child rearing. While the baby isn't allowed close to the open heat/flame until they fully understand why they must be careful (and until their lungs are developed), you and Dammon create a small swing/play area nearby.
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littlespacecadets · 8 months
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🌟 Pacifiers 101 🌟
✨ Whether you call it a pacifier, soother, dummy, paci, or any other name, many cadets aboard the little space station enjoy them! Here's the rundown of things you should know about them before you buy one! ✨
🌠 An adult sized pacifier is the safe and best choice. 🌠
While baby pacifiers are more easily accessible, they aren't meant for people with bigger mouths/teeth. Baby pacis are too short and are only able to reach just past your teeth. Pacifiers are supposed to end up at the roof of your mouth, which is why different sizes exist in the first place. If a paci is too short/small, then there are two outcomes:
Instead of your tongue keeping your paci from slipping out, you would bite down on it to keep it in place. Clenching your jaw shut for too long can cause aches and pain in both your jawline and your teeth.
If you attempt to suck your baby paci, your tongue will push itself against your front teeth repeatedly. This repeated force from your tongue is strong enough to push your teeth forward, which, if done excessively and over a long enough time frame, can lead to either an overbite or underbite. Long before that happens however, your front teeth will ache.
Adult pacifiers should not cause these problems. There are only a very few exceptions where they would not help, and I'll list them:
You have barely lost your front teeth. Teeth and genetics are weird, and while the majority of people will have lost their front teeth when they were 6 or 7, some people lose their baby teeth later than that. Some individuals even get an entire second set of adult teeth! If any of these situations apply to you, then using any pacifier (but especially a too small one) after your new teeth have grown in is an unwise idea. There are gaps in the bone underneath your gumline, which means your teeth are especially sensitive to any type of pressure and are highly susceptible to shifting out of alignment. It typically takes a year for the bone underneath to solidify, in which case you should wait to use a paci until then.
You have braces/have barely gotten your braces removed. Similar to the circumstances above, if your teeth have recently been purposefully shifted into alignment, using a pacifier can cause aches and movement in your teeth. This can be prevented with the very important tool your dentist gave you: a retainer! Adult pacifiers fit perfectly behind your retainers, which will prevent any movement and/or pressure on your teeth. I would recommend not using your pacifier without a retainer until: you are instructed to stop using a retainer altogether or a year after you are instructed to use your retainer only while you're sleeping. These times are greater than if you had new teeth because the older you are, the longer your body takes to grow - this includes bone. The older you have dental work done, the longer it'll take for this bone to fully fill the space your teeth have vacated; if your dentist has instructed you to use your retainer for the rest of your life, I do not recommend using a pacifier for long periods of time without a retainer in place, as you have an increased risk of developing an overbite.
Your mouth is too small. The question is in which way your mouth too small? For example, if your teeth are too big for your mouth (and you may have even had some of them removed to make space/have straight teeth) then chances are that you would have to use an adult paci. However, if your teeth are short and otherwise child-sized, then you may instead find that the largest baby paci (36 months) will suit you fine and cause no pain. In this very specific circumstance, a baby pacifier may suit your needs better, as, to reiterate, as long as the paci ends at the roof of your mouth then you shouldn't have any problems.
🌠 The Care and Cleaning of Your Pacifier 🌠
All pacifiers should be properly cleaned and sanitized when you first get one. Afterwards, they should be routinely cleaned to prevent bacteria and germs from growing and entering your mouth, even if they don't seem dirty.
Wash it with warm water and dish soap. Take a clean cloth or towel, damp it with warm water, add a squirt of dish soap, and carefully clean the nipple and the back of the shield. Other soaps may not be food safe - as in, suitable for something you're going to be putting in your mouth - so it's best to be careful.
Use pacifier wipes. In stores, there exist specific wipes to clean pacifiers with! Some are vaguely flavored, so even if you might pop your paci in right after cleaning, it won't leave a chemical taste in your mouth.
In the event that your pacifier needs to be completely sanitized (such as dropped on the ground or other unsanitary place or if used during an illness) your options are:
If you have an undecorated pacifier, as in one without any added embellishments, then you can bring some water to a boil, disassemble and toss the paci in there, stir it around for 2-5 minutes, remove it, and allow it to cool completely before putting it back together and placing it in your mouth.
If you have a decorated pacifer, check with the seller to see if there are any specific cleaning instructions.
After using your pacifier, make sure it is dry before putting it in storage to prevent the development of germs and bacteria - if possible, cleaning it after usage is recommended for long term storage.
Storage can be any container or location that is clean and dry: an old lunch box, a new pencil case/box/bag, a new make-up bag, a tin container, a tupperware container, a mason jar, a Halloween pail, an Easter basket, a Valentine's Day box/tin/mailbox, and even a drawer are all examples of what you can use. If your pacifier storage can be easily cleaned, then feel free to use it!
🌠 Pacifier Usage 🌠
While using your pacifier, it's best to avoid the practices that can lead to aches and pain, as previously mentioned.
Your tongue should not be touching or pushing against your front teeth at any point in the process, as this is what commonly leads to teeth aches and teeth shifting out of alignment. On top of this, you run the risk of becoming comfortable resting your tongue against your teeth even when you aren't using your pacifier, which can also lead to your teeth shifting out of alignment.
Instead, your tongue should be resting along the bulb of the nipple, which should be right below your hard or soft pallet. Suckling may push the bulb towards the back of the mouth (or, your tongue moves along the stem of the nipple), but as long as your tongue doesn't brace the nipple against any teeth, you shouldn't experience any discomfort.
You may be tempted to bite down on your pacifier to keep it in your mouth, but as long as it's properly sized, that's not necessary. In fact, biting down on it can strain your jaw, similar to how teeth grinding can do the same. If you find yourself doing this often, with the jaw pain to go along with it, you may find it better to buy a mouth guard - some models even have a pacifier-like exterior, and you can view them as a more teether-like alternative.
When using your pacifier for long periods of time, you may begin to notice discoloration alongside the corners/edges of your mouth. This is common for people who use pacifiers, people who have retainers, or people who produce more saliva/drool more than average.
Don't fret! Lip balms that promise "lip repair", "intense therapy", and "skin protecting" can be used at the corners of your mouth to soothe any irritation and prevent future discoloration from occurring again. If these are unavailable, petroleum jelly may help.
✨ Class dismissed - now go ahead and get the pacifier of your dreams, cadet!✨
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stardestroyer81 · 1 year
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Mega Man 10 features a triad of playable characters— Mega Man, Proto Man, and Bass. Unlike the former two, Mega Man 10 was Bass's first 8-Bit outing (Not counting his very minor cameo in Mega Man 9), and his faux NES sprite is... off. It's not a bad sprite by any means, but his color palette and posture being much too close to Rock's never quite sat right with me.
But what would Bass look like in my spriting style? Well... here's your answer! ✨
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abysskeeper · 5 months
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Quest Updated: The Nightrose
Fiona Silverwind (Azali Vareth) // Folk Hero // College of Valor Bard
Born the half-drow daughter to a Lolth-Sworn turncoat sorcerer of a father and a high half-elf bard of a mother, Fi had a more unusual upbringing than most. Up until the age of 12, she visited her mother semi-regularly, but spent most of her life with her father, Tarez Vareth, in the Underdark as he worked with a group of Seldarine drow to help other drow escape their lives among their Lolth-Sworn counterparts. In part, this was because Tarez wanted his daughter to grow up understanding her drow heritage, and in part this was because Fi showed a propensity towards magic at a young age. However, while the Seldarine drow were always kind to her (and far kinder than any treatment she would have received in Menzoberranzan), Fi was always distinctly aware of the barriers between her and the drow around her due to her half-blood heritage, and longed for the freedom of traveling with her mother and her well-regarded entertainment troupe on the surface.
After finally convincing her father she understood and respected her drow heritage, but did not belong in the Underdark, Fi started traveling with her mother, Lady Rose Silverwind, and the troupe. Fiona, then going by Azali still to honor her father, was quick to learn two things on the surface. For one, her complexion was...less than ideal when dealing with the day to day of the surface world, and for two, she had a strong inclination towards music as well as magic. She immediately followed in her mother's footsteps as a bard, and joined the troupe officially as a violinist and singer on her mother's one condition that she disguised herself and her half-drow heritage**. She knew her mother was not malicious with her intent and instead an incredibly worried mother, so Fi agreed and began performing with the troupe far and wide for anyone and everyone along the Sword Coast.
As time wore on and she grew older, Fiona eventually started wanting to strike out on her own (as herself) and honor the stories she came to know and love. Though convinced someone of her complexion could never be the hero of those stories (Drizzt was a once in a century sorta deal after all), she instead wanted to become the person to be there and catalogue the heroes' deeds so that their stories could continue being told and bringing inspiration for years to come. The idea of the Nightrose was a complete accident, born of her inability to stand idly by while injustice was happening and her need to help. After one, disastrous attempt to do so without any alterations to her appearance, she got the idea to start changing her appearance like her mother taught her and enact her vigilante justice in that manner. And thus, the Nightrose was born, and she donned a different appearance every single time, so no one else is sure who the Nightrose really is, or if she is even just one girl.
And so by day, Fiona travels as the young, half-drow bard, always willing to offer a story or a song to anyone who asks, and by night she works as the Nightrose wherever she's needed. It was all working wonderfully until a certain Nautiloid appeared and she got an additional little traveler in her eye along with the rest of them.
**Additional:
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How Fiona looks vs how she disguises herself, usually as a high half-elf who bares a striking resemblance to her mother. She's often considered hiding her eye color in her true half-drow appearance, since she knows the pinkish red eye she inherited from her father unsettles a lot of people, but can't bring herself to do it. Instead, she styles her hair and uses her clothes (her hat, primarily) to conceal it.
What her true, real name is (Azali Fiona Vareth or Fiona Azali Silverwind) depends on which parent you ask, or at what point in time you ask her. She kept the name Azali as a kid even when she went to the surface in order to honor her father, but she listed her family name as 'Silverwind' once traveling with her mother. When her father died, she felt like she no longer had any ties to the Underdark and took on the name Fiona, which is what her mother wanted to call her. Fiona Silverwind is what she's considered her full name most of her adult life, though of late she has been toying with the idea of reclaiming her father's family name and going by Fiona Vareth.
The scar on her cheek came from her first couple of months on the surface. She was out running an errand for her mother alone one day in Baldur's Gate and a couple of young boys were harassing her for her general appearance. They got annoyed at her ignoring them so one of them picked up a rock and threw it at her, hitting her in the jaw and leaving a nasty cut. It was this incident that convinced her mother she needed to be magically disguised, and admittedly, the incident that made Fi stop arguing against the idea.
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guideaus · 1 year
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i keep seeing ppl online argue about knives vs vash and it made me think tristamp just did not do a good job if fans are doing that, but then i was like did tristamp even get any themes from the series across correctly...
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b0n3m33l · 2 years
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Just finished the first 2006 Death Note live action movie and like tbh kinda thought it was kinda mid
I did get hype when L showed up tho so here’s the image i made when yelling at my irls about it
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reasonsforhope · 5 months
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No paywall version here.
"Two and a half years ago, when I was asked to help write the most authoritative report on climate change in the United States, I hesitated...
In the end, I said yes, but reluctantly. Frankly, I was sick of admonishing people about how bad things could get. Scientists have raised the alarm over and over again, and still the temperature rises. Extreme events like heat waves, floods and droughts are becoming more severe and frequent, exactly as we predicted they would. We were proved right. It didn’t seem to matter.
Our report, which was released on Tuesday, contains more dire warnings. There are plenty of new reasons for despair. Thanks to recent scientific advances, we can now link climate change to specific extreme weather disasters, and we have a better understanding of how the feedback loops in the climate system can make warming even worse. We can also now more confidently forecast catastrophic outcomes if global emissions continue on their current trajectory.
But to me, the most surprising new finding in the Fifth National Climate Assessment is this: There has been genuine progress, too.
I’m used to mind-boggling numbers, and there are many of them in this report. Human beings have put about 1.6 trillion tons of carbon in the atmosphere since the Industrial Revolution — more than the weight of every living thing on Earth combined. But as we wrote the report, I learned other, even more mind-boggling numbers. In the last decade, the cost of wind energy has declined by 70 percent and solar has declined 90 percent. Renewables now make up 80 percent of new electricity generation capacity. Our country’s greenhouse gas emissions are falling, even as our G.D.P. and population grow.
In the report, we were tasked with projecting future climate change. We showed what the United States would look like if the world warms by 2 degrees Celsius. It wasn’t a pretty picture: more heat waves, more uncomfortably hot nights, more downpours, more droughts. If greenhouse emissions continue to rise, we could reach that point in the next couple of decades. If they fall a little, maybe we can stave it off until the middle of the century. But our findings also offered a glimmer of hope: If emissions fall dramatically, as the report suggested they could, we may never reach 2 degrees Celsius at all.
For the first time in my career, I felt something strange: optimism.
And that simple realization was enough to convince me that releasing yet another climate report was worthwhile.
Something has changed in the United States, and not just the climate. State, local and tribal governments all around the country have begun to take action. Some politicians now actually campaign on climate change, instead of ignoring or lying about it. Congress passed federal climate legislation — something I’d long regarded as impossible — in 2022 as we turned in the first draft.
[Note: She's talking about the Inflation Reduction Act and the Infrastructure Act, which despite the names were the two biggest climate packages passed in US history. And their passage in mid 2022 was a big turning point: that's when, for the first time in decades, a lot of scientists started looking at the numbers - esp the ones that would come from the IRA's funding - and said "Wait, holy shit, we have an actual chance."]
And while the report stresses the urgency of limiting warming to prevent terrible risks, it has a new message, too: We can do this. We now know how to make the dramatic emissions cuts we’d need to limit warming, and it’s very possible to do this in a way that’s sustainable, healthy and fair.
The conversation has moved on, and the role of scientists has changed. We’re not just warning of danger anymore. We’re showing the way to safety.
I was wrong about those previous reports: They did matter, after all. While climate scientists were warning the world of disaster, a small army of scientists, engineers, policymakers and others were getting to work. These first responders have helped move us toward our climate goals. Our warnings did their job.
To limit global warming, we need many more people to get on board... We need to reach those who haven’t yet been moved by our warnings. I’m not talking about the fossil fuel industry here; nor do I particularly care about winning over the small but noisy group of committed climate deniers. But I believe we can reach the many people whose eyes glaze over when they hear yet another dire warning or see another report like the one we just published.
The reason is that now, we have a better story to tell. The evidence is clear: Responding to climate change will not only create a better world for our children and grandchildren, but it will also make the world better for us right now.
Eliminating the sources of greenhouse gas emissions will make our air and water cleaner, our economy stronger and our quality of life better. It could save hundreds of thousands or even millions of lives across the country through air quality benefits alone. Using land more wisely can both limit climate change and protect biodiversity. Climate change most strongly affects communities that get a raw deal in our society: people with low incomes, people of color, children and the elderly. And climate action can be an opportunity to redress legacies of racism, neglect and injustice.
I could still tell you scary stories about a future ravaged by climate change, and they’d be true, at least on the trajectory we’re currently on. But it’s also true that we have a once-in-human-history chance not only to prevent the worst effects but also to make the world better right now. It would be a shame to squander this opportunity. So I don’t just want to talk about the problems anymore. I want to talk about the solutions. Consider this your last warning from me."
-via New York Times. Opinion essay by leading climate scientist Kate Marvel. November 18, 2023.
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chuluoyi · 4 months
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LOVER'S QUARREL
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- fushiguro megumi x reader
“i can't do this anymore.” you and megumi are just too different; he's stoic, you're bubbly, he prefers solitude, you love being social. it starts with fights, words you don't mean, and ends with an event that would haunt him for a long time to come.
genre: angst, breaking up, post-breakup feelings, mentions and description of injury and blood, hurt/comfort, fluff in the end (you make up!)
note: dear god i’m finally getting this out of my drafts. loosely inspired by real life events i’ve seen around my friend’s relationship sooo it might hurt a bit 🤏🏻 but who can say no to angst to eventual fluff? tagging @lees-chaotic-brain and @kasumitenbaz (as per request in the ask!), you two are always here for my megumi works, thank you!! :3 and thank you for dropping by for the event!
a part of 1K MILESTONE EVENT
series masterlist | oneshot masterlist
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Everyone pointed it out as a joke, that you liked him way more than he did you.
And you used to never let it ruffle you. To you, Megumi’s sternness and silence meant that he was comfortable with you. You never wanted him to change his ways just because now you were seeing each other.
But when you thought it over now, as you stood before him with an aghast expression and knives stabbing your kind, soft heart, you couldn’t help but do a double-take.
You were the one who confessed first. Most of the time, you were the one who initiated dates. You always texted him first, asking about his day, and even when he brushed you off, you would keep being this ball of sunshine and wished him a good day.
You never realized it before… that through everything, it has always been you. Unfailingly.
So how dare he spout this now?
“I can't do this anymore.”
"You... can't?" you spat out, feeling the first tendrils of anger course through you. "What exactly it is that you can't do? What do you even mean?"
"Look," Megumi stared at you squarely, and you thought now, that it was the coldest of eyes, straight and true. "It's always been like this between us lately. It's only right that we end this."
This, he said. He didn't even want to define your relationship anymore.
You scoffed. "And why do you think we always end up this way? Have you ever considered, even once, that it's because you make no effort at all?"
"I'm trying," Megumi quickly replied, almost in a hiss, and you almost recoiled. "But I just see that we'll end up nowhere, that's why I'm bringing this up now."
Oh, that freaking hurts. You boyfriend had just told you that this relationship would go nowhere. Right in your face.
Your eyes stung with tears, yet you fought to hold them back, fixing your gaze on the lamp overhead and inhaling deeply.
"You're... selfish," you stated, filled with ire. "You're always walking around eggshells around me, never telling me what is it that you really want—"
Megumi's unclouded eyes fixed on your trembling form. "We just disagree on a lot of things. You know it and it bothers you. It bothers me too. Rather than forcing our relationship, I think it's better—"
"It's always me!" you yelled then, lips quivering and eyes watering, unable to hold your emotions back any longer. "All dates, lunches—everything!" you locked your eyes with him, in mocking disbelief. "How can you say you're trying when, in truth, I'm the one putting in so much for us?!"
In that very second, Megumi thought that he hated seeing you like this. You were supposed to be the cheerful one in this relationship, and when he agreed to go out with you, he made an unspoken commitment to himself that he would at least not make you miserable.
And yet...
"...I'm sorry."
Came his reply, and you were sure that this was it.
And to rub the salt in your wound, he added, "I can't lie to you and say I haven't thought this for a while too."
As tears welled within you, you wondered and questioned what you lacked that led to this. However, the overwhelming sense of betrayal consuming your thoughts ultimately prevailed over any other emotions.
Now he could've appeared before you as a stranger and you wouldn't bat an eye, as the cold steel in his tone said, "And if blaming me is what it takes to make you feel better, then so be it."
You couldn't pinpoint the source of your sudden boldness, but in the next hot minute, you marched past him, your shoulder harshly colliding with his in a deliberate, almost spiteful manner—which, indeed, was your intention—and then you ran.
Which led to the next scene: you found yourself bawling your eyes out in the girls' lavatory.
Yuji and Nobara saw everything unfolding right before their eyes. They hadn't meant to eavesdrop, but you and Megumi were literally breaking up right the middle of their shared classroom, and it was hard not to follow the discourse until the end.
"Are you okay?" Nobara had come to your side, ensuring privacy by locking the restroom door out of your consideration. You were a sobbing mess, attempting to wipe the overflowing tears away while letting out all your emotions.
"He's..." Your voice faltered amid sobs as you gazed at your steadfast friend, your throat clogging up. "He said... he's been wanting t-to... break up with m-me..."
"That's okay, that's okay..." Nobara brought you to her arms, patting your back in reassurance. "Fushiguro is insensitive like that... don't cry over him now. He's just a wimp, okay?"
"Why is it me?" you asked her, voice brittle, still shaking with tears. "I t-tried everything! Being the supportive girlfriend..."
"If he can't appreciate what you did, then the problem lies with him," your friend stated, traces of irritation brewing in her resolute gaze. And as she firmly grasped your wrist, her next words resonated. "Not you."
. . .
"Do you really have to break her heart like that?" Yuji fidgeted with his hoodie, staring at his best friend with a blend of confusion and sympathy.
Megumi sighed, finally ruffling his hair into a mess, as if expressing his own state of mind. “This is for the best.”
Yuji’s eyebrows visibly creased. “How is this ‘for the best’? She’s miserable, and you…” he assessed him, scanning him from head to toe, “it doesn’t seem you’re faring any better too.”
“The longer she is with me, the unhappier she will be.” Megumi glanced at the bathroom’s direction. “She can deserve better.”
He was always too quiet, too boring, not able to match your energy too. He couldn’t fault you for expecting more, whereas he was just not exactly built for your expectations.
Megumi really thought he wanted it to end. At one point, it even felt like a chore, but…
How strange. Why did it feel like something was clawing at his chest?
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Time heals. Megumi knew that by theory, but he really did see it firsthand when he saw you all giggling and happy again three weeks after he initiated the breakup.
With Hakari.
“Yo, what are you glaring at?” Panda asked, but Megumi didn’t pay him any mind.
An upperclassman, Hakari Kinji, was naturally cool and talented. He was laid back, knew how to have fun—all in all, a total opposite of Fushiguro Megumi altogether.
Three weeks. It’s only been three weeks since then.
“Megumi?”
Wait… Aren’t three weeks too fast to get over your ex?
“Megumi!”
“Huh?” he turned to the sentient panda with a jerk. “Oh, what is it?”
He looked at him with a concerned gaze. "Why do you look so scary? It's almost as if you're about to punch someone..."
But who was he to argue? He had no right to be upset now.
"Is it Kinji?" Panda gasped, finally putting two and two together when he followed his line of sight. "Oh Megumi... but you—"
"Just shut up, please," he blurted then, a hint of annoyance in his tone. With that, Panda didn't pursue it further, leaving him with his thoughts.
From where he was at the field, he could clearly see your radiant smile for Hakari. It was clear that the two of you shared a degree of friendship, but Megumi never knew that you two were that close.
...huh?
Why did the sight irritate him so suddenly? Why did his chest twinge again?
What a fool. You're the one driving her away, you idiot.
Suddenly these memories popped up one by one—
Of you suddenly hugging him from behind in an attempt to surprise him.
How he pressed his lips on the crown of your head when you fall asleep on his shoulder.
How you would give him that dopey smile when he pulled you close.
But on harder days after missions gone wrong, he’d ignore you altogether— the slight disappointment in your smile then. How your expression fell when he told you to go. How you slumped and looked back in hopes of him changing his mind.
“Haaaah.” Megumi turned away, unwilling to keep watching you any longer. Why? Why hadn’t it occurred to him before now?
Why did he long for you now? Why not before, when you were still his?
They were right. It seems people tend to desire what isn't meant for them.
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What could have been more painfully awkward than being sent into a mission with your ex-boyfriend?
You would kill Gojo for this. Or at least give him the lowest possible score in his teaching evaluation for the year. How could he? Your breakup was an infamous public spectacle, so this setup was undoubtedly intentional!
You were losing your head over this, and yet your ex-boyfriend...
"Keep your guard up," Megumi reminded curtly, in a warning tone. He looked as vigilant and straight as always, as if he wasn't even bothered.
You threw him a dirty look, offended. "You don't have to tell me twice."
This just cranked up the discomfort to an excruciating level. The mix of unresolved tension and memories—okay, you might be an emo, but how were you supposed to be cool with all of these hanging in the air?
Your site of exorcism was an abandoned warehouse, and the cursed spirit in question was supposed to be a grade 3. You two were grade 2 sorcerers now, so you were a perfect fit to exorcise it. But there was indeed this unease in the air that you couldn't put your finger to.
"Isn't it awfully too quiet?" you unwittingly muttered, staring at the darkness of the wall. You couldn't feel any cursed energy belonging to any possible malevolent entity, and that was what unsettled you the most.
Megumi frowned at your line of sight. "It is. Stay close."
You blinked at what he said, and before you knew it, the familiar scent of him being near to you made your entire body burst with this equally familiar warmth. When you looked up to him, seeing the solid sharpness in that dark eyes of his and his jaw set, dead butterflies in your chest rose back to life again, against your heartbreak and better judgement.
Stay close, he said... So he is worried...
And in an attempt to hide how flustered you were, you looked down.
You walked a few good steps, when suddenly he asked, "So, are you with Hakari-senpai now?"
"Huh?" You spun around, your expression a mix of surprise and confusion.
"You two seem close."
Seem close? Seem close... wait, so Megumi had noticed...?
Suddenly, you felt incited and it made you angry. "That's none of your business," your voice carried a sharp edge, hissing. And you knew you were being a bit mean by adding, "You broke up with me, so why do you even care?"
In that moment, Megumi could've sworn his chest throbbed. Your cutting tone pierced directly into his heart, lodging itself there.
You had all rights to be annoyed, and he knew that. Why did that question even slip out of him?
"Nah, nevermind," he mumbled in response, looking away.
Awkwardness lingered afterwards. You hated this, but no, you weren't above being petty. He had broken your heart and it still stung even now. If your intentionally biting words did to him even a fraction of what he made you feel, then you would find a small sense of satisfaction in it.
But you weren't able to ponder about your mess of feelings further when Megumi abruptly yanked your arm, his voice soaking with urgency, "It's here!"
Sure enough, the grotesque cursed spirit with the shape of a giant bee broke through the walls with a bang. The two of you immediately readied your fighting stance. Megumi was ready with his divine dogs, while you with your cursed weapon.
For a while, you engaged the cursed spirit with all you had. You were trying to focus on the enemy, but you couldn't help but notice the way Megumi always looked at you every few seconds, checking for any signs of injury or harm.
Frankly speaking, he trusted your strength and knew that you were a capable sorcerer. You had been paired in a mission before and he knew both your potential and shortcomings. It was just there was something about this place that had his senses on high alert.
And his fears were proven true when you yelped and were flung onto the grimy floor. "Y/N!"
"I'm fine!" you shouted in a rush, scrambling to your feet. However, as you spun towards him, your scream tore through the hall as you caught sight of the bee lurking behind him. "Megumi!"
He got distracted. The bee quickly latched onto him and almost stung him, until he wrestled it off and summoned Nue and exorcised it.
You went to his side that instant. "Are you okay?!"
"I am." But then he winced and almost fell on his knees if you didn't have a secure grip on him. He savored your touch and breathed a sigh of relief, thinking that now you two were safe.
"Megumi! Oh god!" Panic surged through you as you pulled him close. His side was bleeding, and you widened your eyes at the sight.
"I'm okay, I promise," he rasped, looking you in the eyes. "What abo—"
Then you saw it, the flicker from deep from that corner of platform, and suddenly, you grasped the source of the unease that had been lingering within you all this time. It wasn't the bee Megumi had just exorcised—
At that moment, there was no room for thought, one thing was certain: you didn't want him to get hurt more.
He didn't manage to finish his sentence when suddenly you pushed him away with so much force he never thought you had. Everything crashed so suddenly, he didn't have the time to brace himself or grab you with him, as another cursed bee appeared out of nowhere and—
Reality flashed before his eyes as he stared at you in sheer horror. At how the cursed spirit tore your body, sinking its hollow stinger in you.
You didn't really know what happened next. Everything was muffled—the frantic movements around you turned into a blur, along with Megumi's yells. Otherworldly pain coursed through your entire being and your ears rang, then everything in your line of sight became distorted and faded, along with your consciousness. Next and the last thing you knew was Megumi's battered face, a final imprint before you succumbed to the void.
Megumi had exorcised the remaining cursed spirit and staggered to his feet—falling a few times, but he made his way towards you through gritted teeth. You are hurt. He forced himself to get to you and pull you into his arms.
And suddenly, suddenly, nothing mattered anymore as overwhelming terror consumed him upon seeing you. Blood streamed from your abdomen so much that it made a continuous pool.
"You stupid—!" He choked out, voice hitching. You were no longer conscious and it devastated him even more. "Hey, hey? Wake up—hells—"
You, who did everything you could to save your relationship. You, who cried tears for him when he blatantly broke your heart. And you, who put himself first—and now facing the consequences.
It crashed upon him in that very second, the clarity. What was he thinking back then? He still loves you.
"If you die on me, I won't forgive you."
Megumi scooped you in his arms, pressing you close to his chest, the blood seeping from his wound be damned as he looked at your serene face. His heart shattered in the worst way possible and he almost wheezed at the sticky sensation of your blood—and how lifeless you felt in his grasp—but he willed it away.
"Don't," his broken rasp echoed the walls as he took each step to get both of you out of this hellhole. He winced and hissed at his own injury, chewing his lip in frustration, at how helpless he was.
"Don't leave me."
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It was like a distant, hazy memory.
Was it a memory though? No. It seemed far too real for that.
The throbbing headache pounding through your skull and shivers that wracked your body pulled you back to reality. There was a heavy pressure on your abdomen and any movement sent sharp pain shooting through you.
You gradually opened your eyes, squinting against the brightness. You were in a hospital gown, an IV was injected on your arm, and the sterile scent made your stomach twist, as nausea creeping through your guts. Your vision was still blurry as you tried to look around to find someone who waited for you. As you slowly turned your head to the side, you saw him, sitting in the chair right next your bed.
Megumi was sleeping in such uncomfortable position, his head resting on the edge of your bed. He appeared peaceful, almost childlike, devoid of his usual stoic demeanor.
Your heartstrings were tugged at this rare sight. He also sustained injuries and yet... he was waiting for you to wake up, here.
Your chest swelled with warmth, which was quickly followed by a sting of heartbreak. Still, you two broke up...
You jolted, and the inadvertent movement sent a wave of pain that seemed to paralyze your nerves, causing you to whimper. The noise woke Megumi from his slumber, as he shot his eyes open in alarm, catching your hand in his.
"Hey... Are you okay?" Megumi worriedly looked down at you with a visible frown, and the grimace of pain on your face, accompanied by trembling lips, was enough of an answer. He hastily scrambled out in slight panic, "I'll get Ieiri-san."
When Shoko came and got you the painkillers, your pain receded somewhat. Through it all, Megumi stood there, casting concerned glances in your way.
"Bedrest for the week," Shoko stated firmly, assessing your wound with a no-nonsense expression. "Your injury isn't minor—it's serious enough that you're strongly advised against excessive movement."
You could only nod in response. Megumi bowed. "Thank you, Ieiri-san." Once the doctor departed, silence settled over the room once more.
“Why did you do that?” he quietly asked then, referring to what you did for him. And when you turned to him, you saw it clearly.
He looked pale, and there was this haunted look in his eyes. It broke your heart a little.
"You were hurt." Your voice came out dry, and you realized firsthand just how parched you were. Seeing Megumi looking down never quite sat right with you. He was meant to be an unwavering presence, someone strong enough to sway your convictions.
However, a pang struck when he countered with stern eyes, "You didn't have to do that."
...he was right. You didn't have to. What he didn't know was that you were still holding on these stupid feelings, which drove you to shield him. It made you ponder: if your roles were reversed, would he not step in to protect you at all?
"Why are you here?" You weren't sure if the bitterness in your tone was evident, but you continued anyway. "You don't have to be here either."
"Don't have to?" His gaze bore disbelief, as if not believing your words. "I'm—"
"If it's because I saved you, Megumi—"
“Do not even think, even for a moment, that I won’t be concerned over you.” His voice, deep and hoarse, struck you to the core, silencing your words. “Never. I always, always want you to be safe.”
Your mind became a blank slate. Suddenly, all that mattered was his voice.
"Don't you realize how terrifying it was? Seeing you like that?" Megumi spat, his green eyes shining with intensity, teeth gritted and fists clenched. "How could you even think that I wouldn't be here—" his breath hitched, and then his lips trembled slightly, "—for you?"
You blinked quickly, a feeling stirred within you—stemming from that cursed, fragile heart of yours to be exact, evident from the rapid thumping in your chest.
You dumbly uttered, "But we are—"
"Oh, Goddamnit." Megumi cursed, and honestly you were taken aback. It wasn't really in him to swear, so this really bugged him. He ran a hand through his hair in frustration, and despite the situation, your heart skipped a beat at the sight. Even a mess in a hospital gown, your ex-boyfriend was still undeniably attractive.
He stared at you squarely in the eye, unflinching, steadfast and true, the very image of Fushiguro Megumi you admired from afar and fell in love with in the first place half a year ago. "You don't have to... say anything, if you don't want to. Right now... just hear me out."
And the things he said next... all of them, you could say, caught you entirely off guard.
"I'm sorry. I'm sorry for not trying hard enough, and—damn it, for making you sad. I never, ever wanted to see you that upset."
Megumi drew in a sharp breath, averting his gaze. "And for days, I've wondered if you and Hakari-senpai are now a thing... and you know what? I hate it so much. I know I have no grounds to feel this way, after what I did, but..."
And like a train wreck, his final words hit you hard. Tears welled up in your eyes in immediate response.
“I'm a loser, and a coward too, maybe,” he shrugged, a tinge of self-deprecation in his tone. “And I suck at telling people my feelings, but I love you. I still do.”
A sob slipped out of your throat and you hastily pulled the blanket over your face, much to his surprise. He thought he had worsened things, with the way you were turning away from him.
But then, from beneath the blanket, in a croaky voice, you proclaimed, "Fushiguro Megumi, you're a complete and utter idiot."
And Megumi didn't know that he had been holding back his breath as he chuckled heartily, relieved that you would still take his ass back after this prolonged mess. He knew he still had a lot to make up for and was determined to show it through his actions.
"Maybe I am, yeah."
"That's possibly the longest shit you have ever spouted in one breath."
"Yeah..."
But he got his chance back, and he knew that you would be alright. Both of you are.
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On one sunny day...
"Hey, are you alone?"
Megumi glanced up from his phone, only to be met with a random girl standing in front of him, batting her eyelashes with an ambiguous intent. He blinked at her curiously.
"No. Can I help you?"
The girl twirled her hair suggestively. "Ah, you see... I see you all in your lonesome and I think you're quite cute—"
The hell? Megumi frowned, and he was really about to give this bimbo a piece of his mind when—
Oh, oh. Forget that. Megumi's attention snapped to you on the opposite side of the crossroad. All pretty and dolled up with that crop tee and miniskirt he once mentioned would look great on you by a slip of tongue—that accidental comment earned him your teasing quips for weeks already.
"Sorry, I'm here for my girlfriend. Bye."
Abruptly dismissing the girl, he didn't catch how comically offended she was for being turned down in a span of 20 seconds. He took big strides towards you, as you crossed the street, and you immediately beamed when you caught the sight of his face.
"Megumi!"
Ah, this is going to be a good day, he thought. As he gazed at your pretty face, and caught your hand in his, clasping it tightly, reveling in your scent and the warmth of your presence beside him—
He was content, and once again it dawned on him, that he likes you so, so damn much.
"Let's get started on our date, shall we?"
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incognit0slut · 1 month
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The breaking point
Part 2 of Beyond the Limit (can also be read as a standalone)
Spencer realizes that being dominant doesn’t always require him to be rough, especially when he has complete control over your body.
warnings: (18+, MDNI) soft dom spence because there’s a lot of praising in this one, reader in lingerie, orgasm control or edging, overstimulation, reader gets cockdrunk (idk how to explain it better), a little cockwarming at the end
Words: 4,3k
a/n: this has been in my drafts for a while and i finally finished it, i don’t usually do a part two for my oneshots but…i’m actually tempted to do more
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You were a tease—a goddamn tease. Spencer knew he needed to work on his self-control, but it was hard to keep his composure when you had the ability to stir desire within him. It was perplexing, given that there was a time when thoughts of anything remotely sexual never even crossed his mind.
For the majority of his life, intimacy had been a foreign concept. While he occasionally felt a pang of jealousy witnessing everyone around him find love, he managed just fine without it.  He suspected it was partly a defense mechanism, channeling his focus toward other aspects of his life—such as his mother's health, for example—to avoid dwelling on what he lacked.
But then all his beliefs shattered when you came crashing into his life. Suddenly, everything he thought he knew about himself was thrown away. Your presence sparked a fire within him that he never knew existed and he found himself craving the intimacy he had once dismissed as unnecessary.
He wasn't even aware of how touch-starved he was until he met you, and now it was hard to maintain that last thread of self-control he possessed. It wasn't that he didn't want to give in, but rather, he feared the intensity of his own desires, afraid that he might enjoy it more than he anticipated.
Because did he have to be rough with you for him to be satisfied, now that he had once known how it felt like? But how could he indulge in such temptation when you looked so utterly beautiful right now, so delicate, so precious in his eyes?
How could he even fathom ruining your perfection with roughness?
"Spence?" You nervously asked, suddenly feeling self-conscious. Your confidence was starting to dissipate as his eyes slowly traveled down your body, taking in the lingerie you chose to surprise him. Although this was not the reaction you were hoping for. "Do you not... like it?"
Spencer's gaze lingered on you, his expression was unreadable for a moment before a warm smile tugged at the corners of his lips.
"No, no, it's not that," he reassured you, putting down the book he had been reading on the bedside table before you walked into your shared bedroom. He reached his hand out, motioning you to come closer. "It's just... you caught me off guard, that's all."
You approached him cautiously and as you stepped closer, you noticed the tension in his shoulders easing, replaced by a soft warmth in his eyes. His hand found its place on your waist, drawing you closer and you instinctively fell on his lap, your knees dipping onto the bed on each side of his thighs.
Feeling his arousal right between your legs, you couldn't suppress the soft gasp that escaped your lips. "So you do like it," you murmured, a hint of satisfaction lacing your words.
"Like it? Sweetheart, that's an understatement," he replied. His calloused palms traveled along your sides as he took in the way the lace material hugged your curves.
The lilac-colored lingerie set on your body accentuated your figure perfectly. Both pieces were see-through, granting him a glimpse of your chest and lower region. The delicate edges of the top were adorned with more of the soft fabric, cascading over your stomach and back in a gentle, stunningly pretty way.
"You're so beautiful," Spencer whispered as he traced the intricate patterns of the fabric with his fingertips. "Absolutely breathtaking."
His touch sent shivers down your spine. You leaned into him, relishing the warmth and tenderness of his touch as one of his hands moved up your arm before resting behind your neck, pulling you closer to him.
His lips touched yours gently, sending a thrill coursing through your body. He nipped at your bottom lip, his touch both teasing and tender and as he sucked on it softly, a low moan escaped you. He then deepened the kiss, his tongue gently pushing into your mouth, and you kissed him back eagerly, your lips moving in perfect sync with his.
When he finally pulled away, you were left breathless, but he didn't stop giving you attention. His mouth made its way down to your neck, his lips trailing soft kisses along your skin and you couldn't help but arch your back, offering yourself to him completely. He then sucked on the spot below your ear, his lips creating a deliciously pleasurable sensation that made you moan softly in response.
You could feel his smile against your skin as he continued to travel further down, his lips leaving a trail of heat along your neck and collarbone. At the same time, his fingers pulled down the strap of your lingerie top, the material gracefully falling down your body, revealing more of your skin.
"Beautiful," he whispered as if it was the first time he laid his eyes on you, even if the two of you lost count long ago. His name slipped from your lips the moment his wide palms were pressed to your breasts, kneading the soft flesh and your nipples hardened beneath his touch.
Your mouth hung open in a silent gasp, and your breathing quickened in response when his thumb traced over your sensitive peak, sending electric sparks of pleasure coursing through your body. Spencer watched the way your eyes widened with desire, his own filled with a hunger that mirrored yours. And when he leaned closer, wrapping his soft lips around it, you were instantly gone.
The sensation sent waves of pleasure coursing through you, eliciting the most sinful sound you weren't even aware of making. It was like music to his ears, fueling his desire to please you even more. He continued to suck on your skin, giving the same attention to each breasts, his movements growing more fervent with each passing moment.
When he felt your hips bucking against his, he let out a low, guttural groan of pleasure. He softly drew back your nipple, your supple skin following his pull before he released it with a soft pop. Your skin glistened from his saliva, and honestly, Spencer had never seen such a splendid sight before.
The way you were grinding against him over his cotton pants frantically sent a surge of desire coursing through his veins. He could feel the thin fabric of your sheer panties pressing between your cunt, and with each movement, he could see glimpses of soft, bare skin glistening under the light, driving him wild with longing.
A primal need surged within him, a need to devour you, to lose control and indulge in the raw intensity. He craved to run his rough hands along your body, to explore every inch of your skin and claim you as his own. But he couldn't—not when you were the one in control as you sought pleasure in the way your hips moved against his.
So instead, his hands found purchase on your hips, guiding you to move faster. "That's it, sweetheart," he encouraged, his voice thick with desire. "Keep going."
You obeyed, pressing your aching heat against his cock, rolling your hips rapidly as a whimper of his name escaped you. You felt yourself growing hot and needy, your arousal dripping through your panties to coat his flesh beneath you, soaking through fabrics.
"Look at how wet you are," he mused, his voice laced with desire as he observed your flushed state and the evidence of your arousal staining the fabric between you. "Does this feel good?"
Your only response was another desperate moan, your body consumed by the overwhelming pleasure of being with him. What started lazy and slow soon turned into sporadic thrusts as you tried to cling to any friction. Your breath came in short, shallow gasps, and your body quivered with a delicious ache. It was too much, but at the same time, it wasn't enough.
"I need to feel you," you breathed out quickly, and before he could register what was happening, your fingers were pulling down his pants frantically. Sensing your desperation, he was quick to push the fabric down as his cock sprung free.
You bit down on your bottom lip as you lift your hips above him, taking him by the base with one of your hands while the other pushed the material of your panties to the side. He groaned when you pressed the tip of his cock to your dripping entrance.
"Are you sure?" he asked, his concern evident in his voice. Spencer always made sure you were fully ready, either with his fingers or mouth—or even with your own fingers. But you were already wet enough, and you couldn't wait any longer to feel him inside you.
You nodded eagerly, the need for him overpowering any hesitation. "Please," you begged, your voice pleading and desperate. "I need you now."
Both of you watched in awe as his girth stretched your clenched walls, the sensation of being filled to the brim overwhelming your senses. It wasn't the first time this happened, but it felt like a new sensation each time, and you found yourself instinctively clenching around him, eager to feel him even deeper inside you.
"Fuck," you whimpered, allowing yourself a moment to adjust to his size. His grip on your hips tightened, his fingers digging into your flesh as you squeezed yourself around him. With a slow, deliberate motion, you lifted your hips, feeling him ease out of you, only to lower yourself onto him again.
The sensation of him sliding back inside you made you gasp, a rush of pleasure washing over you as you took him deeper. His groan reverberated through your body, sending waves of ecstasy coursing through you. As his head fell back against the headboard, you couldn't help but whimper, the words tumbling from your lips without much thought.
"You fill me up so good," you confessed, your voice laced with desire as you rolled your hips against him. Your hands slipped under his shirt, feeling his soft stomach clench underneath your fingertips with every upstroke of your hips. "Take this off, baby."
With a low growl of approval, Spencer complied, swiftly removing his shirt and tossing it aside. Without hesitation, your hands trailed over his chest, reveling in the sensation of his smooth skin beneath your fingertips, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath your touch.
He watched you intently, captivated by the raw display of pleasure that painted your features. The way your face twisted in ecstasy, the way your mouth hung open in silent gasps, the way your breasts bounced with every movement—all of it drove him to the edge of his self-control.
As you quickened your pace, he felt his restraint slipping away, the urge to claim you completely becoming increasingly difficult to resist. Each time you clenched around him, it became harder for him to hold back. And as always, you could tell. You could feel the tension in his grip on your hips, the way his fingers dug into your flesh with a possessive urgency.
You slowed your hips, bringing your hand to his cheek, forcing him to look at you. "You're doing it again."
His gaze met yours, filled with a mixture of desire and frustration. He knew exactly what you were referring to. "I... I can't help it. You drive me crazy."
"I know that," you responded, stilling for a moment as you kept him buried deep inside you. "I just need you to do something about it."
He slowly shook his head. "I don't want to hurt you."
"You won't," you assured him, your voice filled with confidence as you leaned closer, bumping your nose against him seductively. "Come on, I know how much you want to be in control."
When he didn't respond, you pushed him even further, your lips tantalizingly close to his as you whispered your seductive taunt.
"I know you want more," you teased. "Don't you want to take control? Lie me on my back and fuck me until I can't think anymore? Until I beg you to stop while you use my body over and over again?"
"Don't tempt me," he choked out, his voice thick with longing and restraint.
But you weren't finished yet. "Yeah?" you challenged, your tone daring as you buried your hand in his disheveled, sweaty hair. "Then I dare you to."
You tugged on his roots.
"Fuck me, Spencer." You nipped on his bottom lip. "Fuck me real good."
His breath caught in his throat at your bold words, his heart pounding rapidly. With a shaky exhale, he met your gaze, the intensity in his eyes burning brighter than ever before.
And then, in a sudden surge of boldness, he surprised you, flipping you onto your back as you let out an amused squeal. But your laughter was quickly drowned out by the heat of his lips crashing down on yours.
He kissed you feverishly, with a messy and desperate hunger that left you breathless. He clung onto you as if you were the very air he needed to survive. He was devouring you as if you were the most delicious meal he had ever encountered, and he savored every moment, every sensation, swallowing your desperate moans.
And then he pulled out and you whimpered at the loss but any hint of disappointment vanished as you watched him shed his last piece of clothing. Then with deliberate slowness, he reached for your panties, his eyes locked on yours as he dragged them up your leg, savoring the sight of the damp fabric clinging to your skin.
When he finally discarded it on the floor, he wasted no time in grabbing one of your legs. With deliberate tenderness, he began trailing soft kisses along the inner part of your thigh, each gentle press of his lips sending waves of pleasure radiating through your body. Your breath quickened as you watched him, your heart pounding in your chest.
"I'm not going to be rough," he whispered, his voice low and husky, his eyes never leaving yours as he planted soft kisses right at the edge of your drenching heat, teasingly close to where you craved him most. He then crawled over your body, settling himself between your legs, his gaze locked on yours.
"But I am going to use you," he murmured, his words sending a thrill of excitement coursing through you. "You'll let me do that, won't you?"
As he hovered above you, his weight supported by his arms, you watched a strand of his outgrown hair fall over his eyes. With a gentle touch, you reached out and tucked it behind his ear, a soft smile playing on your lips as you nodded in response.
"Say it," he urged. "Tell me you're mine to use."
You met his gaze, your own eyes dark with longing and anticipation. "I'm yours," you whispered, and when you felt his tip pressing into your entrance once again, you gasped. "I-I’m yours to use."
In one swift motion, he filled you again with a hard thrust that had you arching your back, a strangled moan escaping your lips as pleasure surged through you. "S-Spence..."
"Good girl," he praised, his words sending shivers down your spine as he kissed your cheek. His hips began to roll into you, setting a rhythm that drove you wild. "My good, pretty girl."
You whined in response, the sound music to his ears as he continued to thrust into you at a steady rhythm. He relished the way you responded to him, the way you surrendered to the pleasure he was giving you. He wanted to use the way you were satisfied, to use the way you wanted him, to take you to the brink of ecstasy.
He wanted to use you in every way possible, to make you his in every sense of the word.
Spencer never considered himself a possessive person, but when it came to you, he wanted to be the one you surrendered to completely. And in this moment, he had never felt more in control. It was intoxicating, the power he held over you, the way you willingly gave yourself to him.
That was why when he felt you clenching around him, knowing you were so close to your peak, he stopped. He wanted to draw out this moment, to savor every sensation, every sound you made, every breath that escaped your lips. He wanted to draw out your pleasure until you were begging for release, until you were completely and utterly his.
"Why—" you gasped. "Why did you stop?"
He smiled down at you. "Because I want to make you feel good, Angel," he whispered, brushing a strand of hair away from your face. "And I want to take my time doing it."
Your head fell back, and you couldn't help but bite your lip to suppress a moan. His use of the term Angel always had a way of melting your resolve, and you knew he was fully aware of the effect it had on you.
"Be patient," he chided before burying his head in the crook of your neck, nipping at your skin gently. Then, he resumed moving his hips, each thrust sending waves of pleasure coursing through you. It felt incredible, but you couldn't shake the desire for him to fuck you harder.
"More," you cried out, feeling as if you were in a deep haze.
"Yeah? Spread your legs wider then."
You whimpered at his simple command, your shuddering legs gradually spreading a few inches wider. It was becoming harder to breathe from the way he was pushing you into the mattress, but you welcomed the pleasure, craving more of him.
Your hands clawed at his back, leaving crescent-shaped marks from your nails as you desperately sought something to hold onto. The intense pleasure coiled tightly in your gut, making you feel as if you were gasping for air while your head swam with overwhelming sensations.
Your moans became more fragmented with every stroke of his hips, your thoughts clouded by the pulsating ache between your legs. All you could focus on was the overwhelming sensation building within you, traveling along your body. You were so close—and then it stopped.
It simply stopped right at the edge, and you couldn't feel anything but a raw need. It was incredibly frustrating as you caught him smiling down at you. You whined and bucked your hips, chasing the tight warmth you had so suddenly been denied.
Your breath came out in short, ragged gasps. "You're evil," you managed to say, your voice trembling with need. "I-I was so close..."
"Too soon," he murmured against your lips, his breath hot against your skin as he pressed his lips to yours. "Just imagine how good it'll be once I finally let you come."
Spencer then slowly pulled away, his eyes tracing every detail of your trembling form—the way your mouth was slackened open, the way your hair sprawled across the sheets, the way your eyes fluttered closed yet struggled to remain open. He noticed them glistening with unshed tears, on the verge of falling, and a pang of guilt tugged at his heart.
He knew he was pushing you to your limits, but he couldn't help himself. He was simply using you, just like you asked him to. But seeing the tears welling in your eyes, a wave of tenderness washed over him, and he leaned down to kiss them away, whispering soft words of comfort.
"Shhh, it's okay," he murmured. Although his words were spoken softly, there was nothing gentle about the way he continued to fuck you. "You can take it. Hold on a little bit longer, I promise."
A choked sob escaped you as he pressed soft kisses to your cheeks, murmuring soothing words. One of his hands reached between you, settling on the lower part of your stomach before pressing down gently as he felt the outline of cock moving inside you. He let out a groan, overwhelmed by the sensation.
"That’s it, Angel," he murmured, his voice filled with admiration. "You're taking me so well."
You whimpered almost pathetically as everything started to blur. You were a sweaty mess, both of you were, his skin gliding along yours effortlessly as he continued to thrust into you. The sound of wet skin slapping against each other filled the room, so sticky, so messy, but you didn't care. All that mattered was the overwhelming pleasure coursing through your body, driving you closer and closer to the edge.
The throbbing between your legs was starting to burn, but at the same time, it felt so good—the way he was stretching you, the way you could feel him moving in and out of you. Every stroke sent waves of pleasure crashing over you, it was all too much but also not enough.
"S-Spence..." you whined, your head spinning with pleasure, almost too delirious as drool seeped down the corner of your lips. "Pl-Please, I-I can't—"
A soft chuckle escaped him as he watched you struggle to form coherent words. "Alright, alright, I got you," he murmured reassuringly. "On three now. Can you be a good girl and come at the count of three?"
You nodded weakly. "Yes, yes," you managed to whisper, your voice barely audible over the sound of your ragged breaths.
"That's my girl," he praised, his voice filled with satisfaction. "One..."
Your breath hitched as anticipation built within you. Obscene wet noises filled your ears as he continued to fuck you, and with each number, his thrusts grew more deliberate, more intense.
"Two..."
You whined and he swallowed your moans, capturing your mouth in a deep, passionate kiss. You couldn't form any coherent words. You couldn't even think. It was too fucking much and you were on the verge of your breaking point.
And then, on the final count, he drove into you with such force that it sent you hurtling over the edge, your body convulsing as waves of pleasure crashed over you.
"Three," he whispered as he pulled back slightly, a string of saliva connected your parted mouths.
You gasped, holding onto him tightly as waves of pleasure consumed you. Your senses overwhelmed, your vision blurred with white-hot intensity, and tears leaked from the corners of your eyes as you teetered on the edge of overstimulation.
T-Too much—You can't. You fucking can't.
The sensation never seemed to end and you found yourself surrendering to it,  your mind going blank. It was as if you were intoxicated by the heady sensation, your senses dulled and heightened all at once, drunk on his touch. Your body felt so wet, so sensitive, so overwhelmed by the sheer force of your climax. 
And when you thought it couldn't get any more intense, he proved you wrong by rutting his hips even harder with so much force as he chased his own high. He tucked his head in your neck, his hot breath fanning across your skin as he moaned into your ear. With a few final thrusts, he drove into you deeply, his body tensing as he released himself inside you.
You were tired, so overwhelmingly spent, and as you both came down from the high, you gasped and trembled, your body finally relaxing from the pent-up tension. Your eyes felt glassy and unfocused, blinking slowly as you registered his murmured praises against your neck and shoulder.
He gently pulled away, and you winced as you felt him still throbbing inside you. Slowly, he searched for your eyes, his gaze filled with tenderness, and sighed in relief when you looked up at him with a tired yet blissful smile on your lips.
He smiled softly, relieved by your response. "You're okay."
You nodded, still feeling a bit dazed. "Hmm," you murmured, running your fingers along his damp hair. "I'm more than okay."
He leaned in to press a gentle kiss to your forehead. "You did so well," he whispered, his voice barely above a breath. "I'm so proud of you."
You giggled. "Me? I never thought you could be tempted to do that so easily."
He chuckled softly, brushing his nose against yours. "You have that effect on me," he confessed. "Besides, it's hard to resist you."
"I am pretty irresistible, aren't I?"
"Absolutely," he replied as he brushed a stray strand of hair away from your face. He shifted his weight and started to pull out, only for you to wrap your legs around his waist, locking him in place.
"No, no," you pleaded. "Stay inside me for a while."
He paused, looking down at you with a smile. "We need to clean up."
"And we will." You ran a hand over his shoulder. "Just... give me five minutes."
He sighed, his resolve melting under your pleading gaze. "Alright, five minutes," he agreed, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to your lips. "But then we really need to clean up."
You responded with a soft hum, snuggling closer to him as he shifted toward the empty space on the bed. With a gentle gesture, he pulled you on top of him, enveloping you in his arms as you sprawled across his body. 
You let out a sigh, tucking your face into the crook of his neck with the rhythm of his heart beating against your own. And as you savored the sensation of him still pulsing inside you, you smiled peacefully—you have never felt so complete.
I'm tempted to turn this into a series of one-shots where he and Reader explore new kinks together... or like how they try to navigate their relationship. I'm really, really tempted.
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heeliopheelia · 2 months
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𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐈𝐑 𝐒/𝐎 𝐂𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐌 𝐁𝐑𝐎
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genre: fluff, established relationship
word count: 1.7k
warnings: hoon’s quite suggestive, jake’s hinting suggestive content but it’s really up to your own interpretation lmaoo, kissing
a/n: yayyy, this one has been sitting in my drafts FOREVER!! so glad to finally put it out...
masterlist
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LEE HEESEUNG
You can’t help but chuckle into his lips, teeth clashing slightly when his cold hands make contact with the skin underneath your top. Heeseung pulls away from the kiss, raising his eyebrow at your behavior before realizing that the reason for your laughter comes from the touch of hands. 
Already knowing his ill intentions of tickling you by his expression, you put your hands over his and speak before you can even think of your words first.
“Bro, don’t even-”
Your words are interrupted with a loud scoff. “What did you just call me, you little witch?”
“Hey!”
“You see, things like that really make me rethink our relationship.”
You burst out laughing away before shoving his face away gently. “You’re so mean.”
“You’re the mean one for even letting such words come to your mind while addressing me.” 
You roll your eyes, biting back a smile before grabbing his neck and trying to smush your lips together. A whine rips out of your throat when he denies you your kiss and looks at you as if you were crazy.
“Just come here, you dramatic ass! I haven’t seen you in a whole week!”
Heeseung flicks your nose instead. “Exactly! You haven’t seen me in an entire week and the first word that comes to your mind is bro. Really?”
You groan loudly, throwing your head back as you prepare yourself for the next fifteen minutes of bickering with your boyfriend. “Oh my god-”
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PARK JAY
“Why would you ever call me that, oh my god.”
His frown is enough to make you burst out with chuckles. You grab onto his arm as you catch up to him, letting the glass door of the small convenience store shut behind you. 
“I thought that was funny,” you chirp up at him, batting your eyelashes innocently.
“And in public too? You really want me to go gray before my thirties, don’t you?”
You raise your arm up and run your hand through his soft hair, pretending to actually consider his question. “I think you’d actually look rather hot with salt-pepper hair, you know? You’d look ravishing with any hairstyle, really.”
Jay sends you an unamused look as you keep giggling. “Sweet words aren't gonna get you anywhere, miss.”
“Okay, okay, I’m sorry,” you finally fold as you slip your hand into his. 
Jay intertwines your fingers without skipping a beat, before tugging on your arm and pulling you even closer to him. 
“Please, don’t ever do that again. I might actually go crazy.”
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SIM JAKE
You look with slight disappointment at your boyfriend occupied with his game – too occupied to notice you’ve called him a bro instead of baby for the second time this past five minutes. Sitting boredly on his bed, you sigh again.
“What is it, angel?” Jake asks, eyes drawn to the screen and never sparing you a look. 
You never minded when he spent his evenings gaming, you know everyone has their own stress relievers, but tonight you were just so damn bored you didn’t know what else to do.
“Nothing, bro,” you snap a little sharper than intended, slightly irked by his innocent negligence. “I’m gonna order some take out. What do you want?”
Only then, couple seconds of silence later, your words seem to click and Jake pauses his game and turns to you with a slightly perplexed expression. “Wait… Could you repeat that?”
You roll your eyes. “I said, I’m gonna order som-”
“No, that word you’ve just called me,” he cuts you off with a pout. “Why would you say that?”
You shrug, dragging out your upset act although there’s barely a spark of annoyance in your system by now. 
“Dunno. Maybe I just wanted my boyfriend to pay attention to me finally after I’ve been begging for it for an hour now.”
Jake coos at you before standing up and walking over to you, abandoning his game completely and engulfing you in his embrace. 
“I’m sorry, baby,” he mumbles into your neck as you fall backwards on his bedsheets, your boyfriend on top of you. He kisses up a trail up to your jawline, then moves to your lips for a moment and dragging it out longer and longer. “Lemme make it up to you, huh?”
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PARK SUNGHOON
“What’s gotten you so quiet?” Sunghoon asks as he nudges you with his hip, standing right beside you.
You finish washing your face before patting it dry with a towel, ignoring his questioning look as he pierces you through the mirror. You put the towel next to the sink before sighing.
“I don’t know, bro,” you say, biting your smile back as you notice his eyebrows raising up at the unusual nickname. “I guess I’m just tired.”
Sunghoon snorts quietly before turning to face you, leaning his hip against the marble counter. “Really?”
You look at him with fake confusion, tilting your head to the side as you blink innocently. “What do you mean?”
“If I remember correctly, I was just blowing your back out ten minutes ago and now you’re here calling me this fraternal slur?” He claps back, smiling lazily as your eyes go wide at his bold words. 
“Sunghoon! Oh my god,” you gasp, smacking his bare chest with your towel. “Have you got no shame?”
He barks out a laugh before walking up to you and grabbing you by your hips. “Maybe that’ll make you think twice before trying your stupid shit on me again.” And as these words leave his mouth, he’s leaning down and smacking his lips onto yours, already pulling you to your bedroom again.
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KIM SUNOO
“A WHAT?” 
Your arms fall to your sides, and you watch as your beloved boyfriend goes into a fucking spiral over a nickname that’s just slipped out by an accident. “Sunoo, baby, please, calm d-”
“I know you did not just call me bro. Don’t ever talk to me again.”
You follow him out of the kitchen from where he storms out, an outraged expression on his face. You stifle your laughter and put on a serious facade as he drops down on the couch with an irritated huff, muttering under his nose about how unbelievable you were being.
You take a seat next to him and place your hand on his thigh. “I swear, I only said that out of habit.”
“Yeah, what’s next in the store for me?” He asks and this time you can’t help but chuckle. “No, tell me. When should I be prepared for you to start calling me homie or gang?”
“It’s not that serious!” You laugh in his face, only making his expression more sour. But how can you help it when he looks at you as if you’ve just pissed in his cereal bowl? 
“I’ve literally never been more offended in my life.”
You wrap your arms around his neck and pepper his cheeks with kisses, hoping this will ease him out sooner. “I’m sorry, my beloved, my heart, my everything.”
“Keep talking and you might be forgiven somewhere in the future.” 
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YANG JUNGWON
“I was thinking about buying that one perfume lately,” you say suddenly, eyes planted at the tv as the commercial reminded you of your last trip to the mall.
“Are you sure?” Jungwon hums, resting his head over yours that’s leaned on his shoulder. “It was rather expensive, no? I don’t want you regretting buying it two days later.”
“I know, bro,” you groan and turn your face to bury it in his neck. You don’t notice his head tilting to look at you a little questionably. “That’s why I’m thinking about it. I don’t know if I’ll actually commit.”
There’s a brief silence before his sweet voice follows after the kiss he presses to your hair. 
“I don’t think that’s my name, baby.”
You pull away, slightly confused, blinking up at your boyfriend. “What?”
“Out of all the nicknames you’ve given me, I liked that one the least.”
It takes you a moment to click and finally comprehend his words, and when you do, you let out a small huff at his still rather soft way with words.
You wrap your arms around his middle. “Oh… Sorry, I didn’t actually mean to say that.”
“It’s okay,” he assures quickly, bringing you closer to his warm chest, a steady heartbeat beating underneath his sweatshirt. 
“Well, which one do you like the most?” You ask, implying to his previous thought. 
Jungwon ponders for a moment. “Hm, I don’t know. I like all of them, really. Won is pretty nice, or my love… I like dumpling surprisingly a lot too.”
You can’t help but laugh at his answer, mind barely recalling the one and only time you jokingly referred to him as a dumpling while you pinched on his dimpled cheek lovingly.
“Gosh, you’re so cute.”
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NISHIMURA RIKI
“Can you pass me the salt, bro?” You ask your boyfriend who’s sitting on your left. 
You’re too focused on frowning upon the bland food you’ve made to notice how Riki’s eyebrows furrowed up at his new nickname. 
After not having a response in the following minute, you turn to him with surprise as you notice the look on his face. 
“I don’t know, sis, I think your hands are fully capable, no?” He chirps at you and you gape at him with confusion before the realization dawns on you.
You snort, shaking your head at your boyfriend. “Don’t be a child, I didn’t mean to say that. It just slipped out.”
Riki hums. “Dunno, it sounded pretty natural to me, sis. Almost as if it was your regular nickname for me, sis.”
“Stop it!” You whine out, dropping your fork before glaring at the smirking man on your left. “I didn’t mean it. Now, give me a kiss.”
You pucker your lips and lean forward, only to be met with his hand pressed flat to your mouth. Your eyebrows shoot high as he chuckles at you. 
“Sorry but I’m not into incestious relationships.”
“Riki, c’mon!” You groan, kicking his shin underneath the table harmlessly. 
He cups your cheeks with a laugh and squishes your face with his fingers. “‘m just teasing,” he muses before leaning in and closing the gap between you. 
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permanent taglist @bambisgirl @arizejkt19 @luvmura @milisabunny @cathy-1997 @satoruskitchenrag @ramenoil @jenjnk @jaylaxies @yoongspi @nichoswag @s00buwu @dazzlingligth @seungiesluv @i4kt @heehoonsnemo @seongslutt
© heeliopheelia 2024 // ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. DO NOT copy, translate or repost any of my works on any other social platforms.
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churipu · 3 months
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THE MOMENT THEY REALIZE THEY'RE IN LOVE ִ ࣪𖤐
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featuring. gojo satoru, sukuna ryomen, itadori yuuji, toji fushiguro x reader
warnings. cursing, college! au, toji being a single father during his second term of uni (i searched that most japanese college uses 2 terms or trimester system / 3 terms, 1 term of uni in japan is around 15 weeks apparently) -> please tell me if i get this wrong.
note. omg, for the anons who have sent in requests to me, i apologize if these came out before your requests did, i'm trying to empty out my drafts :( but pls note that i am not ignoring your requests at all, it will be written, i promise <;33
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GOJO SATORU
when he finds himself checking his phone countless of times, waiting for your message
i promise you, you both started out as work partners in one of your lectures. the two of you were complete strangers to each other — he doesn't know you, and you don't know him. but, either way, the two of you had to get to know each other because this was a crucial grade to pass this lecture.
gojo never thought about having feelings towards you, his work partner. he thought to himself, he'd just get this work done, pass this lecture, and never see you again.
but fate is a funny thing.
the way you made him feel like he wasn't just special because of his face, but his heart too. whereas most people in campus would consider him the pretty boy who could go head-to-head with the hottest celebrities — they just think of him as a pretty boy. and gojo would just go along with them, he gets used to it.
but you? you didn't consider him special at all. although, you did make him feel special the way other people can't.
gojo deep down, knows he was fucked up the moment he finds himself checking his phone to see if you'd reply to his messages, and when you do, he gets so happy. gojo was never a fast responder to everyone — because he practically receives the same kind of messages, "gojo hang out with us", "gojo go out with me", "gojo i like you".
but with you? he won't waste a second at all. even if sometimes you didn't reply as fast as he does, because you are a busy person in campus. you'll work on that after you both started dating, i promise.
SUKUNA RYOMEN
when you stood up for him when nobody would.
sukuna, how do i say this? not everyone is fond of him, people are scared of him — they talk shit behind his back, and don't dare to approach him. people dreaded when they have to be in the same group with him, despite the fact that he actually works; they still think he's a bad person.
"you guys are talking shit to a person who's in our group, if you want to say something to him, have the balls to say it to his face. and while he's here, why don't you tell him about it?" you tell the two people who were sitting beside you, who had been talking in whispers about how they were unlucky to be grouped up with sukuna.
and sukuna? he could honestly care less, he'd gotten used to those kind of things anyway. but when you actually stood up for him, he could only look at you with an amused smile.
he's definitely curious about you after that day — he has pride. and he'd never admit that he's actually pretty thankful that you, the first person to stand up for him, actually did what you did. because now people are a little terrified of being told off by you.
sukuna finally sucks it up at the end of the semester and tries to talk to you. yes, it took him the whole semester to talk to you, asking you for your number, and then thanking you for what you did because nobody has ever done that before to him.
ITADORI YUUJI
when you went all out to tutor him so he'd pass his lectures, teaching him patiently when he doesn't understand something.
yuuji hates studying. and when his lecturer asked you to tutor him, he feels extremely bad for you — he feels that he'd just going to waste your time tutoring him, when he knows that he's going to fail this one subject.
but when you reassured him, and encouraged him. saying that you will do anything to teach him so that he could pass, he gets a little emotional at the thought. you both were just mere classmates, and he barely knows you, vice versa.
when he doesn't understand a topic, he gets so frustrated at himself for not being able to understand it. but you, you were very patient with the male, reassuring him that you had the time to teach him over so that he will be able to understand the said topic.
and when he does finally understand, he gets so happy. he started looking forwards to your tutoring sessions, and like everyone said: if you enjoy something, it passes by quickly. and it's true, yuuji feels like time went by in a flash, and the exams soon started.
he passed with flying colors, he makes sure that you know about his grades — and points out that without you, he wouldn't be able to pass. yuuji, gets a little upset when he realizes that if the exams are over, you had no more tutoring sessions with him; which meant no more conversations.
so he has to ask you out right then, he didn't want to just return as mere classmates. he wanted to be more than that.
TOJI FUSHIGURO
when you didn't care about his shitty reputation of being a single father while still being on the second term of uni.
being a single parent is hard enough. not to mention, in university. not married, with a baby itself gets a lot of unwanted (negative) attention — toji, who once failed to get a babysitter on a weekday, and so he had to bring his eight month old son to class.
his son—megumi— was a calm baby, thankfully. the young one didn't cry or babble during lectures, and he just slept through it. toji was a little relieved to say the least, but ever since people find out about him being a single father to an eight month old baby, a lot of assumptions and words have gone around.
toji hated group works, especially when he has to pick the group himself. people didn't want a single father to be in their group, they assumed that the male would focus on his baby and ends up deserting the group work.
so when that particular day where he has to bring megumi to campus, strapped on a baby carrier on his chest. his lecturer just had to give out a partner work, and to add the cherry on top; the lecturer left the class to choose their own partner. so the male sat on his place, a pencil in between his nose and upper lip as he puckered them lightly — hearing his classmates choosing each other.
he figured that he could just do this and get the grade himself, solo. but when you came up and slipped into the seat next to him, he was of course surprised.
you asked him if he would like to partner up with you for this work, and after a few seconds, he accepted your offer.
toji knew it was getting bad when you didn't care about what people say about you getting close to him. just by choosing him for this work made your reputation falter a bit, and he was honestly ready for you to back out of the partner work.
but you didn't, and he knew it's bad for him, his feelings, and his heart.
the way you treated him and megumi like they're both normal (which they are normal humans), and the way you always make him feel included makes his heart race. sometimes, when he fails to look for a babysitter when you both are working for this project, you tell him he didn't have to since megumi is a calm baby.
he finds himself in awe when baby megumi plays with you during both of your little meet ups outside of class to do the project. he's in love.
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© CHURIPU 2024 , DO NOT COPY OR REPOST ANYWHERE
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satorhime · 11 months
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. ・。・ right where you left me ࿐gojo satoru.
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── ◜ ⪩⪨ ◞ content : angst, fluff, dad!gojo (reader ‘n’ gojo have a daughter), set in 2018 and 2023, reunion, beach trips, established relationship ! f!reader. ・。・ w.c. 3.7k & not proofread.
── ◜ ⪩⪨ ◞ synopsis : time remains the one enemy gojo can’t defeat. ໒꒰ྀི ´ ꒳ ` ꒱ྀིა notes: ik there’s a gazillion reunion fics but this has been sitting in my drafts since oct n i suddenly felt like finishing n sharing so i hope u enjoy <333 ‘m gna go cry over this fic now ;u;
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satoru is having a damn good day.
it’s suspicious, it feels like a fever dream, and he can’t really pinpoint where the dubiousness comes from. maybe it’s because he feels as if he doesn’t deserve it, like if he allows himself to relax like this something terrible will happen while he slacks off. or maybe, it’s because he’s only ever had those truly good days in his youth when he was devil may care and his concerns for the wellbeing of the world slid off his shoulders weightlessly, like sheets of rain on a rooftop. a wild and selfish kind of happiness that begun in spring and ended too quickly in winter.
but today is a good day. he forgot to charge his phone last night, he is in the best mood he’s been in all year, and he can’t stop fucking smiling. gojo satoru is thriving, on top of the world, a little bit of that nostalgic, adolescent joy warming up his chest.
and it’s all because it’s a sunny day, the water is cool, and he’s on the beach with you and his baby girl.
the three of you decided to steal away on a spontaneous trip to okinawa that forced him out of his work uniform and into swim trunks with a bare chest, simply because you burst into his office with big droplets of tears in your eyes declaring yourself a terrible mother because you realized that your daughter was already three years old and she had never seen the ocean before.
it had taken him ten minutes to book three first class tickets and secure the private family villa for the weekend, fifteen to get packed, and twenty to board after hearing that.
he would do anything to please his girls, after all.
“‘anna go into the bathtub, mama!” your baby whines impatiently from the embrace of your arms, squirming and squiggling for you to let her down as she points towards the rolling ocean waves behind you. ever since she learned how to walk, she’s lost all patience for her doting parents carrying her around— especially when something catches the attention of those big, pretty blue eyes. it didn’t take long for her to become enamored with the sea, wanting nothing more than to get out of your hold and toddle towards the shallows.
“it’s called an ‘ocean’, cupcake,” you correct her, voice full of amusement and affection as you crane your head forward to kiss the soft skin of her chubby cheek, bouncing the toddler in your arms. “too bad we’re being held hostage by dada right now.”
“i heard that,” satoru mumbles with a pout, his third melon popsicle of the day hanging from one side of his mouth. droplets of green slush drips onto the broad planes of his chest in a sticky mess as it melts but he’s wholly focused on the two of you, one summer blue eye winked closed as the other peers through the lens of the polaroid camera looped around his neck. “but wait, just one more photo of my two favorite girls!”
“you’ve been taking photos for the last twenty minutes, satoru,” you huff. “we aren’t going anywhere, you know. you don’t have to take so many.”
“our baby needs to see what the three of us looked like in our prime, before we grow old and gray together.”
“you’re so ridiculous, gojo satoru.”
but despite your exasperation, you remain put. it’s hard not to feel the same way he does on a perfect day like this— contentment, light in the heart and full of love because of this little trip. the camera focuses in on you and your daughter before the shutter clicks, each snap immortalizing the sight of you and your baby girl illuminated by the lazy autumn sun.
“and done!” he cheers, catching the polaroid in his palm as it slides from the slot. it wobbles between two of his fingers as it develops, but he can already see that it’s a perfect picture. he feels his heart sink in his chest, melting into a syrupy sweet puddle of happiness that makes him lightheaded and anxious.
oh, you’ve never looked as pretty as you do right now. like a dream, a forever kind of love he never plans to let go of. wearing that cute little swimsuit he likes so much with his sunnies perched on top of your head and his baby propped up on your supple hip. the two of you are beaming, cheeks squished together, your daughter’s hand cupping your face fondly.
it’s the kind of picture that others would coo at and fawn over if he framed it in a museum, but satoru retrieves his wallet from the pocket of his swim trunks, tucking the polaroid safely in the trifold for his own selfish keeping.
“i think she really likes the beach,” you tell him, squatting to set your daughter on her feet. she waves to you and satoru before waddling toward the shallow surf, her little legs stumbling in the thick body of sand. “this was good of you, satoru.”
“what? you think i’d miss the opportunity to spend time with my best girls?” he asks you, a hand on his chest with an affronted look on his face. you resist the urge to snort as the two of you follow closely behind your stumbling toddler, rushing towards her every time she gets distracted and attempts to eat the sand or chase one of the seagulls.
“you’ve been busy lately, that’s all,” is how you respond, the accusation washed out of your tone for the gentle words instead. you don’t bring up how many milestones, how many little memories he’s already missed, just by being who he is— that no matter what, he’ll always belong to his duty first and his family second. no, you’ve always shown patience and understanding. never complaining when his side of the bed is empty before morning or your girl requests for her father to read a bedtime story in that animated, comical way you can never replicate for her. making her settle for your offkey, wobbly lullabies instead.
“i know,” he says quietly, suddenly serious— keeping one eye on your baby girl who is currently splashing her hands around in the sand and water. “one of my first year’s a vessel so the curses are getting more pesky. i don’t think that’s a coincidence.”
“you think something’s about to happen?” you ask, looking up at him, but he presses a kiss to your temple and you wrinkle your nose at the sticky feeling of his lips.
“nah,” he replies, and you almost roll your eyes because you know he’s lying. even though satoru has done his best to keep you hidden from his world, you’re no fool. you already know why he rarely comes home at night, why he was absent for christmas last year, why your daughter has never met her paternal grandparents. you know that with the reappearance of several ancient cursed objects, there is thunder crackling among the clouds. “don’t worry your pretty little head about that.”
satoru turns up the volume on the waterproof boombox half-buried in the sand next to your belongings. he can’t stand your choice of music, finds it noise most of the time, but it’s the distraction the atmosphere needs to throw off your questioning. he pulls you to sit down between his legs, your back pressed against his chest and his arms wrapped around your body.
ocean foam splashes against the tips of your toes as the two of you sit at the surf of the tide in peaceful silence, time getting away from you both in the warm sun as your baby girl plays, her energy endless— waddling around and squealing at the different curiosities and wonders the beach has to offer.
whatever will happen, satoru won’t allow it to be today.
“satoru,” you call after a long quiet, craning your neck to look up at him. “if you—”
“what, you think i’m gonna croak sometime soon?” he shoots back, already knowing where the conversation is heading. so he holds you tighter, his strong arms a protective cage around your body as his shades slide down the attractive slope of his nose. he cracks a grin at you, another obvious deflection because he knows you can’t resist when he looks at you that way. not with his hair mussed from humidity, a strip of sunscreen on his nose as he chews on that damn wooden stick from his ice pop earlier.
“i know what you’re doing,” you shake your head. “and it’s not working. i’m just worried, i’m allowed to, as your wife. you think you’re invincible but if something happens to you that’ll… it’ll—” it will break us.
satoru’s smile fades, but he thankfully doesn’t need to reply because your daughter is waddling up to the both of you now, her sand-caked hands full of seashells and stones that glimmer in the sunlight. he wants to scoff because if anyone understands the consequences of failing those you love, it’s him— it’s all he’s ever known.
“what ya got there, princess?”
“fish—!” she cries in her sweet, babyish voice. some of the shells tumble from her hands, and you watch as her expression switches from happiness to dismay to finally confusion. you have to bite your lip to hold back laughter when instead of picking them back up, she dumps the rest of the seashells in your lap. “now i don’t have any fish.”
“i think those are seashells, princess,” gojo says with a grin, picking up a shell that rests on top of your thigh and holding it up to the sunlight. “this shell looks like it belongs to a hermit crab, like your megumi-nii.”
“you’re a terrible influence on our daughter, you know.”
“i’m just setting up future dynamics, angel face,” he grins.
“look look look!” your daughter gasps, bringing your attentions back to her. “this swee-shell looks like dada—!” she squeals excitedly, her new finding held delicately in her little sand-covered palm. she stands up on your thighs to reach her father sitting behind you, holding an iridescent blue seashell next to gojo’s eyes, her tiny mind comparing the colors in wonder. meanwhile, satoru wears a smile that burns so wide it hurts his cheeks.
“it looks like you too, princess,” he boops her nose, gently taking the seashell and holding it to her eyes next. her answering giggles sound like a sweet bell calling him home to heaven, but he can’t answer it because there are two people on this earth who laugh and smile at him like he hung the moon and painted the stars. “if you put it in your pocket now, the ocean won’t call the cops on you for stealing it.”
“no, this one ‘s for dada,” she insists, shoving the pretty blue seashell back into his hand.
“thank you, my mini angel,” he ruffles her hair, and you smile softly at the little exchange because though she may be enamored with her new discoveries at the beach, her father will always be one of her favorite wonders of the world.
“i ‘anna go find one for mama now!” she announces, and you wonder how she hasn’t run out of energy yet, but you nod and stand to your feet, dusting the sand away from the bottom of your swimsuit. your baby’s entire hand curls around your pointer finger, and she pulls you along with great effort.
you glance back at satoru and find that he’s watching the two of you head closer to the water, that uncharacteristically genuine smile still on his face, and you part your lips to call him to your side— where he’s always supposed to be.
“you didn’t think we’d let you slack off, did you? finding seashells is serious business, satoru!” you tease, pretty eyes crinkling with unbridled happiness, haloed by the waning sun and the orange dreamsicle sky that holds it. “hurry up!”
“wait for me just a little while, i’m coming to you,” he calls back, a lopsided grin spreading across his mouth before he raises the polaroid camera to his face, snapping one last candid photo of the two of you before he jogs towards his little piece of heaven.
but he doesn’t think he’s imagining things when the distance between heaven and earth keeps growing further and further apart—
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“satoru, you can’t stand outside forever,” your voice is gentle as it speaks behind him, your hand laid delicately on his back in comfort; breaking the sorcerer out of deep reverie, the edges of the old memory fading, replaced by the pink paint of his daughter’s bedroom door that he’s been standing in front of for the last thirty minutes. his thumb brushes over the polaroid in his hand, the one that had been his salvation and his undoing in the prison realm. he’d taken it out without knowing, his eyes reading over the date written in his handwriting.
october 30, 2018
the picture of you with your daughter on your hip that he took at the beach all those years ago— that had been the last time he’d seen her.
four, no, five years?
his feet are nailed to the floor because change makes satoru shut down, and everything has changed since then.
while time was immeasurable and immovable inside of the prison realm for him, the clock had ticked on outside of it and just like that, his little girl is no longer three years old, giving him seashells that matches his eyes or hitting the back of his ankles with her big wheel or—
“you can’t keep doing this to yourself,” you sigh. “you’ve been unsealed for months. you’re her father, no matter what.”
“i’m a stranger to her,” and to you, but he doesn’t say it. you had waited for him, in every aspect of the word. held out on hope and faith in his strength that he would return to your side, where he’s always supposed to be.
“you’re n—” but you’re cut off when the door opens to reveal your daughter standing on the other side. the child standing before him is almost unrecognizable. she’s much taller and older, wearing track pants underneath her school dress with ribbons in unruly waves of white hair. the last time he’d seen his daughter, she had been three years old and still learning things like colors and sight words and that feeding megumi’s demon dogs her vegetable purée was against the rules. now, gojo satoru was the father of an eight year old and he’d missed everything because of a mista—
“you can come in,” she says, blinking up at satoru with an expression void of emotion. “but i’m not finished with my homework so if you stay too long, you’ll bug me.”
“how did you know i was outside?” he whistles nonchalantly, unbothered by the attitude that she gives him. it fills him with bitter satisfaction that she isn’t excited to see him, that someone is angry that he failed, regardless if he won in the end. he can handle bratty children who hate him and only look at him as a tool for their success, he can’t handle a daughter who cried herself to sleep every night waiting for him while he was losing his sanity away in a cube.
or at least, that’s what he tells himself.
“i could see you and mama through the door, duh,” she replies, hip cocked to the side in an amount of sass she had to pick up from you. “mama says i have your eyesight. i don’t really get it, but it makes it easy to cheat on tests.”
he could see it in the bright blue of her eyes, even if she hadn’t confirmed it. plain as daylight, she’s exactly like he was at that age. easily irritable and bratty, cocky and spoiled rotten. suffering from the weight of being an uncontested heir to an ancient dynasty at the age of elementary.
“i used six eyes to cheat on tests too,” he relates with pride, and then he bends down to her height, waving his palm. “sooo you probably got some questions about where i was—”
“not really. grandfather said you were sealed because you’re foolish and let weakness distract you.”
“you shouldn’t say things like that,” you scold, “apologize.”
“why? i don’t want to.”
your daughter turns, disappearing back into her room after that and seeming like she doesn’t care if satoru follows or not. your hand travels up the long expanse of satoru’s back in a soothing circle as you step closer.
“huh, that’s new.”
“sorry, she’s… i don’t know if acting out is the right term,” you say, pain in your voice. “she doesn’t really understand why she’s so different, or why you were … gone for so long. i know you didn’t want her around your family so i kept her away as best i could, but she started to have crippling migraines because she didn’t know how to use her ability and well… they were the only ones who knew how to help. filled her head with foolishness every time she visited the estate, though and it’s changed her.”
“huh,” is all he says, a broken record, tongue running across his inner lip in thought.
“do you need me?”
“what, you think i can’t handle her?”
“well, you were outside the door for a half hour, ‘toru.”
he shoots you a lopsided grin before he’s stepping into his daughter’s bedroom, glancing around at the unfamiliarity of it all. you follow close behind, watching with a heavy heart as he takes in the difference eight years can make.
her tiny baby crib has been traded for a poster bed decorated with a sanrio duvet and various stuffed animals where a laptop and study papers lay scattered on top. the angel themed decorations, along with her first ultrasound photo you and satoru had hung up in her nursery had been replaced by pink paint and pictures of her with a group of friends from school and a photo of her on a volleyball team.
he has to rip his gaze away.
“so,” he starts, standing in the center of the room and trying not to feel like an intruder, desperate for something to say— something to relate to her with. “how many episodes did i miss? did aya-chan ever get married?”
“i’m too old to play with dolls now, father,” she huffs, scrunching up her nose, and though satoru expected that exact answer, it doesn’t stop his heart from shattering into a million pieces. he feels that familiar itch, anger welling in his body until it burns at his fingertips because this is no one’s fault but his own. “don’t you know anything about me?”
“my bad, you’re a big kid now,” he snorts, even as his chest aches. he sits on the edge of her bed, flipping up one edge of the coloring book laying next to her laptop. “maybe you should start paying taxes.”
“i’m also too young to pay taxes. you really don’t know anything about me anymore,” she snaps, and she’s right— he doesn’t and it burns like saltwater on a wound. now he knows why you asked if he needed you; he’d hide behind you if he could, but he settles for flickering his eyes up to you helplessly.
you realize that neither of you can be upset with her for being angry that one of her favorite people vanished out of thin air. that while he was sealed, his clan had taken advantage of his absence and your powerlessness against them, and had begun spoiling your child rotten, teaching her how to use her ability— plumping her up for the inevitable day that she becomes her father’s successor, turning her against him.
“i think,” you say softly, leaning against the frame of the door. “that your dada— your father— would like to learn, though. he’s missed a lot, baby.”
she considers this for a long while, then she heaves a great sigh, hackles lowering. she scoots off the bed and before satoru can feel the hurt of figuring she doesn’t want to be near him, she does something unexpected. she moves one of her trophies out of the way to open her closet door, rummaging around for the longest before she yanks out a cardboard box you had labeled ‘donate one day since my snotty kid is a hag now’— it’s a box full of old dolls, covered in dust. she sits on her knees in front of the box, peering inside.
“aya-chan didn’t get married, but hinata-chan did,” she explains with an exasperated sigh and a roll of her eyes, taking out the dolls one by one and setting them on the floor in front of satoru’s feet.
“to the mailman that lived in your ugliest dollhouse?”
“you remember,” her eyes widen a little in surprise before her expression shutters again, smoothing out the doll’s colorful polyester dress before reaching back into the box and retrieving a brush covered in synthetic hairs. she looks at it for a while before extending her arm and offering the brush to her father. “aya-chan decided to be independent and explore the world. she’s planning to go on a trip soon so she needs to get ready. do y’wanna brush her hair?”
satoru is sliding off the bed and sitting cross-legged on the floor before he knows it, barely wanting to breathe because he doesn’t want to shatter the fragility of the moment between them. he takes the brush, and seconds later she hands him one of the dolls that had once upon a time been her favorite one that no one was allowed to touch. you would giggle at the delicate way he brushes the doll’s hair with utmost care and precision if you weren’t about to cry at the scene instead. “oh, and where’s she headed?”
“okinawa.”
“ponytail or messy bun then?” you don’t think you’re imagining the wobble in his voice. “to compliment her swimsuit.”
a tiny, hopeful smile twinkles over your lips at the two of them on the floor, babbling away to each other about the outlandish stories they’ve created together with her dolls. how many times had you offered to play with her, only for her to burst into tears because it wasn’t the same? you know that this won’t bridge the gap between the years that have been lost, but it’s a start. just hearing the soft murmurs of their conversation, the sound of your little girl giggling for the first time in ages, makes your heart swell.
time may be an undefeated opponent, and with it comes change that no one can control, but something tells you that as long as the three of you are together— everything will be okay.
you tiptoe out of the room, because they need time to catch up and apologize and reconnect, to learn one another once more, but before you close the door, you don’t think you’re mistaken when you hear, “can we go back to the beach too, dada?”
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arminsumi · 7 months
Text
I want to kiss you — キスしたい
G. Satoru — さとる ⋅ fem reader
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NOTE : there's more parts planned for this, i just wanted to get at least this continuation out ✌️ it's maybe gonna be a bit of a slowburn thing, bc personally i love anticipating the buildup of two characters kissing. and also ugh i have such cute ideas in the drafts for this! like you and him using a magnetic drawing board to write down things that you take turns deciphering. and him writing a whole diary of his thoughts that he wishes he could voice to you, that he gives to you when you're leaving at the end of your visit 🥺 anyways!! lmk if you want to be tagged for any continuations pwease i'd value ur engagement very much !!
SUMMARY — you and Satoru falling in love despite a language barrier.
WARNINGS — slight underlying romantic tension between you and Suguru sooo potential love triangle?! one bed trope (you + Satoru), ik google translate is inaccurate but 🤷‍♀️ oh well
WORDCOUNT ≈ 4.6k
🍒 — J ⋅ reblogs and comments help a lot ! enjoy reading :)
A continuation of this post
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Satoru's never really been in love before.
Sure, in high school he experienced crushes and a handful of dates. But the crushes were shallow and short-lived, and the dates were lousy and forgettable.
But you? Well it's funny, see, you live on a whole different continent and can't speak his language, and yet to him you're as unforgettable as the scent of spring.
His feelings for you seep into his skin slowly, beautifully; and yet he can't express a single one to you because he too can't speak your language.
During late-night video calls, Suguru tries to bridge the gap between you and his best friend. And in your group chat, both Shoko and Suguru combine their skills to help you and Satoru understand each other. They do it because they see how badly the both of you want to know more about each other; especially Satoru.
Satoru has never been so infatuated before; never quite so curious and unashamedly intrigued with someone else. You're all he thinks about day and night.
When you speak, he desperately strains his ears. When you text, he consults the dreaded Google translate. And he's always nagging Suguru to translate everything, because he wants to know your every thought and expression.
Around a year and a half after meeting you, Satoru realizes something when he's lazing in his bed with his fluffy white cat curled up on his stomach as it rises and falls with his gentle breathing.
He likes you.
On call, when you giggle at the cat's fluffy tail blocking the webcam, Satoru thinks;
あなたの笑いが大好きです I love your laugh.
When talking about you with Suguru, he receives a little teasing smirk from him.
あなたは彼女が好きですよね? You like her, huh?
During lonely nights, he scrolls through your socials and stares longingly at photos of you, ones where you're hanging out with your real-life friends or family.
とても羨ましいです。私も彼女に��づきたいです。 I'm so jealous. I want to be close to her, too.
Listening to you attempt to speak Japanese on a call while him and Suguru are on a walk around Tokyo, he thinks;
私の言語であなたの声を聞くのが大好きです。 I love hearing your voice in my language.
Any photo of your face that you personally sent him, he looks at with heart eyes and saves immediately.
キスしたい。 I want to kiss you.
He'd be lying if he said he never pressed his lips to his screen and closed his eyes, pretending he was kissing you.
Satoru thinks poetically about you. He pens down these elaborative thoughts into his diary that he plans to give you one day. Maybe then you can get an idea of how deeply he thinks about you.
But even if he could speak English fluently, or you could speak Japanese fluently, he's sure neither language could be descriptive enough when it comes to his feelings for you.
He tries so hard to learn some phrases in anticipation of your upcoming visit, but all he can say when he meets you for the first time at Haneda airport is;
"Hi."
And he waves cutely.
"Hi!" you giggle, waving back.
And all at once, there's a bunch of thoughts buzzing in his head. He's looking at you like he's captivated. Even if he knew any solid English, he's sure he'd be speechless anyways.
実物の彼女はもっと美しい、信じられない。 She's even more beautiful in real life, I can't believe it.
彼女が何を言っているのか全く分かりませんが、いい感じですね。耳元で聞く彼女の声だけが私が望んでいたものです。 I have no idea what she's saying, but it sounds good. Her voice in my ear is all I wanted.
なぜ彼女は私ではなくスグルを抱きしめたのでしょうか?その瞬間は混乱の渦だったのでしょうか、それとも彼女は私を抱きしめたくなかったのでしょうか? Why did she hug Suguru instead of me? Was that moment a whirlwind of confusion, or did she just not want to hug me?
When you excuse yourself to go to the bathroom, the boys wait for you in their seats at the little airport cafe. The neon sign glows yellow above, plants hang from the ceiling; it's a busy place.
They're talking about you over their beverages.
Satoru groans dramatically, throwing his head back, fluffy hair flopping cutely.
"Oh Satoru," Suguru chuckles, "What's the matter? Why the groan?"
"I want to hug her."
Suguru's heart melts. "Then hug her. She doesn't bite. I think she wants to hug you, too."
"But then why didn't she hug me like she hugged you earlier? Maybe I don't seem huggable to her..."
"It was a rushed moment, she had just arrived you know? Don't overthink. Satoru, just hug her."
Satoru lets out a long, stifled noise that's a mix between a groan and a sigh. He tilts his whole body back, balancing precariously on the plastic chair. Rubbing his eyes until he sees some phosphenes, a habit he did when he was nervous. Suguru notices.
"Are you nervous?" Suguru asks tenderly.
"Really nervous. She's prettier in real life. I don't know what to do with myself." he admits quietly.
"Yeah, she is, haha. Oh, there she's coming back now — や!"
"や!" you returned, giggling.
That was Suguru's 'thing'. It's cuter in real life, seeing how his eyes curve up into a smile when he says it. There are details on his face that you didn't notice through the screen; he has an attractive trio of moles on his lower cheek, and when he smiles the left side of his lips curls up more to reveal some of his upper gum.
Satoru's heart beats a little harder when you sit closer to him. He's thinking;
Yay, 彼女は私の隣に座っています。 She is sitting next to me.
"Suguru, ask her if we're taller than she expected." Satoru asks suddenly. You just hear his voice next to you and it gives you tingles — there was a quality to his voice that only revealed itself in real life. An endearing voice crack accompanies the middle of his sentence.
"Satoru asks if we're taller than you expected." Suguru asks you, habitually resting his chin on the palm of his hand while taking a long sip on his iced tea.
"Yeah! Actually, I was surprised, because I thought you and Satoru were the same height, but Satoru is very slightly taller... " you say.
Satoru is listening curiously, waiting expectantly for Suguru's translation. And then it comes, and Satoru smirks at you.
"Yes." he nods, "(Suguru, how do I say I'm taller?) — I'm taller."
You let out a short and sweet ha-hah that makes even Suguru's heart feel a little something.
Each time you laugh, Satoru's thinking;
私はあなたの笑いが本当に大好きです。 。 。 I really love your laugh.
You three leave the airport for your hotel, so you can check in. It's almost midnight, your plane landed late. Though he thought he'd be tired, considering he's not a night owl like his best friend, Satoru is energetically striding next to you, teasing you and laughing with you and throwing hand gestures to try and communicate better. Suguru's fondly eyeing the two of you out, admiring how your chemistry comes to life so beautifully — this is what his best friend wished about for so long; to be at your side. Now he's getting to truly enjoy your company. The dreamy-eyed exchanges between you and Satoru make Suguru think that the two of you ought to be in a novel one day, with how pure and wholesome your story is unfolding right now.
Though, he can pick up on Satoru's frustrated stuttering when he fails to communicate with you. Suguru doesn't mind being the translator, nor does he mind bridging the gap between the two of you; Satoru's nagging can never bother him.
They help you out when you're checking into reception at the hotel, but then suddenly...
"... oh, that's not good. He said your reservation got cancelled." Suguru tells you.
"What!" you panic, "Why?"
Suguru inquires further for you, and finds out that it's because of overbooking.
So you groan, the three of you walking out of the hotel lobby, standing in the glow of the light coming through its glass doors. Satoru silently offers to take care of your suitcase, attentively noticing how tired you'd become from pulling it around.
"Thank you..." you tell him.
"Mm." he nods.
Suguru is quick to offer that you stay at their apartment. "... if you're comfortable with it. Just for the night, until you can find another booking elsewhere. Or if you want to stay by us for the whole month, that's okay too — just mind the cat."
"Suguru... thank you. I'm sorry to be intrusive."
"You're not being intrusive, don't worry. And anyways, I think Satoru will be excited to know that you're staying with us. He was bummed out when he learned that you were gonna stay at this hotel, since it's a bit far from our apartment."
Satoru looks at the two of you curiously after he hears his name mentioned.
"She's staying with us." Suguru tells him. You quietly appreciate his voice, and how soft it becomes when he speaks to Satoru.
"Yay!" Satoru says with a very cute thumbs up. You can hardly believe that this man is older than you.
"Tell him he's cute." you request to Suguru.
"Tell him yourself." he teases.
"No! That's embarrassing! Ah, never mind."
Satoru already knows what you said, though, his ears picked up on that he's cute and your words repeat in his head like his favorite song while the three of you walk the streets at night. He feels dreamy.
There is something indescribably welcoming about Japan that you realize while heading across the street, looking at the faces passing by. It's clean. The lights glow warm and bright. The buildings stand tall, but not intimidatingly so. When you pass by chattering people, you wish you knew what was being said.
The three of you have to take the train to get to their apartment. While boarding it, a cute little exchange happens between you and Satoru that you can't quite explain, but it makes the two of you laugh shyly and look away.
Now squished into a seat at the very edge, another cute little exchange happens between you and him. Satoru is talking up at Suguru, who opted for holding onto the train handles after giving up his seat for an older woman.
Satoru uses lots of hand gestures even when speaking Japanese, his big hands fly around, dramatizing whatever he's saying — and then he accidentally flattens his palm right on top of the back of your hand.
Satoru's quick to remove his hand and giggle it off, but Suguru is even quicker to let out a teasing "ooh, cute" when it happens, so the two of you get completely flustered.
Satoru's heart thumps and throbs for the whole train ride. You swear you can feel a tension between your hands as they rest palms-flat on the seats, less than an inch away; you can feel his warmth, and he can feel yours.
But then the train ride is over, and before you know it Suguru's thumbing his key into the lock of the apartment door. It rattles, the door opens, and the automatic light comes on in the genkan.
"Just a sec — gonna see where Mint is. Make yourself at home." Suguru tells you quickly, voice shaking as he shimmies out of his shoes, and then he disappears down the hall to find the mentioned cat.
Satoru hears the name 'Mint' and gets the idea of what Suguru said based on that.
He nimbly unlaces his Converse, and leans down to neatly tuck them into the corner of the genkan, purposefully next to your shoes.
Then he straightens his body out, and you two have a small comedic exchange as you both notice the height difference between you and him.
"Uh..." he looks down at you. "Water?" he asks after thinking for a moment.
Your heart lurches at his thoughtfulness. "Yes, please."
"Mhm." he hums self-consciously.
He wonders if his accent sounds weird to you. Suguru's reassured him plenty times in the past that it sounds cute and oddly British, but he doesn't really believe that.
Satoru leads the way into the kitchen, clicking the lights on as he goes. And you follow. Such a simple moment makes him feel fluttery.
And then you drink some water with him in the tiny, cramped kitchen that's much too small to accommodate two people. You wonder how Suguru and Satoru can stand in it at the same time if even you and Satoru can't manage it without bumping elbows. He chuckles apologetically.
Ah, the kitchen scene. What a movie scene it is between the two of you.
"Uhhh..." he seems to be skimming his mind for any piece of English vocabulary, getting nervous as you blink at him, waiting for him to speak.
He holds up one finger, then pulls his phone out of the pocket of his jeans. He's a very simple, yet stylish dresser; jeans and a white shirt that's much too big for him. He is truly so opposite to his best friend's fashion that it makes you smile to yourself. Suguru's quite showy with his style, and you can tell he puts a lot of effort into his hairbun, too. But Satoru? Messy hair, in fact so messy that it looks like bed hair even though he did especially brush it and style it for you.
"Okay..." Satoru mumbles, typing things into his phone. Then he gives it to you, and you look at the screen.
飛行は乱気流でしたか? Was the flight turbulent?
You type your response. He watches you. And oh how he watches you — he looks lovestruck. His eyes are full of wonder. His mind reads like poetry.
He reads your reply when you hand him back his phone.
It was. I realized that I hate airplanes. そうでした。私は飛行機が嫌いだということに気づきました。
He nods. "Scary."
"Yeah." you nod too.
Satoru hesitates.
He's still bitter that Suguru got a hug and he didn't; it's on his mind. He just wants to ask you, but a deep-rooted shyness holds him back.
That is, until you look up at him.
あなたは私を見上げようとしてとても頑張っています。かわいい。 You're trying so hard to look up at me. Cute.
His whole body buzzes with the desire to hug you. He's had dreams of meeting you in person, of hugging you, of kissing you.
The two of you feel your bodies naturally pull together, as if subconsciously desiring to embrace, so it just happens. It just happens.
And you hug and he thinks to himself;
これは私が今まで経験した中で最高の瞬間です。 This is the best moment I've ever experienced.
You can feel his heartbeat and he can feel yours. For a moment, the world around you becomes a dream; and you and Satoru are the only things that truly exist. Everything in the world except your love seems fake, unreal.
You hear him swallow like he's choking up. Then he sniffles a bit.
泣かないで。泣かないで。 Don't cry. Don't cry.
くそー、泣いちゃうよ。彼女はとても柔らかいです Damn, I'm gonna cry. She's so soft.
And you break away to laugh sympathetically, he feels a bit embarrassed.
He's crying so softly that it makes your heart lurch.
Your bodies aren't separate for long, because he dives right back in for another hug in an attempt to quench the thirst from deep within his desirous soul. This time he squeezes tighter; you can feel the tones of his torso and the firmness of his bicep muscles as they press against your sides.
He sniffles again, the sound makes your heart lurch again.
あなたに言いたいことがたくさんあるのですが、どうやって伝えればいいのか分かりません。 There are so many things I want to say to you, but I don't know how.
でも、このハグで私の感情を感じていただければ幸いです。 But, I hope you can feel my emotions in this hug.
And you can; that's how closely connected the two of you feel in that moment. You can feel the emotions radiating from him, permeating throughout the air and seeping into your skin.
You can feel that he likes you. And he can feel that you like him back. It's fascinating to you, because before him you've always been saying I love you and I like you and will you date me? to people, or been on the receiving end of those phrases. But those words are unnecessary for you and Satoru. In fact, they're futile.
If he would say I love you, it would just be an accessory to his already evident love.
Then a sudden embarrassment pries the two of you apart, and you both start giggling to cope with it.
"Sorry... a bit much?" he mutters, half-sure of what he's saying.
"No, not enough." you tell him. He kinda understands what you meant, and feels fluttery. His nose is reddened from crying. He quickly pats his tears off with the base of his hand.
It's like your bodies hate being apart now, you and him can tell by each other's body language. Now at least that's one language both of you became fluent in, despite only being in each other's company for a few hours.
He looks at you. And you flick your brows up and make a funny face, as if to ask him what he's looking at. And he looks away with a bashful laugh, as if to apologize.
The romantic tension is so thick in the air between you two that when Suguru comes back, he feels it hit him like a wave.
おお。さっきまで彼女と一緒にいたとき、世界の存在を忘れていた。 Oh. When I was with her just a moment ago, I forgot the existence of the world.
"That cat is a menace. A menace." Suguru complains.
"What happened?" you ask.
" 'Got scratched." he holds up his hand, showing off the Hello Kitty adhesive across his knuckles. "Anyways, It's late. Are you tired? Satoru's gonna sleep with me, and you can have his room. Unless you want my room. I dunno. You can choose."
"Ooh... I haven't seen your room now that I think about it, except for that one video of you two pillow fighting."
Satoru's already starting to feel a small bit of jealousy and frustration, because he has no idea what you two are talking about.
Suguru's quick to notice this, and translates with a quick tongue.
"Tell her my bed's comfier than yours." Satoru says smirkingly.
"Wow, rude — Satoru says my bed is comfier than his." Suguru lies, refraining from laughing at his own mischievousness.
"Ah, I don't care, I'll be grateful for any bed... ah, actually can I use the bathroom to freshen up a bit?"
"Like I said, make yourself at home."
"Thanks..." you smile.
So Suguru leads the way to the bathroom for you, and you lock yourself in there to freshen up for a while. You sniff your shirt and smile — you smell Satoru's subtle scent on it.
The boys are fussing over the bed situation.
"Don't we have an extra futon stuffed away somewhere, the one Shoko left here?" Satoru thinks out loud.
"Ohhh, you're right." Suguru nods, looking for it.
"Anyways you embarrassed me!" Satoru pouts.
"Haha, did I?" Suguru pulls out the futon from the tippy-top shelf.
"Yeah, earlier you showed off how good you can speak English." Satoru grumbles.
They're softly grunting as they ruffle blankets and pillows.
"Oh, I guess I did. Sorry." he admits, "gosh, maybe if you would have learned a little something in preparation for her visiting then — "
"I did learn stuff! I learned... how to write." Satoru interrupts defensively.
"But why didn't you learn some common phrases?"
"I don't like my accent when I speak, alright." Satoru admits, huffing as he dives into the bed, ruining the artful neatness that Suguru just put so much effort into creating
"Okay, fair enough — oh my god, why would you do that, are you twelve? Oh hey, Y/n." Suguru smiles. "Satoru ruined your bed."
"Oh — two futons? Am I sharing with you or Satoru?"
Satoru rears his head at you from the pillow, looking very cat-like right then with his fluffy white hair. You can tell he's struggling to stay awake as the hour pushes onto two in the morning. He hasn't stayed up this late since he had a video game addiction and played all night with Suguru. Keeping his eyes open was a grand feat.
"No, you get to have two futons." Suguru teases, "Princess treatment."
"Haha, shut up. Be serious."
"Well, you can share with whoever you want or Satoru and I can sleep here together. Whatever you're more comfortable with."
"Didn't you once complain that you hate sharing beds with people?" you giggle.
"Mmm, yeah, but I don't mind if it's with you. Satoru's a cuddler. He also kicks in his sleep."
"That's so cute — well, let's ask — ... hey, I think Satoru fell asleep. Satoru?"
And surely enough, Satoru is asleep; he fell asleep to the sound of your voice without meaning to.
"He's not used to staying awake this late." Suguru tells you, softening his voice so he doesn't wake the cat Satoru.
"That's so sweet. He's really so sweet." you tilt your head admiringly.
You and Suguru are just alone there together, gushing over how cute Satoru looks when he has his cheek squishing into a pillow and his lips pouty and puffy in that sleep-like manner.
A long, nice silence settles in the room. You admit to Suguru that you're feeling a bit too wired to sleep just yet.
"I can stay up with you."
"No, it's okay. You look tired, you should sleep."
"I just always look tired. The night is early, anyways. I usually brood until four in the morning, you know me."
You smile at him, and he has to look away before he swoons. There's a small tension between the two of you, but the both of you force yourselves to ignore it.
The two of you assume a comfortable position on the futons, chatting as if you're not emotional about the fact there's no screen separating the two of you.
"Satoru's never been an insomniac, but in the week leading up to your arrival, he couldn't sleep at all. We'd stand in the kitchen together at midnight, talking about all the things we planned to do when you got here. I've never seen him so excited in a long time... it's really heartwarming to see."
"Really?" you blink at Suguru. He side-eyes you for a prolonged moment, then looks at Satoru who continues to sleep indisturbedly.
"Yeah. You know, he's such an idiot, actually. Because I told him to learn some phrases and instead he learned how to write English."
"That's a start! I mean, look at me, I can barely say a damn thing..." you mutter with lighthearted shame.
"Maybe that doesn't matter at all... I mean, with the kind of chemistry you and Satoru share, there's not much need for words." Suguru says.
You feel your face warm up a bit when he says that. "What do you mean?"
He wiggles his brows. "Oh come on, you know what I mean. I could feeeeel the tension in the kitchen earlier."
"Huh!"
He smirks and begins to tease, "I've never seen two people flirt so much and yet use no words."
You chuckle shyly. "Really...?" you look fondly at Satoru, who's become more curled up by now, face half-hidden under the blanket.
There's a long silence. You're looking at Satoru. Suguru's looking at you as if spellbound. And then he snaps out of it, and reanimates himself.
"Anyways... we should probably get some good sleep if we wanna drag you around on a tour tomorrow. I want your first impression of my home to be how good the food tastes here."
"Ooh, a food tour around Tokyo? Sounds nice. Won't it be too hot tomorrow, though?"
"It'll be fine." he says surely, "Anyways, are you sure you'll sleep here with Satoru? Like I said, he's a cuddler. He will cuddle you in your sleep."
"It's okay. I don't mind." You giggle.
"M'kay, goodnight then."
"Mhm, see you tomorrow." you say, standing with Suguru.
"Wow." he suddenly exclaims when he looks at you.
"Hm?"
Suguru stops on his way out the door, he seems taken aback. "I can't believe you're actually right here. I'm so used to pressing a red button and you vanishing from my screen." he laughs in disbelief.
"Yeah, I'm still a bit in disbelief, too. I feel like I'm in a dream and not standing right in front of you."
Suguru smirks. "Mm... well."
He leans down to hug you, pressing your smaller body against his chest with a lovingness that you never envisioned he would possess.
"Have you ever tried to hug someone in a dream? It's pretty difficult." he jokes.
"N-no, haha." you chuckle nervously against his neck. He feels your laughter on his skin, and pulls away before he lets that tingly feeling spread across his chest.
"Goodnight." he murmurs.
"Goodnight." you mumble back.
You're glad when he disappears into his own room, because you felt like you were melting in his alluring presence. A boy as sultry as that requires you to take a breather.
Satoru draws your attention by letting out a sigh in his sleep. You head into the bed.
Though there's a distance between you two, somehow it closes, and Satoru rolls right over onto your futon.
Oh, he is indeed a cuddler, you think. You feel a warm arm suddenly hugging your waist as Satoru changes position, and you hear sleepy lip smacks; his face is very close. You can feel his sweet, warm breath on your face.
There's a comforting, human intimacy about sharing a bed with him. He's so gentle when he sleeps. His hair falls over his eyes, his lashes shudder as his eyes do that sleepy twitching thing.
He looks angelic.
You wonder what dreams he's having. And well, actually he's having dreams of kissing you. How coincidental that you were staring blinkingly at his pouty lips, wondering just how long it will take for the both of you to just — just kiss.
Roaming his features in the dark, you find aspects of his beauty that you never saw before through the screen. He's got a tiny scar above his eyebrow, that must be the one Suguru told you about — the one he got as a child when he fell out of a tree. You remember making a joke "but I thought cats always land on their feet?" and when Suguru translated that, Satoru laughed.
There's slight freckling under his eyes, and slight indents of eyebags stemming from the inner corner of his eye.
And yes, how could you not admire those lashes. They were more beautiful in person. You could count each one if you wanted to, that's how closely he slept to you.
Listening to his soft breaths nearly lulls you to sleep, but then he suddenly cuddles closer and whines in his dream.
Oh, that's close close, you think.
His torso is pressing completely against your side, his body melting into yours like it was made for you. Two puzzle pieces meant to fit together.
His leg comes over yours, and his muscular thigh nestles between your two thighs. It makes you aware of just how attractively long his legs are.
He completely entrapped you with his sleepy embrace.
The warmth of his gentle breathing tickles your cheek, and the tip of his nose slightly dents into your skin. Now that's when you fall asleep. When he's completely melted against you, snuggled up like a cat.
He stirs awake after a few hours of heavy sleep, and for a split second in that groggy wakeful mind fog, for some reason he thinks he's laying next to his wife. So he squeezes you tenderly and cuddles more affectionately.
Oops, he thinks, and pulls away a little out of embarrassment. But once he falls back into dream land, his body subconsciously goes right back in for those sleepy cuddles.
Now the morning dawns over, and you wake up to two bleary, blinking blue eyes right up close to your face...
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