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#and I wouldn’t be able to make it like detailed?
purrassicjet · 10 hours
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I can’t find the post but a while ago you made a post about Jawbone not being able to show his anger due to the way people see/fear werewolves and Sandra Lynn showing it for him.
With the fucking Bobby reveal I just keep thinking about it Jawbone having to know the kind of details he knows about how this man likely manipulated and abused someone barely old enough not to be a student at the school. Jawbone constantly having to talk himself down from wanting to rip the man limb from limb by reminding himself that if Bobby tries that shit again that student will need him just as much as Sandra Lynn does
(Also, just Sandra-Lynn breaking down at Mordrid finding out he’s back in town and Lydia just offering to take Ragh and the two of them to murder him in the middle of the night since she’s not his coworker and wouldn’t have to worry about it being obvious.)
I have this post in my drafts about Jawbone's behavior changing post finding out that Bobby Dawn was the one who did that to his partner.
How he used to respond politely to conversation with strained smiles and curt words, but wouldn't even look at him after. How his lip curls whenever he walks into the room. How he refuses to look him in the eyes, nor speak to him at all. How he never talks about Sandra Lynn anymore, and when asked about her, he just replies with a curt "she's fine" and won't elaborate.
Somehow, the silence is more chilling. The glancing daggers over the staff room over the lunch she prepared for him.
He puts extra care into the cleric students after that, asking careful questions to make sure they aren't being abused as she was.
(Lydia and Ragh killing him in the middle of the night is so perfect too. Like yeah, get his fucking ass. Two barbarians very protective of their families, sneaking up on this bitchass man when he least expects it)
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xonavia · 2 days
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can you do a Dan Heng x fem! reader?
to elaborate: fem! reader is a famous singer — an interastral one, to be precise. she lives in Penacony and once in a year, she hosts this enormous party where you are able to do how flashy the lights are from the Astral Express. on Dan Heng’s side, he was only able to experience it once and got interested as to what it was, doing research and the more he did the research, the more he fell in love with the idol. now, for this year, with the Trailblazer who had managed to become one of the fem! reader’s bodyguards due to what was happening in Penacony with the deaths that were so random and sudden. not only that, the Trailblazer managed to become a trusted friend and they knew how much of a fan Dan Heng was since they managed to accidentally access Dan Heng’s tabs on the databank so to make it fair for him, they managed to get a free ticket into the VIP — front row seats, too! and to be able to get an autograph after.
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-> I’m not entirely sure if this is what you meant, but I did try my best so if it’s not quite what you wanted just lmk and I’ll try to rewrite it to the best of my abilities!!
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It was only once every year this happened, an interastral idol, (Name), would perform in Penacony. That was all the news was talking about the moment the astral express stepped inside penacony, of course, March being hip and knowing all the famous idols was so excited that right as they arrived was time for the yearly party and begged for them to go, but with the whole issue happening in penacony it didn’t seem like now would be the best time. But Dan Heng, still on the express, was confused as hell. What was with all the lights and sounds, he thought penacony was going through a crisis, not a party? It wasn’t until a couple days later when everybody else came back that he had figured out that it was a annual party, he didn’t think much of it until he had March blab about how much cool merch and stuff she saw in the stores how she got to witness the set up of the whole party, but to her demise never actually got to see the host. March talked about them in a way that was almost magical. Nothing bad, and it seemed like this “host” was almost like the nicest person in the galaxy? That’s what first got Dan Heng into his records to see what he could find out about you. It wasn’t long before he found some really interesting details about you, a picture, when the party took place every year, where it was, and anything along the lines if you had a partner, ya know, just for future reference!
Another year later the Astral Express was back in penacony, with more deaths and more issues, and ironically enough around the exact same time they were here the year before. Though this time it was about the party. As it was an annual party most of the people who were in town at the time were there for said party and if the party was canceled due to the issues people would start getting scared and the family would have to explain what was happening, which is the worst case scenario. So instead they invited the astral express back over and had the trailblazer act as a bodyguard for (Name) as it seemed one of the other hosts wouldn’t be there and they thought it was a plot to take out the party all together. Better safe than sorry. March was so excited when she realized that the trailblazer was able to actually meet one of the best people in the galaxy. Dan Heng was excited as well, but not like you could ever tell. He’d been reading up on you anytime he had the chance, he knew a lot about you and was very happy when he realized that they were able to go back to Penacony, not so much about all the issues that were happening, or the potential plot on your life.
A couple days later, and about a day before the party the trailblazer came back to the astral express he saw both March and Dan Heng sat on one of the couches watching the party from the year they were here last. They chuckled a little as they walked over, asking about what they were watching which March happily responded with
“The party from last year! I just found out that Dan Heng is actually a pretty big fan of (name)!”
Of course the trailblazer already knew that, they had been up a couple times and accidentally stumbled on Dan Heng researching about the party, and more specifically about you.
Trailblazer sat down with the other two and talked about how since (Name) had a couple extra tickets for friends and stuff and how they were already so grateful for them watching over them and making sure to keep them safe that now the astral express had 3 VIP tickets for the Party for the next day. March already started squealing, and pretty sure that they saw Dan Heng smile at the sight of the tickets.
The next day was the day of the party, and as packed as it was there was a small section that (Name) had told the trailblazer about when they gave them the tickets that were for VIP only so they wouldn’t have to wait in that huge line! But when they got into that section it led them straight to the front row. How freaking cool!
A couple hours after, the hosts and main people in charge were all walking around when you ran over towards the trailblazer, noticing them in the crowd and coming to say Hi, and thanks, again. When you walked over, March was awestruck at the sight of you right in front of her, and quickly asked for a picture to which you happily accepted and posed with her before the trailblazer realized that no way in hell would Dan heng every actually ask for something from you, so they took charge in their own hands by asking an autograph from you, which you of course were pleased to do, handing it to them with a smile, before you were pulled away again by one of the security guards, waving bye, before turning your attention to some of the other guests.
When they got back on the astral express, they all seemed really excited, well besides Dan Heng, but it’s hard to see through his facial features, but the way he was ever so carefully holding the sighed piece of paper from you, said a lot differently.
He was just hoping next year the astral express would come back, and maybe he could talk to you himself this time
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sixeyescurseuser · 15 hours
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part 1
Geto is slowing down. He begins engaging in conversation with Gojo, allowing the sorcerer to get within arms length of him. 
Geto works up the nerve to ask, “How do you know where I am all the time?”
Gojo shrugs.  “I can smell you.”
“EH?” Geto raises an arm and smells his armpit. "But I’m a curse. I don’t...produce a scent.”
Gojo shrugs again. “You do to me.”
Geto’s eye twitches.
“Okay, well. I gotta go - nice talking to you BYE!” he says while fleeing once again.
Not even a week later, they meet again during night time, in an open field, where the moon hangs high up in the air. 
Geto perches on a tree branch while Gojo sits on the ground, laying against the tree. Strangely enough, Gojo hasn’t struck up another conversation since joining Geto in his peaceful spot to rest. 
Geto decides to be social this time around. 
“The moon is beautiful tonight,” he quietly comments. 
“Oh, is it?”
Geto glares down at Gojo, the sorcerer obviously noticing the heated look from his companion. Sure, Gojo is blindfolded, but he stated that his six eyes are still powerful enough to perceive his surroundings in great detail.
Shouldn’t he be able to see how bright the moon is?
“Yes, it’s a full moon,” Geto says. “I usually don’t slow down enough to appreciate it.”
Gojo hums, as if in agreement. He tilts his chin up to face towards the curse above him. 
“I see something else that’s beautiful tonight too, but it’s certainly not the moon,” Gojo murmurs softly.
Geto sighs. “Why are you still following me?” In lieu of an answer, Gojo goes from sitting at the base of the tree to sitting on the branch next to Geto’s in the blink of an eye. Geto gasps, turning his gaze away in fear of unleashing his powers on the sorcerer, even though Gojo still wears his blindfold. 
“I follow you because I enjoy your company,” Gojo responds, lacking the usually teasing tone he has when pursuing Geto in their game of tag. “It’s less lonely, isn’t it?”
Somehow, Geto’s cheeks heat up. First, being indirectly complimented for his beauty (whether Gojo could truly see him or not), and second, acknowledging they’ve been sharing a sense of companionship for the past few weeks. 
Gojo Satoru is certainly a force to be reckoned with. 
Geto just hopes he doesn’t get burned in the process. 
***
Gojo finds Geto beyond endearing. The drawings of Geto in history books depict him to be much scarier and violent. 
But he was human too. And Gojo feels this every time he manages to cross paths with the tired curse. Frankly, Gojo wouldn’t be surprised if most of the information in history books are mere rumors that conceal the truth. 
Making Geto out to be something he really is not. 
Well, if he plays his cards right, Gojo will hopefully be able to uncover that truth, and see Geto in the way Gojo himself wishes to be seen. 
When Gojo reveals who exactly the strong and resilient partner he’s taken a liking to, Shoko can only sigh while lighting a new cigarette.
Shoko: “I can't say I’m surprised.”
***
The first time they kiss, they’re sitting together on a bench in the quiet section of a park surrounded by flowers in bloom. This is the first touch of affection Geto has ever experienced, always used and abused when he lived as a sorcerer and hated as a curse. 
However, Gojo’s hand tenderly cups his jaw, guiding their lips together in languid kisses that part with wet smacking noises-
“Fuck! That hurt!” Gojo yelps while pulling away. 
Geto’s snakes, being the biggest haters of their budding relationship, keep biting Gojo’s forehead. Geto scolds his snakes in an angry whisper. 
“Stop it! This is a good thing! Don’t ruin this for me,” Geto says. The snakes respond in their own unique ways. 
“Sorcerer, show us your eyes - just one peek!”
“KILL HIM.”
“Geto-san, I’m hungry~~”
One lone snake actually takes a liking to Gojo and scents his cheek with a flick of the tongue. 
Despite Geto’s occasional embarrassment of his snakes’ behavior, Gojo finds them cute anyway.
***
Gojo and Geto decide on a secluded cottage for Geto to live in. With money and status not being an issue, Gojo took care of furnishing the cottage and land ownership. 
Gojo also has barriers in place so no one - non-sorcerers OR sorcerers - will bother Geto. Gojo insists it’s the least Geto deserves considering the circumstances in how they met. 
Geto wants to cry because he hasn’t even told Gojo half of the shit he’s been through. Yet, Gojo is offering the peace Geto has so desperately craved all his life, right here on a silver platter. 
Better yet, a peace without eternal loneliness. 
Geto is still scared of wandering out by himself because of his powers, so Geto keeps himself busy inside the cottage.
Gojo visits when he can, usually every couple of days. Like a cat who’s been waiting for its owner to come home, Geto greets Gojo with a long kiss. Over time, Geto’s snakes have also come to love Gojo, and they too will place kisses all over Gojo’s face when the lovers are close. 
Gojo makes sure to bring back dozens of treats for Geto to try. Geto’s tastebuds are nowhere near what they used to be, but he giddily accepts the bland food that’s been provided with love and care.
Geto versus technology is an entertaining phenomenon. He’s a curse from the ancient times, and there hasn’t been an opportunity to learn the new ways of mobile devices or the internet. 
Geto picks up texting the quickest, though he uses formal grammar in dense paragraphs and puts a period after each sentence. 
Gojo sends Geto lots of funny videos, to which Geto responds with: “Ha. Ha. Ha. Ha.”
Gojo types back :“so harsh, suguru!🥹”
Geto: “I laughed though.”
Gojo: “yes you did, my dear🥰”
***
w/ @no-one-says-hi
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crow-cap · 3 months
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edit: THANKS EVERYONE FOR THE INTEREST!! I’m opening these today, please see my pinned post for more info
I’m aware I don’t have many followers, but I’d like to offer something where if you make a donation towards Palestine you can get a drawing from me! Anything helps, from a dollar or two to larger donations.
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akkivee · 9 months
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not the tear mark on hitoya’s whiskey bottle 😭😭😭
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i had a dream last night where i was trying to put together a piece for an art final in one afternoon (because apparently i was taking an art class? i kept having lucid moments of hey i’m not even taking a real art class but i was content to still do the project) and actually i remember very clearly what i was planning and i have all the stuff for it i think i should recreate the dream art final piece
#i was doing a giant collage and i was cutting up bits of colorful + textured paper and running them through a printer over and over#again so that the words were overlapping to make an interesting texture and i was moving them around to make an image and i don’t#remember exactly what it looked like but it was an underwater scene and i can remember a few of the fish and coral structures in relative#detail so i think i’m gonna do it why not i do not have a big enough canvas (it was bigger than me in my dream) but i do have some#30in x 40in canvases (originally bought for giant self portraits of me bc i’m vain lmao) but perhaps one could be spared for this?#i also do have a giant sketchbook but i’m unsure if the paper could hold the weight of what i’ll need to do to it. hmmm#i also have a wall….. but i think i was only granted permission to paint over it smoothly and i hate painting smooth i need texture and i#doubt glued paper would be easy to take off if needed. sad. i really do want to do something to a wall some day. maybe i should just build#myself a giant canvas so it can be moved? it would have to be able to fit through the door though :/#what about a bunch of smaller canvasses that slot together to fill the whole wall? that would be kinda cool i can work with that#maybe not for this project though that would be a lot of work bc if i’m gonna do a whole ass wall i’ll need to measure it n shit and then#i wouldn’t want the canvases to fit as squares i’d want them to be cool and interesting shapes so i’d have to build them myself#hmmmmmmmm. i will think about that later perhaps when i get my own place . it will be epic though i assure you#so i can add some supports to my giant sketchbook paper to keep it sturdier or perhaps i could use a giant canvas. decisions decisions#i will think abt it after i get her up how much colored/printed paper i have (a lot bc i get some every time they’re on sale at micheals#because i have a problem) and i should cut them all to like 8x11 so they’ll slot through the printer so i can cut them up after?#or perhaps i will cut them up before so i can get the vision right? there will be a lot of layers to this i know the pov of the one in my#dream was from the sea floor but near a reef so i will need to work on perspective a bit so maybe a nice big preparatory sketch for a rough#placement of everything then extra details i can come up with as i go? the fish and things will need to be layered a lot but once the base#colors are on i can’t really sketch it out. hmmmmm. i’ll contemplate some more i think
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toomuchdickfort · 2 months
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I keep seeing jokes like ‘I’d be so scared to be seen with the mind blown achievement’ like are y’all not going for it for the sillies? Can’t even monsterfuck a little for the bit?? Damn
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gojonanami · 2 months
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❝ 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐃𝐑𝐄𝐖 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐒 𝐀𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐃 𝐌𝐘 𝐒𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐒 (𝐁𝐔𝐓 𝐍𝐎𝐖 𝐈'𝐌 𝐁𝐋𝐄𝐄𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐆) ❞
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❝ PROF. GETO IS SO HOT AND NOW HE’S A DEPARTMENT HEAD !! ❞
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✧ pairing: professor!geto x f!reader (part four of the prof geto series)
✧ summary: you and suguru enter a new phase in your relationship— long distance. the two of you work hard to keep your relationship alive and well — but what happens when distance and work starts to weigh on your time together?
✧ warnings: 18+, nsfw, smut , fluff, but also angst depictions of student/teacher relationship (only ok in fiction not irl!!!), reader is a grad student, but age is vague, long distance relationship, phone sex, shower sex, fingering (f! receiving), handjob (m! receiving), oral (f! + m! receiving), sex (p in v), creampie, amateur's take on moral philsophy and ethics, yuta appears *gasp*, fanart found on pinterest (if anyone knows the og artist, pls let me know)
✧ wc: 14,288 | part one | part two | part three
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“Baby,” you murmur, pressing a kiss to his cheek, “c’mon, you have to wake up, we can’t be late,” your boyfriend groans, pulling the covers over his head, and you giggle, gently tugging at the comforter held taut over his head.
“No,” he’s murmuring, as you roll your eyes, “a few more minutes,”
“A few minutes for you will turn into a few hours,” you chuckle, as your fingers finally find the inside of the comforter.
And you’re finally able to pull it off, Suguru’s long locks askew as his pretty obsidian eyes flutter half open, and your lips curl.
How did you get so lucky?
Your fingers run over his cheek, before you press a kiss to his forehead, “C’mon Mr. Department Head, you’re going to be late at this rate — you have to get the keys to your new apartment today and you have a meeting with the staff too,”
Suguru groans, his lips in a rare pout — mornings were truly his most vulnerable times, “Does it have to be today?” He draws close to you, burying his face in your neck, and your fingers slowly rake through his locks, gently easing the knots that formed in the night.
“Unfortunately yes,” you murmur, your fingers tucking a few locks behind his ear, “but I’ll be visiting you in two weeks, it will pass by quick,” it did feel like forever — but you knew it wouldn’t be. The summer would end one way or another and now he was leaving for Kyoto — officially three weeks before classes start, “and we’ll be spending the whole week together — we can explore a little more than we got to before,”
“I know,” he still is surely unconvinced, moving back to look up at you with certifiably the cutest purse of his lips, his warm hand finding your cheek, “but then why does every minute without you feel so much longer?”
Your lips find his in a lazy kiss, your hand sliding to the nape of his neck, his soft locks brushing against your knuckles, “But that will make the minutes we do spend together that much more special, right?”
He hums, pressing his forehead against yours, “how are you so positive about this?” And you sigh, your nose bumping against his, as you press a chaste kiss to his lips again.
“Because it’s the only way I can not completely break down,” you sigh, and his arms wrap around you, pulling you back into his embrace, your head resting on his chest, heart thudding nearly right under your ear, “what time do you have to leave?”
He glances at his phone, “not for another two hours,” and you curl up, fingers sliding against his smooth skin.
“Then a few more minutes wouldn’t hurt,” you murmur.
And you’d take any minute that you could get with him, especially now.
~~~
“Do you have everything?” Suguru never knew quite how much you could fuss over him, until the last few days. You seemed to obsess over every detail — his credentials, his electronics, his clothes — it’s as if you wanted everything squared away — and you simply couldn’t focus on anything else.
Because, you probably didn’t want to.
“I do, I have everything — I have things I didn’t need that you put in the car,” you pout as he chuckles, and he can’t help but lean in and kiss the pout from your lips, “I’ll be okay, I’ll call you as soon as I get there,” he murmurs, “can you pack yourself up and get in the car? Then I’ll really have everything I need,”
You blink rapidly, as if to ward off tears, as you can’t quite meet his gaze, “I wish I could,” you murmur, as your arms wrap around him, and his do the same, pulling you into a tight hug, “how am I going to survive the next two weeks without you?”
“It’s just two weeks right? Like you said it will pass by quick—“
You shake your head, “I just said that to make you feel better,” you look up at him, glassy eyed, “I changed my mind, stay here,” you whine, and he laughs, running his fingers through your hair.
“Think it’s a little late for that sweetheart,” he sighs, his fingers sliding under your chin, “after all, you packed up the rest of my things into my car, so unless I’m living out of it—“
“Yeah, yeah,” you mutter, as you rub your eyes, and he pulls your hands away gently, kissing your tears away, “I’ll miss you so much,”
“Not as much as me,” and you lean up to kiss him, a sweet kiss that only leaves him aching for more. Why was it the more he had of you — the more he always needed? He knew these first two weeks would be the hardest, but honestly, he’s not sure if it would ever get easier.
Because he needs you. Always.
“Ah wait,” you smile, reaching into your pocket, “you forgot one thing—” and you pull out a key, and he tilts his head, “it’s a key to my place,”
And he blinks, “You don’t—”
“I want to,” you kiss him again, even softer somehow, “please take it,” so he does, as you place the piece of metal into his palm, “plus, it’s practical, if I’m not around, you can let yourself in,”
“Make myself comfortable?” his lips quirk.
“Very comfortable,” you press your forehead to his again, “Go,” you murmur, you pull away reluctantly, his body already mourning the loss of your touch, your fingers still intertwined, “otherwise, I’ll just block your car with my body to get you to stay,”
He rolls his eyes, smile pulling at the corner of his mouth, “I’d like to see that,” he presses his forehead to yours, “promise you’ll stop me from ever accepting a job that makes me be away from you for any amount of time again?”
“Now that’s a promise I’ll keep,” you squeeze his fingers one last time, “I think it’s what’s owed to us isn’t it?”
He knows he would never be able to repay what he owes you for everything you’ve done for him — how happy you’ve made him—
“It is,” he smiles, one last kiss to your lips, as he slips into the driver’s seat before he can change his mind.
—But he would try.
~~~
When you go back to your apartment — it feels far too empty. Even though Suguru didn’t live with you — it felt as if he had made a place for himself here, and he had, but he had left it. For now, you remind yourself. His place would be here for him, when he came back.
But it turned out two weeks was a lot of time to kill when you still hadn’t started classes — your days filled with nothing but time for you to spend. None of your friends from class had made it back yet either — so you were stuck trying to find things to do. Suguru was busier than expected — dragged to meeting after meeting and showed off more than a show dog to the department’s professors, alumni, and donors. Suguru often fell asleep on the phone with you, his soft snores filling your ears, as you fell asleep along with him.
And you couldn’t help but wonder if all semester would be like this — especially once his classes started. You understood — you did — this is what you signed up for and it was far from Suguru’s fault. But you couldn’t help but miss him. And that wasn’t surprising — but what was surprising was how much you missed him.
Your bed was bought for one, but now it felt empty with only you occupying it — a cold barren front without your usual refuge in his arms. And the days weren’t bad — you found things to keep you busy — but the evenings and weekends that you usually had spent with Suguru dragged like a child dragged their feet at the grocery store — reluctantly and without patience.
So maybe you needed to do the same that you’d do for a restless child — a distraction.
“Do you know of any organizations I could join?” You had asked Suguru on one of your video call dinner dates — and he hummed thoughtfully as he picked up soba noodles between his chopsticks, “I just feel like I need something to fill my time,”
“The semester hasn’t even started and you’re already thinking about other things to do?” He raises an eyebrow, and you suppress a giggle at the sight of a bit of the soup that remained on the side of his chin. The very same you wished that you could thumb away for him, “my favorite student is as ambitious as always,”
“Your girlfriend is even more so,” you roll your eyes, as you gesture to your own face to signal, and he wipes his, “c’mon, I know my favorite professor must have something to recommend. I know how he looooves to give me suggestions,”
And he snorts, setting his chopsticks down on his bowl as he finishes his meal, “Then I suggest you think about joining the student government — they have a specific section for graduate students and professors, it would be a good opportunity for you to branch out, and put the philosophy department’s brightest on the map,”
Your lips curl at the compliment, “you think I’m the brightest?”
“I was talking about myself,” and you roll your eyes, as he smirks at you, as he picks up his phone and his dishes to clean up, “I think it would be perfect. Why don’t you speak to Yaga about it? He was trying to goad me into recommending some students,”
“So this really is self-serving, huh?” the water of the sink runs in the background, as you do the same, placing your dishes in the sink — tomorrow’s problem — as you washed your hands, “what would I even know about student government anyway?”
“Philosophy has a lot to do with governance, you know that — Cicero, Plato, Aquinas, Machiavelli—“
“Saving the most benevolent philosopher for last,” and you can hear him chuckle, as the water squeaks shut, and he picks up his phone, a smile playing on his lips, “do you think I could help?”
“I think you can do anything, sweetheart, except get a 100% in my class,” and you gape at him, as he laughs, and your heart aches for that sound, more than you thought was possible, “you should do it, what’s stopping you?”
And you bite your lip — yes, you wanted to be busier, but you didn’t want to be too busy for this. To spend time with Suguru — no matter how little it was. But you knew it would be good for you — for both of you. The last thing you wanted was to be needy — even if this week was proving that you were needier than you thought you were.
“Nothing I guess,” you sigh, as you make your way to your bedroom, “I’ll email Professor Yaga in the morning,”
“Good,” Suguru is sat on his bed as well now, his phone propped up, “and your boyfriend has another suggestion,” and you raise an eyebrow, “I suggest my favorite student brings my favorite t-shirt with them when they come to visit me,”
You gasp in mock shock, “You gave this shirt to me,”
“No, I asked you where it was and you said you packed it already, but I see you pilfered it away when I wasn’t looking,” he tilts his head, “now take it off,”
“Professor, that’s not a proper way for a department head to speak to a student,” you still let the shirt ride up as you lean back against your pillows, “have you not gotten your ethics training yet about appropriate behavior?”
“That’s interesting, you didn’t seem to mind last night when you asked me to send you a very improper picture of my lower half fresh out of the shower,” and you can’t help the giggle that escapes your lips, but your expression grows more serious.
“So it’s all about quid pro quo, Professor?” you sigh exaggeratedly, before pulling the shirt off, “I’ll take it off, but how about if you let me keep it, I’ll give you something else?”
God, you know that look in his eye, and you just wished he could do what he wanted — his fingers would find your waist and your back, pulling you quick and eager into his lap — his hard-on pressing through the thin material of his sweatpants he wore around the apartment.
“And what would that be?” And the shirt finally up and over, a soft gasp leaving his lips at the sight of your bare body, only your shorts left on. You smile.
“Me, of course,” and he’s adjusting his phone, face up, a small groan leaving his lips, “sir?”
“Is that all you’re offering, sweetheart?” and you hear the slight shuffle of fabric, “because that shirt is quite special to me,”
You roll your eyes, a smile tugs at your lips as you see him come back into focus with his phone in hand, his eyes drifting from your eyes to your chest and back, “Is it?”
“If you remove your clothes, I’ll forgive this small transgression,” and his other hand is out of sight, no doubt stroking himself, though you were no better, fingers toying with your cunt through your drenched panties.
“I think that price might be too high, Professor— you might have to give me something in return,” you smile, toying with the elastic of your shorts, and he bites his lip, gaze heavy even through the screen of your phone.
“And what do you want, princess?”
“I thought it was obvious,” as you slip off your shorts, propping up your phone on the pillow designated usually for him, nothing else underneath, “I want you.”
“Fuck,” he’s hissing, as you can hear the distinct sound of the squelch of his hand running up and down his cock, “sweetheart, do you have any idea what you’re doing to me?”
And your fingers are teasing your wet folds, imagining it was his own, his thick fingers sinking into one by one, he’d fill you so much better than you do — “show me, Suguru,” He does, flipping the camera to show his erection — flushed red and pretty — beads of pre-cum dripping from the tip, “all this just for me?” And your fingers push past your entrance, a gasp leaving your lips, “my fingers aren’t enough for me, Sugu—“
“show me now, let me tell you how to fuck yourself,” and you’re nodding, hand shaking as you flip the camera around to show your fingers notched inside, gleaming with your pre, dripping down your knuckles, “move,” and you do, slowly at first, and his hand moves too, starting to fuck his fist, “faster, curl your fingers just like I would,” and you do, a whine leaving your lips, “good girl,” he grunts.
The sounds of both of your pants and moans fill your ears, your eyes fluttering open to watch him touch himself, “Tease the tip for me, baby,” you murmur, fucking yourself deeper, when you see him thumb his slit, “wish I could taste you, suck you off, until you’re cumming down my—“
“Princess—“ you know he’s close by the way his dick twitches in his fingers and the way his lips moan your name, “add another finger,” and you do — fuck, the stretch is nothing like his cock, but you can almost imagine it is, “I’m sure you’ve gotten tight without me to fuck you — have you been touching yourself when I’m not around?” You bite your lip, your hesitation was all the answer he needed, “what do you think about?”
“Think about you,” you’re fucking close too, your fingers drenched in your own precum, “think about you coming back, about you kissing me at the door before pinning me against it,” And he’s groaning, the sounds of his hand pumping his cock ringing in your ears, you can’t hang on— “Suguru—please—“
“Be a good girl, and cum for me, sweetheart,” and you do, your toes curling and eyes squeezing shut as you do, phone slipping from your fingers, as you hear him groan too, the distinct sound of his cum splattering against his sheets.
You both come down from your highs, pulling your fingers from your cunt, grabbing tissues from your bedside table to wipe off your hands.
“Sugu?” You pick up your phone, and your boyfriend does the same, his cheeks flushed a gorgeous red, slightly more rumpled than before. And you can’t help but wish you could lean over and kiss him as you would, running your fingers through his hair, “I miss you,”
He sighs, gaze filled with affection and longing, “I miss you too, so much — you have no idea, princess,” as you tug his shirt back on, and you lie back, turning on your side, “just one more week,”
“I’m counting the days,” you murmur
“I’m counting the seconds,” and you snort, his lips curled in the damned smile that dragged you into his mess.
“Always have to one up me don’t you?” you bury your nose in the fabric of the shirt, the scent still very distinctly him.
“It is my job after all,” and you smile, “I love you,”
“I love you too,” but you know where this is going — as it always did almost every weekday night.
“I should hang up — I have to clean up and—“
“Review for meetings before bed, I know,” you finish and he raises an eyebrow, “very predictable, Professor Geto,”
“I’ll work on that — watch, I’ll surprise you,” and you chuckle, but you can’t help but frown, “what is it?” and you shake your head, “sweetheart,” and you know he won’t let it go.
“Just call me after you’re done, before bed, okay?” you sit up, glancing at your shorts on the floor, shifting uncomfortably with the wetness between your thighs, “I have to change my shorts and my sheets,”
“You’re welcome,” and you roll your eyes, his lips curled in a small smile reserved just for you, “love you, sweetheart.”
“I love you too,” the call ends, and you’re left looking at your lock screen, a sigh caught in your throat.
Just one more week.
~~~
You stood before the door of one of the university's conference rooms — on one of the floors you did not tend to frequent. You spent most of your time in the classrooms if not the library — but you had attended a few meetings up here for one reason or another. But this was the first time you were walking into a room in quite a long time that you didn’t know anyone.
The student government met once before the semester started — a getting to know you forum for new members, such as yourself. There was no real formal election process for your position as senator — as long as other students were not vying for the position. And luckily for you, no other philosophy graduate student had chosen to volunteer for this entirely optional and unpaid position — a mystery really.
But the nerves still remained — though there was nothing more to do than enter. So you did — opening the door and finding the room filled with quite a few faces, but none of them familiar. You took a seat in a relatively empty section, but adjacent to enough faces, an empty seat on either side of you. The people around you chatted, while you pulled a notebook and pen out — your phone face down on the table, before you grab it and shoot Suguru a quick text.
You: in my first student government meeting! wish me luck!!
The meeting started without much formalities — a simple round table introduction that had you close to going last, but you had a chance to learn more about the other graduate students — most of them were students representing different departments, as you were, while there was also the traditional roles of president, vice president, secretary, and treasurer.
Eyes slid to you now, the president gesturing to you, her name escaping you, “And our newest member,”
They finally turned to you as you waved to the group, introducing yourself by name, “I’m a graduate student in the philosophy department, I’m a third year in the program, and I heard about the group from my department head—”
“Professor Geto?” one of the girls piped up, a literature graduate student who you didn’t recognize, but you were sure had taken Suguru’s class or at least had heard about him.
You shook your head, forcing a polite smile on your lips, “Professor Yaga actually told me about it,” she nods, and the president claps her hands together.
“Alright, this meeting is just to mingle and get to know each other, so please enjoy the refreshments and food provided,” and her eyes flicker down, “I think we’re only missing one person from the group—”
And the door bursts open, “Sorry, sorry! I didn’t mean to run late—” a student with dark black hair that rested past his chin, bangs that framed his face on either side, and a small smile on his lips.
“Students keep you again, Yuta?” the president asks, and the dark haired boy known as Yuta slipped into the room, and took a seat beside you, sighing with a nod, as he set down his things, “good timing, you can help our newest member get acclimated,”
His eyes flicker to you, a smile pulling at his lips, “I’d be happy to,” and the group begins to get up to grab food and refreshments, as Yuta offers you his hand, “I’m Yuta Okkotsu, it’s nice to meet you.”
~~~~
“I hope you stay a part of the organization,” your eyes snap up at Yuta’s words — a curious look on his face, “you just seemed a little overwhelmed in there,” he tilts his head, as the two of you walk towards the metro station, “I may be wrong, but—”
“No I was,” for someone who looked so…innocent, he was really observant — his dark eyes felt like they could pierce right through you — even if he wouldn’t let them do so, “it was a lot — I’ve never been a part of a formal structure like this so it was just a lot—”
“It’s not as formal as you think — the proceedings do drag on but Maki, the president, tends to skip the formalities for the most part — she’s as bored of them as you are,” he chuckles, his fingers adjusting the strap of his backpack slung loosely over one shoulder, “usually the meetings don’t take very long — the events mostly take up our time when it comes to planning and organizing, but we hold a couple in conjunction with other organizations so that helps take the load off,” he explains, “we also organize issues important to the students to present to the president of the university quarterly, so we tend to have more meetings around that time, but we schedule the meetings after midterms, and after finals, so it doesn’t interfere with studying,” and then he catches himself, rubbing the back of his neck, “sorry, I’m going on and on, I should have just asked you if you had questions instead,”
“No, it was really helpful, Yuta,” you smile, “you’re very thorough,” and you don’t notice how a faint flush appears across his cheeks.
“I was new last year to the organization, and I remember being really overwhelmed — the professor I usually T.A. for roped me into it, he’s been away on research for the last year or so, but I stayed apart of it, because,” he shrugged, a smile on his lips, “I made some really good friends, and I hope you do too,”
You pull out your phone, no reply from Suguru, a small sigh on your lips — it’s fine, he’s busy, “Good friends are exactly what I need right now I think,” you check the time — Suguru wouldn’t be out of meetings for dinner at this rate, “do you want to grab dinner? I know a good ramen spot not far from here,”
“Sounds great,” and you led the way, not noticing the way Yuta’s eyes lingered on you a second too long, before he started to follow you, keeping pace beside you.
A week would pass by quick.
~~~
“What time will you be here?” Suguru asked, as you had him on your laptop this time on video call to watch you pack for the couple days you were spending with him before the semester started.
“I’m taking the 8:00 AM train, so I’ll get there probably by 10:15, so like two hours,” you weren’t sure how much to pack — you didn’t want to do a ton of laundry right before classes started, but you weren’t sure what you wanted to wear, “can you come here pack for me and go back?”
He snorts, “I’ll be right over, but at that point, wouldn’t it be more conducive for me to just stay with you?”
“But I want to come see you,” you pout, and he shrugs, as his eyes flicker up from his work.
“Then you’re going have to pack,” and you give a heavy sigh, continuing to choose what clothes to take. Your phone goes off and it’s a text from Yuta;
Yuta: hey! are you free next week to get dinner after the meeting? But this time I’m choosing the restaurant :)
You pick up your phone and text back: if it’s that chapati place you mentioned, I’m down — otherwise, you’ll have to deal with my severe disappointment
Yuta: I’ll have to leave you in suspense then
You snort, tossing your phone down, as your eyes go back to the screen to find Suguru smiling at you, “What?”
“Just enjoying the view,” and your cheeks burn, as you roll your eyes.
“Shut up,” you mumble, rolling up a shirt in a hurry in a manner that definitely doesn’t qualify as folding, “what view? Me in an oversized t-shirt and shorts?”
“Exactly, with that pretty smile on your lips? Best thing on anytime,” he replies, and you bite back that same smile he complimented — but it’s the one reserved for him.
“You dork,” you mutter, “don’t say cute things or I’ll take the last train tonight to see you sooner,”
“I’d never make you do that so I’ll stop, for now,” he sighs, resting his cheek on his palm, his gaze growing a little more heady, “but tomorrow? I’ll be sure to tell you every single thing I love about you,”
And your lips curl, as you sigh, “I love you, but you should get some rest and I should finish packing and do the same,”
He gives a small smile, “Yes, ma’am, I’ll see you tomorrow, pretty girl,”
“I’ll be the one running into your arms,”
“Undoubtedly very late,”
“What was that? The sound of me missing my train tomorrow?” And he laughs, as you cross your arms, head held far too high, “that’s right. I’m holding myself hostage,”
“Well if you’re both hostage and hostage negotiator, tell both of you that I’ll bring you your favorite drink and buy you the breakfast of your choice,” and you peek at him, “coming around?”
“I’ll see you tomorrow, you better have the ransom ready,” you let a smile escape your lips, “I love you,”
“I love you too, I’ll see you tomorrow,” and he hangs up after, and you sigh — tomorrow, finally.
You’ll see him again — you just hoped these few days didn’t pass by quickly.
~~~
Suguru waited at the station for you, your preferred hot beverage in hand, along with your requested pastry, both in hand as he waited. He opted to have his hair up in a bun due to the weather, a slight wind that carried the warning of fall in the crisp air that morning. But not whenever a snowstorm could have kept him from you that morning — it had been far too many days and nights spent without you by his side while spending them instead in stuffy rooms filled with colleagues and donors.
But now — and he sees people pour from the platform, a throng of harried travelers looking to get to their next destination, and among them all, he spots you — with the red suitcase you insisted made it easier to find amongst the others (it didn’t).
And he’s approaching you, slipping past others, and your eyes find his, your lips in a grin at the sight of him, as you find your way into his arms in a moment — suitcase clattering to the floor probably to the other travelers’ dismay. But he grabbed the handle and turned it upright in a moment, before his arm curled back around you.
“Hi,” you whisper, and he could have stood there forever — it had felt like forever since he had held you. His palm cupped your cheek, a thumb brushing back and forth against the length of it.
“You always know how to make an entrance sweetheart,” he murmurs, forehead pressed to yours, as your fingers intertwine slowly but surely — as if they hadn’t parted, “but I wouldn’t have it any other way,”
“Uh-huh, don’t act like I forgot about the ransom I’m owed,” and he’s rolling his eyes, as he takes your luggage, wrapping an arm around you, “where is it?”
“In the car, how about we stop by my apartment, drop off your things, rest for a bit and then we can grab breakfast, as promised?” You smile, leaning into his side, wrapping your arms around his middle. He presses a kiss to the top of your head.
“As long as it’s with you.”
~~~
“You made breakfast for me?” you gasp, as he had set the table with all the breakfast staples — “i thought we were going to ‘grab breakfast?’”
Suguru wipes his hands, as he brings over two pairs of clean chopsticks and sits beside you, “Well I thought you might be tired from the train ride so I thought we could have breakfast in and relax before going out before lunch,”
You take the chopsticks from him, fingers brushing as you do, leaning into his side, “It’s not fair being this perfect,” you murmur, your head against his shoulder, nose brushing against the soft fabric of his t-shirt and his skin, “when are you going to show me your flaws?”
“I think I’ve shown plenty of those the last few months with how things have went before we even began dating,” his lips brush against your forehead, “now I just want to treasure you — as much as I can,”
“Me too,” you lean up and meet his lips in a soft kiss that steals the logic from your head and the air from your lungs — and only leaves his touch behind, “Suguru…” and you want to admit to him how hard it’s been without him, how much harder it's been than what you expected — and how you worried about how hard would it get during the semester, when you both were busy? “I really missed you,” you bury your face in the crook of his neck, and you speak before he can get even a syllable out, “but I’m so glad we’re together now,”
He didn’t need to know — he would only feel bad. You could handle it—
“Me too,” his gaze is soft, as he pulls back to find your lips in another achingly gentle kiss.
For him.
~~~~
“This weekend is supposed to be for you, why are you shopping for me?” Suguru says yet again as you peruse another homegoods store, looking for something to decorate what you claimed were the “barren landscape” of his apartment, “we should do something you want to,”
“This is something I want to do,” as you inspect a globe with the same scrutiny you’d apply to a Aristotelian text — brow furrowed in thought as if this knick knack would give you some unintelligible insight on metaphysics (it did not), “you’re going to be living there for a while, I want you to have an apartment that doesn’t look like a serial killer resides there,”
“Why does it look like that?”
“Because it doesn’t look lived in,” you pick up a set of matching bookends, “these things make your house look lived in and feel welcoming,” and then you put the bookends down thoughtfully, “although we should start with more basic things, like frames and a full length mirror,”
“Well if I look like a serial killer, you don’t have to worry about anyone who comes over, because they will think I’m a murderer and feel very unwelcome,” and you laugh, intertwining your fingers with him, “I don’t care about other people — I care about you, so will this make you happy?”
You nod, “Because I want you to feel happy here, and that will make me happy,”
And he wants to say the only thing that would make him really happy would be if you lived here with him — to wake up beside you each morning, to come home to you each evening, and fall asleep beside you — but he couldn’t say that. It would almost be cruel to say something that wasn’t possible right now. But it would be — it would be possible.
“Okay, let’s find some things,” his arm curls around your waist, pressing a kiss to the top of your head, “but remember, you do love this serial killer,”
“That’s only because I’m far too wonderful to murder,” and he rolls his eyes, as the two of you continue to shop, and he watches you continue to pick up and examine things — and he can’t help but wonder if this is what it would be like when you both shop for your place together. And he bites back a smile.
Only a few more months — and you could be together. It wasn’t forever.
That’s what he kept telling himself.
~~~~
“You said no work while I was here,” you were doing your best pout if only to change his mind, but he was unrelenting, his shoulders slumped in resignation, and his lips in a purse at his desk in his bedroom, “Suguruuuuu,” you’re officially whining, and you know it’s not his fault, but you have such little time with him, you don’t want a minute to be wasted.
“I know, sweetheart, but Yaga wants to speak about the semester starting, and I didn’t have much of a choice—” you sigh, wrapping your arms around his shoulders, burying your face in the crook of his neck, lips pressing kisses to the hollow of his throat, “princess—” he groans.
“I want to get in my cuddles before,” and your teeth graze the juncture of his neck and shoulder, and he sucks in air between his teeth, “how long is your meeting?”
“About half an hour,” and you hum, kissing his lips, languid and slow, your fingers threading his lengthy tresses, “it’s about to start—” and you’re kneeling down in front of his chair, as the video call starts to go off, as you look up at him between his knees, “sweetheart—” he’s hissing, wide eyes, as you undo his belt and the zipper of his pants.
“Then let’s not waste any time,” you grin, toying with the waistband of his boxers, “pick up the call.”
And you thought he would kick you out from underneath, nudging you away, and you would relent if he really didn’t want this — but he doesn’t. He swallows thickly, Adam's apple bobbing as he picks up the call, placing his earbuds in his ear.
“Hi Professor Yaga,” Suguru says, and you’re almost surprised how normal he sounds with you between his legs, but Yaga can’t see the way his muscles tense when your fingers spring his already half hard cock free, “Yes, we do have a couple things to cover. No, I don’t mind starting,”
Well if he insists, you’d start too.
Your fingers slowly stroke him to fully erect, pre-cum dripping over your fingers as you do, your eyes flickering up to see his expression still perfectly normally, the only telltale sign being the way his fingers white knuckled the armrest just out of sight. His cock was so unfairly pretty — a deep red at the tip with a slight curve that had your thighs pressing together at the thought of it sinking into you. Your lips press a kiss to the tip and he wavers mid sentence, as you smirk against his cock, as your mouth parts to suck him off.
And it seems like Yaga is the one speaking now, as he seemingly mutes himself, resting his chin against his hand, covering his mouth with his fingers, “Fuck, sweetheart,” he swears under his breath, as your tongue traces along one of his veins, sucking at the tip, as your fingers drift to toy with his balls.
The tip of your tongue flicks against his weeping slit, bobbing your head along the length, as a hand of his drifts down to thread in your locks, nails digging into your scalp.
“S-sorry, what was that?” he seemingly unmuted himself at a question, and you’re sucking even harder, nose brushing against his pubes as his tip brushes against your throat, “N-no, I’m fine, sorry, I’m not feeling well,”
You suck one more time, and he’s gone, as he barely can mutes himself and turns off his camera, groaning, as he spills down your throat, as you swallow it, his head thrown back against the headrest of his chair. And he’s panting, as he looks down at you, half lidded and lost in pleasure, gaze darkening as he watches you pull away, a string of spit and cum connecting you to his softening cock, as you adjust his boxers and clothes.
“What happened to Yaga?” and his glance tells you he certainly does not care — chest heaving, as he runs his fingers through his hair.
“Disconnected after I went silent — I’ll tell him my internet went out,” and you’re slowly rising out from between his legs, and his fingers find your waist, tugging you close, “you really are a bad influence,” and his lips find yours, your fingers cupping his cheek.
“I told you I didn’t want to waste time,” you grin, and in one smooth motion, he’s dragging you into his bed, giggling leaving your lips as he showers you with kisses, “Suguru!” you yelp as you fall backwards into his plush bed, and he’s tugging off your shorts and panties with ease, folding your legs up, one of them brushing against his shoulder, as he kisses your inner thigh, a smile against your heated skin.
“My turn.”
~~~~
“How did this week go so quickly?” you sigh, burying your face in his chest on Friday night, knowing you have to get on a train tomorrow morning, “it’s not fair, it’s not enough time,” you murmur, tracing circles on his skin, “and now I don’t get to see you for a month,”
“I know, I don’t want you to go,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to your forehead, “but it will pass by quick — you’ll be busy with classes and I’ll be busy with work — it won’t be as bad as we think,” And you don’t want to admit your fears to him — it would make it all too real, as if they would emerge from the syllables your lips spoke into a new reality before you — and you couldn’t take that risk, no matter how illogical it was.
“I know, I just can’t imagine spending this much time apart,” you glance at him, “don’t know what I did without you before, I don’t even remember what I spent my time doing,”
“Revising the essays I made you write?” and you pinch his cheek, and he’s laughing, “sorry, couldn’t resist making that joke,”
“Yeah, I recall you couldn’t resist me either,” and his fingers drag lazily over your cheek, tucking stray strands of hair behind your ear.
“Well, who really could resist you?” he sighs, content seemingly in just the act of touching you, “I tried and failed — and I am a master at resisting temptation,”
“A paragon of morality truly,” and he snorts, as you kiss his neck sweetly, ghosting over the places you had left marks, “though there was definitely nothing moral about what we just did,”
Your lips find his again, a lazy kiss that grows slowly with more heat the more your lips meet again and again and again — until he’s parting, “It’s just a month,” he says as if he can sense your anxiety, “I’ll come see you, I promise,”
“So if you don’t come, I can summon Immanuel Kant to scold you for not fulfilling your promise?” and he laughs.
“A scolding from you would be far more effective, but Kant is able to come if he can make it — death’s a worse commute than to Tokyo,”
“Who says?” you mumble, pressing your forehead to his, “you’ll take me to the station?”
“Of course,” and you have only one request.
“Don’t come inside ok?” his brow furrows, but you softly smooth it with the back of your knuckles, “Otherwise, I’ll end up crying — and I rather not subject you or the passengers near me to that,” and he chuckles, a frown still on his lips.
“Are you sure?”
It wasn’t just the crying — you knew if he walked you to your train, you’d want to make him come with you or let yourself stay — and you couldn’t do that, not to either of you. This was temporary — it wouldn’t be forever—
“I’m sure.” you kiss his lips again, rolling over so you were on top, your bodies brushing against each other with the familiar heat you’d miss when you were back home again.
—so why did it feel like forever?
~~~
“You promised me a better meal and this place nearly burned my taste buds off,” you grumble, as the two of you stand outside the restaurant, rain pounding against the awning as it starts to come down, the spicy food from the chapati place doing little to keep you warm now against the frigid wind of the autumn carrying the promise of being drenched with it.
“Come on, it wasn’t that bad,” Yuta chuckles, holding a hand out for the rain, “now at least the spice will help on the way home,”
“The only good thing about this place is that it's close to my apartment. I have a ton of work to do already — and it’s only the first week of classes,” you sigh, pulling out your umbrella, and glancing at him, hands still empty and unmoving. You hold up your umbrella, waving it, “Did you not bring one?” as you pull out your phone to check the weather reports.
“I didn’t know there was rain in the report for today,” he sighs, waving you off, “go ahead, I’ll wait for it to let up or find a convenience store nearby— I just need to make it back to the station—”
“Trains are down because of the storm,” you raise an eyebrow, as you glance at him, “come on, you can stay at my place,”
He’s shaking his head, holding his hands up, “No, I don’t want to—”
You tilt your head, glancing around at the clearing street and the distant rumble of thunder, “So are you going to camp out here outside this restaurant for the night or?” and he’s chewing his lip, as you chuckle, “it’s not far, we can share the umbrella, and hopefully we won’t get completely soaked,”
“Well, we’re not completely soaked,” you close the door behind you both, dripping water onto your floor, as you sigh, “hold on I’ll grab towels,” and you do, coming back quickly so you both can dry off.
And you notice the damage done to his clothes are far worse than yours, completely soaked through, the towel doing little to help aside from stopping the water from forming a larger puddle near your entryway.
“You held the umbrella mostly to my side, didn’t you?” And he pauses, his hesitation the answer you needed, as you sigh — “you’re more of a martyr than you need to be,”
“Well, I want to help my friends,” he gives a small smile.
“Even at the detriment of yourself?” And he shrugs.
“I can handle it,” and you shake your head, as you head to your closet pull out a fresh towel and clothes — but not your own.
“Go change,” and he glances at the clothes, hesitates, but takes them, as he frowns, “it’s fine, Yuta, go shower and change,” you show him where the bathroom is, and how to turn on the water.
You head to your bedroom to change and dry off, grabbing a fresh t-shirt and shorts — chewing on your lips — you had to give Yuta some of Suguru’s clothes you had stolen — your clothes wouldn’t exactly fit him properly. But you pouted, now you couldn’t sleep in Suguru’s shirt tonight, and you sighed, it was just as well — you had to wash the shirt so now it didn’t smell like him now.
You come out into the living room, hopping onto your couch and flipping on the TV, looking for something to watch. And then you hear the bathroom door, glancing behind you, “Done?”
“Yeah, thank you again for this,” he shifts in place, steam escaping from the bathroom behind him, his bangs still a little damp and cheeks flushed with a tinge of pink along his cheekbones, “what are you doing?”
“Just looking for something to watch,” and he comes over, sitting on the other side of the couch, “do you have any preference?”
He shakes his head, “No, not really,” and you choose a random movie to put on, a cheesy rom-com that had just come out on a streaming service, “is that what you like to watch?”
You shrug, running your fingers through your hair, “I like watching bad movies — it’s something I do usually while I do my work — the genius is, I don’t have to pay attention to follow the storyline,” and your eyes still on the TV, you don’t notice how his eyes linger on your face, a smile pulling on his lips, “now look at this, it’s the classic ‘guy likes girl, but girl is too dense to notice,” you shake your head, “does that even happen in real life?”
And Yuta parts his lips to reply when your phone rings, and you grab your phone — a video call — Suguru’s name flashing on your screen, and you can’t bite back the smile on your lips, “Hold on, I have to take this — just make yourself comfortable, I’ll be in the bedroom,”
You head into your bedroom, shutting the door behind you, as you pick up the call, “Hey stranger,” you smile as his face comes into view, glasses perched on his nose, as he grins back at you, “I miss you,”
“I miss you too,” he rests his face against his hand, “I’m sorry I haven’t been able to talk much — there have been a lot of issues popping up because its the first week — a lot of department requests from professors and students alike,”
“Mr. Bigshot Department Head has forgotten about his girlfriend, huh?” you mock pout, and he shakes his head, a longing gaze that makes your breath stutter in your chest.
“I could never forget you — how can I when all I dream about is you?” and you bite your lip, cheeks burning, “did I make you smile?”
“Shut up,” and he laughs, and then you hear a noise from the living room, a clatter that catches your attention.
“What was that?”
You wave him off, “It was just my friend, he’s staying over because of the rain — he’s in the living room,”
And he pauses for a moment, expression unreadable, “Which friend?”
“His name is Yuta — I met him during my first student government meeting — he’s kind of showing me the ropes,” and he nods, his silence palpable, gaze downwards and then it dawns on you, “Are you jealous?”
And his eyes flicker up, “Sweetheart—”
“Oh my god you are, that’s so cute,” you smile, as you delight in the slight dusting of pink that settles over his cheeks — he’s far too pretty for his own good, and your voice softens, “you have nothing to worry about, Suguru — I love you, no one else can even compete,”
He sighs, and you wish you could kiss him, “I know, I know — I’m just,” his brow furrows, his lips stuck in a frown, “I just miss you,”
“Then come over,” you tease, and he gives a small smile.
“You have company,” he reminds you, and you sigh, glancing at the door, “you should go back,”
“I’ll work on inventing an instant teleportation device,” a forced laugh leaves his lips, “Suguru, are you sure—”
He shakes his head, “I’m fine, really, just call me before bed if you have time okay?”
“Yeah of course, I love you,” a genuine smile gracing his lips.
“I love you too,” and you hang up, heading back out to find Yuta watching TV, “sorry about that,”
“It’s fine, is everything okay?” he glances at you, tilting his head, “nothing wrong?”
You shake your head, sitting down beside him, grabbing a cushion to place in your arms, “It was just my boyfriend — he usually calls me around this time,”
Yuta gives a slight nod, “Oh, is he away this weekend?”
“No, we’re long distance — he lives in Kyoto,” you explain, sighing, leaning back on the couch, “that’s why I took the call, otherwise, I would have called whoever back,”
“You don’t have to do that — you should be allowed to do whatever you need to. It’s your home,” and you smile, shaking your head before you toss the pillow at him, “w-what?”
“You’re important too, Yuta — you’re my friend and a guest — I’m not going to just leave you out here by yourself without saying anything,” you hold your hand out, “can I have the remote?” And he passes it to you, fingers brushing, as you flip through more movies and TV, “are you tired at all?”
His gaze stays straight ahead, as he shakes his head, “No, not yet,” and you’re choosing a movie to watch, his fingers clasped over each other — the warmth of your touch still lingering.
And you had no idea that his heart was aching at the thought of you being taken — much like the very someone who had taken you.
~~~
“I understand, Suguru, really I do,” and you did — you always did — but this time, it was a little hard to swallow.
It had been weeks since the two of you had seen each other, not over a screen. It was already a month and half into the new semester — and each time he was supposed to visit you, something or another came up — a faculty event, a staff meeting, grading to do, and god knows what else.
And you could bear it the other times — it wasn’t his fault. He had work to do. He had things he had to take care of with little choice in the matter. And you couldn’t always come to Kyoto either — not with your program in full gear and events for the student government around the corner.
No it wasn’t his fault — but it didn’t mean it didn’t hurt — especially with what he was missing.
“I really tried to get time off — and I probably still can make it, but I might run late—“ Suguru’s sighing on the phone, and you know his brow is knit together — mind desperately trying to grasp at a solution, as if he thought hard enough one would emerge that he hadn’t considered.
Your footsteps pause, as you bite back your own sigh, trying to keep your tone light. “It’s okay, really — we can celebrate my birthday the next time—“
“It’s not okay, sweetheart,” he cuts you off, “I’m really going to try to make it. I’ll get my work done, or put it off—“
“I don’t want you jeopardizing work—“
“I’ll be fine, Princess — I want to be with you,” he says so softly that your refusals all but melt, “really, I do,”
You bite your lip, as you continue to make your way, weaving between the students herding towards their next classes, “Okay I just don’t want you stressing out or worrying—“
“I’ll be fine, just, make any plans you want to, okay? I don’t know what time I’ll get there on Saturday, but I’ll be there, okay?”
“You really don’t—“ you’re outside the room for your meeting, leaning against the wall.
“Sweetheart,” he warns, and your lips curl, fully submitting to his whims.
“You really don’t — know what time you’re getting here?” You nailed that — apparently not by his chuckle over the line, as you hear the tapping of his laptop as he checks train times.
He pauses, a rustling of papers, and a sigh, “I’m not sure, but once I’m on my way, I’ll let you know, okay?”
“Okay, that’s fine,” you give a half hearted smile despite the fact no one would see it, “I’m outside my student government meeting, but I’ll talk to you tonight?”
“Of course, good luck with your meeting, and I’ll call you around 8:00 PM?” And the two of you hang up and you’re left with disappointment hanging mid air — like a mystery waiting to be solved, wondering if you’ll be satisfied or saddened.
“What’s wrong?” your gaze snaps up to find Yuta, who offers a small smile, “are you disappointed that our meeting never starts on time? Because you should give up on that now,” you roll your eyes, as he holds the door open for you, and you step past him.
“It’s nothing,” you set your things down, sitting, as he takes his own seat beside you.
“It doesn’t seem like nothing,” Yuta tilts his head, leaning on his arm, a hint of concern across his features in his slightly furrowed brow and pursed lips, “you don’t have to talk about it — but if you want to, I’m here,”
You lean back in your chair, “It’s just my boyfriend — he’s been really busy with work so we haven’t been able to see each other, and now…” your gaze fixes itself to the table in front of you, taking in the faint scratches on the laminate wood, a sigh caught in the back of your throat, “he’s not sure if he’ll make it this weekend for my birthday, he said he would try his best,” and you shake your head, “and I know it’s a little…childish, but—”
“It’s not childish,” he gently cuts you off, “it’s understandable to want to spend your birthday with the person you love,” he leans forward to meet your eyes, “how about this? We can hang out on your birthday until your boyfriend comes down, because I’m sure he will,”
“How do you know?” and other people begin to file into the room, as he offers you a small smile.
“Who would ever keep you waiting?”
~~~~
“You don’t usually call at this time,” you yawn, rolling over in bed, as you hear Suguru rustle on the other end too — it was already late and you had already buried yourself under your comforter, scrolling on your phone before bed (even though you knew very well that you shouldn’t).
“Sorry did I wake you, sweetheart?” and you hum.
“What do I get if you did?” he laughs, his voice making your heart flutter in two seconds flat, “my sleep comes at a very high price, Professor,”
“Oh I know, I’ve paid that price several times, and you have willingly given it to me as well,” your lips curling, you knew he was lying on his back as he always did before bed, arm under his head as he looked up at his ceiling, “what’s the price this time?”
“Video call me,” and he does in an instant, his face popping up on your screen, lips quirked upwards at the sight of your face, glasses perched on his nose.
“Such an easy price this time,” and you yawn, turning over in bed onto your side, hiding your pout in your pillow — god, you wished he was beside you right now.
“The late hour’s making me soft,” you say, a strand of black falling in front of his face, and you only wish you could reach over and run your fingers through his silky strands, “did you need something?”
“I need someone,” and you snort.
“Well, you have me, congratulations,” you turn over onto your back, “now what do you plan to do with me?”
He smiles that same smile that had stolen your heart from the start, “Treasure you? Kiss you? Love you?” and your lips curl again, “apparently get a poodle and a dozen cats with you,”
“That’s a guarantee,” and he smiles.
“If it will make you happy, then yes it is,” you purse your lips, “what?”
“What’s gotten into you?” And his eyes seem to flicker elsewhere for a moment, “Suguru?”
His lips form a full smile, “Happy birthday, princess,” and you blink, glancing at the clock and realizing it was midnight now, “each and every day with you in my life has been the happiest I have ever been and ever hoped to be. I spent my life searching for the meaning of life — but I didn’t find it, until I met you,” his voice is soft as tears burn at the corner of your eyes, “I don’t know what it is that I’m owed — but I don’t know what I did to deserve you,”
“I love you,” you whisper, “I wish I could hold you,” your fingers caress the screen, as if your touch could teach through it, and he presses a kiss to his hand.
“I love you too — and I promise I’ll hold you soon,” he lays back on his bed, “you’ll be sick of me soon enough,”
“Never,” you settle onto your pillow, “will you stay on the phone with me until I fall asleep?”
He only smiles, “Anything for you.”
~~~
Anything but being able to be here by lunch or dinner at this rate. You checked your phone — only to find his last message — “I’m almost done. I’ll let you know when I leave for the station,”
But it had been over two hours and there had been no update — even after you had texted him twice to ask where he was. You were caught between worry and disappointment — anxiety pricking at your skin, enough to annoy but not enough to pierce through to full panic. And disappointment felt like a weight that hovered above your heart, close enough to feel, but not enough to hit yet.
You didn’t want to feel this. It wasn’t his fault. You knew that he was trying — and you didn’t resent him in the least for it. But that didn’t mean you wanted him here any less — especially after it had been almost two months without seeing each other.
And a knock at your door made your eyes snap over, as you tripped over yourself to get to the door, “Who is it?”
“It’s me—“ but it wasn’t Suguru — it was Yuta. And you opened the door, a small smile on your lips, as Yuta stood in a black sweater tucked into dark gray jeans, and a deep maroon jacket pulled over it, “happy birthday,”
“Oh, thanks—“ and you blink, “oh my god, we had plans I’m sorry — I forgot,” you groan, and he leans sideways to take a look at your apartment, spotting the blanket on your couch and a pillow.
“Did I interrupt your date with your couch?” you roll your eyes.
“You did actually, it was a good one too—“ he cuts you off with a look, “I don’t know if I really want to go out. I was thinking I’d just—“
“What? Sit here and become one with your couch?” he raises an eyebrow.
You pout, “Yuta, I don’t know. I think I rather stay home—“
And that’s what you had done all day — Suguru had checked in here and there — trying desperately to finish up work to make it for some part of your birthday but hadn’t checked in for two hours now. You were sure he was going to be on his way soon — but that didn’t make waiting any less depressing. Your phone even had sighed at you as you checked your messages for the millionth time to find no new ones — low battery life only taunting you in return.
“That’s what you’ve done all day — I’m sure your boyfriend would want you to go out and have fun—“ he crosses his arms in front of your doorway, “come on, we can just go watch a movie, no big deal — we can have some fun and kill a few hours, okay?”
And you stare at your phone again, before locking it — “let’s go,”
~~~~
Finally, Suguru sat down right as the train began to roll forward — he had barely made it. The meetings stacked up the day before had put far behind on his grading — he nearly couldn’t make it.
Not if he hadn’t stayed up until 3:00 AM.
He checked his phone — he should make it by 5:00 PM, which should leave plenty of time for dinner and he checked his bag for your gift — it was just what you wanted — a necklace you had pointed out to him, a dragon with multi-colored gems. He laid against the seat, his forehead leaning against the cool glass.
God, he missed you.
It had been too long. Since he had even seen your face not through his phone screen and heard your voice whisper in his ear not through his cellphone. But that’s all he saw and heard of you lately.
He didn’t know the department would be this much of a mess when he took over. The last department head was truly enjoying his retirement months before it began. It was enough he had his department head duties but to teach two classes on top of that was enough for work to pile up until it was untenable. And he was unavailable.
How many times had he fallen asleep on the phone with you? How many times had he canceled plans to come see you? How many times had he missed dates?
And how many more would there be?
He knew you said everything was fine, he knew you understood his circumstance, he knew it wouldn’t be forever — but still — he wrung his fingers in his lap — why did it feel like it already had been forever? Since he had seen you smile, seen you laugh, held your hand, kissed your lips — it felt as if you were disappearing from his grasp.
But he wouldn’t let it happen — he couldn’t.
~~~
“Please turn your cellphone off and place it in these bags before entering the movie,” the ticket attendant told you and Yuta as he handed you both your tickets for something called, Human Earthworm 4, handing you both phone pouches.
You knit your brow together, “But—”
“This is an early screening of the movie, so the staff has been told that all persons seeing this movie today must lock their phones in these pouches before entering the theater,” the attendant explains, gesturing to the cardboard cutout of the movie with a sign that said ‘early screening’ in bold letters, “otherwise you could exchange your tickets for a different movie,” you purse your lips — you had been looking forward to seeing this movie, especially early. And Yuta had even bought the tickets ahead of time after hearing you talk about it at one of the student government meetings.
Yuta’s eyes slide to you, “We can see another—”
“It’s fine,” you shake your head, giving a small smile, “Let me just send a quick text,” you step away for a moment, texting Suguru — I’m going into a movie, I have to turn off my phone. Let me know when you’re on the train.
You lock your phone with a sigh, placing it in the bag — either way, he hadn’t texted, so you were sure he wasn’t on the train yet. And you weren’t sure if he would even make it. It was fine — you glanced at Yuta, walking over to the movie theater — it really was.
Because it wouldn’t be forever.
~~~~
The screech of the train jerks Suguru awake, his eyes burning, as he glances out the window — the sun beginning to give up the sky already, starting its descent. He rubs his eyes with the back of his hand as he checks the time — fuck, it had been an hour already. He leans back, glancing through his notifications and he sees a text from you.
Fuck, he had forgotten to respond to your messages earlier. He was a mess trying to get to the station, a flurry of papers, caffeine, and adrenaline — and he had spotted your messages before he left the office, only to make a mental note to reply once he was on the train. Where that note had been left in the recesses of his mind he could only guess.
He types: I’m so sorry, sweetheart — in my rush to get here, I didn’t let you know — I’m on the train already—
And then he pauses, he could surprise you — at your apartment. You’d be home after about an hour it seemed by the time he got to your place — it was perfect. He could pick up your cake (the one he had pre-ordered) and set everything up just in time — and then he could take you out for the dinner he had promised you.
He deletes the text, rewriting it — I’m so sorry sweetheart. I just finished work. I should be there by 7:00 PM. I love you. I’ll see you soon, birthday girl.
He sends the message, a smile on his lips — maybe there was something special he could do today, as he watches the train continue on its way.
He only hoped it would work out in his favor.
~~~
“It was perfect — the metaphor? Did you not see the metaphor?” Yuta nodding along to your rant as the two of you make it back to your apartment, “I know it seems like a dumb movie but if you read between the lines—” and you glance at Yuta, who continues to nod, and you stare, “you hated the movie, didn’t you?”
“No, no, I didn’t—” and then you raise an eyebrow, “it was really bad — have you seen good movies before?”
You laugh, shaking your head, “There’s no accounting for taste,”
“Clearly,” he replies, and you push him playfully, crossing your arms, as he grins back at you, “well, I’m glad you enjoyed it, that’s the important part,”
“And you got to bully me about my movie taste so that’s a lovely end to the evening,” he snorts, as the two of you make it outside your apartment door, “thanks for dragging me out — it was really nice,” you dig in your bag for your keys, “it was fun,”
“I’m glad I could help — I hope I made your day a little better,”
“You already do that by just being you, Yuta,” you pull your keys out, your phone slipping out with it — “shoot,” you kneel down and Yuta does too, fingers brushing as you pick it up — as your phone springs back to life, “shit, I guess i forgot to turn it back on,” as you rise, beginning to unlock your door as your texts start to come through — and you blink, right as you turn the knob, slowly reading the first message as you open the door only spotting Suguru’s back through the crack in the door.
Fuck. And you quickly shut the door.
“You okay?” Your eyes flicker up, forcing a small smile, as Yuta tilts his head.
“Yeah, sorry — my boyfriend is inside I think,” your mind in a dizzying panic, “I should go talk to him, alone,” you shift from foot to foot, looking incredibly awkward — but it seems to work, as Yuta nods.
“Right, of course, I”ll go,” he bites his lip, “let me know if you need anything ok?” And he’s gone, as you turn back around, taking a beat, before you open the door.
“Surprise?” you say, and Suguru is holding a cake with lit candles, lights dimmed, a small smile on his lips.
“I think that’s supposed to be my line,” he frowns at the expression on your face, “what’s—” and you shake your head, walking over.
“We’ll talk about that later,” you stand in front of him and your cake, “All I want to focus on is you and my cake,” and your lips curl, “and I believe I’m owed a song?”
“Happy birthday to you,” he sings softly, jawline illuminated by the low light of the candle, “Happy birthday to you. Happy birthday, my dear sweetheart,” and you bite back a grin, “Happy birthday to you,” he holds the cake up a little higher, “make a wish,”
You hum, “I don’t know what to wish for,” you blow out your candles, before taking the cake from his hands and placing it down before slipping into his arms, “I have everything I want right here.”
~~~
Suguru had almost gotten it right. Almost.
“Yuta almost saw you earlier,” you admit, “he didn’t, I realized before and made an excuse but,” you sigh, as the two of you sit on the couch, your fork toying with your slice of cake, “it was close,”
Close. Close to revealing your relationship. Lose to jeopardizing your future. Close to ruining your friendship. It was far too close — or was he far too close to you?
His brow knit together, “I’m sorry — I shouldn’t have let myself in and I should have texted earlier—“
“It’s not your fault, Suguru, it’s fine,” you offer a smile, “I don’t even mind if Yuta knows — he’s a good friend,”
“But still—“ you drag a finger through frosting and place a dollop on his nose, “sweetheart—“
“Let’s not focus on that right now. This is the first time I got to see you in weeks,” you lean over and lick the frosting from the tip of his nose, a warmth spreading across his face from your touch, “I want to enjoy the rest of my birthday with my boyfriend, okay?”
But he still couldn’t bring himself to pull away — not now.
“You’re right,” he murmurs, leaning in to press a kiss to your lips — it had been far too long since he had felt the soft press of your lips against his own. He could taste the frosting, the sickly sweetness didn’t begin to compare to your taste, and how much he had ached for it.
But it also didn’t stop him from dragging a finger dipped in frosting across your cheek.
“Suguru!” You gape at him, looking utterly too adorable with your pout and the frosting across your cheek, “on my birthday too?”
“Well, you’re so sweet, I wanted to see if it was possible for you to be even sweeter,” and he leans over licking the frosting from your cheek, “looks like it’s not possible—“ and you swallow his sentence with a kiss, as your plate and fork clatter as you set it down on your coffee table, climbing into his lap, your knees on either side, “our reservation — we’ll be late,” even so his hands drag down to your waist, pulling you flush against him.
“I think I want dessert first,” you murmur, before finding his lips in a kiss again.
It’s hours later, and you’re fast asleep beside him, your face buried against the crook of his neck, as Suguru runs his fingers through your hair. But he can’t sleep. Not when he keeps thinking about what you said.
You didn’t deserve this. To spend days waiting for your boyfriend to be free, to spend your time wondering when he would be able to call you, to spend your time stressed out at the idea of getting caught. A relationship should be easier, it should be fun — but you haven’t had either since he had to move.
His fingers brushes against the curve of your cheek and then tracing the chain of the necklace, thumbing the dragon charm. He loves you — he loves you, but was it enough when you deserved so much more? How many more things would he miss because of work? How many more things would you hide because you didn’t want him to feel guilty? How many more times would he let you?
He had felt you slipping from his fingers these last few weeks — he presses a kiss to your forehead — but he had never considered whether he should let you go.
Until now.
~~~
Can we call tonight? I miss you.
Suguru glances at his phone, students already filed in and sitting, the quiet chatter before class began. It had been like this for a week. He locked his phone, tucking it away in his pockets.
“If you all will sit and settle down, we’ll begin today’s lecture,” he says to the class, “we’re going to continue our discussion from last class on Scanlon — we’ll start with any questions left from our conversation,”
Several hands fly up, and he chooses one to speak, “I had a question,”
He blinks, spotting you amongst his students, “What are you—“
“Professor, you haven’t let me ask my question,” you pout, as you lean against the desk, arms crossed, “I need to understand the material to pass, don’t I?”
All replies get stuck in his throat — as words fail him, as they always did with you. He’s only able to nod. And you smile, lips curling wide.
“Scanlon posits the question “what do we owe to each other?’ But there is no one answer — we are meant to figure that on our own,” you lean back in your chair, “and I believe I’m owed at least a text back,”
The students’ quiet murmurings and piercing stares drawing heat up his neck, and you were the one who lit the match, flames licking at your heels.
“Sweetheart—“
“Do you get to call me that after how you’ve treated me?” you scoff, as you slide from your chair onto your feet, “no visit in weeks, barely any phone calls, and once we even got on the phone, you would fall asleep. Have you asked how I’ve been? How have I dealt with all of this? Do you even know how my semester is going?”
His mouth is a desert, and his words have all but deserted him — as he fumbles for any syllables he could grasp onto, but finds none. Because he has no excuses to be made.
You walk down the stairs of the lecture hall, as the slow steps you take ring in his ears, “do you know what I’m risking? My reputation, my career, my future — for what? For you? I know my answer to what I want in life. I know my answer is you — can you say the same?”
And the class is gone — and it’s only the two of you.
“I’d do anything for you, I’m sorry, I haven’t been able to. I—“ his voice breaks, and your hand finds his cheek, forcing his gaze to meet yours.
“Except let me go, apparently.”
RING. RING. RING.
His eyes flutter open, a breath caught in his throat, as he squeezes his eyes shut for a moment, before reaching blindly for his phone. He glanced at the screen now, turning off the alarm, spotting a text from you at the top.
Morning Sugu — I miss you <3, can we call tonight?
And he stares at your message before locking his screen and placing his phone down and turning around.
He needed to talk to you.
~~~~
“You’ve checked your phone like for the millionth and one time,” your eyes find Yuta’s as the two of you continue to put up flyers for the student government hosted dinner later in the week, “what’s going on?”
“Nothing, I’m fine,” and he stares at you, “what?” And then you sigh, “my boyfriend — it just feels like he’s been avoiding me, and I don’t know why,”
“Have you asked him why?” He holds a flier and tapes it a bulletin board outside, and you shake your head, “maybe you should try,”
“I want to, I just never get a chance to — he’s been so busy with work and I haven’t—“ and you sigh — it had been over a week since you and Suguru had even spoken on the phone, much less even video called, “I feel like something’s wrong — something is bothering him,” your voice falters, as you swallow your emotions, a sigh on your lips, “I don’t know,”
Yuta takes a pause, stealing a glance at you, before he turns to look, “You’ll only know if you ask — and the longer you wait, the harder it will be to be honest,” he glances away, “trust me,”
You crumple the flier in your hand, squeezing, “I’m just scared of the answer,” you admit. It had been so difficult to get to this point — tears roll down your cheeks — to see Suguru slip away because of this would be too much.
“I know,” Yuta says softly, as he gently places his hand on your shoulder, “but you still need it regardless,”
And then you hear a voice call your name, and you wipe your tears hurriedly as Yuta pulls his hand away, your gaze snapping over to see Professor Yaga and—
Suguru?
~~~
“Look who’s here for a meeting,” Yaga says, clapping a hand to Suguru’s shoulder, “did you hear that Professor Geto had become department head of the Kyoto sister university?”
And Suguru knew you very well had — but you hadn’t heard he’d come here for a meeting. To be fair, he didn’t know until this morning — but to be even more fair, he had plenty of time to tell you. But he didn’t — because he was hoping he wouldn’t see you, not like this.
“I did,” you force a smile, “it’s good to see you, Professor Geto, how have you been?”
You’re a natural at acting as if nothing is the matter — but he’s become a master at seeing right through it. He spotted the way your fingers wiped away your tears, your red rimmed eyes, and the plastered on smile that was nearly pulling into a frown. He resisted the urge to purse his lips — he had wondered for a split second what had made you cry? Until he saw the flicker of a glare in your gaze, and he knew he was the reason.
And it was yet another reason he needed to end this.
And this — Suguru’s eyes flicker between you and your friend — was the friend he assumed was Yuta, his brow knit in confusion, “I’ve been well — it’s good to see you, I hope the semester has gone well for you?”
You shrug, your expression unreadable, “Well enough, you know how the semester goes — it’s very busy around this time. Easy for things to slip through the cracks,” and he forces his gaze to not waver.
“Very true, it’s important to keep on top of things,”
“Especially the important things,” you give both him and Professor Yaga a stiff smile, “It’s good to see you both, but we have more flyers to hang up for the event coming up later this week,” you take Yuta’s hand, “if you’ll excuse us,” and the two of you disappear off around the corner.
“It was good to see her, wasn’t it?” Professor Yaga says, a smile on his lips, “she’s come a long way after your class — she was already an excellent student, but now, I see even brighter things on her horizon,” as he continues to walk down the hallway in the opposite direction, and Suguru spares a single glance over his shoulder, before pulling out his phone and texting you:
Can we talk later? I’ll let you know where.
“It was.”
~~~~
“Old habits die hard?” you sat on Suguru’s old desk as he walked in, your arms crossed in front of you. And Suguru tilts his head, closing the door behind him.
“Did something happen in this room?” and you roll your eyes, as he steps forward, “ah, yes, you’re referring to your grades right?”
“Yes, my grades — I’m still upset about that 99,” but the playfulness all but dies on your lips as he draws close, your eyes unable to meet his gaze, as if you would see some truth you weren’t ready to uncover, “Suguru, what’s going on?”
“Sweetheart—”
“You’ve been distant since my birthday, avoiding calling me, you barely text me — and today, you didn’t even tell me you were in Tokyo,” your voice breaks — even if you had thought what you wanted to say to him a million times today — it didn’t make it any easier, “are you upset with me?”
“No, no, you didn’t do anything wrong,” he’s shaking his head, as he cups your cheeks, “you didn’t do anything except be completely wonderful,” he swallows, voice catching, as he seems to struggle with his words, “and that’s why I have to let you go,”
The sentence repeats in your mind over and over — and you still can’t make sense of it. No, no, it didn’t make sense. Why would he want to break up?
One word was all you could manage to respond with — “What?”
“Sweetheart, you deserve someone who can be there for you, someone who will be there with you when you need them, who will call you, prioritize you, give you all of their energy — and with this distance—”
“We can make it work—” and you know you’re crying now, tears rolling down his knuckles, filling the chasm he’s making between the two of you.
He’s running his fingers through his hair, “You’re making this work — I’m trying too but I haven’t been able to visit you, I haven’t been able to see you or talk to you properly in weeks—”
“It’s not forever, it won’t be like this. I’m almost done with my degree, I can move down to Kyoto—”
“And I don’t want you to limit your options because of me and my career,” he cuts you off gently, as his thumb rubs back and forth, wiping your tears away, “you have such a wonderful future ahead of you — whether you decide to pursue a Ph.D. or a lecturer position or whatever else — I want you to make that decision without my presence being a factor—”
“But—” and he’s pressing his lips to you softly, it’s gentle and sweet — his hands holding you as if you would break apart in his fingers before him, as his lips finally part yours “Suguru, I know what I’m doing—”
“I know, but so do I,” he murmurs, as he begins to step away from you, his warmth leaving your body, “if it’s easier for you to hate me, hate me — if it’s easier to be indifferent, be indifferent — I just can’t hold you back, sweetheart. I can’t do that to you — whether it’s professionally or personally,”
“Suguru, you’re not letting me have a say in this,” and he takes your hands, lacing your fingers together, “I want this, I know it’s been hard, but don’t you want this too?”
“I do — I love you, but that’s why I can’t do that to you. I want you to be happy—”
“Even if it comes at the cost of your own happiness?” you scoff, “Are you subscribing to utilitarianism? Are you okay being a happiness pump?” Your fingers try to find purchase on his cheek, but he pulls away, hands falling away from yours.
“I am, if it means you’re happy, then I am,” Suguru whispers, glancing away from him, “it’s not worth the risk,”
Your words are quiet, as you swallow your tears, and you force your voice to be steady, “You’re making this about me — when it’s about you too,” you brush past him, “I didn’t expect you to be a coward, Suguru, but I suppose, I got the answer I deserve.”
And the door shuts behind you, tears burning as you walk off — and you know that he wouldn’t follow.
But you still hoped he would.
~~~
Suguru stands by the window, watching students file in and out of the building.
It was the right thing to do. That’s what he kept telling himself — over and over and over. But if it was so right, then why did he feel wrong? Wrong for breaking your heart. Wrong for letting you wrong. Wrong, wrong, wrong. He spent his time debating amongst others what right and wrong really was, but he always knew there would never be an answer.
And then he spots you leaving the building, before you bump into someone who stops you, your head down, but it doesn’t work, as the person pulls you into a hug. And he knew who it was — it was that student from earlier — Yuta. He had seen the way he looked at you — the same softness that Suguru had recognized because he saw it in himself.
He knew you deserved better, just because you were his answer —- he watched you sink into Yuta’s arms — doesn’t mean he was yours.
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✧ a/n: ahhh the anticipated fourth part!! there’s gonna be one more part of the main series and then it’s onto extra credit fics :). Don’t worry it will be a happy ending!! I promise!
✧ taglist: @hatsunemitskislobotomy , @difficultdomains , @diogodxlot t, @that-goth-bisexual , @dazailover1900 0, @aliyalala , @ashhlsstuff , @blue041803 , @mwtsxri , @bblgumfairy , @sukunasleftkneecap , @xo-evangeline , @fiannee , @teatreeoilll , @chalametet , @ryukaver , @d1gitalbathh , @saga3ious , @seventhcinema , @satosugucide , @your-l0nely-star , @sokkasmoon , @deegausserr , @hyookka , @oggsyy , @littlebitb , @higuchislut , @ti-mame , @itoshisins , @cerene-dipity , @onionsoop , @sinlillith , @izzythenaive , @lalacute03 , @rxndou , @c-themoon , @xxrag-d0llxx , @hqtoge , @sugarxlumps , @hopeluna , @actualdeemon , @enchantedpendant , @serendididy , @soulstealercat , @neuviloved , @simply-a-s1mp , @satorusmochis , @maddietries ,
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nathaslosthershit · 2 months
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A Much Needed Interview (OP81)
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(Part 2 of Teen Dad) Summary: After the shock of Oscar revealing himself to be a former teen dad, he joins an interview in the hopes of clearing everything up and limiting the overwhelming amount of questions he has been getting.
“Oscar, it is nice of you to sit down with us. I know it has been an interesting few weeks for you and your family. How are you guys all doing?” The interviewer asks.
‘Yeah, y’know, I had expected to one day have to open up about it all, but I never thought I’d have to do it the way I did. It has been fine, obviously my kids are young enough to not be impacted because they aren’t on social media, but it has been strange for my fiancée who is now getting hundreds of requests on her private account. I have sort of decided to take a break from social media because the response has been overwhelming and like none before. Mostly positive but I think a few people have gotten the wrong idea so I was hoping to clear everything up.” Oscar rambled. He was more nervous about this interview than any he had done before.
“Of course. Why don’t we start at the beginning, how did you and your fiancée meet?”
“We actually met at one of my races. She went to support one of her close friend’s brothers. After the race that I sadly didn’t do too well in, I saw her with her friend and I was kinda frozen in my spot, immediately head over heels. Sadly, it seems like everyone but her noticed. I was too scared to do anything so I just watched her leave. I think I sulked for days, totally regretting my decision to do nothing. A totally heartbroken 16 year old. I looked for her every single race until she finally came back a few months later.”
“Oh please tell me you finally got the confidence to shoot your shot.”
“Nope! I just stared at her and stuttered when she caught me looking then ran off. I then had an amazing race, I think part of me was just trying to make up for the embarrassment and luckily it seems my car got the memo. After the race she came up to me and asked for my number.” God, he was blushing profusely at the memory. He knew he would be getting slack for this for a very long time. 
“Such a story! The young Oscar Piastri was no ladies’ man.”
“He was absolutely not. Soon after we started dating.” Oscar awkwardly laughed, sensing what was about to come up.
“And then kids came shortly after?” The interviewer asked with care in his voice, certainly able to sense Oscar’s change in attitude.
“Yeah. Uh, obviously not planned. I don’t think many people plan to become parent’s at 18. It was a shock… I didn’t handle it the best at first, something I think I will always regret. She was scared and while so was I, I should have been more supportive. I was embarrassed for a while. Felt like a total idiot. I didn’t tell anyone outside of my family and made them swear to secrecy. I also began to isolate myself from friends because I couldn’t bring myself to tell them but also felt terrible lying. A few months in I finally snapped myself out of it and began to focus on all the wonderfulness that was to come. I loved her more than anything and I would be lying if I said I hadn’t already imagined a life together in great detail. By the time we found out it was twins, a boy and a girl, I was ecstatic.”
“Well mate, I don’t blame you for your feelings. I definitely would have been a terrible father at 18 so I salute you.” The interviewer joked.
“Honestly, I had the same thought for a while, even when I was excited to have kids. I had so many doubts about it, I mean how could I not? But when it came down to it, I couldn’t afford to be anything less than a great father. Of course I had my moments, and still do years later, but I wouldn’t be able to let myself be anything less than I am. If you love your kids enough, you find a way.”
“How did having kids so young impact your career? Obviously it didn’t hurt it too much considering you are in your second year driving in Formula 1.”
“Well, I decided I wouldn’t advertise my situation unless a team was very serious about me. Prema knew, Alpine did too and of course McLaren does. All were welcoming and accommodating, as much as they could be. I don’t think I would have gone with any of them if they weren’t cool with it though. I realized the minute my kids were born I would give it all up for them, which scared the hell out of me.”
“That is admirable. All these years later you are still with their mother, correct?”
“Yes! I asked her to marry me over break. Everyone close to us had been confused as to why it took so long but we had discussed marriage together many times and made the decision that because our relationship moved so fast with having kids so young, we would wait a bit. I mean, we are still young but I honestly couldn’t wait any longer. She is everything to me and the most wonderful mother my kids could have.”
“Have your kids been around the paddock yet? I assume they are old enough to understand what you do.”
“They have been to the factory and come with me to meetings when we haven’t had a sitter for them. Luckily, they are both very well behaved in public, they also really like watching the races on tv and have somewhat of an understanding of what I do. They don’t believe I actually drive the car though.” Oscar rumbled. Trying to convince his twins that yes, their father actually does drive the cars they see going super fast, has been an ongoing issue. They seem to believe he is tricking them but have no problem believing Uncle Logan and Uncle Lando drive the cars. It has definitely humbled him immensely.
“Well you will have to fix that soon huh? Will they be attending races in the future?”
“I am trying to work that out with my fiancée actually. They are almost four so we don’t want them traveling too far, I also don’t believe they will be able to be entertained solely by the race the entire time so we have a lot to deal with. But I think seeing them on the paddock supporting me will be one of the best moments of my life. I selfishly can’t wait for them to come.”
The interview wrapped up shortly after that. Getting to reminisce on the start of his relationship and how far they have come and how many wonderful things are in the future put Oscar in a deliriously happy mood. He couldn’t wait to get home to his family. 
Walking through the door, he was immediately welcomed to the sound of toddler meltdowns. Fully entering the house, he saw his very tired fiancée rubbing her face as she tried to calm her babies down. Clearly this had been going on for a while.
Despite how upset she looked, she immediately perked up at seeing Oscar had returned. But that immediately went away as she remembered the screaming kids and how messy the house and herself were.
“Sorry honey, I know you are probably so tired after the interview and meetings earlier and these two missed their nap so they are so cranky and I just-” He cut her off with a kiss. Once he pulled away she looked at him, perplexed. A kiss from Oscar was never unwelcome but it was the last thing she expected at that moment.
“Hey, look at me.” He said as he put a hand on her cheek. “I love you and our little family so much and you never, ever have to apologize for something as trivial as this. Why don’t you go get in the bath and relax a little and I will try to wrangle these two, okay?” 
In her eyes, Oscar had never been hotter than he was now. Now it was her turn to surprise him with a kiss, even more passionate than the first. They would have continued if it hadn’t been for more screaming from their two kids.
Still, Oscar wouldn’t change a thing.
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dollfacefantasy · 7 months
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Hold My Calls
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pairing: leon kennedy x fem!reader
summary: you teasing leon about his flip phone leads to some fun
cw: nsfw (18+), smut, p in v, oral (f receiving), fucking during a phone call, age gap, daddy kink, praise/degradation, over-stimulation
word count: 2.9k
a/n: hey everyone school is kicking my ass rn, but i am back with another one. thank you so much for the support on my last post that meant the world to me. i don't care if this is not technologically accurate or whatever just let me be delusional in peace. as always comments and reblogs are appreciated and i will give you special smooches in return <3 also thank you too my loves @tosuckmyweenis @kaitkatme @chasingkennedy @explorevenus @sleepyluxe @death-paint @petitecolibri for helping me come up with ideas for this one and/or beta reading - ily all sm :)
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When you started dating Leon Kennedy, obviously you knew there was an age gap. You figured it wasn’t a big deal. He’s only thirty-six. That isn’t that much older. And for the most part, that was true. The difference in years never seemed to play a huge part in how you loved each other. But there was one thing that reminded you of this man’s age.
He had a fucking flip phone.
Honestly, it didn’t even say much about his age. It highlighted his stubbornness. He was not incompetent. His job had him working with all kinds of shit that you didn’t even try to understand, so it’s not like he can’t work a smartphone. He just doesn’t want to.
It didn’t really matter. If anything, it was kind of cute. The way he fumbled with the buttons that were too small for his fingers. The loud chiming ringtone that he would grumble about yet never turn down. The sight of him trying to find the right distance to hold the phone away from his face so he could read the font. You had heart eyes on your first date when this man popped in a CD because he couldn’t use the aux with his flip phone. They were simple quirks, but they were just so endearing to you. You’d tease him about being outdated, and he’d put up with it cause it was you.
“Why do I need anything more? This thing can call you, and that’s all I really need,” he’d say with a teasing expression when you’d crack a joke.
You’d roll your eyes at the excessive charm, but you couldn’t help smiling. “Yeah, but-”
And he’d cut you off with a kiss. “Trust me. I like it. It’s simple. Plus it’s like indestructible. But if I ever want an upgrade, you’ll be the first to know.”
The only time Leon ever considered ditching his trusty flip phone and upgrading to something more advanced was when you would send him nudes. Seeing the masterpiece that is your body reduced to a handful of pixels on the tiny screen drove him fucking wild. Upon hearing the chime of his phone and seeing the small image of you gracing his screen, he’d find a moment alone to try and see the details. He’d hold the phone two inches away from his face trying to make out every last curve. Days when he got those pictures ended with nights where you got fucked on every surface in the house.
He’d come home from work, his eyes full of lust before he even saw you. You’d glide into the room with a knowing smile on your face. You wanted him just as bad as he wanted you.
“Hi, baby. How was work?” you ask, feigning innocence. You close the distance between the two of you and wrap your arms around him.
“Oh, you care about my work now, huh?” he asks, a smirk creeping onto his face as his arms return your embrace, “Doesn’t seem like it when you send me those cute pictures during the day, distracting me, making me think about you when I should be focused.”
Your lips part and your eyebrows raise in mock offense. “I only send those to help you, motivate you,” you tease as your fingers coast along his biceps, “Maybe if you had a real phone they wouldn’t bother you so much. You’d be able to see everything clearly and not be left imagining.”
“I don’t need to stress about pictures though when I got the real thing waiting at home for me every night,” he purrs as he leans in and starts kissing you.
You return the kiss with the same level of passion, lips moving with his as the two of you stumble over to the couch. You fall back onto the cushions with Leon on top of you. His hands already roam your body and begin removing articles of clothing. He wasn’t in the mood to take his time after having that grainy image of you gnawing at his mind all day.
“Fuck, baby. Every time… I can never get enough,” he grunts as he yanks your top over your head and tosses it to the side. His hands rub up and down your sides, the rough pads of his fingers dragging over your sensitive skin and making you squirm. In no time though, they’re on your breasts. He kneads the plump flesh as his lips trail down to your neck and collarbone, leaving a trail of saliva-coated skin in their wake.
He’s all over you all at once it seems. It’s overwhelming in the best way. You’re moaning and writhing on the couch, nearly trying to hump his leg while one of your hands tugs at his hair. You bite your lip and whimper as his lips move down over the swell of your chest.
He grabs your hips firmly and presses them down to the couch. His half-lidded eyes look up at you momentarily. “Quit squirming,” he breathes. He gives your chest a few more kisses while keeping his eyes locked with yours. “Need time with my pretty girl after I’ve been aching for her all day.”
You give a weak nod and focus on controlling your movements as he tugs your shorts off and drops them.
“Good girl,” he mutters before attaching his lips to one of your nipples and swirling his tongue around the peak. He hums in satisfaction as he feels the bud in his mouth. His fingers lazily stroke up and down your folds over your panties. He disconnects his mouth momentarily and looks up at you again with a smirk on his face.
“So wet already?” he teases, now being his turn to look smug, “You want me just as bad, don’t you? That’s why you send those pictures right? You’re missing Daddy while he’s at work?”
“Mhm, miss you so bad. It drives me crazy,” you say. A whimper escapes you as his fingers apply more pressure and his movements more strategically target your clit.
“I can tell. Makes you act like a little slut, huh?” he asks before he kisses down your stomach to the hem of your panties.
You feel your face getting hot at his comment, but you nod anyway. You bite your lip and keep your eyes locked with his.
He chuckles at your timid confirmation. “That’s ok, honey. Daddy’s here now. I’m gonna make sure you get all the attention you need. Can’t have my girl left wanting,” he says, pulling down your panties and putting them with your other discarded clothes.
He loops his arms around your thighs and pulls you closer so that you’re angled in a way he can reach you from his position on his knees. Your back is flat on the couch, and your legs are held over his shoulders. He doesn’t waste time, licking a stripe up your cunt and then delving his tongue inside of you.
Your head falls back onto the cushion in response. A moan escapes your throat at the sensation. Your sounds only increase in frequency and volume as he grips you tighter and fucks his tongue in and out of you. He watches you, relishing how he can pleasure you with so few touches. His tongue laps up your wetness and his mouth finds your clit again, sucking and flicking against the bundle of nerves just how you like.
His name and a variety of expletives leave your mouth while your hand slides into his hair and holds the blonde locks. Your hips twitch from the rising feelings of ecstasy in your tummy, but Leon’s hands keep you firmly in place. He devours you like a starved man, the hours of torture that little picture inflicted on him all paying off right now.
He’s skillfully swirling patterns onto your clit and occasionally exploring your insides. He knows you’re close because he can feel the way you’re pulsing and hear the way your moans and whines reach that slightly higher pitch. It only makes him work with more dedication.
“That’s right, sweetheart. C’mon, give it to Daddy. Let me taste it,” he grunts as he continues working you to the edge.
You cry out, your thighs quivering and your hips bucking as you succumb to release. You’re moaning with abandon, fingers clutching his hair as tight as possible. He groans into you from the sight in front of him.
You ride the high and he continues with his mouth throughout. When you reach the seeming conclusion, your chest is heaving and your limbs feel heavy, but Leon doesn’t stop. He continues on as if you were still on the way to your climax instead of coming down.
“Too much,” you whimper as your hips jerk and your hands make a weak attempt to push his head away, “Daddy, please.”
“Daddy, please?” he mocks with a laugh, “But this is what you wanted, babydoll. You wanted my attention, didn’t you?”
You whine, hips still squirming as your retort dies in your throat. It felt euphoric, it was just so much. This was what you wanted though.
“That’s what I thought,” he says before burying his face between your thighs again.
He continues eating you out until you’re an absolute mess. Your eyes are rolling back, nonstop whimpers fall from your lips, and your twitching thighs are clamped around Leon’s head. It was what he’d been wanting to see since he’d heard that chime in his back pocket.
“I’m gonna cum,” you slur. Your head felt cloudy from the numerous orgasms he’d brought you. A strangled cry tears through you as your body moves like it’s possessed. You convulse on the couch while his mouth makes you see stars for the umpteenth time.
Tears prick at your eyes from the intensity of your release, and finally, he starts easing off of you. He pulls your thighs off of his head and leans back. He wipes his chin that’s coated in your slick and licks his fingers. Seeing that alone has you clench around nothing which in turn spreads a smirk on his face.
“Good girl, baby,” he coos, planting a kiss on your inner thigh, “You did so well. I’m proud of you.”
He stands up from his knees, grunting as he gets to his feet and taking a moment to stretch. You can tell the extended amount of time in the position put some strain on him. Your lips curl into a small smile while adoration fills your hazy eyes.
“Your joints locking up on you, old man?” you tease with a quiet laugh.
“Don’t start,” he says, trying to sound stern, but you can see him suppressing his own smile, “Especially since I know you want more.”
That shuts you up because he’s right. He shakes his head and makes a mock sound of disappointment.
“I know you, baby. My dirty girl. Made you cum how many times, and you still want more,” he says. He begins stripping off his clothes into a pile next to yours. “My little whore would never turn down a chance to take my cock.”
Once his clothes are off, he languidly strokes himself a few times and climbs on top of you. He peppers some kisses on your face and starts to slide inside you. You were more than ready but still sensitive from the recent series of highs.
“Don’t worry, sweet girl. I’ll get you full of my cum in no time. Fuck all that neediness right out,” he murmurs into your ear, his breath on you sending chills down your spine.
You mewl and tighten around him in more ways than one. Your arms cling to his torso that hovers above you while your walls squeeze around him to take him deeper. He grunts and his head falls forward a little as he feels sparks of pleasure in his abdomen.
“There you go, angel. Taking me so perfect. My pretty girl. Made for me,” he says into your ear as he sinks into you completely.
You nod mindlessly, your head fogging up again as he fills you. He presses sloppy kisses to your neck as he starts pumping in and out. You’re both breathing heavily and allowing the pleasure to take over. One of your hands slides to his hair to rub his head while his hips snap against you.
He’s falling into the perfect rhythm with you, one that’s driving you both toward the goal line, when suddenly you hear a muffled guitar strum coming from the floor. Leon groans and you burst into laughter as you hear the ringtone you had set for him as a joke.
His movements get weaker as his focus is drawn elsewhere, but he doesn’t stop rocking his hips. He reaches down to the floor where his phone is ringing in the pocket of his crumpled pants. He fishes it out and shifts so he’s kneeling while drilling into you.
He holds the phone up and squints to read the tiny caller ID on the flip phone which makes you laugh harder through moans. He smirks at your laughter and clamps a hand over your mouth. “Shut up, I gotta take this,” he says teasingly.
He whips open the phone, the maneuver causing you to moan and squeeze around him again. He winces at the sensation, nearly unable to restrain himself from giving into his carnal urges to groan and slam into you harder.
Your eyes widen as he brings the phone to his ear without stopping his hips and in the most monotonous voice says “Kennedy here.”
It’s good that his hand is over your mouth to keep you quiet. The contrast of his movements and that voice have the sparks of pleasure igniting into flames in your belly. Seeing how he handles his dumbass flip phone so smoothly has your arousal nearly pooling on the couch.
He listens to the call while grinning at you struggling to keep yourself somewhat under control. “Uh-huh. Yeah. Sounds about right,” he drones as the person on the other end goes on and on.
His strokes are just as deep as before, nudging you in the perfect spots repeatedly. Your eyes roll back as you feel yourself getting near the peak. A soft whimper escapes you, loud enough to pierce the barrier of Leon’s hand. His hips sputter at the noise and his face contorts. He lets out a quiet grunt but quickly catches himself before losing it further.
“What? Yeah, I’m listening,” he says, his tone growing a little impatient, “Look, I’m just wrapped up in something right now. Could you not have just told me this before I left?”
You know he’s getting closer himself and struggling to hold back. You can tell from the way his jaw is clenched and his eyes are projecting his rising frustration he has for the person who made this call.
“Yes, I understand. I’ll deal with it tomorrow,” he says, effectively ending the conversation. 
Then, to hang up, he doesn’t press a button. Instead, he flicks his wrist and shuts the flip phone with a clack.
You throw your head back against the couch cushion and a loud moan rips through your throat. You shudder as a wave of pleasure courses through you after witnessing something so unexplainably hot.
His eyebrows raise in amusement, noticing how much you enjoyed that. “Hmm, I’m not hearing any complaints about the phone now,” he says. He’s trying to tease, but his voice is husky with arousal. He maintains his grin as he drops the phone to the floor again and returns to his previous position which was closer to you.
“Careful, you’re gonna break it,” you whimper.
“Nah baby, I told you that thing is indestructible,” he breathes and starts pounding you into the couch mercilessly.
You bite your lip and resume clinging to him, your fingers digging into his back. You both are panting, expressions going lax as you focus on chasing the high.
“Daddy, ‘m gonna cum,” you mewl, unable to contain yourself for much longer.
“Go ahead, sweetheart,” he says into your ear, his voice taking on more of a growl, “Daddy’s right there with you. You deserve it for being so good for me. Being nice and quiet while I was on the phone.”
As soon as you have permission, you give into another release. Your legs shake and your arms cling to him tighter as the euphoria shoots through you. You’re gasping for air and whining while squirming beneath him. Soon it’s just too much for Leon. He tightens his grip on you and slams deep before groaning and draining himself inside of you.
He rocks in and out a few more times before slowly pulling out. He then sits up on the couch and sinks back into the cushions. You follow by sitting up as well and curling up against his side. He pulls you into his lap, stroking your hair away from your face and kissing your forehead. The two of you sit in comfortable silence for a while until he gazes down at you with a smug look in his eyes.
“I knew the flip phone was a turn-on,” he says, clearly pleased with himself.
You scoff. “It is not. It was just… it was the situation,” you defend.
“Sure, but you were tightest when I was messing with the phone,” he says knowingly.
“That doesn’t mean anything.”
He laughs at your stubbornness and gives you another kiss. “You can admit it, baby. I won’t judge. Really, if you like it that much, maybe I’ll show you how strong it can vibrate later.”
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arieslost · 21 days
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talk | op81
summary: oscar loves to talk your ear off.
word count: 1,276
masterlist — join my tag list here!
© arieslost 2024. DO NOT REPOST WITHOUT PERMISSION.
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everyone who had told you that oscar piastri wasn’t much of a talker was a bold-faced liar.
that, or maybe they just never got to see that side of him.
before you started dating oscar, you totally believed it. the first few interactions the two of you had were awkward and brief, usually ending in you thinking that he actually hated you and only engaged in small talk to be nice.
the oscar you know now is nothing like the oscar you first met, and even though you’ve been with him for the better part of two years, his ability to talk for hours is still as shocking to you as it was in the beginning.
it started out innocently enough. the first time you hadn’t been able to attend a race, oscar called you the moment he was back in his hotel room. you’d only been dating for five months at that point, and you vividly remember your shock when you accepted the facetime call and he started talking at a mile a minute. you’d barely gotten out a “hello” before he started recapping his entire day in precise detail. he didn’t even stop to take a drink of water in his enthusiasm.
that turned into the two of you developing a routine. every time you couldn’t make it to a race, oscar would call you at the end of the day and tell you everything he’d been dying to tell you.
“you could text me some of this stuff, you know,” you told him once, and he had wrinkled his nose cutely.
“why would i text it to you when i can just tell you about it on the phone?” he’d responded, like your suggestion was completely outlandish.
it’s endearing, really, the way he’s always so excited every time you pick up the phone. like he is right now.
“hi, honey!” he says brightly the moment the call connects and you can see each other’s faces.
“hey, oz,” you smile, your mood immediately lifting at the sound of his voice. “how was your day?”
“oh, i have so much to tell you,” he leans forward, his hair obscuring the camera for a moment before he leans back with a piece of paper in his hand.
“what is that?” you ask, watching as he unfolds it.
“this, my love, is my list.” he says, turning it around so you can see the way the page is full of his writing, not only on the lines but in the margins, too. “if i can read my own handwriting.”
“busy day?” you pull the hood of your sweatshirt further over your head so it covers more of your screen.
“you have no idea. i don’t even know where to start.” he sighs, eyes scanning the paper before he looks back up at the camera. “but i want to hear about your day first.”
“ah, it was okay. boring. i got so used to traveling around with you that i don’t know what to do now that i’m home all by myself.” it’s a lie, of course.
you wouldn’t miss oscar’s birthday for the world, and that was why you’d been so believable when you told him that you were so sorry, but you couldn’t make it to japan for the next race. even thinking about not being with him for his birthday was enough to upset you, so he bought it easily. conspiring with mark and lando, you’d gotten your hands on a plane ticket and formed a plan to get to the hotel with oscar being none the wiser.
which is how you’re here, at the end of the hallway on his hotel floor, waiting for the perfect time to interject.
“oh, i have to tell you about how free practice went, the second session, not the first,” he’s saying, squinting a little at the paper. “i wrote it over something else and i can’t see what it says. whatever. anyway, it’s raining here, and, like, half the cars didn’t end up going out for the second session. i was just trying to do my best for the session but i ended up setting the fastest lap! i didn’t even know until i got out of the car. did you watch? i don’t know if you did, i forgot to ask you, but i think it was a 1:34 or something like that. i could’ve been faster, obviously, but it was raining. its still raining right now actually which kind of sucks. i wouldn’t mind if you were here, but it’s just miserable and cold.” he pauses to take a breath. “wait, where are you?”
well that you weren’t expecting. “at home… where else would i be?” you reply, hoping that your confusion looks genuine.
“your background looks… i dunno.” he presses his lips together. “doesn’t look the same.”
“well, i’m at home,” you repeat, trying to come up with something on the fly. “pretending that i’m talking to you face to face instead of through the phone, like always.”
“ah, yeah. i do that all the time,” he admits, giving up on his scrutinization of what little he can see behind your hood.
“i miss you,” he says then, and its absolute hell knowing you can’t knock on his door just yet.
“i miss you too, oz.” you whisper. “keep telling me about your day?”
“sure, honey.” he gives you a soft smile, once again consulting his piece of paper. “so after the second session, i went and got dinner— oh wait, i forgot to tell you what happened earlier! i left the hotel room—”
you were hoping to let him tire himself out a bit from talking so much before approaching the door, but with every little detail of his day he shares you wish more and more that he was saying it directly to you and not through the phone, so you give up on being patient and knock three times.
“hold on, baby. someone’s at the door.” he says on the other end of the call, getting up from where he’s sitting on the bed and leaving his phone behind, so you end the call to free both of your hands.
the look on his face when he opens the door is priceless. “you’re joking.”
“i figured you should tell me the rest in person,” you say. “besides, i’d be damned if i missed your birthday.”
“you’re joking,” he repeats, pulling you and your suitcase into the room and wrapping you into a tight hug. “you’re actually here.”
“of course i’m here.” you laugh, kissing his shoulder through the loose material of his worn out t-shirt. “i don’t want to be anywhere else but here.”
“i’m so happy,” is all your enthusiastic, talkative boyfriend says before kissing you, smiling against your lips the whole time.
“you hung up on me?” its the first thing he says once the two of you are cuddled up in bed, and your jaw drops.
“seriously? i’m right here, and you’re gonna come for me for hanging up on you?”
“i would never hang up on you, but whatever,” he rolls his eyes, but cuddles you closer all the same. “okay, you have to know what lando told me last night about this one thing he did over winter break. it doesn’t sound bad at first, but i promise you it gets so much worse.”
you sigh in content, happier than anything to be in oscar’s arms and listening to him talk your ear off for the foreseeable future. you would never lie about it— you don’t want to be anywhere else but here, with him.
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note: happy oscar dayyy!! wishing my fellow aries the best birthday ever and i hope you all enjoyed this 🫶🏼 i low key hate it but hopefully that’s just me lolz
my inbox is always open for comments, criticism, and conversation! feel free to pop in!
reblogs are greatly appreciated <33
tags: @venusacrossthestars @67-angelofthelordme-67 @emails-i-can-send @nelly187 @cixrosie @fangirl-dot-com @sainzluvrr @imheretoread @mellowarcadefun @yourbane @monsieurbacteria6 @c-losur3 @papayatori @ssprayberrythings @namgification @maih23 @evlkking @witchycarmen @ilovethispookie @maxverstappenfan79 @sya-skies @sweatrevenge5436-blog @kimis-gloves @mia-rrrs @decafmickey @customsbyjcg-blog @bigheartsthings @tania2748 @scuderiadevils @iloveyou3000morgan @ctrlyomomma @hiireadstuff @daemyratwst @arian-directioner @evelyn-ny @avg-golden-retriever @likedbygaslyy @lightsoutletsgo
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kuromochimi · 2 months
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baby I’m nothing like your broke ex
gojo satoru, nanami kento
Content warnings: mentions of past toxic relationships, not proof read
🔜 suguru geto, kamo choso, higuruma hiromi
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Gojo Satoru
Satoru was rich. Like rich RICH. You first noticed this the moment you met him when you spilled coffee on his shirt then offered to buy him a new one instead. Instant regret when you realized that his shirt was worth more than your entire closet combined.
Being in a relationship with him was… well it was an adjustment. You lived a fairly simple life before you met him. It wasn’t a bad life. You still got to spend on your wants here and there but you had to budget such things much like any other common person had to. On the other hand, the word budget was non-existent to satoru especially when it came to you. He quite literally gave you everything. A few weeks into the relationship though, he had noticed how reluctant you were to accept his presents. You didn’t seem uncomfortable, just.. reluctant. He toned down a bit after this realization. But god he just couldn’t figure out why you were almost unwilling to accept anything at all from him, even food, even a ride home, even his hoodie which he already said you could keep. “Baby” he called to which you responded by looking his way. “Why do you never want to accept my presents?” He asked before he got up to approach you, immediately hugging you from the back as soon as you were within reach. “Hmm it’s not that I don’t want to.. it’s just.. you have to let me get used to these things first, okay?” satoru raised his brow “baby I know that shitty ex of yours can’t come close to how much I spoil you but was he that stingy?” at first satoru was only joking but your silence meant it was probably true. “So he was?” He asked as his chin was resting on your shoulder. “Come on satoru, he’s a thing of the past. He doesn’t matter anymore, ‘kay?” You tried your best to steer away from having to tell your boyfriend in detail but he’s right. Your ex was stingy as hell. It’s not like you ever asked for anything too much in fact, you don’t ever remember asking for anything at all. All the times he had to pick you up, he asked for gas money which seemed fair enough but it wasn’t just that. The man loved going on and extravagant dates but was never willing to fish out more than gas money. He adored receiving presents from you but could never be bothered to get you even the cheapest flowers. He used to say that he was just saving up to be able to give you the life you deserve but 8 years of having to sustain the luxurious lifestyle of a bum just made you snap hence, the break up. Satoru’s tightening embrace woke you from that little flashback. “Okay baby, I’ll make sure to spoil you but don’t hesitate to tell me if I go overboard hm? Love you” he gave you a kiss on the cheek and god, you felt so lucky to have found such a good man.
Nanami Kento
It quite literally took years of yearning for nanami to be finally able to date you. He was your junior in university and your junior at work as well. All that time, he had to witness you be head over heels for your then boyfriend, another one of his seniors. He thought the man might have put a spell on you because for the love of god, he could not see what kept you with the jerk for so long. Having observed your relationship from when he was a college freshman up to when he was a work colleague, your ex never even tried to mask how selfish he was with you. The man dawned expensive watches and drove a not so cheap car, he loved going to expensive places with his friends but with you? He wouldn’t hesitate to pass you the bill (like 85% of the time) whenever you went on dates, bought you nothing but cheap jewelry and quality reject flowers just because they were cheaper. Even worse, he also let you take the crowded train home everyday despite him driving to and from work everyday. He just couldn’t be bothered to pick you up because your workplace was “too far” and gas was expensive. If he really was struggling, it wouldn’t have been a problem but any person could see that he was more than capable of treating you better. He just didn’t want to.
Dating nanami was like a breath of fresh air. It’s not like you were materialistic in the first place but receiving pretty flowers and having someone make sure you’s comfortable and safe felt so heartwarming. On top of that, nanami didn’t make it feel like he was obligated to do any of that. He just genuinely wanted to care for you. It was all new to you that you even had to ask him to stop spoiling you too much, you felt bad accepting all that he was giving. “I know you don’t need them and I know you’re capable but let me do these things for you, hm?” Was what he’d always say and despite bot being able to voice it out to him yet, there is so much love in you knowing that it was possible to be treated this way. With so much care and love and concern.
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Top ten stressful weekends of my life that is quite frankly still ongoing. Can I get a break please 🫠🫠🫠 tw suicide in the tags
#basically one of my friends is suicidal and disappeared for an unknown reason two nights ago after sending some worrying texts#he’s fine as of now#but things have been a little weird between the two of us and I am pretty much the sole pillar of his mental support network#he only talks to me. refuses to go into therapy. he doesn’t want help#and the last time he pulled a stunt like this it was an attempt which I didn’t know about until a week or two ago when he told me details#which. too many. too many details. it still makes me sick to think about#my compartmentalization is second to none though so i have to make an effort to think about it to Yknow. think about it#but he sends me a text and he’s like are we still friends? after we didn’t go on a walk bc we went to a show instead#and it’s like. ok. this could end very badly if I don’t take care of this immediately. and I couldn’t get a hold of him for 2 hours#he finally picked up but didn’t want to talk to me. the next day he still hadn’t responded to anyone#he didn’t show up to an event he was supposed to and we decided to go to our ra friend. police got called bc he wasn’t home or responding#he came home about an hour later. don’t know where he was. he finally said he wouldn’t do anything. we haven’t spoken since 3 days ago#he and I dated for all of 2 minutes. it was weird for both of us. we have a friend in common who Im with now. idk how much of a part that is#it’s not all of it. bc he acted fine to us. and he very obviously sulks when he’s upset#so I don’t know what set him off. but I can’t keep being the only support bc he won’t find more. it’s killing me#i drove to where he tried this last time. i didn’t expect to find him alive. thankfully I didn’t find him at all#i cannot keep doing this. i can’t. i cannot keep draining my own life to keep someone else alive#this isn’t the first time. and if he keeps this up it’s not the last#i haven’t been able to respond to anyone this weekend. I’m getting texts that people r worried I’m so unresponsive#I’m fine. my mental instability comes from being able to hold myself together as the world falls apart at a young age#so I can hold myself together just fine now. but i wish I didn’t have to. but I do#he’s coming over in a half hour to talk. and I have to compress everything I’ve dealt with this weekend to not set him off again#idk what the problem is. I’m dating someone else after a short time? it’s another of our good friends? things have been weird?#i see the girl I’m with more than him? I’m the only person he’s willing to talk to and we couldn’t go on a walk?#here’s the thing. if I would’ve gone he would’ve been just fine. that’s the worst part. it’s not my fault. i know it’s not. but I could’ve#stopped this before it was an issue. i don’t want that pressure. i don’t want every changed plan to be an attempt#i hope this conversation goes well. bc at some point I won’t be able to do this anymore#idk how many times I can go searching for the body of my suicidal friend. i don’t want to be the one to find him#soup talks#tw suicide
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dantakeyoman · 1 year
Note
the, “his secret mate.” part in your fic where she took the bullet from neteyam had me tearing up huhuhu can we get the detail of their intimacy in relationship before that war? not always to be nsfw, but fluff with full of lovesick moments aarghhwbd
You and Neteyam Mate In Secret (Slight-NSFW / Comfort)
Prologue of "You Take The Bullet"
CW: nsfw implied ( and a little described ), right after his second birth ( he is now a tribe-observed man, and part of the People ), you and Neteyam are so in love, kinda magical ngl, reminder that Utral Aymokriyä is the place Jake and Neytiri mated, Neteyam is a consent king
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"You skxawng! Where are you taking me?" you laughed, Neteyam's hand in yours as he ran through the forest with you, his trademark smile plastered on his face.
"You'll see," he teased, jumping off a large tree root and landing on the mossy ground.
You did your best to keep up, jumping as well, but you landed off balance, and were about to fall.
Neteyam noticed this and quickly turned around, yanking you toward him so you landed in his chest, instead of the mud.
You sighed, pulling your face out of his pecs, and resting on it instead.
You were tired.
This man had made the both of you sprint from Hometree, all the way to....wherever here was.
Technically, the both of you weren't even supposed to be out right now.
Neteyam had just had his Second Birth, and was supposed to be spending it with the People.
But through the commotion, he managed to sneak the both of you out.
"I must show you something. Come!" his words echoed in your head.
If Neteyam wanted to sneak out, then it must be something incredibly important.
"Irayo," you panted, breathless as you took your quick break.
A dark tint of blue rested on his cheeks as he nodded, his hands instinctively going to rest on your hips.
"Kea tìkin," he assured, averting his eyes from you so you could not see his blush.
Noticing the slight purple-ish glow that was shining from behind him, you lifted your head, peeking over his shoulder and gasping at the sight.
Utral Aymokriyä.
"Oh, Neteyam!" you gasped, quickly breaking from the hug and walking over to the large tree.
It stood tall, and proud, like the might of thousands lay hiding in it's branches.
Despite being Omaticaya, you had never been to this place. Though you had constantly told Neteyam how you dreamed of doing so one day.
Out-stretching your arms, you walked toward the base of the tree, smiling as you allowed all of it’s tendrils to rake over you, softly.
Neteyam did the same, but not without letting his gaze linger on you.
He couldn't help but smile as he watched you experience the tree in wonder.
You were adorable.
The tree bathed you in purple light, accentuating your every feature.
Your beauty was a sight to behold, that was what caught his attention first. 
Your face was sculputure-like, ethereal.
Even if he were to stare at your face for hours, he wouldn’t be able to find a single thing wrong. 
You laughed, dancing with a tendril of the tree as if it were another person.
And your voice. It came out so smooth and silky, like his favorite song on repeat.
Sitting down on the ground, you rested your hands on the ground, shutting your eyes and allowing yourself to feel the beautiful energy the tree was emitting.
It wasn’t just your physical features, either.
It was the way you carried yourself, the way you were strong, and tough, yet soft and kind for your people and Pandora.
You had this man weak in the knees every time you crossed paths, and it was getting to the point where it was affecting his day-to-day life.
All he thought of was you. Eat, sleep, breathe, repeat. You.
You were a distraction, but a beautiful one. One that deserved to be protected by every ounce of his being.
"My mother took me here when I was no older than a baby," Neteyam started, walking over and sitting down next to you.
"She said this was a place for prayers to be heard. ....And sometimes answered."
He took his queue, making tsaheylu with a soft sigh, before turning back to you, who was watching him in peaceful, silent awe.
It made him blush.
You did the same, a soft gasp leaving you lips as you shut your eyes, the songs and chants of past peoples dancing through your ears, as clear as day.
When you opened your eyes again, Neteyam chuckled at your child-like expression, your mouth slightly gaped in wonder.
“I can hear them,” you nodded, eyes trained on the tendril you were bonded with.
Neteyam disconnected the bond, and looked up at the mighty tree, your gaze burning holes into his face.
"My mother told me that now I am truly one of the People, I can make my bow out of the wood of Hometree.....and choose a woman," he cheesed, the thought of you being his mate bringing a smile to his face.
But you did not think the same.
Oh. He has already chosen.
You expression fell, but you did your best to keep your smile happy.
"Who are you going to choose? We have many good women for a future Olo'eyktan," you tearfully recommended, a quiet gasp leaving you lips as a atokirina floated down to you, resting in your palms.
Neteyam snapped his head over to you, confused.
What in the world are you talking about?
"Eyati is a good hunter."
"I do not want Eyati," he quickly shut down, looking at you intently.
Lovingly.
"Oh," you nodded. He didn't want a huntress, then.
"Ilyena is a good dancer."
Neteyam internally facepalmed.
You were not understanding.
He thought he was being quite obvious with his admiration.
His frequent touches, talking of finding a woman, taking you to a spot where people literally go to mate.
You were the only one he wants. The only one he could ever want.
What else would he have to do to get that through your head?
Once the atokirina flew away, you returned your hand to the earth, where Neteyam smoothly interlocked his with yours.
"I do not think you are understanding. I have already chosen," he smiled, looking down at your conjoined hands.
"Oh," you sighed, averting your eyes from him. "Who is the lucky woman?"
Oh, for Eywa's sake.
He groaned, cupping your face in his hand and turning you to face him, where he roughly landed his lips on yours, practically knocking the wind out of you.
At first, you were shocked. All this talk of women, and now he was kissing you?
But you decided to let a good thing be.
You kissed back, matching his roughness as you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer.
His hands immediately went to your waist, resting his hands on your hips as he pulled out from the kiss, staring at you like a lovesick fool.
And his heart seemed to pick up speed when he saw that you were looking at him the exact same way, a beautiful smile on your face.
It seems you liked it better when he showed, not told.
He would remember that for the future.
"(y/n), it is you. You are the woman I have chosen. I cannot think of anyone better to be at my side," he beamed, switching his gaze to the glowing tendrils around him, along with the many atrokirina that decided to make an arrival.
"Do you not see? Eywa has chosen us for each other."
You were on the verge of happy tears.
You had loved this man for so, so, so long, and so hard. And to hear that he has loved you with the same intensity, if not more, was something that warmed you from the inside out.
"I see you, my Neteyam," you smiled, cupping his face in your hands, resting your forehead on his.
"I see you, my love," he smiled back, giving your lips a peck.
It wasn't enough.
As he pulled back, you chased him, attaching your lips once more, throwing your arms over his shoulders.
He groaned, his hands softly caressing your hips as he kissed back with just as much fervor.
"My Neteyam," you sighed, trailing your kisses from his lips, down to his jawline.
He understood your quiet plea, shifting his position so he sat on his knees, before lifting you into his lap.
With this new angle, he peppered your chest with loving, heavy kisses, making you sigh once more.
You raked your hands through his hair, one sensually trailing down his braid and carefully holding up his kuru.
Using your other hand, you found yours, and were about you connect them when Neteyam stopped you.
"My love, are you sure? We do not have to do this if you are not ready," he asked, firmly.
Don't get him wrong. He wanted do to this more than anything in the world.
Having you in his arms, kissing him like this, was his greatest dream come true.
But just because it was his, did not mean it was yours.
And he wanted you to do this of your own volition.
"I am ready, Neteyam. I have always been ready," you assured, resting your forehead on his as you landed another heavy kiss on his lips.
With that, he nodded, and you made tsaheylu.
And the moan you two set loose surely reached the stars.
The feeling that enveloped the both of you was too much.
You could feel everything the other was feeling perfectly. Their heartbeat, their longing, their love.
Oh, the feeling of Neteyam's love was flooding your senses so much it was overwhelming.
Every piece of exposed skin he touched burned with fiery heat, but it felt so, so good.
You had no idea he loved you to this extent.
And as he lay you down on the mossy ground, him placing feather-light kisses across your exposed chest, the vision of children flashed through your head.
His vision.
They were your children, the kids running around the tent as the two of you lay in the corner, curled into each other.
Even in a moment so intimate, even as he entered you, his thoughts still traveled to something so wholesome and domestic.
It made you blush uncontrollably, and he sensed this.
"I....hnngh...see you, my (y/n). And there...fuck....is no one else I can see to be the mother of my children...shit...," he said huskily, peppering kisses on your shoulder with each thrust.
As tears welled in your eyes, you tightened your grip around his neck, another moan escaping you lips.
"I see you....ohhh!....my Neteyam," you sighed, bringing your hands to rest on his chest.
But for the first time, the both of you felt like that word didn't express enough.
Your love for each other expanded farther than just I see you, it was indescribable.
There was no Na'vi word for it.
But there was an English one.
One Jake had taught both of you, respectfully.
"I love you!" the two of you exclaimed in unison as you finished together, Neteyam making his final thrust.
And as you both lay on the ground, intertwined, coming down from your high, Neteyam said something that made you feel all the happiness in the world.
"I am with you now, (y/n)," he sighed, a tired smile on his face.
"We are mated for life."
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helluvapoison · 2 months
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For All to See
Lucifer Morningstar x Reader x Lilith
Lilith has Lucifer and Lucifer has Lilith. Their eyes are well trained for snakes in the garden, they’re able to watch each other’s backs with ease. Everyone wants to know, just who the fuck are you to the King and Queen of Hell?
ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ
• Technically speaking, they don’t need you
• Your heart lurches at the constant reminders
• Everywhere you look there’s capable hands doing anything you could do, and doing it better
• The guards around the Morningstar estate are appreciated and skilled but merely for show, their wise (albeit chaotic) council of Princes have never led them astray and they have more willing servants than they know what to do with
• It’d be impossible to forget how agonizingly obvious it is that you’re not needed beside them. Occasionally it was a paralyzing thought. You were nothing without them but they could continue on just fine without you
• And Lilith, ethereal, graceful, benevolent Lilith, noticed this. Her own heart ached for you, she loved you!
• You tenderly brushed her hair when she hadn’t even rubbed the sleep from her eyes. Combined with her husband’s efforts, you would make her feel beautiful when her mind told her the opposite. You would be on your feet beside her all day, shooting little thumbs ups that restored her energy when she was nearly depleted. Your unfailing attendance from her concerts to afternoon tea brought a comforting sense of normalcy to the disorder of the realm she ruled
• Lucifer, who loved you no less than she, was furious at himself for not realizing on his own
• You were his alarm clock, gently coaxing him out of bed and making the day seem more inviting than it did when he opened his eyes. You snuck into his room when everyone else (Lilith aside) was banished, claiming only to drop off a tray of snacks but would sit with him for hours on end just so that he wouldn’t be alone. When the world was too big, his own thoughts too heavy, it was you that made him feel bigger and stronger
• And you thought of yourself as inconsequential!?
• Blasphomy.
• They would not let this stand another fucking second
• They covered all their bases, working from the inside out
• You were instructed to join them for a portrait. Lucifer picked your outfit while Lilith did your hair then they sandwiched you between them. It took several hours and you ached from standing still for so long but the painting looked absolutely marvelous. Lilith ordered it to be hung in the lobby
• “Not the bedroom?” You asked quietly, tilting your head up at her
• “As much as I’d love to, no. This needs to be seen by our guests! Besides, I have your darling face right there every morning.” She replied sweetly and kissed your cheek on her way out
• You were utterly floored when you saw a detailed third chair, right to Lucifer’s, in the throne room. Meetings were only held here once a month for the public to bring their qualms to the royals but they took a full day to bring to conclusion. Lucifer’s smile widened at your reaction
• “Do you like it?” He asked knowingly, “It’s for you.”
• “Me? I— yes! Yes, it’s lovely. I just don’t understand, I-I was alright standing.” You blink rapidly, your mind racing to catch up with his words
• “Don’t be silly, dove! These matters are a bore and take eternity. This was long overdue.” Lucifer takes your hand and presses a kiss to your knuckles, smiling at you apologetically
• Polygamy wasn’t something to clutch pearls over down here and you were never a dirty secret. Magazines, networks, media just happened to only feature the King and Queen of Hell (Later, Lucifer would always point out the blurry spec that was you behind them or to the side or cut off the page) So when you were yanked between them during their red carpet debut, you stared at the camera flashes like a deer in the headlights. Their grips on either of your hands kept you from floating too high
• While your view on the situation changed drastically, it wasn’t atonement enough for Lilith and Lucifer. They never wanted you to feel immaterial ever again
• “You’re not nothing to us,” Lucifer said, holding your left hand. He hid his face in the crook of your neck where you could feel him smiling against your skin
• “We would never abandon you,” Lilith whispered while slipping a matching golden band around your finger. She had you sitting in her lap, facing away from her. She held your hand up for you to see the new obvious, your next reminder of their devotion for you
• Suffocating on their love for you, you choked back a sob to not ruin the moment. Lilith wrapped her arms around you and Lucifer, bringing you both closer to her heart
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eamour · 4 months
Text
dream the dream.
think of your life as a dream. think of all of the things surrounding you as objects who are completely under your control and can only do, say and move according to your commands — because that’s what it is! a dream only you are entirely in charge of.
postscript before you dive into this post, i would like to give credits to edward art as this post has been inspired by his lecture "dream the dream" which is the 17th part of his series on reddit!
this is your dream.
this dream belongs to you as you are its dreamer. what you think of appears the second it comes to your mind. you can do anything you want, simply because you can dream anything you want. you can witness anything you want, you can experience anything you want, you can even incorporate your senses and see, feel, taste, smell and touch things to your liking. being able to dream any dream gives you a feeling of relief, of power, of confidence and certainty. you know you can have anything you want the minute you want it. but what if you felt this exact way about THIS life?
dream a greater dream.
if you can imagine anything you want, go into as much detail as you like and make it come to pass, why wouldn’t you do it? wouldn’t it be your greatest desire to explore what you are capable of doing? what would you dream of? what would you imagine? what would you create?
the transformative dream.
see, this dream of yours is as malleable and as changeable as it gets. you cannot make any "mistakes" since anything you create, you can correct. you aren’t tied to anything, there are no promises between you and your creation, you owe nothing and nobody anything. everything can easily be transformed and adjusted. the world is at your command!
imagine the feeling.
what i would advise you to do is to imagine and "dream" as if everything you are now desiring to have is present. it’s here. it exists. and it’s yours, in this given moment.
get rid of the outer world and anything physical that depicts and obstacle or unfavourable circumstance to you.
let go of the idea to "try to manifest", to "hope to get", to "wish to have" or to "want to be".
and last but not least, change your inner-world, your imagination, your DREAM to your deepest wish and make it a reality. start to live your desires.
everything is a feeling.
the reason i said to no longer "try to manifest", to "hope to get", to "wish to have" or to "want to be" is because all of these are FEELINGS. feelings that declare you are not in possession of what you want, at least not yet. "affirming to get", "trying to resolve", "manifesting against", "attempting to make something happen", "intending to manifest" are all feelings that will accompany you once you enter the act of imagination — and guess what? they are more than likely to prevent and disrupt you from actually feeling the way you would want to feel.
dream from within.
i know, we technically all already "dream from within" but with "within" i'm actually referring to what or who you deeply and truly wish to have or be. dream from a place where you don’t accept less than you want, where you are unwilling to settle for less and where you simply cannot hold back from imagining what you want to its greatest detail.
a word to the dreamer.
be bold. be stubborn. leave the world as it is for there is nothing to do and nothing to force on the outside. all the change that you could want has to come and be done from within. so only deal with your inner world and promise yourself that you will only let yourself imagine things which are beneficial for you and accept it as your one and only reality. as edward art said, KNOW your power and FEEL your abilities to be true and infinite!
with love, ella.
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