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#one day I’ll figure out how to draw them…..one day
swee7dream · 3 days
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haii!!! i saw u posted the 127 masterlist im SO excited to see what u write for them (and wayv in the near future)
could u write cg! yuta w a little!f! reader whos regressing around him for the first timr... thatd be cute methinks :3 thank u for ur time and consideration
- @aeriaeri
greetings and introductions cg!yuta x reader
genres agere content, established relationship, fluff warnings i wrote about watching a movie i've never seen before, indirect mention of yuta as an idol dni if you sexualize age regression word count 1802
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Yuta has done lots of hard things in his life. Really hard things.
He’s traveled to a foreign country with nothing but a dream and a Japanese-to-Korean dictionary. He’s lived all of his adult life in front of a camera and under the harsh criticisms of the internet. He’s watched his friends (read: Haechan and Taeyong) live-react to his acting projects in person.
But no matter what he’s experienced in the past, it’s always the now that feels the most threatening and terrifying. Now that he’s standing outside of your door, Yuta feels his heart in his throat and his stomach and coming out of his-
The undoing of your lock pulls him out of his thoughts, gulping and clutching the large stuffed animal he ordered a couple of days ago closer to his chest.
He hopes you like him.
“Hey.” You don’t look at him in the eyes when you open the door, only step back for him to come in. “How was the trip?”
“Fine. Good.” He clears his throat into his free hand as he steps in, looking around your place. It’s not as if he hasn’t been here before. He’s come over several times, the number of sleepovers innumerable in his mind. “You?”
It’s a Sunday, you have no reason to be out at all today. Still, you answer, relocking the door as he takes off his shoes and places them next to yours.
“Fine too. Take a seat,” you invite, shuffling your way to the kitchen. “I’m getting a glass of water. You want one?”
“I’ll take a coke if you have any.”
“You got it.”
You take the bottle from the fridge, still as full as the last time your boyfriend came over because you hate how the carbonation bites the inside of your throat when it goes down. You’re careful when pouring it, the light foam takes over more and more of the glass until it nearly overflows, the soda itself filling only about 20% of the glass.
As you wait for the bubbles to fizzle out so you can pour again, Yuta takes a spot on your couch. He’s stiff as a doll, feeling almost strange that his knees didn’t creak when he sat down. This apartment that has your scent and all your belongings, it’s the same but oh so different all at once. He feels almost stupid for not noticing all these little things before.
Under his feet is the fluffy green rug with no table over it, left open for napping and drawing and crafting. It’s an incomplete picture, being able to see your figure in his mind but not any details because… he hasn’t met you yet. Not this side of you that you’ve shown to a number of people you could count on one hand.
“Babe.”
The bottle of Coca-Cola is back in the fridge and you’re standing in front of him now. It’s the first time you meet each other’s eyes today and the anxieties of the past 24 hours seem to flow out through the spaces in his teeth, revealed when he smiles.
Your standing in between his legs gives him the perfect chance to wrap his arms around your torso and pull you close enough for him to rest his chin on your tummy.
“I missed you,” he says.
“I missed you too,” you reply, feeling somewhat cocky at the familiar lovesick look on Yuta’s face. He makes you feel loved and loveable. It’s strange, but you can’t help but want to monopolize that expression to only you like a dragon with its hoard of treasure. “Can you take your soda now? My hand is freezing.”
“Mmm… can’t I just hold you a little longer? Please?” he whines, dropping his nose to tickle your stomach.
“You can hold me on the couch, you big baby.”
You hear mumbles of ‘it’s not the same’ but he relents, taking the glass from you so you can curl up next to him, throwing the blanket folded over the back of the sofa on your lap when you begin feeling cold. The doll Yuta brought is crushed between the couch arm and his side when he scooches over to make room for you to lay next to him.
“I’m nervous,” you admit, cheek on his upper arm.
That gets a hum of confusion from him, echoing out from the glass as he drinks.
“Why?”
“What if I scare you off? What if you’re, like, ‘yeah no, I’m checking out of this freakshow.’?”
“’I’m checking out of this freakshow’?” He smiles and you can’t help but break too. It’s ridiculous for him to say that, especially to you of all people, but it usually takes expressing your anxieties aloud to re-realize that.
“…anyway. Put on something on the TV.” You tap him gently.
“Cirque de Soleil?”
“You’re annoying.”
“Moulin Rouge?”
“If you don’t-”
“Oh, I got it! Dumbo.” He struggles for a moment before pulling the soft plush doll of a gray elephant in his hand. He holds it like an award with a grin so wide you wouldn’t have guessed his heart is nearly beating out of his chest, hoping he didn’t push you when you’re not ready yet.
You glare at him for a good five seconds in silence, the tilt of his head faking innocence.
“Do what you want.” You sigh at his smugness, gently taking the toy into your hands, your thumbs coursing over the fur before holding it close.
“I always do, baby.” Your face is peppered in kisses that taste like coke. “You like it?”
“It’s okay.”
The original 1941 motion picture Dumbo is considered one of the studio's shortest animated films at 64 minutes long. It doesn’t take long for the two of you to get comfortable, ten minutes in fact.
Around 20 minutes in, Yuta called for the smart home assistant to turn the lights down and give you a smirk (“What a thoughtful gift! I wonder who was so considerate so as to buy you something like that.”). Around minute 42 is when he notices how quiet you’ve gotten, looking over to see you with your thumb’s nail in between your teeth and a twinkle his mind is trying to help him recall in his memories in your unblinking, focused eyes.
He’s seen it before, when you went to the amusement park, playing carnival games; and the times you’ve gone to the mall, walking past the toy stores.
“You okay, baby?”
“Okay…” you mumble in response.
The person who is not okay is him. Once again he’s stiffened up. The realization that you’ve probably slipped in front of him has his heart in his throat again. It’s not like the other times, this time he knows what’s going through your mind and you don’t have to push down your instincts. He’s not going to mess this up for you, he promised to himself.
Yuta doesn’t know how to not mess this up, he realizes a minute later. So he chooses to not do or say anything at all unless you ask him to. It’s a good strategy, he comes to discover.
As the credits roll, you begin to speak, Yuta takes note of its softness, the rhythm your words have different than usual. You’re still you, obviously, but he can’t help but think about how truly different the air around you has become, as if there were another person that you shared a body with and he can’t help but love just as much as he does you.
“Like Dumbo’s mama. ‘s a good mama.”
“…yeah. She sure is, baby.”
“Wish I had a mama like Dumbo’.”
“Why’s that?”
”She just so nice. She beats up all o’ Dumbo’s mean bullies and doesn’ even blame him when she goes to lelephant jail.”
“She is pretty nice,” he agrees, eyes crinkling at your attempt at the word ‘elephant’. “You know what? I want to be like Dumbo’s mama too. I wanna protect you just like she does her baby.”
“Yuta wanna be my mama?”
“Well, I’m a boy, baby.” He laughs, gazing softly at the genuine twinkle in your eyes. “…but I can be your mama. Anytime you want me to.”
“Mean it?”
“Yeah, baby. Of course I mean it.”
“Promise?”
“Promise.”
“Pinky promise?”
The moment makes him smile. This is you, the one who manages to console him even though he’s the one who had to cancel your date. The one who brings him coffee at crazy hours when not even the sun is awake. The one he introduced to his family with his chest puffed out and never regretted since.
But it’s also not.
This is a part of you that hasn’t gone through any of those things yet and does not worry about things like gas prices or separating whites from colored. At this moment, when the credits to Dumbo roll on the TV and rain begins to hit the windows of the apartment, you’re a brand new canvas. Right here, right now, it’s as if none of the bad things that you’ve gone through ever happened and he’s able to block them out from happening again for you.
Loosening your grip on the elephant plushie you hold tight to your chest, Yuta slips his hand into yours and locks your pinky fingers. To seal the oath, he brings your hand up to his lips, still connected with his.
“Pinky promise.”
“So nice to me. I love you lots.” You sigh satisfactorily, your turn to rub your nose on him like he did less than two hours ago. “But Yuta not a mama.”
His fingers settle on the top of your head, dark eyebrows raised when he looks down at you, eyes shut with tiredness.
“No?”
“No.” You mumble into his shirt. “Dun’ like it. Want ‘nother name.”
“What if I like Mama?” He whispers, trying not to wake you from this half-submersion you’re in inside Morpheus’ arms. His bottom lip pouts out, trying to replicate just how adorable you look to him, fully aware of how he could never compare.
“No.”
“Aw man. Okay, baby. We’ll figure out another name for me another time okay? Why don’t you close those pretty eyes for me right now?”
“Yuta stay?”
“Yuta’ll stay. I’ll see you tomorrow, baby.”
“T’morrow…”
“Tomorrow…”
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author's note this was difficult to execute. age regression from an outsider's point of view is not easy to describe ... still, i hope it was an enjoyable read ! constructive criticism and feedback is appreciated in all my works but especially this one (⸝⸝⸝>﹏<⸝⸝⸝)
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hannahssimblr · 1 day
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In the evening we bike to the shop to buy firelighters. Jen says she likes the idea of a bonfire while we eat our barbeque food, even though the only time one has even been lit at the beach house is when my dad did it, all the while ranting on about how he learned everything he knew about fire in the boy scouts, and how if I had an iota of discipline or self control I might have benefitted from them before the local pack expelled me for being a shithead.
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He was right. I reluctantly accept it as Jen and I approach the materials for making fire. Nobody has ever told me about the difference between briquettes and coal, what firelighters actually look like and exactly where peat plays into all of this. I know nothing about how to do manly things, and only ever figured out how to pitch a tent after subtly watching Shane do it the first time he and I went camping in the woods. 
In contrast, my father has shot an actual gun. He and his brothers hunted deer, game and wild pigs in the hills around their family farmhouse in Redding California. As they loaded up their rifles and zipped up their jackets they would say things to me about how I’d be coming with them someday, as though was some sort of honour, something to strive for, but by the time I was big enough to kill pheasants I was already five thousand miles away drawing comics on printer paper. My soft hands were meant for art.
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“You grab the firelighters,” I tell Jen, and take a swerve towards the magazine stand so that I can peruse something in my comfort zone. There’s a small selection of artsy magazines, and I flip one open. 
“Um, do you think we should buy gasoline or something?” She stands chewing on her lip. 
“Probably not, right? That seems dangerous.”
“Should we ask someone?” 
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“What? No.” Embarrassing.
I pretend to be engrossed in an article so that I don’t have to help, but while I'm there, an ad catches my eye, “Hey,” I call out to Jen, “would you want to go to an exhibition this weekend?”
“What kind?”
“Art.”
“Yeah, what kind?”
I turn the page to her so that she can see it, “contemporary,” and her eyes narrow at the images of weird sculptures made of bits of scrap metal, canvases with random splatters of paint dripping off the bottom, colour bleeding onto the floor.
“Hm. See, that’s the kind of weird art I don’t get.”
“It’s not about the art specifically, it’s about us doing something fun together.”
“And that’s in Dublin?”
“Yes.”
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She smirks in a self satisfied way, “You’re bored,” she stops a passing customer to ask him if he knows what firelighters are, and if so, what does the box look like.
He shows her, and while she’s picking up the last two packets I come to stand with her, not helping, because now I'm more interested in selling this new idea to her. “It’ll be fun! How nice would it be to have a change of scenery? Get back to the city where stuff is actually happening, maybe go to that ice cream place you like.”
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I’m certain this will sway her, but she pulls a face, “There’s loads of ice cream here, and the only reason you think nothing is happening on the beach is because you’re deliberately not doing anything.”
“Is it so bad that I want to have a day out with you?”
“No, I suppose not, but...” She wrinkles her nose “Fine. I don't want to be cynical. Do you think I’m cynical?”
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“Yeah a bit.” I pay for the firelighters. As we exit the shop into the lingering light of the evening I admit to her, “I’m trying to cheer myself up, I just think I should make the most of the time I have left.”
She laughs, “It sounds like you’re terminally ill. You’re moving. So what? I’ll still talk to you all the time.”
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“Yeah but I really want to savour these last few weeks. Will you come to the gallery?” I grip her arm and pretend to die, letting my knees buckle under me to really sell it, “...before it’s too late?”
“God, yes, fucking hell,” she groans, “I’ll come. I’ll do whatever you want for the rest of the summer, right?”
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I throw an arm around her, “Thanks Jen.”
“Yeah, manipulator.”
“Takes one to know one,” I say cheerily, and we unlock our bikes and head towards home.
Beginning // Prev // Next
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saintobio · 10 minutes
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blank canvas: the epilogue.
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pairings. ryōmen sukuna, fem!reader
genre. past lovers, angst, opposites attract
tags/warnings. mentions of toxic relationships, purple hearts-ish themes, maybe some heartache
notes. 2.4k wc. i said it’ll come in a few days, but i had free time so here it issss!
part 1 | part 2 | part 3
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Two Years Later
Tonight was Yuki and Choso’s going-away party. 
Their decision to migrate to another side of the world was because Yuki had always talked about wanting to abroad, and so when Choso was offered a once-in-a-lifetime job opportunity in another country, it became the perfect chance for them to make that dream a reality.
So despite your apprehensions, you couldn’t miss the chance to see Yuki one last time and accepted her invitation to the party.
The evening was alive with laughter and chatter as their families and friends gathered to celebrate their bittersweet departure. Among the crowd, you spotted some familiar faces who exchanged greetings with the couple, as well as some strangers you had never seen before.
But one person was conspicuously absent. 
It had been two years since you had seen Sukuna, and the thought of potentially running into him again filled you with a strange mix of anticipation and dread. However, deep down, you knew he wouldn’t be there. There was no chance of him ever showing up because you hadn’t heard from him since that fateful night. The apartment you once shared together now housed a new tenant, and the tattoo shop across the street had transformed into a record store. Neither Yuki, nor Choso (even Yuuji), had mentioned anything about Sukuna since then, possibly avoiding any mentions of him to you out of his request. He had simply disappeared, evaporated from existence, leaving behind nothing but a fading memory.
As you scanned the room with a forlorn smile, your thoughts were interrupted by Yuki’s cheerful voice. “Y/N! So glad you could make it! I thought you weren’t gonna come, too.”
Your first instinct was to hug her tightly. “Of course, not! You know I can’t not see you before you go.”
“Aww.” She embraced you tighter before pulling away with a sad smile. “I’m gonna miss you so much. You’re like a little sister to me.” 
Indeed, and she was the big sister you never had. Things would feel different without her here, but you supported her decisions and would always wish her the best in her future endeavors. So, despite the distance you two would soon have, you gave her a reassuring pat on the back. “We can still keep in touch. And maybe, I’ll pay you a visit there, too.” 
“Honestly, I would love that!” she enthused, “Please do, even if I have to harass Getou and Gojou about it.” 
You chuckled as she mentioned the duo’s name and spent the next few minutes with you chatting for a bit, catching up with your life, talking about your future plans. It was amazing how much can change in two years, and how some things can also stay the same. Like your friendship. And this bond that you would never find with anyone else.
For now, the night was still young, and you knew Yuki still had many more guests to accommodate, so you didn’t want to take all of her time. Eventually she did excuse herself to greet more guests, and you found yourself standing by the kitchen island, absentmindedly stirring your cocktail.
As you stood in the corner of the room, surrounded by the chatter and laughter of the party, you felt a sudden jolt run through your body as loud voices boomed across the room. They were Yuuji and Choso’s exuberant greetings cutting through the air, drawing everyone’s attention, including yours.
“Nii-san!”
“There he goes, Mr. First Lieutenant!” 
Your eyes widened as you saw the figure they were addressing with playful salute—a man in a crisp military uniform, standing tall and confident. It took you a moment to recognize him, but when you did, your heart skipped a beat.
It was Sukuna.
He looked different, transformed almost, his demeanor more composed, his smile softer yet still retaining the undeniable aura of masculinity. He looked a lot more muscular than the last you remembered. His hair, now dyed back to its natural color, was neatly trimmed. You recognized that the uniform he wore was of the Japan Self-Defense Forces, adorned with badges and insignias that spoke of his achievements. The reckless, wild look in his eyes had been replaced by something steadier, more focused.
It wasn’t just the sight of him that made your heart skip a beat—it was how different he looked. 
“That’s so cool!” Yuuji raved about his older brother’s badges, his starry eyes genuinely intrigued at the sight of Sukuna in a uniform. 
Choso, on the other hand, was pulling him in a hug in an emotional jest. “Dammit. You said you couldn’t make it!” 
“Don’t cry now,” Sukuna teased, patting the younger brother’s back. He seemed to be genuinely having fun teasing his brothers. “Had to pull some strings. I was on duty, but do ‘ya think I’d let you go without seeing you?” 
You felt a pang of nostalgia in their interaction, but also recognized the visible difference in the way your ex-boyfriend spoke to others. He was genuinely happy. He was all smiles. He was the healthiest version of himself, both physically and emotionally.
It was clear to you that Sukuna had turned his life around, and it was evident that he was doing well in his field of work. The man you once knew, who had been consumed by his reckless way of life, was now standing tall and respected as an honorable member of the military.
When you said you had never met Sukuna again in your lifetime, that was true. Because the Sukuna you knew was no longer here. It was an entirely different man, changed for the better, just not for you. 
As if sensing your gaze, Sukuna turned and your eyes mirrored each other’s surprise. For a moment, the world around you seemed to fade away, as if you were characters in a movie screen seeing each other for the very first time. It was as though your eyes were the camera, and he was the actor. You could say you were starstruck, your heart thumping so loud that you could hear it vibrate through your ears. 
Two freaking years, and Sukuna still had that effect on you. 
You didn’t know what to do. You found yourself at a loss, the red cup in your hand now shaking from the sudden surge of anxiety. Your mind was a whirlwind of conflicting thoughts, a kaleidoscope of heavy emotions, a tornado of nostalgic bliss, leaving you feeling adrift in a sea of memories. 
You wondered if Sukuna hated having to see you here. And if so, should you leave to spare yourself—or perhaps him—from any potential discomfort?
Caught in this internal struggle, you felt paralyzed, uncertain of what to do next. But then, you saw a flicker of recognition and regret in his eyes. 
Before you could even contemplate your next move, Sukuna was already excusing himself from his brothers. Their knowing looks exchanged in silence spoke volumes, indicating they were aware of where he was headed. The realization then hit you like a wave. Sukuna, your ex-boyfriend of two years, was coming toward you, and you were suddenly faced with a decision between confronting the past or making a quick escape.
“Y/N,” he greeted with a boyish grin, his voice deeper, more controlled. The bad boy persona he used to carry was completely gone. 
“Sukuna,” you replied, struggling to keep your voice steady, a complete opposite from his confidence.
There was a moment of awkward silence before he spoke again. “You look great.”
“Thanks,” you meekly replied, clearing your throat and gesturing to his uniform, “You, too. Military suits you. I never saw that coming.”
He smiled in agreement, seemingly happy about his current appearance. You had never seen this kind of bliss from him before, like he was filled with content and a sense of self-worth. He was proud, and truth be told, you were, too. 
“It’s been a good change. It gave me structure, purpose,” he paused, taking a red cup from the kitchen island nearby, “I finally got something ‘better’ to do with my life, huh?”
You smiled softly, not missing the implication of his last statement. “I’m happy for you. Really.”
“Thank you.”
“Of course.” 
“Mhmm.” 
The minutes that followed were some of the most agonizing of your life, not because of Sukuna, but because of the overwhelming awkwardness that enveloped the two of you. It felt as though you had nothing else to discuss, knowing full well that delving into your shared past was a territory you could never comfortably navigate. However, Sukuna, always the more vocal one in your relationship, had finally broken the silence.
“Do you…” he began, leaving you on edge, anticipating his question, “Do you wanna get some fresh air outside?” 
Right. And with a smile, you nodded. “Sure.” 
— —
You were grateful for the opportunity to escape the stifling atmosphere of the party and find some solace in the cool night air. Both of you were at the front porch, sitting over the pavement talking about anything but your past. 
Sukuna excitedly talked about his time in the military, where you learned that he had enlisted two years ago and joined the army. After enlisting, he quickly excelled in the rigorous training required for the Special Operations Group (SOG). It didn’t surprise you that his physical prowess, sharp intellect, and determination made him a standout candidate.
“I actually completed advanced courses in counter-terrorism, reconnaissance, and combat survival,” he shared, his gaze set on the clear starry night above you. “Oh, and last month, I was deployed on a high-stake mission overseas. We extracted hostages from a conflict zone. Remember the action movies we used to watch? It was exactly like that. It was fun, thrilling.” 
You listened intently, an elbow propped on your leg as you absorbed the enthusiasm in his stories. Pride and joy swelled in your heart as you heard him talk about something he was passionate about, because it was a stark contrast to the old Sukuna who wouldn’t have shown interest in these things. And this time around, you felt like you were infatuated again, but with the new him. 
“I’m really proud of you.” Longingness dripping from your voice. “Very proud. And you’re First Lieutenant, too? Wow.” 
The compliment seemingly made him blush, a sight so rare to see that you haven’t seen it throughout your relationship. “I wanted to become a better man.” 
You felt a squeeze in your heart. You recalled the words he said that night at the parking lot, of him telling you that he had his own insecurities, too. That he knew all along that your uncertainties about him were rooting from his way of life. That he was aware that he couldn’t give you the life you deserved. 
“Y/N.” Your name rolled off his tongue in an affectionate manner. He soon rose from his seat, prompting you to follow suit, before turning to face you. “I forgot to mention.”
You swallowed hard. “Yeah?”
His smile was sweet and genuine. “I’m engaged now.”
Oh.
Of course. 
What did you expect?
His words settled in your heart like a suffocating shroud. Despite the ache in your chest, you managed a polite nod, concealing the storm of emotions swirling inside you. But you couldn’t contain it—the damn tears that pooled in your eyes. Please, not now. You turned away, hoping to shield your reaction from him.
But it was all too late. 
He was already pulling you into an embrace, the familiarity in his warmth only making you weaker inside. “You are and will always be my greatest love,” he whispered into your ear, pressing his lips against your temple, “And also my biggest regret.”
Damn it. You covered your face with your hands, feeling ashamed of the tears streaming down your cheeks. What an absurd twist of fate. You could have gone about your day without encountering him again, yet here you were, shedding tears over the same man who had broken your heart two years ago.
“When I say regret,” he continued, cupping your cheeks and smiling at you lovingly. He ran his thumb across your cheeks, wiping your tears away. “I meant regret of not being that man for you. I didn’t treat you the way you deserved, or respected your boundaries like I thought I did.” Sukuna’s charm had you holding your breath still, too enamored by his beauty under the moonlight. He used to be a man of a few words, and now he didn’t shy away from pouring out his raw emotions. “I’m sorry I was two years too late. I’m sorry I had to let you go and be with someone else. But you and I know that it’s for the best.”
You weren’t crying because you wanted to get back together with him. You weren’t crying because he had promised marriage to someone else. You were crying because it felt like he was the one who slipped through your fingers, the one that got away, the one who could have been your forever if circumstances had aligned differently. It was the regret of a lost possibility, the ache of knowing that in another universe, you and him could have shared a lifetime together, untouched by the mistakes of the past.
He had dreams of making you his wife, dreams of having your children, dreams of growing old with you.
But the old Sukuna was dead, replaced by the new Sukuna who was happy and free from love’s toxicity. You realized it was time to let go. Time to bury the past and instead celebrate the future. 
“Congratulations on the engagement,” you offered your well wishes, pulling away slightly to meet his gaze with your tear-filled eyes. “I hope she doesn’t find you a handful.”
He let out a soft chuckle, shaking his head. “No, no. I have to behave or else I’m a dead man,” he joked. “She's in the army, too.”
“Well, I’m glad you met her, Sukuna. You deserve it,” you said, your voice filled with genuine warmth as you wiped your lachrymose eyes. 
Gratitude and comfort shone in his gaze. “And I’m glad you found your peace, Y/N. You always deserved better.”
You smiled in appreciation of his words as he helped you dust off your pants. Just then, your phone buzzed in your pocket, briefly taking your attention away from the current scene. “Uh, I think I need to go,” you hesitated, glancing back at the house. “But I think Yuki’s pretty busy.”
“It’s fine,” he assured. “Do you want me to call you a cab or?”
“No, it’s okay,” you replied, shooting him a grateful expression. “Satoru’s on his way to pick me up.”
He nodded, smiling. “Cool.” You were surprised when he offered his hand, a gesture to finally close whatever remained between you two. “It was nice seeing you, Y/N.”
You shook his hand and gave him a playful salute. “Likewise, First Lieutenant Ryomen Sukuna.”
As he returned to the party, immediately attacked by his friends, there was no hint of yearning or longing in him, as if the poignant exchange with his ex-girlfriend had never occurred. He was back in the scene in a fluid motion, laughing, catching up with his loved ones, telling stories about his life. No heartbreaks, no painful memories.
As you stood there, knowing you had shared respect and love for each other, you were happy that there was a sense of closure in seeing Sukuna as the man he had become. You had both grown, both changed, and in that moment, you knew that your story, though painful, had led you two to where you needed to be. 
That your love’s canvas, once blank, now held colors to complete the portrait.
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otaku553 · 5 months
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Long time no one piece spy x family crossover :D
@where-does-the-heart-lie had the excellent idea of ace in a trench coat for his assassin outfit (and their art for it is so cool I am still going insane over it) and it’s just too perfect shfhfdhdhs
More design notes in the readmore!
My hc is that luffy and sabo gave it to ace as a birthday present and sabo was the one with the idea to put flame retardant fabric on the inside since sometimes ace comes home with burns on his arms. He told ace that the jacket would prevent him from getting burnt and ace took that to mean that the entire jacket is fireproof and this is unfortunately not how it works
The additional pompom looking things on Ace’s hat for his assassin outfit are meant to look like fireball lilies! Kind of like how yor’s assassin headband has roses on them I wanted a visual indicator of his codename in his outfit. I think fireball lilies may more often be called blood lilies but I think that’s still rather suitably ominous for the assassin profession :)
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puppyeared · 11 months
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XIN YA MOMENT
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kaijukebox · 1 year
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This counts as a hug— no I won’t elaborate…
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Today’s Reference
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quinn-pop · 2 months
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yet another oc that only exists because i wanted to write something very specific
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(middle is a little older, hence her scar healing. i like to think she gets a glass eye at some point)
anyway this is mira! (they/she) since that wip is almost 20k words and counting i won’t give away too much but long story short she’s the result of meta going “one last time, i promise” and adopting yet another kid
also galaxia kinda indirectly picked the name :)
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i’ve mentioned before that i headcanon that pretty much all astrals are autistic and this is just kinda an extension of that. whereas meta tends to suppress his emotions and conform to others, mira…doesn’t. she gets uncomfortable and upset and lashes out at people easily, and working through their emotions is no small task.
the main reason i chose to write them that way was for the sake of narrative but i’ve grown attached to it because there’s a lot of ideas there i’d like to explore. stuff about navigating emotions and relationships when existing is so suffocatingly uncomfortable. it’s not something i could center around Kirby himself, but i think it makes sense with a post character development meta knight.
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they are very loved (omg oldee cameo???)
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kirby was definitely very excited to have younger siblings after being used to being the youngest in the room for so long!! (with the like. one and only exception being gooey.) he’s super affectionate with both of them and wants to have a close relationship one day, but for now mira is pretty unappreciative of that fact lol. they don’t like being pestered for hugs
everyone else is okay tho
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(i know that’s hard to read. oops. “obvious bite marks”. siblings being siblings.)
mira also has a very love/hate relationship with the egg kid, being so close in age they kinda Have to get along but in typical sibling nature they also fight a lot. sure it’s probably rough for a while but i think in the end they’d be good buddies. maybe not as close as Kirby and Bandee but still.
anyway i have a lot of thoughts and am very busy but. i’m really enjoying writing about all this lately it’s been fun ^^
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cuteniaarts · 2 months
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Behold, my latest and most enamouring new obsession:
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Malina, Lady of the Chief of the Northern Water Tribe. As if Red Lotus child OCs weren’t niche enough
#my art#artists on tumblr#the legend of korra#lok malina#still feel like that’s too vague of a tag but I can’t come up with anything better for now#and yeah. she has completely stolen by heart and I don’t know how to feel about that#don’t think I ever was this attracted to my own art before#to be fair the design isn’t mine. it’s very heavily based on something nina drew back in 2021#because I did not have the energy or creativity to come up with my own thing#but the art is all mine and I genuinely adore it. super proud of myself which is a rare occurrence#anyways. kat and I spent three days digging this niche lower and lower and now have a he#*hell of a lot of lore about this basically nonexistent character#for lore about a lady from the North Pole a lot of it is rather hot… to the point my cheeks are burning non stop#I would say I’d let her do anything she wants to me but in my very specific aroace-adjacent case it’s more like#I’d let her tell me to do anything she wants to her#if that makes any sense and I have not completely lost my goddamn mind yet#okay. enough yapping. back to the art itself#lazy background because I suck at those and am not currently attempting to learn them. I’ll probably do that over the summer#about time anyway. my characters have been placed against an off-white background for far. far too long#this is the first piece in just over a year that isn’t tagged with sotrl. which is kinda weird tbh#I’ve been drawing my OCs almost exclusively for nearly 5 years so it is genuinely surprise I’m branching out#*surprising#less branching out and more diving from one hole into another but y’know#anyway. in my personal and very correct opinion she turned out absolutely gorgeous#her servants are way too lucky and unalaq is way too much of an idiot. no offence to vaatu but he could never beat out this#and I also have Kat’s personal and very correct opinion to back up my own. two against the void. once again we’re winning#I wanna draw her a lot more bc she has completely possessed my brain. I just wish character interactions were easier to draw 😭#I’ll figure it out. just need to fight my visualisation issues for a proper idea. brb#okay I’m almost at the tag limit so. in summary:#she 🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵
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breadhalfburnt · 1 year
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i have been rotating these guys around in my brain for days and i haven’t been able to access my drawing tablet in weeks. i am going insane. so enjoy some doodles!
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coconut530 · 1 year
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Happy Birthday to the time you died, my dude
old version from 2021 under cut so you can see the ✨improvement✨
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dahldahlbills · 7 months
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nano day 13
total word count: 1197
almost done with scene 8! It went a lot better than I expected so I’m content with the progress even if I didn’t get to write as much as I would’ve liked. Though that limited writing is more due to not having time than struggling with words lol if it’s not one it’s the other unfortunately .—.
but hopefully I carry this energy into tomorrow’s writing session :D
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inkdrinkerworld · 2 months
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post!prison Spencer realizing you’re not always sunshiny and happy when one day he spots you crying in the hall before wiping your eyes and walking into the bullpen with your usual megawatt smile like you hadn’t been balling your eyes out five minutes before
It’s a call with your brother that really gets you started.
Spencer watches you take the phone call that starts off pleasant, you’re all smiles and then you frown, dark and full of an anger Spencer hasn’t ever seen on you.
He knows humans are capable of all emotional spectrums but it’s so foreign on your face and in your body language that he’s shocked a little still.
You walk to a secluded part of the office, hushed, rushed, heated words that Spencer feels horrible for straining his ear to listen to but it’s a strange sight.
He’s never seen you like this.
“How is that my fault? I can’t drop everything and take a plane over there every time shit hits the fan. They’re big kids now.”
What’s worse is your voice cracks and he wants desperately to rush to you, comfort you but he forces himself to stay where he is.
He strains his ear and hears you whisper,
“I’m not doing this again. I can’t be that person anymore. They’re 20, I can’t move back home just to baby them again. I’m not going to be walked all over by them anymore.”
You’re not together, you’re just friends- not super close but closer than anyone else on the team. Spencer feels like he should be comforting you when he moves to the kitchen and watches the first tear tumble down your cheek.
“Hey have you seen, Y/N?” Emily asks and Spencer turns his body to block you from view.
“She went to the bathroom, do we have a case?” He asks, stirring a pound of sugar into his coffee.
“Yeah, when she comes out tell her meet us at the jet.” She hands off a file to him and Spencer glances through the pages quickly.
Spencer watches you compose yourself, swiping at your face, fixing your hair and rolling your shoulders back.
Then he watches almost sadly, as you plaster a smile back on your face.
“Hey, Spence. Where’s everybody?” You open the fridge like you usually do and reach for the canister of whipped cream you keep tucked away.
“We have a case,” Spencer watches you shake it and spray some into your palm, connecting the dots over the many times he’s seen you do that in the last couple of months.
You’d always said it was just a, ‘pick me up’ and Spencer hadn’t thought twice about. You all have little things you do to keep you going in the job, but he realises now it’s less to do with work and more to do with your upset.
“Oh shit,” you spray another heap of cream in your palm. “I’ll get my go bag, can you fill me in while we walk, Spence?” You’re already turning to your desk, fiddling about the last draw for your go bag.
Your eyes are still a little red, and he watches you switch your contacts for glasses as soon as you get hold of the bag. “They burn a little right now,” you supply when you catch him looking and he nods like he doesn’t know the truth.
“Alright, let’s go,” he opens the case file Emily handed to him and starts, “So the unsub seems to be a woman hater? I’m not sure how no one figured him out before this is his sixth victim.”
You frown as you tuck your go-bag over your shoulder, “And the geography is all the same? No crossing state lines?”
Spencer admires how easily you slip back into work mode, but as soon as the case is over he needs to find a way to have you talk to him.
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peachpitfics · 17 days
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Cruel Summer
Fandom: Bridgerton
Summary: Following your romp with Benedict Bridgerton in his art studio, he asked your brother for your hand! Now you're on your honeymoon, and you're getting a little bored, posing for him. A lady must find ways to amuse herself!
Length: 2.1k
Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x fem!reader
Content Warnings: Oral sex (male receiving), Penetrative vaginal sex, unprotected sex, light bondage, food play.
a/n: This is an anonymous request for a continuation of 'Guilty as Sin'.
Bridgerton master list (tag list)
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Benedict Bridgerton escorting you to view his artwork, at his private studio, was just the beginning of your story. After sneaking around behind your family’s backs for a small while, Benedict gathered enough courage to ask your eldest brother’s permission for your hand. This seemed strange to the y/l/n family, not one of them had ever seen the two of you together, which showed how much attention was paid to the middle child. Benedict made sure to ask you in the Bridgerton drawing room, just before family tea, for everyone to see. He made such a big to-do, confessing his love to you, before every member of the Bridgerton family in attendance. It felt particularly safe there, amongst people who took interest in who you were as a person.
It was bittersweet to have siblings who offered their time, their attentions, and their hobbies freely. You learned so many new things from each of them, from pall-mall, to sewing, even horse riding.  In six months, you were married and moved into the Bridgerton house for the meantime, until after your honeymoon. You would never outright tell Benedict you did not want to move out, but he felt it, he knew.
“My love” Benedict whispered, shaking your shoulders gently. Honeymooning in Paris was something the two of you had instantly agreed upon. So far, two weeks of sleeping late, making love, and eating copious amounts of divine food was your only concern. Of course, there were a lot of other lovely things Benedict had planned for your honeymoon – river boat rides and romantic dinners, every moment between locations filled with fine bread, wine, and cheese.
“Yes, my love?” You grumbled, rolling away from him, clearly having not had enough sleep.
“You must wake up, it is midafternoon!” Benedict exclaimed with a chesty laugh, rolling you back into him and tickling your sides. You howled with laughter, pushing him away playfully, leaning up to distract him as only you knew how. His lips were warm and wet against your own, seductive, and luscious.
“You must come downstairs! The housekeeper has left us a feast and I wish to paint my gorgeous wife” Benedict slid his hands around your naked body, lifting you out of bed as you groaned.
“Again?!” “My darling, I’ll be painting you until death takes me” Benedict chuffed, sliding sideways between doorways and down the stairs to the sitting room.
“What if death takes me first?” You smirked back, figuring you had him cornered here.
“I have made God promise I am to go first. And even so, I’ll have every detail committed to memory and these paintings and sketches of you now to keep me company” Benedict squeezed you in his arms, he didn’t like to joke about parting ways, in any sense. It was his truest nightmare, his deepest fear.
Benedict set you down in the sitting room and gestured to what he and the house keeping staff had readied. Paint, canvas, a staging area - littered around the room were bowls of fresh fruit, bottles of wine, candles surrounded by plates of cheese, oil, and bread. You relaxed back against his chest, his arms wrapping around you, cupping your breasts sweetly. You giggle a little, planting a soft kiss on his cheek. He nodded to your position for the rest of the day, a chair with the back faced to a very high window, casting a streak of sunlight down upon the spot.
There you sat, for hardly an hour before your mind began to wander, circling Benedict in your mind like a shark in open water. You had learned to become comfortable being nude for long periods of time these days, however Benedict had learned nothing of your persuasion or power when your attentions were dashed. Your movements started slowly, daintily taking your hands to your knees, and spreading your legs wide upon the chair. Resting a little, relaxing your back and cupping your own breasts. Your fingers gently grazing your nipples. But nothing, no attention from your husband. He sat close to his canvas, squinting into the detail of his work, his realm of perception clearly inhibited. With a huff and a light moan, you continued to palm at your own breasts, fingers trapping your nipples in a pulling motion- you decided to pretend Benedict wasn’t here. Suddenly, taking notice, you watched as his brush left the canvas, his mouth hung open a little and he removed his glasses, almost tossing them to the floor.
“What are you doing, darling?” He mumbled, swallowing hard. Your hands ran down your mid-section, over your belly and down your thighs sensually, soft mewls slipped from between your lips. Benedict loved the sounds you made.
“I’m just amusing myself, continue on with your painting my dear” Your replying comment was nonchalant in the best way. Benedict almost looked offended that you would suggest he could go back to painting.
“How do you suppose I paint, while my wife ravages her own body before me?” He blinked at the audacity of you.
“Well, dear one, this is what you have chosen for this afternoon’s activities… Now, you must endure” You smiled, sliding your hand between your legs, dipping your finger in the wet warmth there. Benedict shuddered, wishing any part of him were exchanged with your finger.
If there was anything you had learned about Benedict in the last six or seven months, it was that his desire for you was consistent and all encompassing. Benedict watched on as your fingers circled your clitoris, you moaned and exhaled gently - his paint brush never did return to the canvas. Beads of sweat formed on his brow line, the hot, French summer finally taking its toll in the late afternoon. You reached to the small stool next to you, extracting the tiniest jar of honey. You looked into Benedict’s eyes, holding the jar above your body, dangling your head back and pouring a steady stream of honey over your chest. The sun glistened, reflecting little pools of light off your sticky, sweet skin.
Taking your finger, you swept up your belly from your navel, placing your finger on your tongue in clear view of him, and that was his very last straw. Benedict threw his paintbrush to the ground, thrusting himself up and out of his chair, to march across the room to you.
“What do you think you are doing, wife?” Benedict’s voice rasped, his eyes were so dark, the colour had all but gone.
“Playing, my love” You replied cheekily, sucking another nip of honey off your finger. He all but growled watching your finger slip between your lips, his breath quickening in sheer lust for you.
“Are you punishing me for getting you out of bed?” Benedict’s face was so close now, his nose tip to tip with yours. There was such tension in his jaw, his teeth clenched hard in his fierce need of you. You fluttered your lashes back at him, refusing to answer with your words.
“Do you have even a semblance of an understanding of what you are doing to me? This is unbelievably cruel,” He breathed heavily down on you, desperation flooding his body and adrenaline surging behind, “You can’t begin to imagine the things I want to do to you right now” His stubble gliding across your ear and cheek, making you shudder.
“Show me then,” You challenged, “You are my husband after all”.
Benedict’s hands slowly moved to his shirt, shedding it, and throwing it somewhere behind him. He acted with a sureness and a strength you hadn’t yet experienced, but it was drawing you in. Undoing his pants, Benedict took his hard member into his hands, stroking himself against your chest, lathering it in honey. His other hand wove into your hair, tangling the perfect hold, bringing you forward.
“Oh. Goodness. Seems I’ve made quite a mess of myself… Wife, help me clean it up” He smiled smugly down at you.
 Something feral, untamed, was unleashed inside you, your eyes darkening, “Certainly, my lord”. As your tongue reached out to meet his tip, his head lulled back in pleasure, his hand still wrapped around the base of him. Your lips parted slowly, encasing his first inch, and swirling your tongue around to suck the honey from him. Benedict exhaled headily, his breaths deep, but quick with the slightest grunt mixed in. The way he sounded, even now, made you wetter and wetter.
There was something maliciously keen in Benedict’s eyes as he watched from on high, your pretty mouth sucking all the honey off him and then some. His body gently rocked forward, his hand heaving your head forward, onto him in a more perverse manner. His head hung back in greedy caution, grasping to the very last straws of his gentlemanly nature as you sunk to the base of him, your tongue wriggling slyly underneath.
His fingers grew taut in your hair, reefing you backwards. His laugh was low, both impressed and challenged by your ministrations. In the next moment, Benedict had hauled you up and over his shoulder, he was charging up the stairs, mad with temerity.
Entering the bedroom, he threw you down on the bed, scrambling for any piece of material in reach, he began ripping. Four pieces of silk fabrics in his hands, he loomed over you in profound ownership. Your teeth sunk into your bottom lip, Benedict taking each wrist and ankle, tying them to each to their respective corner post of the bed.
“There” He stood, hands on his hips, proud of his work, “There’ll be no more of that”. Clearly touching yourself had had a dire effect on Benedict’s work ethic.
Kneeling between your thighs, his naked body unjustly out of reach, Benedict’s supercilious smile sick with goofy dominance. He thumbs over your folds, his finger descending, extorting whines of pleasure you never knew existed within you. Broad strokes of the most painful, unapologetically evil gratification. Benedict’s tongue flicked over his lips hungrily.
“I need you” The words escaped you violently, the thrill of his touch, his charming smile becoming all too much for you. He ignored you and continued another moment or two, reducing you to a begging mess beneath him.
“Shall I oblige you, my marvellous bride?” His grin was jubilant and all knowing, his hands came down on your wrists, pressing them into the bed. Benedict’s brutal, familiar kiss sown into your lips permanently, as he pushed inside of you with surprise.
“Y/n” He groaned, growled with unrepentant lust. Your eyes cast wide, the length of him stretching you mercilessly while he thrust in and out. His villainous face claiming your entire consciousness as he used your body to his pleasure, decadent facial expressions, and damnable sounds he was delivering straight to your right ear.
“You feel unimaginably perfect” Benedict groaned, your moans joining in alongside his.
Hands grasping for silk to hold onto, you longed for your own release, grinding your hips back against Benedict’s. His movements became more ferocious, keeping up with the sounds you were making. Frenetic energy began to move through your body, your ravenous thirst for him finally quenched. Every muscle in your body engaged in vivid contortion, Benedict pressing into you as deeply as he possibly could before his own body found its own powerful release.
Covered in sweat and honey, you laid tangled together for a moment before Benedict recalled your wrists and ankles were tied. He chuckled with giddiness, sitting up to admire his knots.
“You look fantastic like this, perhaps we should do this more often” He suggested sweetly. His thumb caressed the side of your face, your panting, tired body unable to give a response. Benedict littered your face and neck with loving pecks.
“We could be one person and I still would never be close enough to you. No amount of time with you will ever satisfy me. You are the centre of my world” Benedict whispered gently. Every day you were reminded of the intoxicants his poetic mind dabbled into every sweet thing he said to you.
In another instant, Benedict had sprung from the bed, running downstairs. You laughed, thinking he must be returning with some of the food the housekeeper had left strewn about his romantically planned afternoon. Instead, Benedict returned with a new canvas and his implements. Your mouth fell open all on its own, blinking furiously in his direction as he set himself up off the side of the bed.
“If you could just stay there, like that, that’d be great!” Benedict’s grin, excruciatingly exquisite, and concocting. He held himself with such pride in his agendum, cockiness seemed to fill the room in a potent manner.
“BENEDICT!?” You squealed, tugging frantically on his bindings, your laughter filled with rich resolve.
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tagging: @cringycat24 // @blckbarbiedoll // @freyagallileaevans // @junkie05 // @rosabeetroot // @flamewriterr //
If you'd like to be added to this tag list, please let me know!
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pizzaapeteer · 3 months
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𝘽𝙧𝙤𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙧'𝙨 𝘽𝙚𝙨𝙩 𝙁𝙧𝙞𝙚𝙣𝙙
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Hello, it's been a while, but I finally got a burst of inspiration in light of @thatdammchickennugget's hogmarch challenge. I used the prompt 'or is it because you're not in love with me?' almost 3k. Mattheo x female reader, fluff, with a hint of lewd thoughts He knew you were off limits, a line he wasn't supposed to cross. She was A forbidden desire, and maybe that’s what made him want her so badly. Despite these feelings, ones that he couldn’t seem to suppress, Mattheo knew it would never end well if his best friend Theo found out he’d developed a crush on his bloody sister. He’d sure have him thrown off the astronomy tower before he could even so much as utter a word of apology.  But how could he not, when she was always around, always taking up room in his head. Although she was a year younger than Mattheo and the others, she shared a close bond with her brother. Meaning she spent a majority of her time cooped up in Theo’s shared dorm. She fitted in so well, always making the group laugh, leaving Mattheo often with sore cheeks after spending time with her. It’s not like Mattheo would ever act on these emotions, doubting she even thought about him past another brother-like figure. He cared for his relationship with Theo too much to do anything stupid. Though the temptations were there, whenever she would ask him a question, the sound of her voice like honey setting the butterflies in his stomach on a rampage to where he felt sick. Her smile was so captivating, drawing his attention towards her even on the gloomiest days. 
Even away from her, his mind was constantly consumed by thoughts of her. He’d sit at home, running his hands through his hair. It was fucking him up. Doing his best to keep his feelings to himself, always aware of Theo’s eyes on him supervising. His threat constantly on repetition in his head, “If you ever even look at her past platonic, I’ll feed you to a horntail dragon”. His words drive him to act nonchalant around her, treating her like one of the boys. Like a friend who he had absolutely no interest in. Little did Mattheo know, Theo had repeated the near-to-the same speech to her. Theo knew what his friends were like, and while he appreciated the close relationship his sister shared with them, he didn’t want to see her get hurt. His protectiveness for her blinded his view on the way Mattheo seemed to truly care for her. She, on the other hand, had assured her brother that he needed not to worry. Though she didn’t admit it to Theo, she was convinced Mattheo only saw her as his best friend's sister. His demeanor had always been apathetic, showing no other interest in her other than a friend. She was good at hiding her true feelings, but her heart felt contused, hating how he’d deftly crawled his way in. He’d probably done it to countless girls before her, and that fact stung her deeply. That was the hardest part about being around him, knowing she couldn't have him and he'd never want her. 
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It was currently Friday evening. The classic group of your brother's friends had been lounging in his dorm before you had challenged everyone, to who could create the best muggle fort. The room filled with tipsy laughter, everyone having passed around the firewhiskey Enzo and Blaise had sneaked in. The group was divided into two, with you being partnered with Blaise and Theo. You had thought the three of you were doing well despite your disadvantage of one man down, Mattheo's absence due to another detention. But your optimism was dropping as you watched for the third time as the fort collapsed, with Blaise accusing Theo again of being a useless twat for misplacing the pegs. Across from you, you eyed the way the others had worked, laughing as Daphne and Pansy practically ordered Draco and Enzo into working together well. Though you could see the firewhiskey in the boys' systems wasn’t helping, as they had started arguing about the best way to create the fort. You rolled your eyes, giggling at the stupidity of how the night had unfolded. Taking another drink from the bottle, you clapped your hands and explained your game plan to your team, eludicating to them. “Right, you two idiots, I’m going to connect the fort together from the inside, while you two hold it together from the outside. Make sure you pass me a peg when I yell.” You eyed your brother, laughing slightly as he held his hands up defensively. Mattheo made his way down the Slytherin dorm corridors, hearing the sounds of his friends vibrate off the walls. He shoved open the door, readily expecting the ruckus he was about to be greeted with a grin cracking. “Wassup fuck-”, his mouth dropped, brows raising as he takes in the current commotion happening in the crowded room. His eyes are first drawn to the loud bickering occurring between Theo and Blaise. “How long have you been putting pegs on me!? That’s bloody why we can’t find any more!” Blaise complains, reaching around his back to take them off his shirt. Theo struggles to steady himself against the wall as he hurls over, cracking up, gripping his stomach, deep laughter exploding from him. Mattheo’s brows remained raised, watching in amusement as Blaise struggled, spinning around himself like a dog to pry off the pegs.
Mattheo’s gaze shifts as he steps further into the room, dropping his bag on the floor, the sounds of Draco complaining in the mirror. His hands moving in an aggressive action, attempting to smooth out the wrinkles he created during the fort building. Daphne sits beside him, filming his displeasure with her own enjoyment. Mattheo rolls his eyes at his cousin, losing his tie, as his attention is swept once again. This time by Pansy and Enzo, who seem to have moved on after the success of their fort by now throwing lollies into one another’s mouth. He spins around again, his curiosity peaks as he wonders where the last member of the group is. His heart drops at the thought of you being absent from the night, the expectation of seeing you having pushed him through his boredom in detention. His curiosity is cured when the faint sound of your voice is heard calling out from inside your fort. “Would you two stop bickering and cooperate! I need another peg. I'm literally holding this thing together from the inside!” 
Mattheo chuckles deeply, being the only one to hear you over all the commotion. He takes a peg off Blaise’s back, bending down to pop his head into the fort. He grins at the awkward position you seemed to have put yourself in, finding it amusing and also stupid that you left the two most difficult sheets to be pegged together last. His eyes drift down your figure, taking in the cute loungewear set you had on as you puffed a piece of hair out of your face, sighing irritably. He knows he should just hand you the peg, but his impulsive thoughts and the fact that you two were actually alone for once made him act. As he leans over your shoulder, reaching forward to peg the two sheets together, making the fort stabilize. Your body shivers slightly as his body retracts back, his curls brushing against your cheek, causing your body to warm up. You let go of the sheets, turning now to face him, unaware of how close he still is to you. You hadn’t even heard him come in, leaving you unprepared for his now close presence. He shifts back, allowing reasonable space between you two, and you let out a small sigh out, brushing it off as just an act of kindness, nothing more than platonic. You smile casually, “Oh, glad you could finally join us. What was the detention for this time, Riddle?” You tilt your head slightly, teasing him. His mouth pulls in a half smile before he rolls his eyes at your taunt, “This one wasn’t actually my fault, the guy was just asking for it. Fucking first years.” He scrunches his face in fake annoyance, watching you laugh at his grumble. His eyes meet yours for a moment, taking in the way your face is lit up before he shifts his attention to the fort. He was quite surprised with the fact it was actually staying up considering how intoxicated the others actually seemed. “Let me guess, this was your idea Ace.” You let out a light laugh, averting your eyes to the interior of the fort. Praying your cheeks were keeping their composure, feeling the rush of heat hit them at the nickname. You’d always had a soft spot for the nickname, though you doubted it was only being used in a friendly manner. Nodding your head to his question, your eyes still gazing at the roof of the fort, feeling something was missing. “Yeah, I thought it would be a fun competition. Not too late for you to help out though. I still wanna hang some fairy lights so we can see. Can you grab them for me?” Mattheo nodded, lazily leaning only his upper body out the fort entrance, posing himself in a way that gave you a good view of his ass. Unsure if he had done it on purpose or not, you tried not to stare too long, but the way it curved nicely in his pants was making your mind run wild. As Mattheo stuck his head out the entrance, spotting the others in a discussion, catching the end of their conversation about sneaking into the kitchens. “Oi, grab me a pack of MnMs,” he calls out to them, as they head out the dorm door. He spots the fairy lights reaching out his outstretched hand, grabbing them before retracting back into the fort. He twisted around, noticing the way your eyes darted around before meeting his gaze. His chest thumps at the realization that the two of you are alone, chuckling to himself that your brother must be too far gone to have noticed. He passes the tangled lights to you with a sly grin. “What did you do with these last? Tie someone up with them?” You roll your eyes at his joke, your cheeks definitely blushing now. You move closer to grab a fistful of lights, slowly untangling them, “Ha ha”. Not bothering to actually reply more than that, the two of you work in a somewhat comfortable silence despite your heart practically pumping out of your chest. His hands work skillfully, untangling the knots down the string. He was clearly good with his fingers. You bit your lip as your mind started wandering off as lewd thoughts swarmed through it. Merlin, what would your brother think, if he knew the ideas Mattheo was unawarely filling yours with.
You spun around feeling your body relax now that you were no longer in his direct eyesight, as you squatted to peg the lights up around the fort. The sound of your friends returning allowed a breath to be exhaled, one you didn’t know you were holding. The temptation of just being alone with Mattheo was proving to be difficult. You grinned, beaming at the finished success of the fort, the lights twinkled giving off a cozy and relaxed ambiance. Mattheo’s felt himself crack a grin at the appearance of your happiness. He’d never get over the way it made him feel as if sunshine was being shone brightly inside him. He patted your thigh gently, “Looks good Ace.” Before you can react to his touch, the others burst through, chucking pillows and blankets in a multitude of places as they all arrange themselves. You move out of the way watching as Pansy sets up a projector for you all to watch a film.
As the movie started, you rotated quickly to find a spot, coincidently noticing only one left beside Mattheo. He had made sure not to make you uncomfortable, leaving enough space between you both, as you squeezed in beside him, laying on your stomach. Laying side by side, your shoulder grazing him as you fiddled with the sleeve of your shirt. Throughout the movie, you couldn’t stop fiddling, slipping your thumb in and out of the makeshift hole you had made. Mattheo lay his hands out in front of him, his eyes drawn to the movement of your fingers fidgeting. He played with his own thumbs trying to focus on the screen, the urge to reach out and embrace your own hand in his. Though with you distracted, he inched closer to you as stealthily as possible, as to not scare you away or draw any attention to himself. His eyes moved to check out for Theo, who was deeply engrossed in the movie, probably having taken an edible. His eyes moving back up to yours, as you offered him some Mnms, graciously accepting. 
Moving to put the chocolates back in the middle, you used the moment to peer at him, noticing him distracted by the movie. You were trying to act as normal as possible, feeling the way his heat flowed onto yours from the closeness of your bodies. The illumination of the lights were cast upon him, allowing you to make out his appearance under the soft glow of the fort. Taking in the pretty colour of his mahogany eyes and the sweet shape of his rosy lips as he licked the chocolate off them. You couldn’t help but imagine what they’d be like to kiss. You had thought you were doing a good job of being discreet when Mattheo leans into you to whisper, “You're staring Ace.” His voice was quiet enough as to not capture the attention of the others. You froze momentarily, your heart beating, not realising how close he was to your face. Before you whispered back, “You’ve got chocolate on your face.” You swallow the lump forming in your throat as you pray, your response was quick and clever enough to cover up that fact that you had been caught. You kept your eyes glued to his, trying to give off the appeal that you were being serious.
His face spreads into a cheeky grin, whispering back. “Sure it’s not because you’re in love with me.” He had said it as a joke but realised as he watched your eyes widen that his whispering may have made it come across differently. His own brows scrunched in realisation as he makes out through the dim lights, a faint tint of redness creeping up your cheeks. You averted your eyes back to the TV, your heart hammering as you repeated his words over in your head. You were panicking, your eyes darting over to your brother. If anyone else heard and saw your reaction, you totally would have given away your feelings for him. You chewed on your lip before you cursed at yourself, for now realizing by not replying you were making the situation look worse. You look back at him, the small amount of firewhiskey flowing through you. “That’s very cocky of you to assume, Riddle”. Your initial reaction to his comment gave him the confidence to nudge your shoulder slightly. “Am I wrong though?” he challenged, keeping his voice low. Though he didn’t get to hear your response as Pansy shushed the two of you, making you both look away from one another. You could hardly concentrate on the rest of the movie after the latest turn of events. Your brain was working on overdrive to calm your anxiety. Of course he’d be the one to make your brain melt, turning you back into your fourteen old-self reminding you of when you first met him. He must think you’re insane. He’s probably laughing it up that Theo’s sister is in love with him. You felt trapped, wanting to escape, feeling like a joke. Caught up in your own panicked nightmare, the soft feeling of fingers pulls your attention, brushing against your hand.
Mattheo had rolled his eyes at Pansy, shushing them, watching the way you averted your eyes from him. His mind was buzzing at the possibility of you actually being into him. He pinched himself, harder than he expected flicking his hand in pain before resting it beside yours. In the fort's darkness, he took the impulsive decision to rest his fingertips against yours. He made the action gentle, not wanting you to react badly. His pinky brushed against yours, and his heartbeat quickened when he felt the sudden movement of your reciprocation. He glanced up at the others, noticing no one paying any mind to the two of you, moving his gaze back to you. A small smile rested on your lips, though your eyes were glued to the movie. He couldn’t help but risk taking it further and slid his fingers into yours, rubbing his thumb over the back of your hand. 
Mattheo’s mind filled with only thoughts of you as he blankly stared at the projector. Your hand in his felt like the most natural thing, and he couldn’t believe the way he was feeling. How could such a small action reduce him to feeling like a giddy schoolboy. He couldn’t remember the last time he held someone's hand. As the movie progressed, the two of you didn’t break contact, fingers staying intertwined. You finally turned to look at him, your eyes studying his sweet brown eyes. It was a quiet moment, but there was an unspoken understanding between them. They knew they were crossing a line, treading into dangerous territories if Theo ever found out. But the emotions shining in Mattheo’s eyes, a sly smirk playing on his lips, inflamed a desire that you knew was too good to ignore.
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just-jordie-things · 4 months
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✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ 10k follower event special! ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧
word count: 9.3k warnings: shibuya mentions, toge says some words bc i'm not god ok, drinking summary: you've always had all the time in the world to figure out what you were to each other. falling in love is meant to be slow and sweet, after all. more info: friends to lovers, fluff without plot really (yeah i'm making that a thing)
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[ what you don’t tell no one, you can tell me // little ghost, tall, tan like milk and honey // you’re very brave, and very free ]
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Inumaki Toge was very close with all of his friends.  He cherished them in ways he could only dream of vocalizing.  Instead, with his cursed speech, he was limited to smaller forms of appreciation to show them how he cared.  Remembering Yuuta’s favorite drink, punching Maki on the shoulder to tell her she did a great job, passing notes with Panda to pull off a silly prank- his love language was an odd one for sure, but it never went unnoticed.  His friends cared for him just as much.
(y/n) was different, though.
It was no secret to the others- if it had been, it would’ve been a terribly kept one- even without the ability to voice it, it would have been useless to try.  There was no denying the way that he treated her, the way he looked at her, it was unlike all the others.  If she was speaking, his attention was on her, even in a crowded room, even if someone was talking over her, Toge listened to every word, actively engaged in whatever the topic was.
He always sat next to her, always picked her as a training partner, always reached out to her first when making a plan, she lived on the front of his mind rent free, and Toge was more than content to let her.
“Funny, or sad?” She asks him now, drawing him out of his dreamy thoughts and bringing him back to reality.  She’s perched at the end of his bed, two dvd cases in either hand presented to him.  His gaze shifts between the two as he mulls it over.
If he chooses funny, then he’ll get to hear her giggles for the next two hours, followed by her pretty voice repeating all her favorite lines to send her into fits of laughter again.  He likes that option.
But the other movie in her hand is a favorite of hers.  He wouldn’t describe it as sad as she had, but the uplifting message did tug at the heartstrings, and he’s caught her crying over it multiple times in the few years he’s known her.  So he gestures to that one, reveling in the way she lights up before she’s getting off the bed in order to get his dvd player setup.  
It was actually her dvd player, Toge was more of a Netflix guy, but with her collection of movies and the frequency at which she hauled it all over to his room, they’d silently decided to just leave it in his room.  Sure, it might have been easier for them to have movie nights in her room where she didn’t have to unplug the Xbox every time to watch a movie, but Toge would never suggest such a thing, and she’s never brought it up either.  He likes having some of her things in his room.  
For a little while, it could help him feel like they were living a more domestic, normalized life.  Sometimes, he would set up her movies from that week on his shelf in alphabetical order, or fold up the blanket she’d left behind, and he could pretend that things were… different.
“I’ll have to add a box of tissues to the pile” She says, eyeing the plastic bag of snacks that the two of them had just gone out for.  
It was routine at this point, rush out to the convenience store, buy more snacks than they agreed on, and then rush back to campus to get the movie started before it was too late.  These were his favorite days.
With her back turned as she got the dvd player plugged in, Toge clicked his tongue to get her attention.  She glances back at him right away, her curious look blooming into a full, beautiful smile as he raises a little plastic package of tissues, wiggling it in the air happily.
“You’re perfect!” She laughs to herself before going back to the console, placing the disk inside with an eager little dance.  
Toge thinks it’s adorable that she’s so excited to watch a movie that will make her cry.  He could be biased though- he thinks everything she does is adorable.
Once the movie starts, she’s quick to jump back onto the bed, crawling up into the space beside him, snatching up the back of treats on the way.  Toge watches her, it’s only the opening credits playing anyways, it’s not like he was missing anything yet.  (y/n) catches his eye, raising a brow as she tilts the bag towards him.
There’s not exactly a way for him to tell her that his staring was just because he liked when she didn’t tuck her hair back and it fell in that messy way it did, not because he was waiting for his turn with the snack bag.  So he gives her a lopsided smile and takes the offering.
“If you open the chips I want some” (y/n) hums, her eyes already back on the screen as the movie begins.  Toge chuckles, pulling out the green bag of sour cream and onion flavored chips, even though he’d been eyeing the package of chocolate chip cookies.
(y/n) turns to him again, this time with a mock pout on her lips.
“Are you laughing at me?”
It makes him laugh a little more, even as he’s shaking his head to convince her otherwise.  He opens the bag of chips and tilts it towards her as a peace offering.  She gladly accepts it, her frown melting back into her syrupy smile as she snatches a few chips and settles in again to watch the movie.
As expected, she’s tearing up before anything’s really happened yet.  Toge knows she’s already thinking about the real tear-jerking moments later on.  Her emotions sometimes overwhelmed her- not just when watching heartwarming movies, but with handling the everyday things that came with the life of a jujutsu sorcerer.  It was hard when one of her closest friends was sent away on long assignments overseas, it was hard when there were casualties on assignments, it was hard training every day and trying to be better, all the while doubting herself and her abilities.
There were some times that she’d come by and they wouldn’t lounge around watching movies.  Sometimes she’d visit him just to sit quietly and take in the comfort of his presence.  Toge never minded these days.  He was just relieved that there was some way he could help her feel better- although he didn’t always understand what it was that worked.  It’s not like he could talk her down from the bad feelings, all he really did was sit there, maybe hold her hand if she needed, often listening to whatever was on her mind.
“He’s the one that makes me think of you” (y/n) points to the screen when a new character pops up.  A teenager, with shaggy, jet black hair, and a perpetual frown on his face as he’s on screen.
Toge mirrors the frown, turning to (y/n) with furrowed brows as he awaited a proper explanation.  She only giggles to herself as she continues munching on her snack, not bothering to explain how a character who looks and behaves nothing like him could possibly have her making a connection between the two.
He started to wonder if it was time to change his hair again, but as the movie progressed, he began to understand.  The kid had taken a vow of silence, and hadn’t spoken a word the entire movie.  Yet somehow, his thoughts and feelings were portrayed perfectly.  As the viewer, Toge was never left wondering what was going through his head.  Admittedly, he grew attached to this character quickly, and he found his focus latching onto the plot now with fervor.
Noticing this, (y/n) smiled to herself as she tucked herself further into the pile of pillows behind her.  It always warmed her heart to see him take interest in the things she liked.  Maybe even too much.
It’s mostly quiet between them as the movie continues, they don’t like to talk too much during movies, only comments deemed important enough to share before the end, or the ask to pass the snacks.  They usually would have a discussion at the end anyways, sharing all of their thoughts and favorite parts with one another.
Soon enough the couple hours passed, the snacks were mostly deplenished, and (y/n) was half asleep, eagerly asking him how he liked the movie despite the tears in her eyes that she was still wiping away with the half-used supply of tissues.
He nods back at her, chuckling softly at the sight of her still being so teary eyed when the movie had ended ten minutes ago.  Her lip is still wobbly and even as she folds and re-folds the tissue to keep wiping away the trail of tears.
Toge maneuvers onto his side, facing her with a small smile before taking the tissue from her hands.
“Mustard leaf” He says quietly, before reaching back out and drying up the trail of tears that she’d missed, down her cheek, and then along her jaw.  She sniffles between a watery giggle.
“Thank you,” Her voice cracks, and she laughs quietly again.  “That movie is just too much sometimes,” She explains, and Toge hums in understanding.  This wasn’t nearly as bad when they watched Wall-E.  “But I love it, what did you think?” 
“Salmon roe” He replies with a larger beam, which she mirrors right away, before her head feels a little heavier on his pillow.
“Okay, good,” She murmurs before a yawn overtakes her, and Toge’s eyes widen in realization when she tucks the blanket over her shoulders.  She’s going to fall asleep.  He starts to move to shake her awake, one hand curling around her shoulder and tugging slightly, but she doesn’t respond to his silent pleas telling her to get up.  “I’m really glad you liked it, you can pick the movie next time though” 
Toge huffs when she shuts her eyes and nuzzles into the pillow again.  It’s no use.  She’s already drifting off right in front of him.
“Bonito flakes” He mutters.
“It’s alright,” (y/n) yawns again.  “Just wake me up in, like, twenty minutes and I’ll go back to my room so we don’t get in trouble” 
Toge already knows how that’s going to go, but she’s out like a light mere seconds later.  He hasn’t seen anyone fall asleep so quickly.
With another sigh, he turns off the tv and places the remainder of the tissue package on his nightstand along with the remote.  It doesn’t take him long to fall asleep on his back beside her, even when his brain is working overtime trying not to hyperfixate on her leg pressed against his, or her soft breaths fanning over his shoulder as she sleeps.
His dreams are pleasant, with soft swirls of warm colors, sweet sensations of gentle touches and the lingering scent of cherries and vanilla, melodious giggles and whispers made of but sugar coated words.  The kind of dreams that you wake up from and wish there were just a few more minutes to latch onto the remnants of the hazy feeling.
As expected, (y/n’s) still there when he wakes up the following morning- not that he’d tried all too hard to send her back to her own room last night.  He just couldn’t bear to disrupt her peaceful sleep beyond a few whispers of her name and pokes to her forehead.
She’s awake not long after him, but she settles back into the covers, murmuring a raspy good morning to him.  SHe doesn’t seem startled by the surprise sleepover in the slightest, and the nerves Toge had let fester the last ten minutes of sitting awake and waiting for her to wake up.
There were still a few minutes of her being in and out of sleep, but after a while she’s stretching and getting herself out of bed with the promise of grabbing them both pop tarts before they had  to start training for the day.
Toge perks up at the prospect of pop tarts, and she giggles at his obvious change in demeanor, before telling him she’ll be quick, and taking off from his room.
He knows he should be rushing around to get ready for the day, but he can’t  bring himself to get up from the bed just yet.  It’s too warm, too comfortable, too alluring with the lingering scent of cherry vanilla still clinging to the sheets.
His heart feels full as he settles back in for just a few more minutes.
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(y/n) felt love for all of her friends.  She always sort of had, it developed not long after meeting each and every one of them.  She loved Maki’s ambition, Panda’s humor, Yuuta’s passion, each and every one of them were simultaneously the greatest person she’s ever known.  Her friends were her livelihood, her reason for fighting, her reason for trying, she doesn’t think she’d ever be able to repay them for what they’ve done for her.  The love she held for them was the purest kind there was.
The love she held for Inumaki Toge was different, though.
She loved Toge the way she loved late spring, with the way the pretty pink cherry blossoms begin to bloom, and the cool breeze turns warm, and suddenly everything doesn’t seem so gloomy and bitter all the time.  The sun seems to shine a little brighter and everyone seems to feel a little brighter, too.  It was exactly how loving Toge felt.
It was no secret to the others- if it had been, it would’ve been a terribly kept one, seeing as she could barely unglue herself from his side at any time.  If he entered a room, she would rush towards him.  If he came back from an assignment with an injury- no matter if it was life threatening or just a paper thin slice, she was patching him up with the utmost care Shoko’s infirmary could offer.  If Toge wasn’t around, she was texting him everything that was going on to keep him in touch.
There was nothing that brought her peace and joy quite like being around Toge.
She giggles as she tips her cup against her lips, sipping at the remnants of the drink she’d made only fifteen minutes ago.  Yuuta was sure to scold her when she wandered her way into the kitchen for the third time in an hour.
Toge’s laughter follows shortly after hers, although he’s not sure what exactly they’re giggling about, he just can’t help himself once she gets going.
His brows pinch together when he shakes his head, trying to ask her what it is that made her giggle fit erupt in the first place.  Once she’s calmed down enough to realize this, she grabs him by the shoulder.
At first his expression morphs into surprise, his eyes wide as he stares at her closely, before she’s swiveling him suddenly, guiding his eyes to the sight that was cracking her up.
Panda was in the common room, clearly feeling himself as he danced about, all slow twirls and raised arms.  He looks positively ethereal- in that loaded sort of way.
He’s quick to pull out his phone, setting his cup down to use both hands to steady the camera on Panda’s drunken ballet- or, attempt at ballet.  (y/n’s) giggling from beside him would definitely be caught in the video later, but neither of them minded, it only added to the humor of it all.
Maki must’ve noticed what they were up to, as she sneakily made her way over to the pill-shaped speaker, where she turned the volume up a few more notches.  This only excited Panda, who picked up the pace in his dancing.  (y/n) has to smack a hand over her mouth to stifle the cackle that erupts from her throat, but Toge doesn’t match her haste, and his laughter is almost louder than the music itself.
With a gentle smack to his shoulder, (y/n) shoots him a warning look, silently telling him to quiet down before Panda notices their recording.
Of course, Panda’s already noticed, his paws on his hips as he gawks at his so-called friends who were just making fun of him with their less than subtle camera pointed in his direction.
“Laugh it up, at least I’m having fun!” He points an accusatory finger at the two before turning his chin up with a dramatic flair.  Toge rolls his eyes, and just as he’s about to end the video, (y/n’s) face pops up on the camera.
“He’s right!” She says, a bit too loudly for standing right in front of him, but drinking always raised her volume.  She’s setting her cup down then, before reaching her free hand out to Toge, tugging on his wrist and disrupting the video that was still being recorded.  “We should dance!” 
“Mustard leaf!?” He replies, and she laughs, knowing it was his way of repeating ‘dance!?’ With uncertainty and surprise.
Her cheeks are pink, and he can’t make out if it’s because of the alcohol in her system, or if it was the brazen invitation of asking him to dance.  He’s not given much time to decipher it’s cause before she’s pulling harder at his wrist, and without another moment’s hesitation, Toge pockets his phone and follows her silent plea.  Distantly, he realizes she’s never had to work too hard to convince him of anything.
Maybe that was why they were all up far too late drinking together and dancing when they knew damn well that they had training bright and early tomorrow.
Panda’s cheering when (y/n’s) managed to drag Toge all the way into the common room where the music is playing the loudest.  He’s already resumed his twirling as if Fleetwood Mac is playing and not Joan Jett, but he’s enjoying himself, and no one is about to ruin his fun… again.
Toge’s never really danced before, besides the occasional sway from side to side, or a head bop.  So as soon as she starts swinging her hips and dragging his arm back and forth where she’s still got a grip on his wrist, he goes as stiff as a board.
It doesn’t take long before it dawns on her that he hasn’t been dancing, and she frowns at him, pulling at his arm to get him to come closer so she could talk to him.
“Why won’t you dance with me?” She asks, and it breaks his heart so completely that he can’t hide the way his face falls at her question.  (y/n) brightens up immediately, a string of bubbly laughter falling from her lips as she shakes her head.  “It’s not hard, just, move,” She says, shuffling her feet from side to side, her hips following in a languid motion.  “See?” 
He rolls his eyes at her, and she smacks his shoulder with her free hand, her semi-aggressive way of telling him he was making it a bigger deal than necessary, before both of her hands grab at his, and she guides him through the motions more properly.
The song that’s playing is upbeat, so she finds it easy to wave their arms together to the melody, while her hips keep the beat of the bass line.  After a few jolty movements on his part, he eventually begins to mirror, and just as she thought, he gets the hang of it and doesn’t look so awkward dancing with her.
(y/n) can’t wipe her grin off her face as she continues to move their hands about in sporadic motions, sometimes to the beat, sometimes at random.  Toge just latches his hands onto hers and lets her do whatever she pleases.
She’s never had to talk him into doing anything, he was always following her, whatever she was doing.
“See? It’s fun!” She’s the image of gleeful, twirling herself under one of his arms before prompting him to do the same.
Toge manages a few ‘salmon’s between her antics, before she starts to get more energetic with the beginning of the next song.  She claims it’s a classic 2000’s dance beat, and that it would be criminal if they didn’t dance through it, too.
Of course that turned into a third dance, then a fourth, and along with them a few more drinks.  They lose track of time, and eventually the rest of the world seems to fall away, too.  It’s a Wednesday night- well, early Thursday morning now- but all responsibilities that the day will hold is far from their minds.  It’s hard to notice that their friends have even started to wind down.  Panda had collapsed on the floor with a pile of empty water bottles surrounding him, currently chugging down another one.  Maki was scrolling through her phone nursing her own water, physically present, but too tired to engage in any more activities tonight.
And (y/n) and Toge were dancing around, jumping on their feet and twirling each other about like the night was still young and they had all the energy in the world.  Until eventually, Maki had given up on adding anything to the queue, and random songs they’d never heard of were playing, (y/n) still insisted that he stay up with her and keep dancing until they couldn’t anymore.
That was, until Maki retreated to her room for the night, and with her went the music.  (y/n) tried her best to plead with her to stay, but unfortunately Maki wasn’t as suggestable to her puppy dog eyes as Toge was.
“(y/n), listen to me closely,” Maki said in an uncharacteristically sweet voice, even going so far as to run a hand through her drunk friend’s hair.  Thinking that she was going to stay at the ‘party’- if it could still be called that- (y/n) gleamed up at her with a syrupy smile and heavy eyelids.  “Get some water, and get to bed” 
(y/n) deflated immediately.
“Makiiii~” She whined, and made another noise of dissatisfaction when she lost the physical affection, too.
“No buts!” Maki quips as she walks away with her phone and powered down speaker in hand.  “Toge, if you keep her up, then you’re dealing with the consequences tomorrow!” Maki barks at the other culprit to (y/n’s) deluded party-mode state.
“Salmon!” He hollers back, bringing his hand to his forehead in an all too serious salute.  It brings out a load of giggles from (y/n) that has Maki sending one last warning glare at the two before she finally leaves.
Yeah, she absolutely wasn’t dealing with that mess in the mornings.
“She doesn’t hate us,” (y/n) sighs out to Toge, unprovoked, but he can tell she’s completely serious by the way she stares up at him.  “She’s just grumpy she has to get up in the morning” 
Toge raises his eyebrows with slight concern, before twirling his finger around in a short circle between them.
(y/n’s) jaw drops as she gapes at him.
“I know we do too,” She argues.  “But it’ll be fine, I’m used to waking up early” 
He gives her a look, but she doesn’t relent in her stare.  So he pulls his phone out to show her the time.
2:48 A.M.
But her eyes barely register the hour, instead she’s glued to the wallpaper on his lockscreen, and she’s lighting back up with energy as she reaches for his phone and snatches it before he could react.
It was ridiculous how she maintained her speed and strength even when intoxicated.  Toge wondered if it was safe for jujutsu sorcerers to drink this heavily. 
“Is this us?” She asks, even though she was currently admiring the photo of the two of them on his lockscreen.
Toge’s quick to zip up his collar in order to hide the heat flushing his cheeks.
“This is so cute!” She delights in the image, cradling his phone in both hands as though to preserve it with great care.  
The picture isn’t even new to her, and she’d been the one to take it.  A few months ago she’d tried her hand at baking, and had been quite eager to bring a cinnamon cake to a hangout with the rest of their friends.  She might’ve promised it before she was certain of her baking abilities, and had required Toge’s help not long into the process.  As happy as he was to aid her in her new hobby, he couldn’t help but find humor in just how helpless she seemed to be in the kitchen at first.  She hardly even knew her way around the cabinets.  Hours later the cake had turned out just fine- their friends had even gone for seconds- but not without it’s difficulties.
Toge had snapped the photo when the cake had just been put into the oven, before they began the tedious cleanup process.  She had flour in her hair and some stuck to her cheek.  It was a good thing she’d chosen to wear an apron because it was covered in the various ingredients they’d used.  But despite the messy state of herself and the kitchen in the background, she was grinning from ear to ear, clearly excited to see the results of her cake soon.  Toge’s mirroring the smile, although there’s not a speck on him.  After the whole process, he’d managed to keep himself completely clean.
“I didn’t know you made this your wallpaper, that’s really sweet,” She’s handing him his phone back after the torturous few seconds are over, and Toge slips it into his pocket quickly.  His blush might’ve been hidden by the collar of his jacket, but it was still made obvious by his shifting eyes that couldn’t quite meet hers.
“That was a really fun day actually, we should bake something together again sometime!” She lights up, and he can tell that she’s already trying to think of something to go make right now.  It’s clear she’s already forgotten the time- or maybe she just didn’t care that much.  “We could-” 
“Tuna tuna” Toge gives her a look, before tapping the back of his wrist a few times, hoping to remind her of the task at hand.
It was no wonder Maki rushed off to her own dorm.
(y/n) huffed in annoyance, but ultimately followed alongside him as he tried ushering her out of the common room and towards the dorms.  She stumbled along and tried to slow him down, came up with a few more mumbled excuses to stay up later, all of which were met by quiet chuckles and reminders of ‘tuna’.
It took some ping-ponging down the halls, but eventually he got her to her room, and even though the night was over, she seemed rather pleased to be back in her own room.
“Spicy cod roe” Toge barely mumbles the words out as he’s gesturing about her room to her, before raising his hand to his mouth to mimic drinking a cup of water.
She smiles back at him in perfect understanding before she gives him a nod of her head.
Her movements are lazy as she strolls about the room to get changed into something she can sleep in.  Her coordination was less than subpar compared to her usual level of functioning, but that wouldn’t be a problem for another few hours.
It’s not long before there’s a knock on her door, and she’s opening it with the brightness of a christmas tree when Toge is on the other side with two bottles of water.
Wordlessly, she invites him in by stepping aside and pulling the door open further.  Toge passes off one of the bottles to her as he does so.
“Are you staying?” She asked, nodding to the bottle still in his hand.  “We can watch a movie?” She offers hopefully.
It’s a little past three in the morning now.  He tries to give her a look to reminder of this, but she doesn’t seem to care when she sticks her bottom lip out and folds her hands together in a pleading motion.
He sighs, and she brightens up again.  It’s almost comical how small but sweet of a smile could have him agreeing to anything.  It’s almost as if she’s the one with a cursed technique designed to compel, and not him.
While glancing through the array of dvds on her shelves, Toge wonders what things would be like if the roles had been reversed.  If he was the one able to tell her his every thought and feeling as they pass.  He wonders if she would have known how he felt about her a long, long time ago.
He’d dealt with his cursed speech in the best way that he could.  Of course he didn’t love it, of course things would be easier if he could talk like anyone else, he could gamble a good ninety percent of his life would’ve gone smoother.  No more stupid rice ball ingredients, and no more hoping that just a look would be enough to communicate to the girl he loves that he loves her.  That he purely, wholly, desperately loves her.
He picks out a dvd and pops it into her player- she’d dragged it back into her room last week after waking him up in the middle of the night because she was in the mood to watch one of her favorites.  Once the opening credit scenes start to roll, he finds that she’s already cozied up on one side of the bed, her blanket tucked to her chin, and her water bottle cradled in both of her hands.  She smiles when he turns to her, and then pats the space beside her, waiting patiently for him to sit with her.
He lets out a sigh as he sinks into the mattress beside her.  He taps his wrist twice before raising his hand and pinching his thumb and forefinger together, an easy way to gesture just for a little bit.
“Okay,” (y/n) nods, then takes the edge of her blanket to throw it over his lap too.  “Just for a little bit” Her voice is merely a hum, words slurred together just a little bit, but there’s not a flicker of uncertainty in her features when she gazes upon him.
It’s only a few minutes into the movie when she slumps against him, the entire side of her body pressed into his, from their shoulders to their legs.  Toge chuckles as she begins to give in to her exhaustion, and as sweet as it was that she got cuddly when she was drunk and sleepy, he prayed she’d pass out soon so that the morning wouldn’t be so rough.  They were well past getting a full eight hours before training tomorrow, and dealing with Gojo alone would be a burden.  Not because he would go rough on them- but because as soon as he sniffed out a little bit of a hangover, he’d be relentless with his teasing.
(And he might tack on a few extra laps on the track as minor punishment.  Normally no big deal.  But when you’re fighting off puking your guts out?) 
Toge makes a mental note to have aspirin and a heavy meal ready first thing in the mornings so she could get it all out of her system as quickly as possible.  One measly water bottle tonight just wouldn’t cut it.
When her head hits his shoulder in a soft thump, he looks down at her, checking to see if she’s finally fallen asleep.  To his surprise, she tilts her head back in order to meet his gaze.  Pink dusts over her cheeks and the corners of her mouth tilt upwards, no doubt a reaction from the alcohol in her system and their close proximity.
“You think I could get out of training with a sick day tomorrow?” She murmurs, earning a wince from Toge.  She didn’t need words to understand what that meant.  “You’re right,” She sighs, briefly turning her attention back to the movie.  “Gojo’s gonna fry me” 
This time he chuckles, and she glances back at him again.
“Mustard leaf…” 
A small giggle escapes her as well, her eyes crinkling despite knowing the fate she would face come tomorrow.
“Maybe I’ll just fess up straight away,” She thinks aloud.  “If I cry a bit, he might take pity on me, I dunno,” 
Toge struggles to hold eye contact with her, not because the movie was just so enticing he could barely pay attention to her, but quite the opposite.  With her cuddled up against his side and whispering so softly right into his ear he could hardly focus on anything other than her.  To his knowledge, the rest of the world was completely wiped away.  It was an ability she’d somehow mastered unknowingly, making him forget that there was anything else going on around them when the two of them were together.
His heart was pounding so hard in his chest he was sure she must notice, with how close she is, she could probably feel it, but if she does, she doesn’t say a thing.
“Or you could tell him I died,” She adds suddenly, and Toge snorts out a laugh, making her giggle again.  
His eyes finally hold contact with hers for longer than a passing second, and she seems to melt further against him.  She doesn’t feel heavy against his shoulder, but she might as well be an anchor keeping him trapped in place.  
Yeah, there’s not a chance he’ll only be here for a little bit.
“You’d cover for me, right?” She asks, and it’s only meant to be a tease, but Toge raises his free arm that wasn’t being leaned on by hers, and crosses his finger over his heart.  “Wow,” (y/n) gushes in her surprise, eyebrows raised and lips curling into a wider smile.  She’s so beautiful to him at this moment that he now hopes he’ll be the one to pass out before he does something stupid.  “Cross your heart and hope to die, huh?” She muses.  “That’s pretty serious” 
He scoffs again, barely rolling his eyes, but his attention is drawn back to her again when she shifts around to lay on her side.  She’s still very much cuddled up to him, and he can tell she makes an effort to stay that way as she gets comfortable in a new position.  She even hooks her ankle over his, a silent ask for him to stay longer.  Her cheek leans back into his shoulder soon enough, and he knows he should be leaving when she starts to bat her eyelashes, but even as a Grade Two sorcerer he doesn’t have the strength to do so.
“Can I ask you a real question?” 
Everyone’s least favorite question of all time.
Toge affirms with a nod of his head, barely managing a smile to assure her.
“Does it get old?” Her voice grows even softer.  “Listening to me talk all the time?” 
He shakes his head just as quickly, the smile disappearing as a knot forms between his pinched brows.  She gives him a wobbly smile, feeling a bit endeared by how quickly he tried to tell her otherwise.
“Really?” She asks, still a bit unsure.  “Sometimes I try to shut my mouth, I… I don’t want to make you feel like you’re stuck listening to me all the time, but, uh, I can’t help it sometimes.  I… really like talking to you” She’s rambling before she knows it- and then blushing at the irony of it all.
His smile returned then, stretching wide until his teeth were showing, and he was laughing quietly at her.  Not to be malicious, of course, he was simply amused and absolutely lovestruck by the sweet admission.  Toge reached out, affectionately touching the pad of his thumb to her chin, before he shifted around to get his phone out of his pocket.
This didn’t call for rice ball ingredients, or small gestures to convey what he was thinking.  He’d need to communicate properly to her with how much he’d have to say.
(y/n) watched on as he opened his notes app and began to type.
it could never get old.  i like listening to you talk :)
It makes her heart stutter in her chest, but she can’t help the giggle that escapes her when he adds a little emoji, too.  Toge spaces down to a new line before typing more.
does it get old that i can’t talk with you the same way? 
He watches as her eyes scan over the screen quickly, before she turns to him and shakes her head.
“Of course not,” She tells him right away.  “I- I think we understand each other just fine… don’t we?” 
It dawns on her that they’ve never really talked about this before.  Even when they first met, it was like she was told he had cursed speech and she took it upon herself to learn how he communicated as quickly as possible.  Perhaps all that time she spent around him those first few months after her enrollment were what led to their closeness now.  Saying she was headstrong in being able to understand him would have been an understatement.  She had constantly been picking up on the subtleties between his rice ball ingredients, or paying attention to every hand movement or direction of his gaze to know what he was talking about.  
And it was a very, very rare case when she couldn’t understand him.  Toge could hardly recall a time it had happened.
He sets his phone down on his lap, nodding his head back at her as his eyes shifted between hers.  Her lashes hung heavy, eyelids almost falling shut with every blink, but she wasn’t giving into sleep just yet.
She mirrors his nod with a short one of her own, her eyes filled with an emotion he can’t say he’s ever seen in her before.  He studies it curiously, forgetting any sense of embarrassment from staring at her so blatantly… but then again, she wasn’t exactly shying away either.  Was it the alcohol?
“Toge,” His name falls from her lips in a mere breath, so small her mouth hardly moves, so quiet it almost doesn’t grace his ears.  “I… I hope you know you can tell me anything… anytime…” 
It’s such a sweet admission that he can’t help but reach out to her again, his thumb touching her chin in the way he usually does when he’s teasing her, but now it feels… different.  His touch lingers, and the look in his eyes feels heavier than she’s used to.  She’s flustering suddenly, her heartbeat picking up in pace, her face feeling even hotter the longer she holds his stare.  After another prolonged minute of his touch to her face, she finds herself reaching up for his hand, cupping the back of it and holding it there for just a few moments longer.
And then comes a delicate, carefully worded whisper on his part.
“I know” 
He pauses for a few seconds after he says it, just to be sure there were no lasting effects left on her.  Just as he expected, those words didn’t seem to hold any cursed energy, and she didn’t seem paralyzed or compelled in the slightest.  She simply smiles back at him, her eyelashes batting a few more times.
“Okay, good,” She murmurs, before tucking herself closer to him, nuzzling her head into his chest to get comfortable.  
She’s long forgotten the movie that was playing, and honestly, so had he.  Toge knows now it’s only a matter of minutes before she’s finally knocked out.  With a yawn, she finally drops her hand from his, but Toge opts to leave it in it’s place, carefully cradled under her jaw, his thumb swiping over her cheekbone in slow and lazy movements.
“Just stay the night, ‘kay?” She mumbles into his shirt, throwing her free arm over his waist.  “If someone notices, I’ll take the blame,” She says, and then quickly adds, “But no one will” 
His chest vibrates beneath her when he chuckles, and she merely smiled to herself as sleep finally overcomes her.
Toge hesitates on moving to turn off the tv.  Any one wrong move and he’d risk waking her, and he certainly didn’t want to do that.  So with drawn out movements, he carefully gets the tv turned off, and places the remote on the nightstand.
(y/n) doesn’t wake up, to his luck, she doesn’t even stir.  She’s sound asleep, dead weight like a rock on top of him.  But a welcome rock she was.
He didn’t even mind having to sleep in a half seated position, or the fact that the arm she’s laying on is starting to prickle with pins and needles.  None of it matters when he can faintly feel her heart beating against his chest, right beside his.
Toge only got a hair of sleep that night, but even during the rough training session the following morning, all he could think about was how soft her hair felt when he’d run his hand through it.
If what came after falling in love was a crash landing, he was definitely nearing the ground.
✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧
When he first comes to, all Toge can barely make out is the dim light above him.  His mind is hazy, a swarm of disconnected thoughts like ‘where am I?’ and ‘why are the lights so dim in Shoko’s infirmary?’.  Nothing really makes sense until the haze begins to clear.
The next sense to come back was his hearing, and he wished it had taken a little longer because it wasn’t pleasant.
At first it’s just a sharp ringing, distant at first, like someone blowing a whistle far away from here.  But it didn’t take long for it to grow nearer and nearer, until eventually it was right in front of him, breaking through to let him take in the other sounds around him.
Whimpering.  Soft weeping, maybe.  Quiet, like the owner of the quiet cries, was trying not to wake him.
Then it was sniffling, also quiet and contained.  So faint he could just barely make it out, but paired with the cries, it wasn’t hard to understand what was going on.
He has to squeeze his eyes shut after the short exposure to the yellow light, but soon enough he’s forcing them open again.  This time he’s greeted with the blurry silhouette of the crier.
“(y/n)-” 
It’s no surprise his throat is so dry and raw that he feels blood pool on his tongue as soon as he rasps out her name, but it was enough to capture her attention, so he tries to ignore the pain for now.
A hushed “Ohmygod” is whispered under her breath so fast her lips barely move, before she’s a blurry mess of movements above him.  His eyes can’t track everything, but he thinks her hands are shaking around his face from the tapping over her fingertips on his cheeks.  “You’re- you’re awake?” She mumbles out, a hint of a whimper still trembling in her voice.
Just as he parts his lips to give her an affirmative response, her eyes widen, and her fingertips press further into his cheeks until he can feel the full length of her fingers against his skin.  They’re still shaking, but her touch is warm.
“Wait, don’t say anything, I’m sure your throat’s a mess right now,” Even when she’s not sniffling over her words, they’re watery, just a little bit stuck in her throat.  “But you’re- you’re awake,” She repeats, a smile briefly stretching on her lips, before it quickly falls back into that wobbly frown.  His vision begins to focus when he settles it there, hoping it’ll disappear into another smile again.
Why was she such a wreck? She’d never cried over him before, and he’s been injured plenty of times, Toge couldn’t wrap his mind around it.  It was making it harder to fight past the hazy state of waking up.  
There were small, wet splashes against his face that startled him enough to change his focus, eyes suddenly moving his line of sight upwards, finding her eyes were in fact full of tears, and most of them were streaming down her face.  He can’t say or do much, but concern is evident on his face.
“Are you in pain? Does anything hurt?” She wipes uselessly at the tears on her face when she speaks.  The dry patches were just as quickly replaced by more streaks of tears.
Toge shakes his head, although it’s not a complete truth.  His head is still spinning, the metallic taste of blood was burning the scratches in his throat, but most peculiar was the dull ache of his left arm.  It wasn’t a sharp pain, or even enough to bring a tear to his eye, and yet the throbbing of it captured all of his attention.  He couldn’t not think about it.  Was it broken? Why hadn’t Shoko healed it? It never feels like this after her Reverse Cursed Technique…
“Okay,” (y/n) whimpers, sniffling before she speaks again.  “Okay, that- that’s good, that’s good…” Her voice grows quiet, and Toge’s shaking his head at her again, trying to voice his confusion with this whole ordeal, trying to ask her what was wrong.
All he can do is twitch his right hand until she notices, and as soon as she turns her head, she picks his hand up in both of hers.  She’s swift but gentle, cradling it as if his bones would shatter from a movement too rough.  He tries to curl his fingers around hers, but it takes too much effort, so he goes to bring his other hand around hers as well.
A strained gasp escapes him when he lifts his left arm, his eyes shooting open from the pain and difficulty of the action, neck swiveling to see what was so wrong that he couldn’t do something so simple as to hold her hand and comfort her.
They’re both frozen when he finally looks at his left arm.  Or, lack thereof.
(y/n’s) crying seems to cease completely as she holds her breath, and Toge’s chest is moving rapidly, but his inhales and exhales are nearly silent.
When he looks up at her again, she brings a hand to her mouth, stifling the sob that shakes her entire body as she begins to cry again, just as hard as she had when she’d found him.
“I’m- I’m sorry,” Is what she says first, it’s all that really comes to mind at first, she doesn’t know where to begin, how she’s supposed to explain it to him, what the gentle way of proceeding was.
She almost wished someone was here now, but there wasn’t.  There was no one.  Everyone was either missing, or had died in the aftermath, there was only the two of them.  The world had shrunk down to leave just the two of them it seemed- and they weren’t allowed their peace.
“Shibuya- it’s- when I found you-” She tries, she really does, but so many words flood her mind at once that they get lodged in her throat, and she’s never really learned how to navigate this sort of thing before.  This was always Gojo’s job, or Nanami’s…
With a deep breath, (y/n) straightens her posture as she’s kneeled beside Toge on the ground, and she gives his hand a small squeeze.
“Without a Reversed Curse Technique, I did the best that I could,” She says, a little bit more clearly, but not without a few hiccups.  “The runes on the wrappings should keep it from getting infected, at the very least,” 
Toge looks back at his left side again, taking in a long, good look at the missing space where the rest of his arm used to be.  Then his gaze shifts upwards, where what’s left of his bicep is wrapped in perfect bindings.  It appears every inch of the gauze is covered in neatly drawn runes.
How long had this taken her? How long had he been out? 
“It’s been a couple of days,” She sighs, pushing a hand through her hair and slouching again.  “It’s not… great, as you can see,” She adds, gesturing around them.
It’s only then that Toge’s really taken in their surroundings.  They’re in a tent, that’s just big enough for the two of them.  The shitty light his eyes had adjusted to was just a lantern tied around the center post.
“But it’s worked for now… I’ve been out a few times, there’s water, um, some food…” She trails off as she’s glancing around, already losing pace and barely keeping up with what she’s saying.  What was she supposed to say? “I… I haven’t crossed paths with anyone else yet” 
Toge’s hand twitches in hers, fingers flexing for a moment before he pulls it out of her hold.  It’s slow and shaky when he brings his hand to her face, but he is able to make the reach.  She leans closer to him so he wouldn’t have to stretch too much.  Toge presses the entirety of his palm into her cheek, fingertips prodding at her hairline, thumb tracing against her cheekbone.
That wobbly smile returns when she presses her palm against the back of his hand.  She’s still crying, but it seems a little more under control.  He wonders if she’s even aware of the never ending tears, or if she’s grown used to it.
“Thank you” 
A watery scoff of a laugh escapes her, and then she shakes her head at him.
“You shouldn’t be thanking me,” She mumbles, and his thumb begins to drag lower, across the hollow of her cheek, coming to the corner of her mouth.
He nods his head to make his argument, a furrow in his brows that tells her he’s serious, but she doesn’t seem to take him as such.
“We’re in the middle of nowhere,” She sniffles.  “There’s barely any food, I’ve been in this ruined uniform for days, all of our friends are missing and the strongest sorcerer in the world is in the prison realm, you’re hurt, and it very well may be the end of the world-” 
He has to drop his hand from her face in order to have the strength to push himself into a sitting position, but once he does he’s just as quick to bring it back.
She’s crying too much to keep adding to her list of everything that’s gone wrong in the last few days, but this time Toge tries to wipe the tears away as he shushes her softly.  It takes a few minutes, but eventually the tears come to a stop, and Toge drops his hand again.
This time he makes a gesture to her.  It’s drawn out, despite it being a simple one.  He points his finger out, touching it to her collarbone, then his eyes meet hers again, and they’re tearing up again.  He frowns.  Then taps her shirt a few more times, trying to make his point clearer.
You’re still here.
He can only hope that more taps will make sense to her.
The corner of (y/n’s) lips tilt upwards, and he thinks with the amount of emotions flickering behind her eyes, that understanding is amongst them.
“I’m glad you’re here… with me,” She mumbles out.  “I don’t know what I would’ve done….” The thought trails off with her words, and she turns her head away, chewing on the inside of her cheek.  The exhale she lets out instead is slow, and shaky.
Toge lifts his hand to turn her chin back towards him, a frown on his face as his eyes meet hers.
Again, he points at her, but this time he presses the pad of his finger square against her chin, and then turns it towards himself, mirroring the touch to his own chin.  A crease forms between her brows, and he repeats it- tapping her chin twice with a featherlight touch, and then his own.
We’re both still here.
Weakly, another smile graced her lips.  She understood.
“Whatever is next, we take on together… yeah?” She asks him, her voice hushed, a certain anxiety filling her chest with a crawling feeling, but Toge’s response couldn’t have eased it away faster.
He nods, leaning in closer, bringing his hand back to her cheek so he could tilt her head downward just the slightest, enough for him to brush his lips over her forehead in a light kiss.  So light if she wasn’t staring at him with wide eyes, she might’ve missed it altogether.
Like a deer caught in headlights, she holds her stare even once Toge’s pulled away.  Her parted lips holding no definitive emotion, he’s not exactly sure what she’s thinking when she stares at him like that, but he doesn’t feel any regret from the action.  They were all they had now, and there might not be any amount of comfort to delude them into thinking things were going to turn out perfectly fine, but they could certainly try.  Perhaps they could go just a few minutes at a time feeling some relief.
They weren’t alone.  And despite it all, they were alive.  At this moment anyways, Toge couldn’t ask for more.
With the backs of her hands, (y/n) roughly wipes away the lingering tears on her face, before she reaches out to him.  Just as her hands cradle around his face, he’s meeting her halfway, eyes shut before their lips even touch.
As hasty as it is, it’s a tender kiss.  Neither one of them wanted to move too fast at the risk of bumping an injury, but the years of pent up emotions came pouring out of it nonetheless.  Her calloused and bruised hands somehow feel silky smooth when they glide over his jaw.  Any fears or pains melt away under the gift of her soft kiss.  Toge could almost forget all of it, just for that moment.
When she pulls away, quietly panting to catch her breath after holding it the entirety of the kiss, the unreadable look on her face fades away into something else.  Bittersweet relief.
Her eyes shift between his, finding the same emotion in them that she’s currently feeling.  Affectionately, her thumbs trace over the markings on either side of his mouth.  There’s a moment of silence between them as they bask in the first pleasant moment they’d had in a while.  It’s no surprise that it’s only come when they’re together.
“We’ll find the others,” (y/n) murmurs assuredly after a minute.  “We’ll figure it out,” And as she says it, she starts to believe it, slowly but surely she pulls herself out of her cynicism, hope and certainty replacing it when she looks at him.  “Together” 
His own hand slides across her cheek and wraps comfortably at the nape of her neck, holding her delicately but closely.  Toge nods, smiling back at her with as much conviction as he could.
“Together” 
✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧
[ it’s a cruel, cruel world, but we don’t care // cause what we’ve got, we’ve got to share ]
✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧
xoxo ~ jordie a/n: for anyone who got the little miss sunshine edit mwah mwah mwah bc it's a comfort movie of mine &lt;3
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Pairing : Lee Felix x F!Reader TW : pregnancy ; miscarriage ; major angst ; Word Count : 3.5k
“Felix!” You squealed as his arms wrapped around your waist from behind, his nose nuzzling against your cheek as the softest chuckle filled your ears that his lips were right beside. Kisses were peppered against any surface he could reach as he swayed your body’s side to side, your own instinctively relaxing against him. “Remember what I said, right?” You murmured, tilting your head up to glance at him, his eyes twinkling with excitement even though he was dramatically pouting at you. 
“I know, I know.” He grumbled, his thumb absentmindedly drawing circles against your stomach. “No telling STAY until the 5th month…” He sighed, his chin falling against your shoulder. “I’m just so excited, and I know they’ll be just as excited as I am when they hear about it.” 
You knew he was excited, you had recorded his reaction when you had surprised him with the news that you were pregnant on his birthday. The little “Congratulations Dad” card slipped in between the birthday card that you had gotten him, and you were so glad that you had decided at the last minute to film him opening the card. His reaction was genuine and precious, and the tears that filled his eyes as he looked up at you with a questioning smile, awaiting your reassurance that it wasn’t just some prank before jumping off the couch and engulfing you in a hug… It had all been enough to bring tears to your own eyes as you continued to assure him that yes, you really were pregnant. 
Sometimes you felt that he was even more excited than you were, and you were only just now entering your 3rd month. Felix had all but started the nursery for the baby by now, the names had already been picked out, and while you wanted the news to be kept from the fans just a little while longer, he was all too eager to tell the guys who shared in his joy about a new family member. He was the best partner to have, when you were feeling your worst and the symptoms were downright awful, he was always there to do his best to help you feel better. That is, until he had to go on tour. 
The announcement of the upcoming world tour was unexpected, and even Felix seemed a little taken back by it. The last thing he planned on doing during your pregnancy was traveling around the world, but you tried to think positively about it, hoping that your positivity would brush off on him and he’d be less reluctant to leave. 
“So you’re sure you don’t need me to stay here with you?” Felix posed the question as he stood by the front door, a duffle bag swung over his shoulder. Even though the question was meant to make it seem like you’re the one who’d need him to stay, both of you knew that he wanted you to say yes, he wanted you to give him any reason you could to stay with him. As much as you wanted him to stay though, you knew that it would be selfish, especially when so many fans wanted to see him. 
“I’m sure, babe.” You said the words through little bouts of giggles as you leaned against the wall, waiting to say those final goodbyes before he was gone. It used to be extremely hard to watch him leave, and you’d usually be the one trying to make up excuses just to delay his departure, but you were used to it now. It’s not that it wasn’t sad still, but after 4 years together, you were better at it, you both were, and you had figured out how to work around the time differences so that you could call each other and at least video chat once a day. This time would be no different, you both knew that. “Plus, by the time you finish the tour and you’re able to come back home, I’ll be close to 6 months, you won’t have to wait so long.” 
His head nodded, and as if you had just told him you were pregnant again for the first time, his eyes gleamed with just something else to get excited over. “Alright… You’re right, and then I only have to wait 3 months… Perfect… I don’t like waiting… I just want to meet them…” His eyes formed into thin crescents as his smile widened, his bag dropping to the floor as he walked over to you, his hands cupping your cheeks before pressing a deep kiss to your lips, the suddenness of it giving you a headrush. “I’ll miss you, angel… Keep yourself safe…” He lowered down just enough to brush his fingers along your stomach before giving it a small kiss that had your heart swelling. “And you stay safe too, my little nugget. Don’t give your mom too much trouble.” He rested his forehead against your tummy for a second, letting out a soft sigh, one last opportunity for you to just tell him to stay, but the silence out lasted the opportunity and he slowly got back to his feet, smiling softly to you. “Make sure you send me daily belly pictures, and video call me at doctors appointments so I can be there… Okay? Please?” 
Even with your reassurance, you knew that this was hard for him. This was the most exciting time of his life, not just career wise, but now at home as well. His family was growing, and he had to leave you when you were most vulnerable. It made him feel awful that he wouldn’t be there for you, and no amount of it’s okay’s would make him feel any less awful. It would be rough, but not without reward. He knew that once he got home he’d be with you again, and he wouldn’t have to wait as long either. 
“Felix, we’re about to go on…” Hyunjin whispered, his hand waving in front of the younger member's face to get his attention away from the video call that he was currently on with you. “We have like five minutes, and I know that you’re not going to just hang up on her, you need five minutes just to say goodbye because you do that back and forth thing that’s really cringy.” 
Felixs face scrunched up with embarrassment as his cheeks were flushed a light pink, his head turning to look at Hyunjin. “I do not take five minutes just to say goodbye, and we do not do the cringy back and forth thing. We promised we wouldn’t be like that…” His head quickly turned back to the screen when he heard your snicker that you attempted to muffle. “We don’t do that… Do we?” 
Your lips pursed and slightly turned up at the corners. “What if I said it totally isn’t cringe and I love our 5 minute back and forth goodbyes.” You posed, but your laugh sounded through the speakers as his head fell back and he let out a groan, especially when Hyunjin started laughing too, patting the younger man's shoulder and giving him an I told you so before walking off. “You really need to get out there though…” 
Now that Hyunjin was out of the room, Felix could return to the matter of the call, and as annoying as his hyung was at the moment, it was a welcomed distraction from what the two of you were talking about. “Call me… text me when you get to the doctors… let me know what’s going on, please.” He whispered, his stress sky high, the first time in a while that he’s felt this way before a show and it wasn’t even due to going in front of thousands of fans that he felt this way. 
“I will…” You sighed softly, and even though he could see it in your eyes, in the way you sat on the couch, you were just as worried as he was, you still tried your best to ease his mind and comfort him. “It’s probably nothing though. I’m sure it’s normal. The doctors are probably gonna think I’m silly for coming in for something as small as this.” Your weak chuckle filled the otherwise silent room, but Felix couldn’t laugh with you, he was panicking, and the worst part was that he was on the complete other side of the world right now when he wanted nothing more than to be with you, especially right now. 
“I’m serious, angel… I don’t care if I’m in the middle of dancing. Call me, let me know what’s going on.” He said, more sternly now as the knocks came against his door letting him know time was up. “I love you, I love you so much… And I love our little nugget too. Be safe, okay? Promise me that you’ll be safe, that you’ll let me know.” 
Your head nodded quickly as you blew him a quick kiss. “I’ll text you, pinky promise. I love you more. Call me when you’re done.” You whispered, and he watched you through the phone, wishing that he could hold you, that he could kiss you, that one push of that little red button at the bottom of the screen wouldn’t make your face disappear from his view. The stupid tour was keeping him away from you, and while you tried to hide it from him, he knew that you wanted him there now, you needed him there more than anything right now. 
Felixs mind was completely overtaken by thoughts of you, thoughts of his child as he stood on stage. He couldn’t even focus on the choreography, his steps out of place and he constantly bumped into the other members who, in any other situation, would have gotten annoyed by his continuous mistakes, but they knew he was lost in his own mind, in his own worries about what was going on back at home. 
It took a while for him to even begin to calm down, but the lack of buzzing in his back pocket was, in a way, more comforting than it usually would be. Things were fine, that’s what he kept telling himself, what the guys kept telling him whenever they passed him on the stage. Back pats and intermittent hugs were common, trying to keep him from thinking too much about what was happening or what could be happening. 
What he didn’t know was that back at home in the small little room with the flowers and the smiley faces on the ceiling, you were curled up on the hospital bed, eyes bloodshot from crying as you held the last ultrasound picture you’d receive from this pregnancy that had abruptly ended with no real reason. 
You didn’t call, not yet, not because you didn’t want to, but because you couldn’t. You couldn’t bring yourself to deliver the news to him when you knew he was already worried about you, when you knew he was standing on stage in front of thousands of fans. If you told him, he’d definitely run off the stage just to talk to you, trying to find the next available flight to make it home. 
So no, you didn’t call him, but you shot him a quick text, hoping that he wouldn’t check it until after the concert was over. “I’m so sorry, Lixie… Nugget is gone…” Was all the text said, truthfully, you didn’t know how to put it. How were you supposed to tell him something so awful when he was thousands of miles away? All you wanted to do was be held by him and cry with him over the future that was snatched away from the both of you without any warning. 
The vibration in his pocket was something that he had been waiting for, his hand quickly reaching into the back of his jeans to pull it out, pretending that he was about to take a picture. The smile that had been on his face at the thought of the new ultrasound pictures he’d be receiving quickly faded when he read the message notification on his lock screen. 
It took everything, everything for him to not collapse in the middle of the stage right then and there, his eyes already brimming with tears as his arms fell limp at his sides. Fans continued to cheer, adrenaline and excitement emanating from all of them, but he was in his own bubble, his sad, dark cloud filled bubble that all of those joyous emotions bounced off of. 
“Felix?” Chan was the first to notice, rushing over to him and quickly pulling him off to the side of the stage, and it was only then, once out of the spotlight, that Felix allowed himself to crumble under the crashing wave of emotions that washed over him. “Wh-What happened? Talk to me, Felix.” 
But he could only shake his head as the tears rolled down his freckled cheeks, his mouth opened but no words coming out, only small gasps as a shaky hand held out his phone to the leader. What was he supposed to do now? He felt like a failure, he failed to be there for you, to be the boyfriend that would always stand beside you even during the hardest times. This was the worst time for both of you, yet you were going through it alone. 
At this point all the other members were staring at him, the entire venue had fallen silent as every one there focused their attention on the crying man that was just slightly out of view. “I-I don’t know what to do… hyung… What do I do?” Felix whimpered, glassy eyes staring up at the man who, for the first time, didn’t have much of a suggestion. Chan didn’t know how this felt, none of them did, none of the other guys had ever been through something like this, let alone so far away. 
“If you need to go home, then go home, Felix.” Was all Chan could offer, a firm hand planted on the younger man's shoulder. “Y/N needs you way more than we do right now, way more than STAY needs you…” And Felix knew that, the problem was that he didn’t know the first thing to do once he got home. Of course, he’d hold you and he’d tell you that it would be okay even though he’d know that both of you felt the complete opposite of okay. 
How was he even supposed to step foot inside of his home when it would just be a constant reminder of the child that he had already prepared for, a child that he loved so much before even seeing them, a child that had been stolen away from both him and you before either of you got to even meet them. How was he supposed to keep composed enough to even be there for you? 
Even if he didn’t decide to go home, he wouldn’t be able to continue performing. He couldn’t even pretend to be excited, let alone pretend to actually care about the show right now. You, the love of his life, were experiencing what he could only imagine to be the worst possible thing that you could ever have to go through, and there was no way in hell he’d leave you alone any longer than you needed to be. Sure, he didn’t know the first thing he’d say to you, he didn’t even know what to think for himself to calm his own emotions, but the least he could be is there. 
“STAY…” He whispered into the mic, not wanting them to worry if he just ran off stage without a word, and he didn’t want to put the weight on Chans or any of the other members shoulders. They’d have to finish the show, the rest of the tour without him, the least he could do is say goodbye and apologize. “There’s… some things… going on at home right now for me… And I need to get back home to help take care of them…” He choked out the words, his eyes glistening under the spotlight that was casted down on him. “I’m so sorry… I promise to make it up to you when I’m able to… But I need to go now.” 
There were a few sounds of disappointment coming from the crowd, but he knew that the fans, the real fans, would understand and they wouldn’t hold it against him. He didn’t even wait for the words of the other guys as he rushed off stage, fingers working quickly to undo the mic that he was wired with. Now that that was over with, you were the only thing on his mind. 
Tears fell down his face in the solitude of first class on the plane that carried him back home, and most of the flight he slept, unable to keep his eyes open once they got too puffy from crying. He felt like the dictionary definition of a train wreck right now, the makeup that had been put on him before the concert had yet to be cleanly removed, the small amount of eyeliner and eyeshadow blotchy under his eyes from wiping them too much. He didn’t care who might see him or the photos that would come out if any were taken. One day he’d tell the world about what happened, and that day they’d understand why he looked this way, but for now, their words would mean nothing to him, their reports were pointless and false. They could say anything they wanted, nothing would ever hurt him as much as the small two sentence text that he had gotten on stage. 
He knew that you’d be upset, he had, in some sense, prepared for that, but he couldn’t have possibly prepared himself enough for the heartbreaking image of you curled up on the couch, your arms wrapped around your stomach and your entire body shuddering from the lingering sniffles that came after your sobs. Your head slightly lifted at the sound of his entrance, both of your eyes bloodshot as they met from across the room. “I’m… I’m so sorry, angel…” He said softly as he made his way over to you, dropping down onto the floor beside you on the couch. You were surrounded with balled up tissues that had been used to cry into and wipe whatever tears clung to your cheeks. 
Seeing you from a distance had been heartbreaking, but now seeing you up close, the way your upper lip was raw and puffy from roughly wiping your nose, your hair dampened by the tears that fell into it, your eyes barely even able to open from how much you’ve cried… It was heart shattering, like the broken pieces that had been left over were now being stomped on and kicked around. “They d-don’t know… why… it h-happened…” You shakily said between shortened breaths, your lips chapped from your open mouthed breathing. “You… were s-so ex-excited… and… I’m s-sorry… Lix…” 
He quickly shushed you, his fingers quickly brushing away the loose strands of hair that clung to your forehead. “It’s not your fault… It’s not…” He cooed, leaning his forehead against yours as his hands moved down to cup your cheeks. “And I’m not going to leave you. I promise, I’m going to stay by your side no matter what…” It was a solid promise, one that he wasn’t going to break. If you wanted to stay on the couch the entire time, he’d stay seated on the floor beside you. If you wanted to lay in bed all day and be held by him, he’d do that if it meant that even the slightest bit of pain you were feeling right now would subside. 
This is why he’s here… It’s for you and solely for you, because even though the pain he’s feeling right now is bad, he can only imagine how much harder it was for you. You had been told the news while you were by yourself, you had to process those emotions on your own, and then you had to go back to the empty house and continue to process those emotions by yourself. You had been the one carrying the baby, and even if it was only for a short 3 months, you had already loved the baby. Felix had caught you on many occasions smiling to yourself as your hand absentmindedly circled over your stomach. Now it was empty, you were empty. He had left for tour, excitedly awaiting coming home and only having to wait 3 more months to meet his child, and now that child was just… gone. There was no family to look forward to, not any time soon, not anymore. Home is where his heart is, you are his heart, you had it entirely. He loved coming home usually… But right now, home is where hurt is, hurt and devastation and shattered dreams. 
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