Hiking Vacation With Boyfie Sukuna

Sweet Nothings [Santiago "Pope" Garcia]

Summary: It's never easy choosing between your feelings and your friendship. In other words, Santi has to decide if he wants the new guy in town to snatch you up or if a friendship will have to be ruined.

Pairing: Santiago Garcia x best friend!reader

Warnings: Angst, Best Friends to Lovers, Santi being an idiot, Benny being a little shit, touching, lots of yelling, Angst with a happy ending, mentions of Santi getting shot, one sided love not really

A/N: scraped endless drafts because I had to look at it from so many angles. 3rd Commission of the year thank you so so much🥳 so sorry it took me so long, had to deal with a lot of bullshit at school and the depression it brought me. I really do appreciate the support you guys bring❤️✨ this one is for Alex (please link your username because 1am here am I'm sleepy as fuck to try and find it at the moment)

He’s an idiot.

He wants a taste.

You’re murmuring a quick answer to Frankie’s question with your mouth full of a blueberry cupcake. Then you take a sip of some beverage Benny ordered. You hardly pay attention to whatever Ben and Frankie are bickering about, eyes too drawn to your book.

But Santi’s paying attention. To your mouth. To your lips. And he wants a taste. He’s an idiot who wants a taste.

“Santi, hermano, come on. Help me out here.” Frankie groans, exasperated while Benny’s mischievous grin flashes brightly.

“Hmm?” Santiago hates having to take his eyes off you. His thigh brushes yours under the table. It maddens the flutter of his heart. The only indication that you took notice was the brief glance in his direction and a tiny smile before your gaze returns to the words on your page.

No doubt whatever the little shit said only said it to grate in Frankie’s last nerve and it is working. And by extension, it’s getting on Santi’s last nerve because he hates it when Frankie starts complaining.

Before he even has the chance to tell them both to be quiet and eat their pancakes (mostly because he hadn’t been listening to a word they said), you chime in, without even looking up from your book, “He wants you to tell Ben that he’s an idiot for thinking that mint chocolate-flavoured stuff are better than caramel-flavoured stuff.”

Santiago raises an eyebrow. “Wait, you’ve been listening this whole time?”

He doesn’t understand how you can be drifting between two worlds. The real life and your book. Usually, you prefer the latter, especially when you’re out in public. Too often, he becomes jealous of the characters in your books. You pay far more attention to them than you do to him.

“It’s hard not to.” you mutter, taking another bite of your cupcake. “Not with that mind-numbing chatter.”

It’s hard not to laugh at your sardonic quip. He revels in these little moments. The tidbits of chaos in your eyes that spark from time to time. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means Benjamin has the inability to shut the hell up and enjoy a good meal on a quiet morning.” You put down your book with the most disgusted look on your face. “Also, mint chocolate? Really, Ben? I bet you like the taste of toothpaste in your coffee as well.”

“Oh, fuck off!” There was a chorus of laughter that sparked Ben’s scowl. “Leave my coffee out of this. It has nothing to do with anything.”

“Your coffee has everything to do with this.” you shoot back, nose wrinkling as you smile.

Frankie’s laughing harder with each second at the exchange. Benny crossed his arms, shrinking in his chair. “God, she sounds exactly like the jackass sitting next to her.”

Your gaze shifts to him, smiling. That knowing look as you let him in on your thoughts. He returns it with a grin.

He’s a moron.

I know, right?

The little moment that you both share as you peer into each other’s minds is one of many that will be cherished. Santiago shook his head, chuckling as he watched you roll your eyes and return to your book. To your own little world. You lean back on your chair, smiling.

There was nothing Santi loved more than watching you be at peace in your own little world. Hardly anything draws you out for too long. Not even him, but he doesn’t mind. As long as you’re happy there because this world doesn’t give much to live for, to dream for.

But you?

You’ve always given him something to dream about. 

“Hermano.” Frankie nudges (kicks) him under the table and Santi has half a mind to wring his neck from where he’s sitting. 

He’s got that shit-eating grin from where he sits, along with Ben. Will doesn’t smirk but simply gives him that look. Like he knows exactly what those two are thinking and he wholeheartedly agrees.

It’s not the first time they caught him staring. It certainly won’t be the last. Nor will it be the last time they’re going to give him shit once you’re out of the vicinity. Frankie gives him the hardest time because he has pried the most information out of him.

Pendejo–

“I said–” Will starts, and it takes a second for Santiago to realize that it was him who spoke. “Are you coming to the game tonight or are you preoccupied? Again?”

Preoccupied is code for ‘trying and failing to ask you out’. Emphasis on failing. Dismally, in fact. He’s blown them off so many times to spend nights at your place, just trying to get the words out.

But all that happens is that his hands start sweating while his heart rattles violently in its cage and he stares at the back of your head while you’re preparing the popcorn in the kitchen. Or he stares at you when you’re watching a movie. Or when you’ve fallen asleep on top of him. No words come out.

He can’t tell you. He just can’t. Because what if you say no? What if he loses you–

God, he doesn’t even want to fathom the thought. But he’s going to keep trying anyway. He doesn’t know how many nights he’s going to spend at your house just trying to ask or tell you how he feels

Before he can answer, someone calls your name.

Then your eyes glance up and–

Oh.

Oh, how they light up. And oh, how his stomach drops because who has the power to yank your head out of that book with such ease?

“Oh, hey, Jax.” You grin sweetly at the man who dared to walk over to the table, to all five of you.

Santiago has seen him before. He’s new in town. Moved a couple of months ago and he’s steadily been making himself acquainted with the locals.

The man is tall. Blond hair in a half bun, baby blues to match, and a jaw that could cut diamonds. He’s tall, built in all the ways that make the women giggle and whisper. He’s got a friendly face and attitude and it doesn’t help that he’s so… nice.

It doesn’t help that his attention seems to be focused on you.

“Fancy seeing you here.” Jax smiles before his eyes glance at Will, then Ben and Frankie. Then finally, they meet Santiago’s. The man gives a genuine nod, acknowledging all four of them. “Hello.”

And just like that, the boys are tense. On a razer’s edge and he seems to clock in on that. Good. Santiago wants him to know that he’s not welcome around here– around you. Frank and Will nod back, trying to be friendly, trying not to make a scene. But Santi stays as he is. Stiff as a board. Silent as a stone.

“Hey, man.” Ben plasters a bright smile, but it feels more like he’s baring his teeth. “How are you doin?”

But –heavens forbid– you’ve put the book down.

Santiago stares at it, failing to mask his shock for a brief moment before he masks it when you stand up. You introduce him to the boys. Pleasantries are exchanged but Santiago doesn’t say a word. He leans back on his chair, eyeing this man, Jax.

Those baby blues falter when they find the heat in the eyes of Santiago “Pope” Garcia. And he takes much pride in how he takes a step back, more out of self-preservation. He realizes that he’s looking at four hungry wolves, rather than men.

Only, you follow and go to stand farther away than all four of them would like. You and Jax talk like you’re old friends– buddies. Santi’s fist threatens to break the mug at how you touch this guy’s shoulder and offer a nod and he smiles right back, touching your elbow. Both of you just touching and something aches and burns and threatens to claw its way out of Santi’s chest to tear this man to pieces if he keeps doing that.

When the conversation looks like it’s coming to an end, Santi is jolted in his seat when Jax leans to kiss your cheek and you do the same, waving him goodbye with his two friends, who have their beverages in hand.

Santiago doesn’t want to plan yet another murder. 

But it is damn tempting.

“Want me to make pasta?”

He hums absentmindedly, drumming his fingers on his thigh. Eyes glare out the window as he waits for the traffic to move. It’s slow. Agonizing to be trapped in the car with you.

He still thinks back to the man at the cafe. Jax.

He hates how you were around that guy. He doesn’t think he’s seen you like that with him or anyone else. You don’t let them touch you like that. You don’t let guys kiss your cheek like that.

Santiago has had to bear watching you with previous boyfriends and even a fiance one time and it was one of the most agonising things he has ever gone through. During those days, when you were with someone, he always opted to go back to Columbia so he doesn’t have to be near you. Some days, he wished he would catch a bullet in his head there because it would hurt less.

You say something. He doesn’t hear. But he can’t seem to bring himself to ask you to repeat yourself. Instead, he gives a curt– “Yep.”

“Santi.” The cut of your voice makes him flinch and his gaze flicks to you. Your eyes are narrowed. Makes his hackles rise. “You just agreed to let me put olives in the salad.” 

He hates olives.

His expression twists in disgust. “No, I didn’t.”

“Yes, you did.” you counter.

“No, I didn’t.” He’s pretty sure he didn’t.

“No, but you should’ve been paying more attention to me.” You face forward on your seat, crossing your arms and slink one knee over another.

Your dress rides up a little, revealing more of your thigh and Santi thinks his blood might boil more because of that than the fact that you’re poking at him. He grits his teeth, facing forward too. His hands clasp the steering wheel tightly.

“What? You mean like how you pay attention to your new friend?”

He didn’t mean to let the words out. But he can’t stand the silence. Can’t stand to let you win this round. He feels a storm brewing and it is going to chew him up and spit him out if he’s not careful.

The lack of your response makes him realize he made a dumb move. He reveals his entire hand. Fucking idiot–

“So that’s what this is about?”

His mouth seals shut. Eyes fixed forward in a scowl that might burn a path through the cars in front so his can move. His teeth might shatter if he doesn’t loosen his jaw but he could care less. It would be easier to deal with than having to explain himself.

He doesn’t say anything. Neither do you. Not when the car moves. Not until he reaches your place and gets out of the car. It’s a torturous stalemate for now, but you hold the upper hand and you don’t realize yet.

You follow, slamming the door. “Santi, we were just talking. I don’t see what the big deal is.”

“C’mon, we both know what he was doing.” He’s in your house, beelining for the kitchen to open a cupboard. A bottle of tequila awaits him. He pours himself a cup.

You’re silent as he throws his head back, downing the shot. “Okay, what’s your problem?”

His nose flares, eyes shifting to meet yours. “My problem?”

“Yes, your problem.” you counter sharply, pointing a finger in his face. “You do this every time you see me talking to Jax–”

“No, I don’t!” 

“Yes, you do.”

He hates how your voice remains level while his reaches new heights. He does not understand how you remain calm when he feels like he’s boiling over. You’ve always been so annoyingly exceptional at pushing his buttons to the point where he almost can’t decide between two urges; to yell at you or kiss you.

He wants to choose the latter. Every time. And every time he has to choose the former.

Santiago wants to hurl the bottle of alcohol against the wall. But all he does is run a hand through his curls, letting out a frustrated groan. “God, you’re so blind sometimes! Not every guy who walks up to you has good intentions!”

“So?” you counter. “Why do you insist on acting like this?”

He rounds the counter, eager to get away from this fuming mess before it implodes on his face. But you’re just as eager to follow. 

“Like what?!” 

“Like you’re jealous, Santi!” you snap, finally raising your voice to match his. “You shut down every time you see me with a guy. And what’s worse is that you take off and head back to war because you can’t stand to see me happy!”

And something cracks within him as soon as that happens. He stops in his tracks immediately.

You don’t think for a second that he would whirl on you in a split second. But he does and the silent violent rage that comes with his close proximity frightens you. Even if the urge to kiss you threatens to burn him alive.

“Do you want to know what a jealous boyfriend looks like?” He takes a step towards you, and another. You don’t resign to his simmering rage, your expression remaining impassive, even as he backs you into the kitchen counter.

He wants to show you what a jealous boyfriend looks like. He wants to show you how much he hates not having your attention on him at all times.

There is nothing that can make him understand how or why he’s so drawn to you. He’s known Frankie longer than you. Benny and Will nearly just as long. They get on his nerves nonstop, but never to this extent.

Never to the point where he wanted to tear himself from the inside out at the thought of telling you how much he yearns to put his lips against yours, yet the mere thought of you turning away from him the minute he says it instantly seals his mouth shut.

He remains at that crossroads. He wonders if you’re there with him, trying to decide which path to take. Do you know that this time– this time he’s wading into dangerous territory? Do you know that he hopes it’ll lead him to you?

“You don’t see it, do you?” You don’t say anything. He chuckles dryly. “You don’t see how much it hurts when you’re with someone else–”

“How do you think I feel when the guys talk about your informants?” you harshly interject, eyes burning like dark flames. “You don’t think it hurts when they joke about how pretty they all are?”

Those fuckers. Why the fuck would they tell you that?

His shoulders draw in, ears burning with shame, even though he knows he’s done nothing wrong. He’s never slept with any of his informants. Yes, there is a pattern. His informants are women. Beautiful women. But he doesn’t sleep with them.

Not when he’s constantly thinking of you. This last job, getting rid of Lorea, all he could think about is getting that money so he can make a better man of himself. For you. All for you. That’s why he was so determined, so driven. Not by greed, as everyone thinks. But by love.

He did it because he loves you and he would do it all again if it meant it would give him the slightest chance.

He feels himself careening towards the point of no return. He takes a steady breath, eyes fluttering shut. “Do you know how much I wanted–”

But it’s like no matter how much he tries to choose his words carefully, they all lead him back to the definitive truth. The one truth he’s always tried to keep under heaps of soil, in the deepest grave he could dig.

It is unearthing and unbinding itself from every restraint, every chain and rope. Finding its way to you.

You wait for him to keep going. Only to be met with silence and it does not sit well with you.

He feels your hand graze his chin. The soft caress sends him spiralling further and further away from his sanity. “Wanted what?”

How many times has he let you touch him like this –like you weren’t his best friend? Too often, that line is blurred and the singular question of “what are we?” hangs in the balance. Taunting him every time his knee brushes yours under a table. Haunting him with your scent when you stand too close.

When his eyes flutter open, he falls right into the deep end. Whatever restraint he’s been clinging to all this time, it snaps as easily as a twig.

He inches forward, pushing against you, pushing past that line, pressing his lips against yours.

His hands grasp your arms, pulling you closer. He couldn’t bear it if you decide to draw away when he’s just getting the taste of you for the first time, and maybe the last. But you don’t. You don’t move away, you don’t push him away.

He takes another kiss. Then another. He can’t get enough. Years of orbiting around you and he realizes how starved he is after only having you in small doses. Each kiss feels like an overdose. It feels like it will kill him, but he doesn’t care. He wants more.

“You.” he rasps sharply against your mouth. “Wanted you.” You don’t stop his hands from cupping the back of your neck, angling your head as he quickly amends, “Want you.”

A weak moan escapes you as he touches you, a sound that melts right through his ache. He brings you closer, letting you sigh into his mouth, your hands slipping through the curls of his hair, wondering how he could’ve gone without this for years.

“Oh, Santi…” you peck his lips as he does to yours, nudging your nose against his. “You’re such a fucking idiot.”

But you’re giggling. You’re laughing and it makes him weak at the knees and when you draw him close, closer until your lips meet his again–

It’s like he’s learned a new meaning to breathing again.

He starts to laugh a little too, at the ridiculousness of it all. The record number of years he has gone without telling you how he felt seemed silly now. He was worried over nothing.

“For the record…” you murmur into his mouth, grinning. “Jax is gay.”

Jax.

Tall blond, baby blue-eyed, who’s got the women giggling and whispering Jax.

Santiago is momentarily stunned by the revelation. It doesn’t correlate. He thought that… No, because Jax was all over you. Constantly talking to you every chance he got. Touching your shoulders, your arms. Smiling sweetly as he speaks. Kissing your cheek to say goodbye. It never occurred to him that Jax might just be friendly. That he might not be attracted to you.

He groans, frustrated more at himself than anything. “Oh, for fuck’s sake–”

You’re laughing when you kiss him once more, wrapping your arms around his neck while he’s muttering curses in his native tongue. Yet he smiles as he walks forward. His mouth slinks against yours while you walk back against his steps until your knees hit the couch and you both fall back.

You’re still laughing, half moaning as he draws the zipper of your hoodie open to plant kisses along your neck, your shoulders as he mutters “tu puta madre– idiota–”

You’re still laughing because you’re overjoyed. Filled with such warmth because finally–

“Pendejo–” he’s still murmuring curses into your mouth, though they’re more directed to himself for being plain stupid.

Finally, he has you in his arms the way he wants. Finally, the boys are really going to dig into him for saying something.

“No way he’s gay.” he whines, pulling his head back to look at you with a stern expression. “Did he tell you that?”

“He’s been checking you and Frankie out since he got here.” you explain, smiling and shaking your head. “Wanted to know if either one of you is available.”

Santiago clicks his tongue, cheeks heating heavily as he shakes his head. “Get outta here.”

He feels stupid. Blinded by jealousy. Throwing tantrums like a petulant child over nothing. He should’ve come clean a long time ago. 

When his mouth meets yours, he comes to one final conclusion.

He really is an idiot.

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Masterlist

🕷️ hehe

not to be toxic but i knew hozier’s new song was going to be some kind of political statement and not the horny interpretation that people made thirst traps to on tiktok. i was waiting all week to feel vindicated.

out of sight, out of mind

poe dameron x reader

this fic is the prequel to better safe than sorry. therefore it doesn't really matter if you haven't read it because it's a PREquel, but then you know what to read next :)

summary: saying that you're terrified at the idea of losing someone you love again is an understatement. poe dameron happens to be the most reckless person you know.

warnings: reader has trauma and ptsd, mentions of death, angst (I mean, a lot), mentions of injuries, mentions of sex, alcohol consumption

tags: f!reader, absolute idiots in love, friends to lovers, poe is in love, reader makes questionable choices but she has trauma okay, poe is so very sweet in this and it has me screaming, fluff, hurt/comfort

word count: 7.1k (personal record for a one shot, wow)

huge thanks to @eatingyouryoung for beta reading and for motivating me, supporting me and most of all bearing with me and the multiple mental breakdowns I had while writing this. love you bestie, thank you, really. <3

masterlist | taglist | ao3

There are moments where it’s only those memories, only those flashbacks clouding your mind and filling up the space for any other thoughts in your head. It eats everything else and doesn’t leave room to breathe, it engulfs everything on its way.

It is impressive how just a few minutes can determine the rest of your life, it is impressive how fast it can eat up everything else that matters.

It can play in your head over and over again when it wants to, like somebody’s favorite holo movie, rewatched when you should be asleep after a long and tiring day, and sometimes you get flashes of it during the day, even if you’re busy and should not be thinking about something other than what you’re currently doing, as if the images where screaming at you that hey, they existed.

You knew all too well that they existed, and for some obscure reason, you didn’t want to forget them. 

You should want them to fade away, to disappear completely, to vanish into oblivion until nothing is left of that day, but something inside of you sticks there, holds onto those few minutes and doesn’t want to let go. 

You don’t want the images to shatter into pieces, you don’t want it to be pooling at your feet like something you know you’re never going to be able to put back together. You don’t want to let go of it, you don’t want to let go of your last memory of her.

These moments aren’t present really often, at least not as much as before, but when they are they’re omnipresent and always remind you of how afraid you are at even just the thought of losing someone again.

Right now is one of those moments, the images play in the back of your mind again, it has become a regular occurrence for them to manifest themselves at the least convenient moments. Maybe Jess was right, maybe you should go see a professional so they could help you manage the manifestation of those memories.

The only thing faintly keeping you connected to reality is Poe’s voice mixing with the scene inside your head as you watch him speak, and even though it’s muffled and his words are barely distinguishable, it’s your only anchor, and you know that if you focus hard enough, it will bring you right back where you are, in the briefing room where he’s explaining everything concerning how the previous mission went and how things could have gone easier for everyone, tactically speaking. 

You do and it works, and you’re back just in time to catch Poe’s gaze sticking to yours, a small wink directed your way drawing a wide and foolish smile from you before he looks away, leaving a heat creeping up your cheeks. 

You’re barely able to focus for the rest of the meeting because of that simple thing, making it so you haven’t listened to any of it at all. 

He dismisses everyone, chatter filling the room before it emigrates out of it, and you wait for him to be done talking with someone and he joins you.

“Hey” he smiles, walking out the room beside you, his arm wrapping around you, his hand resting on your shoulder. “You okay?” he asks as he tilts his head to take a look at your face.

You hum positively, or you hope it sounds positive, and you look up at him with a small smile to prove your point. “Just tired” you shrug.

His lips pinch in a compassionate smile, and his hand shifts from your shoulder to bury into your hair. 

"Wanna come over tonight?" he asks cocking an eyebrow. "Just you, me, a bottle and my quarters"

"Is it really that obvious that I'm not feeling well?" you ask stopping in your steps with a small sigh, looking up at him.

He snorts, shrugging. "Obvious I don’t know, but I know you better than yourself" he chuckles, his hand shifting to your arm so he can squeeze you against himself. "So is that a yes?"

"It sure is" you smile, and he mirrors it before leaving a kiss at the top of your head.

—

Your eyes are watery from the alcohol, and you can feel the dizziness starting to manifest itself as you can see that your vision is slowly starting to delay like a screen's bad frame rate.  

"So" Poe starts, taking the bottle from your hands. "Do you wanna talk about it?" he asks finally coming to the subject you've been thoroughly avoiding before, taking care of telling him about your day. 

He brings the bottle to his mouth, frowning at the small shrug you offer him in response. He swallows the liquid as he raises his chin at you, handing you back the bottle. “It’s fine if you don’t, but you know that I’m always here if you need someone to lis–”

“It’s her death. The memories of it”

“Oh” his eyes soften, and he shifts closer to you, still sitting crossed legged on his bed.

“They’re less and less frequent, but when they resurface it’s all there is” you pinch your lips, a single nod showing that you’re accepting your fate despite how cruel it is. "And it's still so vivid, I still remember it like it was yesterday. Everyone loses people they love in this war, and it's almost been two years and yet I can't move on" you chuckle before drinking from the bottle, wincing at the strong taste of the drink. “I feel ridiculous”

"No one does" he nods, raising his eyebrows in a reassuring way. "No one moves on" he declares, taking the bottle from you when you hand it over. "You learn to live with it, but you never really move on." He watches as you chew on your bottom lip, looking down at your lap. “And this is not ridiculous at all.” he tilts his head to emphasize, putting the bottle down on his nightstand.

His hand reaches for yours, and you let him hold it. It feels warm, and his touch feels comforting, and you can feel your heart beat faster when he starts running his thumb back and forth on the back of your hand. “My mom died when I was eight, I’m a grown man and I haven’t moved on and I never will. I just had to learn to live with it.” You look up at him with compassion, but you also feel worried at the thought that it’s probably going to be a long, long way before you can recover from this experience and everything else it involves.

“But the fact that you lived and saw it makes it even harder, and you shouldn’t blame yourself for feeling stuck.”

You closed your eyes, pinching the bridge of your nose maybe a bit too hard, as if you were trying to squeeze the images out of you. 

"I watched her die in front of me, she was right before my eyes and I had to leave her there" the words leave your mouth in a hurried and panicked, trembling plea, throat burning with the tight knot that only seems to get bigger inside as your words remind you of the moment in question, just as if you were there again, anxiety starting to loom menacingly over you again.

A soft exhale leaves Poe’s mouth as his expression turns into one of helplessness, and he gently pulls your body to his so you both lay down on the bed as he holds you close to him, your back pressed against his chest, his arms wrapped around you. 

"I know baby, I know" he whispers, pressing gentle kisses to your hairline, trying to ease your trembling and labored breaths.

You’re not crying, you can’t, you feel so full yet so empty.

—

The ringing, high pitched sound in your ears doesn’t help your current state of tiredness and the growing migraine slowly but surely beginning to anchor into your head, and you can soon feel a throbbing pain hammering into your skull.

It’s fairly late and everyone on base is back to their quarters and for the most fast asleep, save for the ones like you still focused on work. You should get some sleep, you need it, you crave it, but you refuse to leave the empty room before you're done filling your report, wrapping up the paperwork session you've been at for two hours now.

You almost drop your datapad at the sudden feeling of hands over your shoulders, a shuddery gasp slipping from your mouth. It wakes you up a little, your current fatigue making the effect of surprise even more intense, your heart thrumming into your ribcage and reverberating inside your whole body.

The momentary panic fades away when Poe walks around to the desk in front of yours, revealing that it's only him as your eyes follow him as you're trying to catch your breath, a relieved smile growing upon your face. You haven’t seen him since yesterday, both of you drowning under a crushing pile of work. You feel awful when you remember the state you were in, but you also remember that it’s Poe so he doesn’t mind and above all, he’s not one to judge.

"Sorry sweetheart, didn’t mean to scare you" his lips quirk in a soft smile as both of his hands grasp onto the back of the chair in front of you.

"S'okay, I just didn't expect any visit this late. Why aren't you sleeping?" you ask as you put the datapad down on the desk, looking up at him as you sink back into your chair, crossing your arms. 

“Why aren’t you” he asks as he cocks an eyebrow, almost as if accusing you of the same crime.

You sigh as you raise your eyebrows, taking a hold of the tablet you put down not too long ago. “Well Leia will kick my ass if I don’t fill out all of this, and she kinda scares me when she gets mad, so I’m stuck here until I’m done with paperwork”

“I don’t blame you for that” he snorts. "Need some company?" he asks as he pulls the chair from under the desk.

"I'm almost done but sure" you declare, pointing your hand towards his chair to offer him to stay with you.

He sits down, a slight clinking sound resonating through the empty room when he puts his feet up on the desk. 

You dive back into work, and he would have so many things to tell you about his day but he knows that you're desperate to finish what you're doing so he instead just looks at you, drinking in any movement of yours, even the littlest, admiring the way you look when you're focused, smiling at the way you bite down onto your lip in concentration all while he absent-mindedly fiddles with the ring attached to the chain around his neck.

It doesn’t take too long for you to finish your work and for Poe to escort you back to your quarters, finally getting to tell you about his day while on the way. 

You’re disappointed when you see you’re already there, and if you weren’t so tired you would have invited him inside so you could keep chatting. 

“You still haven’t answered my question” you say as you stop in front of your door, turning on your feet so you could face him, stopping him in the middle of his story about BB-8’s checkup.

“What question?” he frowns, a confused expression taking over his face, lowkey nervous that he forgot about something important.

“Why you’re not asleep.”

“Oh. I was revising details for tomorrow’s last minute mission" he nods as he crosses his arms, leaning his side against the wall.

“Last minute mission?” you repeat, your eyebrows slightly rising in curiosity.

He nods as he pinches his lips. “I’m leaving for a few days. Our contact found something interesting about the First Order, and I have to see this with my own eyes” 

“Be careful” you nod once, the inner corner of your eyebrows angling up in worry, and he can see in your eyes that you’re pleading him. He’s not the most cautious recruit on base, far from that, but he knows what’s good for his cause, even if he sometimes has to pay the price, but you also happen to be more important than his constant desire for recklessness. 

“I will, promised. Goodnight sweetheart.” he smiles softly as he stands in front of you.

“Goodnight Poe.” He turns to his feet, ready to leave, but you grab onto his wrist before he can. He turns to you, eyebrows raised, awaiting anything from you. “Thank you for yesterday. I really needed someone to talk to.” you nod, with a tired but genuine smile.

He smiles back at you, the corner of his eyes crinkling softly.

He leaves a quick kiss at your cheek before leaving, and you wait for him to be out of sight to finally go inside your quarters, and you can’t tell if the sigh leaving your mouth is one of longing or relief.

—

You’re sprinting through the base hallways, and even though it’s really not an uncommon thing to do there, you feel stupid for being in such a rush hoping that he isn’t gone yet. 

Once you arrive in the hangar, catching your breath, it is flooded with orange jumpsuits, making it hard to recognize anyone if they’re not directly facing you, but you just happen to spot the little droid that indicates that Poe’s not far away.

Poe’s eyes light up when you approach and he realizes you’re here to say goodbye, and you shake your head as you walk up to him, almost sprinting once you’re close.

“You do anything risky, I’ll kill you” you threaten as you throw yourself into his arms, the end of your sentence muffled against him.

“Okay. Where's my goodbye kiss?” he asks as he lets his hand rest at the back of your head, and he smirks when he hears your muffled chuckle.

“if you come back without a single scratch,” you start, pulling away from the embrace, looking back at him. “You’ll have a welcome home kiss.” 

His right eyebrow rises in interest, and a sly smirk grows over his face. 

“Now that’s an interesting deal.”

You point a finger to his chest, the tip pressing against it, your head slightly tilting to the side, looking right into his eyes.

“Not.” you push your finger deeper. “A.” deeper again, and—

“–Scratch, yes.” he completes your sentence, taking a hold of your hand, closing it into a fist and pressing it against his chest.

“That’s right. I’ll check” you tease, your other pointer finger pressuring him.

He snorts, “I’d love to show you every single part of my–” his voice quietens as he suddenly looks down at his feet, at the circular droid nudging him. “Yeah buddy” he looks back up at you. “I should get going”

“Alright. Goodbye handsome, be careful” you smile, and he bites down on his lip as he lets go of your hand before starting to walk backwards. 

“You gave me a reason to be, I will be” he shouts from a distance, pointing back at you as he walks away, towards his ship. 

—

The few days he had announced to be the time where he would be gone transformed into a whole week, and though you were busy every night either with work or with friends, you couldn’t help but wonder what he was doing at random moments of the evening. 

Thankfully feedback from coms said that everyone was okay and that the mission was going exactly as planned, so your state of worry was greatly diminished.

You still couldn’t stop thinking about him and you hated yourself for being so attached to Poe Dameron, but at the same time how could you not when he acted the way he did around you.

You were walking around base with friends when you heard word from a passing group of people that Poe’s squadron had gotten back from their mission, and even though it was getting late and you could wait see him the next day or whenever you would run into him next, the curiosity and apprehension to find out whether he had gotten injured or not took over you.

You apologized to your friends for having to leave them, and hurriedly made your way through the base to join the hangar.

Once you arrive there the scene in front of you is pretty much the same as when you joined Poe before he left; a sea of orange figures, ships on the ground, metallic sounds and indistinct chatter filling the room. 

Poe sees you before you see him and rushes towards you, a sly smirk over his face as he sprints across the hangar, and the moment you finally see him is the exact same moment you want to warn him about the ship wing that’s about to– 

It hits his head with a loud thud.

A yelp that quickly transforms into a groan escapes his mouth, both of his hands covering and pushing against the area of impact as he momentarily curls up on himself in place because of the sudden pain. 

Your mouth is gaping in shock before you sprint to join him.

“Fuck are you okay?” you ask hastily, a nervous chuckle leaving your mouth as your hand rests at his back while his eyes are shut tight, his hand grabbing onto your arm.

“Yeah I’m okay, I’m okay” he nods, his other hand still clinging onto his forehead. He sighs a curse word under his breath, shaking his head as he frowns before he snorts.

“I was uninjured before this.” he chuckles as he looks at you, a skeptic smile over his face. “Not a scratch”

“Mh? Well that’s too bad.” you tease, putting your hand over his shoulder. “Come on, medbay.”

“No no that’s fine I’m o–” 

“Nuh uh I don’t wanna hear it, we’re going to medbay” you insist, pulling onto his arm, raising your eyebrows and tilting your head towards the direction of interest.

Poe reluctantly goes to medbay with you, the medics check him up rather quickly, and everything turns out to be okay; you only have to stay there sitting face to face to hold a cold pad to his forehead to prevent a bump from appearing.

“So, how’d the mission go?”

“Great. Couldn’t have been better. Got into some ambushes but we crushed them” he smiles. “And not a scratch, nothing” he nods proudly.

“See, you can make efforts when you’re interested in the promised outcome” you chuckle, shifting in place so you could get a better position to hold the pad over his forehead. 

He winces, “S’cold as fuck”

“That’s the point” you huff out a laugh, and he smacks your thigh playfully in response.

“So” he starts, clearing his throat and shifting in his seat. “Can I get my price?” he asks, a sly smirk growing over his face.

“...I don’t know” you hum, a fake skeptic expression over your face. It’s hard to refrain from smiling when you see his semi-pouty face, “You technically didn’t respect the conditions.”

“What? It shouldn’t count!” he starts bargaining like a child that has been wrongly accused for something their sibling did, and you huff out a small laugh seeing how he reacts to you simply teasing him.

“I mean, you got hurt” you shrug.

“The mission was over”

“I told you to come back uninjured, mission or not, or else what's the point”

“Fair enough, but you didn’t specify beforehand”

“Well, now you know” you say, a small exhale leaving your mouth when you get up from your seat, and Poe doesn’t waste any second to follow you, tossing the cold pad onto the nearest surface.

“Alright, okay, but now I want a second chance at this so it’s fair game” he bargains, following you closely when you exit the medbay.

"Alright, alright" you agree as you turn back to him. "Come on now, you need to rest" you turn to your feet again, towards the hallway extending before you.

He remains standing in place when you start walking again, just looking at you and pondering. It takes him a few seconds before he catches up and joins you again, walking by your side.

The both of you are silent for most of the walk to Poe's quarters; it's pretty uncommon for Poe to remain quiet for more than thirty seconds, and it has you thinking.

"You really want your kiss, huh?" you ask rhetorically, stopping in your steps and turning to him once you're in front of his door.

He pauses, and takes a look at you before answering. "Of course I do" he chuckles, and you nod as your teeth sink into your bottom lip.

Poe barely has time to process you getting substantially closer to him before you grab the collar of his flight suit and put your lips over his, gently pushing him against the wall. 

The quarter of second it takes for him to fully be aware of what's happening leaves him sighing against your mouth, and once he's sure that it’s all real, his hand cradles the back of your head, pulling you even closer. 

His other hand rests at your hip, your own hands leaving his collar and resting at the back of his neck, and low hum vibrating against your mouth when your fingers bury into his short curls there.

You pull away just for a second before he yanks you towards him, kissing you back with even more vigor.

His lips are warm and pressed tight against yours, the heat of his body feeling omnipresent even though you're the one caging him.

You smile at the sight of the starstruck expression left over his face when you pull away, and your heart sinks at the way his warm eyes look at you. 

“I was messing with you, I always keep my promises” you tease with a grin as you start to back away, your hands behind your back, giving him space again.

“Admit it, you didn’t want to be kind to me, you just wanted to do it” he smirks, a teasing tone in his voice before he bites down onto his bottom lip. “You wanted to kiss me”

You smirk back at him, shrugging before turning onto your feet and leaving for good, retracing your steps.

Poe stares at you leaving until you're out of sight, and he can't help but smile to himself when he enters the code to his quarters, still not fully believing what just happened.

You, you should feel overjoyed, but you can’t help but acknowledge that bittersweet feeling starting to get to you as you’re walking back to your quarters and being faced with reality again, your mind starting to overfill with too many thoughts; you’re getting too attached. 

—

You toss and turn in your bed, and all you’re able to do instead of sleeping is hating yourself for kissing Poe, for certainly making him feel like this meant that you were ready to give him what he had been wanting from you for so long.

You do have feelings for him, and that’s where the problem is; you can not love anyone, and certainly not someone as reckless and impulsive as him, not someone you could lose technically so easily. 

You can’t go through this again, you know you wouldn’t be able to carry the weight of his loss.

Maybe it’s selfish, maybe you’re making the biggest mistake of your life – no; you’re sure of that – but you’re also sure that you wouldn't be able to handle enduring this again; the simple thought crushes you.

You toss and turn in your bed, and while Poe is certainly delighted of what happened, you hate that you’re going to have to distance yourself from him because you fucked everything up.

—

It has been a week since you and Poe had kissed, and it seemed like you were thoroughly trying to avoid him ever since, hurrying out of the room after every briefing, taking advantage of the crowd and of the people wanting to talk details with the commander. 

You happened to never eat at the same time as him anymore, and you were nowhere to be found when he looked for you in places he knew you would usually be.

Poe was left confused, and even though he had a lot of work and technically other things to think about, the fact that he couldn’t catch you to talk even just for five minutes was bothering him and leaving him wondering if he had done something wrong, especially with what happened last time.

He had thought this kiss would change things between you, would lead you somewhere and that he would finally get what he had wanted for ages; you.

He knew it was no coincidence that you wouldn't stop ignoring his presence, that you wouldn't maintain eye contact through the briefing room for more than two seconds; that you wouldn’t run into him anymore; he knew he had been just a fool, too stupid to think that this could lead him somewhere, lead the both of you somewhere, that you would feel the same way he felt for you.

—

You took it as a sign that your friends had understood something was wrong when they practically dragged you to go get some drinks, and while you weren’t particularly in the mood to do that, you had to admit that you needed some distraction.

You needed to be busy in order to avoid thinking too much, to avoid getting too deep into your own head, because you knew that if you did you would break.

And the distraction technique actually works; you’re having a good time, chatting and laughing, forgetting about everything else going on besides that, and it feels really good, the illusion feels good.

There comes a time when you start to feel the drinks you’ve downed, the slight drunkenness starting to manifest itself as well as your need to pee.

You're still in a pretty good shape, drinkingly speaking; you're not fully drunk yet, just tipsy – the feeling is still pleasant, and you just have to stop for a second to maintain balance on your feet when you get up from your seat to join the cantina's bathroom.

The room is empty when you go and lock yourself into a stall, and the muffled music gets clearer when a group of people enter the room seconds later, their loud and high pitched laughs almost fully covering the sound of the loud music before it gets muffled again.

“So” one of the girls starts as she recovers from her laugh, “How’d last night end?” she asks, and the question elicits curious gasps from the other girls of the group.

“Yeah, we didn’t see you after you left the room with Commander Dameron” another girl teases, putting emphasis on the rank and last name, and your eyes widen at the sound of that.

Well. Try to forget about something and it’s shoved into your face right back away.

This catches your interest nonetheless, and you make sure to wait a little before you wipe yourself, not wanting to miss a beat of the conversation.

"Well," another girl starts, the girl who you assume is the girl who left the room with Commander Dameron. 

"We were both drunk and it was sloppy but damn is he good at it” she declares proudly, a fit of giggles filling the room.

Oh.

She's talking about something else, right? 

This can't possibly be, right?

Right?

"No way you slept with a commander, Jana. This is like a special success, something to check off a list" one of them chuckles.

"Sure did." Jana replies, and this is cliché and a bit not-feminist but you can just imagine her putting another layer of gloss on her lips.

Fuck.

It's with a half lie about not feeling well that you leave your friends and go home to your quarters, trying to repress the tight knot in your throat when you don’t even bother to change into your sleeping clothes and curl up into your bed.

—

The next briefings after that are awkward and feel delicate, and even though they already were before, you now can not look at Poe without internally wanting to scream and break something.

You hurry out the room faster than before if it’s even possible, and you need to be constantly distracted and busy with something in order not to think about him and all of your current situation with him.

You make your way out of the seemingly way-too-busy room once more, apologizing as you slalom through the crowd of people, an exhale of relief escaping once you get some relatively fresh air in the hallway.

“Hey” your heart jumps when you recognize Poe’s voice as he grabs your arm, and you sigh softly when you’re forced to turn to him. He must have disregarded everyone’s questions to exit the briefing room that quickly. “Why won’t you talk to me? Why do you barely even look at me?” he asks, and his voice slightly cracks at the middle of his sentence. He’s not fully scolding you, he genuinely wants answers.

A soft exhale leaves your mouth, and you can feel and hear your heart starting to beat fast in your ears.

“Did you sleep with Jana?”

The question is dropped like a bomb, and you know it’s going to have the effect of a bomb no matter what happens – it’s going to destroy everything, but at this point there isn’t really anything left to lose, nothing left to save either, it’s all doomed.

You already know the answer, you already know he’s going to respond positively because he’s an honest man and definitely not a liar; it’s something you have always appreciated in him.

“I–” he is speechless, and his mouth is gaping, trying to come up with anything to say though he knows damn well what he has to say if he wants to be honest with you, even if it’s going to ruin everything, until– “Yes.”

You expected it, and yet it still hurts. 

You had secretly hoped that the girl in the cantina bathroom had made that lie up to impress her friends, and you deep down knew she hadn’t, but you somehow buried yourself deep into denial, thinking that hoping otherwise would somehow manifest the truth to be different.

“I can’t wait for you forever. I don’t want to.” 

Immediately and like a reflex your eyes close, your lips pinch and you nod, trying to ignore the sick feeling bubbling inside your chest though it’s impossible. 

It hurts, everything hurts, nothing will ever be the same with him and it’s entirely your fault, you brought it upon yourself.

He’s not yours after all, and you made sure of that, so you shouldn’t be upset, you shouldn’t feel your heart sink. It’s not legitimate.

“You know that’s not what I meant” he starts again, the inner corner of his eyebrows angling up in compassion when he sees your reaction. “I could wait for you forever.” he nods, a bittersweet smile over his face. “But you’re making me feel like a fool. I don’t want to feel like a fool forever” he nods one last time as his lips pinch to repress something, and you can see his eyes glistening a bit, and your heart aches at the sight.

You bite down on your lip trying to contain your frustration, or your growing state of misery; you’re not sure, and all you’re able to reply is just–

“Okay.”

It’s bland, cold and dry, but it’s truly all that can come out.

You don’t have the heart to bargain and beg for your cause, and it would feel unfair and dishonest for him anyways.

“I’m sorry” Poe immediately says, and you feel bad that he is the one to be sorry, that he feels like he is the bad guy in that whole story when all of this is entirely your fault.

“No, no, I am. I get it” you try to reassure him, forcing a small smile out of you, still trying to make it seem like you’re doing fine, though you know there’s no use trying to when he knows you so well. 

You can’t stay here any longer or you will break, and you don’t have anything left to say anyways, not when you know it probably has to end that way.

You leave as fast as you left the briefing room earlier, and Poe feels sick when he watches you go, feels the need to puke when his head somehow fills with every memory you’ve ever made with him.

You’re glad your back is facing him when you have to frantically wipe away the single tear rolling down your cheek.

—

It feels strange not having Poe in your life anymore, at least not properly; and it's probably worse that way, the fact that he's still around and that you're still often being confronted to each other, forced to pretend not to care about each other.

It hurts that he's now back to being "just" a commander to you, a colleague, that you're both back to being basically strangers, that the eye contacts don't linger anymore and just leave a bitter feeling lodged inside your chest when they used to leave butterflies in your stomach.

Your heart aches every time you catch a glimpse of him, and it’s hard trying to stay focused when you work around him, go on missions with him. 

You feel terrible for what you’ve done to him, you feel sick that he feels like he's been played with when all you wanted to do was protect yourself, you feel bad that he has to be collateral damage. 

You truly hope he doesn’t hate you, and you think that this might be your biggest fear.

That the only man that has ever truly believed in you, that the man that you love could hate you, even if he has all the reasons in the world to and you wouldn’t blame him if he did. 

Now is not the time to think about it, because you've been assigned and sent on a mission with him, and you're kinda thankful it's not the kind of mission that only requires two people and you just happen to be paired with him – you're thankful people are with you for this one.

It should be an easy mission, you just have to get something back.

A smuggler had stolen something that was supposed to get sent to the Resistance, but the guy happened to be tougher and more skilled than expected, and the logical solution to get back up on this was to get the Resistance itself.

You’re making your way through a quiet alley bathed in darkness, following the target from a distance, observing each of his movements to calculate how you could get an opening so you could get to him and steal – no, get back what’s yours.

Your group has split up, everyone trying to join the guy from different points and accesses across the area. 

If all goes well you can surround him in case you don’t have the opportunity to attack before, and technically he shouldn’t be able to get away, at least not until you have taken back what he has stolen.

You're doing pretty good so far, the guy hasn’t noticed he is being followed, so you have been able to gradually get closer and you're so close to being able to attack and if you could just shoot him in the leg and get back what's yours–

You're suddenly and abruptly yanked out from the main alley, and even before you can react at what’s happening and scream in surprise and fear, a hand pushes over and blocks your mouth, the other hand wrapping tight around your waist, your back pressed flush against your assailant's chest as their own back rests against the wall of the small, secluded alley you’ve been pulled in.

Your eyes look around in fear, your head unable to move, blocked by the strong hand covering your mouth; you want to scream, trying to wriggle out of whoever's grasp you're trapped in, panic starting to creep up your chest, until–

"Calm down, don't panic, it's only me." the soft and gentle whisper of Poe's voice in your ear makes you relax in his grasp, waves of relief washing over you. "He knows that we're following him, he was waiting for you to get closer to trap you" he explains, and you start to loosen up when his hand leaves your mouth and he lets go of you. “Sorry I scared you”

“Thank you” you nod as you face him, your hands resting over your knees as you catch your breath from the sudden rush of fear and adrenaline.

Your eyes widen and you look back at Poe when you hear a fight starting not so far away from where you are, shouts and sounds of blasters firing.

“I’ll go” he declares, hastily taking off his jacket. “Stay there and keep this for me, will you? You were shivering while I was holding you” he smirks teasingly, throwing you his leather jacket.

You chuckle as you catch and look down at the piece of cloth, and he waits for you to put it on to shoot you a smile before leaving, not even giving you time to beg him to be careful and not do anything stupid.

At least you’re now certain that he most definitely does not hate you.

—

Poe is sitting in the grass on a hill not so far away from base, looking up at the starry sky, just enjoying the fresh air of D'Qar. It feels nice after the particularly busy and tiring day he just had, his muscles still sore and tense from the mission, especially the muscles joining his neck and shoulders. 

“Hey” the sudden sound of your voice tears him out of his thoughts, and he even thinks he hallucinated it before he turns to you.

“Hey” he pinches a smile as he looks up at you.

“I wanted to give you your jacket back” you say as you look down at the jacket you’re currently wearing, and you must admit that you’re a bit reluctant at the idea of having to give it back – it smells just like him, a mix of his natural comforting scent and his aftershave, and it feels like the closest you’ve ever been to him in your life.

“Oh. No need to, you can keep it, you look good in it” he smiles wide, and you scoff softly.

"Alright. Can I?” you ask, referring to sitting down next to him.

“Hm? Sure” he nods, patting on the grass. You sit down next to him and watch him as he looks in front of him, admiring the view extending before him. The sky is pretty, the stars are especially bright tonight.

"Thank you again for earlier. And… I'm sorry for even earlier" you say, and his gaze drops down to his lap. "I'm sorry I was being an asshole and I made you feel like an idiot just because I don't know how to deal with my emotions." He looks back up in front of him, and you're scared when he doesn’t say anything and just stares ahead, his teeth sinking into his bottom lip. "Can you forgive me?"

His face turns to you, and he nods, a pinched, awkward smile over his face. "Of course. Of course I can"

You can't help a relieved smile from forming over your face, and you look at the stars for a moment before looking back at him. He looks almost heavenly, bathed in the stars' light.

“You know I love you, right? Poe, please tell me you do.” you ask, almost beg, still scared that he could believe the opposite. 

"I do. I know it" he nods softly, looking at you. He pauses before continuing, as if he was thinking of the right words to say. "But I don't want you to feel forced to be with me if you're not ready yet" he continues, and his hand rests over your thigh as he looks at you sternly, wanting to show you that he means it.

Your heart sinks at how considerate he is, even after how you've been treating him, but you're not even surprised; he's the kindest, most gentle man you've ever met, you have always known this.

"I can wait for you, and I will, I'm not going anywhere." he looks down at your thigh when your hand covers his, and he looks back up at you. "I mean it."

It shouldn't have the effect it has, because you've never wanted him as much as you do now, but you have been wanting him for long anyways so it doesn't really change anything. 

“I’m terrified of losing you.” you mutter under your breath, saying this as if you were justifying yourself though you know you don’t have to.

“And why would you lose me?” he asks, almost sure it's a rhetorical question, his hand moving so it could grab yours. His fingers intertwine with yours and the gesture makes a chill run down your spine, you're sure it's not the fresh breeze of the night.

“You’re the most impulsive and reckless person I’ve ever met, Poe. That might simultaneously be your biggest blessing and flaw” you smile softly.

He scoffs. “But I’m also the best pilot in the Resistance, so…” he tries to reassure you with a fake sly smirk, for once, holding tighter onto your hand. “Trust me, will you? I know it’s hard for you, I know what you’ve gone through and I know what you're scared of but I promise you that we’ll be okay.” he nods, and you happen to believe him, he is able to do that.

"You don't have to wait for me, then" you declare, your head resting over his shoulder. He smiles as he wraps an arm around your shoulders, leaving a kiss at the top of your head before his rests over yours.

You will love him anyways, you will be terrified anyways, and if you have to live with the fear that everything could stop suddenly, you would rather do it by his side.

if this flops and if I get no feedback on this I will scream, cry, break something and consider retiring from writing so if you've read all of this please give me feedback or a comment or a reblog I'm literally begging you on my knees........

—

masterlist | taglist | ao3

star wars masterlist: @apollo-enthusiast @lockleysgrl @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @alexxavicry @mystinky-butt @anightshift @whatthefishh @dameronshandholder @campingwiththecharmings @mintgreen24 @dameronshandholder @spider-starry @jakecockley @cocodiem @spxctorsslxt @friedwings @luxisluxurious

season 2 spell like to charge reblog to cast

May Calamawy as Layla El-Faouly Moon Knight | 2022

aren't they giving off the same vibe lmao

@eatingyouryoung gagged

YOU SLEEP IN THE GUEST BEDROOM AFTER AN ARGUMENT — JUJUTSU KAISEN

feat : gojo satoru, itadori yuuji, fushiguro megumi, geto suguru + nanami kento

ღ warnings — the aftermath of an argument but it’s all fluff, gojo being gojo >.<

ღ note — a lil bit of comfort for you guys with my favourite babies <3

・✶ ｡ﾟGOJO SATORU

you groan when you feel yourself being shaken awake, squinting to allow your eyes to adjust to the darkness in the room—only to be met with a very sleepy satoru looking back at you. his crystalline eyes are a little darker underneath than usual, his hair messier from the endless tossing and turning it feels like he’s done, but his palm is still warm when it rests against your cheek. “morning, how ‘bout you come back to bed, angel, yeah? sleeping so pretty without me, you’re breaking my heart here.” satoru murmurs, his voice raspy and low with sleep and you can’t help but nod at his request when you feel his thumb graze along your cheek soothingly. feeling his arms wrap around you as he gathers you in his arms and guides you back to your shared bed, pressing you tightly against his chest while leaving a few soft kisses against your temple. satoru’s still gentle when he places you down, but there’s a lazy grin on his lips when he’s climbing in next to you and wrapping his arms around your waist, his voice smooth as his lips move against the skin of your neck “i know you’re gonna say i’m annoying, but you put up with me so well, baby—and you’re kinda hot when you’re mad.”

・✶ ｡ﾟITADORI YUUJI

itadori blinks at you from his place stood in the doorway of the guest bedroom, his pillow held tightly against his chest as he sniffles, tiptoeing over to your sleeping figure. there’s a wobbly smile on his lips as he gazes down at your peacefully sleeping expression, and he doesn’t hesitate to lift the blanket over you in favour of sliding in next to you. the sudden but familiar warmth causes you to shake wake when you feel his arms pull you against his chest. “yuuji?” you murmur, rubbing your eyes to look at your boyfriend and you watch him pout down at you. “i-i’m sorry, i love you so much.” yuuji breathes, his words a little broken as he exhales shakily, his cheeks still a little damp with tears—he hated arguing with you. but your touch alone soothes him when your hand rests against his broad chest, a comforting silence settling in the room before he speaks again, voice a little steadier this time “we’ll be okay right?” he asks and you soften before you reply “always.”

・✶ ｡ﾟFUSHIGURO MEGUMI

megumi lay awake as he let his words from earlier swim through his head, still expecting you to join him in bed after everything, giving him an opportunity to apologise—but when you don’t, he can’t help but look for you. he knows where you’ll be, but he doesn’t expect to find you in the guest bedroom with damp cheeks and slightly swollen features—the sight weighing heavily on his heart as he blinks down at you, smoothing his thumb along your cheek soothingly. megumi’s touch is chaste but enough to wake you and he exhales shakily when you blink up at him, your eyes still puffy. “gumi?” you whimper and the familiar nickname has hope warming his chest as he kneels down beside you. “i, i just didn’t want you getting cold. do you wanna come back to bed?” megumi breathes, his features soft while a pout sits subtly on his lips and you can’t help but melt when he sends you a gentle smile, his sleepy face framed by his messy dark hair. his hand resting over your own. “we’ll figure it out tomorrow.”

・✶ ｡ﾟ GETO SUGURU

you were still awake when you heard a noise from beside the guest bed, nuzzling deeper into the pillow as you squeeze your eyes closed—already missing the familiar warmth of your boyfriend around you. you jolt when you suddenly feel something smooth over your arm, turning to be met with a very sleepy looking suguru as he pouts down at you, his eyes narrowed and heavy with sleep as he crawls in next to you. “relax, pretty. you really think i’d let you go to sleep upset?” he drawls, turning on his side to blink at you before his hand rests against your waist—cautiously, not wanting to make you uncomfortable incase you were still mad. you shuffle closer, giving suguru a nod before he pulls you against his chest, his arms wrapping around your waist and its tighter than usual, hearing him sigh against your skin when he finally relaxes, until he’s pulling back to pull you in for a quick kiss. “hate seeing you sad, baby. turns out i can’t sleep without you either.. we’ll talk tomorrow, alright?”

・✶ ｡ﾟNANAMI KENTO

you’d been trying to sleep for so long so you were already frustrated when you felt yourself being shaken awake gently, blinking the haziness of sleep from your eyes to be met with an equally tired looking nanami as he leans over you. he’d never wanted to let you leave the room but he knew you needed the time alone before he looked for you. “what’re you doing?” you murmur, sitting up slightly and you hear your boyfriend grumble in response, his voice deep as the sound rumbles through his chest “i wont stay if you don’t want me to, sweetheart. just making sure you’re alright is all.” nanami mumbles, returning to tucking the extra blankets he brought from your bedroom around you until you’re securely wrapped, already feeling a lot cosier when he blinks down at you—the lack of sleep visible on his features even in the dim lighting of the room. but despite everything you don’t hesitate to reach for him when he turns to leave, watching him turn with the ghost of a frown on his features “stay” and then you watch it soften before a soft, relieved smile twitches at the corner of his lips.

© 2022 garoujo. please do not copy any of my layouts or writing and translate or repost onto any other sites.

Some messy dorito shaped Geto sketches inspired by this one tweet 👀

I had to add tattoos because...yes this is very self-indulgent