hi miss v!! 🥺 i hope you're having a wonderful day/night <3 this event is rly cute 🥺..,, could i request "you could be the one that i keep" and sanemi? thank you.,, giving u a little smooch.., <3333
sanemi shinazugawa x you could be the one that I keep
“I honestly can’t believe you” Obanai is not put off by your scowl in the slightest, if anything he’s fighting back a smile.
“I remember mentioning the night out”
“You never mentioned drinks being on Tengen” you hiss and this time he does smirk.
“Not our fault your man can’t hold his liquor”
His words light a fire in your stomach and you feel blood rushing all the way to your cheeks.
“He’s not—”
“Yeah, yeah, not yet because both of you are goddamn idiots” his gaze suddenly shifts from your eyes to something behind you.
“Hey” the greeting is soft, he’s always softer when he’s drunk “finally decided to join us?” you know he only has a hand on your shoulder to balance himself and you’re certain his lips feel too close to the shell of your ear only because he’s doing a terrible job at not tripping over his own feet.
“I’m here to drive you home” well, it’s not like you’re being any better at playing off your self-consciousness as annoyance.
You expect protests, outrage, a little tantrum even, but all Sanemi does is huff through his nose and glare at Obanai.
“I told you I’m fine” he slightly sways and the grip on your shoulder tightens.
“Sure you are” his best friend clicks his tongue and flashes him a smile “we’re gonna leave too in a bit and there’s only so much space in Kyojuro’s car”
The lie is so blatant is offensive, really. Sober Sanemi would’ve kicked his ass.
“Fine” drunk him sleepily mumbles instead, before he puts his entire arm around your shoulders “take me home, then”
Such simple words have your insides churning. Glaring one final time at Obanai, you walk past him and towards the exit.
As you navigate the crowded bar, Sanemi barely registers the hollering coming from the table he was sitting at until you showed up, his friends yelling for you to join them. He stumbles slightly against you, far too distracted by the fruity scent of your hair and the arm you have secured around his waist.
The breeze outside is cool. He actually knows he’s long gone from the way he can feel the thumping of the music from the bar right inside his stomach, from how breathing suddenly takes more effort. Must be why he stumbles forward until he’s leaning up against your car as soon as he spots the familiar honda civic, a soft laugh escaping his lips when he opens his eyes and sees the way you’re looking at him.
“M’okay” he assures, flushed cheeks and pale eyes “I apologize for being a nuisance”
It’s just that I feel I could swim through the sidewalk right now so I need a moment, he mentally adds.
You giggle and Sanemi forces his eyes to focus because he doesn’t want blurry vision to keep him from witnessing the beautiful way your eyes crinkle.
“What?” he asks, mirroring your smile by muscle memory.
“Nothing” you shrug and the oversized coat you’re wearing almost swallows you whole “I like it when you’re drunk and talk like that”
“Like what?”
“All formal and solemn” you giddily grin underneath the streetlights and Sanemi rolls his eyes. It’s a mistake, because his stomach contracts from a pang of nausea right away. He feels dizzy and hates the fact that you’re there just as his designated driver, he hates that the alcohol currently buzzing through his veins has him already reaching the stage where he’s about to throw up. He wishes you would’ve showed up when he was still two drinks in, the thinking about you enough to just fucking kiss you if you were here stage.
“Come on, let’s go” he’s having a hard time standing without swaying so you inch forward to open the passenger side door and help him climb onto your leather seat. You feel the warmth radiating from his body as you buckle him in and Sanemi has to dig his nails into his palms to keep his hands from grabbing you by the waist.
It’s a quick drive to his apartment, he rents a place close to downtown. He’s spent the entire ride in silence, just looking at you and being quick to turn his attention to the dash whenever you’d glance at him to make sure he was still awake. Right as you park before his apartment complex, Sanemi rolls down his window and just rests his head against the seat, eyes closed.
“We’re here” your fingers lightly drum on the steering wheel. He knows it’s the middle of the night and you’re probably aching to go back to bed already, but he wants this moment to last just a bit longer. Your perfume smells too nice and your voice is too gentle for him to simply get out of the car and crawl back to his empty flat.
“Nemi?”
“Yeah. I won’t fall asleep, don’t worry. Can we just stay like this for a second?” he doesn’t need to open his eyes to know that you’re getting comfortable in your own seat. His heart swells with relief at your little sure.
“Wanna tell me how much you had to drink?” your tone is playful but he scoffs nonetheless, opening his eyes once more. To avoid looking at you, he pulls the latch of your glove box to the left to open it. Vehicle paperwork, receipts, $10 in quarters, a lipstick and…
“Can’t believe you kept this” he mumbles to himself as he takes the little keychain he’s bought for you at a fair so many years before, when you still barely knew each other and he already knew how big of a problem you were going to become.
“M’not like you, I keep everything” you smile.
Sanemi scoffs.
“I could keep you” he thinks to himself “you could be the one that I keep”
Thank god he wouldn’t dare speak those words out loud.
Happy birthday V! Could you do sanemi + I know you like me? Have a great day :)
sanemi shinazugawa x I know you like me
You can’t help but wince when Tanjiro headbutts him, lips curling and brows furrowing in a grimace that, much to your embarrassment, has Shinobu chuckling. It feels like she’s always watching you when he’s filming a scene, especially if it’s anything involving any kind of violence or bleeding.
“It doesn’t really hurt, you know” she whispers.
“I know. I’m the one who has to make sure it looks realistic” you whisper back heatedly. She offers you a smile.
“Right”
But then it happens again, right as he slashes his hand open with a knife in front of Nezuko. You suck in a sharp breath and are unable to keep your eyes on the fat blobs of blood dripping from his wrist to the floor, devilish grin splitting his face not really enough to ease your nerves.
Rationally, you know it’s just the corn syrup you have prepared. You know the injuries on his body have been meticulosuly applied with your own fingertips, barely half an hour spent exchanging casual remarks about each other’s dark circles and asking informal questions about the other’s weekend. It was pathetic, really, the contraction your stomach responded with when he handed you the extra hot beverage he brought to his trailer. Black hazelnut coffee. It’s sweet, because he remembered it’s your favorite, it’s also expensive: you know that because he got it from that extra popular cafe downtown, where they don’t use syrups and hazelnuts are grinded in with the coffee.
As cliché as it sounds, the moments spent prepping him for his scenes are the best part of your day. He’s similar to his character in a way, equally stubborn, blunt, with brows often furrowed and a deep scowl distorting his features, especially when he has to be on set early in the morning. But he’s also completely different. Sanemi’s smile grows warmer throughout the hours spent between takes, lunch breaks and infinite amounts of caffeine. His eyes light up whenever Genya is around and although he usually makes a whole scene of huffing and puffing, in the end he always accepts to be part of his stupid tiktoks. He loves hanging out with people, is a great listener and the sweetest, most friendly person a fan of the show could ever run into.
Overall, he’s a very decent, kind, attractive person whose thoughtfulness shouldn’t stir anything in your chest and definitely shouldn’t have your palms feeling all clammy and disgusting in response to a simple smirk or a good morning mumbled with a big, warm hand lingering a few seconds more than what’s needed on your shoulder.
Well, perhaps you have a small, insignificant crush. You might feel infinitesimal pangs of jealousy whenever he’s locked inside his trailer with Kira, the costume designer, because she gets to touch him for hours on end. You may often wonder how it must feel for Kenji, the hairstylist, to run his fingers through that snowy locks each day.
“Cut!” the director seems pretty satisfied with the scenes they’ve rolled until now. He gives the actors two thumbs up and lands a few friendly pats on Tanjiro’s back. Izumi, the assistant director, approaches you to notify that Sanemi is going to film another gruesome fight scene. Genya, Gyomei and Muichiro are gonna need extra makeup to be applied as well, but their prosthetics are not ready yet and they’ve all asked for a short break anyway: Muichiro has to finish his homework, the other two haven’t had lunch yet.
“Have fun” Shinobu gives you a knowing smile as she noisily sips her taro milk tea. Although it may be unprofessional, you shoot her a glare.
“Stop it”
“Why? You don’t think your job is fun?” she innocently bats her eyelashes, to which you groan.
“Shinobu”
“I think it’s fun”
“What’s fun?”
You jump and Shinobu can’t contain her chuckle any longer, a sound so sweet that would have you smiling immediately on a different occasion. Right now, it just accentuates your embarrassment.
“Their job” she shrugs and Sanemi cocks his head, a small frown settling over his features as he looks at you.
“Ah, guess you’re tired. Sorry to be a bother, I didn’t think we’d film that scene so early”
Dumbfounded, you stare back at him for a few seconds. Always so clever, of course he’s sensed the sarcasm.
“What? No, no. You’re not a bother, it’s my job to take care of you”
Perhaps you could have phrased that better. Nevertheless, the smile that splits his face is a reason good enough not to succumb to the abyss of awkwardness threatening to swallow you whole.
And so, back you are in his trailer, sitting in front of him, well aware of the fact that you’re soon gonna have to apply makeup all over his exposed chest. Still, you choose to start from his face.
“Was the coffee good?” he asks as you apply a thin layer of yellow cream to his cheekbone.
“So good” you smile “thank you”
“We should get another”
You hum distractedly, busy dabbing a layer of violet cream mixed with navy cream on top of the previous layer. Finally, you add pockets of maroon, keeping everything as asymmetric as possible to make it look realistic.
“Tomorrow is your day off, right?”
Finally, your fingers come to a halt as you slightly pull back to look at him.
“Yes?”
Cautious, he thinks. Pretty, too.
“So, coffee? My treat?” he’s offering a charming smile, one that has your pulse freaking out on the spot.
“Why?” surely it’s not the best reply one could come up with but, seriously, why would he…?
Sanemi laughs at your shocked expression.
“I know you like me” he has the nerve to shrug but is quick to make up for a cockiness that doesn’t quite suit him, nor the pinkish tips of his ears “I like you. And coffee. Seems only fair we do something about it, right?”
Read that you want to experiment with blue lock so I'd like to request sae itoshi for you event, with the prompt "we are alone, just you and me". Thank you so much! 💜
sae itoshi x we are alone, just you and me
It’s not like Sae Itoshi didn’t believe in love. In fact, he was very aware of love as a concept being pretty real, as well as something he never could see himself being interested in. Since a young age, his priorities and plan to become the best striker in the world had left little to no time for whatever didn’t work in favor of achieving his goal.
But then something happened, you happened. Nothing more than a stranger assigned to be his new manager, one he couldn’t get rid of if he tried. Not in Japan, not in Spain, not when he didn’t feel like hearing a single word uttered by another human being, not when he’d refuse to attend photoshoots or give an interview. You’d just always be there, a presence so persistent he’d feel on the edge of insanity at every rude remark and whim you refused to let scratch your armor of tireless professionalism.
And then, one day Sae could tell something was wrong. Your eyes were dull, tone weary, no sight of the smile you’d usually accompany the good morning, Mr. Itoshi that would have him react with a mocking, impatient snort. You still went through his daily schedule, impeccable as always, but something kept nagging at his brain during training, so much that he couldn’t properly focus. Not with the stands so empty, not with the sad inflection of your voice still ringing in his ears. And so, for the first time in his life and not without a grunt, Sae Itoshi left halfway through his training to go looking for you.
You might not be his manager anymore but, sure enough, Sae still can’t go through a single day without you. He doesn’t quite understand how it’s happened, but he now wakes up next to you most mornings. Always the one waking up first, he doesn’t move a muscle and just stays perfectly still, barely able to placate the tingling of fingers always so eager to explore features he already has memorized. The bridge of your nose, the softness of your eyebrows, fluttering lashes and parted lips. He’s usually only able to resist for a few minutes, that’s all you get before he grazes the tip of your nose with his own until you stir awake and he can kiss you once he’s sure you’re conscious enough to feel it. You try to pull back, mumbling a pathetic morning breath against his mouth. He just firmly grabs a hold of both of your cheeks with one hand and pulls you closer.
There’s still plenty Sae doesn’t understand about love but you’re a good teacher and he’s always been a dedicated student. What he’s still having a hard time handling are the moments you become sheepish, hesitant. You’ve had your fair share of hate comments and rude insinuations, you usually handle paparazzi and gossip articles well enough (most of the time he’s the one getting worked up, the man has opened an entire instagram account just to have a place he could share pictures of you to shut ‘em all up) but when it comes to stadiums, teammates, reporters? You just shy away, you pull back. You get scared. And he cannot stand it.
“Relax” Sae mutters.
“I’m totally relaxed” your plastic smile has his eyes rolling by default.
It’s a little ritual he has: before every game he’s always the first player to arrive in the tunnel. He makes sure to hide from cameras and fans, perfectly concealed by the semi-darkness.
Sae wants you there each time you’re at the stadium, not so much for himself but for you. He knows how nervous and overwhelmed you get, he knows the same floodlights that have adrenaline buzzing through his veins can be blinding and he can only guess how deafening all the cheering and applause he lives for can become.
So, before each game, he takes a second to just be there.
“We are alone” one strong arm is suddenly around your waist as he pulls you into him and his lips press to your temple “just you and me”
“We’re definitely not alone” you giggle nervously as you hug him back, secretly savoring the scent of his clean jersey.
“We are. Whose else’s voice can you hear right now?”
“A couple thousand people?”
He huffs, a gentle finger underneath your chin to lift your face enough for his lips to find the shell of your ear.
“Really?” the gruffness punctuating his hushed tone does something funny to your stomach “I’m this close and you’re thinking about a couple thousand people?”
You laugh again, hiding your face into his chest. It’s one of your favorite things, the way his arms close around you in a second. Right at the beginning of your relationship, you remember telling him how touch starved you thought he was. That’s fucking ridiculous, he had grumbled, only to melt under your fingertips, chase your lips and fall asleep with your legs intertwined most nights.
“M’sorry” you whisper and Sae scoffs.
“Don’t apologize”
“But I’m—”
“You’re not”
High maintenance. The nerve you have to even attempt to speak such silly words in front of him, the literal king of troublesome personalities.
You deflate against his chest with a sigh and he hugs you tighter, already glaring at the staff member who’s about to approach you.
“It’s just us. They’re white noise in the background” he has to whisper it because the goddamn asshole is actually coming closer.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Itoshi, it’s time—”
“Five fucking minutes” he snaps, one hand reaching protectively to the nape of your neck. It’s no use, because you pull back and his body is left cold once again.
“I’m leaving in a second” the smile you direct the staff member is genuine, sweet. Sae knows the excited drone of teammates approaching the tunnel is always your cue, so he presses a quick kiss to the corner of your mouth.
HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!!! This is such a fun event idea❤️❤️
I would love: Levi + “in my dreams, you’re touching my face” + enemies to lovers
levi ackerman x in my dreams, you're touching my face
“What the fuck?” the drowsiness evaporates and the hand tiredly rubbing your eye halts right as you open the door to be met with a very unexpected, very unwelcome, very bloodied Levi “what the hell happened?!”
Against all odds, you figure you’re not dreaming when his figure, barely able to stand against your doorway, sways forward dangerously enough for you to reach out to support him by grabbing his shoulders.
“Sorry” he mumbles, although it’s more of a slur “d’you happen to have some ice? Five minutes n’I’ll be on my way”
“Christ” you hiss, his weight far too heavy for you not to lose your balance. The surge of adrenaline assists you in dragging him all the way to the couch: the bathroom would’ve been more functional but you really don’t want to risk a double fall down the stairs at 3:00AM in the goddamn morning.
With a frown, he relaxes against the backrest, silvery gaze looking up at you with a glint of familiar mockery.
“You gonna stand there for long? My face hurts”
Stunned, you stare back.
“Are you gonna tell me what the fuck—”
“Yes. After you get the fucking ice”
A vein throbs on your temple but you settle for a deep breath despite it being the middle of the night and him being the last person you’d open the door for. Only a swollen black eye, busted lip and what looks like dried blood all around the nose could've been a reason good enough to let him in. Fuck.
As you head to your open plan kitchen to rummage through the freezer, it feels weird to have your pulse tap a little faster against your skin. Sweat is sticking the old shirt you sleep in to your back and you tell yourself that it’s a legit body reaction to the sudden presence in your living room, the most annoying, irritating man you’ve ever met resting his head backwards on your couch, black and blue, eyes closed. Unwanted, icy concern crawls all the way up to your chest and it takes a lot of effort to push it back down. Not that it works.
You make your way back to him and sit on the coffee table. Your knees brush against his as Levi straightens up with a grimace of pain that has you clutching the bag of frozen peas you’re holding. There’s also a wet washcloth and a pack of plasters in your lap.
“Thought you said you had ice” he eyes the bag you’re holding and you slap his hand away as he reaches to grab it, roughly grasping his chin to turn his head to the side and press the frozen replacement to his eyelid. He sucks a sharp breath in through his teeth but deems wiser to say nothing.
“Still waiting for an explanation” you’re secretly thankful for the dim light coming from the kitchen, as it keeps your features and his in a protective semi-darkness. Still, it’s weird to have the pads of your fingers press into his skin to keep him still. It’s weird to tend to someone you’ve never had a non hostile interaction with, sarcastic remarks and snappy attitude wearing your patience thin enough for you to stop trying to be civil. For you to mold your approach to his instead.
“Got into a fight” he mutters and you snort, pressing the bag a little harder.
“No shit”
“You wanted an explanation”
“Levi”
He brings his gaze back to you. It’s almost as if he’s searching for something in your features, or maybe the dim lights are granting his eyes an intensity that’s not really there.
“I was on my way home. One of them was bothering a woman. Punched him in the face when he refused to fuck off, his friends came out of nowhere. Happy?”
You release your breath slowly, not really thinking as you close your fingers around his wrist and lift his hand to replace yours on frozen bag duty. Surprisingly, he says nothing, eyes still on you. Not letting go of his chin, your frosty digits grab the wet washcloth to attentively dab his upper lip, twitching in pain at the contact.
“Why here?” you avoid his gaze, forcing yourself to focus on the blood you’re trying to clean up.
“Hange’s out of town, Erwin would’ve made it a big deal. I didn’t really know where else to go” he pauses, lets a beat pass as if mustering the courage or rather swallowing enough pride to go on “sorry for waking you up, barging in n’all this”
You gently turn his head to the other side. Examining his face gives you the advantage of having a few seconds to collect your thoughts and let the unanticipated words sink in. Why does he talk like he has a stick up his ass all the time, when he can sound like this? Polite, kind. Soft, even.
“It’s fine, I wasn’t sleeping anyway”
Levi huffs at that, because of course you’d be considerate enough to lie. Of course your careful fingertips feel soothing against his skin, their warmth a sharp contrast to the ice numbing the left side of his face. He’s lost in thought, distracted by your brows furrowed in concentration, the bridge of your nose, your lips pressed into a thin line.
“You know, sometimes you do this” he mutters “from time to time, in my dreams you’re touching my face” and for a second, just one second, your heart slams a bit too hard against your ribcage at the gentleness of his tone.
But then a familiar, sarcastic smirk stretches his chapped lips.
“Nightmares fueled by all the times I’ve watched you eat your greasy sandwiches on lunch break. Oily fingers and everything”
Now, that’s a valid reason to tighten your grip, pointer finger pressing to the bruise forming on his jaw painfully enough to make him wince.
my LOVE i finally figured out my prompt for your event :) how about:
Maki (jjk) + "you, that’s what happened. you"
the mood, the theme, the setting-- completely up to you. i trust you with my life and my wife and I can't wait to read your interpretation <3 (hope the event is going well so far!! can't wait to read them all)
maki zenin x you, that’s what happened, you
“And that’s when she tried to blow a bubble with her gum and basically shot it out of her mouth”
“Perfectly aimed at my neck”
“I wasn’t aiming” you grumble, to which your friends look at each other and chuckle.
The arm lazily thrown around your shoulders tightens, calloused thumb lightly grazing your neck. It slowly moves up and down, distracting enouch to take your mind off the embarrassing story just recounted from your old classmates.
“I mean” half a smile tugs at Maki’s lips, a delightful but equally menacing crescent you know well enough to brace yourself for whatever is coming “at least she wasn’t caught giving head to her sophomore girlfriend in the disabled bathroom”
Thank fuck you’re done drinking your coffee and can’t choke on it. Nevertheless, your stomach does a flip perfectly synchronized with the surprised snort Aya lets out.
“You win” Ryo gives Maki a thumbs up with an impressed albeit astonished smile. His gaze then flickers to you, a slight raise of the eyebrows that makes you want to crawl into a hole and die. You know what he’s thinking, that you’re currently winning as well. If only.
“So how did you two meet again?” Aya clears her throat and you appreciate the change of subject.
“Mutual friend” Maki lightly shrugs “we were both at his birthday party and he introduced us”
“I got drunk” you add, grateful to finally have something true to share amidst that whole charade.
“She was so beautiful” you turn your head to look at her and she mirrors your startled glance with one filled with fondness and an ounce of mischief “I knew it then. Knew it right away”
Your heart twists almost painfully in your chest, secretly thankful for your friends’ honeyed oohs and awws: they buy you just enough time to tame your pulse.
Perhaps you should’ve went with your original plan of asking Nobara to pretend to be your girlfriend at the stupid reunion. Why you even came up with the dumb idea in the first place, is beyond you. You haven’t seen some of these people in years and the general hope was to make a good impression, one that could magically wash away little lame you from high school, the person you were so sure was carved into the memories of all those present.
Truth is, Maki is your closest friend and the first person you thought would go along with the stupid plan. The only inconvenient being the apocalyptic crush you’ve had on her for the longest, most embarrassing time.
Of course she was ready to tag along and show up to the reunion with an arm around your shoulders and her usual, magnetic charm. She just radiates confidence and you thought you’d feel safe, shielded by her poised aura. Instead you just feel on edge, insides churning way too often at whatever comes out of her mouth, at each gentle touch she gifts you with. She’s playing the role all too well, far too convincing for everyone to see and for your heart to pathetically slam against your ribcage.
You hate how well she knows what she’s doing, the amount of times she’s called you baby, completely oblivious to her disgusting friend harboring not so friendly feelings for her.
For her nice perfume and shiny hair and narrowed gaze that turns soft as soon as she glances in your direction.
You hate the ill-concealed screech you let out as she pulled you into her lap as you were waiting for the bus, you’re embarrassed by how clammy your palm must’ve felt when you were entering the cafe (“hold my hand” “that’s really not necessary, Maki” “they’ll think something’s wrong if you don’t”) and you honestly cannot believe the number of times you have dissociated from the lively chatter taking place around you just to absentmindedly daydream about running your fingers through her strands or pressing a real kiss to lips looking so soft, always so inviting.
When you crack a joke and everyone laughs, your heart grows in size with what feels like pride. It’s surprising, it feels good. Not only witnessing a fit of laughter you could’ve never triggered back in high school but also Maki’s warm breath tickling your cheek as she giggles right next to you, in a way you just can’t bring yourself to perceive as fake.
The group slowly breaks apart because not everyone is from the same part of town and some have trains to catch, dinners to prepare, partners to go back to. Aya is the last one to stay and you’re happy she is, her presence every bit as comforting as you remembered.
“I like seeing you happy” she smiles, eyes briefly darting to a Maki supposedly busy rummaging through her bag “you were never like this back then. It suits you”
When she excuses herself to go to the bathroom, you deflate against your chair with a heavy sigh.
“I agree, you know” gentle fingers skim your arm “it suits you. Much more than the shy, apprehensive attitude you had this morning. What happened to that?” her smile is teasing, she’s probably proud to identify herself as the cause of the sudden change in the way you’re coming across.
On any other day, you wouldn’t have given her the satisfaction because you’re stubborn and proud like that. But right now? It feels fair. It feels right.
“You, that’s what happened. You” a timid shrug emphasizes your words “you’re here, so I feel safe. I feel strong”
And for the first time since you’ve known her, it’s Maki that stares back at you astonished, lips parted in surprise.
“I like the sound of that” she finally cracks that familiar smirk of hers. When she leans closer, you force yourself not to pull back.
“Me too”
Maki cocks her head, one hand rising to graciously grip your chin.
“Good” her breath is warm on your lips “stay in character for a second”
Hope you're having fun with your event! I'd like to request I'll do anything you say if you say it with your hands with Eren if that's okay!
eren yeager x I'll do anything you say if you say it with your hands
note: a tiny bit inspired by an ask received by @bloompompom!
“Eren”
He groans.
“Can you be a grown up for once?”
“I’m literally going to die if you make me take that”
You snort.
“Maybe then I’d be able to find some peace”
He glares at you and it sucks how much he looks like nothing but a kicked puppy underneath all those blankets.
“You don’t love me” he dramatically sighs and turns his head to the other side, a few strands of hair messily sticking to his forehead. What a headache.
Defeated, you sit on the side of the bed and gently feel his temperature by grazing a flushed cheek with your knuckles.
“I love you” it’s hushed albeit exasperated, coated in nothing but sincere concern. Perhaps that’s why he turns to look back at you right away “and I want you to feel better. Please, take it?”
The green in the eyes peering at you from underneath the covers is dull, a sour reminder of the difficult night you went through. Your body waking you up by pure instinct, the coldness of his very much empty spot prompting you to sit up and call his name. A painfully hoarse go back to sleep groaned from behind the bathroom door, followed by telltale sounds that had you rushing to his side without a second thought.
Now, Eren can be tough to deal with under normal circumstances: a relationship with him requires patience and a carefully built balance. But when he’s sick? Oh, the tragedy. The dramatics. In the last couple hours he’s whined about being about to die at least fifteen times, grumbled that you don’t understand, you never went through this at your Eren, it’s just a flu remark and you were honestly unable to keep count of all the sighs, moans and groans.
As you run your fingers through his locks, he fights the urge to shut his eyes because he still has a battle to win.
“It tastes like poison” Eren glares at the medicine in your hand. He’s right, you’ve had it before, it truly tastes like twice baked shit with a side of fuck you. But there’s no need to make that clear.
“I have water, crackers and chocolate” the pads of your fingers are massaging his scalp just the way he likes it “can you be the brave, strong man I’m so in love with? Can you do that for me, baby?” literal honey trickles from your sweet lips into his very chest and Eren knows he’s, once again, fucked. But that doesn’t mean he doesn’t have one last resort to rely on.
As he wraps them around yours, he’s well aware his lithe fingers are ice cold, if the shudders lightly shaking his body serve as an indicator. But you don’t pull back as he takes your hand and brings it to his mouth, chapped lips grazing each of your knuckles with surprising softness.
Eren had every intention of dropping the big guns. Shameless flattery with a pinch of intentionally clumsy flirting: there’s a soft spot reserved for his most authentic moments, the vulnerability that comes with genuine intimacy. He’s a natural charmer but he loves that he doesn’t have to be one all the time. Not with you.
With you, Eren can crack dad jokes and lame puns, wrap his arms around your frame and childishly refuse to let go, free to be as clingy as he likes. He can whine and moan and let out embarrassingly needy whimpers because he can always be the most honest version of himself, a version that needs you with a force so powerful it often floods his senses and better judgement.
But right now? The soft smile on your lips, the raw affection you’re looking at him with, are telling him everything he needs to know. You win. And it’s not because of sickly sweet words meant to stroke his ego. It’s because you’ve spent the entire night by his side, didn’t sleep a minute to make sure he could rest. Even as he could barely register the frantic back and forth between the bedroom and his kitchen, he felt the wet cloth placed on his forehead and the back of his neck, he remembers the taste of the honey and black pepper mixture meant to soothe his cough. More vivid than anything else is your caring touch, never leaving his cheeks, hair, wrists.
“You’re about to fall asleep” your chuckle does something funny to his chest.
Eren attempts to sit up with another exaggerated groan and you support him with a hand on his back, syrupy medicine ready in its plastic cup.
“I’ll do anything you say” he grumbles, glaring at the white liquid “if you say it with your hands” Eren adds in a murmur. And just like that, you lightly skim the line of his jaw with your fingers, then let them travel across his eyelids and allow them to linger on his lips for just a second, rising up to pinch his nose the moment they part for you.
He swallows the bitter medicine with a grimace and eagerly downs the water you offer him right after, forcing himself to focus on the sweet praises you’re muttering with your nose nuzzled into the crook of his neck. His skin is too hot and Eren knows you’re about to get up to go get another damp washcloth, which is why he doesn’t risk it and wraps an arm around your body instead of reaching over to the nightstand to grab a cracker.
“’Ren, lie back down”
“Yeah, yeah, in a second”
You can’t help but deflate against him, shutting your own eyes when he kisses the crown of your head.
“Thank you” it’s barely a whisper muffled by your hair but it makes you smile so wide.
“Anytime, you big baby”
He huffs.
“You know, there’s still something you could do to help, hands n'all”
i finally could take the time to look through the prompt list and if it is okay i was thinking of yuuji + the prompt 'it’s been occurring to me i’d like to hang out with you for my whole life' + maybee if you're feeling it roommates trope?
sunshine boy just has been on the brain lately, i'm really excited to read all that you come up with! :)
yuuji itadori x it’s been occurring to me I’d like to hang out with you for my whole life
As the front door not so gently shuts, you interrupt your hunt for snacks through cabinets and cupboards and peek out from the kitchen doorway.
“So? How’d it go?”, you raise your eyebrows expectantly, a pack of oreos ready to be slashed open in your hand.
Yuuji smiles awkwardly as he approaches you. He does that thing he does whenever he’s embarrassed: as a mild blush already creeping onto his cheeks, one hand rises up to his neck to nervously scratch it.
“T’was nice”, he shrugs the question away as if it’s no big deal. However, the way he avoids your gaze tells you the deal is there and it’s not small either.
The pack of oreos is left on the counter, hunger forgotten as you cross your arms.
“Was she rude?”, you’re already up in arms, scowl so deep he’d genuinely laugh if he wasn’t so desolated.
“She wasn’t”.
“Pretentious? She demanded you paid? I mean, I know you’d do it anyway, but insisting on the first date…”.
“No, really, it wasn’t—”
“She was late. Fuck, you even left early, I told you to take your t—”
“She stood me up”.
Your mouth hangs open, brows furrowed in an incredulous frown. A few seconds of silence follow his words and Yuuji has to shrug again, in hopes of playing the absurd thing off as trivial.
“Maybe she had a setback”, you want to be a good person and give this idiotic stranger the benefit of the doubt.
“Ah, not really. I saw her arrive at the restaurant. She looked at me, pretended not to see me and just left”, he walks past you to reach over the counter and grab a clean glass. As he quietly pours himself some water, you can feel your blood pressure skyrocket by the second.
“Sorry, what did you just say?”, you turn around in one swift motion “she stood you up intentionally?”
“It’s fine, really”, Yuuji’s lips curl into a sweet smile, albeit a little self-conscious “maybe it’s the pink hair, you know. Or the flashy sneakers? Anyway, can’t be everyone’s type. It’s fine” he repeats and downs the water while you have to blink back a fury that has you seeing red because what. the. fuck.
He takes notice of your outraged expression and fails to hold back another smile as he leans against the counter.
“What about you? No plans tonight?”.
But you cannot focus on his words. He’s left the house more than three hours ago, for a date that showed up only to leave. Which means he was probably too embarrassed to come back and has spent all this time alone, doing god knows what.
As a matter of fact, you do have plans. But you have no intention of going out, surely Nobara will understand. She always does, understand everything faster and better than you. She has ever since you’ve first met Yuuji anyway, her friend and probably the best roommate in the whole wide world.
“Mug cake”, you click your tongue and resume a hectic inspection of drawers, certain you still have some mix left somewhere.
“What?”, he cocks his head, confused.
Victorious, you pull out what you were looking for from underneath cookie cutters and measuring cups.
“It’s so good! There’s only one left, you can have it”, you know he’s looking at you, that’s why you avoid gentle eyes that would read everything there’s to read in yours. Anger, frustration, sadness. Not as attentive as he claims to be, he would mistake all those things for pity.
“Let’s share it?”, the question is sheepish, a little awkwardness laced into his tone still. Your heart beats a little faster against your ribcage as you smile.
The cake is prepared in his favorite, microwave-safe mug. It takes less than two minutes for the chocolate greatness to be ready and you insist on adding shredded coconut and sprinkles as colorful as his hair and sneakers on top.
You sit together on the couch, cross-legged and facing each other. Yuuji holds the mug and both your spoons sink easily into the fluffy, moist dessert as you eat in comfortable silence.
“I really like this”, he mutters and you have to resist the urge to run your thumb across his bottom lip to collect some stubborn chocolate remnants.
You hum instead, slowing down and reducing the size of each mouthful so that he can have more. Of course it escapes you, that he’s doing the same.
“Told you it’s good. How come we only have one left? Did I seriously eat the entire box?”.
Yuuji chuckles.
“You did. In about two days, I believe”, the only things vibrating in his tone are playfulness and gentle teasing. You heart swells with relief.
“I needed emotional support while…”.
“Watching BNHA, I know”, the sun rises and sets on his face as he finally gifts you that grin of his, the one that can make a difference between a good day and a bad day “but I didn’t mean that, although this stuff is amazing and I’m buying three boxes next time we go grocery shopping”
You let out an airy laugh. His eyes linger on you a second longer than usual before his gaze returns to the spoon scraping the bottom of his mug clean.
“I just meant that I like hanging out with you. I could easily do this forever”.
“Forever?”, your voice comes out strangled, surprise distorting your features and damn near trapping a piece of cake in your windpipe.
He hums.
“I just feel like I can’t even remember a time where I didn’t know you”, another kind smile stretches his lips, “I guess it’s been occurring to me, I’d like to hang out with you for my whole life if this is what it’s going to be like”.
Yuuji takes in the way you stare back, more shocked than held off. He thinks he can work with that.
