Nobody But You

nobody but you

"mmph, haa stop- mmphh, I can't breathe"

he dosen't stop, in fact he kisses you even more aggresively , today had been one of those rough days where he just wanted to come home and lie in your embrace, melt from your kisses and cuddle for hours, with you stoking his hair and whispering how much you loved him.

gojo satoru, itoshi sae, aventurine, megumi fushiguro,sukuna, ,gallagher, toji fushiguro ,blade + any of your favs!

aether, like countless other knights and princes across the realm seeking glory, sets off on a journey to free the princess from the locked tower and slay the fearsome dragon guarding her.

meanwhile, neuvillette is tired of all these humans trespassing into his home and attempting to steal his wife.

HIS SLEEPING BEAUTY ♡

FEATURING: D.Osamu + Fem!reader

♡ Dazai comes home early, and is met with the most adorable sight of his life: you

CW: fluff, kissing, established relationship, mention of kunikida, dazai skips work, one suggestive joke, NOT PROOFREAD

A/N: this is so self indulgent but i need osamu to do this to me sb :<<

"♪ And while you sleep, I'll be scared. So by the time you wake I'll be brave ♪"

The door to your shared room creaked open slowly, revealing a tired looking dazai in the doorframe. He carded his fingers through his hair, about to call your name before his eyes fell upon you. You were asleep, hair fanned out on the pillow and the sheets twisted up around your legs.

Carefully, dazai walked over and he could feel his heart throb when he saw that the shirt you were wearing, the top few buttons undone and the hem riding up your thighs, was his own. You must've stolen it from his side of the closet, not that dazai minded.

He carefully made his way to the bed, crouching at the side to admire your features dripping in golden sunlight, brushing strands of hair out of your face. Dazai paused and then shrugged his tan trench coat off his shoulders, letting it bunch up on the floor. He crawled into bed besides you, discreetly nestling himself against you and cautiously draped your arm over him before resting his forehead over the place on your chest where he could hear the steady, grounding thrum of your heart. The artificially crafted scene looked perfect, as if he woke from a dreamless night wrapped in your welcoming embrace.

Such a picture of serenity wasn't held for very long. Dazai planted gentle kisses on your neck, tugging down your collar to kiss at the dip of your shoulder as well. Through this silent display of affection, you quietly stirred, eyes heavy with sleep as you looked down at the brunette curled against you.

"'samu...?" your warm breath tickled his scalp as you spoke with a voice hardened with drowsiness. Dazai grinned coyly, brushing strands of hair away from your face before resting his thumb against your bottom lip.

"Yes love?" He murmured, pressing down on your lip.

"shouldn' you be at work? wha' s'the time?" you turned your head to the side in an attempt to capture a glance at the clock resting on the bedside table. Dazai shushed you quietly, cupping your cheek and turning your sleepy gaze back to him.

"I waaass let off early! Kunikida agreed with me when I said I had to see your pretty face twenty-four-seven!" He knew that was a lie. Dazai had ditched the office early, and he knew that he couldn't ignore kunikida's phone calls demanding him to get back for very long.

You blinked as you slowly became more lucid, lips parting as you realized it. "...You liar! you ditched work early, didn' you?" You sat up on your elbows and dazai quickly pushed you back down onto your back, pouting.

"Bella'! I'd do no such thing! I'm telling the truth!" He whined, planting his chin below your bony clavicle. He collected a few strands of your hair, watching them fall through nimble fingers.

"uh-huh."

"Bella!!" Dazai huffed childishly, gaping when you pulled away from him when he tried to kiss you.

"Go. Back. To. Work." you rolled onto your side, back facing him. Dazai stared at you like a kicked puppy, warm brown eyes wide and full of hurt. Once he realized guilt-tripping you wouldn't work, he carefully crawling over to you and plopping down by your figure. He pressed his face into the back of your neck, one hand draping over your waist and the other fiddling with wispy baby hairs at the back of your neck.

"C'monnnn, don't be like that..." Dazai mumbled against your skin, pressing his lips to the nape of your neck. "I missed you sooo much!" He waited a minute, the only sound coming from you was the sound of your soft breathing. This wasn't gonna cut it for dazai.

You were flipped onto your back with a soft thud, eyes fluttering open to see dazai literally laying on top of you as he looked up with pleading eyes. His fingers reached out and cupped your face, squishing your cheeks a bit.

"Darling! I really am sorry but how can you blame me for wanting to see the prettiest girl ever?" He grinned, leaning over and kissing the corner of your mouth. One turned into two, and soon dazai was all over you, hands curled into your hair as he peppered his lips over your face, brushing through your hair.

He giggled as you whined and tried to push him away, hands slinking up your shirt and splaying long fingers over the soft skin of your tummy, tickling it just to hear you squeal.

You curled up against yourself, pushing dazai's hands away. He tutted lightly, pulling your legs away from your chest. One hand found purchase on your thigh, pressing down keep you from squirming away. With a stupid grin, dazai lightly gripped the hem of the shirt. "See? You missed me so much didn't you bella'?" He giggled, leaning down to kiss you softly before pulling away.

Dazai scooted down, lifting the shirt up despite your flustered protests. "hush now, I've seen you without your shirt a million times, love." his smile only grew as he saw you purse your lips, eyes growing wide as you whined and squirmed in response to his flirts.

He began to press his lips to the soft skin of your stomach, grinning against it as you whined and suppressed giggles of how it tickled.

"'samu!! s-stop that !!" Your adorable squeals only fueled dazai to plant more fluttering kisses along your abdomen, his hand sliding up to trace the curve of your waist.

"nuh-uh! Not 'till you admit you missed me!" Dazai sighed and slid his hands down, cupping your hip. He looked up at you and his stomach churned pleasantly at the sight of you, the prettiest thing he swears he's ever seen. The way your hair was spread out on the pillow like a halo, and your lips parted as you let out the cutest giggles- he wouldn't believe he had a heart if it weren't for the way you melt it.

"looks like there's an angel in my bed." Dazai chuckled softly. he peppered a few more soft kisses on your tummy before moving up, kissing your forehead. "...my pretty girl." Another kiss against your cheek. "the prettiest gi-" he was suddenly cut off when you pressed a finger to his lip, pouting and about to whine when he saw the adorable look on your face; the corners of your eyes crinkled up and lips pulled up in that smile of yours that he loved so much.

"dazai, I get it!" You giggled. "You love me!" dazai grinned, pressing a quick kiss to your finger before gently curling lithe fingers around your wrist, kissing each and every one of your fingers.

He finished with a kiss to your palm, looking at you with eyes of molten honey and pure adoration.

"I love you more than you'll ever know, darling."

...♡♡♡...

©Cheriiyaya 2024

taglist will be added once it shows up in the tags. wanna be tagged? ♡

language ノ dr. ratio . gn!reader

ৎ୭ ₊ ˙ ⊹ . 0.6k — oral . character receiving ノ sloppy head so good it made him finally shut up ノ short thirst from my notes that i do not remember writing :)

he was perfect. perfect like those ancient statues, with marble looking so soft and detailed, as if someone turned an actual human into a sculpture with a spell, not a chisel. tall and wide, toned muscles, unblemished skin, no hair on his body. except… sliding the pants down his hips, you see his girth still not fully hard, but already so big, so swollen.

unlike those ancient statues with barely anything to show.

you take it in your mouth. carefully. lick him, kiss the tip, and slowly roll back the foreskin until the head is glistening and ready for you to spit on it. just enough so it would make wet sounds while you swallow his length as much as you can, almost reaching your throat. you cannot fit him entirely, but you can feel he’s satisfied enough just to sense your warmth enveloping him from all sides.

as unusual as it is, he’s silent, quietly humming under his nose as his half-lidded eyes follow your movements, analysing and simply adoring whatever you’re doing right now. no harshly spewed comments? no instructions? not even praise? nothing. perhaps you took his ability to speak together with his cock, the gentle suck disarming him from his most powerful weapon — language.

for an unknown reason, this thought fills you up with pride, spurring you on to slide his shaft out of your mouth only to slurp around his base once more, playing with different levels of pressure applied by your lips. sucking at his sack too, fondling and feeling the heaviness hidden under velvety soft skin. then you rise higher and lap around the head again.

finally getting some response in the form of an eager twitch, throbbing as you flatten your tongue against it. a plenitude of precum dribbles out onto your palate, and you swallow without hesitation. sweet and salty taste of arousal, delicate enough for you to enjoy. it makes you hungry for more of that flavour, and soon his girth slides deeper into your throat while your hand gives attention to the rest of his dick, twisting it slightly whenever you need to change your angle.

soon, there is a heavy palm tangling in your hair, pushing and pulling however it feels. guiding you away when you almost hit his limit and back when you aren’t applying enough force. so nice to be under the weight of his control, to the point your nails scrape teasingly insides of his parted thighs. enough for him to feel a sting whenever he rubs his legs together later on.

still, nothing coming from him except for breathy hums and satisfied exhales. should you wear a badge, you want to be called from now on the one who silenced the doctor veritas ratio himself, unable to counter the skill of your tongue. and no one needs to know what exactly it means.

one particular twist of your wrist has him letting go of your hair and placing both of his palms on the bed instead. it’s quite difficult to concentrate with you licking all around his girth like on a lollipop before, but now you can observe how his whole body shivers when you give a few sharp sucks on your way up his length.

so you do it again, a little stronger than before, earning yet another subtle shake.

you trace a finger along the vein from his base to his tip, covering him in your spit mixed with his precum, smearing the liquids all over the sensitive head and listening closely to any sound he could make. when none came, you added even more slickness, stroking him up and down. firm grip with a generous amount of friction from your lubed hand moving across his flesh.

now he’s leaking into your palm, skin slicked to skin, but you do not care. actually, this very thought encourages you to continue, to make such a wise and proper man feel this good he’s unable to utter a word.

244 words no warnings + fem reader. entirely self indulgent and not proofread. requests r open.

tabito karasu, the boy next door. tabito karasu who's always had a nasty habit of annoying you, even when you were kids. tabito karasu, who calls you princess just to piss you off. tabito karasu who hangs with you — the weird kid — at lunch every day even when the other boys want him on their soccer teams and the girls are cooing over him from different corners of the room. tabito karasu, who walks you home every day, even when you have extracurriculars and he doesn't. tabito karasu who checks on you when you don't go to school and buys your favourite snacks for your mom to give you when you're sick (she loves him). tabito karasu who carries your stuff when you're especially tired. tabito karasu who lets you lean your head on his shoulder if you take the bus. tabito karasu who hooks his pinky finger onto yours and promises to never leave you. tabito karasu, who you hate. tabito karasu, who presses his lips to yours one moonlit night, grinning into the kiss as the two of you celebrate, high off the euphoria and pride of him getting finally getting scouted by a soccer company — blue lock, or something. tabito karasu who scores every goal for you. tabito karasu who comes to see you first when the first leg of the training program finally ends. tabito karasu who you've come to love. tabito karasu, who you realise has always been yours.

sorry ill go write the smau now. sorry chat the brainworms took over. literally typed this in notes app ermmm

from the start ; sae itoshi x f!reader P2 [CH1]

note: here's part 2!

wc ; 4.5k | content ; slow burn, swearing, tension, angst, situationship, kissing, making out, crying, more angst, not proofread, reader is Over It but sae is down bad, sae is rich, cringe cliche tropes i'm sorry, english isn't my first language, two parter?, no prns but reader wears a dress, ooc, reader and sae both have rich and absent, implied smut? maybe, alcohol, reader and sae are both 19

summary ; the world has a different kind of birthday present for you today

You barely make it to your room before you break down, sobbing so hard you can barely breathe. White-hot tears trace paths down your cheeks like lava, dripping off your face onto the sheets. The sheets that still smell of him. Your clothes smell of him. Even when he's leaving you, going off to another fucking continent, he still surrounds you, follows you around like a ghost. Your hands fist the sheets; you're curled into a ball, chest heaving. It hurts; everything hurts. Your heart and your soul and your chest and your life and even the thought of him, it’s all so painful you can’t even think properly.

You don’t know when exactly you pass out again, but when you finally wake up, it’s about eight. In the evening. You stare at your phone; to your surprise there’s over a hundred missed calls, and almost 400 texts from your friends. What the hell?

Asa’s calling you again. You pick up, confused. “What–”

“What the actual fuck, y/n, where were you? And what was Sae Itoshi doing at your house last night?”

“What?” you say dumbly, voice groggy. You’ve barely just woken up.

“Okay, yeah, not just last night, but my point still stands!” she appears to have misread the reason for your confusion. “It’s all over our social media! I mean, you’re literally standing there with your face in his fucking hands like a fucking romcom!”

“What?” you repeat hoarsely.

“Quit repeating yourself, you goat,” she snaps. “Open up, I’m coming over.”

You take this opportunity to change out of Sae’s clothes – the t-shirt has “SAE” emblazoned on the front in bright red letters against white fabric, and it’s not exactly something that’ll help your current situation – and fix up your hair. You’re getting yourself some breakfast [dinner?] when the doorbell rings. You open it cautiously, slightly terrified, but to your relief it’s only Asa and Maki. And Asa looks mad as hell.

She struts in right past you, but Maki waits until you invite her in. She offers you a sheepish smile in lieu of an apology. When you turn back, she’s seated on the couch, next to the–

Shit. The bouquet.

Asa tosses it towards you with a wry smile; you fumble twice before catching it. She watches you as you put it away with more care than you should, then turns her phone towards you, no longer smiling.

“When were you gonna tell us about this?”

It’s an Instagram post. The image is blurry, so it takes a moment for it to register, for you to realize just what you’re looking at – it’s a photograph of the front of your house, late at night. You know it’s late at night, specifically because the door is open, and you’re standing there, and Sae’s there too, hands cupping your face. His back is turned to the camera but the shaggy reddish-brown hair is too noticeable for it to be anyone else. It looks like you’re holding his hands, like some sort of romantic gesture. It had been a romantic moment, but not on your part. but you’re not the internet, after all. Asa swipes, and the next photograph is Sae kissing you behind the bleachers. Your head is tilted up, half-covered by his black-gloved hand. He’s still in his soccer uniform, sweat glistening on his temple. You’re holding a water bottle –presumably his, and it’d be an adorable scene elsewhere. But not here, not now, not as a secret that everyone’s suddenly finding out about. The third picture shows you leaning back against a car – Sae’s car – in an empty parking lot, with a giddy smile on your face. You’re wearing his jacket over your tank top and shorts, and he’s brushing a wisp of your hair away from your face. The fourth – god, how many of these are there – is him bending down to whisper something in your ear when he thought no one was looking. Although the camera is zoomed in to a degree that should be illegal, the burning blush on your face is still apparent, and so is the wicked grin on Sae’s face. To your chagrin, you can remember the exact details of this conversation; it had been something along the lines of this.

Sae: y/n

You: what

Sae: wanna go to my car and make out?

You’d said no, and he hadn’t questioned it. You like that about him. You’d both still ended up in the car, though.

You’re silent, watching, as she scrolls through the rest of the images, no sarcasm or wit or snarky replies. And according to her, that’s only the first post. Maki, on the other hand, doesn’t quite care about the fact that you’ve been doing… things… with Sae as much as you not telling her about it. Her lips turn up into a pout as she leans back into your couch. “Shame you didn’t tell us, though…”

“I’m sorry,” you whisper. “I just couldn’t–”

Asa interrupts you. “How long has this been going on?”

Maki whistles. “Interrogation time, I guess!”

You sit down on the love seat opposite Asa.

“Well?”

“Prom,” you admit guiltily.

“Like… two years ago?” Asa sounds hurt.

“I’m sorry.”

She shakes her head impatiently. “So what about his other girlfriends?”

“We never did anything when he was dating,” you defend yourself. Even though it’s true, it still feels like a lame excuse.

“So you were like his – backup girlfriend,” Maki observes.

“Can we stop talking about it like this?” you interject, suddenly snappy. You hug yourself defensively, suddenly unable to breathe properly. You’re inhaling as deep as you can, but it’s as if the air isn’t quite reaching your lungs. Before you know it, you’re shaking, a new onslaught of tears spilling out from your eyes. You sniffle, trying in vain to wipe your tears away. But then there’s a sudden warmth surrounding you, and you feel Asa and Maki’s arms around you, hugging you, holding you close. For some reason, you’re crying harder now that they’re holding you. Asa whispers apologies into your hair, and Maki whispers, “It’s okay.”

It’s not. It won’t be, ever again.

It takes a while for you to finally calm down.

“I’m sorry,” says Asa again. “We won’t talk about it anymore. But still! The Sae Itoshi! What was it like?”

“Yeah…” you smile awkwardly. “He was nice, I guess.”

“You–”

“I’m going to sleep,” announces Maki. “You two talk or whatever.”

She turns over, and you look at Asa again, waiting for her to continue.

“You guess?” she asks, skeptically. “What’d he even do?”

“He was like a boyfriend,” you say, thinking aloud. “But also not really a boyfriend, y’know?”

“It’s one or the other, l/n, choose,” she huffs, glaring at you. There’s no actual vexation behind it, though, and you both burst into awkward laughter. It dies down pretty fast, but the atmosphere is way more relaxed now.

“It was pretty physical,” you admit. “But also we broke it off last night before he left, because it was–”

“Pretty physical,” Asa finishes for you.

“Yeah, that. It wouldn’t work over text.” You sigh, running a hand through your hair. “What’s going on? With everyone else, I mean.”

“About that…” Asa smiles uncomfortably, rubbing the back of her neck. “You’re not exactly on the right side of the story.”

“Of course not,” you sigh tiredly.

“They think he cheated on all the girls with you,” she explains.

“Of course they do.” You bury your face in your hands with a tired groan. “Dude, fuck all this. Fuck Sae, I wish I’d never said yes.”

“Said yes to what?”

You flush, dark red hues spreading and spilling across your cheeks like splashes of paint. “Nothing.”

Asa doesn’t question you, but a moment later she leans forward to squeeze your hand all the same. “Now what are we gonna do about tomorrow?”

“They won’t believe me, will they?”

Asa smiles tightly. “Uh…”

School is… worse than expected. Everyone eyes you like hawks – not just his girlfriends and their friends, everyone and their mother are staring at you, unsmiling. Even the damn teacher. It’s almost unfair, the way you’ve suddenly been alienated from everyone; even your other friends aren’t talking to you. Almost. Because you’re at fault, too. You shouldn’t have gotten carried away, whisked off into some fairytale world where you’re common folk, and he’s a prince, secretly in love. There wasn’t even love, you think, and your heart hurts because you’re so in love with him, and he’d probably been using you the entire time.

Except last night, a voice pipes up in your head. And yeah, last night had been different. But what does it matter now? He’s gone, and someone’s leaked pictures of the two of you like he’s some sort of high-up celebrity.

The voices die down as time passes by, and between taking deep breaths and Asa squeezing your hand protectively, things do get better. That’s not to say that they stop, however, and you do overhear yourself being referred to as “Sae Itoshi’s side chick” once or twice. You can’t even complain, because that’s kind of what you actually were. Minus the cheating. And there are a few outstanding incidents, every now and then.

The first one takes place maybe two days after he leaves; you’re about to dig into the shitty cafeteria lunch when someone slams their tray down onto the table opposite you. Considering the fact that Asa will be sitting with her boyfriend, you’ve already accepted the fact that you’ll be sitting alone. So you’re pleasantly surprised – or not, because the person sitting opposite you is no other than Sae’s latest ex, Mira. She sneers at your surprise, then leans forward, whispering conspiratorially. “So, you’re why he was always so distracted, huh? Fucking side hoe.”

The last part comes out as a hiss, and you flinch back in shock. She’s laughing at first, but it slowly fades off into silence when she realizes you’re genuinely confused. “What–”

“What do you mean distracted?” you interrupt her. “It’s because of soccer, not me.”

“No, it was you,” she states again, obtusely. “I know men, y/n. It wasn’t anything other than a girl, and considering the two of you’ve had some sort of fucked up situationship going on since who-knows-when…” she trails off.

“It wasn’t like that,” you plead desperately. You’re not sure why. “I liked him, yeah, but he was just looking for something that he didn’t have to stay committed to.”

“Are you fucked in the head?” she demands. “I don’t know if he was trying to look out for you in his own fucked up way by not making things official, but that man was fucking whipped. I knew it going in.”

“What?” you ask weakly.

“His mind was never in it,” she explains impatiently. “He wanted you badly.” She looks you up and down, somewhat judgmentally. “Dunno what he saw, exactly, but he did. I came here to be a bitch to you, maybe cuss you out, but you’re so pathetic.”

“Excuse me?” You cross your arms defensively, finally coming back to your senses. You open your mouth to respond with a nasty retort, but she interrupts you before you can.

“I don’t mean it in a rude way, but you seriously are. I mean, how stupid would you have to be to not notice?”

You blink at her dumbly, confused, and she shakes her head resignedly. “Never mind. I’m Mira, but I guess you already know that. I know who you are too. Wanna be friends?”

“I thought you hated me,” you say slowly.

“Long story short, I don’t.”

You raise an eyebrow.

“Not anymore, anyways.”

It really is surprising how some things turn out.

If you initially don’t trust Mira all that much at first, you can’t really be blamed. But then one day you’re cornered by two of Sae’s other exes – he has like seventeen of them now – and before you know it, she’s flying to your rescue. You don’t exactly get to hear what she screams at them, but apparently it’s enough to make them back off, leaving you alone with Mira as she smiles down at you triumphantly. She’s actually shorter than you, but those stupidly tall platforms the two of you found in the back of your closet have done wonders for her height.

And if she treats you like a pitiful homeless puppy, she’s not doing it on purpose.

Mira is a stereotypical rich girl, but she’s nice when you get used to it. And she’s generous with her money. Even when you try to stop her, even when you’re able to afford the same things without worrying about the price.

For your eighteenth birthday, she throws you a huge party; there aren’t a lot of people there but the expenses are quite high. She pays for your dress, your makeup, your shoes. She also pays for the tissues and ice cream after the party ends and you start crying because you miss Sae. You can’t stop apologizing to her, considering the fact that he’s someone she liked, too. She shuts you up with a haughty sniff and dismissive wave, and hands you another tissue.

Your nineteenth birthday, however, is when she goes all out. You wake up to exactly one notification – it’s nothing you aren’t used to now, considering even Asa’s drifted away from you now that school’s ended, and your only friend is Mira, of all people. Your parents aren’t home, of course, but the notification is from them – about $10k has been deposited into your bank account. You crack a sleepy smile. At least they remembered, even if no one else did. But then when you’re halfway through eating your breakfast, someone starts banging at your door. You open it cautiously once you realize it’s Mira, and she walks in without acknowledging you, then turns to thrust a large purple duffle bag into your arms. When you stare at her blankly, unmoving, she locks your door again, then turns to you, arms crossed.

“I hope you didn’t notice half your clothes are missing, because I stole them,” she says briskly. “The ones that aren’t yours in there are also yours now, I bought them for you.”

“What?” you’re almost disorientated at this point.

“We’re going on a trip,” she tells you impatiently. “Happy birthday, bitch.”

Maybe you are the pitiful puppy she treats you like. Because instead of protesting, you follow her silently like you are one.

The trip isn’t quite what you’d expected at first. You find yourself shuffled into a helicopter – it’s not like you’ve never been on one, but it’s still a… startling experience. You’re still clutching onto your duffle bag; you must look like an absolute fool right now. Mira’s made you change into “presentable” clothes, a white tank top with jeans. No one’s even there to see you right now, you think, so why’d she make you change out of your sweats? But then you disembark onto a cruise ship?

“What the hell?” you shriek.

Mira just smiles.

The two of you are escorted to your rooms, and you watch as she gives curt instructions to the stewards about preparations for some kind of party. Then she turns to you. “Listen up, y/n.”

You blink at her, confused. Confusion seems to be a large part of your friendship.

“We’ll be trying on dresses now. The stylists will be over in an hour, and the party starts at seven.” You open your mouth to speak, but she ignores you. “I know six hours is an awfully short time to get ready, sorry not sorry. I invited some of our old friends too.”

“Okay,” you breathe. This shit’s overwhelming.

Everything goes well until it’s time to pick jewelry. You’ve never been much of anything other than a minimalist when it comes to it, and this time there’s only one piece you want to wear. Everyone in the room’s disagreeing with you; from Mira to the stylists to the makeup artists. It’s gold, it won’t go with the black and silver of your dress. It’s too little, it’s too simple. A single heart-shaped locket on a chain looped around your neck. You shake your head obstinately. “I want this, Mira.”

Suddenly, her eyes light up with understanding. “Oh. That brat gave it to you, yes?”

There’s only one person who she’d refer to like this – Sae. You bite your lip, wondering whether to say yes or not. She narrows her eyes knowingly, and you finally nod, nervous. She smiles condescendingly, then snaps her fingers at the two women messing with your hair and clothing. “Let her have it.”

You smile at her gratefully.

The birthday banquet is exquisite. It’s much more than you could’ve ever expected from anyone. You greet your old friends with light hugs and feathery cheek-kisses, trying not to ruin their makeup. You thank everyone for coming, thank Mira for the surprise. The night passes by surprisingly fast, and around the end of the party you excuse yourself to go to the bathroom. Your makeup is smudged, and you’re somewhat tipsy from the alcohol being passed around. You splash water onto your face, then clean yourself up. Before you fix your makeup, you experience a surprising moment of weakness; you miss Sae, you wish he were here tonight. You press the locket to your lips with a quiet sigh.

The walk back to your party hall is confusing, and your feet hurt in your heels. When you reach the door of the party hall, it’s as if it’s a different one. Cheers and yells echo from within, and someone bumps into you as they exit from it. “Wrong hall,” they say, and your eyes meet, and holy shit, you must be drunk as hell because what the fuck is Sae Itoshi doing here?

“Sae?” you breathe. Your voice is unsteady — what if you’re wrong, what if he’s someone else? But then he steps into the light, and it is Sae, pretty teal eyes wide as he stares at you.

“Shit,” he curses under his breath, glancing around quickly. Grabbing your hand, he gives it a quick squeeze, then clears his throat. There's an unusually serious expression on his face. “Don't get me wrong, y/n, I’m absolutely ecstatic to see you, but what the hell are you doing here?”

“My birthday,” you whisper.

Realization flits across his face, only to be replaced by confusion. “Wait, but Mira–”

“My best friend, apparently.”

“Oh,” he replies, seeming unsure of what to say. “Oh.”

There's an awkward silence before either of you try to speak again.

“So–”

“Uh–”

“You go first,” you venture.

“You,” Sae clears his throat again. “You look, ah, pretty.”

Without your approval, your lips turn up into a smile. He makes it so easy for you to smile.

“You wanna go somewhere else?” he suggests. “I can't be seen with anyone who, you know…” Sae trails off, but you understand.

“Sure.”

Suddenly you're back in high school, fingers intertwined as you sneak away from the crowds to get a little time to yourselves. Just as you're about to round a corner, you hear footsteps approaching, and Sae tugs you into a small room, lit up only by a flickering lightbulb.

The place is cramped, and you find yourself pushed up against him. Your hand rests lightly on his chest, right above his heart, beating erratically, so fast you can’t not feel it. He wishes he could calm down, stop whatever the hell his heart is up to right now. But he can’t exactly control it, can he? So all he can do is hope. Hope that you don’t notice the way his heart spells iloveyous over and over again into the palm of your hand – the very same one that’s held him in a chokehold ever since prom, when he’d decided to indulge in your silly crush. Not that he’d ever cared about it, of course not. He was just bored. And he’s spent the last two years of his life trying to convince himself that he isn’t in love with you, that it’s only ever been a physical attraction. But then his eyes flit down to your neck – he isn’t quite sure why he looks, but it’s surprisingly bare, considering you’re the center of attention today. There’s only a single piece of jewelry adorning it, a simple gold necklace with a heart-shaped locket. Oh. Shit, he is in love with you. Not just that, he’s never been this down bad for anyone, or anything. He’d probably choose you over soccer right now, if you gave him a chance. But you won’t. Not like this, not when he’d hurt you this bad just because of his own emotional immaturity. And knowing you, you’ll probably try to hurt him back first. Revenge. Sae’s breath catches in his throat as you stare up at him, eyes a queer mixture of vulnerability and calculation.

Your head tilts every so slightly to one side as you study his face, yours devoid of any emotion. There’s something different about him, though. Has he started shaving? Maybe it’s the light blush on his cheeks. Maybe it’s the way he looks like he can’t breathe properly, or maybe, just maybe it’s his overly fast heartbeat against his chest, and then against your hand. And maybe it’s all three.

“You’ve gone all soft, Sae Itoshi,” you observe.

If it were any other day, any other person, he’d deny it. But it’s you. So he squeezes your hand on top of his chest with his own, and allows himself to smile. “Only for you, you know.”

“The fuck?” you demand, pulling away, but there’s a sly little grin on your face – you know you've got him wrapped around your finger. You’re still holding his hand – or letting him hold it, you suppose. “You actually missed me?”

“I said I would,” he says. He looks you up and down once, and holy fuck you’re gorgeous. A string of curses runs through his mind; it almost ceases to function at the sight of the fluffy black dress you’re wearing. It’s made up of a glittery black material, and the skirt is a semi-transparent tulle, floating around your legs like wisps of smoke. Even clad in black, a stark contrast to white, the standard color of purity, you’re still so angelic. You’re positively sparkling, like champagne, like sunlight. You’re bright, energy in its purest form. Your smile is contagious under the strong white lights, and still, you’re somehow glowing even brighter. Your presence itself makes him feel lighter than he has in ages. You’re pleasantly intoxicating, like a drink too many on a good night. He’s never done drugs, but he’s confident that he doesn’t need any, not when he’s already high off of the feel of your hand in his. The very sight of you right now is making his mind blank out, setting free butterflies in his stomach, the existence of which he’d never been aware.

And then, fueled by the alcohol in his system, and the way you intoxicate him, his hands find their way to cup your face. This is stupid, he thinks. He's going to fuck it up again. But then again, he'd rather risk things now than never find out how you feel.

“I’m in love with you,” he blurts, childishly. “Can I kiss you?”

You don't respond, grabbing him by the collar again – just like prom night – to press your lips together. After the few seconds it takes for him to process this, one of his hands flies to your waist, pulling you into him even more. The kiss is slow and fervent, unlike any of the ones before. It's full of everything left unsaid over the last few years, heavy with all the emotion that you've been too scared to show all along.

You're the first to pull away, albeit unwillingly. You really don't want to stop kissing him, but you have to breathe, too. Speaking of which – loving Sae is like breathing. It's easy, and natural, and you can't imagine yourself ever not doing it. Even now, you're filled with an overwhelming amount of adoration for him, tangling your fingers in the hairs at the nape of his neck while he presses soft kisses along yours, murmuring breathy promises alongside them.

“I'll come back to Japan,” he whispers. “I'll love you forever, fuck, I love you so much.”

“I love you too,” you whisper back, and it's like a secret that the two of you share, wrapped up within shy smiles and awkward grins and being in love and your intertwined fingers and you being his and him being yours.

And maybe you're smiling giddily just like back then, unsure of what to say as the two of you sneak into Sae’s cabin, and then into his bed. And like before, he's pulling out his own clothes for you to wear, and pulling you closer to him, wrapping his arms around your waist and burying his face in your hair. This time, though, he kisses the nape of your neck, and lets himself whisper three words into the comfortable silence between you two.

“I love you,” he says again, and you smile, pulling his hands up from your waist to kiss them before you say it back, a solemn, reverent whisper for him to hold and to keep.

You lie motionless in his arms, and although he doesn't know whether you're awake or asleep, he starts talking anyways, as he plays with a lock of your hair. “It's always been you, you know. From the start, every day. I was just stupid, but it's always been you, and I love you, and–”

He's cut off by a loud sniffle as you try not to cry, twisting around to kiss him. When you're finally satisfied with how flushed and breathless he is, you let him kiss your tears away too.

Sae hasn't slept this well in years.

The next morning, you pull out your phone to save his – your boyfriend's, you correct yourself triumphantly – number, and that's when you see the singular text from Mira.

Did you like my surprise?

While the text in itself is somewhat creepy, it all makes sense now – of course she would've known, considering she booked the cabins and halls herself. And possibly pulled a few strings too. You really have to thank her later.

Sae is lying with his head on your chest, playing with your necklace again when someone bangs on the door. “Itoshi, wake up! You're running late!”

“I'm busy!” he yells back, not making any preparations to move.

“With what?” demands the person on the other side of the door.

“My girlfriend, fuck off, Aiku!” his lips curve up into a smile as he sees you flush prettily after hearing yourself being referred to as his girlfriend, and he leans forward to kiss your scarlet cheeks with a laugh.