#HE HAS SUCH SHIT LUCK WITH RELATIONSHIPS

[usamey]

IM not like other girls. ID treat nathan explosion RIGHT!!!!!!!! 😤😤😤

[i-carry-the-evilmortyabel-name]

The Ship a certain Tag keeps seeing, aka a Crossover Ship: Mabel x Evil Morty

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Some created/collected dialogues that explains them:

"Nothing in nature lives in solitude, and somehow, there is some small comfort made that you are not alone in your grievances. You don't have to live lonely."

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"Both meant to be doomed, but never managed to be doomed together."

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Evil Morty: "I hate that you walked into my life, and I hate that I followed."

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Mabel: "What's the hardest part of waking up and going to do your tasks?"

Evil Morty: "Finding the will to live."

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Evil Morty: "I spent all of my time trying to find the one, but I didn't need to search for it, you were here right by my side this whole time."

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Evil Morty: "I know it would end in a tragedy, I know there's a slim to no chance of it happening the way I want it to be and I know I would repeat this whole cycle all over again. I know it won't work, I know it won't work, I know it won't work... but I have to try."

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Mabel: "Couldn't you pick anyone other than me?"

Evil Morty: "Believe me, I've tried."

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Inspired from a post "Because in a strange way, you are better at what I do without even trying."

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Evil Morty: "There are infinite possibilities where there is a happier and better version of what I am, but you still choose me, every time."

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Mabel: "You were a wonderful experience."

Evil Morty: "You were... Everything."

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Evil Morty: "Ready to face the unknown?"

Mabel: "With you? Always."

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Evil Morty: "You've seen my true self and haven't run away."

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Mabel: "They called it doom, I called it salvation."

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Excerpt from a poem "You showed me how our love can transform the darkest, coldest realm into the happiest of homes."

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"There'll never be, in another life where they're given the chance to try again, it's all gone now, all that's left are memories of what was and there'd never be room left for a what could be."

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Evil Morty: "You are my normal, my home, for now I have something to return to, and to return for."

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Mabel: "Love is the law, and your hatred is taught."

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Evil Morty: "If you wanna break my cold, cold heart just say 'I loved you, the way that you were.'"

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Evil Morty: "If there is even just a single timeline where I live long enough until my deathbed, where I am happier and safe with you, I would do everything in my power to reach for it, even if it takes an eternity."

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Evil Morty: "I want to ruin your life, and when I'm gone, an empty hole that'll never be fixed is left."

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Evil Morty: "You watch the display of fireworks, with fully focused eyes on a lifetime spectacle, while I remain a second thought, always by your side, as I watch you."

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Mabel: "Can you kiss me like in the movies with our eyes closed and like it's the last thing you'll ever do?"

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Taken from an old anime "Whatever happens, happens."

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An original quote "She is destined to be a star, she shines so brightly, when only by herself."

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So I think this was bound to happen at one point, since I've been posting about the ship since June was it? Although I'm not trying to convince you guys to ship it at all, but you can read why I do so and you can find a way to respect it and if you have like criticisms about it, maybe I can admit that it is a good point that I didn't initially have thought of or address it too.

Yes, if you aren't sure what I'm talking about in here, it's about the Evil Morty and Mabel ship, which you can say, boo what is a M/F ship doing here!!! Get it out I don't agree with this ship because it goes against my headcanons!!! Well I'm sorry to say that our headcanons don't match with each other and that's fine! You can scroll away or even block me if you don't want my art and this idea clogging your tags cause you think it's embarrassing or you dislike it overall or in general with no reason because it's your feelings. it's not something I can be in control of so I'll just respect it.

I don't care how many people see this, I just needed to write it down because it's been stuck in my head and I never thought to explain why to anyone? Kind of a missed opportunity for all these times I've been just shoving all the art of it without even bothering to stop to tell what is it about the ship I liked, so here is the compilation! I would add and edit more as I finally compiled those that aren't spoilers to my AUs and the general vibes I get with this ship.

I sent this at my discord I only added a few more details about it so here it is!

I thought their dynamic a lot like, "Oh yeah they'd just randomly talk about the most existential and philosophical topics ever and the branches to topics that are random, may be related to the real world to things they've watched and lose the original topic in the process, Mabel mostly asking the questions which prompts him to answer however and whatever he could." I had the headcanon that Evil Morty's aesthetic was a STEM student goth academia with an evil scientist mix while Mabel is more of the decora and harajuku fashion alongside chaotic academia. Their energies may not match now but with constant interaction I'd like to think they'd end up adjusting and giving as good as they get, and the type to excitedly share about the new things they find whether a realization, story or concept. Mostly enthusiastic rambling on Mabel's side while Evil Morty would phrase it as a random fact in life that is serious and needs a discussion but it's relatively the same thing, communication goals!

I'm honestly confused on how they would've pined for each other because I never thought of it, I just went "Oh yeah they're together" like established already and then proceeded with that, but then now I have to justify, and most of my thoughts are "Maybe when he realizes that just because she has this cheery persona doesn't mean that's all she is, the fact she kept helping him time and time again in her own endearing way and wanting to be his friend even though he's been spraying water at her to go away and actually tried being harsh but she just responded with a rebuttal that catches him off guard which is a "point taken", I think he'd just get tired and accept her as a part of his life now but because of that single choice he did, because he started answering back, because he started opening up, because he grew comfortable with her, she already knows quite a bit about him, and he does feel a little lonely, so why not give it a try?"

Like a "You're not that bad, you're still annoying, but you're not so bad after all." Mabel sets his perspective to a twist and that he needs to find the profound in mundane or crazy.

One argument I thought about why Evil M would consider Mabel as someone he can date, I feel, is because he also is kind of lonely, besides relating to her a lot, they're like two lonely people who banded together and because I feel Mabel is also refreshing of a take because she's optimistic but she has that realism in it too that a lot of the cartoons usually lack in, the depth, and also because they both provide balance in the dynamic, especially in growing the things they lack at, Evil M with healthy coping mechanisms and socializing with a lack of agenda, basically teaching him communication, and enjoying life and the adventures because there'll be something new on the table, like giving him a difference in perspective that he needs to hear and being mindful and understanding other people because truthfully who he knows and studied so well is Rick's mind, that doesn't mean other characters he has them figured out either, that's why he sensed a threat in Summer, also because of the fact he mostly isolated himself and 'wants to be left alone' although humans don't work that way and he can't just program it out of himself, because Rick definitely tried that before and it must've ended disastrous.

For Mabel, it's the consequences of her actions, thinking or planning forward, more realism to her own actions and responsibilities, also giving her more reason to utilize her logic than just her own emotions, she also needs someone other than just Dipper in her life that she feels she can rely on and who she finds that she has some values that she can match with though in others she clashes, basically teaching her compromise(Evil M learns that too) since the lesson wasn't properly given to her satisfactorily but I think it gets addressed in a comic, which, okay, still part of canon but it mostly gets glanced at.

Also another thing to add about Mabel and Evil M, as I did say, they match each other's freak, which means, yeah they're both fucking weird and I'm pretty sure they don't care they are weird and accept each other as being weird too. Yeah and they feel like the world would never truly understand them and they find that: "Oh a person similar enough with me but still different enough from me that I can still have something to learn from them!" Like another thing of why they liked each other so much is "Wow you understood me and listened to me?"

Especially with how Evil M is still relatively a Morty, he had issues with people not giving a fuck about him so he just did not give a fuck back but then there's a person out there that decided to actually care and not because he gave her anything, but because she thought he was interesting and thought to approach him. And so she gave him something, and I know his first thoughts in this was to possibly use her, like "Oh she might be helpful in this situation" but she's just so damn surprising and infuriating at the same time because she can fuck shit up for him(this is why he doesn't like involving himself with others, they're too unpredictable) because I think she's both oblivious and really aware of what he's trying to do.

But then he's so fucking lonely and doesn't want to admit it and not going to lie Mabel acts sorta like a Prime Morty who's both aware of the dangers of an adventure but also can find ways to enjoy life that he envies and wants to have and it's not like he wants to interact with anyone else because that would mean sharing more to more people and so Mabel could suffice.

Also most people in the real world are so insufferable especially since their perspective to him is unappealing or lacking or so close minded that he really can't find interest in any of them, but Mabel? Well she always has something to say and catches him off guard, so why not just interact with her? Then yeah they ended up getting closer and since he's like "Well I could trust you with some information" and somehow he finds that he actually could with her, since she cares a lot about her friends and that she's agreeable at times but also conflicts with him and that's refreshing to him that she isn't much of a people pleaser as the others are.

Like finding out they could go with each other through thick and thin also they're both painfully human in a cartoon like world and makes mistakes also they are actually scared children who grew up too quickly and are really just wanting to get a piece of their normal back like yeah it may be from trauma but it also is because they just found out they work so well together. Also ngl they're actually big fucking drama queens Evil Morty just doesn't want to admit that he's a cringe theater kid too. (Hmmm 4th wall break wonder what that is /silly)

Like "I could never figure you out even though we empathize with each other's experiences, and that will always make you so appealing to me on how similar we are but we're two worlds apart." They're also like Rick and Evil M dynamic, when one is lacking this the other makes up for it! That and when they make effort, THEY WILL PUT EFFORT IN THE THINGS THEY DO.

Also what I really love about the whole if they'd be in a relationship and it's because Mabel would teach Evil M about love because she has it in spades, literally out here appreciating the little things and the big things and wanting to spend time with someone, but also because he spent most of his time surviving and now he has free time to do something else well why not do something because you want it and I mean, you have all the time in the world now. And also because I feel love is something that Rick never gave him, so then him loving someone is something he can call his own, fully, and not attached to something he got from Rick. Besides you know, fucking off to somewhere else and building a civilization where his needs are met.

And Mabel is very chatty, and likes spending a lot of time with someone if she loves them, and sure she may be the first to fall in love but Evil Morty like I said, would fall in love harder, because of how much time they end up spending time together, it's like impossible not to since she takes up most of his time, and he lets it happen. He probably ended up liking her romantically anyway because she's oh so stupid and smart and gives good ideas here and there and also cause she's genuinely nice to him.

Like I'm pretty sure if I made love logical it's gonna destroy the whole point of it being a mystery and most people don't know why it's so illogical too. Literally Mabel bounces back because she got a good support system and she's emotionally more fulfilled in life and now she wants to give Evil Morty a glimpse of what she sees despite the truth being fucking harsh.

This connects to my headcanon and semi-analysis about Evil Morty in the infodump where he's basically a depressed loser trying to distract himself saying he doesn't need anyone but humans don't work that way. My earlier ideas which kick-started this one was basically me viewing Mabel to Evil Morty as Diane is to Rick as Betty is to Simon and if people do even watch the Rick and Morty Anime, Elle is to Morty Prime.

Little fun facts about them, Evil Morty has actually done several drunk driving incidents, and Mabel is based on Pinkie Pie. His nickname for Mabel is Aelita which stuck to him, but has a rather dark implication of a starlight being seen for the last time.

Mabel doesn't care if the laundry had already been done and her wardrobe is the size of Sofia the first, SHE WILL STILL END UP BORROWING HIS FEW OUTFITS HE WEARS REPEATEDLY FOR MONTHS ON END.

Evil Morty doesn't actually like cooking(he just cooks to live) but it ends up with him having to learn how to cook properly although Mabel straight up eats through almost anything(she has eaten sand, dirt, and a plastic toy before). Mabel has driven before... Let's not get into detail what happened to the poor car.

He kinda knew she liked him, it's so obvious he doesn't even doubt it anymore, he just watched her try to confess to him but it always conveniently gets interrupted by the fourth wall(it got a little tiring so he had to set things straight once and for all, they have a unique dynamic to me because I think him as oriented aroace, so his feelings are like the equivalent of queerplatonic, but Mabel has romantic attraction to him, they just kinda settled into not being official, it's just how it is and it's not like they need to confirm, they just simply are).

I think they're pretty jealous people, if they ever have anything to be jealous about, I think their relationship is so far healthy(it was a really long talk about the questionable shit he did), the only worries they have about each other is like... Logically speaking, if any one of them dies.

Also my explanation for Evil Morty's actions that may or may be debated you guys can add more information I think so. Which would be down below this paragraph.

So like we know how evil Morty isn't that all that interested in power himself, he only uses it as a means to an end in the citadel, and I'm saying this that he only likes to reach his end goal most of the time, he would do ANYTHING, for that goal, and in here, the end goal was... Clearly going to be something, because okay, Evil Morty is a little bit aimless since it's kind of working as a multiverse to him which is without a Rick, and sure he's thriving, that's exactly what he wanted, but the thing now, is that he's absolutely clueless what to do next.

He can relax, he can do that, he has peace, yes, but the itch of every human being is there, the want or the urge to complete something new, because there's always going to be a new thing they will do after the next big thing they have done, the world doesn't stop just because you completed it, and that's where Evil Morty is lost on, he's in a world without Rick as the center, now what? He can be normal now, he tried that, he tried so hard being semi normal himself, but then it never worked out. So then all he yearned now was for a new experience, he already reached the top, sure, what's the point in that?

Another mountain conquered he had said, maybe all he needed was a distraction, and more, this is like the dilemma of immortality all over again, and I just love adding philosophical topics like that. He is to just be that person who's so tired that he is desperate to escape from one thing, like desperately running away from something and sure he does it but then I feel like it would come back and bite him again. Like okay, smartass, what next to? He tries to do the things that he wanted to do that he couldn't with what Rick has prohibited or restricted him to do by circumstances or explicitly told him, but then because of the environment he was raised in, it never gets erased.

He's the Rickest Morty for a good reason, he's like Rick, I think he knows that deep inside that he is. He's still broken by Rick, the things that are in the inside, they AREN'T healed.

Anyway, it's kind of said that Rick and Morty is like showing the dark side of improvement and I really liked that aspect of the show because it isn't easy, you get repercussions even though what you're doing for is yourself, and it's not like life cares about it too much to know that you're busy for it. And this, Evil Morty is improving, but at what cost? He did everything, should he have lost instead because it felt more like a pyrrhic victory if anything. What people forget is that he's a child, living in the hands of an abuser that was everywhere in his life, everything he knew, now it's gone and over, he's free isn't he? He finds threats to himself, eliminates it, which is what happened in the Season 7, Episode 5, he got the omega device. All he wants is leverage against people and to be left alone, but because of this freedom he chased so hard.

He's just surviving, mostly, at least what most of his life is, he doesn't admit that he's bored, and tries to distract himself — going somewhere, collecting materials, he knows he can just make an endless supply of them if he wanted and if he could, I just think he CHOSE NOT TO, because then he'd have nothing left to do. He found himself in a cage in freedom, being so free it's stifling and empty, it's too free with no limitations. Give someone an instruction to create the world and they wouldn't know what to do, they're overwhelmed by what they could essentially take that they never stopped to think, well, what do they want?

And... does it really matter? I think he's lonely, like incredibly so, and maybe nihilistic too, since that's what Rick kind of taught him in life, and since he did scan many of the Ricks' brain, he definitely knows that.

He probably doesn't know why he's living either, and even though he tries to further himself away from humanity, he's always going to be human anyway. He's so unbearably human else he wouldn't have escaped Rick, be done with dealing with him, he knows he's been wronged by them too many times to count. So he left the central finite curve. He cares for himself, at least.

So he survives, even if that's the barest minimum a human should give themselves. He's been given worse cards that he's satisfied with just so little. He's just wanting to find a purpose in a harsh world that doesn't care to give you one. He's been rebellious, at Rick, at people who've annoyed him and bothered him, maybe pure spite may keep him alive, but until when he realizes, well what's all this for? I think it was a blessing, to remain ignorant, because to me it feels like, you're either the rest of everyone, knowing less, or you just end up like Rick knowing more and feeling so alienated, feeling like a God or wondering, always wondering on an answer that'll never be answered.

He's the embodiment of "I put so much effort into this, I dedicated my entire life for this, that if I fail, what else is there to do?" Does he badly need therapy? Actually yeah, most people just call him an edgy bitch but he's kind of like every human there is after finding out nobody knows what they're actually doing and we're just getting more and more information but we truly don't know what to do with it, we just try to benefit from it. That guy's worth is equivalent to the plan in motion he placed in season 1, "What am I if I couldn't do it." And "What do you mean that's all there is?" "You fool, it's always been like that."

I rest my case, you guys can just take this as you will. I guess I adored it due to the potential it had also the tropes I could link to this that I think fits a lot of those that are common or even favored by people, the most common one yet is the opposites attract! Which was one of my main ideas for this ship. Also if you know MBTI, this is also a reference to the ENFP and INTJ duo. It could be romantic and it could be platonic that you make it to be but I kinda just want to see them in a setting where they're interacting which would never happen so fanart and fandom can just carry it instead!

Also ships I have compared or found similarities in though not exactly fully similar so you can envision it much clearer through examples: Pinky and Brain, Nana and Hachi, Furina and Scaramouche, Mitsi and Victim, My Melody and Kuromi, Shadow and Amy, Robin and Starfire, Miss Heed and Dr Flug(somewhat), Damian Desmond and Anya Forger, Galinda and Elphaba, Momo Ayase and Ken Takakura, Druig and Makkari, Hades and Persephone, Kim Dokja and Han Sooyoung, Homura and Madoka, Tobey McAllister and Becky Botsford, Saiki K and Teruhashi Kokomi, Eru Chitanda and Hotaro Oreki, Mamoru Chiba and Usagi Tsukino, Enid Sinclair and Wednesday Addams, (Kinda funny) Lucy Wilde and Felonius Gru. Maybe I would add more information in the future in this same post but that's most of my thoughts on the matter. Okay byeee~

Link to their playlist which were mostly recommendations: EvilMortyabel playlist

[sockdooe]

FUCK YOU VOLTRON LEGENDARY DEFENDER!!!!!!!!!!!! I SHOULD NOT BE CRYING AT DAMN NEAR MIDNIGHT CAUSE OF YOUR FAILURE OF A SHOW ASS 🖕

[somewheremillo]

I think I may have underestimated how fucked the Titans show is

[pestilentbrood]

going to make another shitpost tomorrow that will once again be related to a terrible relationship because i need a 3x streak and also to draw more fae because there are in fact fae involved if you could believe it

[brainfilehasstoppedworking]

Takaaki: I can still hear his voice.

Beta Takaaki: Gay. Gay. Homosexual. Gay.

[arolesbianism]

Finished up the main story 👍 I didn't even have to boot anyone off the team hashtag winning

[street-smarts00]

With All My Heart

Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader

Summary: You never thought Bucky was the sentimental type, until you found something hidden under his bed.

WC: 3.3k

Tags/Warnings: super fluffy, established relationship, Post Thunderbolts*,Not Beta Read 

A/N: I’ve had this idea for weeks and finally did it. Fun fact, the Polaroids may or may not be inspired by real pictures I took of my best friend and her boyf. Also, yes I have been to the rest stop I mentioned. Sadly I live far away from them and I NEED to go back!

You felt like an idiot looking at your wrist and realizing your watch wasn’t there. 

“Shit,” you mumbled.

“What’s wrong?” Bucky asked you with concern. 

You shook your head, “It’s nothing, I forgot my watch.”

He paused, pondering while he put on his leather jacket. “I think you left it on my nightstand when you took it off last night,” he answered, pointing down the hall. “Do you want to go get it before we leave?” 

You hesitated, “You sure you don’t mind waiting?” 

Bucky shook his head and held out his hand to hold your jacket and purse for you. “Not at all.”

You smiled, handed him your things, and left a kiss on his cheek. “Thanks, be right back.” 

As you walked away the corners of his lips turned up into a soft smile. 

You hurried to Bucky’s room and upon entering a frustrated groan left you. There the nightstand was, with no watch. You searched the drawers in the nightstand and the top of his dresser, still no luck. 

After staring at the nightstand, you wondered if you really did leave it there but maybe it fell. You kneeled down next to the bed and turned on your phone flashlight. A quick scan finally revealed the missing watch. With a relieved sigh you reached for it, when something caught your eye. 

A box. 

A box with your name written on the side of it. 

Your own name was staring back at you as you grabbed the watch. With a careful hand you reached for the box and dragged it out from the bed. 

The box sat in your lap, unopened, unbothered. It was a dark brown cardboard shoe box from one of his pairs of boots. Your name was written in black marker on the side and next to it a tiny messy heart. 

Your gut is telling you not to open it. It might have been hidden for a reason. You have no right to be digging and snooping around Bucky’s things. Finding something he didn’t want found. 

But another part of you was desperate to know what was inside. That small but loud part of your brain that was screaming at you to open it. The voice kept echoing in your ears. Reminding you that your name was on it. 

Why did he have a box with your name on it?

Maybe it wasn’t supposed to be hidden. You kept things under your bed not because you wanted to hide them, but because of storage and safekeeping. Maybe this was like that. 

Maybe. 

God the anticipation was going to kill you. 

Maybe it was a present he put in there for your next anniversary, birthday, or some other reason. 

Well then you should really not open it. Don’t want to ruin any possible surprise he has for you. 

You really shouldn’t open it. You shouldn’t open it. Don’t open it. Don’t open it. Don’t open it. Don’t open it. Open it. Open it. Open it…

Your hands moved on their own. Your fingers peeled back the lid of the box and set it down on the floor next to you. 

You peered inside at the contents of the box with confused curiosity. At first glance it didn’t look like much. It definitely wasn’t a present. There were a bunch of random items, mostly paper ones. 

The first thing that caught your attention was the small plastic wristband. It was at the top of the pile. You picked it up and read the words on the side “Luna Park: Coney Island.” Realization dawned on you that it was Bucky’s wristband from your first date. When he asked you out, there was no specific place in mind yet. But when he told you an old story about him and Steve at Coney Island and you said you had never been there before, he knew where he wanted to take you. 

It was a perfect first date. The weather was clear and warm but not too hot to be uncomfortable, no doubt because of the cool ocean breeze. You went on rides, you played games. And of course Bucky spent 40 bucks to win you a blue stuffed penguin you fawned over and called cute. He was a man on a mission. And now that penguin sat on a chair in your bedroom. 

With a smile you placed the wristband back in the box and picked at the other things inside. 

Your heart swelled at the realization that most of the items were from your old dates with Bucky. There were tickets from your trips to the Metropolitan Museum of Art, Museum of Natural History and one from The New York Aquarium. There had to be at least 5 movie stubs and 3 dinner receipts from dates you went on with him. There was the playbill from the broadway show he took you to for your birthday a few months ago. He surprised you with orchestra seats. 

You dug around more and found a strip of photos from a photo booth you took with Bucky. His eyes shined as he told you about how common they were back in the 30s and how he used to always stop at them with his friends. When you both sat down he stared with wide eyes at the inflated price. 

“Ten dollars? This used to cost a quarter!” 

You giggled at his complaint, “You sound so old when you say stuff like that.” You reached for your purse to grab a ten when he stopped you with a hand on your arm and pulled out his wallet from his pocket. 

“I’m still not going to let you pay for it,” he returned with a sly grin. 

You smiled looking down at the strip of pictures in your hand. The top photo was simple, both you and Bucky smiling at the camera with his arm around you. It was sweet, peaceful. In the second photo you placed a hand under his chin and kissed his cheek. His eyes were closed with wrinkles around them from his smile. His cheeks were more rosy than in the last photo. In the third photo Bucky now had his hand on your neck as he kissed you. The fourth and final photo was of you looking at the camera, mid laugh, while Bucky had a hand on your face and pressed a kiss to your cheek. 

The machine gave you two copies of the pictures. Yours was pinned to a cork board in your room next to other photos. 

You moved on from the photo strip and continued digging through the memory box, throwing caution to the wind. 

As you flipped through the other items a shell fell from behind something, landing in the corner of the box. It was the seashell from when you walked and talked on the beach for what felt like hours because you were so engrossed in conversation with him. The water carried a small shell onto the shore. You picked it out from the water and stared at it in awe. You had asked Bucky to hold onto it because your clutch was full and your outfit didn’t have any pockets. Later that night you forgot about it. 

In fact, you forgot about it until now, weeks later. Your jaw dropped as you ran your fingertips over the ridges of the shell's surface, reminiscing your walk on the beach. His hand in yours and the

The next thing you found were the birthday cards you gave Bucky from his last two birthdays. One card was from a birthday before you started dating, and the other one was after. 

The two year old card was more basic, like you got it from the generic section of the birthday card aisle (because you did). You opened up the old card and read your own handwriting. 

Happy Birthday Bucky

I know you don’t like making a big deal out of your birthday but you still deserve a card :) 

You’re so important to this team and your effort doesn’t go unnoticed. We’re lucky to have you around. I hope you have a great day and that 109 treats you well. (Even though you’re technically not 109 haha) 

You closed it and set it back down in the box before grabbing the one you gave him on his most recent birthday. This one was less generic. You picked out one that had more design and personality. 

Happy Birthday my Love 

I am so grateful to have you by my side. You’re one of the best things to have ever happened to me. I hope you know you are so important and appreciated. I can’t imagine my life or this team without you. 

Happy 110th you old man ;)

I love you with all my heart

Hidden behind the birthday cards was a stack of post-it notes all stuck together. Some of them were old with barely any stickiness left and crinkled edges. Some were new and almost in pristine condition. But all of them were notes from you. You flipped through the stack of sticky notes and saw more of your own handwriting. 

Good morning <3

You make me smile :)

Meet me in the lounge later I have a surprise!

I know you stole my last Pepsi >:( prepare for war

I’m so proud of you 

Have a great day!

And at least 7 more that just say I love you 

Bucky must have saved every single note you left for him.

Your heart almost gave out but thankfully it lasted to see the last few items in the box. 

There were more photos. Two to be exact. Two Polaroids taken from Yelena's camera. 

One of the Polaroids was taken a few months ago. You knew it was taken because you posed for it. It was on your birthday. The team celebrated at the tower with you after the show Bucky surprised you with. You wanted to keep out of the public eye for the rest of your birthday. Spend the night with just friends. And your boyfriend of course. 

Yelena was a few drinks in, wasting her camera film throughout the night. She had a pile of photos on the coffee table that was getting thicker as time went on. Most of them included you. 

This one was of you and Bucky. Everyone was sitting on the couches playing a drinking game. You and Bob returned from the bar with new drinks. A Long Island iced tea for you and a regular iced tea for him. You plopped back down on the couch next to your boyfriend, giggling at whatever outlandish thing Alexei said. After you placed your drink down Bucky wrapped an arm around you and placed a gentle kiss to your cheek. 

“Awe! Wait, that was adorable, do that again!” Yelena exclaimed as she grabbed her camera. 

You rolled your eyes, with no real malice of course. “Yelena,” you laughed. 

“Come on, it’s sweet!” She turned the camera on and looked through the viewfinder. 

“Kiss!” Alexei shouted. 

“Pucker up Barnes!” Ava yelled from the other couch. 

The corners of Bucky’s lips turned up into a grin as he shook his head. A gasp left you as Bucky grabbed your hips and pulled you into his lap. He tightened his arm around you and placed a kiss on your cheek. Your face turned bright red as an airy giggle left your lungs. 

Yelena snapped the image in front of her. Forever frozen in time.

The memory of that night now sat in your hands as you stared down at it. There was a phantom feeling of his lips on your skin as you set the Polaroid back down in the box. 

You picked the other photo up, immediately recognizing when it was taken. Except, you don’t remember it being taken. 

This picture was taken a few short weeks before Bucky asked you out. You knew that because your hair was slightly shorter. It was more grown out now. 

The photo was of you and Bucky on the couch, taken from behind. Your back was to the camera, resting against the couch. Bucky was sitting next to you. Your attention was pulled away somewhere off camera. But Bucky, he looked right at you. 

The thing that really stuck with you was his eyes. His eyes were soft. The kind of soft that people didn't see often from him. His eyes are normally like stone. His stare, usually hard, like rock. It pierces into you. But this look on him was different. He looked at you like you were a work of art. Like he was trying to take in all of you with just his eyes. 

You've seen that look before many times. But didn’t notice it before you started dating. You didn’t realize just how head over heels he was in the weeks leading up to your first date. 

You cautiously placed the pictures back in the box, like they were delicate and fragile. 

Something else you didn’t remember was a napkin with little doodles on it. You recognized it as a napkin from a bar the team occasionally visited. But you can’t remember when you drew flowers and vines on this napkin. 

Bucky seemed to remember it. He kept it and cherished it in his memory box like it was a masterpiece you created and not some drunk sketch. 

Your heart rate slowly grew in speed as your eyes moved to a keychain at the bottom of the box. It was a small, yellow, metal keychain in the shape of Texas with a cartoon beaver on it. 

It was in the middle of the night after a short mission in Texas. You and Ava stopped at the largest rest stop you’d ever seen in your life. The rest stop had a beaver for its mascot and aisles of merch. But what made you buy the keychain for him was the name of the rest stop. Buc-ee’s. 

You almost didn’t buy it for him. This was long before you started dating and you weren’t sure how he would appreciate a random gag gift. 

“I found something for you in Texas.” 

He turned to you and hummed with curiosity. You dug the keychain from your jeans pocket and handed it to him. 

“We found this rest stop called Buc-ee’s and they have this little beaver as their mascot,” you explained, fidgeting with the loops in your jeans. “He’s literally your twin, you're both named Bucky,” you ended with a chuckle, trying to make this one sided conversation any less awkward. 

He continued to silently examine it, his right, flesh hand running over the painted metal. 

“I know it’s stupid, you don’t have to keep it,” you nervously mumbled. You reached forward to grab it back from him, 

He pulled his hand back, not willing to give up the present. “No, it’s not stupid. It’s cute,” he reassured.  

Your cheeks heated up in real time just like they did when he said that. 

He kept it. 

He kept the gag gift you got him. This silly little keychain was so important he kept it in a special keepsake box.

You almost couldn’t believe what you found. All the memories, all the stuff you gave him, all the things he cherished because they reminded him of you. It seemed like this box that sat in your lap held his very own heart and all his love for you. 

You shuffled the items back to how they were in the box when you found it. You assumed that was all there was to find in there. Until three candy wrappers fell out from between the various papers. 

Jolly Ranchers. Your favorite candy. 

You always had them on you. Kinda like an old lady that carries around hard candy. John always jokes that you’re an old woman when you grab a jolly rancher from your pocket or purse. He says you and Bucky are perfect for each other because you both have old person tendencies. 

Speaking of Bucky, because you often had candy on you, you always offered some to him. He always said yes. Here in his shoe box you saw one cherry and two green apple wrappers. 

You froze, staring at the candy wrappers. Even in the silence of his room you couldn’t hear the footsteps approaching. For a moment all you heard was your own heart pounding in your ears. 

The door creaked open. “Hey, you’ve been gone for a while. Did you find your watch?” Bucky asked, walking in the room. 

He stopped a few feet away from you. Your back was to him, the box hidden in your lap. But he knew you had it because he saw the lid on the floor next to you. 

You raised your hand and shook your wrist to show him the watch. “Yeah, I found it,” your voice sounded more hoarse than you expected. You quickly blinked away the tears that collected at your waterline right before he waked in.

Bucky took a few steps closer, and crouched down next to you. He brushed a piece of hair behind your ear. Now that he was close to you, he noticed how glassy your eyes were. 

He held your face in his hand, his thumb stroking your cheek. Your eyes fluttered close. 

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. My watch was under the bed and I found this,” you started rambling. “I saw my name. I know I shouldn’t have opened it-“ 

“Hey, hey it’s okay,” he soothed in a quiet voice. He turned your face towards his. “I’m not mad.” 

You nodded to confirm you understood. You sniffled and glanced between him and the box. 

“You kept all this.”  

“I did.” 

“Why?” 

It was a dumb question and you knew it. Yet the word still flew out of your mouth. 

He took a pause, breathing in. 

“This stuff means a lot to me. You mean a lot to me,” he answered like it was the easiest thing to say in the world. 

“After HYDRA, after all the-” he hesitated- “issues with my memory I started keeping stuff like this. To remember.”

With his free hand he grabbed the other side of your face. Bucky leaned closer, his bright blue eyes stared into yours and bore into your soul. You could’ve sworn they looked a little glassy.

“I want to make sure I remember you.” 

You lip quivered. Bucky leaned forward and captured your lips in a brief, gentle kiss. He rested his forehead against yours. 

“Can I ask about something in the box?”

“Anything.” 

“The napkin. I don’t remember it,” you confessed, voice quiet and curious. “Why did you save it?” 

“It was the team's first time at that bar. You were drunk and bored because they weren’t playing songs you liked. Someone left a pen on the bar and you sat there drawing on a napkin for twenty minutes.” Bucky paused as his lips curled into a smile. “You were so concentrated. The bar, the team, they were all so loud and distracting. But all your attention was on these little drawings. Like you were painting the Mona Lisa.”

He licked his lips, “that night I realized I have feelings for you.” 

A giddy smile snuck its way on your face before you kissed him. Slow and passionate. You poured all your love into that kiss to try and match the amount of devotion and love he had on display for you.

You pulled away, but not too far away. Your lips hovered over his. “I love you with all my heart. You know that right?” 

He lightly chuckled, “I know.” 

Bucky wiped away a stray tear that you didn’t know escaped and ran down your cheek. 

“I love you with all of mine,” he whispered, his voice soft with adoration.

[neverendingford]

.

[simpforboys]

nobody leaves rafe cameron

toxic!rafe cameron x fem!reader

summary: after a series of arguments with your boyfriend, he has to remind you of your place when you try to leave him.

warnings: toxic relationship, very toxic and mean rafe (meow), arguing, smut, cnc, dacryphilia, choking, degrading, praising, dirty talk, a pussy slap, unprotected piv sex (errr no no), creampie, angst, a lot of swearing, trying to break up, talking bad about your partner behind their back

this takes place episodes 4x1-3

tell a friend to tell a friend, she’s backkkk

he was so fucking mean.

all you and him had done in the past few months is bicker and argue.

the week had already been shitty, but when Rafe told you he was going to compete in the Kildare BMX Race, you wanted to be a supportive girlfriend.

key word: wanted.

Rafe was tuning up some stuff on his dirt bike, dressed in all black. you sat on the sand next to him, just admiring him as he worked.

it was rare for him to wear all black, and the look was driving you insane.

“you gonna keep starin’ at me?” Rafe teases softly.

“mhm.” you hummed, grinning.

the announcer came on to say there was about five minutes til the race so everyone should head over to the start.

“hand me my helmet, would ya?” Rafe asks.

you stand up, wiping the sand from your denim skirt and grab his black helmet. you hand him it, feeling his large hand come down to help wipe some of the sand off your ass.

“there you go,” he coos.

“good luck, baby.” you murmur, pressing a soft kiss to his lips.

he just mumbles a soft thank you, slipping on his helmet as he starts the bike’s engine, switches gears, and takes off over to the starting line.

➽───────────────────❥

the race had been going smoothly. Rafe was in first the entire time…

until JJ Maybank decided to jump the river bank, landing in front of Rafe.

you watched anxiously, cheering on for your longterm boyfriend. but when Rafe’s front wheel collided with JJ’s back wheel, the two guys crashed and were flung off their bikes.

the rest of the racers zoom by, causing Topper to win.

“oh, shit.” you curse under your breath, running over to where Rafe was on the floor.

“are you okay?” you ask, trying to help him up. he shrugs you off of him, too clouded by anger.

he storms over to where John B and Sarah are with you hot on his tail.

“get used to it.” Rafe grumbles, causing John B to look at him.

“what’d you say?” John B asks, clearly frustrated. when Rafe doesn’t respond, he shoves him.

“what’d you say?!” John B repeats, louder this time as Rafe shoves him back.

“get used to it! get used to it, alright? this is forever, ya’ll don’t get to win!” Rafe yells as Sarah steps in between her brother and husband.

“you could have killed each other!” Sarah scolds.

“Rafe, c’mon, please.” you ask pleadingly, tugging on his arm.

yet again, he shrugs you off. due to the sand being uneven, the small movement was enough to cause you to fall on your ass.

but Rafe didn’t notice, or, didn’t seem to care as he continued to shoot insults at Sarah.

you were now pissed as you stood back up, and then it seemed like your boyfriend remembered you were together.

he tried to wrap his arm around your shoulders for support, still aching and hurt from the crash.

you just shrugged him off, storming away.

“y/n!” Rafe calls after you.

➽───────────────────❥

he somehow managed to apologize and charm his way back into your pants the day after the race.

but when you and Rafe walked into Topper’s little celebration party at one of the villas, Topper embraced Rafe into a hug, clearly drunk from the intense game of beer pong.

“you see him? his dad shot and killed Sheriff Peterkin.” some girl mutters to her boyfriend.

unfortunately, Rafe overheard.

“leave it—“ you started, but he was already going over to the girl, who was now backing up against the wall.

“what’d you say?” he asks, the girl’s boyfriend pushing Rafe back.

“go away, Rafe.” the boyfriend grumbles, but Rafe doesn’t back down.

“no, no, if you have something to say, say it to my face.” Rafe slaps his cheek for emphasis, but Topper and you move to pull him back.

“hey, relax, okay?” you tried to say, watching him grab a bottle of alcohol and start drinking it.

“just— just get the fuck off of me right now.” Rafe says coldly, obviously pissed off about the situation.

you grit your teeth, a pit forming in your stomach as you bit back a response. but you obliged, walking away from him.

➽───────────────────❥

yet again, he managed to apologize and charm his way back into your pants, reassuring you that he’s just going through a lot of stress about the deal with Hollis.

but the final breaking point was when your father had came to you about pushing Rafe towards his teetering decision about becoming Hollis’ partner.

you immediately said no, not wanting to go behind your boyfriend’s back. so when you drove over to the yacht club Rafe was at, you found him sipping on a margarita with Topper and Ruthie.

“what about your girlfriend?” Ruthie asks, making you stop in your tracks.

it was wrong to listen in on his conversation, but a part of you wanted to hear what he had to say about you.

“who, y/n?” Rafe asks, making Ruthie nod.

“she’s not my girlfriend… we’re just hookin’ up, ya’know?” Rafe murmurs, drinking more of his margarita.

a pain started to form where your heart was, a deep frown on your face as he spoke.

“i thought she moved in.” Topper furrows his brows.

“she’s not going to move in… i would never live with a pogue, i have standards.” he explains, making Ruthie and Topper laugh.

that was your breaking point, the point where you were ready to throw the past 19 months away.

because clearly if he couldn’t even respect you to his friends, he doesn’t respect you at all.

you turned on your heel, trying to leave when you accidentally knocked into a server, causing a glass to fall down.

you swore under your breath, ducking out and leaving. but unfortunately, your boyfriend is tall, and he was able to see your head.

“awe, shit.” he cursed quietly, drinking the rest of his beverage before walking away.

“y/n! y/n.” Rafe calls out, jogging to catch up to you.

“no, Rafe! i’m fucking done!” you yell, storming to your house that was only a few blocks away.

Rafe runs in front of you, grabbing your hips to stop you from moving. “the hell you mean done?”

“are you dense? we’re over.” you snap, trying to pull out of his grip.

he clenched his jaw, laughing bitterly.

“i don’t know what you think you heard, but-“

“i don’t think anything. i know you just basically said you could never take me seriously as a girlfriend since i’m a pogue.” you cut him off, lip trembling as you wipe away a tear rolling down your cheek.

“i didn’t mean it like that, baby.” Rafe coos, just trying to charm his way back.

“no, stop. it’s not going to fucking work, Rafe. i’m serious… we’re done.”

“no, we’re not.” Rafe says, his voice dangerously low.

“yes, we are,” you spit.

Rafe roughly grabs you, pushing you into the back of his car. once you’re inside, he moves on top of you, grabbing your throat with his hand.

“you think you can just leave me?” he laughs piercingly, his face barely a few inches from yours.

you didn’t respond, causing him to squeeze your neck. “i fucking hate you.”

“no, you don’t.” Rafe murmurs, unbuttoning your shorts, pushing them down your thighs.

“stop, Rafe-“

“no, you’re going to fucking listen to me!” Rafe yells, forcing you to stare up at him.

“nobody leaves me, you understand?” he asks, his voice breathy and dark.

chills ran down your spine, your eyes wide in fear as your body trembled.

“you fuckin’ understand?” Rafe reiterates, barely slapping your clothed cunt.

“y-yes,” you whimper.

“good girl. now, ‘m gonna fuck this pussy because ‘s mine, yeah?” Rafe says, not really asking.

all you do is nod in response, hating how your clit is throbbing with need.

“you’re lucky i’m not gonna make you suck my cock right now… just wanna remind my girl that she will always be my girl.”

he’s rambling as he shoves his shorts down just enough for his dick to sprang free. he’s always been well endowed, with an 8.5 inch cock, a pretty pink tip, and two prominent veins you always loved to lick on.

“wearin’ these fucking panties… you wanted this, huh? wanted to come and try and make a fool outta me?” Rafe grumbles, pulling the pink lace to the side to reveal your drenched cunt.

you shake your head, tears forming in your eyes from the situation. you were hurt, angry, and fucking horny.

Rafe wastes no time in sliding his cock into your hungry hole, his hand tightening around your throat.

“mhmm, my girl ‘s always so hungry for me. look at this slutty hole suckin’ me in,” he purrs.

he pushes his hips until your clit is pressed against his pelvis, a few tears rolling down your cheeks with your lip in a pout.

“that’s a good girl… fuckin’ cry for me.” Rafe grunts, starting to piston his hips as he fucks you in the backseat of his car.

your hands gripped the shoulder of the passenger seat and the headrest of the back, pretty eyes fluttering shut as your cunt clenched around him.

“yeah… look at you clenching f’me… so needy for this dick.” Rafe coos, forcing you to look at him.

“open your mouth.”

you don’t oblige at first, too overwhelmed in pleasure and the fact that you’re getting fucked by the same man who just talked shit about you.

he uses his fingers to open your jaw, spitting in your mouth. “when i tell you to do somethin’, you fucking do it. swallow.”

you swallow his spit, pussy fluttering around his relentless cock.

“good girl.”

“Rafe— fuck…” you pant.

the car shook as he pounded into your soaping cunt, his balls slapping against your ass.

“tell me who this slutty pussy belongs to.”

“y-you, Rafe… my slutty pussy belongs to you.” you trembled, hand gripping his forearm as he continued to apply pressure to your neck.

“you understandin’ that you can never leave me? that you’ll always be Rafe Cameron’s whore?” he coos, his eyes dark, voice low.

you nod, body shaking as your breathing grows heavier.

“that’s what i thought… all you needed was a good fuckin’ and you’re all well behaved n shit.”

his mean words were turning you on more unfortunately, your belly tightening with each rough thrust.

but when he took his hand off of your neck, beginning to toy with your aching clit.

“look at this clit… all swollen n throbbing f’me. fuck, you’re such a needy whore.” Rafe grunts, his cock twitching inside of you.

all you could do was nod, dizzy and lightheaded from pleasure.

“is my girl gonna cum f’me?” he coos tauntingly, the pad of his thumb flicking teasingly on your hard nub.

“p-please… please, Rafey…”

he moans at the nickname, losing his composure for a second as his balls clench, trying to hold off his orgasm until you explode on him.

“come on, baby. cum on this dick.”

at his approval, you let the coil in your stomach snap. you whimper loudly, clinging onto anything you can reach as your body trembles beneath him.

your orgasm triggers Rafe’s, pussy walls fluttering around him so deliciously he has no choice but to cum inside you.

“take this cum… take my fucking seed.” he groans, hips stuttering as he fills you to the brim.

you pant, vision blurry and suddenly needy for water when you begin to come back down from cloud nine.

you pulled him down into a soft, tender kiss, panting into each-other’s mouths.

Rafe leaned forward, grabbing a half empty water bottle from the cupholder you had left there as he unscrews the cap, holding the hole to your mouth.

“drink,” he murmured.

you happily complied, the water soothing your throat.

“good girl,” he hums in approval.

you couldn’t help but clench around him at the praise, and Rafe’s head fell slightly at the feeling, a proud smirk tugging on his lips.

he knew he was training you so well, even if you needed a reminder every now and then <33.

[xjulixred45x]

I'm doing nothing right now, and to kill time (because I can't write requests from here), I decided to bring up this TWST idea that's been plaguing my mind.

A Yuu who's a parent

And I'm not talking about a Yuu who's a teenage or young parent, no, I'm talking about an adult Yuu, of legal age, who has had a job for YEARS, EVEN HAVE MULTIPLE CHILDREN!!

Who had the bad luck of being run over by the black carriage while doing something mundane like taking out the trash or coming home from work😅

Can you imagine the characters' reactions to an adult man/woman appearing out of nowhere at the entrance ceremony? Not even a member of the staff, just a random human without magic who is suddenly surrounded by teenage boys (almost the same age as their children).

An adult Yuu can probably "make themself understood" better by Crowley than a minor Yuu, since they understand the gravity of the situation and their basic civil rights, especially how to negotiate. Of course, that doesn't mean the Ramshakle dorm room is spotless, but at least it's fixed faster than in canon.

OH GOD, GRIM! Part of me thinks Grim would have more patience/respect for an adult Yuu, and the other part knows that's a complete lie. Although at least Grim seems to have more trust in this new maternal/paternal figure in his life.

Did you see how Inosuke gets when Tanjiro is friendly to him? That's Grim every time YuuMom/Dad says something maternal/paternal to him or is friendly/patient with him.

Ace is still a little shit at first, obviously, but I think he softens quickly, just like in canon. DEUCE, on the other hand, is almost immediately bland. Yuu reminds him so much of his mother that it's not even funny. If you thought these two were protective of the normal Yuu, brace yourself. This is THEIR PARENT NOW, AND THEY'RE THE ONLY ONES WHO DISRESPECT THEM>:(

Their relationships with the other dorm leaders would be just as funny and/or cute.

Riddle DEFINITELY needs a Yuumom/Dad in his life the most. Even though their first interaction was probably fatal (no parent, ESPECIALLY a JAPANESE one, would put up with Riddle's tantrums), I can see Riddle being naturally drawn to them these days.

This kid needs a father/mother figure who makes him understand that making mistakes is a way of learning, and Yuumom/Dad help make learning fun! Just like the Robinson family.

I also get the feeling Riddle would like to know the basics of the original work/world of Yuu (especially if they work in a field like a doctor or lawyer) and it ends up being a two-way street, with Riddle learning about Yuu's world and them learning about Twisted Wonderland.

Leona, another who needs someone to recognize him as his own person and not as a hindrance or a lesser version of his brother. It's obviously one of the hardest to have a positive relationship, but not impossible. Especially after Book 3, where Leona sees Yuu in a more respectful light instead of annoying.

They do the typical things you'd think of as a parent-child relationship, like when Yuu does certain things like scold Leona for sleeping too much, skipping classes, and straightening his uniform—things Leona complains about but doesn't stop them. It's a rare kind of positive attention.

Or when Yuu congratulates him on something specific they NOTICED he's improved, when they let him wander around the ramshakle dorm, etc. Let's just say it's an unwritten rule in Savanaclaw not to mess with Yuumom/dad from now on.

Azul also has a certain trick. He probably had more trouble with an adult Yuu than a student due to, well, life's advantages (any adult knows that contracts made by minors aren't valid—) and ends up having a mixture of fear and respect for them.

Fortunately, there's also a certain soft spot for Yuu, especially because of his age and paternal/maternal attitude. they probably reminds him of his mom.

For that reason, it's not unusual for Yuu to end up going to the Monster Lounge from time to time just to catch up with Azul, make sure he's not doing anything suspicious, and get something to eat. The usual.

KALIM. LOVES. YUUMOM/DAD. Yuu can barely keep up with all his energy, but it's contagious.

Jamil will have to get Kalim to tone down the intensity a few notches for the sake of Yuu's blood pressure, especially if he wants to surprise them with a magic carpet ride. they liked it! they swears! Just let them know next time!

they are also a great source of comfort after Jamil's Overplot. Let's just say that with their help, Kalim is trying to learn a few things about social norms.

Have you seen that typical mom/dad style of dress? Mothers in plain/patterned blouses and fathers in knee-length pants? Yep, that's Yuumom/dad. And Vil won't STAND IT. Practically their first interaction is picking out a new wardrobe for them. IT BURNS HIS EYES--

Aside from that, I can see Vil being genuinely flustered when Yuu criticizes his behavior, whether out of habit or because, well, parents are good at making points (and knowing the entertainment industry, very few adults care THAT much).

There's also the fact that Yuu's compliments are painfully sweet and genuine, like that "you're such a handsome young man!" meme, and Vil can't help but feel more arrogant than usual when Yuu compliments him like that. Parental stuff.

Idia ironically has a good relationship (within reason) with his parents, but that doesn't mean he's scared of Yuu at first, precisely because there's nothing more terrifying than seeing them angry.

He's also bothered by Yuu trying to get him out of his room so often, or by joining Ortho in bringing him food that isn't fast food. Damn it, he gets it!

He's a huge tsundere, which is why he hasn't banned them from Ignihide after all.

Malleus is definitely the one who most relies on Yuumom/dad's positive attention. Not only does this human lack fear of him, but they treats him like a normal teenager, with normal problems, even going so far as to scold him when he deserves it. What does Yuu care if he's a prince? He speaks to people with respect!

Yuu has so much power that he can make Malleus apologize by sounding arrogant, stop him from electrocuting people, or make him think about his actions, all because Malleus would rather put aside his ego than think that his new friend/father/Mother figure is angry with him :(

Thanks to this, Malleus goes to the ramshakle dorm even more often than expected, whether it's to tell Yuu something new he learned about the school's gargoyles, ask for advice on how to make friends, etc.

I like to think that this Yuu is very homesick for being around the kids, especially if they have children at home waiting for them. Which probably does something unusual: it causes the principals to unite to pressure Crowley to return home as soon as possible.

They have grown attached to Yuumom/dad, yes, but the thought that Yuu's children don't have their parent, that they are waiting for their return, that they are suffering, twists their stomachs.

Until then, They'll be in charge of protecting Yuu as much as possible until they can return home to their family!

__________

(ESPAÑOL)

Estoy haciendo nada en este momento, y para matar el tiempo (porque no puedo escribir pedidos desde aqui) decidi sacar esta idea de TWST que ha estado plagando mi mente.

Un Yuu que es padre/madre

y no estoy hablando de un Yuu que es padre/madre adolecente o joven, no, estoy hablando de un Yuu adulto, mayor de edad, que tiene un trabajo de AÑOS, HIJOS INCLUSO!!

Que tuvo la mala suerte de ser arroyado por el caruaje negro mientras hacia algo cotidiano como sacar la basura o volver del trabajo😅

¿te imaginas las reacciones de los personajes a un señor/a adulto apareciendo de la nada en la ceremonia de ingreso? nisiquiera alguien del Staff, solo un humano sin magia cualquiera que de la nada esta rodeado de chicos adolescentes (de la edad de sus hijos casi).

probablemente un Yuu adulto pueda "hacerse entender" mejor con Crowley que un Yuu menor de edad, ya que entienden la gravedad de la situación y sus derechos civiles basicos, sobretodo como negociar. claro, no significa que el dormitorio destartalado este impecable, pero al menos es arreglado mas rapido que en el canon.

¡AY DIOS, GRIM! una parte de mi cree que Grim tendria entre mas paciencia/respeto por un Yuu adulto, y la otra parte sabe que eso es una mentira absoluta. aunque por lo menos Grim parece tener mas confianza en esta nueva figura materna/paterna en su vida.

¿viste como se pone Inosuke cuando Tanjiro es amigable con el? ese es Grim cada vez que YuuMom/Dad le dicen algo maternal/paternal o es amigable/paciente con el.

Ace sigue siendo una pequeña mierda al principio, obviamente, pero creo que se ablanda rapido igual que en el canon. DEUCE, por otro lado, es blando casi de inmediato, Yuu le recuerda tanto a su madre que no es nisiquiera divertido, si creias que estos dos eran protectores con el Yuu normal, prepárate, este es su PADRE/MADRE AHORA, Y SOLO ELLOS LE FALTAN EL RESPETO>:(

Las relaciones con los otros lideres de dormitorio serian igual de graciososas y/o tiernas.

Riddle DEFINITIVAMENTE es quien mas necesita a un Yuumom/Dad en su vida. Aun si probablemente su primera interaccion fue fatal (ningun padre ESPECIALMENTE JAPONES soportaria los berrinches de Riddle), en la actualidad puedo ver a Riddle naturalmente atraido hacia ellos.

este chico necesita una figura paterna/materna que le haga entender que cometer errores es una forma de aprender ¡y Yuumom/dad ayudan a hacer el aprendizaje divertido! como la familia Robinson.

tambien me da vibras de que Riddle le gustaria saber las bases del trabajo original de Yuu(especialmente si trabajan de algo como medico o abogado) y termina siendo algo de doble via, con Riddle aprendiendo del mundo de Yuu y ellos de Twisted Wonderland.

Leona, otro que necesita alguien que lo reconozca como su propia persona y no como un estorbo o la versión inferior de su hermano. obviamente es de los que mas cuesta tener una relación positiva, pero no imposible. especialmente después del libro 3. donde Leona ve a Yuu con una luz mas respetuosa en vez de fastidiosa.

hacen las tipicas cosas que uno pensaria de un padre-hijo, como cuando Yuu hace ciertas cosas como regañar a Leona por dormir demaciado, saltar clases, acomodarle el uniforme, cosas de las cuales Leona se queja pero no los detiene. es un tipo de atención positiva no muy común.

o cuando Yuu le felicita por algo en específico que NOTARON que mejoro, cuando le dejan pasearse por el dormitorio destartalado, etc. digamos que es una regla no escrita ee Savanaclaw no meterse con Yuumom/dad apartir de ahora.

Azul tambien tiene cierto truco, probablemente tuvo mas problemas con un Yuu adulto que un estudiante por, bueno, ventajas de la vida (cualquier adulto sabe que los contratos hechos por menores no son validos---) termina teniendole una mezcla entre miedo y respeto.

afortunadamente tambien hay cierto punto suave por Yuu, especialmente por su edad y actitud paternal/maternal. probablemente le recuerda a su mamá-

por lo mismo, no es raro que Yuu termine yendo al Monstee Louge de vez en cuando simplemente a ponerse al dia con Azul, asegurar que no este haciendo nada sospechoso y comer algo. lo normal.

KALIM. AMA. A. YUUMOM/DAD. Yuu apenas puede mantenerse al dia con toda su energia, pero es contagioso.

Jamil tendra que hacer que Kalim le baje un par de rajitas a su intensidad por el bien de la presión arterial de Yuu, especialmente si quiere llevarlos de sorpresa a un viaje de alfombra magica ¡le gusto!¡lo jura!¡solo avisa la proxima vez!

tambien es una gran fuente de consuelo después del Overplot de Jamil, digamos que con su ayuda Kalim esta tratando de aprender algunas cosas sobre las normas sociales.

¿viste ese estilo tipico de los padres de vestir? madres con bluzas planas/de patrones y padres con pantalones hasta la rodilla? sip, ese es Yuumom/dad. y Vil no LO SOPORTARA. prácticamente su primera interacción es elejirle un nuevo guardarropa. LE QUEMA LOS OJOS--

Aparte de eso, puedo ver a Vil genuinamente aturdido cuando Yuu critica sus actitudes, ya sea por costumbre o porque bueno, los padres son buenos haciendo puntos (y conociendo la industria del entretenimiento, muy pocos adultos les importa TANTO).

tambien esta el aspecto que los cumplidos de Yuu son dolorosamente dulces y genuinos, como ese meme de "youre such a Handsome young man!" y Vil no puede evitar sentirse mas arrogante de lo normal cuando Yuu lo halaga asi. cosas de padres.

Idia irónicamente tiene una buena relación (dentro de lo que cabe) con sus padres, pero eso no quita que Yuu al principio le es mucho miedo, justamente porque no hay nada mas aterrador que verle enojado.

tambien le molesta que Yuu trate de sacarlo de su cuarto tan seguido, o que se sume a Ortho en traerle comida que no sea comida rapida ¡ya entendio maldita sea!

es un gran Tsundere, por eso mismo no les ha prohibido la entrada a Ignihide después de todo.

Malleus definitivamente es quien mas se apega a la atención positiva de Yuumom/dad, no solo este humano carece de miedo hacia el, sino que lo trata como si fuera un adolescente normal, con problemas normales, incluso llegando tan lejos como para regañarlo cuando se lo merece ¿que le importa a Yuu si es un príncipe? ¡a la gente le habla con respeto!

Yuu tiene tanto poder que puede hacer que Malleus se disculpe al sonar arrogante, evitar que electrocute a la gente, o hacer que piense en sus acciones, todo porque Malleus prefiere mil veces dejar de lado si ego que pensar que su nuevo amigo/figura paternal esta enojada con el :(

gracias a esto, Malleus va aun mas seguido de lo esperado al dormitorio destartalado, ya sea para contarle a Yuu algo nuevo que aprendio sobre las gargolas de la escuela, pedir consejos sobre como hacer amigos, etc.

me gusta pensar que este Yuu tiene mucha nostalgia al estar rodeado de los chicos, especialmente si tienen hijos en casa esperandolos. lo que probablemente hace algo insolito, causa que los rectores se unisen para presionar en conjunto s Crowley para que vuelvan a casa lo mas pronto posible.

ellos han aprendido a encariñarse con Yuumom/dad, si, pero pensar que sus hijos no tienen a su padre, que estan sufriendo, les retuerce el estomago.

hasta entonces, se encargaran de proteger a Yuu lo mas posible hasta que puedan regresar a su casa con su familia!

Shares, reblogs and comments are very welcome!

Let me know if you want me to share any more ideas I have for Yuus!

[rafesproperty]

Thinking about how Rafe would treat you each season…

Bro was tweakin’ the whole show 😭 Good luck with the mood swings

Also can you tell S2 Rafe is my fav and owns my entire heart? Ok? Ok.

» masterlist

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

Season 1 Rafe treats you horribly. Never there for you even tho you are always there for him. Always thinking about himself.

He can be nice behind closed doors but the second you are with him and his friends he’s cold. He almost acts like you guys aren’t together but if one of his friends flirts with you he throws a tantrum. Also he gets mad when you don’t give him enough attention but he ignores your messages for days.

He snorts cocaine in front of you even tho it makes you uncomfortable… but he doesn’t really care as long as he gets his high. He asks to snort it from your thighs or cleavage as well. If you say no he’ll keep asking until you say yes just to shut him up.

If you’re being all annoying asking him to drive you home he’ll just smear some on your gums.

“Shit. Alright, c’me here baby,” he mumbles and you sit on his lap as he grabs a tiny bit of the powder and uses his fingers to open your mouth. “There you go, baby, good fuckin’ girl.” He chuckles and kisses you. You instantly melt into the kiss, feeling as if the drugs effect melts your body. You’re on top of him the entire night, cuddling up to him, straddling his lap, purring when he kisses you. You’re just so good to him, so devoted when you’re in this state.

He never lets you snort it tho. And he won’t do it again for a long time. He doesn’t want you to be addicted like him.

He calls you in the middle of the night and demands you come over when he’s in the mood. He’ll pick you up but won’t give you a ride home so you’re either staying or walking alone.

He yells Kiara looks hot at Midsummers when you’re right next to him. You’re angry at him but he doesn’t care.

Probably constantly breaking up and getting back together when he has one of his breakdowns and needs you. So he seeks you out. Cries to you about his dad. Cries to you about your relationship. Promises to do better. And you always take him back.

He takes you on motorbike dates, goes way over the speed limit tho.

You are there when his dad kicks him out, he takes his sadness and anger out on you. You are there when he kills the sheriff, and you’re not running away, not telling anyone, you’re keeping your mouth shut. For him. You do a lot of things for him.

Season 2 Rafe aka the most unhinged psycho you’ve ever met is actually nicer to you (worse to everyone else… but nicer to you). He keeps you safe. Never lets you walk alone at night. He basically never ever leaves your side, when he does it’s to do something he doesn’t want you to see.

He keeps you away from Ward and Barry - especially Barry. Until you actually meet Barry and find out he’s cool and funny asf. Rafe is pissed at first but Barry is the only guy he’ll let you hang out with (only in his presence, tho).

Barry starts calling you “Mrs. Country cluuuub.”

Never lets you do drugs again. Not even a little bit. He feels bad for what he did before, smearing it on your gums when you didn’t even really know what he was doing. He won’t admit it out loud, tho. He just won’t allow it again.

He needs to touch you constantly. Hand on your back or your thigh at all times. Holding you close to him. He needs to know feel you’re there.

He swears he’ll buy anything you damn want with the gold.

He still gets mad when he doesn’t get your attention but this time he’ll just take it. He’ll force you to give him attention if he has to. Sometimes he’ll rile you up and piss you off just so that he’s your main focus.

He seeks you out for comfort when he comes to your house all bloody and beaten… whether the blood is his or not is a mystery. He’ll open up to you, he’ll talk about his dad and you’ll comfort him with sweet words, he gets so used to it. Addicted. His dad never listened to him. No one ever listened to him. But you do. He may be in love with you.

He’s possessive. Won’t let you talk to other people, will break anyones bones if they look at you the wrong way. You’re his. And he’s slowly starting to realise that he is yours, too.

“I’ll take care of you. Shit, I’ll fuck up anyone who tries to hurt you, got that?”

He’s harsh about everything he doesn’t like and especially to people he doesn’t like. You better not get in the way when he’s really angry.

He hates it when he makes you cry, but if he’s already pissed off he can’t stop himself from yelling. He never hurt you tho. Maybe a few bruises from gripping your wrist with too much force but nothing intentional.

His eyes soften when you flinch one time. That being the only time he actually somewhat calms down.

Not many peaceful moments with him given how little chill he had in S2 😭 BUT if you guys are just talking, playing with eachothers fingers in the dark and you start talking about your future he melts. You always include him. In all the details and in all the plans. He loves you. He’s sure of it now.

Wheezie absolutely adores you, she gossips about Rafe with you all the time. You guys play board games and he’ll scoff and roll his eyes but Wheezie will force him to join. For 5 minutes. Then he’s like “Fuck this bullshit” (he’s losing) and he leaves. You and Wheezie laugh at him.

He tells you everything, he tells you about how he shot Sarah, how he tried to drown her, how he almost killed Pope, how he hates these fucking Pogues so much and wants them all dead… he’s never saying it calmly, his pupils are dilated, he’s shaking, his words are mixing, he has this look on his face… sometimes he’s so scary. But you never run away from him.

His obsession with making his dad proud slowly turns into an obsession to make you proud. To make you happy. To make sure the gold is fucking yours and anyone who tries to take anything away from you two dies.

I seriously can’t stress enough how Rafe is always obsessed with one person only and does absolutely everything in the world for them. And his focus changes from his dad to you. You’re his priority now. He’ll protect you, not his dad. He’ll make you proud, not his dad. You. You. You.

Season 3 Rafe is an obsessed man. Spoils you. Takes you on fancy dates all the time. Gets you anything you like or anything he likes.

Gets you hot dresses that he’ll rip the same day. You’re actually angry because you liked that dress so he’ll just buy it again.

He doesn’t really know how to express his emotions so he’ll just constantly buy you expensive things just because he can and he’ll keep you close, cuddle you, kiss you, squeeze your waist. Physical contact all the time, basically.

You don’t really fight anymore. But if he does make you angry you’ll wake up to princess treatment the whole day. Food, clothes, jewelry, his attention, anything you want, you got it.

“Can we get a dog?”

“No.”

“Oh.”

… almost anything you want.

You are his priority, always. Always focused on making you secure, safe, happy, proud, satisfied. You don’t have to ask for anything, ever. He’s got you.

Constantly shielding you with his body when you two go out, keeping you close, thumb drawing little circles on your back, his attention on you the entire time.

He’ll take you on boat drives and just chill and make out with you out on the open ocean.

He’s so madly in love with you.

He’s loyal, pushing other people away from him, and he expects the same from you… tho you usually don’t even get the chance to. He’s scaring anyone away the second they look at you.

He doesn’t care about Ward anymore, all he sees is his pretty girl who’s been with him the whole time, through everything. His girl. That didn’t push him away when he was on his lowest. His girl, who didn’t run away from him when he killed people. His girl who makes him feel so warm and fuzzy it actually keeps surprising him.

He wants to marry you, give you everything he has, pay you back for always having his back.

[burymagdalene]

Take What You Need - S. Reid x Reader

After going full hermit mode during finals, you reach out to your relatively new boyfriend for a textbook he might be storing in his apartment. Or, Spencer putting you through his mattress for the first time as finals stress relief.

pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader genre: Smut! Fluff? (18+ pls pls) tags: Softdom!Spencer, sub reader (bet you thought you'd never see the day I did this), pet names in Russian, finger sucking, fingering (fem!receiving), established (new) relationship, your first time together, praise kink, pinv sex, creampie, teasing!!! overstimulation. wc: 6k a/n: I GOT SO CARRIED AWAY! Writing this during my finals felt like method acting. I imagine many of you are just now finishing or in the throes of finals- here's a treat!

Your head is hurting in places that you don’t even think have been identified in the anatomy of the brain while you continue to type away at your final essay. 

You had thought you’d given yourself ample time to begin and finish the essay without any stress-induced cramming. Yet, here you are, halfway through with the deadline a couple days away.

Phone on do not disturb and your social life coming to a screeching halt– you have forced yourself to go awol in order to get everything you need done.

Which worked. For a bit.

Now, you’re panicking over a Russian literature textbook you didn’t even know was on the syllabus that you’re supposed to reference in your final. 

Shit shit shit shit shit shit.

The first time you left your apartment in the last 48 hours was to check your university library for it– no dice. You drove to your local library after, out of luck there as well. Who on earth is using the 9th edition Russian and Comparative Literature text you need so horribly? They do not need it as much as you do.

Dejected and sighing from your pounding headache, you rest your forehead against your steering wheel, the sun is going down on another day without finishing your paper. Then it hits you. The biggest distraction in your life, is also the smartest person in your life. If the library doesn’t carry what you need, you might just have to put your pride aside and call Spencer.

You had promised yourself to use him as a form of reward once you completed everything, but you just have to ask him now. You can’t possibly get too distracted. 

One of your rings sounds off in your car before he’s picking up.

“Well, this is a pleasant surprise. How’s the studying?”

Even through the tinny speaker of your phone his voice releases butterflies in your stomach.

“Spencer! Hey. Umm. It’s not going very well, actually...”

“Oh hon,” his voice drips with remorse from the other line, “I told you how breaks would make it all go more smoothly than whatever guerilla method you decided on.”

You smile to yourself briefly, before a surge of emotion comes over you. Of course, he was right. Your stomach is growling, head aching and going stir crazy in your apartment these last couple of days has not turned out to be the picture perfect portrayal of self-care.

In a small voice you reply, “I know. I’m sorry. I just- I was wondering if you had a textbook I need for my final. Russian and Comparative Lit? Or something adjacent?”

“Hm? Oh, please don’t say you’re sorry. I honestly might. Would you like to come over and look with me?”

Your fingers come up nervously to play with your bottom lip, “Yeah, please, if it’s no trouble.”

“No trouble at all, Zayka.”

Whatever it is, he says it smug enough that you roll your eyes, starting your car back up to finally get to the next step in finishing your paper.

Of sorts.

Like some heightened form of sensory deprivation, once you’re stepping up the staircase to get to Spencer’s unit, you can smell his scent from the bottom of the steps. The aged leather on his clothes and hand soap he uses that clings to him all day circling around your dizzy head as you give one, two knocks at his door.

His slight stubble and loosened tie catch your eye first. You want to run a hand where the sliver of his collar bone is revealed. 

You give him a shy smile instead, Spencer pulling you into a hug in his doorway with a kiss on top of your head where he speaks against it, “I missed you. Come in, come in.”

Sighing as he pulls away you beeline towards his bookshelf. Seeing it’s a stack of differing Russian texts on the floor he must’ve pulled out on your drive over.

“Oh, Spencer, thank you. Even if it’s not here, I seriously owe you one.”

He gestures his hand in an oh stop motion and walks over to where you’re reading the spine of each ridiculously long book.

“You don’t owe me anything. Happy to help. You’ve been pretty stressed out, huh?”

This pauses your flicking through titles like a cue in your system to spill out every detail you haven’t shared in the last couple days.

A deep sigh, then, “Yeah. It’s been really tough. I thought I’d be able to crank everything out, but. I just feel so burnt out. And the library by me is always so busy that I have to study at home, and my room is a mess and I haven’t bought any groceries, I just. I feel horrible. I have this headache,” you rub your face with your hands, “I’ve been getting no sleep and my body does not know how to handle this anxiety, it’s… it like, physically hurts.”

You’re on your knees by his coffee table and before you’re finishing your onslaught of complaints Spencer is sinking to his knees beside you.

“Oh, honey. That sounds miserable. You’ve drained yourself.” His hand comes to your lower back to rub at soothingly. “You need to regulate your nervous system. Let me feed you or-”

“This is it!”

You cannot believe your eyes. A perfect condition of the exact textbook you need to finish your paper. You owe Spencer all the stars in the sky, that big beautiful brain of his. Leaning over, you peck his lips swiftly. Which was your first mistake. You always need another.

“Mm,” he hums, “I’m glad. However, I do think you should embark on whatever journey reading through this will take you tomorrow.”

“What? But I’m so close,” another kiss is being pressed to his soft lips, “I just. I just need to-”

The way he’s looking at you. The pressure of his kiss lingering on your overactive mouth. The warm light of the lamp coming from his bedroom. You know if you keep pressing, you actually are going to have to leave, Spencer not being the type to force you in any capacity. 

You have to shut your mouth.

Spencer pulls your hand into his, lifts up to press a kiss to your knuckles, “Well. If you got everything you need…”

A panic-inducing sentence. 

“I d-didn’t.”

“Oh? Is there something else-”

“I, um. What did you say earlier? On the phone, in Russian. I… was wondering, actually.”

His lips pull into a genuine smile, one that makes you ache. You missed it so much. 

“Ever so curious. It just means bunny, it’s a common nickname. Could also translate to baby.”

Embarrassment heats up your neck. 

“I’m not even! I’d argue I’m more of a cat than anything else.”

“Hm. Kotik. I’d disagree though. I could practically hear the scrunch in your nose when you called me.”

“Ugh! Whatever. What does that make you then?”

“Whatever you want.”

Is he doing this on purpose? Is he being extra impossibly irresistible because he’s trying to make you stay or because of your distance from him? Either way, you hold your breath. 

“I-if I’m a bunny you have to be one too, that only makes sense.”

“Of course. Cross-species breeding can get weird.”

He has to be doing this on purpose. You haven’t done it yet. But Spencer is no stranger to working you up. The pet names, the fucking insinuations. Spencer is nothing but careful with his words around you. He’s being a tease out of his own volition. 

Knees starting to get achy where they’re pressed into his hardwood, you shift a bit. Nothing more than a shift, but given the context, lets Spencer know exactly what’s keeping you chained to his apartment. 

“Um. I think I’ll stay.” you blurt nearing a socially awkward delivery as you break his eye contact.

“Oh thank God,” he laughs out through a sigh of relief, “I don’t think I could’ve morally let you go home.”

“I just think I deserve a little break.”

“Mhmm,” Spencer rubs your jaw lightly with his thumb, “you’ve been working so hard, you deserve more than a little break.”

“Yeah? What should my big break be? Travel somewhere warm… should we go to Mexico?”

“I’ll take you to Mexico. You look so exhausted I’d just about take you anywhere.”

You giggle and nuzzle your face into his shoulder. “How about your bedroom?”

Not even having to look up to see it, you can feel the way his eyes widen. Having made out with Spencer a fair share on his couch, more than playful sleepovers at your apartment, and even an instance where Spencer had fingered you under your skirt in the parking lot of an AMC (before turning around to drive back home, skipping the movie) you’ve built up enough confidence to tell him you’re ready to feel him this way now. 

“Wh- yeah. Yeah, course.”

With Spencer’s whole neuroses around germs and “outside clothes on the bed” you actually have not gotten the privilege of laying down in there. Sure, you’ve picked through his closet and rummaged through some bedside books, but nothing wrapped up in his silky white sheets.

Your knees feel wobbly as you stand up before Spencer, gazing softly down where he’s criss-cross on his floor. He smiles up at you softly, reaching his hand up to rub your hip with his thumb over your jeans.

“What should I do to help all that stress?” He trails off, if spoken by another person, this could seem like a bit of a sarcastic remark, but Spencer continues to live and breathe sincerity.

Laughing slightly you shrug, “Come up here first, please.”

Sluggishly, Spencer gets up on his feet, his hand remaining on your hip now that he’s face to face with you. 

After kissing you gently he rubs his nose softly against yours, “I could give you a massage- you know stimulating the parasympathetic nervous system will help your cortisol levels a lot. You also just seem tense, sitting a lot in front of your laptop?”

“I mean,” you laugh and kiss him while pausing your sentence, “I’d like that. But. I want you in a different way. More than that... ahem, in your room.”

“I kind of just wanted to hear you say it.”

Once Spencer was able to pry his hands from your waist and lips from your mouth (with difficulty, he really missed you) he takes your hand into his to walk to his bedroom.

Of course you’ve been in here before, but right now every detail in his room; every book on a desk, every folded line in his bedding seem to have a shining glow around them. Through rose-tinted glasses Spencer's belongings cast an easy feeling over you. 

Being led to the bed you’ve never been in doesn’t incite any fear because you’re so familiar with the surroundings. Already in-tune with him and how he’s so particular about the things he owns, proves just how encapsulated by all-things-Spencer you are right now, completely safe and in your element. 

Warm hands bring your arms around his broad shoulders, kissing you against his bedframe. The cool carved wood pressing indents into the back of your thighs as you allow your full body weight against it. 

In your school-induced mania, you’d nearly forgotten how obsessed you are with kissing Spencer. His pillowy lips against yours, tasting him. He’d nearly get irritated at you for kissing him too hard in public. Now, after locking yourself away you're savoring how his tongue skims your bottom lip as he’s asking for access into your mouth. 

You whine and pinch your eyebrows together when he slightly pulls away to talk, “Darling, you’re so lovely, so beautiful,”

Pouting, you pull him back in by his collar. Before, you had been so adamant about focusing on your work and now you’re falling fast into the mess of hormones he typically makes of you. A total 180 in the past hour.

Allowing yourself to give into what has been simmering the last few days has you jittery and clumsy. Tightening and loosening your grip on Spencer’s shirt you’re tugging him closer and pushing him away when the whining from your throat becomes too embarrassing. Desperate and determined.

Your open-mouthed whining is coming from an understandable place though. Mouths melding together and a taught thigh wedged between your legs, you’re losing yourself in the way he tastes. 

Spearmint toothpaste that you both use on his breath. The shared taste you two have after you bought Spencer’s (out of a moment of weakness) when you happened to run out of your own while he was away on a case. A girlish, silly pining that now has your eyes rolling back as you taste yourself on him and consequentially, Spencer on you as well. 

Spencer curls your tongues together, grabs your hips flush against his and you whimper out a small final plea of a moan against his lips before he’s pulling away again.

“You’re being a little siren,” Spencer grins and places a kiss underneath your jaw where he knows you’re the most sensitive. 

“Sorry- was I? I missed you so much,” you trail off and kiss the warm skin of Spencer’s neck before he pulls you off him slightly.

Unabashedly staring directly at your bitten lips while replying, Spencer falls into an easy grin, “Don’t say sorry. How many times have I said I love your sounds?”

Shame creeps up in a gentle heat across the back of your neck, “Um. Too many!”

You get a simple tsk from Spencer in return. Not having the energy to argue with you over the shyness around moaning, he settles on a simple noise of disapproval.

Gently taking both of your wrists, he pulls you up from where you were propped against his bed frame and maneuvers you till the back of your knees are being tickled by his lush bedding. Maybe it's a tickle or just your skin's hyper awareness of what's to come.

Having tasted him earlier, there has been a discovered pining demand for Spencer you cannot keep at bay anymore. His sweet lips, a sugary glaze to the sour week you’ve had. Like the time you licked a dribble of honey off his finger when he was making you a cup of tea and you had to perch yourself on his lap for an hour kissing him senseless. You have no control over that dam inside you once broken. 

Cradling the back of your head while he guides you to his bed, you instinctively wrap your legs around his narrow hips, hoping to do anything in your power to keep his body weight on you for as long as humanly possible. 

“Babe- baby,” Spencer whines out, having to wiggle away from your grasp if any clothes were to be shed tonight, “let me undress you, please.”

Fine, you think, separating for that, should be livable.

Teasingly, Spencer rubs his hands up and down your waist, pulling your shirt up slowly as he massages into your skin. A wiggle in your hips has him smiling in acknowledgment but continues to toy with your top.

“You’re giving me goosebumps,” you pout.

“Good goosebumps?”

“Mmf. Yeah.” You turn to hide your face defiantly into his bedding.

“Always good goosebumps with you.” He smiles and pulls your shirt off, wiggling and arching your back, you help him even through your faux sulking.

Spencer’s sheets meet your bare skin (no bra, you couldn’t manage something so menial during your studying) and glide over your torso like a flat pebble skipping over a lake.

The seam of your jeans between your legs are pushing into your center as Spencer’s thigh remains pushing in small intervals while kissing over your chest. Approaching an overwhelming stimulation, your hips writhe as you grab silently at Spencer's tie. 

“T-take my pants off too, Spence, wanna feel you.”

“Aww,” he pulls up from your chest, “they look so good on you though.” He relents still, sitting on his knees as he fiddles with the band of your jeans.

A playful flicker in his eyes and he’s gently pulling up and down at it. You scrunch up your face, subconsciously aware of his bunny comment, and grab at his wrist. Only a small fuck falls from your lips.

“Mm, too much, huh? I’ll get them off of you, my love.”

Your hands reach up to tug off his barely knotted tie to fling it off while he slides the rough fabric down your legs, placing a kiss to a bruised knee on the way. Once your jeans are making a home on his floor he continues moving down further so he can take off your socks, kissing over the fabric of your panties.

You giggle a little, they’re not your sexiest, moreso cute; cotton with a little bow. 

“These are my lucky panties.” You explain through your laugh. 

“Yeah? Did you put them on in hopes they’d help you find your textbook?” His hands are holding the sides of your thighs now and he bends down to take the small bow between his teeth tugging up before letting it go in a snap against your belly.

“Mm-mm. I just decided that now.”

“From now on they’re your lucky underwear?” He looks up at you between your legs with a lopsided grin.

“Yup,” you pop out the “p” sound, “but you can still take them off even though they’re lucky.”

Spencer hums into a kiss against your inner thigh, “This is great news. May I?”

“Yes, you may.”

You can feel how wet you are by the slight resistance there is while peeling your panties off. Spencer hasn’t made you cum in quite some time, busy schedules and all. Now with finals, you can’t even remember the last time you got yourself off. The dripping into your panties reminding you of how long it must have been.

All that time not thinking about it is catching up to you as you feel more deprived than you have in your entire life.

“God- Spence. I want it… really bad.” These are the begging eyes you give him when you have to pull out your biggest trick in the books. When you’re making him drive you to the mall or begging to leave a hickey on his neck when he has to leave for work in thirty minutes.

Safe to say, they work pretty well.

“Baby, you can’t look at me like that,” he laughs, “I’m not in any mood to tease you.” His voice fills with a teasing tone anyway, the dirty liar. “You’ve been through enough already, huh?”

“Mhmm…” Your affirmation melts into a hum of pleasure as Spencer very gently runs his thumb over your entrance. With the coat of your slick on the pad of his thumb, Spencer brings it up to his mouth for a moment before sucking it off. You can’t help but shoot him a jealous look as your thighs close to rub together.

“Needy,” Spencer mumbles while pulling his thumb out, shifting up towards you so he can bring it to your lips. Sucking in happily, you bite down gently on his thumb, smiling around it as you hear a little groan coming his way. 

Thumb now covered in both of your saliva, he uses it as extra lubricant to rub circles over your already wet clit. Another reminder of how long its been hits you with how you already feel close. With just a few circles on your clit, you’re already clenching around nothing, hoping to be filled.

A squeak topples from your throat as Spencer switches his thumb to two fingers against you.

“Y-yeah, like that-”

Spencer is your boyfriend- he’s sweet and attentive and genuine. But he is also evil and horrible. He takes his hand away.

Your shocked gasp makes him laugh and move to nuzzle his face into the crook of your neck.

“I’m mean. I’m sorry I’m sorry,” his laughter tickles your neck, “you’re so much fun to tease.”

You can barely hear him, not laughing along. Solely focused on wiggling under his weight, trying to gain any more friction on your clit.

No fight left in you, you want to politely take what Spencer gives you, but a slight panic fills your mind at the thought of having to wait much longer.

“Please- I’ll be good…”

“I know angel, you always are for me.”

Before the praise can affect you to its fullest potential, his fingers are returning against you. Three of his long perfect fingers dance across your clit as it thumps pathetically against them.

“Mmm! Shit, thank you, thank you-“ you babble softly. 

“Want them inside?”

“Uh-huh!”

“Really?”

“Really!” 

You’re not above this. Giving into every prompt easily as if you’re made for it. With all the planning and studying and working this week you have no issue with surrendering control over to someone else for a change.

Spencer flips his wrist so the inside is towards you and he’s positioning his ring and middle finger against you. You’ve never felt so spoiled, your clit is still throbbing painfully the second he removes his fingers to put them inside you, you never can get enough. 

The stretch of two fingers has you preening, accommodating his digits in a way that makes you so excited for the stretch of his cock soon.

“God, I missed this,” Spencer pants, “you’re so stunning, so warm.”

You allow the new wave of wetness to pool around his fingers with little to no guilt. If he says he likes it so much, what’s a little more?

He curls his fingers up and your jaw drops. He can find your sweet spot faster than you or any toy you have can and it makes you hate him and love him more and more each time. Moving languidly, you perch yourself on your elbows, wanting to gaze down between your thighs. 

Your eyes trail to the soft skin of his inner wrist, pretty blue veins, the network of his life, on display as they lead down to where you’re the most sensitive. The snap of his slender wrist as he speeds up, goes deeper and deeper until your hand instinctively comes down to pet your clit in tandem with his thrusts. 

Pushing your hand away, Spencer replaces it with his hand that’s not working at your g-spot, silent with his full attention on making you cum. You appreciate this, but if he’s trying to tip you over, he’s going to have to keep talking to you in the dirty sweet way he’s mastered.

“B-baby,” your voice is shot, “talk to me, talk to me.”

“Mm. My pretty baby-”

“Can you call me that again… t-the Russian?”

Bending down and dragging his lips across your neck he hums out, “Moy Zayka,” coming up he traces his tongue against your bitten lips, “Say it…”

Two bats of your wet eyelashes and you’re muttering “Zayka,” in the softest voice you can muster, shyness drying your speech.

“Mhm. Good. Sounds so pretty coming from you.”

“God, don’t talk like that or I’ll cum right now, fuck.”

“You said-” he begins, but you cut him off with a moan. “Sorry, sorry, you’re right.”

Five more seconds of Spencer's warmth radiating off him along with the sensation of his taking you apart between your legs and you realize you have to warn him you’re about to cum. Like seriously, about to.

“Spence! Close!” You muster, legs shaking slightly as proof.

“Yeah? Good girl.” He continues his movements until black spots dance behind your eyelids and you’re coming hard against his fingers. 

Working you through it until your chest is rising and falling, he takes his fingers out, but two fingers remain on your clit.

Shit. All that fucking begging got you here.

Moans increasing, your thighs clamp together around his wrist. Trying to stop him, but just making the sensation more intense. You gasp and try to open your legs back a bit. It’s torture, but it’s the least you’ve been able to think in the past week, which is exactly what you needed.

Sitting back on his knees, dick making a tent in his trousers, Spencer smiles at you squirming. “You okay?”

Are you? Yesyesyesyesnononono. You find yourself nodding anyway.

“M… ‘ore.”

“What’s that?”

Toes squeezing, your clit starts up that heartbeat again, reviving itself at his words. Ready to cum again.

“More!” You whisper, hoping he won’t ask again.

Spencer kisses your knee sweetly, rubs his cheek against it. “You’re doing so well. Really, making me so happy.”

Your entrance flutters at his words and the overstimulation has gotten to a point of just brain melting pleasure, and your legs fall open easily, allowing him more mobility once again.

The second time you orgasm on his fingers today you’re jolting upright. Hand pressed into the mattress while the other one clamps over your mouth as you tremble watching him rub your clit and pull away at the first whine he hears from you.

“Holy shit,” You sigh out, head falling down to his pillow.

Spencer’s face to face with you again, kissing your heated skin gently. 

“How are you feeling? Can you give me another one? We can stop here, sweetie.”

“Noooo,” your lips spread into a grin at the thought of coming around his dick for the first time. How good he must feel, how it will literally melt your brain into a puddle. “I want you-”

He kisses your lips like he would when picking you up to take you to dinner. Sweet and innocent like you weren’t just painting his fingers with your release. 

You trail a trembling hand up to begin undressing him. A shameful fumble with one button that takes two times as long to unbutton than it normally takes you. Spencer’s hands cup yours to steady them and finishes off the rest of his buttons with ease.

Maybe that’s another reason to call him Dr.- the steady hands he usually has. Unless you’re giving him head, but he definitely wouldn’t be experiencing that during a procedure. He’s also not even that kind of doctor. Maybe you’ll ask him to roleplay-

You look down and Spencer is in his underwear. You could thank God. His dick is the hardest you’ve ever seen it and it’s still under its confines. The tip has leaked enough to turn the fabric slightly see through and you can make out the details of him. Your mouth is watering. 

Without a second thought you trail a nail over his bulge. As Spencer sucks in a breath you snap the band of his underwear against his lower stomach, causing him to suck in his lips and his dick to twitch.

Almost as affected as you are, Spencer breathes shallowly and looks at you expectantly till you’re lowering the band and revealing all of him. Thick and long and covered in his precum you immediately grow hazy, giving him a few pumps to gauge how he might feel inside you. He’s going to split you open.

Spitting in your hand (not that you even needed to, he's already wet with precum) you continue to jack him off, his stomach curling in when you shift into a reverse grip on him and stroke his head a few times. His hands finally grow shaky as they reach down to stop you from making him finish too fast.

Momentarily Spencer stands by the bed to remove his underwear fully, you watch his dick as it bobs in the air, wanting to give it a steady place to move into until it’s-

“Spence, please.”

“Yeah, pretty.” He nods in understanding, his tough resolve breaking down more now as he also realizes how you’re going to feel around him for the first time.

Laying down, he positions himself between your legs. He wraps his arms around your head pulling you into a kiss before moving them to cage you in while staring into your eyes. You’re trying to keep eye contact but you can feel his cock brush your stomach and you could die.

“You still want this? You’re not feeling dizzy or anything?”

“Y-yes. Not dizzy. I just really want you inside.”

He laughs and kisses your neck, “Yeah. I really do too.”

Warm palms are positioning your hips against his bed and move to break you apart. He swipes his dick, wetting it with you, before he makes any moves to penetrate you. It feels really good- you’ve heard your friends mention it, but this feels… super good. 

Going down to collect more wetness, he draws his head back up to circle your clit again. It’s probably a form of torture for him- but with the way you’re nearly giggling with pleasure, he figures it won’t hurt to do it a few more times.

“Baby,” he shudders out a breath against your forehead, “This feels really good, but I’ll cum like this, and I’d rather it be inside you.”

You laugh and wrap your hands around his neck (Spencer is polite enough to ignore the way you squeeze it slightly), giddy with happiness.

“Kay. Can you fuck me like that until we both cum next time, though?”

The way you say it, so conversational and wholesome makes Spencer clear his throat. You’re going to be the death of him. 

“Anything you want, angel.”

Then he’s moving his head against you with intent. Eyes flickering between where he’s entering you and to check your face for pain (which remains in a blissed out expression throughout the entire thing). 

Pushing the tip fully in, both of you gasp with a newfound lucidity that hasn’t overcome you since you were in the living room. There could be a LED light sign on both of your foreheads that flashes oh fuck in pink shining blinks with hearts surrounding it.

“Oh baby-” He whispers over your repeated ah, ah, ah’s.

“F-feels so good,” You squeak out, knowing he’s gonna be a worried mess to make sure you’re not feeling any pain.

With that confirmation he allows himself to rest his head down, chin against your forehead as he moans into your hair while bottoming out. The stubble is sort of scratchy against you but in a way that’s beckoning your legs open wider.

Your legs automatically wrap around his hips to keep him at the deepest point, wanting to feel the way he’s first opening you up forever. Lips gasping and closing to place a kiss at your forehead he whimpers out, “Baby, gotta let me move.”

So you let him move. You would probably do anything he suggests right now. A comical dizzy swarm of birds circling your head with a dumb smile on your face. He wants to move, your legs spread open on the bed. He wants to cum inside you? You’re gonna let him.

His first thrust punches the air out of your lungs. You make a note to yourself never to spend longer than a day away from him again. Then, another note to do this every day with him the rest of your life.

Spencer repositions himself so that his arms are straightened, alleviating some of his weight off you (sigh), but allows him to move into you at a better angle. 

Moaning, you turn your face to the side, looking at the inside of his wrist again. The intense thrusts combined with his delicate skin and fragile veins right there, you get dizzy. Shifting a little, you place a kiss to the inside of his wrist. Then another, a wet mess of a kiss that delivers the message of complete infatuation. 

Spencer groans and realizes how far away from your lips he is right now and moves to his forearms again. He pets the top of your head and whispers into the air, “You feel so perfect- just like I thought. You’re so perfect everywhere.”

In his vulnerable state, you’re right in front of his perfect, untainted neck, and you want to lick and suck at it to work through the mind numbing pleasure, like it would ground you to reality. Usually, he needs more coercing, with the team and all, it’s very hard to hide hickeys. Yet,

“Spence, baby,” you whine, putting that lilt in your voice that tears him apart, “can I kiss your neck, please?”

Immediately, “Yeah, honey, take what you need.”

And your tongue immediately licks a stripe up his skin, salty and sweet with sweat. Sucking the skin between your teeth you leave a fresh deep mark for him to parade around the next few days. You say sorry in your head looking at it, but it doesn’t make it to your lips.

He laughs and shakes his head, knowing exactly what his skin is going to look like tomorrow and in retaliation he moves your thighs overtop his shoulders, hitting a spot inside you that has your mind fuzzing. 

Your hips thrash a bit, not used to being unable move and wiggle around the pleasure like you typically do. Especially with this new stretch inside you, you’re keening.

“That feel good, baby?”

Your eyes squeeze shut, “God. Yes.” 

“Tell me I feel good.”

“Spencer,” you whine, dragging out the syllables, “you feel so good. Fucking me so good.”

He moans high, then, “Now, tell me you love me.”

With an even smaller pause than before, “Fuck, I love you.”

“Mhm. Again.”

“Baby- I love you-” You whimper out, realizing instantly he’s about to make you cum once more.

“I love you.” He replies gently, juxtaposing his thrusts again, which are now growing sloppy with his nearing orgasm.

Pulling him into a harsh kiss, you pull his bottom lip between your teeth, trembling with his skin between your jaws. Having the power to draw blood but keeping yourself at bay. Ever a good girl for him.

Without having to ask, he brings a hand to rub your clit again. You let go of his lip with a groan, head falling back against his pillow with your back arching into him.

“C-can I cum?”

“Of course you can. Baby, ‘need to feel you coming around me, I know you feel so good.”

Who are you to deny that? Biting the inside of your cheek, you're coming for him again. It’s better than you could’ve imagined, the unstoppable stretch inside you while your walls flutter for reprieve around him. Better yet, Spencer is spilling into you. 

You whine high in your throat feeling him cum inside you, somehow making more room for this alongside his cock inside you. Overwhelmed, you grab for his hand, he interlocks his fingers with yours instantly, a whimpering mess alongside you.

When his hips are still against yours, you cannot think a single thing, you only feel. The slow slow slowness of him pulling out of you with a pop. The drip of his cum out of you like a sedative. The kisses against your face and lips.

Nails scratching lightly at the base of his neck convince him enough of your coherency, nothing to panic over. Spencer is giving you space to be fucked out of your mind.

“My sweet, pretty bunny, I wanna clean you up. Can I? I’ll be gone for just a moment.”

You groan, that does not sound like something that should happen. 

“Coming with…” You mumble, barely legible.

Spencer laughs, “Yeah. Right. You’re not walking on those two legs again today. See? I’ll run.”

You smile back and close your eyes, shooing him away with a wave of your hand. He’s right too, you barely even notice the time pass before he’s back with a warm rag.

He’s cleaned you up, positioned you to lay on top of him and is pulling teasingly at your earlobe, muttering something about a takeout order he placed for you both.

You eat cuddled up on his sofa, watching some new space documentary perched on his lap. You’re sitting right by the textbook you pulled out earlier and you haven’t even noticed, your essay so far from your mind that the only thing you could possibly learn right now is the pattern of Spencer’s breath against the back of your neck.

[wholemeallbread]

... WAIT, HE'S TAKEN? / ꩜

you and bllk boys "accidentally" revealing your relationship to the public

with ... isagi yoichi, yukimiya kenyu, itoshi sae, shidou ryusei x gn!reader

HAIR CLIP ꩜ ISAGI YOICHI

bickering with isagi before a game was always funny. no matter how much he tries to ignore your distractions and focus, he was too in love to not give in to your cuddles and banter. while pretending to be annoyed, you managed to sneakily trap the sprout on the top of his head with a clip, staying silent about it (along with the help of other teammates) even when the team was starting to walk out to the pitch. he knew something was off with how many stares he was getting that always seemed to drift upwards, and it wasn't until nagi cluelessly pointed it out did he discover the cheap plastic in his hair. maybe he could get away with saying it was one of his fellow long haired teammates? (he threw chigiri under the bus)

STICKERS ꩜ YUKIMIYA KENYU

yukimiya is a huge standout when he's usually the only one wearing glasses. he can't help it, and he has no other option; eye contacts are too risky. he trusted you enough to take care of them while he showered, but they returned to him slightly... customised. tiny, puffy stickers covered the sides and around the lenses, with a clear effort to not put them directly in the middle. they are kind of disturbing his vision, but he was confident enough that he could win this match with his eyes closed.

BEADED BRACELET ꩜ ITOSHI SAE

photographers were working overtime trying to figure out what the chunky letters on sae's new bracelet were trying to spell out. all images taken while he was on the pitch were blurry or half hidden by his sleeve. many believed it spelled "itoshi", but with this combination of letters, it wouldn't make sense. it wasn't until a press conference when he went to scratch his neck, revealing your name for everyone to see that the media realised he had a significant other. cameras were flashing, his pr team was panicking, and him? he didn't give a single shit.

DYED HAIR ꩜ SHIDOU RYUSEI

you told shidou time and time again to not do anything that could jeopardise or reveal your relationship. yes, he has tried to get your name tattooed on his throat. yes, he has tried convincing you to allow yourself to get dragged out of the audience so he could give you a kiss for good luck. it's almost a miracle nothing has happened yet – but he had an even better plan. you were excited to see him play as always, only to notice something odd; one half of his hair's pink tips were dyed a different colour. it didn't match the uniform or the team, so why did he dye it? simple. it's your eye colour. half was his, half was yours! maybe he wasn't kidding when he said he wanted you to be "a part of him".

[suiana]

fellas, have you ever wondered if a man could ever be as adorable and cute as a baby kitten? well now you can experience and love on in real life! suiana presents to you innocent! yandere and smitten reader ❤️

your very own innocent boy who doesn't even know what NNN or OF means. his instagram feed is full of baking and and clothing ideas, he goes out to help stray animals, and he goes on daily walks to the park to reconnect with nature. he has no idea what a skibidi toilet is, brain completely nourished with the books he borrows from the library. yeah, this guy smells like bread and cookies too btw, he does lots of baking. and cooking. have i mentioned he's completely skilled in the kitchen? yeah, he is.

by some stroke of luck, you meet him one day and... look, he's just the cutest thing ever! i mean, he's fashionable, smells good, and was even defending a stray dog from being bullied by some kids. so you ask him out on a date, but the second you ask him the question you swear you could just die on the spot... because tell me why his entire face is red and he's genuinely so happy??? all smiley faced and blushing like a tomato???

oh it's his first time getting asked out and he's flustered??? he's never been approached by anyone before??? he thinks you're really attractive and he would like to go out on a date too??? oh my god guys, he's even asking if you're comfortable with him rambling like this and not trying to get too close without your consent😭

anyway the two of you go out on a date and you think you just might marry him on the spot with how much of a gentleman he's being??? INSISTING on paying for your meal, respecting your distance and being genuinely curious about you on a deeper level. no mention of hooking up, being casual fwb or anything like that. he's... actually looking for a serious relationship unlike your previous partners? holy shit? so you asked him his thoughts on cheating and some other stuff...

"so what are your thoughts on cheating?"

"cheating?"

"yeah, like when you get with someone else when you're dating."

"isn't that illegal?"

HELLO??? he thinks cheating is ILLEGAL??? you had to spend the rest of your date trying not to cry or hug him because he ended up finding out some devastating news.

"yes... cheating is illegal unfortunately."

"I don't know why. it should be illegal, that is a very bad thing to do 😦 do people actually cheat? really? no way."

UGRHGRGR you two end up dating and he's the sweetest guy you've been with. cute date nights, reassurance that you're perfect and enough, handmade gifts and deep talks into the night that deepen your bond together... the only problem is just that maybe he's a little too sweet.

he's constantly buying you gifts, telling you how much he appreciates you and just... being the perfect boyfriend? the perfect clingy boyfriend.

at first you found it cute. but...

why is he so in love with you? why is he so nice? you don't know what to do with a man as sweet as him and can only give into his seemingly harmful actions. you used to think that he had an ulterior motive but... you don't know whether you're being deceived or not. why would you? he's not being manipulative. how could he ever be manipulative? he's just a sweet and nice green flag!

asking you to always be with him? that's just a romantic thing everyone else says. chasing away any people who shows the slightest bit of interest, even if it's not confirmed to be romantic? what kind of boyfriend would he be if he didn't do that? asking for your location if you ever try to go out without him? silly lover, why would you worry him like that?

no no, he's not being possessive. okay, maybe he is. it's just a tiny bit though! surely you're fine with that. after all, he's still treating you like the royalty that you are. he should be allowed some grace for his unwillingness to share.

you're not sure whether or not he's truly innocent or not. was he even innocent to begin with? maybe, maybe not. perhaps it was all just an act...

but you shouldn't think that. why would you think badly of your boyfriend who's only ever been sweet to you? even during fights, he doesn't raise his voice and actively listens to you, trying to resolve the issue. he could never want to hurt you.

after all, he's your innocent boyfriend that you're smitten with, right?

[m1dn1ght-r0t]

Eyes Wrapped in Wool

Yandere! (ex) husband x amnesiac! fem reader

TW: manipulation, toxic/abusive behavior, mentions of (potential) forced imprisonment, coercion A/N: pretty sure amnesia doesn't work this way (i'm no medical professional) but pls suspend disbelief for the sake of the plot ahahah

Your husband never expected things to turn out this way. But by some stroke of luck—or perhaps divine intervention—you ended up bed-ridden in the ICU, suffering from multiple bone fractures and a terrible, oh-so-terrible, traumatic brain injury. Just last week you were talking his ear off about how you've had enough. How you were done with him controlling what you could wear or who you could see, his suffocating clinginess that devolved into explosive rages when you spent time focusing on work or with friends instead of with him, the negging, the snooping, the smashed plates... Jesus Christ. You just never knew when to shut the fuck up, did you? At some point he had stopped listening. Chalked off your dramatic tirade as nothing more than you acting up because of your period—merely white noise. How many times have you guys had this same broken record conversation? Yeah, he knew this marriage wasn't smooth-sailing. If it were, you'd be less opinionated, less bitchy, more pliant, more dutiful. But what relationship was ever perfect? So, he waited for you to run out of steam, as you inevitably do, before adding salt to the wound:

“You know baby, if you weren’t parading around in those slutty clothes of yours and acted your grown age for once, I wouldn’t be behaving that way.”

The scrunch of disbelief mixed with disgust on your face only spurred him to double down. “And maybe if you actually committed to this marriage like a devoted wife would, rather than prioritize your career and practically everyone over me—your husband, need I remind you—then we wouldn’t be having these issues. Ever considered that, hm?” He purposely dragged out his words, a patronizing lilt to his tone, in hopes of reminding that thick, dumb skull of yours that he always knew best.

It wasn't until you had thrusted the divorce papers in his face that he grew silent, the severity of the situation beginning to creep in. ...What? You couldn't actually be serious... right? This was just some lover's spat. A temporary blip that'd be smoothed over with a few intentionally placed saccharine words and hot make-up sex. Like always. So why the fucking theatrics? Are you really gonna be a bitch about this and d— When you slammed the front door shut with your packed bags in tow, leaving him to stew in your parting words—that you deserved better, so much better than him, and that if he didn't sign the papers, he'd be hearing from your lawyer—did the gravity of it all finally sink in. By the end of the week, your voicemail was battered by his countless furious messages. Are you done being a flighty little piece of shit, huh? What the fuck do you think you're doing? I swear to god, baby, I'm gonna drag your ass back here. And if I have to lock you in some basement and chain your hands and legs so you'd never think to leave me again, then so fucking be it. Divorce? Yeah right. Over my dead fucking body. Then came an unknown call. It was like whiplash, really, to first hear that you had been involved in a major car crash, and then, upon rushing to the hospital at neck-breaking speed— "I'm afraid she has retrograde amnesia", the doctor solemnly informed him. He could cry. Oh, he could fucking cry.

On the outside, anyone could see how distraught he was, his hands trembling as he processed the diagnosis, eyes glistening with unshed tears. Poor husband that he was, having almost lost his beloved wife in a freak accident, he now had to deal with the news that she didn't remember who he was. Inside, however, raged a war he couldn't reconcile: what was harder? Holding back the tears, or pretending those very tears were out of sadness rather than pure, unbridled joy? Because what this neatly packaged situation had presented him with was a do-over, a chance to mend the broken marriage teetering on the cusp of divorce. And like hell he's about to let you throw away a three-year connection like some ungrateful cunt when he loves you so, very much.

~

"Hey sweetheart, how are you feeling?"

As he walks up beside your hospital bed, he can't help but revel at how vulnerable you look. The slight furrow in your brows hinting at your confusion, the way you curl in on yourself as if to protect yourself from who is no doubt a complete stranger in your eyes, and your meek "Who are you?"—a far cry from the usual feisty, snarky attitude you used to dish out.

But perhaps most rewarding of all is the tentative gaze you offer him, eyes filled with a sort of curious glimmer, free from the hostility, disappointment, and hurt you'd flashed his way. You didn't look at him with hate. You simply want to know who he is.

Oh, aren't you precious? He'll gladly feed you his carefully spun narrative until you're full of nothing but adoring love for him—the embers of your thoughts about divorce and leaving him snuffed out for good.

"I know how confusing all of this must be for you. Take all the time you need. I'll be right here with you, as your husband, helping you fill the gaps, okay baby?" He delivers this with as much patience as he can muster, softening the edges of his words to avoid spooking you. But you're not soothed. If anything, you're more overwhelmed than ever. "M-my husband?" You echo, tasting the foreign word, sticky like warm toffee on your tongue.

"And...and my family? Where are they?" Your disorientation is a sight for sore eyes; how badly he wants to devour you right now. “Dead,” he intones, a script he’d been desperate to act out ever since you said your vows. The jarring news pulls a barely audible whimper from you, your eyes widening a fraction.

Shit. Too cold. Too careless.

His expression softens, the corners of his mouth tugging downward in a facsimile of sorrow as he injects a note of pity into his voice. “They died when you were very young, you see. I’m sorry.” He’s really not.

"What…? How could that be? So my p-parents, they're both—" Your breath hitches, tears welling at the corner of your eyes.

At that, he gently grabs your bandaged arm, wanting to comfort you. But when you flinch slightly, he has to resist the urge to snap at you—Oh, cry me a river. Who the fuck cares?? I'm right here, aren't I? I'm right here, damnnit, so look at me!

Instead, he tempers the resentment that's still fresh in his heart after the divorce stunt you'd pulled by reminding himself that he's supposed to be your kind and gentle partner.

So he settles for cradling your hand in both of his like it's fine china, grazing his lips over your fingertips. "But you have me, sweetheart. And I'm not going anywhere."

He half expects you to question his story—it wasn’t very convincing, even to his own ears—prepared to be barraged by your endless streams of “No, you’re wrong!”, “I don’t believe you!” or some other similar outburst.

But when all you do is gaze up at him with cinched brows, seeking reassurance, blinking at him so sweetly with your hand still snugly warmed in his, he pauses. That’s it? No suspicion, no skepticism, no outburst? Hah! He has to physically restrain himself from snorting because how fucking easy can this get?

Maybe the collision had completely scrambled your brains, rewired you to be more stupid, a little slower—exactly how he likes you.

"You trust me, right?"

And when he feels that subtle twitch of your fingers—what he gathers is your attempt at squeezing his hand back for confirmation—accompanied by the sight of your small, almost shy nod, he breaks out into a giddy smile at how utterly adorable you’re being.

Fuck, it’s hard not to already feel high off these micro-doses of innocence and receptiveness from you. Emboldened by your intoxicatingly sweet naivety, he dares to be a little greedier, creeping to perch on the edge of your bed, his hand now moving to cup your cheek.

“You have no idea how worried sick I was when I got the call. I thought you had…” He trails off, his implication clear. His face is mere inches from yours now, breaths as featherlight as his fingertips mapping every divot on your face.

“I love you.” He drags his thumb across your bottom lip, the act agonizingly slow. “So, so, so much.” Each whisper spills out heavier than the last, mirroring the increasing pressure of his thumb—your lip almost bruising from how hard he’s pinching them.

How long has it been? He can’t remember the last time he felt the warmth of your touch, your skin… eons too long without your pillowy lips pressed against his has left him completely starved.

“You can’t leave me…” A murmur too quiet to pick up. His gaze, now half-lidded, drifts downward in a drunken daze. “My wife. My good little wife. You love me too, right?”

Without warning, he leans in to close the minuscule gap.

And it’s all too fast and soon because you can feel the suffocating heat of his proximity, the chilling shared breath floating between the tight space. It’s all too much. So, in the last second, you hesitate, pulled from your stupor as you turn your head away.

But he’s not having it. Not when you’re already in the palm of his hand and he’s so fucking close. When he can already taste the opportunity to finally take out the trash and parasites leeching off you, to call up that godforsaken shithole you call a stable, steady-paying job and quit on your behalf, to have you all to himself—a blank slate to knock up with several kids and mold into the perfect little housewife he's always wanted you to be. God, he's already hard at the thought.

Grabbing your jaw firmly, he jerks your face back towards him, thumb roughly wedging between your lips and prying your mouth open.

“Baby.” The endearment spills out, sharp and cold, stripped of any warmth it might've once held.

His gentle veneer cracks ever so slightly, and for the briefest moment, you see something else. A flicker beneath the mask—raw, ugly, messy. It gnaws at the edges of your mind, dredging up something you can’t quite grasp. A memory?

“Gimme a small kiss, hmm?” Despite the smile on his face, there is no kindness to it. Just a twisted caricature warning you that you shouldn’t push further.

All of a sudden you feel like you can’t breathe, weighed down by the unsettling intensity of his stare. The man in front of you—the one claiming he's your husband and calling you “baby,” the one touching you—feels wrong. He’s a stranger, you remind yourself. An almost involuntary shiver runs down your spine, like your body remembers something your mind refuses to.

At this point, your husband has caught on to your rather obvious spiralling. He’s not an idiot—he can see your doubt giving way to panic. He contemplates smoothing things over by playing nice, but the selfish part of him ultimately wins.

He squeezes your jaw, nails biting into your skin.

“Kiss me.”

It isn’t a request this time.