#I don’t remember what I tagged text posts under

[hotvintagepoll]

Deborah Kerr and Burt Lancaster (From Here to Eternity, The Gypsy Moths)—no propaganda submitted

Zasu Pitts and Thelma Todd (Let's Do Things, Catch as Catch Can)—[a Vanity Fair article was submitted that was paywalled, so I'm putting the text of it under the cut]

This is round 1 of a mini Christmas tournament. Each poll lasts for three days. If you'd like to send additional propaganda supporting your favorite hot couple, you can reblog this post with your propaganda added, send it to my asks, or tag me in it. To vote in all the polls, click here. Happy holidays!

[additional propaganda under the cut]

Pitts and Todd:

Here is the text of the Vanity Fair article that was submitted, written by Donald Liebenson:

Before Lucy and Ethel, Laverne and Shirley, or Mary and Rhoda, there were Thelma Todd and Zasu Pitts. Separately, they were journeymen character actors in 1930s Hollywood. Together, they became the first major female comedy team, appearing in shorts that found them bonded as friends and career women struggling to make it on their own—the Depression-era answer to Abbi and Ilana of Broad City.

Over a two-year period, they made 17 shorts rarely seen since their theatrical release—and now collected for Thelma Todd & Zasu Pitts: The Hal Roach Collection 1931-33, a two-DVD set. They’re revelatory viewing, progressive, and proto-feminist portrayals of two career girls in the big city, defiantly dependent on each other.

Hal Roach, the legendary producer who teamed up Stan Laurel and Oliver Hardy, envisioned Todd and Pitts as a female equivalent to his marquee stars. Blonde-bombshell Todd was a beauty queen plucked from Massachusetts by a talent scout and brought to Hollywood in the 1920s, where she primarily played comic relief in other people’s films. Kansas-born Pitts was a prolific character actress, so typecast as a comedienne that few directors took her seriously for dramatic roles (though her finest hours were in Erich von Stroheim’s epic, Greed). The contrast between them was more about character than looks. Todd was brash and confident, and Pitts a more dithery presence; think Olive Oyl.

“They have gumption; they’re unflappable,” explained Molly Haskell, film critic and author of the seminal book From Reverence to Rape: The Treatment of Women in the Movies. “They’re looking out for each other; you could just feel the value of the twosome. . . . They are modern women. Hopefully, they will rise to the top—but in the meantime, they’re just going to wing it and figure things out.”

The duo’s first short, Let’s Do Things, establishes their dynamic. Thelma and Zasu promote sheet-music sales in a department store. Pitts moons over her boyfriend, but a disapproving Thelma prompts her to remember why the two came to New York in the first place. “To advance ourselves, to meet the best people, and to do big things,” Pitts responds. By the end of the short, the boyfriend gets a pie in the face, courtesy of Todd.

“They’re always going to have each other’s back,” Haskell noted. “I don’t think there’s any of the shorts where they fight over a man.”

Todd and Pitts’s gender alone made them somewhat revolutionary in their day. Comedy teams were primarily the province of men: the Marx Brothers, the Three Stooges, Laurel and Hardy. “Slapstick was what men loved, and women didn’t because the whole core of it was tearing things up,” Haskell said. “It was chaotic and women wanted order. The defense of the domestic was a woman’s role . . . and slapstick violated the sense of order and decency and uprightness. They didn’t find it funny.”

But Todd and Pitts were both game for the physical stuff. In Let’s Do Things, Todd suffers a throw-about throttling from a quack osteopath; in the courtroom comedy Sneak Easily, juror Pitts throws a murder trial into chaos when she swallows a piece of the evidence—an explosive.

But in their best shorts (which, like the rest of their work, were written and directed by men), the mayhem is mostly in the service of a female narrative, observed film historian Jeanine Basinger. “It’s situational comedy,” she said. “If you’re going to make a plot centered around women, what the heck is she going to do just sitting around the house? They have to get out there in some way. . . . When you look at these films, what you see is what [the creators] thought was a good comedy female situation in that era. You have the chaos over Zasu’s hat in the boxing arena in Catch-as Catch-Can, the high-society party in which they are fish out of water in The Pajama Party, and the department-store melee in The Bargain of the Century. . . . The American woman on film is really a pretty active person, unless she is just stooging it in a male genre. Things have to happen to them, and they have to react. These shorts reflect that very clearly.”

More than 80 years on, the Todd-Pitts shorts play surprisingly well. Their appeal, talent, and chemistry elevate even the most dated material. “I like [Todd and Pitts] so much, and enjoy watching them,” said Leonard Maltin, author of the recently published anthology, Hooked on Hollywood: Discoveries from a Lifetime of Film Fandom and the essential 1970 book Movie Comedy Teams.

“I cannot tell a lie: the shorts are not all good. The gag men had a hard time coming up with suitable material that wouldn’t de-feminize them or make them look outlandishly unladylike, but [Todd and Pitts] play well today because [the characters] aren’t so different from two young women trying to make their way in the world in 2018. The struggles they have by and large tend not to be sexist. If they lose a job, they are comically inept, or it’s a blown opportunity.”

Max and Caroline of 2 Broke Girls, which ran for six seasons on CBS earlier this decade, could be the granddaughters of Thelma and Zasu. Beth Behrs, who played fallen privileged high-society woman Caroline, formed a formidable odd-couple relationship with Max (Kat Dennings), a street-smart waitress trying to start her own cupcake business. Their chemistry, Behrs said, was instant, and their real-life friendship informed their on-screen rapport over the show’s six seasons.

Though the actress was previously unfamiliar with Todd and Pitts, she watched a couple of their shorts on YouTube and saw a kinship with those aspirational woman. “It was important [Caroline and Max] were full-fledged women who really were entrepreneurs,” she said. “We never had a love interest for more than a season. It wasn’t about finding a man; it was about loving each other and building the business from nothing, and the two of them going after the American Dream together.”

For Todd and Pitts, the dream ended when Zasu left the team in 1933. Hal Roach replaced her with Patsy Kelly. Todd, who had appeared in some Laurel and Hardy shorts, is perhaps best known today for her two films with the Marx Brothers, Monkey Business and Horse Feathers. Her career was tragically cut short in 1935 when at the age of 29 she was found dead in her car. A grand jury ruled her death a suicide, but that did not explain bruises around her throat, a broken nose, and other injuries; her death remains one of Hollywood’s unsolved mysteries.

What do these 80-plus-year-old shorts have to tell us in 2018? “They show us what all old movies show us,” Basinger said. “They show us how it was, and they show us how it is. . . . We can see attitudes, we can see women out in the world doing things, having ideas and speaking out. And they show us how we are today.”

Two Broke Girls ended its run in 2017. Behrs currently stars with Max Greenfield and Cedric the Entertainer in another CBS comedy, The Neighborhood, about a white couple that moves into a predominantly black neighborhood. The first season’s initial episodes have already glimpsed the comic possibilities in her character’s relationship with her next-door neighbor (Cedric’s wife), played by Tichina Arnold. “There is an electricity between us,” Behrs said. “The writers saw it, and are exploring turning us into a Lucy and Ethel.”

[boobearymuch]

Their Habits —♡ LADS Scenarios

—♡Summary: Everyone has habits, but not everyone enjoys having you point them out... —♡Tags: gender-neutral, pure fluff —♡A/N: Silly thing I whipped up after being told I bounce my leg too much lolll —♡ masterlist

—♡ Zayne

Zayne squints so much without his glasses. He insists he only needs them when his eyes get tired—but clearly—that wasn’t the case. “Zayne, look!” You eagerly pointed out a flyer posted on the door of his favorite boba spot. They were hosting an event next weekend, it read, and encouraged customers not to miss out on the opportunity. You watched his hazel eyes sharpen into a squint.

“Event…?” He still had trouble reading it, though, and absently tugged your clasped hands forward as he leaned in for a better look. After a few seconds, his eyebrows relaxed, and he hummed appreciatively, “They’re introducing new flavors. Perhaps we should…what?” 

You failed to conceal an amused smile. “You need your glasses, old man.” The nickname was not received well, by any means.

“The text is small.” He answered coolly, “The average person would also have difficulty reading it.” Then he slipped his hand around your waist, eyes narrowing, “And I’m not old.”

You couldn’t help yourself, you laughed, “Have you considered contacts?” The look he gave you was deeply unamused, “No, no, you’re right. You look cuter in glasses, anyway.” Zayne's ears tinted pink under your playful stare. 

“...Let’s go inside before they close.” You pinched his flustered cheeks.

“Are you sure? The menu is so tiny. What if you can’t read it and order the wrong thing?” Your mouth promptly shut after his grip on you tightened in a warning. Zayne remembered to bring his glasses on your next outing (and the one after that).

—♡ Sylus

Sylus hums nonsense when it’s too quiet. It’s like he constantly needs to fill silences with some kind of noise. Even his humming is off-key…

“What song is that?” 

Sylus barely spared you a glance, “What song?” His fingers worked a microfiber cloth into the metal of his pistol. 

“The one you were just humming.”

He huffed, “Didn’t realize I was humming, sweetie.” Then he removed the cloth to admire his handiwork, “Don’t you recognize it?”

You almost felt bad for saying this but, “...No?” Sylus finally glanced up from his work to shoot you a look. A concerning one.

“Really? You had it on repeat all day, yesterday.” Horror dawned on you at the realization, “The chorus has been stuck in my head since morning…” And then a laugh sputtered from your lips. 

“Oh my god, that sounded nothing like it.” Sylus glared and returned his focus to his pistol with what you could only describe as a pout. 

“What a picky kitten.” You bit your lip to stop the smile threatening to break loose. He was a god awful singer, but the room felt emptier without his noise. Gently, you padded over to where he sat, and invited yourself onto his lap. Despite his mood, a hand wrapped around your waist without hesitation.

“Sing it again.” Sylus’ hold on you tightened, “I think I like your version better.” A soft chuckle left him, and quietly, he hummed once more.

—♡ Rafayel

Rafayel taps. All. The. Time. Taps his legs, hands, pens, pencils, anything and everything within reach. And he’ll deny the hell out of it when you ask him to stop. “I wasn’t doing anything,” The candies on his phone screen lit up and exploded with color as he scored another combo. Too engrossed in his phone to realize the arm slung around your shoulders was still tapping you. You leaned into him with a huff.

“You’re doing it now.”

Rafayel gave you a sidelong glance, frowning, “I dunno what you’re talking about, cutie.” You suddenly captured his hand to still it, and Rafayel gave you the most scandalized look, “If you wanna hold it that badly, I’m not stopping you.”

“You’re not even aware you’re doing it,” You blinked incredulously, “Are you?”

Rafayel threw his head back and groaned dramatically, “Doing whaaat?” Then he lifted his head to press his forehead against yours and huffed, “Is this your way of telling me to get off my phone?”

You couldn’t help but laugh. “You look like a fish up close like this.” Rafayel pulled away to roll his eyes and clicked his phone off.

“Alright, fine, you have my attention.” Then he began tapping his foot, “You know, that’s a little offensive to say to a Lemurian. You could get cancelled for that.”

Your hand drifted to his bouncing knee, and you watched as both your hand and his leg now jumped up and down. “You’re doing it again.”

“Doing what?!”

—♡ Xavier

Xavier is always chewing on something, and it is almost always never gum. It’ll be something random, like a straw from a drink he’d long since finished. The strings of his hoodie, a toothpick. Once, it was a plastic tie. He reminded you of a teething puppy; he’d probably chew on wires if you left him alone long enough. Today, though, his chew toy of choice looked a lot like…

“Xavier, is that my pen?” 

He blinked, eyes floating from his comic book to your frown, “Yours…?” His jaw froze mid-chew. 

“Yeah,” You scooted closer on the couch, “the one from my desk at work.” 

A blush crept along his cheekbones, but he didn’t drop the pen like you expected him to, “...Are you sure?”

Your eyes fell to the pen trapped in the corner of his mouth, “The one with little stars on it? Yeah, that’s mine. I thought I lost it at work, why do you have it?”

The comic book shifted in his hands, “I found it, that’s why.” This explanation would be more convincing if he hadn’t shifted his gaze sideways. His blunt fingernails picked nervously at the corner of his book, curling the edges.

“Xavier,”

“Okay, I borrowed it.” You bit back a chuckle, and he guiltily removed the pen from his mouth. It shined with his spit, and the cap bore teeth marks, “You can have it back.”

You couldn’t hide your grimace fast enough, “...Actually, you can keep it.” Xavier merely blinked before bringing the tip back to his mouth. Then a smile curved the corner of his lips.

“My pen now, hm?”

[dreaming-medium]

No Contact

Pairing: Bang Chan x Reader

Word Count: 7.6k

Tags: ANGST with a happy ending, amnesia, memory loss, grief, pining, yearning, hurt/comfort

Summary: It was one of the worst car accidents the city has seen. You weren't supposed to be in that car, but you were. When you lose your memories from the incident, Chan is ordered to stay away for your recovery's sake; but it takes a larger toll on him than anyone could have imagined. Until one day, he just can't take it anymore.

A/N: inspired by this post. Angst ahoy <3 I had too much fun writing this. Maybe I like writing emotions. Enjoy <3

—————————————————————

No contact. That’s what Chan was told was best for you. That’s what was going to help your healing process. 

No contact whatsoever. No texts, no calls, no little surprise visits. No fucking contact. None. 

He was told it would just hurt you if he talked to you— that he would just make it worse. That you would only become more confused and upset. It would be absolutely detrimental for him to see you.

Hell, it might even make you worse. 

It’s killing Chan slowly. Every single day feels like torture for him. The days get exponentially worse. He feels like a hollow shell of his former self, like the wind goes through him when he steps foot outside. It feels like his shoulders are permanently sagged forward. 

But the worst part is that you don’t even know it. You don’t know how he’s collapsing inwards like a dying star. 

It was one of the worst car accidents the city has seen in years. A friend was driving you home that night; Chan had begged to be the one to pick you up, but no, you said it was fine, the friend was heading that way anyway. Why make the unnecessary trip?

You told him he needed sleep. Always putting his needs before your own. You always did. 

He should’ve put up more of a fuss. He should’ve put his foot down. He should’ve already been outside the house in his car with the passenger seat warmer on by the time you left that stupid party. 

He should’ve gotten out of the car and opened the door for you and had a cold bottle of water waiting in the cup holder. He should’ve kissed you on the cheek and asked you all about your time. He should have been there.

But he wasn’t. 

A drunk driver slammed into the passenger side of your friend’s car at a speed that you shouldn’t have even survived.

Miracles do happen, though. But what a price to pay for a miracle. 

For as long as he lives, Chan will never forget the sheer panic and terror he felt when the call came in from your mother. You were already at the hospital undergoing emergency surgery.

He was the last to know. 

After all, he wasn’t your emergency contact. He’s only your boyfriend.

Was. Was your boyfriend. Was? Is that the right word? He isn’t. But he is. There was no breakup. 

Is that what he’s going through right now? A breakup? 

You’re not on a break. But what is this? What is this loss? This severance is so horrible. 

It’s fucked up. It’s a fucked up, amnesia induced breakup. 

Memory loss is a funny thing. Doctors scratch their heads and shrug their shoulders without any answers. The brain is a tricky thing. 

Chan did what he was allowed to in that hospital. He sat in that stark white room under those harsh LED lights and he waited until you were awake. He even waited much longer after that because only two visitors were permitted inside your room at a time— and he wasn’t about to force his way in and kick one of your parents out. 

He let your sister go in first. He even let your cousin go in before him. But when it was finally his turn… 

He never got to see you. 

“The last five years?” Chan asked with a tight throat. Did he even have any more tears left to cry? How is there any liquid left in his body?

“She says doesn’t remember anything, Chan.” Your mother’s voice was just as hollow as his. “She was asking about her freshman roommate.”

A doctor stood in between him and your mom. “It’s best if we don’t throw everything at her at once. Amnesia victims rarely never get their memories back, but we’ve found that it needs to happen organically. Seeing her will overwhelm her and that could stunt the healing process.”

Chan’s mouth opened and closed several times but no words came out at all. His heart may have stopped. 

Does that mean…?

No…

“He can’t see her at all?” Your mother asked quietly. “Not even to visit? He doesn’t have to mention he’s her boyfriend, he can just say that he’s a friend, or a coworker, or—“

The doctor cut her off. “No contact. Not until we’re a bit through recovery and she’s starting to get her memories back.”

Chan was suddenly in a chair. 

When did he sit down? The Doctor’s hands were on his shoulders and he was looking down at him with a sympathetic stare.  

“It’s not forever, son.”

Chan was only able to nod. His mouth was so dry, the back of his neck felt clammy. His head was spinning.

Books often speak of moments as ‘Earth-shattering’. Of moments so catastrophic that the planet stops spinning on its axis and time stands still.

He gets it now. 

The doctor spoke a few more words to your mother before walking away. She looked down at Chan sadly. 

Your mother sat on the chair next to him and wrapped him up in a hug. His world was falling apart around him. You were slipping through his fingers. He couldn’t even see you.

Hot tears poured down his face while he sat there with his head in his hands. Why does it feel like he’s losing you? Why is this the only way? Why are these the cards that are being dealt?

Why didn’t he pick you up from that fucking party?

“She loves you, Chan… she’ll come to her senses, I promise, I promise.”

It’s been two months, one week, two days and eight hours since he’s talked to you. That long since he’s known peace. Since he’s known any sort of comfort. 

You’re the last thing he thinks about before he closes his eyes at night and the first thing he thinks about in the morning. No matter how many times he wakes up and feels the cold bed next to him, it never dulls the ache in his chest.

It’s not a healthy mindset, he knows. And it’s not that you were codependent on one another, that’s not it at all. You were just… ripped away from him. 

Food has no taste. The sky isn’t as blue as it used to be. Clouds don’t make fun shapes like they did with you by his side. The stars are still in the sky, he thinks, he hasn’t had the guts to look at them. 

God, you love the stars so much. You always talked about how pretty they are— how absolutely breath-taking you think the universe is. Chan would simply listen, he would always listen. All he ever wanted to do was listen.

How is he supposed to look at anything the same way? How is any day supposed to be normal when half of his life is suddenly missing. What’s the point of making music if you’re not there to listen to it?

5:00 PM is the hardest hour to get through. You don’t open the door to his apartment when you get off work. You don’t tell him about the things that happened during your shift. 

He can’t leave little snacks out on the counter for you to eat when you get home like he used to. 

Mice would get to it before you did. 

His lonely apartment is slowly losing your smell. He could spray your perfume, sure, you keep a bottle at his place, but it’s not the same. You somehow made the scent sweeter by letting it linger on your skin. 

All of your old toiletries are still there where you left them. Your spare toothbrush has been bone dry and untouched since 9:28 AM that morning. Your shampoo bottles are still half full and waiting for you on your shower shelf.

It had rained a few days before your accident. You had started a puzzle on his dining room table that day– you told him it was the perfect rainy day activity. It was a picture of different comic book covers. It’s now collecting dust. Unmoved and unsolved. 

Just like him.

It was a battle and a half to throw away your leftovers from two nights before your car accident. He felt like he was throwing away your normal life, your tiny domestic traces. 

He didn’t want to cleanse you from his life, but you were washing away. Your ghost was eroding with time. 

Your spare car keys are still hanging on the key ring. Your rain coat is on the third hook draped right over your work bag. Even your phone charger is still plugged into the wall on your side of the bed.

Did you know you forgot to put your favorite gold earrings on that night? You left them on the nightstand. They’re still there, don’t worry. Right next to the glass of water you drank half of. 

Do you even remember them…? He got them for you for your first Christmas together. 

There are so many signs of a life interrupted integrated so deeply into his. 

You’re a clock whose hands stopped suddenly at 1:24 AM. 

This sort of haunting is unbearable. You’re not a phantom in his life, though. You’re something so unattainable that he had once but it was taken away with empty promises of return. 

It’s like you’re a shiny diamond hidden away beneath lasers and traps like in those stupid, cheesy spy movies you love so much. 

Do you know what he would give to watch one of those with you in his arms right now? 

Chan feels like he’s banging on the glass of a one sided window, screaming for you to remember him. Meanwhile you’re on the other side only staring into a mirror, trying to pick up the pieces from before. 

Your mom sends him updates on your condition all the time. He knows that you started working at the local library about three weeks ago. 

You had worked there in college before graduating and getting your last job. It was one of your favorite jobs you ever had. That library was so special to you. 

To him too. 

It’s the library where he first met you. 

The same library Chan finds himself in front of now. 

He shouldn’t go in. He can’t go in. He absolutely should not go inside. 

Bang Chan you should not and cannot go inside this library. Under no circumstances should you step foot inside this building where your other half is working. 

Absolutely not. 

The door emits a soft ding when he opens it. Electronic. Quiet. Peaceful. 

There’s a certain type of silence that sits in a library. It’s closer, thicker— warmer. It’s an expected silence. They’re supposed to be quiet. 

Chan can hear his sneakers take every step on the carpeted floor. There’s no one sitting behind the front desk; that’s where you usually were. 

His eyes look all around, but there’s no sign of you anywhere. A few people toddle around the shelves. 

There’s more soft beeping coming from the self checkout. That’s new. They didn’t have that when you worked here years ago. You probably hate it. 

On the day he met you, you were wearing a pair of dark green pants and a black long sleeve shirt. Your hair was clipped behind your head and pieces were falling over your face. 

Chan was only in the library to look for the bathroom. He was on his way to lunch with a friend, but he just had to stop somewhere. The library was the closest option. 

When he had heard the sound of books falling, he investigated and found you in the center of the carnage, the glasses on your nose sat crookedly and you rubbed your head. 

Your eyes met. He was a goner. 

How disgustingly poetic that he finds himself here now. Where he really shouldn’t be. He was quite literally prescribed a restraining order against you. 

Chan meanders around with his hands in his pockets, the silence getting louder and louder the further he gets inside.

Maybe you’re not working today? 

No one is anywhere to be seen. He’s checking down all the aisles but he doesn’t see you anywhere. 

Maybe it’s for the best that you’re not here. He’s not supposed to see you anyway. He’s breaking the doctor’s rules by doing this anyway. 

He needs to leave. He needs to get out of here. 

His feet stop in front of the very aisle where he saw you for the first time. 

Empty. 

You-less. 

If he thinks hard enough, Chan can picture you in front of him, laughing quietly with the most adorable, embarrassed blush on your cheeks. 

What a moment. 

Is it possible to spend eternity in that moment? Obviously internal clocks can be rewound, paused, flipped every which way; can he go back to that day? Can he go back to the day where every single poem suddenly made sense?

He would take any day, really, any day that had you in it. Birthdays, holidays, late night dates, Hell, he’d even take a day where he only saw you when you dropped off a drink for him in his studio. 

Anything, he would take anything just to see your smile bloom on your face while he watches.

“Can I help you find something?”

His breath catches in his throat, it feels like he’s physically punched in the chest. That voice. That beautiful, melodic voice. He hasn’t heard it in person in months, only in videos he had on his phone. 

Slowly, Chan turns to face the source of his favorite pitch. 

His throat immediately tightens. 

There you are. You. Beautiful you. 

Standing right there. Looking at him like a complete fucking stranger. 

“I…” his voice is hoarse. Chan can feel the tears in his eyes begin to form. He didn’t think this through, did he?

You’re staring at him expectantly, waiting for him to say anything. You’re waiting, come on, Chan. Speak up. Say something. 

Looking up at the shelf, you look back down at him with a smile. “A history guy, hm?”

No.

“Yeah.”

You giggle. “I always had a thing for History.”

He knows. 

“Really?”

“Mhmm.” You respond with a grin. 

Specifically Ancient Rome. He knows. 

You continue. “Specifically Ancient Rome.”

Chan nods and clears his throat. His palms feel so sweaty. His chest is almost panting. Every single cell in his body just wants to lunge forward and wrap you in a hug. 

He wants to bury his face in your neck and sob while you hold him. He wants to tell you that he missed you so much. He wants to tell you how your pillow is losing the scent of your shampoo. He wants to tell you that he’s been DVR-ing your favorite show so that you can watch it later. He wants to tell you about his day. He wants to kiss you until you’re breathless. He wants you to hear the new song he’s been working on.

But—

“If you need anything, let me know.”

You start to walk away.

Chan feels his heart physically break. It’s happening again. He’s on the other side of that one way mirror. It’s happening again! No, no please. 

His eyes widen, the words get caught in his throat. Fuck, Y/N, please!

“W-Wait!” he says quickly. 

You turn around with a curious look. 

“The Odyssey,” he blurts. “Where uh… where can I find it?”

Your eyes light up. “Oh, I love The Odyssey.”

He knows. You collect different translations of it. 

“I collect different translations of that book, here I’ll show you where it is.”

With a little hop in your step you lead him towards all the classics. 

He watches you like you’re an oasis in the desert— maybe it’s because you are. You’re what he’s been crawling towards for two months. 

You lead him all the way to the shelf where the Odyssey lives. Your nimble fingers reach forward and grab one of the copies. 

Green nail polish. You still paint your nails green. You picked that habit up a year after he met you. 

The memories have to be there, Y/N, they have to be. Chan bought you that first bottle of green nail polish as a joke on Saint Patrick’s Day. 

Y/N, please. 

“This translation is my favorite,” you whisper and hand him the book. 

Chan smiles sadly and takes the book from you, unable to meet your eyes. He knows if he gazes into those gorgeous eyes that he’ll lose it. He’ll fall to his knees and cry. 

“Thank you,” he whispers back. 

You stand there for a moment, he can feel your eyes on his face. He always has been able to tell when you were looking at him, it’s a little, secret superpower. 

From foot to foot, your weight shifts. 

You only do that when you’re confused. Why are you confused? Y/N, are you confused?

“I’m sorry…” you start, sounding so unsure. “You remind me of someone…”

It feels like a defibrillator was hooked up to his chest. Chan’s eyes widen and he finally looks up at you. 

You’re looking at him so carefully. He can see the gears turning in your head. Your tongue pokes out of your lips and wets them. 

Y/N, please. 

“I just… I can’t figure out who. Do I… do I know you? I was—” You stop yourself. 

Fuck. Fuck! What was he supposed to say? Fuck! 

Chan wants to scream. He wants to grab you by the shoulders and cry that he’s your soulmate, that he’s the person that knows you better than anyone else in this world. 

Yes, you do, you do know him. And he knows you. He knows how you take your coffee, what movies make you cry, what color jell-o is your favorite. 

He knows that you never wear matching socks and you always lift your feet when driving over railroad tracks. 

He knows that when you were 6 you ran into the corner of a cabinet and that’s how you got that scar next to your eyebrow. 

Chan knows that your entire life you wanted to be an author but you’re so scared of failure that you decided not to chase after it. 

He knows everything. 

“I just have one of those faces, I guess.” It comes out of his mouth so strained. 

You stare back at him so carefully. Do you see right through him?

“Maybe,” you say slowly. You don’t believe him. He knows that tone. You absolutely do not believe a word he’s saying. “Are you sure?”

Chan swallows, he grips the book in his hand tighter. The lump in his throat almost doesn’t go down, more tears prick at his eyes. 

“I would never forget a face like yours,” he chokes out. 

Your eyes widen and you blush, looking to the side with a smile. You always were a sucker for cheesy compliments. 

After thinking for a second, you reach into your pocket and take out a little slip of paper. 

“Here,” you say after scribbling something down. Holding it out, Chan sees it’s your phone number. He has it memorized. “If you ever need more books to read… or find… call me.”

Chan takes the paper with a racing heart. He gives you a smile, his dimples showing. “I think I will,” he whispers to you. 

Another few moments pass of you just staring at him before you nod and giggle nervously. ��Well, I gotta get back to work, so..”

Chan nods and moves to the side. You walk past him. 

Your perfume curls around him like a blanket and he craves that sweet serenity he finds when he holds you close and breathes you in. 

Three steps after you pass him, you turn around. “Oh, I didn’t catch your name.”.

“Chan,” he answers softly. 

“Chan,” you repeat. It goes right through him. 

Your voice. Your sweet, beautiful, melodic voice. Finally, he heard you say his name again.

“I’m Y/N,” you whisper to him with a friendly smile. 

“Nice to meet you, Y/N.” Chan has to physically force the word ‘meet’ out of his mouth. 

“You too, Chan.”

And with that, you were gone, retreating back into your fortress of papyrus. 

—————————————————————

A bad idea was going into the library that day. 

An even worse idea was texting you the day after to ask how your day is going. 

And then an absolutely fucking idiotic move was asking if you wanted to go to dinner with him. 

And the worst part? You said yes. 

So, now here Chan was, standing in front of the mirror in his bedroom getting ready for what you thought was a first date, but to him was just a dinner date. 

How is he supposed to do this? He’s not, that’s how. 

Chan fiddles with his bracelet right before his phone rings. 

His heart drops when he sees the caller ID, your mother. 

“Ah, fuck…” he whispers before grabbing his phone. Of course you were going to tell your mom, you tell your mom everything. 

“Hello?” he asks warily into the phone. 

“Hi, Chan,” she says slowly, she sounds nervous, why does she sound nervous. 

“How are you? Is everything okay?”

“It’s Y/N…” Her voice lowers. Chan’s heart drops. “Before you panic, she’s okay! It’s um.. she’s getting ready right now… for a date…”

Chan isn’t moving. Yes, he knows you are. He knows it. But words won’t form in his mouth. 

“Channie.. I’m starting to wonder if that doctor isn’t right.. I can’t stand the thought of her finding someone else when you’re waiting for her… I tried to talk her out of it but she just seems so floaty and happy. God, I feel sick to my stomach.”

His jaw clenches. Now or never. 

“It’s with me,” he blurts. 

Your mom goes silent. Then a huge sigh comes out of her mouth. 

“I wish I could say I’m angry,” a little laugh follows it. “I think I’m only angry that you didn’t say something.”

He tells her everything, down to the way he pretended not to know you. 

“Well, you’re going to have to tell her eventually.” Your mom sounds unsure, herself. 

“Or maybe she’ll remember me.”

“What if she doesn’t?”

Chan sits down on the edge of his bed. His eyes are staring at the wall, unfocused. 

She’s right. What if you don’t? 

“Then, I’ll just … do it all again.”

Silence greets him on the other side of the line. Another tiny laugh comes from your mom. “I always knew you two were perfect together. Just like two magnets, you always come towards one another.”

—————————————————————

“I’ve never eaten here before,” you say with a chipper smile on your face from across the table. 

Yes, you have. 

“Really?” Chan asks, taking a sip of his water. 

“I pass it all the time and always wondered how the food was.”

He looks back down at the old menu. 

This restaurant was more than special to him. It’s where he took you on your first date. It’s an old fashioned burger joint with the greasiest, most delicious French fries in town. 

The first time you guys came here, you talked and talked until the place closed. And even after that, you drove around and talked until it was late. 

“I’ve been here a few times, it’s really good. The milkshakes are some of the best I’ve ever had.” Chan’s sweaty hands fiddle with the menu. 

He’s more nervous now than on the first date. 

“What’s the best one?” you ask with a smile. 

A small laugh comes out of his nose. “The peanut butter one.”

It was your favorite. 

“Yeah but then you can’t have any,” you say so nonchalantly, looking down at the menu. 

His eyebrows knit together. “What?”

“‘Cause of your allergy.”

He stops. 

You stop. 

He has a peanut allergy. Chan has a peanut allergy. 

His lips purse like he’s going to say something but you beat him to the punch. 

“I’m sorry,” you blurt out. “I… I don’t know why I thought that.” Your hands grip the menu a little tighter. “Maybe I’m thinking of someone else?”

Chan shakes his head. “No, no, it’s okay. I… I do have a peanut allergy. Maybe I said something before?”

You stare at him for a long second before looking back down at the menu once more. “Yeah… um. Maybe.”

He definitely did not say something. 

Dinner continues on. Chan listens to you talk and pretends he’s never heard your stories before and he tells you ones he knows he’s said before. 

The entire time, you were beaming at him, just like you used to before the accident. Your face never loses its constant happy glow. He’s not sure that the muscles in your face know how to frown.  

You’re the last two people in the restaurant. The staff doesn’t seem to mind. Maybe they recognize you both. Maybe. 

A lull dips into your conversation. Both of you know you should leave. Neither wants to. Especially the broken man sitting across from you. 

Chan takes the last sip of his drink. The bill has been paid for about an hour at this point. You’re looking down at your lap with a pink flush on your cheeks. 

You bite your lip and look up at Chan carefully. 

“Are you… are you sure I don’t know you, Chan?”

He stares at you. Did you know that you always bite your lip like that when you’re confused? 

“I just… I really feel like I know you. There’s just…” you pause, trying to find your words. He knows you want to tell him about the accident. He knows you want to say it but you don’t want to weird him out. 

What the fuck is he supposed to do? What is he supposed to tell you? 

“Something happened to me a little while ago, my brain’s been… fuzzy since then,” you explain shyly. “I know you said you don’t know me but I just… I can’t help feel like that’s not true.”

Chan’s jaw clenches, his knee bounces anxiously underneath the table. His head turns to the side in his typical nervous tick. 

Your mother’s words echo in his mind, his tongue suddenly feels like it’s swelling to the size of his mouth— making him unable to speak. Should he tell you? Is it now or never?

“I don’t mean to make it weird, Chan.”

He licks his lips and opens his mouth. 

Your phone rings. 

A sigh of relief comes from deep within Chan’s chest. 

Reluctantly, you pick up the phone and hold it to your ear. “Hello? …. No, I didn’t know…. Yeah, of course…. Sure… Yeah, see you tomorrow.”

Just as quickly as you answered the phone, you hang up. 

“Sorry,” you mumble. “Someone called out of work for tomorrow, they need me to come in.”

“Do you need to get going?” Chan asks, looking down at the time. It’s well past 10 o’clock. 

A sad smile crosses your face. “I mean… probably.” The time on your watch flashes back at you. He can tell you don’t want to go home yet. 

“Come on, Y/N, I’ll walk you home.”

Chan’s already standing up from the table, picking his jacket up off the back of his chair. You watch his movements and slowly get up, your movements screaming reluctance. 

—————————————————————

It’s three dates later when the two of you are walking down the street towards your house. It’s only a few blocks from here, but you both decide to take a tiny detour through the local park. 

“I have to say I’m a little excited to meet your friends,” you giggle. “I hope that’s not weird.”

You already have. 

“It’s not weird at all. I’m sure they’d like you.” Chan nudges your arm with his elbow, his hands staying in his pocket. 

“Changbin sounds like a blast.”

He was your favorite before.

“The two of you…” Chan thinks over his words carefully. “The two of you would definitely cause some mischief.”

And you have. 

A tiny lull of comfortable silence falls over the conversation. 

Both of you meander towards the swings. A cold wind blows through the air but neither of you react to it. 

With a tiny giggle, you sit down on one of the swings and hold onto the chains on the side. 

You are just so… you. You’re just your authentic self. Amnesia or not, you haven’t changed a bit. It’s so charming.

“I can’t remember the last time I went on the swings.” You start to move your body back and forth, not too much but enough to get the tiny thrill the toy brings. 

Chan walks up and stands next to you, his hand coming out and grabbing at the chain of the swing next to yours. 

The brightest smile stretches over your face. 

God, it really doesn’t take a lot to make you smile, does it? He guesses that means it doesn’t take a lot for him either since he smiles when you do.

He can’t help it.

He watches you move back and forth, the cold breeze kicking up a bit more and blowing dead leaves across the sidewalk. 

“What’s wrong, Chan? Allergic to swings?” you tease. 

He rolls his eyes with a smirk. “No, I just far more enjoy watching you have fun.”

Your cheeks flush. If he didn’t know you, maybe he would’ve chocked it up to the cold. But he knows the difference between your blush and the elements now. 

“You’re a smooth talker, Bang Chan.”

“It comes easy with you, Y/N L/N.”

Another laugh from you. 

“Shameless flirt.”

He puts his hand on his chest in mock hurt. “Ouch! I just speak the truth, that’s all. Not my fault I like seeing you blush.”

Every word that comes out of his mouth feels so natural. If he really thinks about it, he’s in a weirdly unique situation. Not many couples get to start over, to feel those butterflies again. But here he is, his palms starting to get sweaty as he imagines kissing you. 

Would you call it a first kiss? Maybe. 

It has been four dates. It wouldn’t be.. inappropriate to kiss you, would it? The two of you kissed on your third date a few years ago. 

He wants to kiss you so bad. 

Should he? Shouldn’t he? God, why is this so hard?

Chan reaches out and grabs the chain of your swing, pulling it to a very gentle stop. 

“Uh oh, fun police,” you tease and look up at him with a grin. 

Looking down at you, Chan allows his eyes to look over every detail of your face that he already had memorized. You haven’t changed at all except the new scar on the side of your forehead from the accident. 

It’s the same eyes, same nose, same chin that he fell in love with so long ago. 

The same asymmetrical eyes that you’re so self conscious of but he loves. Your hair is wind blown and splayed every which way. It adds a childish charm to your features. 

Very carefully, Chan moves his free hand down to cup your cheek. His warm palm soothes your ice cold face. He hears your breath catch in your throat at his touch. 

His thumb swipes over your cheek, fingertips run down the soft lines of your jawline. Eventually his thumb ends up under your chin which he tilts up. 

Your eyes sparkle. They somehow capture the light of the lamps around the playground. But they’ve always done that. 

You’re always so enchanting.

Is this a good idea? 

Is kissing you the best option? 

But does he even have the strength to stop himself now?

Almost three months without feeling your lips on his has been torture, and here he is, with you in his hands and there’s still this nagging feeling that he should stop. 

One look into your eyes quells that anxiety. 

Your eyes keep flickering down to his own lips, the shaky breath you let out is hot against his fingers. Everything feels warmer compared to the air outside. 

He can’t take it anymore. 

Chan leans down and presses his lips to yours. They’re warm and slightly chapped.

But, my god, he’s never felt anything this heavenly before. It’s like his entire body unwinds. Like a fire was lit inside his stomach. 

He moves his hand to the back of your head and keeps your lips pressed against his. Your head tilts to the side slightly. It’s just like he remembers. 

It’s just the first kiss, he can’t let himself get carried away. He can’t. 

He can’t let his fingers wind through your hair. He can’t melt into your touch on his cheek. He can’t let himself drown in your lips. 

But he is. 

He’s letting you consume his very soul in one kiss. 

How can something feel so healing yet hurt so badly at the same time? It’s like you’re ripping open a wound and bandaging it at the same time. 

No matter how hard he tries, he can’t bring his lips away from yours. Your hand slides down to caress his jawline with those soft, manicured fingers. 

Your lips open and close over his like mirror images. The feeling shoots straight down into Chan’s gut. It’s like the first time for him all over again. 

Those butterflies are going insane in his stomach. Your scent kicks up in the wind and he can’t help but take a large breath through his nose. 

God, he can’t stop himself. It feels too good. 

His hand moves from the back of your hair to cup your cheek and bring you closer. 

He immediately stops. 

Why is your face wet?

Chan pulls away from the kiss and looks down at you with concern written all over his expression. 

You’re crying. Why … why are you crying?

Your eyes open and you look at him confused. 

“Chan?” you whisper. You’re confused too. What?

“Why are you crying, Y/N?” he asks with a thick voice.

Your eyes widen and your own hand comes up to swipe at your cheeks. Sure enough, you’re met with tears. 

“I… I don’t know,” you say so quietly. “I-I’m not sure.”

Chan starts backing away, your eyes snap to focus on his. Your hand shoots up to grab at his to keep him there. You’re still so confused. 

Emotions are flying through your eyes. It almost looks like someone is clicking a light switch on and off in the back of your mind. A lightbulb is flickering in your soul like a dying neon sign in an old shop window. 

Every muscle in your face is twitching.

What’s happening?

“Channie—“ your own voice cuts off by a sob. 

Chan’s heart jumpstarts. You haven’t called him that… not in two months… that’s what you and your mother called him before the accident. 

Are you…? Are you remembering? What’s happening?

Please. 

Slowly, your hand falls from his. 

Chan stays there, unmoving like a statue. What’s happening inside your mind right now? It looks like you’re reaching and reaching for something that you can’t quite put your finger on. 

He's watching you struggle. It’s like when you can’t remember a word. It’s right there. It’s on the tip of your tongue.

You gulp, your eyes leave his and you look down at your lap. The dirt crunches under your feet as you shuffle your shoes around.

Chan swipes his thumb over your cheek, brushing away the tears. He’s biting back his own. 

“It’s okay—“ “I’m sorry—“ are both said at the exact same time. 

He knew it was coming. He knows you. But you don’t know him. Not anymore. 

But you do.

“It wasn’t the kiss. I—“ 

“It’s okay, Y/N.”

You know him. 

“Chan, I really loved the kiss.”

Chan. Not Channie. 

He brushes his thumb over your lips. “It’s okay,” he repeats gently. “You don’t have to explain.”

His other hand comes up and tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear. Your eyes slide shut at the sensation. 

Your bottom lip quivers and you pull it into your mouth and bite it. With a tight swallow, your throat bobs. 

“It happens sometimes,” you whisper. “It’s from the accident I had.”

Chan continues to soothingly rub your skin with his thumb. Slowly, he kneels down to be in front of you rather than leaning over. 

The dirt is cold on his knee. It seeps through the fabric of his pants. He couldn’t care less. 

“You don’t have to talk about it,” he whispers back to you. 

You shake your head gently, your hands folding in your lap. “No, no. I… I want to tell you. I need to tell you. It’s been happening more and more whenever I’m around you. It’s like every touch, every word you say bounces around my brain and makes me feel the worst case of deja vu.

“Every time I’m with you I feel like I’m trying to recall a dream I had last night but I just can’t remember what it was.”

You’re rambling. You only ramble when you’re overwhelmed and scared. 

“Chan, every time I’m with you it feels like some part of me is screaming to be let out.”

Your eyes open and you stare right through him. Chan feels his heart squeeze and almost stop completely. Despite your best efforts, the tears keep coming. 

“I was in a car accident a few months ago. I had such a severe concussion that I lost the last five years of my memory.” 

How is your voice so even?

Chan’s jaw clenches. Fuck fuck fuck. 

He knows. Yes, Y/N. He knows. Fuck, does he know! If anyone fucking knows, it’s him. 

“I—“ he starts but you cut him off. 

“Please,” you choke out and take a deep breath. “And since then I’ve been getting bits and pieces of my memory back. Sometimes they’re in large chunks, other times they just … come back.

“When I try to think about my life before the accident. There’s this… person there. Someone important. Someone so, so important that it physically hurts me to think about how I don’t know who it is. They’re a constant. And I love that they’re a constant.”

Your hand comes up to clutch at your jacket right over your chest. 

More tears come out of your eyes. The whites get more pink the more they flow. 

“But I know them. I do! I know them like I know the back of my hand. I-I know they love music. I know they take milk and sugar in their morning coffee. I know they don’t get enough sleep at night.”

Louder and louder your voice gets as you grow sadder and sadder. The sobs between thoughts wrack your chest. 

Him. You’re talking about him. 

Chan’s hands hold your face gently. His thumbs can’t keep up with how much you’re crying. 

Nothing has ever hurt this bad. 

You know him. You just don’t know it’s him. 

Nevertheless, you continue. “I remember that they have the most obnoxious phone alarm in the morning. I remember the passcode to their phone is 032518. I know that they have this one black sweatshirt that I love to steal even though it’s their favorite.”

Chan’s own eyes begin watering, he can’t stop it. You know him. You know him. You’ve remembered him this whole time and you didn’t even know it. 

You reach up and grab one of his hands and place it on your heart. Underneath your jacket, he can feel your heartbeat thudding violently against your chest. 

That same heartbeat he’s been dying to listen to while you play with his hair and tell him about your day. The heartbeat he would give anything to hear as he falls asleep. His throat gets tighter and tighter. 

“I’ve been surrounded by bits and pieces of a ghost and no one wants to help me. No one will tell me anything, and I’m so confused, Chan. I can tell that there’s something that everyone is avoiding telling me.”

A gust of wind picks up through the playground. It nips at his cheeks. It’s now he realizes how many tears are falling. 

A sob tears from his throat. 

You grip his hand tighter. 

“Tell me It’s you, Chan.” You’re begging. You’re actually begging while keeping his hand pressed against your heartbeat. 

“Tell me that you’re the person that I see in my dreams. Tell me you’re the one that loves when I draw hearts on the bathroom mirror after I shower. Please tell me that you’re the one that loves the smell of lemon cookies but can’t stand the taste.”

Oh, god, Y/N.

“Tell me that you’re the one that wanted to pick me up from the party that night but I said no.”

He breaks. 

He breaks right down in front of you. Every single ounce of self control leaves his body and he grabs you out of the swing, yanking you towards his body and holding you against his chest. The emotions that were being kept at bay come out like a raging storm. 

He falls backwards into the dirt, you come crashing into him. Your arms wrap around him at the same time he wraps around you. 

Chan buries his face in your neck, one hand on the back of your head and the other firmly around your waist. 

Wails leave his mouth as he holds you to him. They’re deep and come from the very depths of his soul. The wound that’s been open for months is bleeding.  

Every lonely night. Every dinner where he cooked for two instead of one by accident. Every long day he came back to an empty apartment. It’s all coming out. 

You’re crying just as hard as he is, both of your hands gripping the back of his hoodie like a lifeline. 

Your body in his arms is like a piece of a puzzle. Like he’s the dusty one sitting on his dining room table and you finally came in and finished it. 

Weeks and weeks of grief come crashing down on him. He can’t lie anymore. Not to you. Never to you. 

“It is me,” he cries into your neck, his hand running over the back of your head, feeling your hair slip through his fingers. It’s just like he remembers. “It’s all me, Y/N, It’s me.”

Your cries get louder, your body starts shaking in his arms. 

“I’ve missed you, Y/N,” he cries harder. “Fuck, I’ve missed you so much. I missed my girl. Oh my god, I’ve missed you.”

Chan can’t pull you close enough, he can’t get you close enough to his body. You shift around and press yourself into him. 

“I’m so sorry, Y/N. I’m so sorry I didn’t pick you up that night. I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you. I’m so sorry you got hurt.” 

Every ounce of grief is surfacing and clawing its way out of his throat. 

“I’m sorry I had to lie to you these last two weeks. I’m so sorry, Y/N. I was so broken without you. I broke the doctor’s orders. I needed to see you, Y/N.”

Despite how hard he has you gripped against him, you manage to pull away slightly. You sit up in his lap and look down at his red, tear soaked face. His eyes are puffy and his chest is sputtering with sobs. 

Both of your hands cup his cheeks and swipe away the tears the same way he did for you only a small bit ago. There’s a sad smile on your face. 

“Please don’t apologize, Channie, it’s okay. I forgive you.”

Channie. You called him Channie.

He cries harder and buries his face into your chest. Your arms immediately come around him and keep him there, fingers threading into his hair. 

You’re still crying. Both of you are. 

“I know you were just doing what you were told to,” you whisper into his hair. He can hear your voice reverberate in your chest. 

All he can do is cry. 

Months of build up led to this moment. Endless days of going through the motions just for the next to be as dull and tedious led to him falling into you in the middle of a playground at night. 

The only thing you do after that is hold him. You press kisses to the top of his head and whisper that you forgive him over and over. 

Each one adds a stitch to the wound, shutting it.

You’re finally in his arms. You’re finally back where you belong. 

“I missed you,” he says again, his cries dying down. He doesn't know what else to say. There's so much he wants to tell you, but everything dies on the tip of his tongue.

“I missed you too, Channie. My heart missed you so much.”

He sniffles and looks up at you. You pull your sweatshirt sleeve up and wipe away his stray tears gently. 

“Every day it just felt like something was missing. It was you. You were missing.”

Chan can’t find any words to say. He just stares at you. 

"I don't care how long it takes to remember, or even if I never do. I need you by my side for it, Chan."

His eyes sparkle at you for a moment but he leans up and captures your lips with his once more. It feels even better than the previous one.

The two of you relish in the contact, holding each other close and clinging to the closeness of it all.

It's taking everything within Chan not to start crying again. He's worried than any moment now, he'll wake up and this will all be some cruel dream.

But when you pull away from his lips, and he opens his eyes-- you're still there. You're still in his arms and smiling at him like you always did.

The burn is soothed.

“If you think about it,” you start with a tiny smile. “We’re lucky— in a way.”

His entire face screws up, even more confused. “Lucky?”

“How many people get to say they fell in love with the same person twice?”

Chan blinks twice before it feels like his entire body thaws. 

You and your glass half full attitude. He’ll never fucking get enough of it. 

His arms wrap around you again, bringing you down into his chest. You let out a breathy giggle 

“You’re never leaving my sight,” he breathes out. “Never again, baby, never.”

“I don’t ever want to, Channie. I never will.”

[joonberriess]

⊹₊ ⋆ “that dick make my soul smile,”

TAGS — creampie, fingering, slight degradation, dirty talk (LOTS), jk’s a sleazy mess at first, oc is done, mamas is stressed out, rough sex, jk rocks her shit 💀, some praise here n there, jk’s affectionate tonight, sex tapes r mentioned again, shower sex(?) not rlly, possessive!jk, breeding kink, never ending saga of jk saying “mama” or “ma”

WORD COUNT — 2.6 k

“Trash, trash, trash,” you mumble to yourself while you sort out the mail in your hands, “oh definitely trash.” You sigh and shake your head. You’re knocked out of your thoughts when you feel a pair of arms wrap around your middle and pull you back, “What the hell–” You hiss in surprise.

“Hey mama.” Jungkook’s stupid voice comes from behind, you already know he’s sporting a stupid grin on his fucking face. You shove his arms off and turn around to look at him with an annoyed glare, “Oh c’mon don’t be like that, aren’t you happy to see me? You weren’t mad at me like this yesterday when you had my head between your–” You quickly reach up to cover his mouth and look around the empty hall.

“Are you insane? There’s people around, Jesus, you don’t have any shame do you?” You side eye him, “First off,” you shake your head, “what are you doing here? I didn’t text you and Jiho didn’t ask, so why are you here?” You give him a look, “And if you’re looking for Jiho you’d know he’s on a camping trip with his cousins.”

Jungkook raises his hands in surrender, “Can’t a man come see his baby mama anymore? Shit you suck the fun out of trying to surprise you baby,” he shakes his head but you know, Jeon Jungkook isn’t fooling anyone and certainly not you.

“You forgot, didn't you.” You scoff, “Of course you did, what else did I expect? This camping trip is all Jiho talked about last week and yet you still manage to forget that because you’re thinking with your other head.” You roll your eyes and turn to unlock the front door, “Sometimes I wonder what Jiho even fucking sees in you, you’re a deadbeat Jungkook, a deadbeat.”

Jungkook chuckles, “To be fair my other head is the reason you get a good night’s sleep.” He says with a smirk on his lips as he stands there admiring the way your ass looks in that tight pencil skirt you’re wearing. You turn around to shoot him a glare but say nothing else and simply step into your apartment. Jungkook leans against the doorframe with both arms raised, “So, you gonna let me in sweetheart?” He licks his lips, poking his tongue out to push at his lip ring.

You look into his eyes and then down at his lips, “Well?” You shrug your coat and slip your heels off, “You gonna stand there all night or what?” He chuckles quietly and slips into your apartment, shutting the door behind him.

“This is new.” Jungkook comments, “Don’t remember you ever smoking.” He inspects the ashtray with a noncommittal hum.

“It’s not just for me.” You say uncharacteristically calm, “I bought it for you, figured you needed one since you love leaving a mess on my patio.” You don’t miss the way he smiles fondly at you, “Don’t get too excited dipshit, I smoke too, don't forget that.” You scoff and disappear down the hall.

Jungkook whistles under his breath and follows after you, “I didn’t say anything ma,” he kicks your bedroom door closed and settles himself over your bed, “what’s up with you? You’re not being your usual angry self.” He watches you go around your room putting things away and picking out your clothes.

“I’m tired Jungkook, I had two meetings back to back and all I wanna do is come home to shower and sleep. Can’t do that because you decided to come bother me at this fuckin’ hour.” You mumble and then throw a pair of panties at him full speed, “Don’t think I didn’t see the shit you posted either, you’re not funny.”

Jungkook throws his head back with a laugh, “Really? Cause I thought it was hilarious, I think it perfectly describes us.” He cheekily grins at you with that dumb lovestruck look of his.

You stop to give him an exasperated look, “Jungkook,” sigh, “telling people you’re always fucking your baby mama regardless is not funny, neither is saying ‘I fuck her when she mad at me.’ You’re a child.” You shake your head. You throw more clothes onto the bed and grab your robe and towel, “Don’t make a mess in my house Jungkook, I’m not in the mood tonight.”

Jungkook watches you with a pleased smile, “I won’t.” He reaches for your tv remote, “I’ll be rightttt here, sitting like a good boy for you ma.” He winks, “You just go ‘head and shower.” You eyed him suspiciously for a few seconds, he kept smiling goofily so you ended up walking away with no words.

You know he was up to something with the way he kept smiling so stupid. You grumble under your breath and hope he just doesn’t cause you to have a fucking aneurysm or something. You swear this man was going to send you to an early grave at this point.

Everything sounded pretty quiet out there, you heard Jungkook get up at some point but you figured he was going to smoke or get something. He even left the TV on, which you were grateful for because you didn’t do too well with silence. “What are you doing..” You mutter with closed eyes, just enjoying the hot water running down your exhausted body.

You were in the middle of reaching for your loofah when you heard the glass door open and Jungkook step in after you. “Pass me that bottle over there.” You softly hum.

Jungkook whistles softly and tugs you back into him, “Relax baby, let me do all the work.” He says in your ear, “I got you..” He gently pries the loofah out of your hands, “Worked so hard this entire week, baby deserves to rest.” He squirts some of your body wash onto the loofah. You don’t correct him because that’s true, hell you deserved this princess treatment for putting up with his ass too.

He gently ran his hand over your body, lathering your body up in the soap suds leaving you smelling like strawberries. He doesn’t try any funny business surprisingly, when he finishes he puts his hands on your shoulders and begins massaging gently. A quiet moan escapes your lips as relief rushes through you, “Damn you’re stiff as shit here.” Jungkook comments.

You lean your head back on his chest with a closed eye smile, “You’re finally being useful for once.” You chuckle.

“What are you talking about? I fuck you plenty baby, far as I know this dick makes you fall asleep faster than the fucking melatonin you take.” He laughs, making you laugh a little too. Jungkook lets your shoulders go and wraps his arms around your waist, tugging you backwards so your back is to his front. “Got you something special.” He mumbles into your shoulder.

“Did you now?” you huff in amusement and gently stroke his arm, “What did you get hm?”

“Nothing much, figured you needed a night in so I ordered some fried chicken and soju.” He lays gentle kisses over your shoulder and buries his face in your neck, “I set up a movie to watch too.”

You turn your head to face him, looking into his eyes before smiling softly and pressing a gentle kiss to his lips, “Thank you. Guess you’re not a dipshit afterall.” He laughs at your words and you ignore him, opting to press your lips against his once more. Jungkook welcomes you, his fingers dance across your tummy and inch downwards causing your breath to hitch in excitement.

Jungkook’s lips wetly smack against yours, muffled grunt leaving him as he holds you tighter against him. The kiss initially started off slow and more controlled, now it’s wet and messy with sloppy noises filling the space between you two. You pant into his mouth and your eyes flutter open to look at him pleadingly.

Jungkook grins softly as he pushes you towards the glass, “There you go baby, let loose for me, I’ll make you feel so fucking good.” He has you pressed right up against the glass, tits smushed and hands on either side of you. You bite your lip and push your ass back against his thick cock, it’s hot and throbbing against your cheek making you all the more eager to get it inside of you.

“Look at you, pussy’s drooling all over my cock,” he bites his lip and swipes his cockhead through your dewy slick folds, “hear that? ‘s your pussy callin’ out to me baby.” He pushes in slightly, letting the tip pop in with a lewd squelch.

Your lips part in a breathy moan and you push back for more but he stops you with a gentle hand on your hip. “Not here baby, relax for me.” He says as he lets his cock slip out, “Gonna fuck your pussy with my fingers first, get you nice and stretched out before I fuck you with my cock.” He cups your pussy in his hand and lets his fingers slip through the mess dripping from your folds.

Jungkook takes his time opening you up, slipping his middle and then his ring finger into you until they’re knuckle deep. Your mouth falls open but nothing comes out, this is exactly what you needed after those long hours in the office this entire week. Jungkook does not disappoint when he begins pumping them in and out slowly, making sure he hits every nook and cranny inside of you.

“There we go,” Jungkook whispers and begins kissing down your neck, “doing so good for me mama,” he sucks a hickey into your skin, “let go for me.” He nibbles on your earlobe and uses his other hand to wrap around your throat, not choking–simply holding it.

Your eyes flutter shut and you lean your head back on his shoulder, “Oh fuck yes,” you sigh in bliss, “right there.” You circle your hips, gasping when his fingers brush against your g-spot.

Jungkook pulls you back in and kisses up your neck slowly, “You’re so fuckin’ pretty baby, look at you, dripping all over my fingers like a little cock hungry slut. Bet you missed this dick baby, need me to come fuck it in your needy little pussy, have you all spread on the bed for me begging for more,” he whispers as he kisses the side of your face, “you gonna be a good girl and take it?” He jabs his fingers into your g-spot causing a burst of pleasure to hit you.

“Yeah,” you pant softly, “want it deep inside,” you bite your lip and spread your thighs a bit wider, “need it so bad.” You whimper quietly and push back on his fingers.

Jungkook chuckles breathily, “Yeah..” He moves his fingers faster, jostling you as your back arches, “Make it messy for me sweetheart, go ‘head and cum,” he has you locked in place, keeping you from moving anywhere. His fingers piston in and out of you rapidly, loud squelching noises resonating as bits of slick drip down your inner thighs.

“Oh fuck..!” You gasp and clench down, “C-Coming..” You hump his fingers desperately, “K-Keep going, right there, right there,” you whimper out and feel your orgasm come crashing down on you, hitting harder as all the stress lifts itself from your body.

Jungkook slows down until you’re whining in overstimulation, “Clean ‘em.” He slips his wet messy fingers into your mouth, “Fuck.” He groans, “C’mere baby.” He turns you around and lifts you up in his arms, “Need you on my cock.”

“Wait, the water!” You reach behind blindly to turn the knob, groaning when he begins sucking on your soft tits.

.

“Fuck..!” You throw your head back on the pillow with gritted teeth. He’s fucking you so fast and hard you’re honestly no sure what to focus on anymore..him? The skin slapping? The bed creaking? He’s not making it so easy either with the way he’s groaning and panting right by your ear.

Jungkook has you folded under him, his hands grip the back of your thighs and hold them up while he plows your swollen dripping pussy with his fat cock. The room feels stuffy, sheets are strewn about messily and you’re both laid bare in the open without a single care. Jungkook isn’t faring much better, his moans are choked up and every so often you feel him throb inside you.

“You like that baby?” He pants breathlessly against your lips, “Got you clenching so tight around my cock, practically drooling all over me.” He rolls his hips against yours smoothly, pelvis pressing down and rubbing along your clit stimulating it. His balls press against your taint with soft palping noises every time he grinds into you.

You shakily claw at his shoulders and moan needily, the angle certainly has your legs feeling like jelly and your poor cunt throbbing from the pounding he’s giving you. “Love it,” you turn your face to slot your lips against his messily, “fills me up so good baby.” You cup his face in your hands and hold him in place while he works his cock in and out of you.

Jungkook lets out a muffled moan as he starts picking up the pace, hips smacking into yours over and over again with deafening slaps. He lets your thighs go in favor of planting them on either side of you on the bed, “Hear that sloppy little pussy? Got it creaming all over my cock and makin’ a mess. Who’s fuckin’ you baby? C’mon tell me.”

“You are.” You whimper out, “Shit–right there,” you mewl.

“That’s right sweetheart, no one else can give it to you the way I can. You can fucking try but at the end of the day this pussy is mine to fuck,” slap, “mine to use,” slap, “mine to breed.” He growls in your ear lowly, “Gonna ruin you for anyone else, so next the time you plan on letting someone else have it you’ll be remembering the way I fucked you so good.” He hisses softly and sits up, landing a set of punishing thrusts on you, making your body bounce a bit off the mattress.

Your head rolls back and you let out a series of staccato moans, crying out for more and scrambling to grip the bed sheets, the pillows, the blankets–anything. He’s fucking you within an inch of your life and you feel like you’re about to pass out from the sweet pleasure mixed with a tiny hint of pain from the way his hips smack into your ass. “Jungkook..!” You sob out.

Jungkook grits his teeth and reaches down to pinch your clit cruelly, relishing in the way your back arches off the bed. “Go on, cum for me little mama.”

With perfectly aimed thrusts and the combination of his fingers on your sensitive bud, you cum for a second time on his cock. He leaves you trembling on the bed, whimpering and whining. Jungkook follows up shortly with a low moan and your name escaping his lips, “Fucking hell.” He whispers breathlessly.

You let your jelly-like legs fall on the bed, “I’m not getting up.” You mutter, “Put the chicken away, ‘m going to sleep..” You turn on your side and curl up, shivering when his cock slips out of your battered pussy.

Jungkook hums, “The things I do for you baby,” he sighs softly as he strokes your thigh up and down, “lucky I love and appreciate you mama so much.” He rolls out of bed and slips his loose sweats on.

“You love me.” You sleepily mumble, “ ‘n you love my pussy.. I love your dick too.” You smile in your sleep, a bit delirious from the fucking and the strong orgasm he had given you.

Jungkook eyes you with a grin, “Damn right I do.”

TAGLIST: @fragmentof-indifference @jungkooksseuphoria @kooliv @angelarin @jjeonjjk7 @lilliankoo @pb-n-juju @ellesalazar @saweetspoiled @laylasbunbunny @prettyprincejk @cherrysainttt @hyunjinswifeee @joongraduatewithonor @hellbornsworld @leire-mia @m1sss1mp @lissful @winkii @lifeless-firefly @exactlygreatcoffee @taestoess @ayalies @floweryjeons @softtcurse @lilspinachwrld @tearyjjeon @littleobsessedkitty @lovelovelovebts @angeljmnie @rerefundslocals @bangtans-mama @thvhoe @maddkitt @tvse @ohjeon @teteswtnr @jkslovey12 @kelsyx33 @milfpo1ice @sluttydidi @ztyur @beomgyuult @shescharlie @sweet-sourhotcoco @lalita-7 @hazzzelsdimension @p34rluv @kook-net @bonita0-0 @vmapy @dahliadaenerys @frieschan

[calcifiedunderland]

Part I (here), Part II, Part III (COMPLETED)

Trey Clover vs. Azul Ashengrotto vs. Jamil Viper x GN! Reader

In which the way to the Prefect’s heart is through their stomach! At least, according to three of NRC’s students…

I got the idea from @recreyomakesdoodles , from this post! Thank you so much, hope you liked it!!💕

Tagging people I think would be interested: @aruis4nosleep , @tinseltina

Warnings: food/eating

Notes: I decided to split this into multiple parts because I never have any restraint while writing and this ended up being long. Enjoy :D

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“Well, I didn’t expect to see you here.”

Azul pushed his glasses up, balancing a stack of takeout boxes emblazoned with the Mostro Lounge logo on them. Cold blue eyes met Trey’s golden irises. Trey cleared his throat, shifting a heavy picnic basket from one hand to the other. “What brings you here, Azul? I thought you’d be busy at Mostro Lounge…”

Azul snorted, “the Prefect knows to expect me today. Clearly, you are the one intruding.” Earlier that week, he overheard you wailing to your friends about your upcoming History of Magic exam. Apparently, this unit was on Atlantica’s magical history - a topic that was, unfortunately, giving you trouble.

Fortunately, Azul was a mer who grew up learning the history by heart. Naturally he offered you assistance in exchange for having you taste-test some dishes. And how could he not help a poor, unfortunate fellow student like yourself?

Besides, if he wanted to bring along some personally cooked meals to Ramshackle, under the claim that you both would be there ‘for hours, so you may as well try some foods (that I made!) for the upcoming Lounge menu (that I run)!’, that was nobody’s business. And certainly not Clover’s business.

Trey crossed his arms, easily holding the heavy picnic basket like it weighed nothing. Azul could smell the buttery pastries and powdered sugar through the closed basket lid where he stood. “Riddle sent me to give the Prefect an invitation to the next Unbirthday Party. I thought I’d give them some treats to… sweeten the deal.” Though Trey had a disarmingly pleasant smile with the pun, his eyes bored into Azul’s.

Azul frowned. “That couldn’t have been more than a simple text. Aren’t they friends with your first years, as well?” He asked, remembering your first year friends that he’d turned into anemones.

Trey adjusted his glasses and averted his gaze, a telltale deflection sign that Azul didn’t miss. “Well, it’s more official coming from the Vice Housewarden.” “And I suppose the baked goods are complimentary?” Azul sniffed disdainfully at the basket, “Surely, the prefect needs more than pastries. A proper meal,” he emphasized.

Trey’s eyes narrowed, “a basket of baked goods is better than whatever deal you’d have for them,” he nodded to the boxes Azul carried. “Everyone loves a good old fashioned pastry. Can’t say the same for seafood.” Azul opened his mouth to retort, when suddenly both of their ringtones went off.

IM SO SORRY AZUL!!!!! I got caught up with something, can I come over tomorrow?? I likely won’t be done until later, the headmage has me doing stuff 😭

TREY!!! Tysm for the invite, you didn’t have to go out of ur way to give it in person!! ill definitely be there at the party! 😄 sry I’m not there atm, Crowley wanted me to do something for him

Trey frowned, reading your text. Azul huffed, shouldering the stack of food boxes, muttering “looks like today was a loss.” Trey sighed, “well, it can’t be helped…” he made a mental note to put the pastries in the Heartslabyul fridge and just deliver it to you tomorrow, under the guise of ‘checking up on you’ after working for Crowley. The two of them trudged down the path to the Hall of Mirrors, heading back to their dorms.

The two of them walked in silence until Trey abruptly said, “I don’t know what you want with the Prefect, but I hope you have their best intentions at heart.” Azul turned to give Trey a withering look, “I assure you, when it comes to the Prefect, I have nothing but good intentions.” As he stepped into Octavinelle, Azul smirked and muttered, “especially regarding their heart.” Trey lingered for a bit, staring at the Octavinelle mirror with an unreadable expression. “We’ll see about that,” he said aloud in the empty Hall, then headed back to Heartslabyul.

—•—♣️🐙🐍—•—

Meanwhile, you sighed heavily, collapsing onto the chair. The cafeteria was pretty much empty, save for the random student or two. It was already darkening outside, and you were hungry. Crowley wanted you to do something for him just before lunch, and soon half your Saturday was gone running around NRC. You’d even lost track of time, and missed Azul’s study session and Trey dropping in! You groaned, hearing your stomach growl loudly.

“Prefect? What are you doing here?”

You glanced up, seeing Jamil with a large container of tupperware and other small containers. The delicious scent of curries, labneh yogurt cheese, and freshly made pita made your mouth water. Despite yourself, Jamil caught you looking at the boxed-up food more than once.

“…Crowley had me running errands, and I may have skipped lunch…” your voice grew quiet near the end. Jamil raised an eyebrow, then smiled. “I actually ended up making too much food for Kalim,” he said, moving around the table to sit next to you. “There’s enough for an extra person, and I’ve have already eaten.”

Your eyes widened, and Jamil started dishing out some curry and flatbread for you. Bright-colored curry sauce and chickpeas flooded the platter, wafting a delicious scent. As Jamil ripped a piece of pita, your stomach growl loudly. Your face felt warm. Jamil only chuckled, pushing the plate he’d conjured towards you. “What about Kalim?” You asked, feeling bad. Jamil smiled, “Please, go ahead. There’s enough for Kalim and you.” A warm smile grew on your face, and you gave Jamil a one-sided hug before digging in. “Thank you! You’re my savior!”

As he watched you eat, a tender look grew on Jamil’s face. He shifted the food containers so he could watch you while nibbling on some flatbread. It wasn’t difficult to determine that you were off on Crowley’s whims again - with you running around the school and being gone for several hours. With that in mind, it wouldn’t be anyone’s fault if he accidentally made too much food, so he thought he’d drop it off at Ramshackle later. It was sheer luck that you’d dropped by the cafeteria!

You hummed, soaking up some of the leftover curry sauce with your flatbread, “this was delicious, Jamil. Thank you so much.”

Jamil smiled genuinely, but a devious look came into his eyes when you looked back at your plate. “Please, Prefect, allow me. Wait here.” He took the plate, going to the kitchens to box up some food for you to take back. Walking back to you, he handed you the container, “It’s getting late, I can walk you back to Ramshackle.”

The two of you set off, with you holding some of Jamil’s boxes. “This was… really sweet of you, Jamil,” you smiled. You knew Jamil always had his hands full, whether it was taking care of Kalim or managing literally everything else. Maybe the food was making you gush, but you were definitely grateful for the impromptu meal. As you opened the door to Ramshackle, you gingerly handed the boxes back to him.

“Ah, wait,” he shuffled them and held a large one out to you. “This one is yours.” Your eyes widened, “Jamil, this is a lot-“ “Please.” Your eyes met his dark grey irises, and warm gratitude filled your chest. “Jamil, I… I really don’t know what to say. I have to repay you somehow-“ Now that was what he wanted to hear.

“You know, I’ve been meaning to try making some new dishes,” he glanced at you. “I’ve been needing someone to taste test them, and Kalim won’t be available…” You nodded eagerly, “Of course! I’d love to help you!” You said your goodbyes, and as the door shut behind you, Jamil had a calculating smirk on his face. Oh yeah, it’s all coming together.

————————————————————♣️🐙🐍

Thanks for being patient everyone!! Hope you enjoyed this part, reblogs and comments are forever appreciated 💕

lmk if anyone wants to be added to the taglist! Take care shrimpies~ 😘

[no-144444]

breaking up (not making up)- k.antonelli

Day 24 of fic-tober! fic-tober masterlist

summary: you've had it with kimi always putting you second.

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You understood Kimi was under a lot of pressure right now, he was going into F1 next year, he had expectations, he had a one year contract, he had to be great. 

But he didn’t need to be a dickish boyfriend. Especially not on your birthday. Not texting you was fine, he’d been bad at responding recently. Not calling you was fine too, you had plans with friends all day, and then family dinner with him. 

Not showing up was a totally different thing. 

Embarrassing you was a totally different thing. 

Not apologising for a week was a totally different thing. 

Not texting you for a week was a totally different thing. 

You were pretty sure it was over, and you were slowly picking the pieces back up as you sobbed for days over him, only to realise that he wasn’t even worth it. You were better than that, than him. 

And of course, only then did he call you. 

“Hey baby,” he was smiling, you could tell. You rolled your eyes. 

“What’s up?” You asked, exasperated. 

“You’re coming to Mexico, right? I just… haven’t seen you around the paddock,” he chuckled. 

“Why the fuck would I come to Mexico?” You scoffed. 

“Che cosa? What’s wrong?” (Che cosa= what)

You laughed. You actually laughed. How did he know? Even Ollie texted you. Even George texted you. Your own boyfriend couldn’t remember? Fuck him. “I don’t know Kimi, what is wrong?”

“Mama Mia, I don’t know if you do not tell me!” He scoffed. 

“You forgot my birthday,” you answered. “We haven’t talked in weeks, I haven’t seen you in longer, and I thought we’d already broken up. That’s what’s wrong.”

He took a deep breath. “Why didn’t you tell?”

“Because you should fucking know! We have technology, y’know, shit that can remind you when my fucking birthday occurs! And the worst fucking part was the fact that you left me hanging in front of my parents! They were so fucking excited to meet you, and you didn’t show up!” You shouted, the pent-up frustration finally making its way out of you. “And you didn’t text or call me for a week! You don’t remember my birthday, you leave me high and dry for dinner, and you don’t contact me for a week, what was I supposed to think Kimi?!”

“Y/n, please, just listen to me-“

“I am so fucking done listening to you. Don’t call me again.”

“So we’re done?”

“Yeah, we are.”

And you hung up the call. It was time you did something for yourself for a change.

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y/nuser

tagged: yourbestfrienduser , friend1, friend2.

liked by pierregasly, kimiantonelli, and 984,292 others

y/nuser too busy being single and happy to be in the paddock, call me if you need me xxx 0800- go-fuck-yourself :)

Comments on this post have been disabled.

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navigation for my blog :) (masterlist)

fic-tober masterlist

taglist: @anotherapollokid @theseerbetweenus @simbaaas-stuff @5sospenguinqueen @yootvi

[attic-club-sandwich]

How they are Handling your Disappearance. Hello all, get ready for some more Nightbringer Angst! This is a little drabble (bullet point style) of how I think the "Present Day Demon Brothers" are handling your sudden disappearance. Honestly I hate thinking too deeply about NB, it brings me to tears. I can't even imagine the pain and anxiety the brothers are feeling without knowing where their beloved human went and why. Anyways, grab your tissues and I hope you enjoy! Feedback and reblogs are super appreciated!

Taglist: @delphi-dreamin @bite-sized-devil @sassykattery @amberrskiies @obey-me-posts @a-hidden-gem @otomefoxystar @siofrantic

Part 2 : Side Characters

Part 3: MC Returns

Rose divider by @/firefly-graphics

Fill out my form if you'd like to be tagged in my work!

They’ll always remember the exact day and time you disappeared. It was their day off from RAD, and you had been in the Devildom since Solomon had brought you by for some training sessions. You practically begged the sorcerer to allow you to visit the House of Lamentation, and Solomon happily obliged. You really didn't have to convince him too much, though. The brothers were so happy and surprised to see you again so soon, and they had planned on taking you out for dinner that evening. Except you never showed. They spent hours searching for you. Those hours easily turned into days. Then the days turned into weeks. There was no trace of you left behind. Where did you go?

💙Lucifer💙

He’s terrified. He doesn’t know why or how you disappeared, but he feels responsible.

He spends every waking moment looking for signs of you. Trying to piece together what or who took you from him.

Knows he has to be strong for the rest of their brothers.

But when he can no longer feel your bond with you through the pact, he feels the unbearable weight of despair crack through his usual stoic demeanor. 

He cries. He hasn’t cried like this since their fall.

Lucifer hardly sleeps. His brothers notice the bags under his eyes. How he no longer cares what he looks like in front of them. 

He becomes distant again, shutting himself in his room or study. 

If you thought his hatred for Solomon was strong before, it’s infinitely worse now. 

He doesn’t know who else to blame, so the silver haired sorcerer becomes his reasoning for your disappearance. 

The eldest demon has his hands around Solomon’s throat, Mammon and Beel having to pull him off. 

“Lucifer are ya nuts?! We gotta have him alive if we have any hope in finding MC!” Mammon had scolded him as he became limp in Beel’s strong grip.

Solomon promised he’d bring you back.

He better not dare to show his face back here until you are with him, safe and sound. 

💛Mammon💛

The normally confident and self assured demon becomes silent. Angry. Afraid. 

 Aside from their initial searching for you, he doesn’t leave your room. 

He can’t feel your pact with him anymore, and it sends him spiraling. 

He buries himself into your pillows, inhaling your lingering scent.

It’s faint, but he takes what he can get

His eyes are puffy and red from crying, and he can’t stand sitting around doing nothing.

He goes out every night, flying over the Devildom, searching.

When he can’t, Mammon sends his familiars out searching for you too, exploring the areas that he can’t reach. 

The ravens are good at finding things, and if they can’t find you, then he’s screwed. 

Each time they come back with nothing. 

Occasionally, they bring him Grimm they’ve found or a valuable piece of treasure. 

But you’re the only treasure he gives a shit about right now. 

When he goes to retreat back to his room, he runs into Lucifer. 

He looks terrible. 

But Mammon can’t blame him. He probably noticed his swollen face and unwashed hair, too. 

He sends you texts every day. Even if you don’t get them. 

Normally he’d be grossed out by his own sappiness, but he doesn’t care. 

He needs you.

MC, wherever you are, just know I love you. So goddamn much. Please come back.

I miss you.

I hope you’re thinking of me, too. 

🧡Leviathan🧡

Leviathan always told you he wouldn’t know what he’d do without you. 

But he really didn’t want to really experience what life would be without you!

Is this some cruel joke?!

It’s got to be! One of his alternate universe video games went wrong again right?

Except it isn’t. You’re actually gone, and he actually has no idea what to do with himself. 

He cries. Alot. 

To mask his tears from his brothers, he spends a lot of time in his fish tank with Henry 2.0. 

Don’t get him wrong, he loves Henry, but he longs for you. His soulmate.

He sends Lotan to search the Devildom seas, far and wide. He had asked him to listen for any information of sightings of you. 

 But so far, there’s been nothing. No word. No trace of you.

He lays curled up in his bathtub, a laptop balanced on his lap as he watches anime to try and distract himself from you.

But oh no, is this your favorite episode?! He turns it off, shoving the laptop away and fresh tears falling down his cheeks. 

I’m so useless, he thinks. The Grand Admiral of Hell’s Navy, and I can’t even find a human!

Levi’s self depreciative behavior gets worse.

He blames himself for not being with you when you disappeared.

He begins picking at his skin and nails, an old, nervous habit resurfacing from back when he first fell into the Devildom. 

His brothers do what they can to reassure him, but it’s no use. 

He needs you. Please come back home soon, MC.

💚Satan💚

Satan’s temper tantrums are back.

He didn’t ever think he’d revert back to this, but now that you’re gone….

Accidentally lost his temper and in a wrath filled frenzy blew through the wall in the living room. Lucifer threatened to tie him up. 

Normally the prideful demon would have just done it, but something about his older brother was different nowadays.

He feels it too, he thought. The pacts are gone.

Spends sleepless nights in the library reading any book he can find about curses.

Did you become invisible? He had no other explanation.

Was it the work of some demon on the street who decided they didn’t like you that day?

He’s frustrated because he feels like he doesn’t know anything.

He knows nothing of your sudden disappearance

Like Mammon, he sends his cats out looking for you. Any sign of you. 

But they also bring back nothing but a dead mouse here and there. 

Normally he’d be delighted by their gift to him, but it’s lost its appeal.

When he’s worried about you, nothing else matters. 

Lucifer did allow him to keep a cat in the house though. 

Also uses his personal connections from all three realms to look for you. 

But it’s no use. 

When he’s not in the library, he’s shut away in his room. 

His brothers think for a moment that he’s disappeared as well, but they find him asleep on his bed, his cheeks tear stained and a book on his chest. 

Please come home, MC. I need you.

💖Asmodeus💖

Asmo’s love for you rivals the love he feels for himself. 

Now that you are gone, he feels he has no love left to give for anyone.

He feels empty. 

The Avatar of Lust takes pride in his appearance, always making sure he’s presentable and looking his best. 

But not knowing where you are and if you are safe or not is driving him mad. 

His brothers haven’t seen him this way in a long time. 

Asmo’s eyes are puffy and red, his cheeks and nose raw and swollen from the endless tears. 

He spends hours in the bath, thinking of anything he may have said or done to cause you to leave him like this. 

He takes up the habit of sleeping a lot. He wasn’t sure how Belphie could do it all the time. But now he understands. 

Asmo can also throw a good temper tantrum. 

The day he realized he could no longer feel your pact with him sent him over the edge.

But afterwards he felt embarrassed, even though his brothers will never blame him for expressing his feelings for you. 

When Solomon leaves to go find you, he feels hopeful, putting all the trust he has in your master to find you.

But it also hurts. He hasn’t left Solomon’s side since your disappearance, taking comfort in the bond he still has with him.

He’ll never take it for granted again. 

MC, I can’t take this! If you can hear me, please come home, my lost little lamb… I love you…

❤️Beelzebub❤️

Beel is quiet. 

He’s another one that feels responsible for your disappearance.  

His heart is aching, and he doesn’t know what to do with himself. 

Thankfully, he has his twin by his side to reassure him. But it’s not enough. 

He needs to know where you’ve gone. 

He needs to save you. 

Beel’s appetite is all over the place. One minute, he can’t stop eating and the next, he’s not hungry at all. 

His brothers got really concerned when he didn’t eat for 2 whole days.

The only hunger he feels is the need to figure out where you went. 

Not only is he worried about you, he’s worried for his brothers. 

He knows they are suffering too, especially with the noticeable absence of your pact. 

Beel has always been protective of them, after all.

He stops going to the gym. He doesn’t feel like it. 

Instead, he cuddles up in bed with Belphie, holding him close with tears silently rolling down his cheeks. 

Beel you’re squeezing too hard, he hears his twin mumble. But he doesn’t care.

He’s almost lost his brother before, and now your disappearance has him terrified. 

Please, don’t take anyone else away from me. 

I love you, MC, please wherever you are, stay safe…

💜Belphegor💜

Belphie’s temper is a short fuse. More than usual, anyways. 

He doesn’t want to talk to anyone but Beel. 

He tries to retreat to the attic to get some peace and quiet from his brothers losing their collective shit. 

But he ends up drowning in a wave of memories as soon as he walks through the door. 

He collapses on the bed and hugs his cow pillow to his body as he sobs, his body curling in on itself. 

Dammit MC, look at what you do to me…you need to come home…

When he isn’t sleeping, he helps soothe the rest of his brothers to sleep. He sees their dreams, knows the thoughts that are keeping them awake.

He wants to help, but figures this could be the only way he knows how. 

He doesn’t feel your presence at all, though. 

That must mean you aren’t anywhere nearby, or even in the same Realm. He knows your pact with him is gone. 

He felt it break the day you disappeared. 

But sometimes he feels a flutter of something in the place where the mark used to be. 

He can’t explain why. 

Belphie often finds himself slipping into bed with his twin at night. 

They were inseparable before, but even more so now that you aren’t around. 

I can’t lose him too, I have to stay by his side, he thinks. He snuggles into Beel’s chest as his brother holds him close, afraid he might disappear too at any second.

He misses the days when you were nestled comfortably right between the two of them. 

You need to come back MC, you’re our missing piece. 

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

End Game 4

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, age gap, stalking, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Your gaming buddy asks to meet up but it doesn’t go exactly as planned.

Characters: Andy Barber

Note: I'm a sleepy babay.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

There’s a finality to the tap of your thumb. You hold the block button for a moment before you let it go. The window pops up asking if you’re sure. Yes. Certain. This is just a mistake and when you’re older and wiser, you’ll be thankful you made it. If you even remember it. 

You lay back and put your phone down. Done. Over. No more Jacob. No Andy.  

Maybe you’ll go back and see Kara again, or she can come here, even if she hates this town. You can at least be thankful that it reconnected you two, and you have to be grateful to learn a hard lesson. Don’t mess with strangers online. You’re better off alone. 

You close your eyes. You’re exhausted. Mentally, emotionally, and yes, physically. Who knew scooping ice cream could be so much work? 

When you wake up, you’re sore and still groggy. The sun peers in at you brightly in the slat between the curtains. You groan and hide under the pillow. Your shift starts at noon. You can’t spend all morning doing nothing or the whole day is wasted. 

You drag yourself out of bed. Your grandma is still asleep. You’re sure she was up until dawn with her latest haul from the used book store. You clean up the cluster of wrappers around her chair and tidy up the kitchen, dumping the old coffee and brewing a new pot. 

You go to grab your phone and pause as you see an unusual notification. Your email? Huh. You don’t really use that besides for school. You open it up, thinking it might be about enrolment. No. It’s him. Andy. Holy moly. 

You scroll up and down, skimming the blocks of text. Oh god. You hit delete. You’re not reading all that. You said what needed to be said. 

You have your coffee and load the machine for whenever your mother gets out of bed. You eat and wash up, catching up on some Youtube before you make yourself get your uniform on. You head out, walking to work to enjoy the sunshine, and key in between tying on your apron and chatting with Gavin, the high schooler who does half-shifts every now and then.  

He leaves at four and you have your complimentary cone just after five. Peanut butter chocolate; classic. You eat at the window as you watch the mostly empty street. Your phone vibrates and you slide it out, hoping to take advantage of the lull. 

WhatsApp request? No way. The shammy recruiters always want a piece of you. At least you never fell for that. 

You bite into the cone and your phone suddenly blows up with Insta notifications. Bots! Ugh. So annoying. Every new follower is faceless with some generated name. You mute the notifications and put your cell away. You really are a boring person. 

As you look up, tires crush over a patch of gravel and your barely catch a glimpse of the car as it rolls just around the corner. You feel like you’ve missed something. Maybe your grandma is right about you always having your nose buried in a screen. Who is she to talk? She lives in her novels. 

Your shift ends at eight. You lock up and stop by the convenience store down the block. Nothing special, just a tray of carbonara you can shove in the nuke. As you pay at the counter, the door chimes to signal another customer. You accept your meagre meal as the other patron strides into the aisle. You don’t look over as you go directly for the door. You’re starving for more than a scoop. 

Your footsteps seem to echo through the dull streets. The frozen meal makes your hand hurt as your other holds your cell phone close. You text Kara as you finally get through the essay she wrote about Calvin’s latest antics. You wish you could convince her to play something. You feel aimless without an analog stick under your thumb. 

There’s a scuff, close behind you, loud enough to make you jump. You fumble with your phone and glance over your shoulder. You don’t see anything but the thick oak outside Luella’s. Ugh. Alright, you need to eat and lay down. It hasn’t been a busy day but still a long one. 

You pass through your grandma’s front door. She’s where she always is, in her chair, but something’s off. Something’s different. The smell of pollen hangs in the air and a pot stands on the coffee table with several white orchids tall in the soil. You frown. The last time you got her flowers, she didn’t even put them in a vase. 

“Oh, those are pretty,” you say. 

“Mph, not mine,” she grumbles, not looking up. 

“Not... who’s...” 

“Delivery man said your name. I didn’t read the card. I’m not a snoop.” 

You nod, thankful at least that she isn’t nosy. You go to the table and examine the pot. Who would send you flowers? 

You take the card off the tall pronged stick and open the envelope. You slide out the paper and unfold it. 

‘I know I’ve told you a million times, so I’ll show you how sorry I am instead. Yours always, Andy.’ 

You nearly drop your handful. Your eyes flick up to the pot and you have to stop yourself from pushing it off the table. What the hell? How... how does he know where you live? You never even mentioned what town you’re from. He only knows your college and it’s so small, he wouldn’t have heard of it. 

It’s enough to unsettle you. That he knows where you live is bad enough but the flowers themselves make a point. It’s not over. He’s not walking away but what else can you say to make him? Didn’t he get it? You think were pretty nice considering. 

“You got some boy?” Your grandma raises her eyes from the page. You can’t remember the last time she even bothered looking at you. 

“Not exactly,” you tuck the card away and put it in your pocket. “I’m going to make my dinner.” 

“Eh,” she grumbles, “fine. Get them flowers somewhere else. They stink.” 

You lift the vase, hugging it around the pot, and carry it from the room. You balance it against your hip and go into the kitchen. You use your free hand to pull open the freezer and put the pasta inside. You’re not so hungry anymore. 

🎮

The irises are pretty. The pot they came in is fancy, probably expensive. It underlines once more the gap between you and the real Jacob. Between you and Andy.

It only reminds you of how ridiculous you must have sounded. So, you just can’t understand why he’s doing this? Why is he still trying? For you? A girl with dwindling hopes of even finishing her low-tier college degree. 

You try to forget. You don’t have a shift that day but you can’t just sit around. Usually, you would. You’d hole up in your bedroom and play video games. Not anymore. He ruined that. You’re disappointed you’re letting him. 

You got down to the library for a while and wander around. There’s nothing there you’re very interested in. They still haven’t got the latest release in the series you’d read in high school. Oh well, you’ll wait around until one day you learn the fate of those revolutionary spies. 

You walk the main strip of the town. It isn’t very extensive. There’s a coffee shop and the used bookstore which also carries hobby supplies. There’s the same diner that’s been there since you were a kid and the interchangeable business that open and close year after year. 

There’s a vibe in your pocket. It’s not Kara. Another WhatsApp request, more Insta bots, and Discord. You haven’t been on the server in ages. You couldn’t keep up with all the channels and most of it was arguing about mining strategies. 

It’s Andy. Frig. You should’ve blocked him there too. You just hadn’t thought of it. 

‘Did you like the flowers?’ 

You don’t answer but he’ll see that you read it. It isn’t long before he’s typing. 

‘I am still very sorry. I wish you’d talk to me. Hear me out.’ 

Hear him out? He said everything. His son is dead and he lied to you. That’s not anything you can hash out. 

‘I know you’re not working today. I’ll make a new world and we can chat there.’ 

No. That’s not going to happen. Over. O-V-E-R. It’s done. You’re not going to be like Kara. When you cut the cord, it’s snipped. 

You won’t answer. That’s just bait. He’ll keep nibbling if you do that. You press the chat settings and block. That’s better, you can’t breathe. 

You put your phone on silent and back in your pocket. You wish you had the money to try the sushi place. It won’t last long in the bodunk town so you probably won’t ever get to. Oh well. Back on campus, they sell decent California rolls at the cafeteria. Decent, not necessarily good. 

You go home. To your grandma’s house. It doesn’t always feel like home. You know she’s counting the days until you leave. You are too. 

You wish you were brave enough to apologise. To say sorry your mom and dad didn’t want you. That she got stuck with you. It feels like saying it out loud would be worse. Just wallow in the unspoken resent, one day you won’t ever come back and maybe then you can both be happy. 

In your room, you don’t know what to do with yourself. Your Switch taunts you from across the room. You want to mine or race or even scare yourself with some Hellblade. You can’t. More Youtube. More wasted time. That’s what people like you do; people from small towns with no one who loves them and no money; waste time. 

The mindless videos help you relax but not forget. You just can’t get rid of the little tickle at the back of your head. There’s a tinge of shame that remains and a sliver of guilt. It will go. It has to, one day. 

You catch yourself staring at the orchid. You can smell it. You want to throw it away but that feels rude. Even if Andy would never know, even if you shouldn’t care. He hurt you, didn’t he? He lied. Well, you could give it to Mahalia next door, she loves flowers. 

You lay in indecision. You don’t want to do anything but lay there. Now that you’re still, you have no strength. Your day off is chipped away in your laziness.  

The next day awaits you with another shift at the booth. And the day after and the day after. 

Your fourth day in a row and you get a new Discord message. You know even before you open it, even by the blank avatar and nondescript username. It’s him. Just leave me alone. Let it go. Let me forget. 

‘I know you don’t want to hear from me but I need you to hear me. I can’t stop thinking of you and what happened. I can do better. Please, let me apologise.’ 

Blocked. Again.

Work. Again.  

You’re half asleep as you fill cones with soft serve. You smile and swallow yawns, faking it for the hyper children and cheerful couples. 

When it slows, you work on cleaning the freezer, switching out empty containers with ones from the deep freeze. As you check the soft serve, there’s a tap on the open walk-up window. Oh shoot. You should’ve been paying better attention. 

You turn back to greet the next customer but as you approach the window, your chest deflates. Frozen, like the tubs around you. You stare at Andy as he smiles at you. He wears a short-sleeve button up with blue, grey, and white stripes. His hair blows in the soft breeze. 

“Do you have butterscotch ripple?” He asks brightly. 

You blink and hesitate. You don’t know what to do. How did he get here? How did he find you? Why is he here? 

You reach for the window and before he can stop you, you shut it. You lock it from the inside and step back. His face falls and his brow arches as he stands straight. He says your name, his voice muffled by the glass, and puts his palm to the barrier. 

“Please,” he begs. 

You shake your head and turn your back to him. If your manager was here, you’d be in shit. That’s a no-no. Never turn away a customer, only shut the window when you lock up. 

You ignore him and go back to tidying. There could be a line up out there but you don’t care. Your hands are shaking and it’s not just the temperature.

You just can’t believe he’s there. You can’t believe he won’t just give up. You don’t want to believe it because you’re afraid. You’re terrified and he seems entirely clueless about how scary he’s being. 

Flowers are one thing but showing up at your job? That’s a flaming red flag that even you can see. Not only because you told him plainly that you don’t want to talk to him again, but because he’s a grown man. Fortysomething and he can’t take a hint. Why would a man his age want to talk to someone as young as you? That’s another red flag on its own. As if catfishing you wasn’t enough. 

[blessedbucky]

we tried the world, good god, it wasn't for us! (part 1)

pairing: satosugu/reader

word count: 8k (oops)

tags: autistic!reader, autistic!satoru, suguru has depression, unplanned pregnancy, pregnant sex, vaginal sex, anal play, you and satoru are gonna rizz suguru with the 'tism, uhhh let me know if there's something else i need to add!

comments: once again it's just pure self-indulgence! we need more autistic reader inserts! and more autistic satoru! this is also posted on Ao3!

No.

Yes?

As you tap the pencil against the table irritably, you squint down at the sketchbook. You twirl the pencil around and move to erase the bottom portion of the sketch but hesitate. Did it…? Ugh! Why are you like this? You’d been so keen to soak in all the distinct details to remember those that you completely missed the basic. Did this damned cursed spirit have legs or not? The rest of it had been so floaty. Surely, it wouldn’t have any use of them. Right? Then again, the forms of curses sometimes make no sense at all.

Hmm, alright. There had been a ripped, worn cloak. Red and blue ribbons that could easily be mistaken as toilet paper to a panicked non-sorcerer. Unkempt hair and bald spots. There’d been a mask, but the curse sensed no hostility or prey, so it didn’t reveal what was underneath. You debated on calling a sorcerer in to lure the spirit in to a fight, but you don’t have the energy to deal with strangers and anyone close would snitch.

You tap on the screen of your phone, flicking away the text that you’ve already read. There is someone that could collect that curse for you…but then he would wonder why you know about the exact location in the first place. No, no. Best not to tempt fate like that. Besides, if you have to sit here and debate whether it had legs or not, isn’t that some indication that there had to be something there in the first place?

About twenty minutes later, the front door opens, and you’re finishing sharpening the colored pencils. A shame that you can’t color this particular sketch, you think as you flip back to the front, but your much less non-threatening sketch of Nue needs to be colored, anyway.

“I’m home!”

There’s a noticeable crinkle of bags that gets closer and closer to the kitchen. Many of them. Perhaps it’s your humble upbringing or it’s inherently you, but this inclination of his for spoiling you will never not fluster you. These days, you can let it slide a little more since it’s not only you that’s being spoiled anymore. Or maybe, after nearly a decade of knowing him, you understand that this is a way he communicates.

When you look over your shoulder, you can’t help but smile at the sight of him in the doorway. Sure enough, he’s loaded up with bags. Some are plastic ones from the konbini, some a little nicer and prettier, and some are outright designer bags. Those ones, you note, are not for you.

“Welcome home, Satoru.”

Satoru hesitates before he tosses all the bags away from his arms and throws himself at you with what can only be described as a manly squeal. “Waa! I have the cutest wife!” You’re prepared for a full body attack, but Satoru only plasters himself across your back, and wraps you up in his arms. He’s unbearably gentle about it. “How are my babies, hmm?” His hands flick away some pencil shavings before they rest on your belly. “Ugh, I could kill those geezers for keeping me away for so long. You’re so big now!”

You tilt your head back, deadpanning his upside-down face. “You’re so lucky that you’re married to me. I think other women would think you’re calling them fat.”

“Would they?”

“It’s like you don’t pay attention to people at all.”

“I only pay attention to the ones I like!”

You pat the tops of his hands. “I know, darling. I know.” It’s then that you notice a little something. You turn around in his arms so you can study him fully, specifically his neck. “Speaking of people you like…” Curiously, you reach up to touch the bruise just barely peeking out from under the collar of his shirt. Satoru tenses at your touch, smile faltering, but relaxes when you only ask, “Why on earth did they call for Suguru?”

“Eh. You know the protocol when there’s more than two Semi-Grade 1’s.”

Your eyes light up. “There was more than one?! How many?! What did they look like?!”

“Why yes, dearest, we’re both fine. Thank you so much for asking, dearest. Oh, no, dearest, don’t be so concerned since you’re oozing with it right now.”

You wave away the sarcasm. “Shut up. Did one of the spirits have a technique to switch bodies? Because you don’t know how much you sounded like Suguru just then.” Satoru snorts. You won’t let him interrupt your very important research. Vibrating with excitement, you spin around to snatch your sketchbook from the counter and start flipping for the next open blank page. You don’t have many pages left, though. You need a new sketchbook. “You got sweets, right? Describe the spirits while we taste-test them!”

From over your shoulder, a hand slaps down on your sketchbook so hard that you squeak. “Darling,” comes Satoru’s sing-song voice. Shit. “My most beloved Sketch,” he goes on to croon. He’s pressing you against the counter to block your escape. You wonder if you wiggle your ass if that could distract him. If he’s still got hickeys, it hasn’t been too long since Suguru fucked him, but Satoru seems like he’s having a good day, and his libido is sky-high on those days. “Mother of my child,” he stresses. “What is that?”

Oh, you’re definitely sweating now. You could try to lie…or you could play dirty. Yes. That one. You pull on the perpetuate restlessness that’s set in since you were benched and that puts tears in your eyes. Once again, you’re turning around in his arms and looking up at him.

“It was Aka Manto, Satoru!” You fist your hands in the front of his jacket. “Aka Manto!” The way that he tilts his head back and slaps a hand over his eyes means you’re successfully hitting him below the belt. “How could I resist? That would be like putting Agumon, here and in the flesh, right in front of you and expecting you to walk away!”

“Agumon?” Abort! You shouldn’t have invoked his special interest! “Okay, if I was you and I was pregnant and Greymon was the one in front of me then you’d have a case! You risked your life for an Agumon-level spirit? I don’t know whether to be mad or disappointed! You could’ve totally resisted that!”

“I couldn’t! I heard those teenagers gossiping and heard them talk about the red and blue toilet paper and all the possibilities started running through my head!” You blindly slap a hand against the sketch. “This is a good thing! I can keep myself busy with researching! I have to figure out if it’s a true vengeful cursed spirit or an imaginary vengeful cursed spirit before I register it!”

“Register?” Oh. Oh, no. You’ve done it now. “Register implies Special Grade.” You know you’re in serious trouble when he slips his blindfold off. Damn your empathy! You should’ve made sure every single light in the apartment was on before he got home! Satoru is one of the few people that you can stand eye contact with, but not so much now. You don’t want to make him angrier, though, so you look at his forehead instead to give the appearance of eye contact. “I know my super intelligent wife wouldn’t put herself alone with a Special Grade.”

“Never,” you chirp nervously. “On a totally unrelated note, did you know that those geezers are super pissed right now? They had to fork over a ridiculous amount of money to reward Mei-Mei for capturing a Special Grade. Heh…heh…”

Then, Satoru…disappears.

The sudden loss of his support makes you stumble, and you have to catch yourself on the counter. The gust of wind from his warping sends colored pencils rolling off the counter. Just as you’re crouching down to pick them up, Satoru is back, and he’s not alone.

“Oh. Hello, Sugu—”

“Talk some sense into your stupid best friend!” Satoru demands of a flustered Suguru who is trying to recover from being warped so suddenly. To everyone but Satoru, warping is jarring.

“Isn’t that you?” Both you and Suguru intone at the same time.

Satoru harrumphs before he’s stomping off to pick up all his shopping bags and leave the kitchen. Knowing him, he’s going to sit on the couch and aggressively eat his haul until he makes himself sick. This temper tantrum is starting to get under your skin, especially when you think about him getting crumbs on the couch. Just the thought of sitting on the couch and getting bombarded with them makes you want to claw at your skin already.

Suguru touches your shoulder in warning before he slips it under your arm. “Let me do that,” he insists before he helps you up on your feet. Then, he crouches down to gather up all your colored pencils, examining the ends on your behalf. He separates out the ones that will need to be re-sharpened. “What have you done now, Squid?”

“Sketch, Squid—can you two come up with cooler, more original nicknames for me?”

“Those are original,” he replies with a smirk. “You have no one to blame but yourself. It’s not my fault that you were torturing a squid spirit when we first met.”

“I was six, Suguru.”

“And have you changed at all since then, Squid?” You refuse to answer that. Suguru, though, has known you longer than anyone else. “That’s what he’s angry about, right? That’s the only reason he drags me into your fights. As if I’ve ever been able to stop you from doing what you want.”

“I have a cursed technique!” You announce loudly enough that Satoru can hear you from the couch. “Have you both forgotten that the whole point of my technique is to not be seen by spirits? I can pacify them! If I actually thought that I was in danger, I wouldn’t have gone near it!”

Suguru sighs softly before he raises up to his feet. “You know that you have a tendency for tunnel vision when you’re excited.”

“It was Aka Manto,” you whine.

“Aka Manto is Special Grade?” His nose crinkles in disgust. “Ew.”

“Just based off a preliminary search, the legend has been around since the thirties, at least. It could be longer. So, it’s had time to establish itself and accumulate power. I’m surprised it’s gone so long without being exorcised, but a spirit that haunts bathrooms is probably something that sorcerers think are beneath them—”

Suguru interrupts your hypothesizing with a finger to your lips. “This isn’t only about you anymore, okay?”

“No one cared about this before I got knocked up,” you snap.

“They did,” he sings. “You don’t want to admit it because you’re trying to be manipulative right now.” The accusation has your jaw dropping. “You’ve always been a non-combatant sorcerer, Squid. Just like Shoko, hmm? When you’re on a mission, you’re paired with an active sorcerer. Does that sound like no one caring?”

You try to dismiss the point with a snide, “They only care about me like a prized scientist, same as Shoko. I’ve dedicated all this time to studying and researching cursed spirits out in the field. I can categorize them and seal them better than any other sorcerer can.”

“The higher-ups only see you as that, but Satoru and I don’t. There are others, of course. Most of the auxiliary managers adore you. More importantly, there’s Nanamin, Shoko, Nanako, Mimiko, Tsumiki, Megumi—”

As quickly as your temper flared up, all that wind leaves your sails. “Alright, Suguru, I get it. You don’t have to keep adding salt to the wound.” You shuffle past him to plop down in a chair. “It’s just…hard.” And since you know that Satoru can and is listening to this conversation, you add, “Imagine Satoru being completely cut off from anything Digimon for nine months. This is my Digimon. Cursed spirits are my thing, y’know?”

Suguru follows after you, wrapping a hand around the back of your neck to pull you forward. You bury your face against his belly, practically purring when he starts lightly scratching his nails against your scalp. “I’m really proud of how well you’ve been dealing with all these changes. I know that is even harder. The unexpected pregnancy, the…what do Americans call it? Shotgun wedding?”

“Changes are easier when I have you and Satoru,” you mumble against his shirt.

Suguru’s hands momentarily still. “You make things so hard on me, Squid.”

“I know.”

“It’s not for the reason you think.”

“What’s the reason, then?”

“Nothing that I can talk about.” Your brows furrowing, you tilt your head up, digging your chin against his stomach hard. With how toned it is, you doubt that he can feel it. Cryptic asshole. “Why don’t I start collecting curses again, hmm? It’s safer when they’re under my control.”

“No.”

Suguru rolls his eyes. “Who is treating who like glass now? Don’t you know? I’m Special Grade sorcerer, Geto Suguru. I can handle swallowing some cursed spirits—”

“I said no.”

As if you would add to his burden like that. As if you’d add fuel to the fire. Suguru doesn’t think that you and Satoru can’t see he’s in an episode right now. If he hadn’t been forcefully called out on that mission, you aren’t sure how long he’d go on with locking himself away from the outside world. The girls help bring a piece of the world to him, keep him afloat when he blocks you and Satoru out, and give you updates on how he’s doing.

It’s a slippery slope, the curse consumption. It’s like rot. Too much and it can fester inside him. It could be something else like the loss of a student. Sometimes, it’s reminders of that fateful day during second year of high school or that night that he found the twins.

Whatever the trigger, his episode always starts the same. Sleepless nights that leave him sleeping throughout the day to make up for it, though nothing ever helps ease that overwhelming exhaustion. Teaching drains what little energy he has. Parenting doesn’t help, either, because he always tries to put on the best face that he can in front of the girls despite how much he’s fraying at the edges.

So, a normally punctual Suguru begins to be late to work. The circles under his eyes grow darker. His lack of attention can almost match Satoru’s. Conversations are forgotten, plans are dropped. It builds. It’s when he starts missing meals, not only for himself but also for the girls, that his self-loathing gets bad. They know how to cook for themselves, but you always tell them to call you or Satoru immediately if they have to do it more often in a week than not.

“I’ll deal with it,” you insist. “I need a new hobby, anyway.” You lock your arms around him, squeezing tight. “I’ve had to watch a bunch of documentaries to help me sleep. Sharks are really cool.”

“We’ll take the kids to an aquarium, then,” he whispers.

“Promise?”

“I promise.”

Your eyes meet his. “Do you mean that? Are you done ignoring me and Satoru?”

Suguru closes his eyes, sighing softly. Then, he smiles, taking being called out in stride. And, by stride, you mean simply avoiding the conversation. “Shall I bring the girls to stay the night with us?”

“Please.”

“You’re so spoiled, Squid. You’re no better than Satoru.”

“You’d be spoiled, too, if you let us.”

“I’m already spoiled enough as it is.”

“How?”

Suguru gives you one last scritch on the scalp before he steps away and calls out, “Satoru, would you like to take me home so I can pick up the girls? Do you think we should stop for Megumi and Tsumiki?”

Pregnant lady privileges give you access to the shower first.

Throughout said shower, you can hear the raised voices of competitive children and Satoru as they all have a tournament on the old 64. It’s a welcome distraction since you got so scatterbrained that you forgot to bring clothes with you and have to sneak back to your bedroom.

There’s a hoodie on your side of the bed, one that you’ve never seen. Your expression softens at the sight of it. The bag off to the side tells you that this is something Satoru bought for you, and this is also his way of reaching out after your earlier argument. It’s both an olive branch and a warning that he wants to talk, that he’ll do it in good faith, and that if his natural bluntness comes off as rude or out of pocket then it’s unintentional.

You shove your face against the hoodie after you pick it up, rubbing your face against it like a cat because the material is so soft and feels so good. It’s thin, too, so it won’t leave you sweltering since your temperature is running hotter these days. It’s two-sizes too big, so even Satoru can fit in it. You wonder how far his sweetness goes—if he got it so big so that he could wear it because he likes how it feels or because he’ll leave his scent on it for you? It’s probably both.

“Kitten.”

Keeping the hoodie pressed against your cheek, you turn your head to pout at Suguru. “You’re meaner today than usual.”

“Giving you cute nicknames is mean?”

“How is squid cute? Octopi are the cutest cephalopod.”

Suguru merely hums and leaves it at that. You don’t miss the click of the lock behind him before he saunters over to stand beside you. “Earlier, you asked me how I’m spoiled,” he starts as he drops down on the edge of the mattress. “I had an answer, but it wasn’t an appropriate time to give it.” He glances up at you from under those thick lashes, with those violet eyes, acting so damn coy. “Do you want to hear it now?”

“Does it have to do with all those hickeys on Satoru’s neck?”

“It does.” You slide between his legs spread so wide that it’s obscene. The gesture, along with reaching out to grip his shoulders, is enough to tell him that you’re okay being touched today. You think you are, but then his hands brush along the side of your bump as he’s going to place his hands on your hips, and you flinch away from the touch with your whole body. “Shit. Sorry. I read you wrong—”

You check yourself. It wasn’t so much the touch, you think, as it was the reminder that Suguru has been…avoiding you a lot more than he does Satoru. “No. Um…” You rein it back in and stop touching him. “I want to make sure I’m not reading you wrong. We haven’t…y’know…since before I got knocked up. Well, before I started showing, anyway.” You wave a hand over your bump. “If this bothers you, I can go get Satoru.”

Suguru breathes out your name. “I don’t want him right now. I want you.” His gaze darts away, looking guilty. “I’m sorry. After you made the announcement, I didn’t want to cause you more stress.”

“When have I ever held back from telling you that I’m not up to it on any given day? Isn’t that how this whole thing between us three started? For the days when my libido and Satoru’s can’t synch up?”

Jujutsu sorcerers like to fuck.

When you live your life in such a bleak and deadly world, you cope however you can. It’s mostly through smoking, drinking, and sex. You, Satoru, and Suguru are no exception. Satoru may be the worst, though, because he never really has the chance to go all-out in the field. Most of the time, if he’s not overstimulated or mentally drained, then he’s buzzing with physical and mental energy. So, when he is home, he fucks like a stallion.

In your role, you work with people a lot. You may meet with the higher-ups more often than Satoru does to report on research or answer their questions after an incident. The more stressed you are, the easier it is for you to get overstimulated, and you don’t like to be touched when the world is screaming at you from every angle.

You don’t even remember how the idea came up…

Oh, it might’ve been you and Satoru making dirty jokes about sore wrists. After you and Satoru complained to Suguru about how old touching yourselves was getting, he offered himself up. It’s a win-win, he reasoned, because he’d been on too long a dry spell that he wanted to break, and you and Satoru could get your needs taken care of without one or the other feeling guilty or having your hands or fingers falling off.

Greedy you, greedy Satoru…how could you both turn that down?

“You’ve had a lot more to worry about the past five months than sucking my dick.”

“You ever think that sucking your dick makes me worry less?”

Suguru laughs and holds out a hand. “Come here, Squid.”

That’s how you end up where you are now. Face down, ass up, pillow tucked under your tummy, and Suguru doing his best to be quiet as he pounds into you in case any little ears are up against the door. You’re biting down on your chew necklace because it’ll be a cold day in hell before you willingly bite down on cloth for an extended amount of time. You don’t know how Satoru does it, but he doesn’t know how you can handle rolling around in wet sheets. If he forgives you now, he’ll be pissed again when he hears you dropped your towel and jumped Suguru’s bones.

The second trimester saw you getting hit by the horny truck. It hasn’t even been that long since he got his cock inside you, but you’re a fucking livewire these days. You exist on a low burn and you’re always on a hair trigger. Your nipples are off limits because the first trimester tenderness still has a chokehold on you, so he’s keeping his hands busy by spreading your cheeks and watching the slide of his cock in and out of you.

Suguru, who can get a little mean in bed, thumbs at your asshole, and that sends you over the edge. You catch yourself before you give the game away to the damn kids, throwing your head forward to bury your face and your moans in the mattress. Your entire body trembles and Suguru’s hips slow to a crawl, letting you come down without sensitivity, groaning quietly as your pussy tries to milk him for all he’s worth.

He hunches over, back bowed over yours, leaning until his breath is hot on the shell of your ear. “This is how you spoil me,” he husks as he reaches down between your legs. You hiss when his fingers quickly glide over your clit. “You and this perfect little pussy.” You roll your face against the sheets, moaning because if he doesn’t shut the fuck up, you might come again. “I can’t believe you thought that I wouldn’t want this.”

Panting, you turn your head to the side and spit out the gem-shaped silicone in your mouth. “Sorry for thinking that pregnancy doesn’t look good on me.”

“You should be sorry. It looks beautiful on you.” Your hand flies back, digging fingers into his ass, trying to keep him inside you when he slides out. You whine at the loss. “Impatient,” he chides. “On your back. Let me see that gorgeous body.” Heat crawls up the back of your neck, the tips of your ears.

“Stop it. You know I’m bad with sarcasm,” you grumble. You do as he says, though, and roll over. The pillow, previously under your stomach, is now in the small of your back and you sigh in relief. Your back has been aching something fierce lately. “Ugh, Suguru!” You cover your face with your hands because he’s staring at you. Gaze sweeping over your body, fingers following along with his eyes. “Stop looking! Leave that for Satoru.”

“It’s not sarcasm. Pregnancy looks so good on you.” You squeak when he grabs your hips, roughly hauling you down to settle the backs of your thighs over his. You’re not looking, but he slaps his cock against your pussy, making you squirm. You do dig a heel against his ass, trying to hurry him up. “It may have been an accident, but knowing that Satoru came inside you…” He slides back inside your pussy. “Knowing that it stuck…” His hands cup the sides of your bump. “You have no idea how jealous of him I’ve been.”

Your hands fall away from your face. “Okay.” Shyly, you reach down and lace your fingers through his. “Next time, I’ll let you accidentally knock me up.”

“It’s not an accident if it’s planned.”

The two of you snort and grin and you just start giggling. “You’re such an asshole.” You throw your arms over your eyes. You think you might cry. You’re a whirlwind of emotions—horniness and happiness with a shit-ton of longing. “Can you just let me say I wanna have your baby?”

I love you.

Would Satoru be mad if you said it now?

“A married woman saying things like that?” Finally, Suguru starts moving. It helps distract you from the words stuck in your teeth. “How lewd.”

“Pregnant Married Woman Begs for New Daddy—how’s that for a JAV title?” Suguru can’t hide the hitch in his breath, the way his fingers dig harder into your skin, how his thrusts pick up speed. You lift your arm up, peering at him, grinning in sadistic delight when you see how red his cheeks are. “Do you wanna be our daddy, Suguru?”

Suguru can talk all that sexy shit but can’t take it? Because he reaches down to start rubbing slow circles around your clit, knowing that letting your orgasm build slowly makes your brain leak out through your ears. Sure enough, the heat starts in your toes, and pleasure rushes through your veins.

“You first,” you breathe out as you clutch at his wrist. “Want that come inside me when I go off.”

“Whatever you want, darling.”

You’re not sure how long you doze after you and Suguru were done. He’d wiped you down because you hate your skin to be sticky, same as Satoru. Which, speaking of, he’s in bed with you when you wake up—propped back against the headboard, shirtless, and on the 3DS. You shuffle closer, putting your head in his lap, and listen to the familiar sounds of Ocarina of Time 3D.

“I can’t wait until the new Animal Crossing in November,” Satoru gripes.

“Just play Pokémon. Did you know that there’s this challenge that’s spreading around on the internet? It’s called Nuzlocke and it’s supposed to be super hard. It’s up your alley.” His thumbs briefly pause. You know the challenge entices him. “You’re not betraying Digimon by playing Pokémon, I promise.”

“Yeah, whatever.” He snaps the 3DS shut, not even bothering to save his progress.

You lean forward to kiss his tummy, right over the scar that runs from his neck down along the upper half of his body. The day that he got this scar…it was and still is such a stark reminder that, no matter what, all sorcerers share the same fate. Just because Aka Manto didn’t notice you doesn’t mean another spirit won’t. “I’m sorry, Satoru,” you apologize quietly. “I really did fuck up with this. It’s so easy for me to forget that these aren’t pets or even comparable with wild animals.”

“I get it, I guess. Well, not really. It’s like me cutting myself off from sweets and I don’t think I can do that. So, I don’t get what it feels like when you can’t be around your thing. Ugh. Why did we ever get in a relationship? Talking about feelings sucks.”

You giggle. “You’re doing well.”

“You’re not being sarcastic, are you? Because I’m kinda freaking out. I’ve got four months to get my shit together.” He digs the heels of his palms against his eyes, groaning with frustration. “Yeah, sure, I can handle teenagers or those kids out there.” He means the twins and Fushiguro siblings. “They’re not babies, though. What the fuck do I do with a baby? And, let’s be honest, those kids are all pretty fucked up already, but the thought that I can fuck a kid up?”

You raise up on an elbow, watching him. “Satoru…”

“Oh, Christ. I’m having an existential crisis, Sketch. I’m a walking cliché right now. What if I become my old man? Are you gonna end up resenting me, too? Holy fuck, what if we turn into my parents? I have a horrible personality. I’m so selfish and conceited. I’m going to hurt this kid. I—”

Oh, okay. Has Satoru ever had a panic attack? Because you think he might be having one. “Satoru,” you call out as you press your hand against his chest. Under the skin, his heart is beating like crazy. “Hey, Satoru, I need you to look at me.” He does as you ask, sparkling blue eyes a little crazed with his dread. “Why isn’t Infinity on?”

“Huh?” He blinks out of the haze and looks down at where you’re touching him. “What? Why the fuck would Infinity be on right now? You’re touching me.”

“Right, but you’re scared right now. Infinity is your defense mechanism. Sometimes, you don’t even realize it’s flaring up when you get overstimulated. It usually blocks everything out.”

He squints at you before he repeats, “You’re touching me.”

“If you were selfish, your body wouldn’t care that it’s me, right? You’re not even thinking about it consciously. Keeping me safe, even from yourself, is instinct.”

“You might be reaching…”

“You could’ve let the Zen’in clan take Megumi,” you point out. “You took in the children of the only man that’s ever gotten close to killing you.” You lift up from the mattress completely, yanking the sheets up and over your bare shoulders. “You actively participate in the system you hate because you want to rework it from the inside-out, top-down. You want to protect kids, so why wouldn’t that extend to your own?”

“Fine, I won’t actively hurt the kid and I’ll make sure they don’t get physically hurt. That doesn’t mean—”

The pieces start to add up. Suguru isn’t the only one that’s been spiraling. “Were you doing retail therapy? Is that what all the bags are for? Don’t answer. I already know.” No wonder he’s been so snippy lately. “We got shoved into this. I’m doing okay right now, but I’ve lost my shit sometimes when you’re not around. I’m scared shitless that I’ll end up exactly like my parents, too. But…if I keep thinking about it then I will end up like them. I’ll get so lost in my head that I ignore this baby.”

“You’ve lost your shit and didn’t tell me?”

“That’s what you’re focused on?” You shake your head, chuckling in disbelief. “Yes, I did. Because I’m pretty sure that having a mental breakdown is a rite of passage for soon-to-be parents.” Lacing your fingers through his, you give a reassuring squeeze. “I know how terrifying this is. This might not help calm you down because you’re a little bit of a control freak, but you need to get it in your head now that we’re never gonna have all the answers and we’re gonna fuck up. All we can do is apologize and try to do better.”

Satoru’s cheeks puff out and his bottom lip juts out. “I hate unknowns.”

“Like I said—control freak.”

“Shut up.” He tugs at your hand. “Hey, come here. Sit in my lap.”

“Yes, yes.”

Satoru holds out his other hand, letting you use them as support while you climb up to straddle his waist. He tilts his head forward, shoving his face right between your breasts, and sighs happily like the little pervert he is. You only encourage the behavior with your quiet giggling.

“Sorry for being a bitch earlier,” comes a muffled apology.

“You weren’t being a bitch. Dare I say…you were actually mature about it.” He digs his fingers into your ticklish side, making you squawk. “I’m being serious! You knew you didn’t have a level head and couldn’t handle it sensitively, so you went to get help.”

“Ha!” He leans away from your chest. “You’re definitely overthinking my actions. It boiled down to me not wanting to deal with you anymore.” Yeah, right. What a fucking liar. “And what good did it do me to get that asshole? He leaves me to babysit his kids while he fucks my pregnant wife.”

“Joke is on you because you’re into sloppy seconds.”

“Heh! Fuck yeah, I am.” He sighs sadly. “I wanna fuck you so bad right now. I wish I had the mental energy to get it up.”

“We’ll cuddle tonight and have really gross, lovey-dovey morning sex. Sound good?”

Satoru bats those big, stupidly blue eyes at you. This drama queen somehow has tears in them and his bottom lip wobbles as he asks, “Can I suck on your nipples? I promise I’ll be gentle.”

“We’ll see.” You run your fingers through his hair. “You did really good today. If they’re too sore, I’ll make you chocolate chip waffles, okay?”

“Best wife ever.”

***

In the morning, you spoil Satoru.

You’re in his lap, on his dick, and his mouth never leaves your tits.

It hurt when he first put his mouth on them, you’ll admit, but it’s not enough pain to overload your brain. It’s that addicting pain, like how good it feels to stretch out a sore muscle. If it was a bad day, you wouldn’t want to deal with the confliction. That’s how you know today will be a good one.

And why wouldn’t it be a good day?

It’s a full house. All your favorite people are here. Suguru is curled up in the guest bed, Nanako and Tsumiki on either side of him while Mimiko is sprawled out and drooling on his chest. Megumi is out on the couch. You only hope that you can convince them all to stay longer. It’s the weekend, so no school. You’re not above bribery.

You and Satoru slowly rock. His huge hands are on your ass, guiding your movements, doing more work than you are at lifting yourself up and down on his cock. The grip he’s got on your ass gets rougher as he gets closer to coming, so it spreads your cheeks apart. Gentle as it is, sweat still lines your skin and his, so he has to sometimes readjust his grip. That’s all to say that his fingers are getting close to your asshole. Just the memory has you quickening the pace.

“Want him here so bad,” you whine.

Satoru knows immediately who you mean. Talking about Suguru in bed isn’t new for you and Satoru. “Fuck, I know. He blew my back out yesterday. Hey, wanna hear a story?” He reaches down, thumbing at your clit. “Didn’t really jerk off until I got in high school. First fantasy? Fucking your sweet little pussy while he’s plowing my ass.” You bury your face in the crook of his neck, biting down to muffle your moan. “Yeah? You want that? One day, baby. Not now because no way I can be gentle when that’s going down.”

You pant against his neck. “We have to tell him.”

“We will,” Satoru swears. Your orgasm hits you like a freight train, and he swears. “Fuck, fuck, fuck! Yeah, we’re gonna fucking tell him. We’re putting a ring on that bastard’s finger.” You nod along deliriously, chanting your agreement. “We’ll romance the fuck out of him. I swear that this kid is gonna have three parents—aw, fuck, ‘m coming!”

Satoru licks his come out of you before it has the chance to drip down your thighs. After he’s done, he flops behind you, and winds his spindly limbs with yours. You didn’t even realize how early it is until Satoru’s phone flashes in the pre-dawn light and flaunts the time. There’s a little time before you two have to roll out of bed. Chocolate chip waffles with strawberries and whipped cream actually sound really good right now. You’ll make Satoru help so that the food will be done when everyone wakes up.

“Were you serious about it?” You hum in question. Satoru goes on to elaborate. “Were you coming or were you agreeing with me about telling him before the baby is born?”

“Both,” you answer bluntly. He snorts in amusement. “I’ve been thinking about how we can confess.”

“No way! Me, too!”

“I don’t even want to imagine what your idea is.”

“Rude,” he bites your shoulder in rebuke. “We can take him on a date night. Serenade him with some fine dining. Finish the night in a nice hotel—”

“I will never do fine dining ever again, Gojo Satoru.” Just the memory of the plates rotating in and out of the table with so many varying, awful textures…you gag. Your teeth start to hurt. “I don’t know how you’ve put up with that for your entire life.”

Satoru laughs. “They bribed me with desserts to put up with it.”

What a stark reminder that you and Satoru are two sides of the same coin. Whether it’s your parents telling you to starve for the night if you refused to eat something because you hated the texture or his parents bribing him to force himself to grin and bear it, it’s all the same. Even after you were diagnosed, your parents still forced you to eat whatever they made because they refused to make two dinners. You had to learn to not let the discomfort and disgust show because they’d make the same thing again, over and over until you liked it.

Filled with a sudden and fierce protectiveness, you roll over and face Satoru head on. He raises a brow at your sudden change of mood. “Infinity doesn’t recognize me as a threat,” you remind him. “So, I want you to know that I could rip your balls off, no problem. If our baby doesn’t like a food or the way something feels, no one is going to force them to put up with it. End of story.”

Satoru blinks, processing your threat. Then, slowly, he looks down between your bodies. “Oh.” His cheeks are flushed when he raises his head back up. “I’m hard.”

Somehow, you’ve been banished to the couch while Suguru and Satoru take charge of breakfast.

“Mister and Mister Control Freak,” you mutter under your breath as you shuffle out of the kitchen.

The couch is big enough that you don’t even touch Megumi when you sit down on the other side. You silently play a game on your own 3DS, trying not to wake him prematurely, but he starts to stir not soon after the smell of waffles fills the air. You reason that the girls won’t be far behind.

It’s cute, watching Megumi slowly lift up, spiky hair even wilder, blinking blearily. He harrumphs, so put upon by the waking world. You expect him to crawl off the couch and rummage around in his overnight bag to find a book to read, but he doesn’t do that. Instead, he scoots closer to you, almost touching you. His eyes droop and he starts slumping in your direction. Just before he presses against your side, he remembers himself.

Voice rough with sleep, he asks, “Can I?” It makes you gooey on the inside. Makes you want to give him shit, too. Because he can pretend to be the cool and stoic type all he wants, but he’s stupidly protective of his sister and he does sweet things like never forgetting to ask for permission to touch you.

“Yes,” you answer warmly. “Thank you for asking.”

Megumi grunts, slumps against you, puts his head on your shoulder, and yanks his blanket up over himself. You bump your cheek against his head affectionately. It’s not long of watching you game before he’s dozed off again.

Not long after, the girls emerge from the guest bedroom all at once.

Three sets of feet go running. You’re certain they’ll be lured to the kitchen by the aroma of breakfast, but they bypass it entirely, and sprint to where you are on the couch. Megumi is startled awake, and you cringe at the sound of three high-pitched voices calling out your name.

Your relationship with touch is…complicated. You’re starved for it, but you only want it from people you know. Even with them, you have to prepare for it. You try to reason with your brain that the girls are excited. They haven’t seen you in a little while. As most little girls are, they’re ecstatic about your pregnancy because they dream of when they can have that, too. But they dogpile you, crowding close, reaching their hands out to touch your baby bump. Nanako, in her excitement, even slips her hands under your shirt. Panic shoots through you and you jerk as if you’ve been electrocuted.

“Girls,” Suguru’s voice rises above the rest. You don’t look over your shoulder, but his disappointment is palpable. “What have we said about touching people?”

Suguru has only spoken with Nanako and Mimiko, but even Tsumiki knows the answer. In unison, they mutter, “Ask.” The sigh of relief you give when they back away makes you feel awful. “We’re sorry.”

“Dumbasses,” Megumi hisses at them all.

“Yo! Who taught you that word?” Satoru shouts from the kitchen. “Bad word!”

“You,” Megumi answers bluntly.

“Breakfast is ready,” Suguru announces.

Guilt and anxiety twist up your insides. For all your talk of not making your child do something, you worry about not being able to give them the things they’ll need. Babies don’t care about overstimulation. They’ll cry. When they’re older, they’ll crave this same kind of touch, and how horrible a mother would you be to deny them that? Parenting has no breaks. A child’s needs come before your own. Do you think you’ll be allowed to have days where you don’t talk? What if you’re in public with them and you have a breakdown?

“Squid.” Suguru is crouched down in front of you. “I see you spiraling.” He holds out a hand. “Come eat.”

“Not hungry,” you whisper. The anxiety has muted your hunger. “I want to go back to bed.”

“If Satoru dragged me out of my spiral, I have to do the same.” You scowl at him. How is that even fair? You weren’t the one to pull him out of his hole. “I’m being very nice right now. I won’t make you talk about it. I just need you to try and get a little something down. If it’s too loud in the kitchen, I’ll bring it out here.”

Right. Okay. You’ve dealt with being pushed to power through the overload for your entire life. If you want to be a good mother, then you’ll keep doing that. That’s what being a parent is, right? Sacrifice. If you can force yourself to do something so that your child never goes without, you’ll do that. It’s better to practice now.

With a shaky sigh, you take Suguru’s hand, and let him help you up to your feet.

***

Sunday night comes too soon.

When it’s only you and Satoru left in the penthouse, you start to scheme.

Try to, anyway.

The two of you are on the couch, hunched over Satoru’s laptop. You’re both hopeless when it comes to romance, so you think that the internet might be helpful. The two of you titter and fuss and argue over control of the laptop after the first search of ‘how to confess’ only brings up articles for high schoolers.

“Wait!” Satoru is dead serious when he declares, “We need to buy a house.”

Your eye twitches. “Satoru,” you start slowly as you pinch the bridge of your nose. “He hasn’t even said yes. We don’t know that he even will. Can we take this one step at a time, please?”

“Eh? We should start the process, though. We only have four months left and it feels like we have so much to do. On top of my assignments, my mother is on my ass about Inu no Hi. Oh, we’ve got the babymoon to schedule. And we have to go to parenting classes because it’s not like either of us are asking our parents for tips.” He brightens. “Oh! What about that? We’ll have him house hunt with us, and we’ll pop the question when we make our choice.”

If you think too hard about the list he rattled off, you will meltdown. Like you told him, one step at a time. Just ignore all the rest. “Pop the question? This isn’t marriage. We can’t be overbearing. He’s like me. He’ll hate grand gestures and a house is…big.”

“Why are you struggling so much with this? You were his best friend first. Hasn’t he dated before? What’d they do when they were trying to pick him up?”

“School in the sticks was awful for us. Everyone knew everyone. We were the weird kids who saw things that weren’t there and that stuck with us for the rest of our lives, even when we learned to hide it. So, yeah, he was hot by middle school, but no one was interested in the local freaks.”

Satoru flops back with a loud groan. “Could you guys have been any more pathetic?”

“Your sympathy astounds me, Satoru, truly,” you say dryly.

“I wish I’d had met you guys sooner,” he confesses after a moment of silence. “I was such a problem child, always throwing tantrums, so I think my parents would’ve thrown money at yours to let you guys live with me at the Gojo estate. I’d probably have a less shitty personality if I was around people who understood me.”

“That’s debatable.” He digs his toes into your ticklish side, and you swat his feet away with a squeal. “I think the worst parts of your personality come from the fact that you were super spoiled and raised to think you’re a god. I also think the good outweighs the bad, so don’t get self-conscious.”

“Me? Self-conscious? I don’t know the meaning of that, dear.” Satoru shifts his position and puts his head in your lap. It’s his favorite place, you swear. He’s on his back. As he’s looking you in the eye, he reaches up to touch your face. “Ever since I was a kid, I never thought that I could connect to someone the way I’ve done with you.”

Heat rushes to your cheeks. You do have to look away from the eye contact this time. “You liked Suguru way before you liked me, y’know.”

“No. It was definitely you first,” Satoru corrects. “Shoko clocked me crushing on you even before I realized it. You should’ve seen how protective Suguru was of you.” He gives an airy laugh. “That’s why I’m not worried about him saying no, Sketch. It’s you. How can someone not be head over heels for you?”

You burst out into tears.

Satoru rolls with it because you’re a ball of nervous, hormonal energy these days. If you cried easy before, it’s insane how fast it can happen now. “I love you!” You definitely shouted that. You’re also definitely sobbing loudly. It’s okay because it’s with him, in private. Then, you think about how he wouldn’t care if you were in public because Satoru is the same.

Is this what true love is supposed to be like?

Because Satoru has admitted that you’ve taught him so much about his true self, but he’s taught you to accept yourself. Satoru is so sure of himself, both cocky and authentic. He knows that he doesn’t understand things like social cues, and he could give a shit less when he misses them. He’s loud and brash, especially when he’s excited. He’s blunt and a lot of people don’t like that, but a lot do. Ijichi has admitted that it saved his life when Satoru told him to quit being a sorcerer. Students have thanked Satoru for the honesty because it pushed them harder, and they survived because of it.

“I love you!”

Satoru keeps laughing but lifts up to a sitting position. “Alright, alright. I got it.” He slips an arm around your shoulders, reeling you in close against his chest. Before you smush your face against his shirt, he kisses your forehead. “I love you, too.”

[nats-revival]

Jealous and possessive abby - not in a toxic or abusive way but maybe you guys went to a party and your ex or some random decided to act up and be crazy and start hitting on you when everyone knows you're hers so she starts getting protective and marking her territory - she never blames you for it but she just wants to remind you who you belong to so she feels better with your consent if course and you find it hot asf

𝙢𝙪𝙨𝙩 𝙗𝙚 𝙡𝙤𝙫𝙚 𝙤𝙣 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙗𝙧𝙖𝙞𝙣 | 𝙖. 𝙖𝙣𝙙𝙚𝙧𝙨𝙤𝙣

pairing: abby anderson x afab!reader

tags: alcohol consumption, mild language, theres a gross man, abby is possessive (per the request), i think that should be everything???, i still stuck at tagging

a/n: was lowkey stuck on this prompt bc i don’t remember the last time i did smth like this but also, i procrastinated like, a lot. tbh i don’t rlly ever proofread anything i write i just post it with a hope and a prayer but wtv! i hope yall enjoy this. 🤍😙😙

bodies filled the house you and abby were currently in. the air smelled like alcohol, sweat, and a mixture of cologne and cheap perfume. this wasn’t particularly your scene, but abby wanted to go since one of her friends were hosting the party. you sorta stood on the wall, nursing a cup of.. something abby mixed for you. she wanted to prepare your drink herself. yknow, cause people are weird and like dropping shit in your drink without your knowledge. the screen of your phone illuminates your features softly under the red and purple LED lights. nobody dared to bother you much because everyone knew you were abbys girl. god, she never shuts up about you! but it’s only because she loves you so much. she also did it because she wanted to make your relationship known, and she’d gladly knock the lights out of anyone who dared to approach you cause she didn’t play that game.

the necklace around your neck had her initial on it. she’d gifted it to you during valentines day last year. it glints a little from the light coming from the screen of your phone. you’d been mid sip when some piss drunk man came stumbling over to you. and suddenly your settings app looked interesting as hell! he stops infront of you with a woozy smile and a flushed face from drinking. lowkey, he was like, really ugly. he’s the kind of guy a girl would only fuck in the dark. “what’s a pretty girl like you doing all alone?” he asked as he looked you up and down with obviously lustful eyes. “ah, im.. actually not alone. im here with someone.” you say as you give him an awkward smile and a chuckle. “i don’t see ‘em. why dontcha come with me? we could go back ‘t my place.. maybe order somethin’ to eat.” you politely decline and give him another awkward smile. while trying to ward this man off, you text abby.

“theres some guy over here flirting w/ me, help!!” you text her while trying as much as possible to ignore the man. he was relentless! he just wouldn’t stop talking and making gross comments. you look up from your phone to find your girlfriend pushing her way to you, through the couples grinding against eachother and making out. she smiles as she approaches you, then wrapping her arm around your shoulders. you lean against her. “so, who’re you?” she asks as she looks at the man, then tossing him an icy glare. “who am i? why should i answer you?” the man had a raised eyebrow and he’d been holding a now empty cup. “well, cause you’re hitting on my girl. so you should probably tell me why you’re doing all this.” her voice was low, raspy and a bit threatening. her possessiveness was dumb attractive, and you surely felt a little hot!!! “hah, this is your girl? she’s outta your league, bro. just give ‘er up. ill treat ‘er soo much better.” the man had become bold. abby didn’t like that. “mm.. nah. she’s fine with me. aren’t you, baby?” she asks as she looks at you. you nod with a small, stupid smile on your face. she presses a kiss on your forehead before she looks back at the man.

her touch had lingered on your skin even when you knew she wasn’t touching you. she sits on one of the chairs with a sigh and you sit next to her. “god, people are so disgusting!” abby said as she lets out an exasperated sigh. she hated when people treated you that way. but you just couldn’t seem to forget that voice she spoke in. the raspiness made this sorta electricity shoot through your veins. she was rambling about something, but you’d began listening when she’d been nearly finished speaking “—that shit wasn’t okay, and nobody should be treating my girl like that. i mean, gosh, some people just really can’t take a hint can they? i was so close to punching him just like id done that other guy but i controlled myself. and, ill just say, it isn’t your fault. i just really don’t like that. you don’t deserve that. not at all.” her voice softens towards the end of her sentence as she places her hand on your thigh gently.

your hand finds itself over hers and you smile at her. “sometimes you gotta punch people for ‘em to understand, yknow?” abby says as she looked at you with the same softened gaze. “abby, no, i will absolutely not be punching anyone… that’s what i have you for. and you hit like, waaaaay harder.” you chuckled. “well, maybe i should show you how to hit real hard.” you shrug, and she smiles at you, giving your thigh a gentle squeeze. “how bout we get outta this shithole?” she suggested with a smile. “oh, yeah. let’s go. im literally starving!” the both of you nod as you begin walking off the porch. as you walk to the sidewalk, the guy from earlier comes running and stumbling out of the house. he was after abby. you noticed and alerted her. “oh shit, we’d better run!” she grabs your hand and the both of you run to her car, giggling and looking back at the man (whos running slow as a snail) and forward at her car.

[dorkagedoodles]

And there we have it folks - the end of Empyrean Book I! I sound like a parrot but just ... thank you so much for reading! Also, for everyone's convenience, the afterword is also in text under the "keep reading" bellow. <<< PREVIOUS ✧˖☆˖✧˖☆˖✧Page Archive✧˖☆˖✧˖☆˖✧

(To be continued ... ) AFTERWORD

I’ve been putting off writing this for way too long, thinking I have plenty of time until suddenly: BAM! December was upon me and the final update of Empyrean Book I was uploaded while I had the worst migraine in years and couldn’t even scramble together a last minute afterword. But here we go. I’ll try not to care about sounding professional or eloquent, just so I can get it done.

First I want to say a big thank you to everyone who've read Empyrean, all the way through or just a little bit, I’m grateful nonetheless. And extra big thank you to everyone who’s left comments or nice tags in the reblogs etc. I’m awful at responding, but I’ve seen them all and really, really appreciate it.

I worked on the book on and off for three years and I’m pretty happy with the end result. Of course, this is just the beginning of the story. I have an outline for the whole thing, aiming for a total of four books of similar length which will, as you can guess, take a loooooong time. Which brings me to my second point.

Empyrean will go on hiatus for the time being. For how long? I wish I knew. While Book 2 is all scripted and currently in the sketching stage, I have no idea when I’ll have enough finished pages for an update. Once I do, however, I’ll probably update as I finish the pages, rather than wait for the whole book to be complete.

I don’t think I need to explain much of why this is. It’s simply being an adult. It’s having rent, bills and a cat with special dietary needs. And what Empyrean brings in joy it certainly doesn’t bring in money, so ever since July I’ve drawn almost nothing but freelance work.

Despite that, I still feel positive about the future of Empyrean. It’s already been published in parts in a small Swedish magazine and I’ve met people and opened doors that would have been impossible, had I not created Empyrean. Long time followers might remember how I’ve long wanted to be able to support myself by making art. And right now? That's exactly what I’m doing.

Finishing Empyrean will take many years and, in the end, it might never even get picked up by a publisher. But I’m at peace with both of those things. I draw Empyrean entirely for myself and would continue to do so even if not a single other person was reading it. Though … as long as there’s at least one such person I will keep uploading it too!

Lastly, I’ve been looking into self-publishing and hope to give that a try. No solid plans yet, just counting costs, looking at kickstarters and such. I’m currently neck-deep in a big project, but once that’s over I can start thinking about it again. When the time comes, I will of course post about it.

I think that is all. It got a bit longer and ramblier than I planned but oh well.

Again, thank you so much for reading Empyrean! And until next time! -Hans

[lovelywoos]

my life, my seasons (teaser) | l.sm

genre: strangers to lovers, small town au, grumpy x sunshine; fluff, angst, comedy

↳ hometown cha cha cha x once upon a small town x summer strike inspired

pairings: gn!reader x lee seokmin, librarian!reader x handyman!seokmin

description: you're stuck in jeju for the summer having to run your grandma's library when you should be on vacation. things could not get worse. good thing lee seokmin, the man who you run into almost everyday, is there to make your summer a bit better.

word count estimation: 13k??

a/n - yes, dokyeom is inspired by hong dusik and yes, i love small town kdramas. anyways, please be patient as i hurriedly work on finishing and posting the final fic :') . comment or ask to be added to the tag list!

seokmin thinks he likes you.

he saw you practically every day. from then on, he wondered if he would ever have a bad day again as long as he saw you.

first, it was when he realized you would remember everything he said, all the small things, which was crazy because you couldn’t even remember what you had for dinner the day before.

it was a late night at the library. he had just finished tutoring his last student and you were closing the library.

seokmin had asked if you were hungry and you said no, only for you to be interrupted by the grumbling of your stomach saying otherwise. then that led to seokmin teasing you and you punching his shoulder, telling him to shut up.

so, he had ordered takeout to be delivered to the library for the both of you.

he had laid out all the side dishes for you as you unboxed the main dishes.

when you both finally sat down to eat, he has grabbed your chopsticks and split them for you, making you shy and then kick his foot gently under the table for mentioning your reaction.

what made him blush though was when he noticed you moved the dish of sliced cucumbers closer to you.

when he gave you a questioning look, you just shrugged, without even looking at him as you dug into the food, “you said you hate cucumbers.”

but it was definitely the time you were there for him when he felt the loneliest.

it was when mrs. park, the chinese restaurant owner, was a vendor at the summer festival in the next town over. she had called him when he happened to be with you.

the moment he ended the call and a cloudy look filled his eyes, you immediately picked up on it and asked what was wrong.

his words were brief. all he said was that mrs. park needed his help during a festival, but he declined, and mrs. park was not pleased.

you knew him well. you knew he hated disappointed the townspeople since it was his only job to fix their problems. but you also knew his trauma with crowded places, not that he knew you knew at the time.

so imagine his surprise when mrs. park texted him a blurry selfie the day of the festival and in that selfie was a beaming mrs. park and you in the background wearing an apron and hairnet with a dead look on your face.

“thank you for sending y/n in your place instead! she’s grumpy but a great worker!” she had texted.

seokmin had never asked you to go in his place.

a couple hours when he assumed you’d be home, he immediately called you.

“why’d you go in my place, y/n? i know you probably hated it the whole time,” he whined into the phone.

you laughed. and it comforted his soul. “why didn’t you tell me your fear of crowded places was real?”

his silence makes you sigh. “that day at the chinese restaurant with my friends, i accidentally overheard you and mrs. park talking about it. i didn’t mean to eavesdrop, i’m really sorry. and don’t feel bad for not doing something that you can’t do. it’s not your fault. if anything, let me do it.”

seokmin knows he likes you and he likes you so much that he doesn't know what to do about it.

[uceyliyahh]

UNDER YOUR TOUCH

Summary; After her difficult breakup, Tiana wanted to start anew with her life. That's when she realized her life would be better when she met him.

This fanfic is 18+! NO MINORS ALLOWED

word count: 4306

Smut warning; it’ll come in the story randomly so PLEASE PLEASE look out for it I’m not really good at writing ✍🏽 smuts but I’m improving at the moment.

Jey Uso X Tiana

AWFUL GRAMMAR IM GETTING BETTER I SWEAR LOL.

comments, likes, repost are appreciated I would love the constructive feedback in what area I need to approve in. 🤍

ALSO! I don’t not want nobody stealing my fanfics or take it as theirs that will be an issue fasho so keep it cute respectfully.

I only own my OC along with the make up scenarios

But I’ll be writing along the way since this story is in my drafts on Wattpad right now so yuh 💁🏽‍♀️

TAGS⬇️ lmk if you wanna be tagged 🏷️ @pinkwithhearts @420days @empressdede @jstarr86 @angiedawn02 @biancasreign @bebesobrielo @celesteheartsjey @charmed-dreamssss @fearlesschimera @paigereeder @papireigns-05 @hunnidmilly @zillasvilla @skyesthebomb @aikosilo @mselenalovebug @yana3sworld @xbriexx @partypoison00

15.

TIANA I was at work doing my clients' nails, focusing on putting the gems on their nails. I smiled at my work, knowing how good I was at it. While I was doing that, I saw that my phone pinged. Jey had texted me, but he had to wait for a little bit because I was focusing on their nails.

ZaddyJey🤍 sent 2+ messages ZaddyJey🤍: mamas Trin and em want to hangout at the beach today. ZaddyJey🤍: you down?

After finishing up my clients' nails, I took a picture of them smiling in satisfaction, knowing that I'd get them right every single time. Before they left, they sent me the money on Current while also giving me a good tip.

Mamas🩷: sorry I didn't respond quickly had to finish up a client. ZaddyJey🤍: it's all good mama but are you down to go? Mamas🩷: of course, I miss my girls anyways ZaddyJey🤍: a'ight then mama I'll come pick you up. Mamas🩷: okay papi I love you. 🫶🏼 ZaddyJey🤍: I love you too ma.

I loved Jey so much. He was like my safe place, somewhere I could be comfortable. He just knew all the right things to say.

He was so perfect for me.

✧.* I finally made it home after a long day at work today. I turned off the ignition in my car as I grabbed my purse and keys. I walked up to unlock the door, went inside the house, closed it behind me while I held onto the wall, and took off my shoes in the process.

I went upstairs to my bedroom to change into my swimsuit while I waited for Jey to come pick me up. Meanwhile, I was scrolling through my social media feed, liking everyone's story or post.

Noticing that Kehlani and Malakai were posted up yet again with each other saying how much they "loved" each other, which I call total bull shit when they're just trying to get underneath me and Jey's skin, but it ain't working.

'He's so delusional and so is she.'

I remember all those times when he would just beat me and belittle me. He is probably going to be doing the same thing to her, just like how he did me.

I heard loud music playing, knowing that it was Jey because he always be playing that loud ass music to be heard. I made sure I grabbed my purse along with my keys before heading downstairs to see my man.

Opening the door, I was greeted by this fine specimen standing there looking all good, with his silver chain on and his piercings on both of his ears. God, he never fails to look good.

I hugged him, standing on my tippy toes to kiss him as he scooped me up by my thighs, placed me on his car, and got between my legs.

"You so gorgeous baby." Jey said as he squeezed my thick ass.

I was touching all over his body while he gazed down at me, causing me to look up into his eyes innocently.

"Thank you papi, you look good yourself." I replied.

"Are you ready to go? They're waiting on us, " he asked. I nodded as he put me down on the ground, and we both went inside his car.

He pulled out of the driveway and began driving away towards the beach. He gave me the aux cord so that I could play my music in his car, which I loved because he and I could vibe out together.

ᴺᴼᵂᴾᴸᴬᵞᴵᴺᴳ : Matt Champion Fangs

He and I were vibing out to the song while his hand was on my thigh, focusing on the road as I pulled a pre-roll blunt out of my purse and lit it up.

I gave it a few puffs before giving it to Jey, letting him hit the blunt. Then, I sat back in my seat, listening to the song.

"I wanna count the freckles on your face" "Rearrange 'em, put 'em in the same place" I'm obsessed, I'm obsessed, I'm obsessed

I turned my head, admiring Jey's features. He was so handsome and so fine. How lucky am I to have him in my life right now?

If I hadn't met him, I probably would've been dealing with Malakai, honestly, like I'm so smitten with him. He passed me back the blunt as I continued to take a few more puffs out of it.

Little fangs, oh, little fangs, oh Little fangs, little fangs Little fangs, little fangs, little fangs Don't you take her fangs Little fangs, little fangs

I felt him squeeze my thigh with his hand while staring at me, looking into my features just like I was doing. We stopped at a red light as he leaned in closer to me, placing his lips on mine and grabbing my throat in the process.

We had a mini make-out session before the light could turn green. He couldn't keep his hands to himself.

Now move it left right left Gone take it back a couple steps Hands on your hips all night Hold my hand til it feels right Beat that left right left

I felt his hand snake underneath my pussy, rubbing it as I twitch a bit from his touch, feeling him smirk. I began going inside his trunks, stroking him up and down since he wanted to play.

He pulled away from the kiss as he saw that the light had turned green and began driving while I kept stroking him.

Gone take it back couple steps Hands on your hips all night Hold my hand till it feels right

SMUT WARNING He pulled down his trunks, giving me more access to him as I moved my hair to the side, placing my lips on his sensitive tip, hearing a moan escape his lips.

I was bobbing my head up and down on his dick, along with me stroking it, seeing him losing focus on the road for a bit.

I gazed up at him, seeing him gazing down at me, then back up at the road. I smiled at him as I continued to go down on him.

"S-shit mama..." Jey moaned as he rubbed against his beard with his available hand.

I swirled my tongue on his sensitive tip, tasting his pre-cum on my tongue as my drool was coming down my hand to his dick, covering it up.

I removed my lips from his dick as I stroked his dick up and down while gazing up at him smiling.

He found it, assuming that I was smiling at him like this.

"You like this papi? Me stroking you up and down?" I cooed at him.

Yeah, I picture you suckin' it on the sofa Eyes rolled back, somethin' like a coma Pick you up, ride around to my favorite albums Hit me up, cut me off, who be next?

"Fuck yes, mama...looking fine as hell." He managed to rasp.

I placed my mouth onto his pretty tip again as he threw his head back, moaning and groaning, trying to focus on the road.

My face felt flushed as I felt his dick twitching inside of my mouth, seeing him clenching his thighs tightly.

As I was deep-throating his dick, I felt tears coming down my face while his tip hit the back of my throat, causing me to gag on him.

"Keep goin', Mama, make me nut...fuck." I saw him gripping the wheel tightly.

When we text, freeze frame Grab your hand, freeze frame Tell me how you feel (tell me how you feel) Never feel real (never feel real)

His moans were heard all over the car as I continued to suck his tip, trying the manage the burning sensation that I was feeling in my jaw.

How was I supposed to know Ow-oh, that you only wanted me tonight?

After a while, he let out a loud groan while cumming all inside of my mouth as I pulled out, hearing that pop coming from my mouth.

SMUT OVER

I wiped the corner of my mouth, seeing his tatted chest heaving up and down as he looked at me, and I smiled at him.

"Damn, girl, yo' ass finna make me crash the damn car sucking me up like that." He said.

I chuckled at him while pulling up the camera on my phone to make sure I looked good so the girls wouldn't suspect anything.

Little fangs, oh, little fangs, oh Little fangs, little fangs Little fangs, little fangs, little fangs Don't you take her fangs Little fangs, little fangs

✧.* We finally made it to the beach; as we got out of the car, we saw the girls and guys lying down on their towels, enjoying the vitamin D.

They saw Jey and me coming towards them, and Trinity and Bianca approached me, hugging me while the guys were dabbing it up.

"Girl, why is yo' face so flushed?" Bianca asked as I got quiet as she knew hitting me in my arm.

I winched in pain while doing the same thing to her. "Ouch! The fuck B." She rolled her eyes at me while putting her hands on her hips.

"Girl, don't do that, yall is nasty, bro." She said.

"What happened?" Trinity asked.

"This girl gave her man head before they got here." Trinity covered her ears, not wanting to hear it knowing damn well she was doing that with Jonathan's ass.

We laughed with each other as we admired the guys playing and fighting with each other while we walked toward the fine specimens.

They saw us walking towards them as Jey walked up towards me, putting me in a position of a fucking Samoan drop as he ran us towards the water. Trying to fight him off of me, knowing that he was stronger than me as the Samoan dropped me into the water.

I came up from the water, seeing Jey laughing at me as I ran towards him, pushing him back into the waving waters.

"Oh my gosh, Josh, you're so childish!" I shouted as he continued to laugh at me.

Now move it left right left Gone take it back a couple steps Hands on your hips all night Hold my hand til it feels right Beat that left right left

He threw his hands up in defense, acting all innocent like he didn't just drop my ass in the damn ocean water.

I ran over to him, choking him from behind and climbing on his back like I'm such a type of monkey while he spun me around, causing me to scream, telling me to stop.

Gone take it back couple steps Hands on your hips all night Hold my hand till it feels right

He stopped spinning me around and held onto him tightly, feeling dizzy as he gazed up at me, chuckling.

"You done attempting to choke me out?" Jey asked as I nodded my head as he carried us back to Trinity and em.

Put yo hands up if ya ever been in love I know I hate it, I hate it as much as you, oh, oh Baby put your hands up if ya ever, if ya ever If ya ever been in, in love

I got off of him while sitting down on the towel, wrapping myself in the available towel, feeling cold already. Bianca and Trin came to sit next to me, seeing me wrapped up in a towel.

"Girl I know you ain't cold right now." Bianca questioned me.

"Yes, I am like very cold B." I said.

"Anyways, when are you and Jey gonna get married, girl?" She asked.

Everyone has been asking us the same question: When are we going to get married? Like I said before, I don't want to rush into marriage yet, and I know Jey doesn't want to rush into that either.

Again, I am very confident that Jey will be my husband and that I will have his babies.

"Guysss, I told yall ion wanna rush into that and Jey doesn't either." I said.

"Are you scared T?" Trinity asked.

I shook my head. "No, I just want it to be a disaster, and then we get divorced afterward. Ion wants that. I am confident enough to say I'll be his wife soon." They both nodded their heads as we watched the fine specimen playing around.

While we were watching them, I saw a familiar face, two familiar faces walking down the beach, holding hands. When I could make out the faces, I just knew that it was that bitch Malakai and Kehlani holding hands.

I scoffed as I tapped on Bianca pointing at them. "What the fuck?" Trinity started to catch on as her face scrunched up, seeing Kai and Kehlani.

"The fuck are they doing here?" Trinity said as she saw the couple.

"I don't know but I hope they don't start up no shit." I said as I folded my arms.

They made eye contact with us, smirking, and I rolled my eyes when I saw them coming up to us.

We all stood us as we folded our arms at them.

"Look who we have here, baby; it's Tiana and her little dogs." Kehlani said.

Our faces scrunched up while looking at each other and then back at them.

"Dogs? Girl, bye, don't fucking play with me." I said.

"Whatever I know, you're very devastated that I am with your ex now." I laughed at her loudly while placing my hands on my hips.

I could sense that her energy was off after I realized that Malakai was holding her back. They really had the nerve to show up here, trying to start something.

"For your information I am honestly happy with Jey I'm glad I can make him happy unlike someone." That's what set her off. She tried to come at me, but he managed to hold her back.

We saw the guys coming back, trying to see what was happening right now.

"Do we have a problem here?" Jey spoke in a husky tone, startling Malakai and Kehlani.

They both turned around and saw him standing there behind them, with Jey folding his arms above his chest.

He came over to me, wrapped his hand around my waist, and kissed me on the cheek. I could see that Kai felt triggered in some way.

"If there aren't any problems, y'all can leave." He said.

"You know what fuck you, Jey. I can't believe that you're with this bitch!" Kehlani yelled.

"Watch yo' mouth, Lani." I walked up in her face, giving her a push.

She tumbled a bit before getting in my face. But I stood my ground, not being scared of when she knew that I'll fuck her up.

Jey held me back as I went behind him, hearing her scoffing. "Yeah, go behind him you won't do shit." And that set me off as I pushed her harshly on the ground, getting on top of her and beating her head in.

I got really tired of her shit while I was bashing her head onto the ground, slapping her across the face. Meanwhile, Jey scooped me up by my waist while Malakai came to her aid.

"Mama, she isn't worth it. I told you not to waste your energy on her, okay?" Jey reassured me as I nodded my head.

"Tiana bro, what the fuck yo—I don't fucking care, Kai! I really don't, and you're going against your restraining order by messing with me. Leave me alone! Let me be happy for once, Kai! For once!" I cut him off before he could say anything.

"Nah, you had your stupid ass friends take you away from me all because I'd "abused you," Malakai said, throwing quotes, trying to gaslight me.

JEY I could see Tiana's energy shift, knowing that something like this was triggering her right now. Hearing them two going back and forth.

"No! Don't try to gaslight me nigga. You abused me and almost put me in the hospital! And my so-called "stupid." ass friends helped me get away from you to start somewhere fresh!" Tiana continued as I've seen tears coming down her cheeks.

I came up towards her, wrapping my arms around her waist, trying to calm her down.

"All those times, all of those haunting memories of you beating me, cheating on me. Making my life a living hell, wondering if someone would love somebody like me."

"and then your stupid ass parents are more delusional about it than you're, and it's sickening to my stomach, so please—-leave me the fuck alone."

It was silent as we all heard her muffled cries, and it just broke my heart to see her like this while dealing with this.

"Wow, I can't believe that you're playing the victim here after all I did for you." He said, scoffing when she heard that she was out of my grip, slapping him across the face hard.

Malakai held his face while looking at Tiana like she was crazy. Before he could do anything to her, I stepped up, pulled her behind me, and gazed up at the ol' boy.

"Yo' ass might wanna rethink your choices fuck boy." I said in a husky tone.

"Man fuck you, Jey? Is that what they call you?—yeah fuck you, she'll come to her senses."

"Nah, she's good where's at with me, unlike yo' ass having sloppy seconds over there." I pointed directly at Kehlani as she looked offended by my statement.

Bianca held Tiana's hand, pulling her away so they could comfort her while I defended her. I was so tired of his ass showing up and trying to degrade Tiana like she wasn't a human with feelings.

'Imma defend her every chance I get.'

"Uce c'mon he ain't worth it.  I promise you he ain't." Jimmy said as I looked over at Jon and then at Tiana, who was with Bianca and Trin.

I rubbed against my beard, chuckling darkly, "Nah uce you right, his ain't worth it c'mon let's go before I crash the fuck out." Grabbing everything that we had brought from the car.

✧.* We finally made it to Tiana's crib, seeing Bianca and Montez's car parked in the driveway. As we got out of the car together, I could tell that Tiana's energy was off.

She unlocks the door and goes inside the house as I close it behind us. I see her bending over and taking off her shoes before heading upstairs.

I followed her towards her bedroom, seeing her take off her clothes in front of me, knowing how am I with her doing that, especially right in front of me.

Seeing her pick out some fresh clothing to sleep in, I went behind her, wrapping my arms around her waist before scooping her up. Making her straddled on my lap naked.

Gazing up at her, I saw that her beautiful deer eyes were puffy from all of the crying she was doing. I caressed my thumb on her cheek gently. She held onto my hand while I did that, calming her nerves just a little bit.

Pulling her in a kiss as my lips were onto her thick ones.

"Let me know what's up mama. What's on your mind, baby?" I asked, placing my hands on her hips.

"A lot, Josh; it's a lot, " she said while looking down at her fingers and picking at them.

I grabbed her by the chin, making her look up at me so we could maintain eye contact. I could see in her eyes that she was tired mentally.

"You don't have to hide it in, princess; I'm right here, love." I grabbed her hand, kissing it softly.

Tiana began being vulnerable and honest with me, just explaining how she was feeling right now, feeling like she wasn't enough or too much to handle due to her being with his bitch ass.

It just made my heart hurt hearing her talk down on herself like this when she's the most beautiful woman I've ever been with. Everything about her is just perfect. This is something that god wanted me to have.

Before she finishes her sentence, I firmly grasp her by the throat, placing my soft lips onto hers and slipping my tongue inside her mouth.

Feeling myself getting hard underneath her, I maintain my composure gripping her thick ass firmly.

"You're—" between the kiss "enough—" feeling our tongues dancing around each other. "—baby" pulling away from the kiss as she gaze down at me.

She was playing in my mullet as I placed soft kisses on her neck, making her feel loved because that was all she needed.

I grabbed her breast, circling my tongue around the nipple as she moaned softly, feeling her grinding onto my lap.

I sat up while holding her tight as I removed my trunks, throwing them on the ground and making her sit down on my hardened dick.

"Josh?" She called me.

"What's up, mama? Let Daddy know what he can do to see that pretty smile of yours." I said while maintaining eye contact with her.

"Can you shower me with love and affection, please, Daddy?" Hearing her saying it so innocently just made me want to bend her ass over on this bed and fuck her brains out.

Nodding my head while rubbing against my beard. "Yeah mamas daddy's got'chu now c'mere." pinning her onto the bed kissing her all over her body.

SMUT WARNING

"Ouuu fuck Josh." Jey had her on the edge of the bed in back-shots beating her shit in while he gripped her hips tightly.

Her back was arched perfectly, only for him to see his view of her ass. Thrusting his hips deeply into her wet cunt.

He grabbed a whole load of her hair, making her back more arched than it already is as he fucked her deeply.

"S-shit! J-Josh!" She moaned while placing her hand on his stomach, trying to slow him down, but he grabbed her arm, putting it behind her back as he continued to pound into her.

"Mhm, take it mama, take this fucking dick." Jey rasped.

Pushing his dick deeply inside of her while she had her eyes rolling in the back of her head at the sensation that she was feeling.

Her walls clenched around his dick, hearing a groan escape from his lips, slapping her on her ass.

"Open up to me, mama...let Daddy stretch his pussy out." She loosened up for him as she felt him circling his hips, hitting her spot every single chance he got.

It felt like she was on cloud nine, feeling her breast jiggling to his movements. Skins were slapping against each other, which sounded the entire room.

Moans and groans were heard all over the room as he let go of her hair, replacing his hand in front of her throat.

"Throw that ass back on me, mama, make daddy nut." He whispered in her ear as she did what she was told to do.

Throwing her ass back onto him as he looked down, seeing his dick going in and out of her gushy insides, satisfied. Slapping her ass in the process.

He placed both of his hands in front of her throat, pounding into her vigorously to match her movements as she began to moan loudly.

Feeling the pressure of him constantly hitting her spot.

"Joshhhhh...." She whined as she felt a familiar pit going down her stomach.

he threw his head back In pleasure, biting down his bottom lip and looking how miserable she was.

"Is this—" smacks her ass, "daddy's pussy—" does it again. "Mamas?" She felt tears running down her cheeks while nodding her head, but that's the answer he wanted to hear.

He wanted her to say it, gripping the front of her throat a little more, not trying to hurt her.

"Use your words, baby."

"Y-yes! It's yours, Daddy! All yours!" she screamed like it was her last chance. Jey smirked, satisfied with her answer.

He could tell that her facial expressions were turning up, knowing that she was about to cum all over him, giving him the opportunity to thrust his hips deeper, making her feel every inch of him.

"Gimme' that shit, mama, nut all over daddy's dick." He encouraged her, talking her through it as she rolled her eyes in the back of her head.

Feeling her legs and body shake underneath him while he gave her punishing strokes that were only getting slower and sloppier with each thrust he gave.

Tiana let out a loud moan as she squirted all over Jey's dick, feeling it trickle down her leg, feeling defeated by him.

She tried pushing him away again due to the sensitivity that she was feeling after having a crazy orgasm, but he smacked her hands away, only making matters worse.

"I'm finna nut all in this pussy mama this good ass pussy fuck." After a few more deep strokes, Jey filled her up with his warm seeds, letting out a satisfying groan escaping his lips.

Pulling out and seeing his nut mixed with hers dripping out of her.

SMUT OVER.

Her body was shaking violently as I kissed her on her ass towards her back to calm her down, rubbing against her thighs.

"Fuck, Jey..." she mewled weakly, gazing down at him as he hovered over her making her feel small.

"I know, mama, I know. C'mon, let's go take a nice warm bath together, love." I said softly as I scooped her up in my arms, carrying her to her bathroom and shutting the door behind us.

Under Your Touch.

uceyjucey, biancabelairwwe, zillafatu and others liked your post.

tianasworld: away from all of the drama. 🧘🏻‍♀️

uceyjucey: faax mama tianasworld: @ uceyjucey 🤍 biancabelairwwe: I just love spending time with my girls. trinity_fatu: @ biancabelairwwe yesss B zillafatu: I see you uce theyhatekaii: 🙄 tianasworld: @ theyhatekaii gtfo like please

Read all comments.

zillafatu, jonathanfatu, MontezFordWWE and others liked your post.

uceyjucey: perfect view 😩 tianasworld: I'll forever be your perfect view 🤭 uceyjucey: @ tianasworld damn right mama. zillafatu: uce when is yall comin' to visit so we could all hang out fr fr uceyjucey: @ zillafatu soon cuzzo MontezFordWWE: mannn I wanted to see some action today bro jonathanfatu: @ MontezFordWWE welp to bad.

read all comments.

A/N: sighhh I guess Kehlani and Malakai don't understand the elephant in the room huh? They're so annoying I swear.

But I hope yall enjoy the chapter lmk in the comments below.

Stay Ucey.

[sambuckylibrary]

TFATWS Anniversary Event 2024

The @sambuckylibrary will be holding a The Falcon and the Winter Soldier Anniversary Event! The event will start on March 18th and run until April 28th. During that time, we will be reblogging and sharing the work you guys create here on our blog.

This event is not just for the creators, but for the commenters. You can post fanfiction, art, moodboards, edits, podfics, fic list recs, comments, etc. It’ll be a low-stakes event. No need to sign up. Just remember to tag @sambuckylibary in your post for each fill, and we will be tracking #tfatwsanniversary2024 for reblogs.

If you are posting on AO3, please add it toTFATWS Anniversary Event 2024 Collection.

Each week will have a different theme with prompts from Monday to Friday. Each prompt will also come with a badge you may use for it when you post. The weekly themes and their prompts will be:

For the text version of the information above as well as the FAQ and rules, check the information under “keep reading”.

WEEK 1 (March 18 - 24): THE WINTER SOLDIER TO PRE-INFINITY WAR

MONDAY: “I don’t think he’s the kind you save.”

TUESDAY: Sam Searches for Bucky

WEDNESDAY: “Can you move your seat up?”

THURSDAY: Team Up at the Airport

FRIDAY: On the Run

WEEK 2 (March 25 - 31) : INFINITY WAR TO PRE-TFATWS

MONDAY: Laying Low

TUESDAY: Reunite in Wakanda

WEDNESDAY: Soul Stone

THURSDAY: Victory Party

FRIDAY: 6 Months of Ghosting

WEEK 3 (April 1 - 7): The Falcon and the Winter Soldier

MONDAY: Couple's Therapy

TUESDAY: “Let me just walk you through a hypothetical.”

WEDNESDAY: Madripoor

THURSDAY: “You’re just gonna set me up like that, huh?”

FRIDAY: The Cookout

WEEK 4 (April 8 - 14): Post-TFATWS

MONDAY: Meanwhile, on the Boat...

TUESDAY: Divorce Arc

WEDNESDAY: Skrulls

THURSDAY: Better Thunderbolts Ideas

FRIDAY: Better Captain America 4 Ideas

WEEK 5 (April 15 - 21): AU Week

MONDAY: No Powers AU

TUESDAY: Period Piece

WEDNESDAY: Sci-fi/Fantasy AU

THURSDAY: Based on a Movie

FRIDAY: Ghost/Zombie AU

WEEK 6 (April 22 - 28): Sambucky Week

MONDAY: Didn’t Know They were Dating/Friends with Benefits

TUESDAY: Redwing

WEDNESDAY: Hurt/Comfort

THURSDAY: Separate, Long Vacations

FRIDAY: Dealer's Choice

FAQ

What is this?

It’s a SamBucky event.

Is there any pressure?

No pressure at all.

Can I fill more than one prompt with one piece of art/one fic?

Yes! You can fill one prompt with one piece of art or fic. You can try to fill all five prompts that week at once with one piece of art or fic. You can do any number in between.

Are there any prizes for making anything for this event?

Just the satisfaction that you made something cool.

Is it just SamBucky?

Yes please, just SamBucky. There can be side ships, but the main ship should be SamBucky.

How long will this event run?

It will run from March 18th and run until April 28th.

I heard there are badges I can use for each fill?

There are! You can find the badges here.

RULES AND GUIDELINES

What are the guidelines for the bingo?

I will be borrowing some of this from the MYSU Valentine’s Day Bingo 2022 Guidelines, since they were fantastic.

For Everyone:

1. Remember to @sambuckylibrary in the post as well as #tfatwsanniversary2024.

2. Please also tag the prompt you’re filling (for instance, if the square is “Redwing”, use “#redwing” as one of your tags when posting about it on Tumblr).

3. If you’re uploading to AO3, please:

a ) Say somewhere which prompt you’re filling.

b ) Add it to TFATWS Anniversary Event 2024 (TFATWS_Anniversary_Event_2024).

For Artists:

1. Create at least one piece of new art that can’t have been posted anywhere else before this.

2. All visual art forms are welcome:

a ) Gifsets, at least 3 gifs.

b ) Aesthetic boards or moodboards, at least 4 images each.

c ) Drawing/painting, that is not a sketch.

d) Fan video.

e) Graphics edit.

For Authors:

1. At least 500 words.

2. Posted on Tumblr or AO3.

3. Can be part of a series, but should work as a standalone.

For Podficcers:

1. The podfic should at least be 5 minutes long.

2. It should be posted on either Tumblr or AO3.

3. The podfic can be of a fic made for the event, a fic not made for the event while still adhering to the prompt, or a notfic.

For Fic Rec Lists:

1. You must have at least five fics or podfics on the rec list.

2. Make sure to give brief descriptions of the fics or podfics as well as their rating and wordcount.

For Commenters:

1. Any amount of comment counts, from a heart emoji (“❤️”) to an essay.

2. We would rather this be about what makes you happy and joyful about reading than any scathing critiques.

Things to be mindful of when creating:

For Sam

Avoid framing Sam only as a caretaker or emotional support for Bucky. Be mindful of Sam acting angry or aggressive in an out-of-character way and falling into the angry/sassy Black man trope (check out the MCU source material to help with character traits).

Avoid decentering Sam as a main character and refrain from focusing entirely on Bucky.

In art: avoid whitewashing Sam’s skin and research drawing Black characters.

General disclaimer: Race affects every aspect of his life, including interacting with police/government and the white structures of the world when it comes to performing his duties as Cap and simply being a Black man that lives in the U.S.

For Bucky

Avoid phrasing “flesh/normal/human hand” to refer to the contrast between his prosthetic arm and his right arm. The phrasing is ableist. You can simply refer to his prosthesis when relevant, otherwise use “right/left arm/hand”.

For more information, please check out this document suggested by @ninesdb on how to write Bucky as an amputee. @ninesdb is also open to questions if you have any queries not answered by the google doc.

Specific Tags:

Avoid tags in AO3 like “Sam Wilson is a Gift”, “Sam Wilson is a Saint”, and “Bucky Needs a Hug”.

Have fun and we look forward to your TFATWS Anniversary fics!

- The Mods

[blue-disco-lights]

First Line Analysis ✍️

Thank you sweet friends for the tag! @energievie @wehangout @bawlbrayker @suzy-queued @mybrainismelted

@sgtmickeyslaughter @lingy910y @rayrayor @ms-moonlight-inn

RULES: post the first lines of your last 10 fics/chapters posted on AO3 (if you have less than 10 fics posted, post the first lines of all your fics) and try to draw some conclusions.

“Hey Gallagher, you got a car?” Magnificent Mile 

“Asshole. Same as fuckin’ always,” Ian mumbled under his breath. Camp is a Battlefield (chapter 3)

Ian (9:14pm): hi babe gonna add some stuff to the grocery list in like 15 when i’m on break love u 😘 Groceries Mickey woke up to what felt like a bright projector light shining in his eyes. What the fuuuck. Chasing Waves

“Just one more signature … here… aaand, right here… and we should be all set.”  Running Into You Mickey sees him for the first time late on a Friday afternoon. Breathing Underwater He doesn’t know why they’d pair him up with Mickey Milkovich of all people. The Hall Monitors “Daaaad you don’t understand!! He gives us SO much homework. And he kept threatening to take everyone’s phones away today! We weren’t doing ANYthing!” The Parent-Teacher Conference (@galladrabbles series)  “Your brother’s an asshole, Mands,” Ian says as they walk from school, huddled together against the wind. Remember This? Conclusions: Well Ian apparently loves calling Mickey an asshole - he's either exasperated with him, or texting him cute emojis - and i think that's quite canon 😂 and i like starting off with someone talking to jump right into a scene i guess!

Tagging all of you incredible talents ✨ @jrooc @em-harlsnow @roryonic

@spookygingerr @spacerockwriting @depressedstressedlemonzest @look-i-love-u @palepinkgoat

@gallawitchxx @celestialmickey @sam-loves-seb @jessij1997 @ohkate

@transmurderbug @silvanshadow @thisdivorce @gembu-tortuesouscafeine

@southsidestory @ian-galagher @starcrossedsoulmates84 @stocious @the-rat-wins

@ifallonblackdays @solitarycreaturesthey @mmmichyyy @catgrassplantdad @atthedugouts

@mmmichyyy @shippergirl121fic @creepkinginc @honeyvanillin @darlingian

@thepupperino @crossmydna @sweetbee78 @gallabitch73 @too-schoolforcool

[exquisitesimp]

Comforting Akutagawa during a mental breakdown

A/N: Hello to everyone reading this! I’m back at it again with Bungo Stray Dogs, more particularly the Port Mafia. In this story, the reader (F) is giving comfort and affection to her emotionally damaged boyfriend Akutagawa, after an unfortunate encounter with his old mentor figure (aku was my first love in bsd). Thank you so much for reading and interacting with my posts, it means so much to me! Stay healthy, eat well and drink plenty of water! - Sam

Tags: Bungo Stray Dogs, Akutagawa Ryunosuke, angst, reverse comfort, SFW

Warnings: mental breakdown, emotional and physical abuse, NSSI

Word Count: approx. 4.8k

It was one of these nights again; these difficult, heart-wrenching nights that constantly made you question the meaning of such a life, a life filled with pain and suffering. You’ve become a little too familiar with this feeling since you’ve experienced, well… a little too many nights like these. 

“Remember what you’re doing all this for!” you exclaimed. 

Except there was nobody there to listen, save for the librarian that was sick of having you be the last one to leave the library in the dark hours of the early morning for the fifth time this week. Talking to the void, maybe all that studying did drive you insane after all. 

“You scared the life out of me, for the love of god!”, the lady gasped, jumping awake from the information desk. Poor her, she probably hated these nights even more than you did.

“I’m terribly sorry”, you said, chuckling in awful embarrassment.

She gave you a cold stare, which truthfully saddened you deep down, because you were under the false impression that you had bonded with the woman by now.

“Don’t look at me like that ma’am”, you said, “You know med school isn’t a piece of cake…”

“I know dear”, she responded with a certain sweetness in her voice and a tired sigh, “but isn’t it time to go home soon?”

You looked at the clock above the information desk. It read 2:45. A look of desperation channeled itself on your face as you were thinking about just how much more work you had ahead of you before you could allow yourself to go home and finally get some shuteye. 

“Just one more unit, I promise!” you lied, knowing damn well that it was much, much more than that.

“Pfftt….Like we haven’t heard that before…” the librarian mumbled as she began moving around all sorts of books and paper sheets around the information desk.

Of all the times during the day she could get that taken care of, she had to do it right now? The noise she made was getting on your nerves and messed with your focus. However, you knew she was going to kick you out for sure if you dared complain about it. So you just decided to let it go, for your own good perhaps…

Resting your head which had grown quite heavy and dizzy on top of the open books, you sighed in exhaustion, waiting for the woman to stop messing with the papers and your concentration along with them. Wondering how the hell you were supposed to pass all these exams the following week, you were just sitting there, beating yourself up for always leaving things for the last possible moment. But not even a minute later, your phone, which was laying on the table, suddenly buzzed and stopped your overthinking. 

It was a voice message from your boyfriend, a little smile subtly forming on your face upon seeing the notification. You’ve been together for almost a year, but the habit of smiling at his texts hasn't faded away whatsoever.

“Ma’am, can I pleeaase use my phone?”, you joked, since there was obviously nobody there to be disturbed by mobile phone usage… except for the poor lady of course. “It’s my sweetheart!”

A few moments of deadly silence followed. From the look on her face, you’d think she was finally done with your smart-ass idiocy. 

“Eh, to hell with it…” she responded, having accepted — to your grand surprise — that she’d have you here for quite a while once again.

“God bless your patience! I shall treat you to a huge meal once these detestable exams are over!”, you proclaimed in comedic exaggeration, yet genuinely wanting to express your gratitude to her in some sort of way. With your late-night hypertension and your endearingly annoying sense of humor, you could imagine that having you study here all these days must have been quite a handful. 

“Who said I wanted to have a meal with you?”, she shrugged and rolled her eyes. 

Purposefully ignoring her rhetorical question with a smile on your face, you opened the message and placed your phone next to your head with the speaker facing your ear, the woman sighing at your shenanigan in the background. 

“Hey, Y/N…” 

You didn’t expect to hear Gin’s voice. 

“Listen… I found my brother’s phone in a dark alley on the ground, and it’s all cracked up now, and I’m not quite sure what happened... He was still supposed to be here, but I assume there was some big trouble and he had to flee. Problem is— TACHIHARA CAN YOU JUST SHUT THE F— sorry about that… problem is I contacted our headquarters and he’s not there” 

Your eyes opened wide as the message kept on playing. Two opposing forces fighting in your brain; one worrying that something terrible has happened to him, the other trying to remain cool-headed since you didn’t know any crucial details about the situation.

“My guess would be that he’s at your place. I know you have a lot of work to do in the library, but please check if everything’s okay with him. Gotta go, the Armed Detective Agency is just around the corner”

You heard the words “Armed Detective Agency” and you instantly knew what this was about. 

“Oh fuck” you said out loud and stood up from your desk as if struck by some invisible thunder.

“What is it this time?”, the librarian desperately asked.

“It’s your lucky day”, you replied, packing up your bag in quick, messy movements, “I’ve got to go right now”

“Good grace”, she mumbled as she started switching off the lights to finally close the place down for the night.

“Thanks for everything!”, you shouted hurriedly, storming out of the university library and rushing to the parking lot.

You jumped in your car and immediately started the engine. You already knew by now that no encounter with the Agency could possibly be any good for Akutagawa. And this time, you had a strong feeling that something was very, very wrong.

In less than half the time it would usually take, you sloppily drove back to your apartment, very lucky that you hadn’t crushed the car onto anything on the way there. Running with light steps and pushing through your own fatigue, you finally reached the door and knocked on it.

“Sweetie?”, you called out softly. 

There was complete silence on the other side, a type of silence that grew an unshakeable fear within you. After taking a deep breath, you reached for the keys in the pocket of your jacket and slowly opened the door.

You took a good look at the living room before entering, and everything was exactly the way you left it, including the little lamp you always kept switched on even when nobody was home. From where you were standing, nothing seemed wrong with the kitchen either. At first glance it all looked perfectly normal, but there was something very intuitively suspicious about this quietness that consumed the entire place. 

Due to your intensive studying at the library the past few days, you ended up coming home at times like these almost every day, and you found the emptiness to be serene, and even comforting in its own way. But now it was frantically maddening, as if you’d be crazy to assume someone else was here, but equally as insane to think that you were totally alone.

You gulped as you took a few steps in and closed the door behind you, cold shivers running down your body. Only while taking off your own shoes did you look down to check if his were there, and much to your relief, they were just beside the door. You immediately felt a weight fall off your shoulders, knowing now that nobody had broken in or that you weren’t… imagining things.

You quietly made your way right in front of the shut door of your bedroom, and since you already passed by the empty bathroom, you knew that was the only place where he could possibly be. Just by standing there you felt a dark chilly aura strike you down to the bone. 

Knowing about his occupation and even his abusive past, you were already aware that Akutagawa was very much capable of becoming violent. But this wasn’t the first time he went through a crisis like this with you, so you had faith that if you stood there for him once again, it would all work out, just like the previous times.

You plucked up all the courage you had inside you and knocked on the door. 

“Sweetie?”, you repeated. “Are you alright?”  

Once again, no answer. At this point you started getting worried. That was the only place he could be, right? Then why was he not responding?

Making the tiniest amount of sound possible, you pushed the door open ever so slightly to peek through the crack, and that’s when you saw something you’ve never witnessed before.

Although the light switch was on, the room was pitch black with only a few strands of light somehow making their way through. Sinister branches of darkness were spread all over, some intertwined with one another in an infernal veil, and others ruthlessly piercing the entirety of the space like enormous, sharp blades. 

You were completely astounded. You had no idea that Rashoumon could take on such a petrifying form.

Before you could even begin to grasp the density and the complexity of what your eyes just viewed, the door was somehow explosively shut inches away from your face, causing you to gasp at the thunderous noise.

“HOW MANY TIMES HAVE I TOLD YOU ABOUT THE DOOR?”, Akutagawa yelled, his strung out voice echoing within his ability’s construction. 

“I’m sorry sweetie”, you responded peacefully, “I just wanted to check if you’re okay…”

“What does this look like to you?” he asked sarcastically, while Rashoumon locked the door from the inside, eliminating any possibility that he’d just let you in that easily.

“What I meant is, are you physically okay? Did you get hurt?”, you asked, trying to maintain your calm composure.

“I’m intact”, he answered as if even such a small question was so immensely bothersome to him at that moment, “now LEAVE. ME. ALONE!”

“How am I supposed to leave you alone in a state like this?”

He didn’t respond, but it’s not like you expected him to. Hurt and afraid, he always hid inside his hard shell at times like this, and it took a lot of strength and effort to get him to open up to you. You took a big breath, because the difficult part was just starting. 

“Your sister found your phone somewhere in the city and contacted me…”, you began.

“I don’t wanna talk about this…” he growled as rage kept building up within him.

“I know it’s difficult to talk right no—“

“THEN CUT IT OUT”, he screamed with a trembling voice and paused for a second, “before I break the door…”

“You don’t have to talk about it right now, but please just listen”.

You paused for a while to see what his reaction would be. Although he was once again mute, you were quite happy that you didn’t get smashed by the door; it meant he was waiting for you to speak.

“I know you’re not feeling well right now, and I just want to let you know that it’s totally okay to feel this way, even though I don’t know what exactly happened… I just wanted to tell you…”.

Another silence-filled pause ensured you that he was still listening.

“You did the right thing to come here, sweetie… The fact that you’re here right now means that even if you want me to leave you alone this instant, some part of you wants to find comfort here… And that’s exactly what I want to do for you right now. I just want to make it better, I promise. Please, Aku…Let me help you…” 

No response.

“I’ll be waiting right behind the door for as long as you need. Please don’t break me along with it, or better yet, let me in whenever you feel like…”

It wasn’t much later that you heard the door finally unlock behind you, so you stood up, carefully opened it, and saw that your previously unimaginably ominous room was now just the way you remembered it.

Akutagawa was sitting on the floor in the corner across the room, curled up so he could take up as little space as possible. He had wrapped his arms around his knees and held them closely against his chest. His cloak was thrown over his shoulders, covering most of his upper body and his head was buried on his forearms.

You quietly approached him and sat next to him to keep him at ease. All these months in a relationship with him taught you that at times like these, he felt threatened by people sitting right opposite him, and didn't respond to them so well. He also deeply despised being looked at when he’s in such a vulnerable state, so you respected his wishes and looked at the floor, avoiding his eyes at all costs.

“Take your time, sweetie. I’m here to listen”, you said after a minute or two. 

He took a big breath before lifting his head up, while you made sure to make him feel as comfortable as you could, based on his own individual terms.

“The Command Unit was sent to the center of Yokohama to investigate some strange movements in the black market… and there, I ran into that stupid weretiger...”

“Mhm hm”, you nodded as you kept listening carefully.

“We started a fight and I had cornered him in this alley… that was all until he showed up…”

“Dazai?”, you asked, just to make sure your assumptions were correct.

“Yes…” , he answered as his voice got weaker. “He nullified my ability and told the weretiger to leave, so it was just the two of us…”

You noticed it was getting harder and harder for him to speak as the conversation shifted towards Dazai. It was no surprise since he’d talked to you about him before but it was, nonetheless, upsetting to hear.

“No…”, you said, “and what did he do?”

“Well, he…”, Akutagawa said and then paused as if to collect himself, “he kicked me right below the chest and I was on the ground coughing…”

He took a breath, before proceeding to give you the rest of the story.

“And he said some things… something about the weretiger being better than me… but I’ve heard that before…”

“Aw sweetie—“

“He knows…”, he said, burying his head on his knees once again. “He found out about my disease somehow…”

When you heard him quietly weep, you moved a little closer to him, just enough so that he didn’t feel alone in this difficult, doleful moment. Before you could even begin to ask how Dazai managed to find that out, Akutagawa jumped into your arms and buried his head on your shoulder, letting his black cloak fall off his frail body.

As he did that, you didn’t fail to notice that his white shirt had bloody stains on each sleeve, a little bit above the length of the elbow. Both sides had five holes each, one for each of his own fingers that had been digging into his skin, scratching and ripping it apart.

You were so upset, but you realized that it would be no good to address it right now. So instead, you wrapped him up in the warm embrace that he desperately needed at the time.

“That lung disease you have is going to kill you soon… Maybe then, I’ll consider coming back to the Port Mafia… Such a shame that… even when you leave your last pathetic breath… there won’t have been a single moment… when you were better than my new apprentice…” 

“That’s what he said to me…”, he uttered, sobbing in between these nasty, horrible phrases. 

Your eyes started watering as you squeezed him tighter against you. It was beyond you how anybody could be so viciously cruel to someone so loyal and devoted, even if fate brought it so that they parted ways.

“That’s so hurtful…”, you whispered as tears were running down your cheeks. “It’s okay… Let it all out, I’m right here…”

“Why? Just why?!”, he cried in anguish, “How much more must I do? When will all this be over? When will I ever be enough?!”

You didn’t know how to respond to such questions at times like these, so you just let him lash out until he hopefully calmed down eventually. 

“What am I saying? That’s never gonna happen…”, he lamented as his body started shivering, “I’m so sorry, Y/N… I’m a worthless and pathetic fool…”

“That’s not true…please stop saying things like that…”, you pleaded.

“I’m just gonna die so pointlessly… And it won’t even matter to him…”

“Well it’s gonna matter to me!”, you raised the tone of your voice, verklempt and teary-eyed.

His chest kept pumping against yours as he was struggling for breath. 

“I’m so sorry my love…”, you apologized, fearing that all you just did was worsen his situation by letting your own emotions take over. He tried to say something, but in this state, coherent words couldn’t come out of his mouth.

You had to stay strong and help him during this difficult time. Right now, the situation wasn't about you.

“Listen to me, let’s take some deep breaths okay? Breathe in till four, hold till four, and breathe out till six. Can you do that for me?”

You felt him nodding yes, lifting his head up and letting his chin rest on your shoulder. 

“Perfect, I’ll count: 1, 2, 3, 4, 1, 2, 3, 4, 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6…”

Akutagawa tried to follow your count as much as he could. You had to do this exercise about fifteen times before his breathing took its normal pace back. Your hand was always gently caressing the back of his head, and with every round you completed, you made sure that he knew he was doing a good job. 

“I’m so proud of you”, you murmured and kissed his temple, “are you feeling any better now?”.

He nodded yes and sniffed his nose.

“Can I look at you?”, you asked.

He sighed, then nodded yes once again. Once he let go, you gently cupped his face and lifted his head up so you could look at him. His poor, restless eyes were ever so red and puffy from all the tears he’d been shedding.

“My sweet Aku…”, you whispered, “if only there was something I could do to take your suffering away… I can only imagine how terrible it feels to be treated so horribly by someone you look up to so much, to always feel like you’re the second option…”

You paused to take a big breath and collect yourself. 

“And I know it’s not the same to hear it from me… but you’re always going to be my first choice… always…” 

A sad, bitter smile morphed into your boyfriend’s face upon hearing these words, as if they were half-empty, not coming from a certain someone he’d want to hear them from instead.

“I’ll always be here for you… You’re my everything, my love… I love you more than anyone and anything in this world… And seeing you suffer like this… it crushes me…”

Akutagawa sat there in silence, guiltful and grey, shifting his gaze to the cold, hard floor. 

“Especially this…” you said with a cracking voice, and looked at the red stains on his sleeves, “this just… it breaks my heart…”

His withering eyes were filling up with tears again. 

“Promise me you won’t do it again…please…”, you begged.

“I promise…I’m so sorry…”

“Don’t be sorry sweetie, none of this makes you weak in my eyes…. You’re so strong… so much more than you think…”

You looked at him sweetly before pulling him closer to give him a soft kiss on the mouth, his lips passive, almost motionless against yours.

“Now go have a warm shower, you need to relax”, you said, getting up from the floor and offering him a helping hand to stand up as well. “Make sure that a lot of water runs over your wounds. I’ll take care of them once you’re done, okay?”

“Okay”, he answered, giving you his hand, letting you pull him up and still hold him all the way to the bathroom. 

“Thank you so much, Y/N… really…” 

“Don’t mention it”, you responded lovingly.

As he shut the door behind him, you immediately got this morbid feeling, this insurmountable urge to break down and cry. 

You loved him with all your heart, but in comparison to even the tiniest praise from Dazai, your love for Akutagawa didn’t matter nearly as much to him. And that thought pained you so much, it cut deeper than a knife… In a way, you could even say you understood him, knowing that your one and only was gonna leave you soon, and that you’ll always come second, till the last moment… till his last moment, his very last breath…

It was all so devastating… But as you pushed the tears back, you remembered the promise that you made to yourself when you first got into a relationship with him; no matter how hard things got, you were gonna love this person as much as you could, for as long as you could… Until the very end, you had to be his pillar of strength and continue cherishing him no matter how much it hurt you in the process. 

And you loved him so much, you wouldn’t have it any other way. 

“Hey Gin”, you spoke to your phone as you recorded a voice message for her, “I found him, he was at my place. He’s okay, he has a few surface wounds on his arms, most probably nothing to worry about. You can let your boss and the others know that he’s safe and that he’ll stay here for the next couple of hours… And, by the way, thank you for contacting me as soon as you found his phone….Things might’ve been worse, had it not been for you… Call me if you need anything”

As you hit “send”, Akutagawa walked out of the bathroom, wearing an oversized white t-shirt and plaid black and white pajama bottoms, with the towel he used to dry his hair thrown around his neck.

“Feeling more comfortable now?” you asked. 

“Yeah”, he responded.

“Good. Now come here, let me see your arms…”

He made his way next to you, letting you investigate his wounds.

“Hmm…”, you said, lost in thought, “they’re not as deep, so you’re not gonna need any stitches… but they do look a bit inflamed… we definitely need to disinfect these”

You took him by the hand back in the bathroom again, where you kept your medical kit. You grabbed the disinfectant bottle and lathered some liquid over a big piece of sterile cotton. 

“I gotta warn you sweetie, this might burn a little…”

“Yeah, like I haven’t had worse– OWW!!”, he exclaimed as you pressed it against his wounds.

“I’m sorry, perhaps I wouldn’t have to do this if you hadn’t used your own hands. You were out fighting, who knows how many germs they had…”

“It burns…”, he hissed, clenching his jaw.

“Warned you…”, you responded. “You’ve never used disinfectant before?”

“Do you really think people in the mafia care to use this sh– AUGHH!”, he snarled once again as you repeated the same treatment to his other arm. 

“We’re almost done now…” you reassured him as he gave you the most displeased, irritated stare.

“Hmm let’s see…” you mumbled to yourself while searching the contents of your kit, “I don’t have big enough band-aids for this… guess we’ll have to cover them with something else…”

You opened up two bandages, and with a little hesitation, Akutagawa let you wrap them around his arms tightly.

“All patched up!” you said, giving his boney shoulders a light squeeze, “Is there anything I can make for you? Anything to eat? Some tea maybe?”

“No, I think I’m gonna throw up if I do…”

“Yeah, we wouldn’t want that… Okay then, I think we should go to bed and get some rest, no?”

“Yeah…”

After you changed into your pajamas and brushed your teeth, you made your way into the fluffy futon and scooched over for Akutagawa to join you shortly after. While he is generally the quiet type, this time you could tell that he was way too tired even for the short-lived, yet endearing small talk before bed. 

“My eyes hurt…” Akutagawa murmured as he slid next to you.

“I know, sweetie…Come here…”, you said, lifting up the cover and inviting him close to you.

Your boyfriend found his way into your arms again, his tired head buried in your chest and his thinned body clinging onto yours, the entirety of his being searching for warmth within your embrace. The comforting motions of your hands caressing his back and the sound of your heartbeat was everything he could ask for at the time.

“Feels like you’ve lost more weight…”, you pointed out as you grazed your fingers over the prominent parts of his skeleton, “Have you been eating well lately?”

“Mm-mm”, he shook his head no after a short pause, as if to adjust his thinking to your own standards of self-preservation. To him, if he made it out alive at the end, what was there to care for?

“Well that’s no good…I’m making you fluffy pancakes and your favorite tea in the morning”, you said knowing that, being starved of affection almost his entire life, he found these simple acts of kindness to be a huge deal. His contentment was clear as day, flowing through you as he pulled himself closer, practically sealing shut whatever space there was between the two of you.

“Thank you…”, he purred against your chest, the mere sweetness of his adorable reaction leading you to plant gentle kisses on the top of his head.

“Anything for you sweetie… I just want you to take care of yourself. Undereating can’t do any good to your condition… And I want to keep you around as much as possible, make as many happy memories together as we can…Like that time when you took me to dinner with the mafia for the first time and Higuchi kept warning me not to hurt your feelings or ‘I’ll be dead’...”

“Tsk, that piss-off…” he mumbled in a mix of displeasure and nostalgia, getting annoyed just by remembering the event, but being strangely happy that he got to experience it with you. 

“It made me very happy that you apologized to her…”

“After you told me I was acting just like him, I had no choice…”

“And I’m so proud of you for that, sweetie…” you whispered, running your fingers through his hair

“I still remember when we had Gin and Chuuya over for my birthday and we played that drinking game he had suggested. I’m pretty sure at some point he stopped caring about the rules and started losing on purpose…Ah, what an iconic day…Oh, and that day when I first told you that I loved you…Hahah, you were so awkward whenever I told you that on the phone. It took you a couple of weeks before you were brave enough to say it back to me... But it’s okay, I’m not blaming you, it’s most wise to wait for the time when you are a hundred percent sure that you feel the same way for me… Hey, what about the day of our first date–”

You’d been talking for quite a while now, vocally walking down memory lane, too absent-minded to notice that Akutagawa was fast asleep by then. Your melancholic monologue got softly interrupted by his faint, quiet snores. 

“Aww of course. I almost forgot how easily you fall asleep whenever I start rambling like this…”

You slid your hands under his shirt and felt the soft skin on his back. His hold on you was more relaxed, but far from apathetic, as if what remained of his slowly melting tension was love, and only love. 

You smiled, feeling infinitely blessed that your boyfriend was there with you, that you were listening to his slow breathing as he was drifting somewhere far away. Your eyelids had been feeling heavy for a while, but before you joined him, you wanted to get some things off your chest; somethings you truly wanted Akutagawa to know, even though you knew that he wouldn’t hear much of it in his sleep.

“Aku, my sweetheart… You are worth so much more than you think. You are enough— no, you’re even more than that… And I wish I had the means to show you just how much you mean to me… Oh, if only I could make you feel even half of my love…”

A/N: Akutagawa cried again in the middle of the night, but didn’t want to bother Y/N with his feelings any further. He removed the bandages because anything that reminded him of Dazai, he couldn’t have on his body. After Y/N found out, she apologised for her ignorance and made him the most delicious fluffy pancakes.