#Thank you for sharing so I could also share it!!!

[thatonegrimm]

Helluuu, I just read the post/req that reader called saja boys "husband" to get a creep to scram

Sooo, what about marriage proposal 😍 like, will saja boy ask the big question??? 🥰

(No need to do if ur too busy, thank you!)

Thank you for the request! This is such a sweet idea ❤️ Here you go!💌

🌙Saja Boys x Reader—marriage proposal

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🧿 Jinu

Jinu had the ring for weeks.

It lived in a tiny box tucked inside an even tinier compartment in his nightstand, where he checked on it more often than he’d admit. He practiced the words under his breath while brushing his teeth. Rehearsed with Derpy. Even tried to script the moment—quiet music, nice dinner, sunset maybe.

But none of it felt right.

Until one lazy morning, you walked into the kitchen wearing one of his hoodies, hair messy, yawning like a cat. You rubbed your eyes and said, “Hi,” like it was the best part of your day.

And something in him broke open.

"Wait," he said, heart in his throat. "Don't move."

You blinked, confused, as Jinu bolted to the bedroom. When he returned, he was breathless, ring box clutched in hand.

“I was gonna wait,” he said, “but then you walked in like that and I just—no. I wanna wake up to that face for the rest of my life. Please?”

You stared.

“Please marry me,” he added, stumbling through the words with zero coolness and full sincerity. “I’ll re-ask it better later. But for now. Say yes?”

Your mouth fell open—and then you smiled so big it made him tear up.

“Yes,” you whispered, arms around his neck. “Even if you do re-ask it later.”

He absolutely would.

But the first time was already perfect.

---------------------

💪 Abby 

It was the day after a grueling performance—everyone sore, exhausted, barely functioning. But Abby insisted you come with him to the beach, just for an hour. “Fresh air,” he said. “You’ll like it.”

You didn’t expect to find a blanket already laid out. Your favorite snacks. A thermos of cocoa. And Abby, trying not to look proud of himself as he offered you a seat.

“Okay,” you said, narrowing your eyes, “what’s all this?”

He shrugged. “Wanted to spend time with you.”

He did. But also, he was nervous as hell.

You lay side by side for a while, watching the ocean. It was quiet. Golden.

And then Abby shifted. Sat up. Fished something out of his hoodie pocket.

“I’m not great with fancy speeches,” he started, voice low and a little shaky. “But you already know that.”

You turned toward him, breath catching.

“But I’ve been thinking… if I’m gonna build something strong—like really strong—I want it to be with you. And I want to protect it for the rest of my life.”

He opened the box.

Simple. Classic. Completely him.

“So, yeah. Will you marry me?”

You didn’t even let him finish before throwing your arms around his neck.

“Abby,” you whispered, laughing against his shoulder. “You absolute idiot. Of course I will.”

He held you tight like he’d just won the whole damn world.

---------------------

📚 Mystery 

Mystery didn’t make plans like this. Not usually.

But tonight, the rooftop was clear. The moon was covered. The night sky was soft.

And you were beside him, legs tucked under a blanket, sharing the silence.

He reached into his coat and pulled out something small—a folded scrap of paper. At first, you thought it was a note. But when you unfolded it, something heavy slid into your palm.

A ring.

Plain but smooth. Black, with faint silver etching along the inside.

You looked up, heart thudding.

Mystery didn’t smile.

He looked at you. Like really looked, in that way only he could. Quiet. Intense. Real.

“I didn’t think I’d ever want to be known this much,” he murmured. “But you made it feel… right. Like the world got quieter when you said my name.”

You couldn’t breathe.

“I’m still a work in progress,” he added. “But if you want me… if you’ll have me…”

He paused.

“I want to be yours. Every strange, sharp part of me.”

You didn’t say anything for a long time. Just slid the ring onto your finger and curled your hand around his.

“Yes,” you whispered. “Always.”

Mystery didn’t smile.

But his hand trembled when he held yours.

---------------------

💋 Romance 

You thought it was just a regular performance night.

Until the lights dimmed early.

And the screen above the stage flickered to life.

Photos of you. Candid, blurry, sweet. Clips of your voice, giggling off-camera. A song you didn’t recognize but that clearly had you in the lyrics.

And then—

Romance.

Walking onto the stage in a fitted black suit, looking nervous for the first time in your life.

“This,” he said into the mic, “is the scariest and easiest thing I’ve ever done.”

You froze.

“I fall in love with you every day. In dressing rooms, in traffic jams, in grocery store lines. You’ve turned every ordinary thing into a love story.”

A hush fell over the room.

“I don’t want it to be a story that ends.”

He knelt. Right there. With a ring that sparkled under the lights and a gaze that didn’t look anywhere but at you.

“So please, my love,” he said. “Let’s make this permanent. Marry me?”

Your hands flew to your mouth.

And through a blur of happy tears, you nodded.

He was on his feet in a flash, lifting you into his arms.

The crowd exploded.

But he only looked at you.

As if none of them mattered. Only you.

---------------------

🔥 Baby 

He didn’t ask your size.

He just made the ring.

Melted scrap metal, crushed stones, laced it with fire and a whisper of demon magic. He worked on it when you weren’t looking, lips pursed, soot on his cheek, hands covered in tiny burns.

It wasn’t perfect.

But it was his.

The night he gave it to you, there were no candles. No setup.

Just Baby handing you a small black pouch in the hallway, looking like he might combust from nerves.

“…I made you something.”

You peeked inside.

Your heart skipped.

“You didn’t even ask if I’d say yes,” you said, voice catching.

Baby crossed his arms, defensive. “Yeah, because I know you’ll say yes.”

You stared at him.

He looked ready to fight you for your own hand in marriage.

You stepped forward, eyes shining.

“Of course I’ll marry you.”

“…You will?”

“Yes,” you whispered, brushing your thumb over his jaw. “You chaotic, flame-sneezing gremlin. I love you.”

He blinked.

“…Okay cool,” he said, trying and failing not to smile. “Yeah. Cool. Good. Okay.”

Then he kissed you like you’d just promised him eternity.

Because you had.

---------------------

M-List

[shiny-jr]

PROLOGUE, the beginning

– Summary: Why were you here? That was not a question you could answer, nor could you even remember the events that led you to awake in a world unlike your own. Archons of elements ruled the lands, and they will either answer your prayers to return home or become obstacles in your path.

– Warning: Yes, this is a yandere thing. Gender-neutral reader. 

– Characters: Grim. 

– Note: This is thanks for all the followers, all +8,500 of you. Yes, I consider this a milestone. Which is why I decided to share this now. Also, because I've been genuinely struggling to write this series behind the scenes, although I really do adore the AU (even if not much story has been shared yet). I think I have almost fifty pages by now, and it's still only the very very beginning. Maybe I might share the first proper chapter later just to test the waters, see how y'all like it. Maybe. For now, I hope you do enjoy this prologue for the Empyrean AU! Please, do feel free to tell me your thoughts on it.

– Pages: 9

prologue | chapter i

This was not your sky, and yet you were looking up at it. 

The sky was never so clear to the point where you could actually see them. The stars. At home, if you were lucky, maybe on the odd occasion you could spot a few blinking lights if you squinted and stared at the inky darkness for a while. Never had you actually seen them so vividly, except in pictures. Maybe that’s what made it hard to look away, when this was only the kind of sky someone would see if they were dead. Or at least, that’s how you pictured it. That, or they were far from the familiarity of civilization. 

Were you dead? Perhaps not, you thought, when you felt a cold breeze and felt a grainy substance beneath your fingertips. The scent of salt invaded your nostrils, confirming that you indeed were not dead, unless heaven or hell was a beach and you were currently lounging on it. That seemed like a rather foolish notion. If you were in hell, how far down would it be and how would you even be able to see the sky? If you were in heaven, how close would the stars be? Probably so close that it wouldn’t make for much of a view. 

Disoriented, you slowly pushed yourself up as you were met with a vast expanse of darkness. The moon cast its gentle glow on the world, reflecting upon the stretch of endless ocean that began in tides washing against the shores just feet away from your toes. 

“Where––?” 

It was night, and you found yourself on a beach with no clue as to how or why you got there. Unsurely, you scanned your surroundings as you sat up on your knees, and attempted to pat off the sand particles that stuck to your clothes. Clothes that were a clear sign that you were unprepared to be here, when all you had on was an old white t-shirt and a pair of shorts that exposed your limbs to the cold. As you continued to pat yourself down, trying to remember why you were here, your pockets felt strangely empty. Again, you pat the spot, double checking as you felt your heart drop. 

“No, no…!” 

The pockets where you usually kept your phone and wallet or any other spare change, were both devoid of its contents. Patting yourself down entirely again, led to the conclusion that you had nothing. No method of communication, no form of payment, no proof of identification. Nothing. 

Were you kidnapped? No, that didn’t make any sense. If you had been kidnapped, why were you left alone on a shoreline? Robbery was a possibility, although you began to doubt that theory when you confirmed that you still had your jewelry. So if robbery and kidnapping were checked off the list, then why were you here? 

The last thing you could recall… you couldn’t remember. What were you doing before? You knew who you were, where you were from, but you couldn’t remember what you were doing last! 

Just before the situation could fully sink in, out of the corner of your eye you noticed blue. Not of the water, no, this was a bright blue glowing like the stars. And there were two. In the distance, two small flickering fires of blue moved along the edge of the forest. The pair shifted and floated not too far off the ground, dancing within the shadows, but seeming to grow further and further away. As if wherever the source was coming from, was traversing deeper into the woods and away from the shoreline. 

Looking around once again, you saw you were alone. There was no evidence of civilization whether it be some type of building, a pathway, or a sign to conveniently point you in the right direction. All around you was the ocean, shoreline, and the forest. You could travel in one direction and hope you either happened across another person, or you could wait patiently in hopes someone would come searching for you. Of course, there was the riskier option of following the lights and pray it was a person and not something else. Currently, your options were limited. 

Not quite particular to the prospect of starving or freezing out in the open, you quickly scrambled up and chose to follow the lights. Your sneakers allowed you to run across the sand without sinking down, as you attempted to keep up with the lights. You didn’t dare speak out, because you still didn’t know what exactly the lights were! 

In any other situation, your fear would have never allowed you to just blindly follow two glowing blue lights in the middle of nowhere at night. However, this wasn’t exactly a normal situation. You’ve read stories of people foolishly pursuing strange lights which often lead them to either a wondrous new thing or a terrible fate. You could only hope that it wasn’t the latter in your case. 

By the time you had reached where the sand became grass, you were out of breath, but still forced yourself to carry on. Lingering behind the blue lights, as you kept your breathing quiet and remained cautious of any branch should you step on it and it make a noise. 

Speeding up, the ground became a bit easier to walk on when it was mainly grass and dirt. The lights kept low, visible in the tall grass that brushed against your knees as whatever it was weaved between trees at a swift and easy pace. As you got closer, you could verify that your eyes had been correct earlier. It was two blue flames. Two blue flames and a cat! 

It was the strangest cat you ever saw, with blue flames that came from within its two little ears. From behind it, all you could make out was its gray fur in desperate need of a wash and paws slightly damp with mud. The tail at the end of it was most peculiar, black and forked like a trident. Well, even if it was the strangest little kitty, it was much of a relief to see it was a creature that you could recognize. 

“Wait…! Come here, come here, it’s alright.” You gained the courage to speak, finding your voice as you attempted to catch the kitten’s attention and beckon it closer. Even if it was feral, maybe it could lead you somewhere. Feral cats had to eat, and some liked to rummage around the bins in the alleyways back home. Perhaps this one was the same. 

As you reached forward, the cat screamed in fright. It screeched, hair raising along its spine and tail standing straight in alarm. It didn’t scream like a cat, it screamed like a person with a voice, which in turn caused you to reel back and scream too. 

It did indeed have the face of a cat, but its eyes were highly unusual. Blue. Entirely blue, the same shades as the fire from its ears. The sclera of its eye was a light blue instead of white, and its pupil was like a cat’s, but the iris was an unusual shade of chathams blue. You had never seen anything with eyes like those! 

“Who are you?! What are ya doing following me?” 

It spoke. It spoke in a grating little voice that caused you to flinch. The feline looked just as tense as you were, as it stood on the tips of its claws with its back arched, staring up at you with those wide eyes. You half expected the thing to hiss at you. 

“A… A talking cat!” You exclaimed in pure shock, as you scanned your surroundings, in case someone else didn’t emerge from behind a tree and claim to be the voice you heard. But you had clearly seen the cat’s mouth moving and heard the words come from its mouth. Was this some sort of dream? It had to be. I mean, waking up alone in a foreign place, having no memory of why you were here, encountering a cat with fire ears and the ability to talk, it had to be just a dream! “Okay, I’ll play along.” Or at least, that was your current logic, as you willingly deluded yourself for your own peace of mind. 

“I’m not a cat!” The creature hissed, its back arching a little higher as if it were an attempt to intimidate you. It was difficult to be intimidated when it was very cat-like and small. “I’m Grim! Remember the name, because you’re looking at the next great archon! Now, I already asked who you were and why you were following me, are you not gonna answer that?” 

Taking a step back to not loom over him, you regarded him carefully, deciding not to press about the archon thing, whatever that was. “Oh, um… My name is (Y/n). It’s very nice to meet you, Mister Grim.” 

The-not-cat creature paused, slowly sitting as a content little grin curled below his whiskers. Grim preened, sounding much less threatening, “A human with manners and brains! Aha! Finally, someone regards me with the respect I deserve! Although I prefer Master Grim, but I’ll let Mister slide. I’ll take it easy on you. Now, stick 'em up, human!” 

Puzzled, you slowly did as he commanded, although you weren’t sure why Grim wanted your hands up. It’s not like you had to obey, but you did. 

Grim regarded your appearance and attire, scoffing as he straightened his posture to stand on his back two paws and walk like a person. “What bumbling little village are you from where you dress like that? Don’t tell me you’re so poor you can’t even afford proper clothes!” 

Furrowing your eyebrows, you continued standing with your hands up as you looked down at your own outfit. Yeah, it wasn’t anything amazing, but you wouldn’t say you looked poor. Slightly wounded, you looked down at the little feline creature. “What’s wrong with my clothes…?” 

“Everything!” The creature exclaimed as he gestured to multiple aspects of your current wear. “You’re practically begging to get all banged up and scratched with all that skin showing out here, and those pockets are too small to hold anything of value! Don’t tell me someone already got to you first and robbed you?!” 

Robbed? Yeah, that was the theory first, but it seemed like that was no longer the case. That wasn’t what happened to you. “Uhh… no? I don’t think so? Why?” 

“Because this is a robbery! I’m robbing you! Catch up!” Grim groaned in exasperation, no longer pointing a little claw at you. When his eyes went over you once again and he didn’t see anything of real value, he grumbled and averted his gaze down at the dirt. 

Peering down at the creature, you slowly lowered your arms back to your side as you tilted your head at the thing. It kicked a stray pebble before plopping down with his head hung low, only its ear twitched in response as you responded softly, “Sorry, I don’t even have anything on me.” 

“Yeah, I can already tell, duh.” Grim mumbled, not stirring even as you slowly sat across from him, just inches away from where he had flopped down. Not even raising his head, he mumbled bitterly, “What sorta stupid human are you?” 

“The lost sort.” Seeing that the small creature didn’t look about ready to sink its claws into the flesh of your leg, you took the moment while he was tame to explain your precarious situation. How you woke up here, can’t recall the events that led to your arrival, and had no idea where in the world you were. 

The entire time, his little ear occasionally twitched, but he didn’t really move. Grim sat like a person, his little paws sticking out as he kept his head down. It felt odd to be talking to a fiery feline, his blue flames flickering and illuminating the small clearing of the forest you two were sitting in. 

“So… what you’re trying to say is that you ended up here and you have no idea how?” When he lifted his head slightly, his eyes focused intensely on your hands. Despite claiming to not be a cat, Grim acted a lot like one, as he pawed at your palms. 

Tentatively, you nodded, letting the feline do as he pleased, as long as it didn’t involve his claws. You even unfurled your fingers further, just so your palms were more open. “I was wondering if you could tell me where we are…?” 

“Heartslabyul, obviously.” He answered, as if it was common sense. Well, for you, you didn’t recognize the name at all, which made you a bit nervous. It must be very very far from home, wherever you were. There was no time to even ask for clarification, because he pawed at your palm with more force. “What’s that on your hand? Is that––?” 

“My hand…?” 

Turning your hand over, your fingers trembled when you noticed a spot in the very center of your palm. At first you thought you somehow got pierced by something, but by Grim’s light, it became clear that it wasn’t some puncture wound. It was a mark on the flesh, along the creases and line of your skin, there was an oval shaped symbol. Intricate, but far too small to really make out all the details. Whatever it was, it wasn’t plain old regular ink like someone tattooed you while you were unconscious. This mark was glowing. It was very dim, but still, glowing black. 

Any fear you had been containing, escaped when your breath hitched as you turned over your other palm and saw the same thing. Inhaling sharply, your growing alarm became evident by your tone and expression as your voice raised a few decibels, as unsteady as your shaking hands. “M-My hands–– I don’t know what’s on my hands! I didn’t even know it was there! I swear, I don’t know what this is or what’s going––” It was dawning on you all at once, and you couldn’t delude yourself further that this was a dream especially when you felt a tiny prick on your flesh. Pain. You could feel the prick of pain. This wasn’t a dream.

“Why are you panicking? This is a good thing! A great thing! Count yourself blessed, mortal!” Grim cut off your panic, using one of his little pointed claws to trace the oval-marking without drawing blood. Any semblance of disappointment was dashed, and his grin returned as he explained, “This is a symbol from the gods! They’re very rare, not many of the archons use emblems anymore.” There was that word again: archon. “Wayyyy long ago, they used to be mainly used when an archon picked a mortal to use as a vessel and took over their body. Then the body would get a mark sorta like this one! That, or it was used as a branding kinda deal if a mortal owed something to an archon. Weird, I don’t even recognize that emblem. It’s not from me, I mean, I can’t do this yet, but one day I will! So, which archon do you belong to?” 

“I’m gonna get possessed?!” 

The feline scoffed, pouting as you quickly withdrew your hands that were shaking so terribly. “You don’t know why you even have that?” 

You wanted to cry. “I don’t know! I already told you…!” What kind of existence was this, where you lived your mundane life, ended up here lost and afraid, only to get told that you may be possessed by an archon? “I don’t even know what you mean by archon––” 

“WHAT?!” Yowling, he immediately jumped up onto his two back paws as he exclaimed in utter disbelief, almost offended, “You don’t know about the archons? That wasn’t just some wacky made-up story about how you ended up in this dump?” 

When you shook your head, you sniffled, trying desperately to keep your calm, but it seemed almost impossible in this impossible predicament. 

“Okay, okay, since I feel so bad for you, I’ll tell you. Then one day, if you’re still around, you can proudly say that you met the Great Archon Grim! You can brag like, I knew him! Isn’t Grim so cool? I might even remember you and accept your prayers, you can thank me now!” 

At his smug little expression, you relented, as you weren’t exactly in the position to make demands. “Alright, alright… Thank you, Great Grim. And I’ll thank you again if you can explain maybe a little more to me? Please?” 

“Fine, fine, if you insist.” Crossing his arms, he basked in the attention, appearing quite pleased with himself as he began, “Let’s see… here, I’ll put it so simple that even a baby can understand! There are seven nations, and each one has a god. These gods are super-powerful! I’m talking crazy-strong! Like they can level mountains and raise the sea type of miracles with their crazy magic!” 

Right now, you had no idea what to do or how to get home. However, if magic existed in this realm, then surely there would be some way to get back. There had to be, for your sanity. 

“Buuuuuut, I don’t recognize the emblem on your hand at all. It could be one of them? Chances are you probably won’t get possessed, because let’s be honest, what kinda archon would want your body? But, maybe if you pray to one of the archons, you’ll get an answer. But the chances of that are pretty much zero, because only idiots rely on the gods since they almost never answer. You’d have a better chance trying to actually meet with one of them and try to talk to them in person, but good luck with that!” 

Immediately burying your face in your hands, you groaned, shaking your head in misery. This was a world of magic and archons, things that were so unfamiliar, and you were talking to a demonic little cat! A cat was telling you all this! “This can’t be happening, this can’t be real––” 

Grim listened to your murmurings, blinking as he watched your mind unraveling. His little blue eyes glowed in the darkness along with the flickering light of his ears like dim candlelight. Sitting across from you in the middle of the field, his tail slid an inch to the side before tilting his head. Fireflies emerging from the underbrush floated gently, dancing in the breeze around them. Comically, one of the flying critters in particular levitated above his head, lighting up like a light bulb as an idea came to mind. 

“You know, we’re actually not too far from the capital of Heartslabyul.” A toothy grin took root on his short snout. “It’s this hugeee city where the god of pyro lives in this giant palace! One day, I’m gonna live in a palace ten times bigger than that one! My worshippers will build it for me, brick by brick, a towering temple that reaches the very heavens! It’ll make that palace look puny in comparison, but I’m getting ahead of myself.” Temporarily distracted by the fireflies, he didn’t even notice when you slowly lifted your head to look at him. He was far too entranced, pawing and trying to catch the light in his paws. 

“A city…?” A city was a good thing, wasn’t it? When you thought of a city, you thought of towering buildings and bright lights, but it’s entirely possible that cities weren’t the same here. Whenever here truly was. Either way, cities had a lot of people. People could help. “How far is it?” 

Swinging his paw through the air, he managed to hit a firefly that burst into a tiny flame. That was not a normal bug. It was an actual fire-fly. “I dunno, like… a few hours? The point is, I’m willing to offer you, pathetic lost sad human, the offer of a lifetime!” Hopping up onto his back paws, he waltzed right up to you and stood proudly with his little arms crossed in front of the white puff of fur at his chest. “I tried staking my claim there in their main city, but I was kicked out! Can you believe it? Me! They threw me out as if I was nothing! But they can’t keep me out forever! Here’s my amazing offer: if you help me sneak back in, I’ll help you… ah… what were you looking for again? I already forgot.” 

Furrowing your eyebrows in disbelief, you replied in quiet distress, “Uh… a way home…?” 

“Oh! Right! That.” Clearing his throat, he resumed, “Swear to help me sneak back in, and I’ll lead you straight to their capital where you can look for the Pyro Archon to ask about a way home! I even know a shortcut so you don’t have to walk all the way. Now, say thank you.” 

Grimacing, but with little choice as it was either follow the eccentric talking cat or remain lost and possibly rot in the wilderness of a foreign world, you replied unsteadily, “Thank you…?” 

Little white fangs poked out as he grinned, and darted into the tall grass. “Good enough for me! Come on, human, if we want to catch that short cut, we gotta do it before the sun comes up!” 

There was hardly any time to register what was going on or how quickly this was all going by. Right away you had to jump to your feet, stumbling after the feline. You could make out his path by the glow of his ears and the shifting of the grass as he occasionally jumped in the air to smack at the fire-flies. “H-Hold on, where are we even going?!” 

Grim smacked at another fire-fly as you were careful to avoid even touching them. He chased away the glowing embers, creating a path for you to follow in his trail. “The nearby port! Where else? We got a one-way ticket to the capital and that’s on the King’s ship!” 

Jogging to keep up with his quick pace leading to dense forest between the shores and woods, you did your utmost best to remain in his sight. It would be terrifying to be lost here at night alone. “I thought you said you were thrown out of the city! Why would their royalty let you on his own ship?” 

“Because he doesn’t know, obviously!” Grim paused at the edge of the meadow just before the trees to let you catch up, and he offered a confident little smirk. “We’re sneaking onto the King’s ship that’ll take us straight to Chesswick.”

[abbotjack]

Ok this might seem super random but I feel like jack and the reader from the life we grew would be watching love island . Like I see all these couples watching them online and I just kept imagining them doing it . Like bam as soon as baby is down it’s time for love island . 😂 and jack can’t help himself making commentary at everything they’re doing . Jk this was just super random I felt like I had to share . You’re amazing and I love your blog it’s such a welcoming space , hope you’re doing well !

This idea made my whole day, it’s so perfect?? Jack Abbot, post night shift, fake hating love island while absolutely needing to know who got dumped?? You waiting to watch it until he’s up because you’re both secretly obsessed?? It’s so them. Also, thank you for being so kind. Your message was the sweetest and genuinely means so much to me. You made this space feel exactly how I hope it feels. 🤍

₊˚⊹ ୨୧ THE LIFE WE GREW SERIES MASTERLIST

It’s 4:53 PM and the house is quiet.

Not the peaceful morning coffee kind of quiet. The other kind. The Bean is down for her nap, Duck is missing an eye again, and the twins have finally stopped treating your ribcage like a conga drum kind of quiet. The kind that only happens in a house that’s run on toddler chaos, shredded cheese, and the sacred 7PM–7AM shift rotation of Dr. Jack Abbot.

You’re on the couch, legs propped up, belly stretched tight under one of Jack’s old shirts. Your back hurts. You’re eighty five percent sure you dropped your phone somewhere between the couch cushions.

The TV’s paused on Love Island... waiting.

Jack’s finally up, the weight of another brutal night shift still clinging to him. This morning, he barely managed to kiss you, kiss Bean, and do his usual fridge check before crashing into bed like someone hit his off switch. You never wake him, unless the house is on fire. And even then, you’d probably just close the door and handle it yourself.

When he wakes on days like this, it’s always slow. Hair rumpled, eyes half lidded, moving like gravity’s still a little too heavy. Hungry in that very specific, I worked a trauma bay last night and now I’m eating shredded cheese straight from the bag kind of way.

Which is exactly what he’s doing now.

You hear the fridge open. Then the unmistakable rustle of the cheddar bag. A beat of silence. Then a tiny voice from the hallway.

“Dada… can I have some feelings cheese too?”

You smile.

Bean appears, Duck in hand. Jack comes closer to her, already holding out a fresh pinch of shredded cheddar like a holy offering.

“You promised Duck could have two pieces today,” Bean says solemnly.

“I did,” Jack nods. “And you held me accountable. That’s integrity, Bean.”

You watch them from the couch, heart already melting. This is how it started, the cheese thing. Not from you. You keep snacks in matching containers and label leftovers with the date. You were a federal compliance accountant, for God’s sake. Precision is your love language. But then Bean caught Jack one morning... half dead from back to back shifts, crouched in front of the fridge in his scrubs, eating shredded cheese straight from the bag. He didn’t even pretend to hide it. He just looked her in the eye and said: It’s feelings cheese. Helps with brain. She nodded like he’d told her a sacred truth.

And now here you are, living in a house where cheese is currency, comfort, and spiritual practice.

Jack finally plops down beside you on the couch, balancing the bag between you like it belongs there. “Tell me you didn’t watch it without me,” he says.

“I didn’t.”

He exhales. “Good. Because that would be emotional cheating.”

You grin. “You literally pretend to hate this show.”

He grabs the remote, unpauses it. “I do hate it. I also need to know if that one girl cried in the Beach Hut or just dramatically stared into the ocean again.”

You glance at him. “You know their names.”

He doesn’t look away from the screen. “I remember who’s dangerous.”

You laugh so hard your stomach aches. Onscreen, two new contestants make their entrance: one in overly crisp linen, the other introduced as a “crypto investor,” like that’s supposed to be reassuring. Jack squints. Then his voice softens. Still teasing. But quieter. More personal.

“I wonder what you were like then.”

You glance over.

“When?”

He nods toward the TV. “When you were that age. Twenty one. Just starting out. Probably had three highlighters in your bag and a five year plan on your desktop. Corrected people’s grammar in group projects. Said things like, ‘I just function better with a routine.’”

“I was insufferable.”

“You were dazzling and beautiful.”

You pause.

He looks at you, eyes gentle but tired. Like he’s still halfway in that night shift fog but would still find you in a crowd. “I think about it sometimes,” he continues. “What it would’ve been like. You back then. Me, too messed up to stay still. I wouldn’t have known how to love you yet. But I would’ve tried.”

You lean into his shoulder. “I think I would’ve scared you.”

“Oh, no doubt. You would've ruined me with your beautiful brain.”

You laugh into his clothes.

“But I would’ve shown up,” he says. “Even back then. Even if I didn’t know what to say. I think I would’ve made a mess of it. But I would’ve meant it.”

You curl your hand around his. His calluses. His pulse. The way he still smells like the hospital and somehow like home. “I would’ve followed you,” he adds, “even if I didn’t know why yet.”

You don’t say anything. You just rest your hand on your belly, and he places his over yours. There’s a kick. A shift. The twins are listening. On screen, someone shouts, I just want to be loved for me! and Jack doesn’t even look.

“She’s absolutely texted ‘lol okay’ as a breakup.”

You giggle. “You’re so mean.”

“I’m literally exhausted and emotionally available. That’s what women say they want.”

You kiss the corner of his mouth. Bean appears again, “Can Duck have one more sprinkle?”

Jack tosses her a pinch of cheese. “Only if Duck agrees to take responsibility for their actions in the villa.”

Bean nods. Confused, but serious. A deal’s a deal.

The living room smells faintly of baby shampoo and cheddar. A terrible dating show hums in the background. You’re very pregnant, sore in places you didn’t even know existed during your last pregnancy, and completely undone by this man who treats shredded cheese like currency and still looks at you like you’re the only thing in the room worth noticing.

And honestly?

You wouldn’t change a thing.

[vxnillabxn]

May I request hcs of all five LIs with a partner who is very into fiber arts(like sewing/crochet/knitting etc.) and occasionaly makes them little things or even clothing? (๑>◡<๑)

𐙚˙⋆.˚ mainfive! x gn!reader ꒰੭

𐙚˙⋆.˚ fluffy as a cloud! ꒰੭

𐙚˙⋆.˚ sfw! ꒰੭

𐙚˙⋆.˚ do not translate/copy/repost! ꒰੭

﹙♡﹚omg, this was such a sweet request! 𐔌՞꜆.  ̫.꜀՞𐦯 i hope you like it, and thanks so much for requesting! ♡

𐙚˙⋆.˚ caleb! ꒰੭

oh boy. 

he wears the things you make for him even to sleep.

you once made him an apple amigurumi with a pilot hat.

he loves it. he uses it as a keychain.

you also made him the cutest ugly sweater for christmas, and when he found out you made a matching one for yourself, he was ecstatic.

it could quite literally be the hottest day out there, and he'd still be inside, wearing said sweater, and pleading for you to wear yours.

he proudly displays everything you make, too.

from gorgeous masterpieces to your very first attempts.

not only back at your shared place.

no.

his private aircraft is filled with handmade pillowcases, some blankets, embroidered cushions for his pilot seat, cute little coasters…

everything screams “you.”

he loves it.

he'll shamelessly ask you to craft different things for him, too.

summer is coming? come on, pips. make him a cute hat!

what about fall? maybe you could make a cozy scarf for your boyfriend, hm?

is winter around the corner? hehe, some snug mittens sound so good right now.

and for spring… perhaps a knitted basket so he can collect flowers for you?

yeah, you better get to work, pipsqueak!

he won't rush you, though.

but he'll stare lovingly as you work on his requests!

and he'll also make sure you're moving your hands with love and care for him —he'll kiss them after. endlessly.

he gets excited with every single project you finish, no matter how small.

and he absolutely adores it when you proudly show him the final piece —as long as it's to sell, for you, or for him.

if it's a gift for someone else…?

that won't do.

he'll also jokingly ask if you could replace his fleet uniform with a homemade one for when it gets too windy and chilly.

it is a bit ambitious.

but he's already savoring the “ah, this? yeah. my sweet baby made it for me,” that would escape his lips whenever someone asked.

and no one would ever get to have something similar, not even if you sold your work and someone asked for it.

and you had to pinky promise you would keep some things under the “caleb's-specials” category!

or he'll simply take all of your things away and lock them up until you seriously, seriously promise to only craft with either him or you in mind.

…or well, until you kiss him.

𐙚˙⋆.˚ rafayel! ꒰੭

he's obsessed with your work.

he could stare at you for hours as you move your hands so effortlessly, staying so focused while doing something else at the same time, such as listening to music or watching a video.

the day you asked if he wanted you to craft him something…

his heart began thumping in his chest.

he literally sketched tons of designs —in less than an hour— for you to choose and recreate.

he wears your creations proudly, especially when he gives interviews or goes to exclusive galas.

“oh! who's my designer? my precious pearl, obviously!”

—nobody asked him, though. he just needed to say it.—

he is absolutely delighted when you create things from scraps, and if you let him use them in his paintings for texture purposes.

he also loves buying things for you whenever he goes shopping for supplies.

what was that thing you used? yarn? thread? ah, who knows! he'll just buy tons of different things as long as he sees pretty colors and good quality.

your shared house is quite a mess and it looks like an arts and crafts store because of all the things he brings… but that is what art is all about.

he truly enjoys those quiet days where you two are apart, yet together. he would be painting, you would be working on the sofa… it would be silent, but you two were still close to each other, and that was all that mattered.

he is also very supportive!

he posts everything you do. from small, first-attempt projects to the things you take days, weeks, even months to finish.

and the fact that your longest project ever was a hammock for both of you to lie down together by the sea…

fills him with so much joy —cockiness— and love.

if you ask him to, he'll add your pieces to his art collection, too.

hell, he would name the whole art collection after you, and make sure you're the main focus.

even if you only craft cutesy things, clothes, or practical and useful items, he'll share your art with the whole world.

or, better yet, he'll work alongside you, taking inspiration from the things you craft to create masterpieces himself.

you're his biggest source of inspiration, and he considers your art just as breathtaking and meaningful as his.

if not more.

𐙚˙⋆.˚ sylus! ꒰੭

his base never looked better.

the twins wear the coziest matching, handcrafted clothes, and even crocheted flowers attached to the horns on their hoods.

mephisto has the cutest little hats and proudly shows them off, too.

the gorgeous dining table has the prettiest coasters, and… truly, every room has your essence, for that matter.

soon enough, the base not only looks pretty, but it becomes a workshop if you decide to teach luke and kieran how to craft, too.

sylus loves it.

in fact, he encourages it.

he'll praise you. he'll even watch attentively as you work, before bringing your hands to his lips —always reverently.

those hands of yours work wonders, and he's mesmerized even by the simplest of projects.

of course, he loves it when you craft things for him…

and when you make things for yourself, especially if it's something only for his eyes to see.

he'll get you the best quality materials and tools.

truly, just say the word, and you'll have everything you wish for.

he also loves it when you quietly work on one of your projects during a social event.

moving your hands so quickly, creating gorgeous things without even trying, hidding from the rest of people.

skilled as a spider, playing with yarn like a mischievous cat.

you're like his little sneaky spider-kitten.

or kitten-spider.

also, he found out you made a cover for his motorbike helmet.

he doesn't really use his helmet; he's quite literally unharmable.

…but when he saw you putting the cover over the helmet, then handing it to him with a huge smile, he suddenly cared about his safety.

he wears it now, every single time he rides.

obviously, no one dares say a word about it, —nor does he care if they do— but seeing the leader of onychinus himself wearing a crocheted helmet cover with horns is… quite the sight.

on that note, he'll definitely ask you to make him fingerless gloves.

and if you're skilled at making clothes, he'll ask you to be his personal designer (he'll always ask months in advance, don't worry!)

he'd definitely want the two of you to match… but since he knows how long it takes to handcraft something —especially clothes for this huge man— he'll probably try to help you out.

spoiler alert: it doesn't work out.

𐙚˙⋆.˚ xavier! ꒰੭

he makes you sit between his legs when you work.

he holds whatever you ask him to, and quietly untangles the yarn, too.

you don't even need to ask; he's already doing it so you don't have to stop mid-work.

it keeps him busy, and he loves feeling useful.

he also finds it incredibly relaxing to watch your hands move so effortlessly.

he gets those asmr-like tingles in his sleepy head, and the best part?

he gets the full experience.

your scent, the soft sound of the hooks clicking against each other, your peaceful breathing…

oh! he's dozing off again.

he absolutely loses his mind when you start making cute things for him to wear.

a bunny hat? comfy sweaters?

a quilt!

a big, cozy quilt, followed by so many blankets for his naps!

he'll wear them all…

at once.

he doesn't care if he starts sweating or nearly suffocates under the warm cocoon he wrapped himself in.

he'll leave this world in peace, surrounded in your awesome work.

he waits for winter to come; both because it means “cuddle time,” and because it means you'll stay in, working on new projects.

which probably means you'll craft things for him, hehe.

also, if you ever need a life-sized mannequin for anything, he'll stand still just for you.

need to take pictures of your crafts?

he'll stay still, let you dress him up, or put things on his hands for him to hold for you.

he will definitely get jealous if you start crafting for the tiny animals that wander onto the balcony.

yeah, he's basically a princess and animals gather around him —but can't they find their own crafty human?

geez, greedy little things.

and don't you dare make something by hand for anyone else!

he'll give you money to buy a gift if it's for a friend's birthday, he doesn't want you gifting something as special as a craft of yours.

but if you ever do... if you ever gift your works of art to someone who isn't him…

he'll sulk and disappear —or rather, he'll hide under the covers until you come find him.

can't you see how much he loves your work?

he'll make more space for your gifts, he promises!

he'll even wear everything you've made in one outfit, pretty please —just craft for him!

because he knows how much love and effort you pour into everything you do.

and he wants to keep all of that to himself.

𐙚˙⋆.˚ zayne! ꒰੭

he is a quiet supporter.

both of you work silently together. he loves it when you come to his office and quietly craft.

he also loves when you sit next to him —or plop yourself right on his lap.

it feels like having a little hardworking birdie choosing to build a nest on him, and he loves thinking of you that way.

he especially loves when you craft things with his style in mind.

sure, if you make something colorful and fun, he'll wear it proudly or carry it around.

but when you make cool-toned or neutral-colored scarves, gloves, or even embroidered sweaters…

those, he always wears.

on your dates, at the hospital, when he has to travel.

everywhere.

he even sprays them with your perfume, so he can feel the lingering tenderness of your hands when crafting on the pieces —and your familiar scent.

he takes such careful care of everything you make for him.

by now, he's gotten used to waiting for you to rush in and throw your finished crafts onto his lap.

you see a cool idea online? you rush to tell him.

you come up with your own pattern? you rush to show him.

and he loves seeing you that excited.

if you try to get him into crafting, he'll indulge you —especially with embroidery.

he's got expertise with needles, after all.

it might be a bit tricky at first, but he'll absolutely get the hang of it, especially when it means spending quiet days by your side.

the two of you curled up like two gentle grandpas, crafting together…

he can already see that future. and it's bright.

if you embroider tiny snowflakes on his clothes, he'll embroider little jasmines on yours.

he'd even stitch a hidden “i love you” inside your sleeve, so you can trace it with your fingers whenever you miss him.

and if he messes up a project, he'll either quietly throw it away… or wait for you to notice and gently help.

he also worries about your hands.

he'll massage your fingers, your palms, your joints, making sure they're not too sore.

and he'll always check that your hooks and needles are ergonomic, so they don't hurt you.

he doesn't want his favorite thing to hold in the entire universe to feel discomfort in any way.

[jeonscatalyst]

“Jungkook didn’t like Jimin when they were younger.”

Let’s consider the facts:

1: Jungkook, after knowing Jimin for only about two months,despite having known every other member for atleast six months to a year prior, chose to confide in him when he was uncertain about his career path. There were 5 other people he had known longer whom he could have spoken to but he chose to go to the one he had known for the least amount of time.

2: He consistently turned to Jimin for comfort. Jungkook himself said that, out of all the members, Jimin gave him the most comfort and the most attention.

3: He repeatedly chose to sleep outside the members’ shared room with Jimin, laying blankets on the floor so they could sleep beside each other every night. I don’t know about some of you but I would not be choosing to sleep separately from the people I am most comfortable with, with someone I don’t like.

4: According to Namjoon, Jungkook even packed his clothes onto his bed and went to sleep in Jimin’s bed instead.

5: He was often seen hovering around Jimin, clearly seeking his attention whenever it was elsewhere.

6: Jungkook has stated that he was able to endure the hardships of trainee life thanks to Jimin who always listened to him and comforted him whenever he was struggling.

7: Jimin was also the first member Jungkook ever gave a birthday gift to. The other members even pointed out that he didn’t give anyone else a present for sometime until he was teased about it.

And that’s not even touching on the rainy day story… a moment that speaks volumes about how deeply Jungkook feels about Jimin and how significant Jimin has always been to him.

It’s honestly baffling that this is still up for debate in 2025. The evidence is overwhelming: Jungkook didn’t just like Jimin… he loved him, cherished him, and always saw him as one of the most important people in his life.

From the earliest days, everything we’ve seen through years of content points to a bond between them that was built on one of the strongest emotional foundations within the group. The kind of bond where you feel safe enough to be your full self. The kind of connection that allows someone (Jungkook), someone one who wasn’t always good at processing or expressing his emotions to be completely vulnerable with another person because that person felt like home… and that person is Jimin. Doesn’t matter if you want to invalidate these very significant moments and call them “moments from the stone ages”. The fact remains that they happened and they play a very huge role in our general understanding of the members and their different dynamics.

[maxinehufflepuffprincess]

Operation: Free MamaBear

BangChan x fem! reader. 9th member.

(This was requested, so I'm hoping this lives up to expectations and that I did this justice. I enjoyed writing this one a lot.)

Taglist. Masterlist. Progress Update. MamaBear Collection.

Summary: You're sick, and the boys just want you to get better.

You were miserable. You were sick and it wasn’t good. The nine of you had a huge performance coming up for an award show soon, so you were hoping to get better sooner rather than later. You didn’t want to miss the performance. However, the worst part of all this was that you had been forced to quarantine away from the boys. Now, a part of you understood. You didn’t want to risk them getting sick. However, at the same time, all you wanted was to be snuggled up in Chris’ arms.

You had been given two options. Either you can lock yourself in the spare room in your dorm. The room that you had. It was another bedroom that you were supposed to use anyway, but since you and Chris share a room, this one was left free. Or you could go to a spare dorm to ride out your sickness. You hated that idea. At least locking yourself in a room meant you could still speak to your boys. But the threat of being moved to a free dorm was still there. If even one of the boys gets sick, you would be moved until you were better.

—----------

Chris stepped out of his and your shared room. He hated this. He should be holding you close at night, worrying. He should be allowed to be there. Holding your hair and rubbing your back when you're sick. Holding you close when you sleep, making sure you eat and drink. The bed felt colder, and knowing you were so close yet still out of reach hurt his heart. Having to hear you cry at night because you’ve thrown up or you feel horrible made his heart hurt. He hated that I.N. had to hear it all as well. It made Chris feel useless. 

Thankfully, they all had the day off today. So when he left his room, only to see the rest of the guys there, he wasn’t surprised. Hyunjin and Han were sitting together on the couch. Han was writing something down, another song for you, as Hyunjin drew. He could see the two youngest members sitting outside your door. Seungmin and Jeongin were whispering to each other and writing something down. Changbin was sitting near Jisung and Hyunjin. He was on his phone, but he was clearly sulking. 

Chan walked into the kitchen to see Minho cooking breakfast. Felix was baking some sweet treats. He was also making a fruit bowl with all your favourites in it. He couldn’t help but smile. All the boys were doing what they could to make you feel better.

Minho was cooking something light, so it wouldn’t be too heavy on your stomach. He also had some camomile tea with honey in it, ready to be taken to you. It was in your Winnie the Pooh honey pot mug. He came to stand beside Minho. 

“You can take her tea. Let her know the food will be a little longer.” Minho told him as he turned to look at Chan. He placed a hand on his shoulder and squeezed. “She’ll get better soon.”

Chan nodded in agreement. He was trying to keep everyone’s spirits up, but sometimes it was hard. You were miserable, and he couldn't even hold you and comfort you. He had tried his best to keep it together for the guys. But both Minho and Changbin were seeing through the cracks. 

Chan nodded his head and picked up the mug. “Thank you, Min.” He quickly looked over at Felix, who was using your shape cutters to cut the fruits into cute flowers and hearts. He then left the kitchen and made his way over to your door. 

“What if we just pack some stuff and leave? They can’t say anything if we take her away.” He heard Jeongin say to Seungmin, who nodded. 

“We’d have to get into the room first. We could take the door off the hinges?” Seungmin quickly wrote something down in his notebook. 

“How do we do that?” I.N. asked him. Before Seungmin could answer, they spotted Chan walking towards them. 

I.N.’s eyes went wide. “Act natural.” He muttered.

Seungmin leant against the door and let out a sigh. “Hyunjin is a pabo!” He said loudly, causing Jeongin to face palm. 

Hyunjin looked up from his drawing and gasped. The male frowned. “Hey! Leave me alone. I’m emotionally vulnerable right now!” Hyunjin pouted before going back to his drawing, and Han, beside him, was trying so hard not to laugh.

Chan looked between the two youngest members. “What are you two plotting?” He asked them as he raised a hand and knocked on the door. 

The two looked at each other and then at their leader. “Nothing!” They both said.

Chan raised an eyebrow at the two. However, the sound of the door slowly opening brought their attention to you. All the boys immediately looked up. 

Hyunjin paused mid-stretch. Changbin’s eyes immediately left his phone. Minho and Felix looked out from where they stood in the kitchen. Han slowly stood up, his new song long forgotten now. Seungmin and I.N. turned on the floor, so they were looking up at you. 

You opened the door carefully and peeked your head out. You smiled up at Chan. “Hi.” You covered your mouth, letting out a cough. You had on one of Chan’s hoodies. 

“Oh, sweetheart.” Chris spoke. You looked tired and so sad. “Minho made you some tea. He and Lix are sorting you some breakfast out.” He gently passed you the tea.

You took it gratefully. “Thank you.” You took a sip before setting the mug on the desk, which was right near the door. 

“How are you feeling?” Chan asked you curiously as Felix slowly exited the kitchen. Fruit bowl in hand.

“Horrible but better than yesterday. Hearing you guys makes it better.” You explained to him, wrapping your arms around your body. 

It when then that they moved. Your four youngest boys moved at the same time. Jeongin and Seungmin jumped up from the ground. Felix ran over from the kitchen, and Han practically flew off the couch. 

Han bumped into Chan, who steadied him. “We want to see our mother.” He whined out.

Felix held out the fruit bowl to you, his body squeezed in between Minnie and Innie’s bodies. “We could come and give you cuddles if you want.”

Seungmin nodded in agreement. “I can read to you. I’ve been enjoying the book you recommended to me.”

Jeongin looked at you with his big eyes. “We could binge-watch shows with you. Weak Hero, Teen Wolf. Alice in Borderland? Real Housewives? Supernatural? Strong Girl Bong-soon? We can watch Scooby-doo and Alice in Wonderland. I’ll even simp over Si-eun with you. Or we could watch YouTube. Like Neigel Baker or Ben Kimor Roscoe or Jordan Orme or umm, Trolltek.” He offered. Listing off the first things that came to his mind.

Han came to his side and nudged him lightly. “Yah, stop listing off YouTubers.” He told him with a shake of his head. “We could sing for you. I know you like it when we sing. I’m writing a new song for you. Pick a song and four of us will sing it.” Han rambled out. 

Felix shook his head. “We can bring you more food? Did you want any other drinks? Are you cold? We can get more blankets. I can give you a message?” He suggested, hoping and wanting to help.

Seungmin clicked his fingers. “I could run you a bath. Extra bubbles. You can soak and relax.”

I.N. quickly nodded his head. “Yes, and we can put your pyjamas in the dryer so they’ll be warm for when you get out.”

“I can get you more tissues and medicine if you need them?” Han was ready to run to grab whatever you wanted.

The four Maknaes were all squashed together in front of your door. All wanted to see you, all wanted to help you in any way they possibly could. 

The four Hyungs watched their four youngest members. Their hearts hurt for them. They looked and sounded as desperate as they felt. They all wanted to help you, to make sure you were okay. But they knew the rules. They didn’t want to risk you being in a dorm all alone. At least this way, they could help you. They could hear if you needed or wanted anything. They could text you and talk to you through the door. 

The four had done their best to keep themselves together for the four younger members. Minho always let Felix help him with making your food, because it made Felix feel useful. But Minho was always the one to bring you the food. He hated that he couldn’t enter the room, but he knew Felix would go in if he allowed him to take you the food. Changbin was always bringing you protein bars, always in your favourite flavours. He knows you're having trouble eating, so he leaves you little snacks just in case. Hyunjin would draw for you. Sometimes it would be pictures of the other boys, himself or you. Sometimes it would be flowers or things that reminded him of you. He painted a picture of their Skzoos. All snuggled up together, sleeping, but they were drawn like actual animals. He and Chan had put the painting in your room after he had shown it to you. 

And Chan, God. He was always there with your medicine and painkillers. He was there with cold clothes and ice packs, and hot water bottles. He’d given you your big Wolf Chan plush to cuddle with, since you couldn’t cuddle him right now. Hell, he had been sleeping with your big Mama Bear plush. He was there with jumpers and hoodies. He and Minho came in to help clean up whenever you were sick and didn’t make it to the bin or bathroom in time. But it hurt. You were miserable, and he couldn’t take that away from you.

Chris looked up as soon as he heard a sob leave your lips. The four youngest boys all looked panicked. They didn’t mean to make you cry; they just wanted to help. They just wanted to see you. Chan gently pulled the four out of the way. 

“Honey.” He said as he opened the door to get to you. He scooped you up in his arms and led you over to the bed. He sat you down and wiped your tears away. 

“I hate this. I hate that I’m sick. I hate that I can’t snuggle with you at night. I hate that I can’t give our boys hugs. I hate hearing them get upset because they can’t even come into the room.” You sobbed out, your bottom lip trembled as you cried into your boyfriend’s chest. “I heard Innie crying last night. I heard that Binnie had to pull Lixie and Minnie away from the door so they would go and get some sleep. I hate being separated from you all.”

Chan shook his head. “It’s okay. You’ll get better soon. Don’t be so hard on yourself. The boys will understand. They will cope. It just means that once you're better, we can give you all the hugs you deserve.” He stroked your hair lightly as he held you close to his body. 

You both stayed there for a while. Minho came by with the food, letting Chan come and take it from him. Chan stayed with you for the first time since you got sick. Making sure you ate, making sure you drank your tea, making sure you had your medicine and ate the fruit Felix made. Then, he tucked you into bed and watched you sleep as you snuggled with Wolf Chan. Then, he left the room.

—-------

By the time Chan left the room, the boys had left the door. Minho had finished cleaning up in the kitchen. Chan looked at the others, noticing the youngest two weren’t in the room anymore. 

“Where’s Innie and Seungmin?” He asked the group.

Hyunjin looked up from his drawing. “They’re in Ayen’s room. Sulking.” He explained.

Chan contemplated going to talk to the boys, but he decided to just give them some space for now. 

“How is she?” Changbin asked Chan curiously, but with a full sense of worry. 

Chan shook his head. “Not good. She looks better than yesterday, but..she’s tired. She wants to be around us, but she’s scared of getting us sick.” He ran his hands over his face, and tears threatened to spill.

Felix looked up from where he and Han were sitting together. “Did we make her upset? We didn’t mean to. We just wanted to see her.” His voice was quiet, full of guilt. He was starting to tear up. “It’s not fair. Whenever we’re sick, she’s the first to act. She comforts us, she brings us food, she cuddles us, she puts on our favourite movies, she makes us ice cream, she sings to us. She read to Seungmin. She sends Minho-hyung cat pictures. She always brings me her fluffiest blanket, and she lets Ayen cuddle with whichever of her Mama Bear plushies that he wants. It’s not fair that we can’t do it for her.” His voice cracked as tears began to run down his face. 

Chan knelt in front of Felix as Han squeezed his shoulder. “I know it’s not fair. Right now, there is nothing we can do about it. Keep texting her. Keep sitting in front of her door. Talk to her through the door. That is what is helping her right now. As long as we make sure she’s eating and drinking and taking her medicine, she’ll be fine. She’ll be back to being Mama Bear again, and we’ll all get our time with her.” He wiped Felix’s tears away and patted his knee. 

“Besides, once she’s looking, feeling and sounding better, I’ll talk to management. We just have to grit our teeth and ride out the worst of it. Then, hopefully, we can be there for when she’s getting better.” Chan stood up as Minho entered the room. 

“I can be there if you need me to be.” Minho stated, his arms crossed over his chest. 

“We both can.” Changbin agreed as he stood up.

Minho and Changbin were the left and right arms for Chan. They were always ready to go to war for and with him. The three of them and you were a strong unit of leaders. Each one was always ready to do what it takes to take care of the rest of the members. Chan could trust Minho and Changbin to do what he needed them to do. It was at times like this that he was so grateful for them both. Minho had taken it upon himself to cook all your meals. Changbin had been doing his best to keep the other occupied. It gave Chan a moment to breathe. And now, here they were ready to go to management with him and demand that they be allowed around you again.

They didn’t care about the award show, not while one of their own was throwing up and burning a fever. All eight men would go to the end of the earth for you. They would fight every version of themselves in every universe if it meant seeing you smile again. Because you were incredibly important to them.

You were the light for Chan. The two of you had been trainees for so long together. Spending late nights in the dance studio. When he was making music for the group, you stayed up with him all night. Helping him or going over the choreo whilst he worked. You helped him keep going. You managed to get him into a good sleep routine after years of trying. You are his past, his present and his future. 

Minho and Changbin both saw you as a sister figure. Minho was your best friend. You trusted the two immensely. That wasn’t to say you didn’t trust the others. However, there were times when the two needed to step up, and they did it flawlessly every single time. 

You and Hyunjin connected easily. He appreciated that you saw him for more than just his looks. You spoiled him and never expected a thank you. But he always said it. His drawings and paintings that he made for you always had meaning to them. They made him think of you and how much he adores you. 

Your four younger boys always seemed to look at you like you personally created the sun, the moon and the stars for them. You had taken each of them under your wing. They were the ones you babied the most. You were always there when they needed a hug. You were there to listen to their problems or help them with whatever they needed. You spoiled them just as much as you spoiled the other boys. The four had seen you fight for them. They had seen you fight for their Hyungs. 

You were always there when the boys were sick. You were there with their favourite meal when they were having a bad day. You had encouraged them. You had dried their tears. You knew them like the back of your hand. 

So, of course, they all wanted to be there for you when you were sick. But annoyingly, they couldn’t be in the room with you. So, hearing that Chan wanted to change that, well, they were all on board with that idea. 

Chan nodded his head at Minho and Changbin. “I’d appreciate that. Thank you.” 

And so the boys continued their day. Minho made you food when it was time. Changbin and Felix brought you snacks when they could. Hyunjin continued to draw for you. Han was almost done writing his fourth song for you. Chan sat outside the door, talking to you once you had woken up.

—------------

However, inside Jeongin’s room, he and Seungmin were sitting on his bed. The two were plotting. They had a whiteboard on the wall. In big letters at the top was written 'Operation: Free MamaBear.' They looked through all their ideas. There were a lot of things written on the board. 

‘Sneak in whilst everyone is asleep.’

‘Break the lock of the door.’

'Just walk in and pretend everything is okay.'

‘Take the door off its hinges.’

‘Pack our bags and kidnap her.’ (Go somewhere nice.)

These were just some of the ideas they had come up with. The two hated not being able to be around you. They hated that they couldn’t go out with you for dinner, or help you bake, or that they couldn’t hug you. Whilst neither were big on skinship, it came easily when it was you. 

Seungmin thought for a moment. “We can't kidnap her.” He said with a small pout.

I.N. let out a groan. “Why not? We could go somewhere nice. Jeju Island. Or we can go to that place by that lake that she took us to last year?” He flopped backwards on his bed. 

Seungmin sighed. “Because Chan would kill us if we took her away and didn't tell him. He'd hunt us down. Minho would help him. Plus Felix would cry.” He threw his pen in the air and caught it.

I.N. sat up and grabbed his Mama Bear plush. “Okay. We could just bring Felix with us."

Seungmin thought for a moment. "We can make it a backup plan. For now, though, no kidnapping."

Jeongin let out a huff. "Fine. Good point. I don't feel like dying yet. I'm still packing just in case, though.”

Seungmin stood up and walked to the board. “Hmm, we need more ideas.”

And the two began to brainstorm again. 

—-------

They had done it. It was almost a week later, but Chan, Minho and Changbin had gone in for a meeting. Leaving Hyunjin in charge. Thankfully, they had gotten what they wanted. To be able to have you in the same room as them. You were looking better. Sure, you were still sick, but it wasn't as terrible now. The hope was that you would be better in time for the award show.

So as soon as they got home, Chan had scooped you up and taken you to the couch, where you stayed snuggled up on his lap. Felix had your legs in his lap. He gently massaged your calf. I.N. had sat beside Chan, his head on your back. All the boys piled on and around the couch as you all decided to watch YouTube. 

Changbin went into I.N.’s room to grab a blanket that he had borrowed from your and Chan's room. 

Changbin walked over to the couch. He looked at the youngest member and passed him the blanket. 

“Hey, Innie-ah. Why is there a packed suitcase in your room?” He asked in confusion. 

Jeongin looked up at the male. “Just in case we needed to go.”

Seungmin leaned forward. “We already agreed that it was a no to that plan.” 

Jeongin shrugged. “No, we agreed it was plan B. I was being prepared in case we needed to go.”

Seungmin rolled his eyes. “I told you yesterday we can't kidnap her. It wouldn't have worked. Not until we know how to avoid Chan and Minho.”

Chan looked between the two. “Kidnap? What? Who?”

“Honey.” The two youngest said in perfect sync. 

The group looked between the two. Chan looked like he couldn't tell if they were joking or not. You just giggled. Hyunjin, Han and Felix looked at them in shock. Changbin face-palmed, and Minho just looked between the two of them. Because no way they were going to go through with it. 

“What? Seriously?” Hyunjin asked.

Seungmin nodded. “Yeah. We backed her bag as well. It's underneath her desk in her and Chan's room. We did plan to take Felix with us, too."

Felix looked up in shock. "Me?"

“When were you in our room?” Chan asked in shock and surprise. “You were planning to take my girl away?” Chan squeezed you closer to his body.

The two boys shook their heads. “No. We were planning to take our mother away and save her from loneliness.”

You couldn't help but smile. "That's actually really kind of sweet."

Felix also smiled. "They were going to take me with them." It was an honour, really. They had thought about letting him join them.

Chan just pouted and pulled you close. Your head is lying on his shoulder. "No! She's mine. You can't take her away from me. How would I cope?"

Meanwhile, Hyunjin and Han were pouting because they weren't included, while Minho and Changbin were amused. The two youngest members just looked at each other and smirked.

"Next time, we'll take her and run."

-------------

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[angelsafa]

Things I am currently manifesting!

Hello my angels!

How are you my loves? How are this gods and goddesses doing? Feeling limitless? Owning the world? As you should!!

I was thinking a lot and re-thinking my life and I decided that I want a completely brand new life. Yep. Just wanted to share here what are some things I'll be manifesting! (probably before my bday which is in a few dayss)

-Brand new parents. Yep. Mine right now aren't thaat bad but they're still strict and religious, and I am seriously reconsidering revising my whole family not being religous and even taking the hijab off (but that's a dilemma for another post!).

-A new house. Mine right now is absolutely perfect (I manifested it in the void). It's like a big af detached house in the private areas of Madrid, but I wanted this specific one which is a flat and it's in another neighbourhood. I don't know how this type of flats are said in english but in spanish they are called 'urbanizaciones' which are like these big flats which include pools, gardens, some sport fields/ grounds, and even parks for kids. I really wanted one that had a pool and a tennis field (+ more), so that's what I'm getting!

-More friends. Yeah, that's it. I want to meet more people this summer.

-My hair being the same colour as Lana's in my actual profile picture. I simply adore that hair color, so I wanted it. Also, more defined curls!

-Another Iphone 16. I love my pink one right (which I also manifested in the void) now but I wanted it in white lmao

-My dad having another successful bussiness + networking and meeting with more bussiness men. Honestly, I am doing this because I always end up being friends with my dad's bussiness partner's kids, so it benefits me too 🤭

-Having the best birthday ever. So, I was born and grew up with extremely religious and strict parents. Like really. When I got in the void, I was too excited and didn't manifest everything like too life changing except what I've said in the post (In that moment I kinda forgot about them bcs of the excitement 😭). Anyways, because of how they were, we never celebrated birthdays or did what other families do. I've always felt bad for like my little sisters and I've always wished we could be normal. Thanks to loa and non-dualism I've changed a lot of their personalities, but still, I want brand new ones, so 🤷‍♀️ So, this birthday I will spend it with my two girl bestfriends. We said that we're going to eat somewhere. I've decided that it will end up being one of our best memories, we will take lots lots of photos and have lots lots of fun. Also, i will be getting free things since we're going shopping after that, and simply reciving things because it's my birthday lol. And since I'll have brand new parents, they'll celebrate it too and gift me something or whatever (maybe even a party!).

-Going to Murcia for a couple of weeks which is a city in Spain. I've already got this one tbh. I affirmed at like the first days of july that at the end of the month I was going, and some days ago my parents said that we are going!

And well my angels, this is all for now. I'll update when I manifest everything.

Remember that you're the creators of your lives and that you can do and have anything you want.

(also whenever i get something i'll edit this with the update!)

Lots lots lots of love,

Safa

[huffledor-able541]

The fact that I can picture every single little thing is both scary and amazing. Your writing is superb!👌

Bucky and Millie are adorable, but really Bucky? 2 whole weeks without seeing her? 😭

And OMG THAT ENDING? NOW IT MEANS SOMETHING? I will say I was also a bit hurt when he said, "I guess because it's true. Sometimes." Like, my heart stopped and I was like...um, excuse you? But then when he said "A single kiss could be brushed off as nothing, but not twice," and then kissed her!? As a girlie who hasn't had her first kiss yet, I still swooned after reading that because I get it. I totally understand.😭💙

This is so cute! Awesome job and thank you for sharing your awesome writing with us.🥹🫶 Now I have to remind myself I'm actually not from the 40s😤

Starlight [3/3]

40s!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: You'd grown up chasing after your brother and his best friend. Now that they've both returned from war, it seems Bucky's the one finally chasing after you.

Warnings: Age gaps, a brief scene of drunken pushiness in relation to sex [not by or towards bucky], language. I think that’s all!

Notes: This is an older story I've never shared on tumblr. I've had to split this story into 3 parts because of tumblrs text post limits rip, but it was originally a oneshot. the reader is mixed race and only Steve's half sister she is also named. Comments and reviews are more than welcome!

Words: full story is 19k, this one is 4.4k

Masterlist || Part One || Part Two

Bucky freezes as he rounds the street corner, the one that took him off the main road and into a small side road, where the folks who lived in the apartment building above had strung up rope to hang their washing on, and where he can remember playing with Steve in a small patch of grassy dirt near where the trash cans were all lined up. It was also where the stairs that led up to your and Steve’s apartment began, and it's the sight that greets him at the bottom of those steps that make him stop dead in his tracks.

It had been almost two weeks since he’d last seen you, a mixture of newfound work at the SSR office in Manhattan and growing anxiety over what you’d say to him when he saw you next that had kept him away.

Regret boils in him now, right beside pure, unadulterated rage.

Unlike the last time he’d walked into an alley and found you with Vinnie, this time he is upset at you.

He watches in near disbelief as you speak quietly with the young man, who looked like he’d put on his Sunday best to come see you, but Bucky doesn’t move to approach you just yet. You nod your head, with a thin, smile. Vinnie nods too, and seems to take in a deep breath. And then you close the distance between the two of you and give him a tight, but brief, hug.

Bucky feels the muscles in his jaw clench as you part, and Vinnie takes a step back. He shoves his hands in his pockets as he turns, but not before raising a hand in farewell. The kid walks with his eyes down for several feet, until he passes Bucky, at which point, he seems to double take at him, before quickening his pace and disappearing.

Bucky watches him go, turns and follows him with his eyes until he’s out of sight. When he whips back around, you seem to have noticed him, and you give him a small wave, and an even smaller smile.

You don’t even look guilty!

“What the hell are you thinkin’?” The words leave his mouth faster than he can process as he storms toward you. Your posture changes immediately, defensive and indignant, though you look a little confused.

“Excuse me?!” You ask back, and Bucky gestures wildly behind him.

“That punk treats you like shit, puts his filthy mitts all over you when you’re too drunk to stand, and you just…” Bucky flounders for a moment, his mind boggled at what game you were playing, not even able to fathom it.

“You just take him right back?!” He was angry. Angry because you deserved more, angry because he had thought maybe you’d have seen that by now.

Your shoulders straighten and you lift your chin.

“I don’t think it should concern you who I see and when.” You spit back, clearly flustered, clearly on the offence.

“The hell it doesn’t!” He retorts, taking half a step closer. You don’t move back, standing your ground at the base of the stairs and he studies you, face defiant, eyes a little glassy.

“I thought—” He begins, cutting himself off and lowering his voice.

“I thought you were done with him…” His voice is no less angry, but the mood shifts, and your defensiveness turns into something else, something he can’t quite put a finger on.

Your lip wobbles, and you visibly try to fight it as you finally step away from him, scoffing.

“You care all of a sudden?!” You accuse, and this time it’s Bucky who straightens, pointing his finger at himself.

“I’ve always cared.” He bites back, incredulous at your incredulity.

“So that’s why you kissed me and then disappeared for a fortnight?!” You hiss, before seemingly giving up on the argument entirely, raising your hands and shaking your head.

“Shame on me, I guess! I should have known James Buchanan Barnes would spout off about treating you right, and then turn around and be just as bad!” You berate. Bucky feels his own defensiveness rise, his own anxiety and guilt over his feelings for you lashing out in the worst possible way.

“A kiss is nothing. It’s just a kiss!” He snaps before he can stop himself. Regret fills him immediately and your face drops. Devastation is the only word he has to describe your expression as you freeze, staring at him.

And then without another word, you turn, the tears already spilling down your cheeks as you quickly race up the first few steps to your apartment.

Bucky tries to call out, follow you, but before he can, your leg seems to buckle under you, your ankle twisting at an awkward angle as you slightly lose your footing, grasping out in panic for the rusty old handrail. You cry out, free hand moving to hold the offending ankle, and Bucky finds himself right behind you, hand on your back, argument and anger completely forgotten at your soft gasps of pain.

“Are you alright honey?” He hurries to ask, unsurprised when you try to push him away.

“Get lost, Bucky!” You warn, voice shaky, and you try to stand on your own, only to hiss in pain again, subconsciously reaching out and balancing yourself on the arm Bucky quickly extends to catch you.

“Honey, come on, you’ve hurt yourself, lemme help you inside…” He’s already helping you stand, and your pain must be strong enough that you can’t refuse him, even in your infuriated state.

He supports half your weight as you slowly ascend the stairs, whining softly each time you put a little too much pressure on your foot. The door is unlocked, so he helps you in right away, guiding you into a kitchen chair and immediately rummaging under the sink for the medical kit Sarah Rogers had always kept there. You sniffle softly, but glare hard at your lap, even as he sets the little box on the table and kneels down to take your injured foot in his hands.

You gasp sharply at the contact, but when he looks up at you to make sure you’re okay, you quickly turn your head, refusing to look at him. Bucky only sighs, and gently begins removing your shoe. You hadn’t bothered with pantyhose today, so he begins gently applying pressure around the already red and swollen joint, feeling for abnormalities.

“Tell me if it hurts real bad, okay?” He speaks softly, only a grunt meeting him in reply.

The ankle doesn’t feel broken, and he’d had plenty of field experience with broken bones, so he was pretty confident in his assessment. He’s sure you’d just twisted it. The steps had been a little wet from the rain, it was most likely the cause.

“Think you just twisted it, honey… I think if you’d torn any muscles you’d have kicked me in the face by now.” He tries to joke, but you still have your head turned dramatically, petulant like a child, refusing to look at him.

“I could kick you in the face anyway right now.” You seethe, and he knows that you mean it. Still, it doesn’t stop him chuckling, placing your foot back on the floor and moving to grab a bag of frozen peas from the freezer. You shift in discomfort when he places your foot on the opposite stool, and covers it with the makeshift ice pack, but don’t say anything else.

Bucky sighs, and crouches down in front of you again. When he covers your hands, resting in your lap, with his own, you jerk away from him, and fold them across your chest.

“Baby…” He half-heartedly scolds, but doesn’t relent, anchoring himself at your hips as he leans further into your field of view, wondering just how far you can turn your head before it twists right off, but you simply close your eyes instead. Bucky can’t help but chortle again.

“Honey… Emilia. Would ya just look at me for a second?”

Your response is to scrunch your nose, and he sighs, hanging his head.

“I guess a kiss really does mean nothing to you.” He says, and you take the bait, eyes flicking open wide to glare at him in disbelief, mouth curled in disgust, likely about to tell him to get the hell out of your house, or make good on your threat to kick him. But he grins, and you realise his trickery, having gained your attention at last, and you make a hmpfh noise, folding your arms again.

“Baby, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it. I was just… angry. But I didn’t mean it. It’s not true.” He ducks into your line of vision, his grin falling away as he apologises, hoping to god you hear him out. At last you break, turning to look at him again with clear hurt and upset written on your face.

“You didn’t even call.” You relent with a scolding tone, but he hears the whine behind it and coos, reaching up to cup the side of your face and wipe at a tear track there.

“I know. I’m sorry. I was just… I thought maybe you’d still been a little drunk, and… this isn’t exactly the most normal of circumstances, sweetheart…” He drops his hand back to your leg, and you purse your lips in thought, eyes not meeting his, but darting around as you gather yourself.

“Vinnie came by to apologise. He was really sorry—”

“—He’d better be—”

“—But I told him I didn’t think we were any good together. We broke up.” You ignore his bitter interruption and finally meet his eye, a little nervously. Bucky feels a swirl of hope, elation, and then a crashing guilt as he remembers how he’d just yelled at you. He hangs his head again, pressing his forehead to your knee as he squeezes his eyes shut.

“Shit… Babydoll, I— I’m so sorry, I—” He lifts his head, and shakes it, at his own behaviour. You watch him closely, but don’t say anything at first. You do sniff a little though.

“I don’t like bein’ yelled at…” You say eventually, sniffling a little more, and Bucky nods profusely, reaches out to cup your cheek again, but you don’t cry.

“I won’t yell again. I promise. I’m sorry.” He searches your face, sees how his prolonged absence had caused you doubt, and hates himself for it.

“Come out with me.” He blurts, mouth moving before his brain can catch up, but for once, he’s okay with it. Your eyes widen then, frowning, confused, worried.

“I— but—” You blink rapidly trying to gather your thoughts, before you bite your lip.

“… What about Steve…?”

Bucky knows Steve’s approval, his support, is vital to you, and he’d be lying if he said it wasn’t vital to him too. If he went behind Steve’s back, if he wasn’t okay with it, and the two of you went ahead with things anyway, Bucky doesn’t know if he’d be able to be with you, but lose Steve…

He grimaces.

“I’ll talk to Steve.” He asserts, before pausing. This time when he reaches for your hands, you let him take them, and he holds them in your lap, letting his thumbs glide over the backs of your fingers softly.

“Come out with me, Mills?” He asks again, properly, and for the first time since he’d seen you today, you smile a little, small, but genuine and you nod shyly.

“Okay.”

Bucky grins.

—-

The hall is loud, but not too wild. It wasn’t a super new club, filled with all the young kids, swing dancing and drinking to their hearts’ content. It was a mellower place, an older one. Most of the patrons were vets, as far as Bucky can tell, if their haircuts and posture were anything to go by.

There were still people dancing, certainly, but the lighting was a little dimmer, the music a little slower. It was a nice place, good for catching up at the end of the week. Good for having hard conversations and making sure Captain America wouldn’t start a public brawl.

Hopefully.

Bucky insists on getting the first round, delivering the two beers to the table toward the back, one side of the seat a booth style lounge, the other a wooden chair that Bucky opted to take, out of fear it might break under Steve’s weight.

“What have you done?” Steve asks seconds after placing his drink down. The alcohol did nothing for him, but he had come to enjoy the taste. Bucky blinks at him, shakes his head and tries to shrug, but he’s fixed in place with a knowing look. Steve crosses his arms over his chest and leans on the table, head cocked.

“Buck.” He scolds lightly. Bucky pinches his brow and takes a large swig of his drink. Alcohol had marginally more of an affect on him than it did Steve, but it still took quite a bit for him to keep a buzz, these days.

“I need you to listen to everything I have to say before you make a judgement, okay? This is… important.” Bucky fiddles with his beer mat, straightening it out, before he anxiously meets Steve’s curious, concerned gaze.

“Alright…” The blond agrees, his brows knit together as he waits for Bucky to speak. But his mouth feels dry, even though he’d just drank seconds ago, he feels like the whole damn Sahara desert had taken up residency on his tongue and he swallows thickly several times.

“I wanna take Emilia out.” He says, ripping the bandaid off. He makes sure he speaks clearly and loud enough that there would be no mistaking his words.

“On a date.” He adds a moment later.

Steve stares at him, his eyes narrowing just slightly, as if trying to discern if this were a joke, or as if it could help him see further into Bucky’s mind.

“I… I’ve been thinking about it… her, for a while and, I know it’s… odd. I’ve known her her whole life, but… she’s…” God, he feels like such a creep, spouting all of this to Steve, your brother, but he needs to say it, needs Steve to know that he’s serious.

“She’s an amazing woman, Steve, you know that, but this past year, since we’ve been home… I don’t know. I just… It’s different, now.” Bucky pauses, sucks in a deep breath. Steve hasn’t moved an inch since narrowing his eyes, he just stares at the other man silently, and frankly, it was rather unnerving.

“I haven’t felt this way about a girl before. I wanna take her out, I wanna hold her hand, spend time with her… At least ten times a day my mind goes to what she’d think about something, or what she might say, if she’d laugh or…” He’s rambling now, he knows it, but he can’t stop himself.

“Steve, I have tried to move past it, but… I can’t. And she can’t either. She wants to go with me, but we both need to know you’re okay with this.” Finally, he shuts his mouth, finishing with a firm statement of intent, and returns his friend’s steely gaze.

Steve’s lips slowly purse, and then just as slowly, he reaches out and lifts his drink to his lips. In seconds, the entire thing is gone, and he carefully places it back down on the coaster before meeting Bucky’s eye.

“That morning I found her at your apartment,” He begins, voice unreadable, but tight. Bucky jumps, hands up immediately.

“That was the complete truth! Nothing happened, I swear to God!” He hurries to say. He didn’t need to mention the kiss. He really didn’t need to know about that.

Steve watches him, and then leans back in his seat, lips still pursed, eyes still trained on his best friend.

“You’d better be serious.” He says, at last, his tone filled with threat. Bucky’s eyes widen a little, but he nods.

“I am.”

“Cause if you hurt her, I don’t mind going to prison.” Steve’s warning is real, but there's a levity in his voice now that makes Bucky breath a sigh of relief.

“What if she hurts me?” He shoots back, the feeling in his fingers that he hadn’t realised had gone numb, returning suddenly.

Steve scoffs, but grins, and shrugs.

“You’d probably deserve it, punk.”

For a moment things feel normal once more. Bucky takes a self-congratulatory sip of his beer and feels the world settle around him again.

“But you know I’m not gonna treat you any different just cause we’re friends, right?” Steve adds a moment later, eyebrow lifted. Bucky snorts.

“Pick her up at the door, home by ten, yeah, yeah, I know.” He rolls his eyes before pausing, lowering his glass to fix Steve with a serious expression once more.

“I’ll be good to her, you know me, Steve.”

“I do know you. Which is why I’m okay with it, and also why I know not to let you take her on The Wonder Wheel.” Another joke, but another unspoken warning. Bucky scoffs in only half mock-offence.

“Listen, that was one time.”

“Uh-huh.”

“You callin’ me a one-trick pony, jerk?!”

“You’d better be.”

Bucky chortles, and even Steve can stop his grin.

The tension eases, and the conversation moves on. Peggy joins them shortly after she clocks off, a couple of the other boys ambling in a while later, but Bucky still can’t stop thinking about their conversation. As the topic turns to upcoming assignments, and trainee recruitment, all Bucky can think about is where he was going to take you come Friday night.

—-

Steve sits on the couch, the baseball play-by-play running on the brand new radio he’d splashed out and bought as an early Christmas gift for you both, a subtle nudge to you that you were no longer poor, thanks to his job, and that you should start looking for a place in a nicer part of the city. You were reluctant though, and he didn’t seem to push it.

However loud the radio announcer is, Steve isn’t listening, and although he was feigning an air of casualty, you can see right through him. You hadn’t actually talked to him about your date with Bucky, but Bucky had told you the verdict, and it had been an unspoken thing all week.

You finally exit your room a few minutes before six, feeling exposed and as if under a microscope, even though you’d chosen a nice, but decidedly modest dress, not one you’d usually wear on a date, but you’d overthought everything in your closet until you’d settled on this one.

Your hair had taken the most time, you didn’t usually do much with it, but you’d wanted it to look nice tonight, your urge to act like nothing was different or happening with Steve, at odds with how you wanted to impress Bucky…

You wonder if the strangeness will ever pass.

You hope it does.

“Um… do I look okay…?” You ask, breaking through your brother’s thoughts and snapping his attention to you at the door to the living room, where you awkwardly perform a slow twirl, finishing with a thin smile. Steve stands, out of some old fashioned politeness, even though you were just his sister, and takes you in properly.

Anxiety builds as you see his eyes linger on the shiny pins you’d used in your hair, your mother’s, and not something you had ever worn before. They were far too special for that. But at last, he smiles, softly, and more importantly, genuinely, stepping toward you.

“You look beautiful.” He tells you, leaning down to embrace you lightly, and for the first time all week, you feel most of your nervous energy leave you. To know Steve wasn’t secretly upset, to hear some form of approval from his own mouth meant more to you than you’d realised.

You open your mouth, but knocking at the door stops you. Your heart beat speeds up, a different sort of nervousness coming now, and Steve looks to the door. Giving you a small smile, he steps past you.

You wring your hands for a moment as you hear him open the door and greet Bucky, their voices soft, but unintelligible to your ears. You smooth down your dress one last time as footsteps approach, and catch your breath just as Bucky appears in the doorway. Steve stands behind him, trying not to look as uncomfortable or awkward as you all felt.

“Hi…!” You squeak, face hot and warm. Bucky gives you a quick once over, and, knowing Steve couldn’t see his face, he throws you a wink, before holding out the flowers he’d brought you.

“You look lovely. These are for you.” He sounds sincere, but you imagine this was the usual schtick he came out with when he’d picked a girl up in the past, her parents present and judging him. You didn’t expect a hug and a kiss on the cheek, it wouldn’t have seemed proper, all things considered.

You smile, and take the flowers from him, smelling them briefly.

“Thank you…” You sigh, momentarily forgetting Steve’s presence until he clears his throat and steps forward.

“I’ll… I’ll go put them in some water…” He offers, both a favour and giving the two of you a moment alone, likely acknowledging the discomfort of his presence.

Blindly, you let him take them, aware he shuffles off to the kitchen, but you don’t look away from Bucky. You step closer, opening your mouth, but he brings a finger to his lips, and then points toward the kitchen, and then at his own ears with a playful grin. You understand the message perfectly, glad for the reminder of Steve’s enhanced hearing, and you duck your head, stifling a giggle as he swoops in close, briefly cupping your cheek and pressing his lips to it, before stepping back again.

“You all ready?” He clears his throat and asks, another cookie-cutter line, but you don’t mind.

“Yep.” You stay grinning at one another, unable to hide your pure giddiness.

“Well, we’ll wait for Steve to see us off.” He suggests, voice lifting just slightly, and you hear the movement in the kitchen pause, before footsteps quickly return the big blond man to the living room doorway.

“Alright, uh, you guys have a… a good night.” He clears his throat twice while speaking, following as you move to the door, Bucky holding it open for you as you step out, turning back around to face your brother, who turns his attention to Bucky.

“I know you know the drill.”

“Aye, aye, Cap.” Bucky straightens and salutes, only making Steve relax at last, his shoulders dropping from their tensed state as he rolls his eyes.

“Behave. Both of you.” He says, an exasperated kind of sigh leaving him, and you step in one last time, kissing his cheek, before moving back to Bucky’s side again.

“We’ll see ya later, Steve.” Bucky bids him farewell as you move to the stairs, his hand briefly gliding to your lower back before he suddenly snaps it away, fully aware of the eyes that still watch you go.

It’s not until the door shuts, and you’ve rounded out of the side alley and onto the main road that you fully feel relief flood your system. You let out a laugh, and shake your head.

“I hope it’s not like that every time.” You say, stomach fluttering when Bucky looks down at you with an amused smile, brow raised.

“You planning on letting me take you out again, already?” He nudges your side gently, and your face grows warm again.

Normally, a single date would have just been that, no expectation for a second unless it was agreed upon after… but this was different. You know Bucky wouldn’t have risked his friendship with Steve for a single date. He made it clear he meant something more serious.

“Unless you really screw up, I don’t see why not.” You lift your nose a little, pretending to be annoyed by his teasing, but his satisfied hum, and the way he reaches for your hand right after, pulling you close and locking his fingers with yours makes you forget your act pretty quickly.

This time, holding hands with Bucky doesn’t feel so strange, it feels nice, and natural, and you can’t wipe the permanent smile from your lips as you let him lead you down the streets of Brooklyn.

Bucky takes you for dinner and dancing, and despite some of the initial nervous energy you can feel between you, it dissipates quickly. You laugh and talk and even though the memories of your shared past linger at the back of your mind, for the first time in a long time it almost feels like you’re with an entirely different person. An entirely different person who you knew like the back of your hand, mind you.

You end up by the pier, having decided to leave the loudness of the club in favour for walking and talking in the warm evening breeze. Bucky holds tightly to your hand and the tether is so warm and comforting you almost forget the act of walking at all. You feel more like you were just floating, Bucky guiding you along.

“I forgot to ask, how’s your ankle?” Bucky looks down at you then, coming to a stop near the end of the broadwalk. You blink at him for a moment, before remembering how you’d twisted it the last time you’d seen him.

“Oh, it’s fine… clearly it wasn't serious…” You shrug. You’re unsure how to say that his words had hurt more than the minor injury had. Bucky nods, a small smile gracing his features, unaware of where your mind wanders now, and you bite your lip, taking a moment to gaze out at the water before you can bring yourself to speak again.

“Why did you say it?”

You feel Bucky look at you, but you can’t look back yet.

“Say what?” He asks, but the quietness in his voice tells you he knows.

“You said a kiss is nothing, that it doesn’t mean anything.” You can’t help but frown now, even as you hear him sigh, and he tugs at your hand, until you’re forced to face him. Your eyes stay turned down, but you’re acutely aware of how close he stands now, how he lifts his other hand to cup your cheek.

“Milly… I’m sorry. I was upset, but I didn’t mean it.” He says. You know he’s already apologised, but that isn’t what you want.

“I know that you’re sorry, Bucky, I just want to know why you even said it in the first place.” Your voice sits somewhere between a whine and a huff, and you try your very best not to pout, but you think you might be failing.

Bucky takes a deep breath and looks away for a second, squinting at the murky waters of the harbour.

“I guess because it’s true. Sometimes.” He says, prompting you to snap your gaze to his. Your frown deepens as fear builds in your stomach. So he did mean it?!

A million thoughts of doubt run through your mind in the time it takes him to lift his free hand to cup your other cheek too.

“A single kiss could be brushed off as nothing, but not twice.”

You barely have a moment to respond before he’s leaning in, and just like that morning in his apartment, you’re immediately breathless, immediately in want of more.

Bucky’s lips press softly against your own, not exactly chaste, but he doesn’t open his mouth as he’d done before. He attempts to pull back, but seems to give up halfway, his arm falling around your back as you fling your own around his neck, leaning heavily against him.

The doubt runs away, chased off by the way in which Bucky kisses you, the hint of something held back only making you want to push for more. But eventually, he really does pull away, though he cradles you close, forehead against your own, noses nudging.

The smile that breaks across your face barely contains the laughter you feel, the happiness threatening to burst at the seams. Bucky returns your soft gaze, and before you know it, he’s leading you in a slow sway.

“See, sweetheart? Now it means something.”

[infinitydivine]

Their late-night thoughts about you: Pick a Pile Reading

✨If this reading resonates with you, kindly share it to help your reader :)

��The extended reading can be found on my Patreon and is also available for sale as a post without becoming a member :)

Masterlist -Paid Readings-Paid Readings Reviews-PAC Readings-My Patreon

Choose your pile intuitively. Take what resonates and leave the other things. If you think this reading is not for you then choose another pile. If still it doesn't resonate then this might not be your reading. There are Three Piles.

Hello Pile 1~~~

It always happens when the world starts to slow down. The lights are off, the phone’s on charge, and they’re finally lying still like no distractions, no noise. That’s when their mind wanders. And, somehow, without fail, it ends up back on you.

It’s not dramatic and also it’s not some grand emotional breakdown every night. But it’s there...quietly and constantly. You my loves show up in the smallest of moments...as a memory or as a glance. A feeling they can’t quite name. And sometimes they just lie there thinking, “Why do I keep thinking about them?”

Honestly, they don’t really get it either. Maybe they’ve tried to distract themselves, dive into work, scroll endlessly or mindlessly, talk to friends, or convince themselves they’ve “moved on.” But the truth is, your presence or your energy stays like a song they can’t get out of their head. Not because of something specific you did, but because of how you made them feel. And that part? It’s not easy to ignore my loves.

Read the extended post here.

If you liked the reading, book a personal reading with me or you could leave a tip for the reader.

Hello Pile 2~~~

My loves of pile 2- There’s something about you they can’t shake, even now. Even when they tell themselves to move forwar and if they pretend it didn’t mean that much. But it did And it still does.

At night, when everything quiets down and they finally put their phone down or stop pretending to be busy, you come back. And not just like a thought. You come back like a feeling. Like a wave that keeps returning to the shore, no matter how far the tide goes out.

They don’t just think of what happened between you two. They think of what could’ve been. They imagine alternate timelines. Versions of the story where you both had better timing, more clarity, or just a little more courage. It hurts sometimes the way life didn’t exactly cooperate. It’s not about blame. It’s about longing. That feeling of knowing something real touched your life and wondering if it was supposed to stay longer than it did. Read the extended post here.

If you liked the reading, book a personal reading with me or you could leave a tip for the reader.

Hello Pile 3

Okay, so first thing, your pile is the only pile that has any channelled song...and that for you guys is Glimpse of Us by Joji.

My loves of Pile 3~~~Some people hit you like a wave, all at once. But you? You make your way in gently, quietly. And now, when the world slows down and everything is still, you’re the one they find themselves thinking about.

It’s strange because they didn’t expect to care this much. In fact, they probably told themselves it wasn’t that deep maybe even convinced others it wasn’t serious. But now, when the lights are off and they’re left alone with their thoughts, your name is the one first things that come to their mind and that too quite a lot actually.

They’re not the type to show much, Maybe they’re emotionally reserved, or maybe they didn’t even realize what they were feeling at the time. But there’s something about late nights that strips away all that armour. It’s when truth bubbles up. And lately? The truth is... they miss you. Read the extended post here.

If you liked the reading, book a personal reading with me or you could leave a tip for the reader.

Thank you and Love,

Infinity

[flowersforthemachines]

wip whenever

Thank you @inquisimer for tagging me <3 (and for @rookamell tagging me this Wednesday)

I FINALLY finished this piece today (and it will hopefully be released on the 19th, the 7 month anniversary of the Rookanis divorce idea), so this should count as a little celebration 🌸

#wip: small hours

The silence between them didn’t stretch for long, as Rook returned to the delighted cooing with her griffon, mostly involving the words “good boy” in many of their contexts and variations, spiced up by an abundance of rubs and scratches. He only watched without intervening, though he could feel Spite grow restless at the scene for reasons that were beyond him.  Why not us? Spite asked at last.  Why not us what?  She never talks like that to us.  Lucanis shuddered. No, she doesn't. Because I'm not a griffon. He scoffed. Or a dog.  “Hm?” Rook looked away from the griffon to face him. “You were saying?” Mierda. “It was… meant for Spite,” he tried to save face. “Did I say something out loud?” “You did,” she confirmed. “And agree — you really are not a dog, or a griffon. But if you want to be…” “What are you—” “Now, who’s a good boy?” Rook cupped his face, rubbing circles into his beard with her thumbs. “The handsomest man in all of Antiva?” A wave of warmth went through his body that he wished he could attribute only to embarrassment. Inside him, Spite revelled in excitement.  “Who is strong, and skilled, but also gentle and kind?” she went on. His heart continued skipping beats. “And makes the absolute best desserts in Thedas?” Us! “You are ridiculous,” he huffed out with fondness that he couldn’t help.  “And you,” she leaned down, letting her nose brush against his, “are all the things I’ve said. And so much more.” 

No tags from me since I believe everyone more or less already posted things on Wednesday, but if you have something to share, please do and tag me in <3

[holylulusworld]

Mr. Holmes' Maid (7)

Summary: You’re his maid.

Pairing: Sherlock Holmes x Maid!Reader

Warnings: angst, power imbalance, master-servant relationship, the reader was an orphan, inappropriate behavior, fluff, bitchy Irene, angry Sherlock, hurt and comfort, miscommunication

Mr. Holmes’ Maid (6)

Mr. Holmes’ maid masterlist

The next few days blend into one another. You didn’t see much of Sherlock, and he didn’t come to you at night.

You spent your time serving tea and enduring Irene Adler’s presence as he buried his nose into documents and police reports.

While you tried to ignore the silence between you and your master, Irene didn’t miss any chance to give snide comments or make sure you knew your place.

Irene Adler was a sharp but also cruel woman. She couldn’t bear sharing Sherlock’s attention with someone as plain and unworthy as a maid. You were nothing but scum in her eyes, not worth the dirt under her nails.

Doing your duty was all you could do. A maid holds no power, and Sherlock was busy discussing the case with Irene. You didn’t dare tell him about the things she said and did to you.

More than once, she tripped you, pushed you around, and poured hot tea over your hands and feet.

Today was the worst day of all. You tried to read a book at Sherlock’s library. It was always open to you, and he was kind enough to teach you to read even better.

Mabel helped you at the orphanage, but Sherlock taught you how to read more difficult words. You are able to read even the most difficult books now, thanks to your master.

“Scum is not allowed at the library,” Irene snapped at you the moment you entered the library to put a book back and get a new one to read before going to bed. You didn’t know she was still around and flinched at her harsh words. “I told you to know your place.”

“I…Master Sherlock allowed me to borrow books,” you defiantly said, holding up the book you wanted to give back.

“As if the likes of you could read!” She snatched the book out of your hands before backhanding you with it. “A useless maid and a thief, too. I’ll talk to Sherlock about you.”

“Master Sherlock knows I borrowed the book.” You sniffled and tried to get the book back to put it back on the shelf. Sherlock likes to have his books in order.

“You should watch your tongue and stop with that attitude,” she huffed and flung the book across the room. “The moment I’m Mrs. Sherlock Holmes, you'll be back on the street where you belong. Now get out of here!”

You stormed out of the room, choking on your tears. Sherlock wasn’t around; he was out for another investigation, so he couldn’t see you lock yourself into your room to cry your eyes out.

“Maid?” Sherlock knocked on your door later at night. He was seeking your closeness, wondering why you locked the door for the first time since he took you in. “Y/N, is something wrong? Aren’t you feeling well?”

He pressed his forehead against the door, sighing deeply. All Sherlock wanted was to hold you in his arms after days filled with the new investigation and Irene Adler.

“Maid, are you mad at me? Please let me in.” He gently knocked again. “Have a good night, then. We can talk in the morning.”

The next morning, you silently packed up your things. Irene made it clear that you are no longer welcome at Sherlock’s home, and he didn’t stop her. Even if he wasn’t around when Irene attacked you, he must’ve known she hates you and wanted you gone. You were sure about it.

The seamstress offered help, and now the time had come to accept her generous offer. You were not too bad at knitting and sewing. If they let you stay at their place, you would pay them back with hard work until you get back on your feet.

Leaving your master and his home was the hardest decision you ever made. There was no place for you here any longer. You didn’t want to wait for Lady Irene to push you out in the dirt, onto the street to live among the sewer rats.

You’ll take what’s left of your pride, if you ever had pride in the first place, and follow the seamstress’s advice.

“Where’s the little maid today?” Irene watched Sherlock sulk. He was staring at the same pages for half an hour and didn’t pay attention to her. “Sherlock, did you hear me?”

“She didn’t leave her room this morning,” he grumbled and waved her off. “Maybe she’s not feeling well. Y/N is always reliable and a good maid.” Sherlock was still wound tight from your silent rejection last night.

“You should get rid of that useless maid. She’s clumsy and a thief,” she accused you of stealing the book you borrowed from Sherlock’s library. “She dared to lie to my face. Can you believe this maid? She deserved more than one slap.”

Sherlock didn’t listen to Irene’s rant until she mentioned you. He lifted his head, glaring daggers into her skull. He slowly rose from his seat, dropping the papers in his hands, to stalk toward Irene.

She stiffened, her breath hitching in her throat when his large palm wrapped around her throat. A scream tore from her throat when her back hit the wall behind her.

Sherlock wasn’t proud of his reaction. He never laid a hand on a dame before. Until now, he saw himself as a protector, not a violent man pushing ladies around.

“You will never touch my maid again,” he growled, his eyes darker than the pits of hell. “Who gave you the right to touch her? I allowed her to use my library, and you come here, uninvited, and dare to change my rules?”

Irene was shaking like a leaf. She was never easily scared, not even by men telling her she could not be a detective. Sherlock’s reaction, though, scared her to the bone.

“If you ever come here again, I’ll make sure you regret it. If I hear you touched my maid again, you will regret that, too. We are done. Get out before I forget myself and break your neck.”

Irene watched Sherlock step away from her. The grim expression on his face told her this wasn’t one of his games. Sherlock was dead serious, and it made her regret her decision to ever lay hands on you.

“She’s just a mediocre maid. We share a past,” she stammered, eyes glued to his angry face. “Sherlock, we are great together.”

“No, we are nothing,” he replied and pointed toward the door. “Pray that you did not hurt my maid too much. If you did, I’ll be coming for you. You have ten seconds to get out of the room and my sight.”

Irene didn’t hesitate to run out of the room, never looking back. Her plan to get Sherlock back and become Mrs. Holmes was shattered with every step she took to leave his home.

“Maid? Y/N?” Sherlock knocked on your door. You were about to sneak out of the house in the dead of the night. Now you were trapped with no chance to escape. “Please open the door. Irene had no right to lay her hands on you.”

“I’ll be gone soon,” you sniffled and wiped your eyes. “She’ll be the lady of the house, and I'll get back to the sewer I came from.”

Sherlock’s heart stopped for a second. He didn’t hesitate this time. Sherlock rammed his shoulder into the door, over and over again, until the lock budged, and he was able to enter your room.

You were clutching your few belongings to your chest, tears in your eyes, seeing the state he was in.

“Maid. My sweet maid…no. Please don’t leave me,” he pounced on you, like his life depended on it. He murmured your name and gently ran his hand over your hair. “I should’ve seen what she’s doing to you, Y/N. I was distracted by the case and…”

He nuzzled your cheek. “No, that’s no excuse for leaving you alone with her. I’m sorry. Can you forgive me?”

“I should go,” you murmured. “If she becomes Mrs. Sherlock Holmes, I cannot stay. She said it herself.” You silently cried into his chest. Sherlock’s heart hurt hearing your desperate sobs.

“She’ll never become Mrs. Holmes,” he said without hesitation. Sherlock wanted to tell you that you are the only woman he wants to wear his name, but he couldn’t rush things. “Please stay with me. I cannot let you go.”

You didn’t fight him when Sherlock picked you up in bridal style to carry you out of your chamber and toward his bedroom.

You hid your face in his shoulder, still sobbing because the thought of leaving your master, your Sherlock, broke your heart.

[crimsonsaria]

@keferon Did your sleep deprivation just solve the problem of how to defeat the Quintessons in the Mecha AU? Hear me out because I think you did (though I am also sleep deprived so what do I know lol)!

Wheeljack I’m pretty sure he’s Cybertronian in the mech AU walks into Prowl’s office only to find human Jazz just hanging out on Prowl’s desk casually leaning on a stack of datapads. After the initial flurry of questions and explanations, he suddenly startles and stares intensely at Jazz. Prowl and Jazz start to get uncomfortable because it’s Wheeljack and you can never be sure what he’s planning. Finally Wheeljack yells “It could actually work now!” and with his helmfins practically blazing in excitement, rushes from the office and back to his lab.

No one sees him again for weeks and Jazz and Prowl sort of forget about the whole thing. That is until Wheeljack re-emerges from his lab with a tiny gun and puts it on the table in the middle of a strategy meeting. Everyone is super confused and low key waiting for it to explode. But Jazz just stares at it for a moment and then looks at the inventor to ask, “What’s with the potato gun?”

Everyone is now staring at Jazz and Prowl bites the bullet to ask, “What’s a potato?”

Grinning maniacally in his Mecha even if the Cybertronians can’t see it Jazz replies, "Po-tay-toes! Boil 'em, mash 'em, stick 'em in a stew. Lovely big, golden chips with a nice piece of fried fish—even you couldn’t say no to that!”

Everyone is still confused but they decide to write it off as a “human thing” and turn instead to Wheeljack for an explanation. Wheeljack happily explains that it’s actually a portal gun. Basically it can open a super small space bridge portal to any location and fire a Cybertronian in a heavily mass displaced version of their planetary entry comet form through the hole. The portal is so small and the comet form runs on the bare minimum even before having so much of it mass displaced that it would give them a way to enter quint territory completely undetectable to the Quints. They could quickly set up some major explosives and then use a remote space bridge control to open a regular size space bridge for their exit. By then it won’t matter if the Quints detect the exit bridge because moments after it closes their main headquarters is going to go boom!

Wheeljack explains he came up with the idea a while ago but discarded it because they didn’t have anyone with small enough hands to actually fire the gun. But now with Jazz here it could actually work! Those in the know understand immediately and begin getting cautiously excited about being able to take out vital but previously inaccessible Quintesson targets. Those not in the know look first at Jazz’s Mecha then at Wheeljack and just assume the inventor has gone even more crazy than usual.

Anyway thank you for sharing your brain children with us. Your AUs give me life lol!

I just had the stupidest idea ever. Transformers Portal AU where Jazz is a human with a portal gun and Prowl is a potato™

[dissolved-g1rl]

Could you maybe write a little thing about Vergil and Reader sharing one brain cell and ending up having Irish twins (a mom has two children who were born 12 months or less apart). Specifically them trying to introduce the new baby (you can pick the gender) to an almost 1 year old Nero. If you want to use that idea.

Please and thank you ☺️

little things

God forbid a man misses his wife. It had been one night, one night where Vergil had been particularly needy had resulted in yet another baby. Nero himself is still a baby, in the middle of his tenth month when you decide to pop. It was a a stressful moment for Vergil, rounding you up alongside your go bag, all while also wrangling Nero and his go bag, good thing he had the foresight to add the other carseat a week prior.

The two of them toddle inside your hospital room, Vergil is grasping Nero’s little hand, helping him walk. He’s got the hang of it pretty well, but Vergil wants to make sure he doesn’t go crazy and unplug anything. “Mommy!” You sit up hearing Nero’s little voice, adjusting the little swaddle in your arms. “Hi my loves.” You say soft and sweet, Nero looks too cute in his “I’m the big brother” shirt, it’s a little cheesy, but you love it. “Hi, doing okay?” Vergil sets Nero on top of the bed, taking off his little velcro sneakers so he doesn’t stomp around on the sheets. “‘M okay, the nurse brought me lunch.” You hum, he dips forward, stealing a kiss, you smile at him. “We ate before we left, lunch time for everyone I guess.” Vergil combs his fingers through Neros hair, he tilts his head back because its funny to look at his dad from upside down. It’s also fun when his dad dips down, rubbing their noses together, he breaks out into a heap of giggles which makes the baby stir.

You lightly rock the baby, and he’s soothed back to sleep, Nero turns his head, almost knocking his head against Vergils. He’s interested in the little mewls of his little brother. Nero pants like a puppy as he cuddles up next you, you can feel his little fingers digging into your arm as he tries to get a glimpse of the baby. “Wanna see your little brother?” You ask softly, unsure if he understands what you mean, he nods, a look of determination crosses his face, and he looks a hell of a lot like Vergil for a few moments. You adjust the baby in your arms, letting Nero have a good peek at his little brothers face. He stands up, leaning on you to look over. “Baby.” He murmurs, like he himself is not also a baby, “Yeah, a baby, your baby brother.” Vergil hums, trying to encourage him into verbalizing. “My baby.” Nero mumbles and you give Vergil a look, you’re a cocktail of postpartum hormones, and it’s just too sweet. Vergil understands and scoops up the baby from your arms, still letting Nero look at his brother’s little sleeping face. He pokes his brother’s face with his grubby little fingers, and luckily the baby doesn’t stir, “Careful Nero.” Vergils reminds, he’s a little on edge, it was less then an hour ago when the boy was smashing his toy cars together. “Can I have a cuddle Nero? Can you cuddle mom?” You ask noticing Vergils nerves, and like the sweetheart he is Nero flops on top of you, his white hair tickling the underside of your jaw. You rub his back, and he sprawls on top of you while Vergil stands to the side rocking the baby back and forth.

“My baby?” Nero asks curiously, you figure it’s his way of figuring out when he’ll get a turn with the baby again.

You laugh softly, kissing his little hand, “‘S dad’s turn right now, then it can be yours again.” You murmur softly, he copies your tone whispering back to you “Dad’s baby.” You laugh and nod.

Vergil smiles at the scene, taking sneaky whiffs of fresh baby smell. It seems like it was so long ago that Nero still had that smell. Two is enough for him, especially with the two babies being so close in age. He’s happy that Nero seems to be so fond of the baby, but no one is gonna replace his first born. It’s obvious with the way you let Nero sprawl out on you, that you think the same as he does.

dividers by @strangergraphics

a/n: fun fact i am an irish twin

[ghostlyferrettarot]

💿˖ִ ࣪⚝₊ ⊹˚Pick a Picture: All about the new era you are entering in your life💿˖ִ ࣪⚝₊ ⊹˚

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💿˖ִ ࣪⚝₊ ⊹˚Pile 1:

🃏 The Sun – Queen of Wands – The Empress

First of all pile 1, wow, im so happy for you. You're entering your "Main Character Era." Ifeel like you've lived in the background for a long time. Maybe out of fear, maybe out of habit, maybe because you were taught that being "too much" is uncomfortable. But that cycle has ended. What's coming now is a stage in which you're reconnecting with your power. You're letting go of asking permission to exist fully. The cards show me a rebirth! I know this transition can be scary. Because starting to live as the protagonist involves making new decisions, setting boundaries, letting go of what no longer resonates with you. You may even lose some connections. People who were used to a more accommodating or silent version of you may react with discomfort. But it's not your responsibility to make yourself small to sustain bonds that only survive if you disappear a little. It's time to grow, even if that means making yourself uncomfortable. You're also going to start seeing yourself differently. You're going to speak to yourself with more truth, asking yourself: "What do I want?". And the best part is, you don't even need to have all the answers. You just need the intention to never give up on yourself again. You're learning to trust yourself, even when everything isn't clear. You're healing that idea that you have to have everything under control to move. You're giving yourself permission to write your story. You're embodying the version of you that no longer wants to hide. That no longer needs external approval to shine. You don't need to do everything perfectly, because life isn't looking for someone flawless. It's looking for someone who has the it factor, and you do. Welcome to your Main Character Era!!!!

💿˖ִ ࣪⚝₊ ⊹˚Pile 2:

🃏 Ace of Cups – The Star – The Emperor

You are entering your IT GIRL ERA pile 2. And it's not just about style, or aesthetics (although i feel like you do have an eye for fashion), but rather a very clear energy. The world is beginning to see you as you already began to see yourself. This new chapter doesn't come out of nowhere. You've worked on your inner self. You've questioned a lot. You've felt invisible, out of place, displaced, or even exhausted from faking a version of yourself that didn't do you justice, but not anymore.

But you're going to start attracting attention, opportunities, even people, like a magnet. Why? Because your energy is aligned with your truth. You're no longer vibrating from insecurity. You're vibrating from the silent confidence of someone who knows what they're doing. You're going to start influencing others without even realizing it (maybe you will even start posting on social media). The way you dress, your decisions, your way of speaking or sharing your life, all of this is going to feel inspiring to others. You're setting trends just by being you. Prepare to receive unexpected compliments, new connections, moments of visibility that will take you by surprise; i also see a glow up on the way, you could be changing your makeup. But above all, prepare to feel good about yourself. You're reclaiming your space, your voice, your way of being in the world. And you no longer need to diminish yourself. You don't need to compete. You just need to be. And that's exactly what you're doing; so happy for you pile 2 <3.

💿˖ִ ࣪⚝₊ ⊹˚Pile 3:

🃏 6 of Wands – The Fool – Knight of Wands

OMG pile 3, You already felt it, right? That feeling that something huge is about to happen. As if you'd been preparing, not quite knowing what for, but with the certainty that all the internal work, the difficult decisions, were because of something bigger. Because now you're entering your FAMOUS ERA. You're about to be rewarded pile 3. But not for something superficial. You're being recognized for what you've built with your hands, with your heart, with your difficult decisions, with your truth. I see a long time project of yours succeding, or an idea you had that is finally coming true. This new era isn't easy. You could to reach places and people you never imagined. You're no longer turning down the volume on your power to be more "acceptable" or more "discreet." And yes, you're going to attract attention. You're going to be more visible. You're going to start feeling the energy moving differently. Maybe people start contacting you for new things. Maybe your social media presence is growing. Maybe your name is starting to appear in conversations you didn't even know you were even talking about. It's your moment. It may also be that you'll start generating more stable income or one that's more aligned with what you love. Maybe you'll launch something. Maybe you'll finish a project that seemed impossible. It could be a personal brand, a book, a community, a new career. This era also requires commitment. It requires that you believe in yourself even when imposter syndrome appears. It requires you to take care of yourself, to set boundaries, to honor your energy. And you need to keep choosing truth over validation. But don't worry. You already have the inner maturity to sustain this. You are no longer the old version that doubted its potential. So yes, welcome to your ✨FAMOUS ERA✨ pile 3.

💿˖ִ ࣪⚝₊ ⊹˚Thanks for reading and let me know if it resonated!💿˖ִ ࣪⚝₊ ⊹˚

[6riix]

Its a classic but couldyou write fem! reader with dazai, ranpo, chuuya, juono, and tetchou when you wear their clothes plz? This prompt never gets old

Okay ill get out of your hair now lol :’)

Hhhh this is probably one of the only prompt where I don't have to stare at my tab for 26 minutes before finally writing a line 😭

This report contains: fluff, enough of it to fill 42.3 pillows. Some established relationships (yes WE are married to Chuuya twin) , situationships, cussing (not in dialogue), crack, you know— the usual deal.

Also this is likely gonna be divided into 4 seperate posts to make sure you guys at least get some crumbs in this fic drought

,! Dazai ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳

Oftentimes, you and Dazai would be home at around the same time unless there were any emergencies, or if one of you two went into overtime. Surprisingly, both of these hypothetical situations where exactly the case today.

Dazai was out on a case, and you had to get home much earlier than usual as your office building apparently had some emergencies, of which you didn't know the specific details. It often wouldn't have been considered too much of a situation in other organizations, but the manager in charge insisted upon the leave. Not that you complained, in fact— you were quite thankful for her decision as work had been getting quite tiring these days. You'd have to get her a gift for her consideration soon, since it was also going to be her one year anniversary of working there.

Walking home, it had started to rain heavily, it seemed a thunderstorm was going to come up soon as well. Reaching into your bag, in search of an umbrella, you kept your pace. It was to your utter misfortune, that as you looked inside trying to grasp the missing umbrella, you remembered how you had forgotten it at home in the stand, being in a rush to get to work so your coworker wouldn't scold you for your tardiness again today.

What luck you had, getting half the day off just to go home soaking wet with rainwater. Were your clothes even dry yet? You don't remember putting them in the dryer, maybe they were still wet. You'd likely just have to wear whatever mildly comfortable clothes you could find, maybe Dazai's ones since he was sharing an apartment with you.

---

After getting home and drying yourself with a soft towel, you looked through your own closet first to check if you did have any clothes you could wear, but your search was in vain as the only clothes you found were your fancier outfits and a pair of jeans, and there was absolutely no way you were gonna wear jeans at home. Pushing the closet door shut, you went over to see if Dazai's selection was any better. Sometimes it felt strange that his clothes were stored in a large plastic box, the kind that could be used to move around cargo (For measurements, it's about 55 × 30 inches). Upon opening it, you found multiple rolls of bandages, not a huge surprise, but after a bit of light shuffling, you had found a pale bluish lavender long sleeve, that had the soft half cotton, half something you didn't know fabric looser at the sleeves and the hem, pooling it a bit creating a cozy, puffy look for the top. Right beneath it, you found a pair of pastel blue sweatpants, just what you needed. Slipping them on, you went with what you would usually do on a day alike to the current one, , finishing up a few chores, making some instant ramen for the show you were watching, that sort of stuff.

Eventually, it had gotten late enough for you to make some dinner, a bit of ramen as per usual, just with more condiments (in instant ramen we trust) . You debated leaving some for Dazai, considering whether he would want to eat it or not. While at first you were hesitant, you ended up leaving some for him anyways. It could be considered as a thank you for the clothes you had borrowed for a bit.

After eating up your dinner, (which btw, was absolutely delicious), you had decided to try your hand at the more sane sleep schedule and headed to bed, crashing down upon the futon on the floor. Sleep was slow, but you had managed to drift into it within what felt like twenty minutes, quite the record.

---

It had been around 1:47AM when dazai returned from his case, one that had gone slightly sideways but ended up alright at the end of the day. Walking into the apartment's cramped entry, long arms raised themselves upwards in a stretch to ease the very muscles that allowed them to move (no dazai is not buff I just like biology class). His eyes traveled to the shoe rack where your footwear would be, often sprawled in one spot, with one shoe tilted around eighty degrees from its proper, aligned spot. Today however, that didn't seem to be the case—rather, the exact opposite; your shoes were neatly placed, which was a rather rare situation based off how you'd usually be too tired to set them down properly (something he would tease you about, while also doing it himself, That hypocrite.)

Light, unheard footsteps echoed towards the room you resided in, knowing of the fact you were likely sleeping upon your futon, hair messily scattered upon the pillow from your constant tossing and turning (DON'T LIE I KNOW YOU DO THAT TOO). What exceeded his expectations however, was the sight he saw when he pulled the door ajar to peek his head in and check upon you. Rather than your usual clothes which you wore to sleep happily, the set which was most probably wet from the wash, he found you asleep in his clothes—truly a sight to behold. They were a bit too big for you, with your collarbones (collarbones give me boners man) out due to the collar not fitting too well, and the drawstrings on the pants being pulled too tight to ensure they won't loosen at any point.

The sight somewhat warmed his heart, it was quite cute you had to admit. And above all, it was you in his clothes. The very sight made him want to just smother you with kisses and hugs, to hold your sleeping frame in his arms. Yet he couldn't do all that without somehow managing to wake you up, so he only pressed a soft kiss to your forehead before heading off to get ready for bed, or in other words— plan to tease you about all day tomorrow.

𐚁๋࣭⭑ֶָ֢Chuuya.//

It was pretty much clear that after the tiring day of work you had, full of meetings and sudden last minute decisions not a single person could find the logic behind, you were absolutely tired out of your mind. Taking the taxi to your penthouse (for your driver had gotten explosive diarrhea and a huge family scandal within the same week, resulting in him having to quit), your glare could pierce through even the most bitter warriors to have ever been deployed on the battlefield, reducing them to a concerned heap of self consciousness and confusion. Yes, you could have just asked your husband to drive you home, but you'd prefer not to disturb him in his work hours. After all, disturbance was the very cause of your mood at the moment.

Time seemed to fly by as you gazed out the taxi window, more so zoning out into your own little world of thoughts rather than staring at the scenery outside. You hadn't noticed the traffic, or the fact that you were in your street already, so when you were notified by the driver about the payment, you quickly snapped out of the little world you were in, giving him his set payment then excusing yourself to leave and go back into your apartment.

Of the many misfortunes that had occurred specially for you, the heavy rainfall paired with your most comfortable pair of pyjamas, which so happened to be air drying outside, had seemed to be the greatest one of them all. Reaching to grab the darkened set, your hands met soggy, sopping wet and cool fabric, filling you with dread, for all the other clothes you had were still dripping wet as well.

With no other clothes to wear which would be comfortable enough to let you sleep, you chose to head over to walk over to the backup closet; chuuyas's wardrobe. Upon opening, stacks of hats and suits stared right at you.. Yep, definitely not the right clothes. Reaching down, you opened another section of the closet, which revealed exactly what you needed—those cute pyjamas Chuuya pretended he hated to wear. The soft, baby blue cotton material, printed with little flowers every four centimeters—that was just what you were gonna wear tonight. Quickly scooping the set up in your arms, you headed over to the washroom, where you would soak in your well deserved bath, and maybe use those cute little sanrio bath bombs you had once received.

——

Chuuya didn't take too long to return home from work that day, comparatively speaking. That didn't mean he wasn't stressed however, instead it probably indicated the opposite; some wild shit had went down at the mafia and he had to return early. If one were to stand near an area which his bike would cross, they could probably feel the frustration rolling off him like tendrils of coiling smoke. In a more declarative manner, he was pissed—extremely so.

He was a brewing mixture of tired, mad and stressed by the time he managed to park his bike and get into his apartment, with a storm of thoughts, business plans, scandals and organization wars raging on inside his mind— so much so that he didn't notice your change of outfit at first when you opened the door. However, a few seconds later, it had caught up to him—the oddity of your appearance. Upon closer look, (no joke my guy had to squint for ts) he had come to some sort of conclusion;

"Are those my pyjamas?" He dropped casually, turning his head to look at you.

You nodded in response, confirming his theory. He took off his hat into his hands, before turning his head around to look at you.

"You know, my clothes really do suit you well." He commented, with a slight curve of his lips (akin to a smile but with the cockiness of a smirk), before heading to the bedroom to change.

Maybe it was that very smile that had made your cheeks feel a bit warmer than usual.

HOLY SHIIITTT I PROCRASTINATED WAY TOO MUCH ON THIS OML. uh anyways, next parts gonna be jouno n ranpo so stay tuned ig? Sorry for the wait I didnt really have the energy to open Tumblr for the past few weeks and honestly I faced a whole wall of writers block and just—sftyfryhcrujsryudarcfvasadrfffffgrtyg

See you all around soon, and as always, stay tuned!!

[a99jazzybean]

HELLOOO

i don't recall if i've popped a req in here , so disregard if i already have requested something from you

but i was thinking about your chance fic 'with a taste of your lips' and i was thinking ,,,

could we get a chance x gn!reader who has an oral fixation ? not even a sexual oral fixation , just likes to keep their mouth occupied a lot (chewing on things, rubbing things against their lips, etc) .

maybe the reader has a habit of rubbing whatever is in their hand against their lips , and this time just so happens to be chance's d20

just a little thought 🤭🤭

bonus; here's a silly <3

Love this idea! Thank you for the request! And the art is absolutely adorable!

I did add a bit that was inspired by this drabble from @juicyasstender that was inspired by With a Taste of Your Lips... Inspiration inception!

Just a Taste

synop: You have to keep your mouth occupied and find the closest object is your D20. When Chance abruptly leaves the room, you discover that he can feel what you do to his die body. With this newfound information, you decided to have some fun...

words: 4.7K

includes: chancexgn!reader, masturbation, fondling objects, thigh fucking, orgasm denial, dom!chance, reader has a "hole" and "sex"

a/n: Guys, I love this concept that the objects can feel when you interact with their object form! Also, this is smutty. No minors!

“Stop biting your nails, you’re gonna get yourself sick.” Your mother snatched your hand from your mouth. 

“I can’t help it!” You whined.

It was true, you had a natural inclination to put whatever was in your hands to your mouth. Which in this case, happened to be your actual hand. When your mother released it back to you, you looked over your nails. Bitten down, almost bleeding. Even in your little childhood brain you knew this was likely a problem. 

“I suppose we can try and find something to help.” Your mother sighed.

This issue probably came from your father, who also had issues with keeping things out of his mouth. Especially his fingers. 

“How about gum, hmm?” She eyed the stand over the grocery store conveyor belt. “You’re old enough to have that, right?” She looked down at you.

You shrugged, pretty sure you had tried it once before. 

“Yeah, you’re old enough.” She snatched a pack of bubblegum, adding it to the rest of the groceries. 

When you exited the store, she handed you a piece. You popped it into your mouth and began chewing, finding the sensation quite satisfying. Thus, you had found at least one way to curb the need to comply with your oral fixation. 

Almost two decades later, you sit at your home office. Back to old bad habits, fingers in your mouth. You had been forgetting to purchase gum with your groceries ever since you couldn’t leave the house. Seeing the stand at the checkout was always a visual reminder, one you no longer had to aid you. For now, you found yourself chewing at your nails, or fidgeting with a nearby object on your lips. The latter happened to be less dangerous to your unsuspecting fingers. 

“You know, you’re gonna get sick if you keep doing that.” Mac sat in front of you as you typed away at their keyboard. 

“You sound like my mom.” You said, pulling out your thumb and inspecting it. A ragged tip of your nail greeted you, the skin around it red. “Though, you’re probably right.” 

“Phoenicia, could you add spearmint gum to the grocery list for the weekend?” You asked your phone. 

“You got it!” She cheerily spoke, putting the item on your list. 

While you wouldn’t have your oral aid for a few days, at least you remembered to add it this time. 

For now, you would have to find something else to keep your mouth occupied. From your peripheral, you spotted your lucky D20. The object had witnessed its fair share of days dancing upon your lips. Occasionally receiving a nibble. 

Shrugging your shoulders, you picked it up. Returning to your work on your computer you brought the die to your lips. Unaware of what exactly you were doing. 

From the end of your desk, Chance sucked in a groan. Feeling your lips ghost over various parts of his body. Eyes narrowing, he sent a glare to Mac. Of course they had to point out your habit. Leading you to unconsciously teasing him. 

Ever the people pleaser, Chance would never let you know how your actions affected him. He could only picture how embarrassed it would make you. Instead, he forced himself to suffer in silence. Watching as you brushed your lips over his die body, shivering with each touch. 

Looking to your side, you spotted Chance hunched over behind his GM screen. Peeking over, you saw him looking up at you with a red face.

“S-sorry!” You sputtered. “I swear I wasn’t trying to see what you were working on…” You obviously lied. 

“Mhmm, sure…” He held in a groan as you rubbed the die across your lips, feeling a kiss against his chest. “I’ll be sure to keep that in mind during our next session. Your character is at what…” he glanced down at his notes, “17 hp?” He gave you a cheeky grin, glad that your discussion of G&G was distracting him from what you were doing to his body. 

“Whaaaat??” You shuffled around your desk, looking for your character sheet. “Ah shit.” 

There it was, “17/85 hp”. Ugh, you’d probably have to take healing potion if you were planning on not dying next session. 

“If you hope to keep your mortal soul, I suggest not looking over the screen.” He teased. 

Despite his mind’s attempts at pushing away the feelings moving though his body, you still were affecting the dice greatly. The red in his face growing darker and darker with each press of your lips to his body. 

You spotted his flustered state, concern on your face. 

“Is everything alright?” You turned back to him, die still pressed against your lips. 

His eyes darted to your mouth, then to your eyes. 

“Uh, yeah.” He choked out. 

This was beginning to become unbearable. Then, of course you just had to do it. That one habit of yours that had him going absolutely insane. With just the smallest amount of teeth, you nibbled on the 19 side. Chance let out an audible groan as he felt your teeth graze the sweet spot in the crook of his neck. 

“You sure you’re good?” You pulled the die from your mouth, setting it on the table. Reaching for Chance, you placed a hand on his forehead. His skin felt extremely hot to the touch. 

“I-I’m fine! Really!” He brushed your hand away. 

“Your head is really hot. You sure you’re not sick?” Worry, furrowed your brow. 

“Us objects can’t get sick, heh.” He brushed you off again.

“If you say so…” You left it at that, returning to concentrating on your computer. 

The die was back to your mouth. 

No, no, no, not that side! Chance practically melted into a puddle as your lips pressed to his seven side. Feeling a soft warmth press right against his rock-hard crotch. 

Suddenly, the man shot up. The red still burning against his cheeks. You and the other objects gave him a concerned look. 

“Ah, um, if you’ll excuse me!” As nonchalantly as possible, he cupped his hands over his crotch, then shuffled off into whatever space he lived in, one that you had yet to see. 

In his little home, Chance rubbed a hand down his face with a groan. How much more of this would he be able to take? Sure, he managed when you didn’t know of his living existence. He was easily able to run off and take care of himself. Now, with you being able to see him, it was significantly more difficult to hide. However, admitting what you do to him? Oh, he absolutely could not handle the embarrassment that would bring you. 

For now, he would have to manage it the only way he knew how: jacking off when you weren’t looking. 

Sitting down with thud, Chance cupped himself over his pants. Giving himself a tight squeeze, he let out a satisfied moan. Pulling down his pants and boxers, his hard cock flopped out against his stomach. Gripping himself tightly, he began to pump at his length. His thumb brushing over the underside of his reddened tip. 

As he ran his fist up and down he thought about you. About your lips on him. Ones that he could still feel right now. You pressed the six side to your mouth. A kiss pressed against his thigh, making him moan. Then you slid the die to the seven, making his cock jump. Fuck. Precum beaded at the tip of his cock as he felt your lips on him. 

The mixture of your mouth and his hand would have him cumming in no time. 

Then, there it was again, your teeth nibbling on the die. This time on the 12 down his chest. As you moved the die along your lips, you pressed against his lower stomach. 

With you no longer being around, Chance let himself be loud. Moaning and praising your actions as you made him near his climax. Each pump of his cock emphasized the feeling of your mouth on his body. 

A final press of your lips to the seven was his undoing. His balls tightening, then long strands of cum bursting out of him. Coating his hand with warmth as he continued to overstimulate himself with more pumps. 

“Ah, ah, fuck. You feel so fucking good.” He moaned out. If only you knew…

As you sat unaware in your office, Mac snickered knowingly. Turning away from where Chance had run off to, you gave them a confused look.

“What’s so funny?” You asked.

“Oh nothing…” They trailed, eyes dropping to the die at your lips. 

“Doesn’t seem like nothing.” Your eyes narrowed. “Spill.” 

“Aww, but you’re so fun to tease.” Mac leaned their hands on their knees, cocking their head playfully.

Narrowing your eyes further, the computer conceded with a sigh. 

“You know we can feel you interacting with the objects, right? It’s not like I’ve gushed over your double-clicking or anything…”

“Yeah, I thought that was obvious.” You said, unsure of where this was going. 

Mac coughed into their hand, motioning at the object pressed against your mouth. Eyes widening, you removed the die. Placing it down and lifting up your hands as if it were something extremely delicate. 

“You mean…” You sucked in a harsh breath, eyes wide. “He, he felt…”

“Everything.” Mac finished for you. 

“Oh. Oh no.” Your eyes were filled with horror at the realization. 

“Eh, I wouldn’t worry about it.” Mac waved you off.

“Why shouldn't I worry? I’ve been mouthing at Chance without even knowing!” You groaned, making your head fall into your hands. 

“Why do you think he hasn’t told you?” Mac gave you a pointed look.

Peeking through your fingers, your eyes widened again. That’s right, he hadn’t ever told you. This wasn’t a habit of yours that just began, you had been doing it for years. Yet, Chance, not even once, had told you. 

“He likes it?” 

“I mean, all of us kinda do…” Mac trailed. “However, Chance has been one of the luckier ones you tend to play with.” 

“What am I supposed to do now that I know this?” You asked, voice cracking. 

Inside you were filled with a weird mixture of embarrassment and intrigue. On the one hand, you had literally been kissing and nibbling on Chance’s body this entire time. On the other hand, Chance had never said anything about it. Which could mean that he liked it, or he could be absolutely mortified about it. 

Thinking on it though, you remembered his state earlier. Red in the face and stuttering. It didn’t seem like the embarrassed kind. More like the flustered kind. Then there was the fact that he had run away. Run away while covering his crotch… Oh god… He liked it!

A lightbulb went off in your head, and a mischievous grin grew on your face. One that Mac caught. They quirked a brow, wondering where your head was at.

“Care to share your thoughts? You’re giving me that look you get when you come up with something new for a self-insert fic.” 

“Oh, I have some ideas…” You chuckled to yourself. 

Chance had always interested you. He was one of the very first items you came across when you first received the Dateviators. At first sight, you were pretty much smitten. The personified D20 charming you immediately. It didn’t help that he was quite the flirt, especially when he was in his GM mode. 

Having the knowledge that you were able to affect him in such a way, well that was a fun surprise to say the least. A surprise that you would be taking advantage of.

You glanced at the calendar on your computer, letting out an amused huff. In just two days, you would have your next session with Chance. A session that you will be enjoying greatly.

When Chance returned to the office, you had already left. While part of him was disappointed, another part of him let out a sigh of relief. He didn’t know if he could face you after what he had just done. Little did he know, you were about to make things worse for him. 

For the next two days you decided to make sure you were right about your suspicions regarding Chance. Continuing to play with his die by your lips whenever you were in the office. Testing out different ways to mess with your favorite D20. 

With each press of your lips to the die, you watched him out of your peripheral vision. Every time he felt your mouth on him, his face grew red and his breathing grew labored. He did his best to hold himself together, but found himself running off to take care of himself before things got too bad. If you continued to mouth him like that, he surely would cum in his pants. While his condition was certainly embarrassing, he could not be seen doing that. 

Every reaction you gained from him, you catalogued in your mind. Making sure you knew exactly what got him going. 

From your observations, you found that each side of his die resulted in a response from a different part of his body. You noted that the seven and eight elicited more intriguing results. 

Soon enough, the day of your next G&G session arrived. Across the table you sat with a smirk. Looking at you over his screen, Chance raised a questioning brow. 

“What are you looking so smug about?” He asked, fingers below his chin as he attempted to get a read on you.

“Oh nothing… I just know how I’m going to get my way this session.” You said, the smirk turning into a cheeky grin.

“Is that so?” 

“It very much is.” Your finger messed with his die on the table. 

You watched as he began to shuffle in his seat uncomfortably. Tracing around the six, you saw him shudder. The feeling of your finger stroking over his thigh, almost making him keen. He managed to hold himself back, a blush begging to bloom on his neck. 

“R-right, we’ll see about that.” He cleared his throat, trying to regain his composure. “Anyways, shall we begin?”

“We shall!” You gave him a soft smile, but it didn’t reach your eyes. Instead, something else swirled in your irises. Something that had Chance shivering. 

He cleared his throat again, then cracked his knuckles. Surely he could make it through his session, right?

  Very quickly, you proved him wrong. The die brought to your lips as you concentrated on Chance’s storytelling. 

“So, you’re currently fighting against a group of undead skeletons and a necromancer in the kingdom’s cemetery. Right now you are 17 health. It is your turn to go…”

As you looked over your character sheet, you pressed your lips to the die. An action that could be seen as wholly innocent, though the intentional placement of your lips was most certainly not. The 10 slid over your bottom lip, making Chance feel a kiss upon his lower belly. The feeling made him visibly shiver. 

“Hmmm…” You moved the die to the six side. His thigh received the warm caress of your lips. “I think I’ll pop a healing potion for now.” You set the die down. 

When you released your hold on the die, you swore you heard him sigh. This was torture for him. Blissful, sexy torture, but torture nonetheless. 

“Okay, roll your two D4 please.” 

You rolled the dice, earning you five points of health back. When you finished your roll, Chance’s D20 returned to your mouth. The man let out a huff at the feeling. 

Looking at him, you caught his gaze. Pupils blown out, mouth slightly hung open as if he was trying to catch his breath. Just a dusting of red on his cheeks as he held himself back. Catching your gaze, Chance was taken aback. There was a knowing look in your eyes. 

He watched as his die moved over your lips. Then, your fingers twisted it around. The seven side now pressed to them. Keeping eye contact, you added more pressure. Kissing the die deliberately. 

Chance let out a soft grunt, doing his best not to moan out as you mouthed at the die equivalent of his dick. Then, you were mean. Tongue lightly flicking out against the number.

There it was in your eyes, that mischievous, knowing look. One that had a smirk written on your face as you toyed with the die. 

You knew! You fucking knew! 

As if your tongue wasn’t enough, you moved the die again. This time nibbling on the 19. You watched with amusement at Chance lifted his neck to the feeling of your teeth scraping along his throat. Then, you set the die back down.

“Y-you,” Chance caught his breath, “you regain five points of health back.” He croaked. 

“Awesome. I’d like to use my bonus action to prepare to dodge.” You said, that smirk still on your lips.

“Of course.” He did his best to regain his composure. 

It was now the enemies’ turn, in more ways than one it seemed. 

“One of the skeletons is going to attack you with its longswoooord, oh!” Your tongue was back on the seven. “It, it-” His face had gone bright red now.

“It what?” You pulled back the die, a small strand of saliva breaking away as you did so.

“It hits!” He gasped out as your tongue returned. 

Why was he continuing to let this go on? He knew, oh he knew why. This was only something he could dream of. You knowingly teasing him. However, he knew it would become unbearable if he didn’t do something about it. 

“You didn’t roll though, how did it hit?” You played coy with another cheeky grin. 

“It just does.” He said through gritted teeth, eyes narrowing as you returned to pressing the die against your lips. 

“Does it, now?” You nipped at the five, the feeling of your teeth hitting the sensitive flesh of his inner thigh. 

“F-fuck. Yes it does!” He slammed his hands on the table, pushing himself up. 

As he lifted up, your eyes darted to the prominent bulge in his pants. The sight had your mouth watering. Oh, you could get used to this. Moving your gaze up, you shivered as you met Chance’s eyes. They were dark, filled with hunger. 

His hands gripped at the table harshly. Fingernails biting into the wood as he tried to keep himself composed. 

You didn’t stop messing with his die. Mouthing around various sides, just slightly avoiding the numbers that would stimulate his sex. A teasing smirk on your lips as you trailed the die along them. 

That darkness in his eyes grew as he let out an audible groan. How much more could he take before he snapped? By now he had to be close to his boiling point. With his shivering body and labored breathing, he would crack soon. 

Staring straight into his eyes, you flicked your tongue out on the seven. There it was, a spark of something even deeper in Chance’s eyes. Want. 

With what little composure he had, Chance marched over to you. Your eyes trailed to his chest as you watched him inhale and release harsh breaths. 

Giving him an innocent bat of your lashes, you looked up at him with a confused stare. Cocking your head to the side as you read the frustration on his face. 

“Is something wrong?” You asked sweetly, pressing the die to your lips. 

“Get up.” It wasn’t a question, it was a command. 

“Why should I?” You decided to tease, see how far you could really push him. 

“Because I’m not asking.” He placed a hand on the back of your chair, leaning his large frame over your body. 

“Maybe you should.” You kissed the six of the die. “It’s polite.” 

“Get up. Or I will make you.” 

Oh. Well that was certainly new. Something that you were very interested in. 

“As you wish.”

He moved away, letting you stand up. As soon as you were on your feet, the man walked you back. Pressing you against your office wall, making you let out a sharp gasp. 

“What’s this all about?” You cocked your head with a coy smile. 

“You and I know very well what ‘this’ is about.” He practically spat. 

He was now nose to nose with you. Hot breaths fanning your face as he pinned you to the wall. 

“What exactly am I supposed to ‘know’, Chance?”

The die in your hand returned to your lips. You gave it a little nip, watching with amusement as his eyes scrunched shut with a groan. Opening them, you were met with that deep look of want once more. It had you shivering. 

“Care if I show you?” He asked lowly. 

“Be my guest.” You feigned an air of confidence, but couldn’t help the slight waver in your voice. His dominating presence had you squirming. 

Slowly, he leaned towards you. Lips puckered to kiss you. Fluttering your eyes shut, you leaned in. Only a low chuckle met you. Instead, Chance’s head turned to kiss up your jaw and down your neck. The featherlight kisses had you letting out soft whines. 

When his mouth reached the crook of your neck, he gave you a soft bite. The feeling had you yelping, making Chance bite you again. This time, lightly scraping his teeth up your neck. 

When he pulled away, he appraised his work. Dark marks now forming around your pulse point and sweet spots along the column of your throat. His thumb lightly brushed over one of the bruises as he let out a satisfied huff. 

“Now, do you know what I’m talking about?” He leaned toward you with an amused hum. Loving the way you squirmed from his close proximity. 

But he couldn’t win that easily. 

“No, I don’t know.” You grinned at him, eyes sparkling teasingly. 

Gritting his teeth, he grabbed your wrist. Holding up the hand that held his die in front of your face. 

“Don’t try to play coy. I know you know.” 

“You still have yet to tell me what I ‘know’, exactly.” You teased. 

“Fine.” He let out a harsh breath. “I can play this game too, you know?” He released your hand. 

His own warm hands slid up your body. Softly caressing you. Leaning in, he whispered into your ear. 

“Tell me to stop, and I will. But if you want me to keep going…well…” He chuckled darkly. “You’ll see.” 

“I won’t stop you.” You cocked your head to the side giving him a challenging stare. 

With the dice in your hand you brought it to your lips, giving it a kiss on the seven side. You watched Chance shudder and groan at the feeling. 

Suddenly, your hand was pinned to the wall. 

“Do that again, see what happens.” He hissed through gritted teeth. 

With surprising strength, Chance flipped you around. Shoving your chest into the wall. From behind, you felt him press against your body. The outline of his hard cock pushed against your ass. 

“Do you feel what you do to me?” He breathed against your ear. “Do you know what it’s like?” He groaned, grinding himself against you. 

“Know what, what’s like?” You asked quietly. 

“What it’s like,” his hand slid down your torso and teased over your pants, “to be touched, but you can’t do anything about it.” 

Gasping, you tried to cross your legs as he cupped over your sex. With his thigh, he pushed your legs apart. He tsked you with a click of his tongue. 

“Nuh uh, you’re not running away from this.” His hand returned to playing with you over your pants. “After all, I couldn’t run away from you.” 

“B-but you did. You always left the room.” You looked at him over your shoulder, shivering at the lustful gaze deep in his eyes. 

“I certainly tried. But I couldn’t really escape you. Not your lips, not your kisses, your tongue, the biting.” He emphasized the final word with a bite to your shoulder. 

“Ah, mmph!” You moaned as his hand continued to cup over you. Teasing you with light strokes and squeezes. 

As he continued to touch you, you felt yourself growing more and more aroused. Needing some type of friction to assist you. However, Chance didn’t appear to care all too much. Enjoying the sounds of your whimpers and moans as you helplessly took what he gave you. 

Pulling his hand back, you let out a whine. From behind you heard the shuffling of his pants. Chance let them hit the floor. Looking over your shoulder you moaned at the sight. 

Chance stood there, his cock out and standing proud. His length, thick and delicious looking. Fuck, you needed it. 

For a moment, Chance watched you. His hand wrapped around his cock, slowly pumping away. Beads of precum dripping down the shaft. The amused smirk on his face indicated how much he enjoyed watching you squirm. 

“Chance…” You let out a groan. 

“Yes?” His voice held a teasing lilt. 

“Please…”

“Please what? Use your words.” 

“Please just do something!” You whined, dropping your head in exasperation. 

“I am doing something.” He groaned, gripping his dick tighter and pumping faster. 

“You know what I mean!” You huffed in frustration. 

“Do I? You didn’t seem to understand what I was telling you earlier.” He stopped touching himself. 

Pressing his body against yours, he spoke into your ear. 

“So tell me,” he purred, “What. Do. You. Know?” You felt his cock press into your backside. 

“I know! I know that you can feel what happens to your die!” The time for teasing was over, you needed him, NOW. 

“Was that so hard?” He chuckled, placing a soft kiss under your ear. 

Quickly, Chance pulled down your pants and underwear. Warm hands grabbed at the swell of your ass, giving it a squeeze. One of his hands trailed between your legs, cupping your bare sex. The action had you jolting. Every part of your being was on fire from his teasing. Buzzing with an ever growing energy that you wished to dispel. 

Pushing between your legs, you felt Chance’s thick cock. He groaned at the feel of your plush thighs squeezing around his length. The head of his cock brushed up against your awaiting hole, but he didn’t push in. No, instead he continued to fuck your thighs. Gripping them tightly as he thrust in and out. His cock just barely teasing your sex as it brushed past. You whined at the lack of friction, but the man behind you didn’t let up. 

He moaned as he continued to fuck between your legs. Occasionally teasing your hole, but never entering you. A smug smirk on his face as you looked over your shoulder with a glare. 

“Chance, please!” You cried out as he brushed up against your most sensitive parts. “I can’t take it. Please just fuck me!”

“No.” He said lowly as he continued to pummel himself between your legs. 

He leaned over your shoulder, biting into it again. 

“You’re gonna take me like a good little slut. Since you like teasing me like one. So, no whining or complaining.” He growled into your ear before nipping it lightly. 

“I can’t take it!” You felt tears of desperation prick at your eyes. 

“Yes you can.” He moaned, feeling his climax grow nearer. 

“N-no! It’s too much! Please!” Your whimpers only spurred him on. 

Forcing your hips back he fucked between your thighs over and over. Cock brushing up to your hole for the barest amount of friction. 

With a final pump, he let out the lewdest moan. Cock spraying out ropes of cum, painting your thighs white. His arms wrapped around your middle as he shook with the aftershocks of his orgasm. 

His lips pressed soft wet kisses up your throat. Warm hands caressed at your sides. 

Slipping out of your thighs, he groaned lowly. Turning around, you saw the man red in the face. His chest heaving with labored breaths. Despite his tired state, he gave you a smirk. 

He pulled up his pants and walked up to you. Gripping your chin, he brought your face to his. Softly, he pecked your lips. Giving you just a taste of him. He let you go, then turned to walk away. Throwing a cheeky grin over his shoulder, he spoke. 

“Now you know how it feels.”