#my brain cells are like gift cards where you can only use them for like one specific thing at any given time

[runfreebirdrun]

got any funny weed stories?

Rissa, all I am is funny weed stories.

Let me give you the classic, though, the most well-known: the Build-A-Bear story.

My buddy's dad used to make these insane pot brownies that my buddy calls "sotweeds." Normally, to make pot brownies, you put some pot in the butter and mix a little of that with normal butter, bake, enjoy. His dad, being a middle-aged gnomish sort of man with a goatee, had insane tolerance: sotweeds were *100%* pot butter. They were cut into strange little asymmetrical pieces rather than squares for no good reason. His dad would make like 50 of these at a time and store them in his freezer.

So, once, when we were younger and not-too-much dumber, my buddy stole a bunch of the chunks and we took (too many) gleefully outside an aquarium. The fun thing about the Cubist approach his dad took to cutting the signature brownies meant that the THC content of whatever chunk you just took was between you and God. Any given chunk could be either mostly chocolate chip, or the type of shit to make you see the hat man. This time, we rolled the dice and got snake eyes.

The aquarium was great. The shark tunnel was beautiful, and I made eye contact with a sea bass. An anemone hugged my fingers in the petting pool and I felt connected to the world in a new sense. And then, I pulled the fire alarm in the elevator.

It was an accident — I just leaned on the side of the elevator for a second, but as it turned out, that's how you press the alarm button. My friends and I made frightened eye contact and decided instantly: we had to flee the scene. We were wanted criminals, now, and nothing would ever be the same.

So we hike our asses out through the gift shop and in the bright light of the afternoon we stand looking down the steep staircase from the aquarium and right then, the edible hits.

We'd spent an hour and a half in the aquarium. The average pot brownie hits about forty minutes in, and lasts for a couple of hours. My last un-fried brain cells did the math: if it was still hitting *now,* we were only going to get higher.

Have you ever played a multiplayer video game on a really, really, poor connection, Rissa? I was rubber-banding. My ping was low. As I walked carefully down these stairs, I could feel the frames drop.

We descend into the nightmarish tourist trap neighborhood around the aquarium, and the least high of us goes and buys some too-salty fries to take the edge off. I sit on a bench and wonder: will I ever think again?

The only way out is through. My buddy suggests that we need some child-like whimsy to set us right. We go to Build-A-Bear, for the first time in my life.

You have to understand: I'm clutching my debit card in my hands the whole time because I don't trust myself to operate a zipper when we get to the cash register. At one point, I think I actually teleported across the room. I can see through walls. I can see new colors.

The heart ceremony? I felt that shit. You try being that high and told by an over-enthusiastic Build-A-Bear employee that you're sewing the soul into this animal you've adopted. I reveled in the joy of divine creation.

We get to the bit where you name your Build-A-Bear, and I decide the funniest possible name for this stuffed dinosaur is, all caps, "SPECIES." My weed-addled fingers typo, and I decide not to fix it. We get to the register, and I am not kidding you: 137 fiscal US dollars.

I teleport home by a method unknown to me to this day. I pass out instantly, and wake up, $137 poorer, to a red dinosaur Build-A-Bear wearing a promotional "I <3 Crabs" shirt, a full brown wig for a woman, and a Build-A-Bear birth certificate. Name: SPRCIES.

Her birthday's coming up.

[notmuchtoconceal]

my ex-collaborator was one of my best friends. realistically, though. i can only stay best friends with someone i'm actively working on something with. i suppose he was less afraid of being abandoned than he was in being demoted to number two, which i'm not sympathetic to.

he touched every area of my art and soul, and once he started to mutilate me for reasons i couldn't understand, it hurt me deeply. i thought about him a great deal, even though the consequences of dwelling on the human equivalent of a black whole who crushes all light had obvious and escalating consequences to my mind, body and soul. i could have easily thrown him away and slipped into a shallow clique where i effortlessly dominated normies with my presence and my magnetism and my smell. i could have blocked him out in seconds. cleared the hard disc.

that's not who i am, though. i became what i was because i knew what i was, and i acted on impulses secret and unknown, but which i knew would guide me to the truth. i live for the truth, and i struggle daily and have struggled for years to understand why men value lies, my own lies i always understood ... by which i mean fantasies, projections, reframings ... never outright distortions of material truth ... were always enigmas to be unwrapped like gifts or knots or labyrinths, and i suppose i was always sympathetic on some level to the delusions of other men (though i detested their gullibility, their ease of parasitization) for i understood they were somewhere else, and these delusions, these fantasies, were mutually keeping me from them as them from truth.

i would never say the good times weren't real. i would never say he didn't mean something to me. i know he's a resentful piece of shit who would manipulate any good will i offered him, which is why i'm offering him none. in some ways, i used to see him as a teacher. i loved him.

he could fuckin deal with the fact that i had, have, and always would have had a life before, during and after him. holy fuck. no, man.

he's a stunted child. he's a stunted child in the exact same way your father is a stunted child. that's why you were drawn to men like him. you hadn't figured it out yet. you being raised by a stunted child, of course, also made you a stunted child, but uh... realistically, man? you're stunted in different ways. you'd made leaps and bounds in areas he could never achieve and he tried to transfer his negative karma onto you like credit card debt cause he's a fuckin business witch. (it's totally okay to tell him that he raped you. it's funny cause it's true.) american culture prioritizes and values bullshitting your way through social situations cause most americans are stunted in some fairly considerable regard and desperate to keep it hidden. you admired how thrifty and how mobile he was, but you could see clearly -- he had sub-autistic levels of emotional awareness (no offense to any of my autistic friends reading, i think your minds are beautiful) which is why his brain was worm-eaten with mommy demons. operant conditioning and repetition. punishment-induced, church-like trance behavior holding the traumatized mass together like clamps.

behavior like this is an exceptionally common american problem. generational neglect would seem to compound with an escalating commitment to a parasitic work culture demanding more and more time at the expense of family. this is the simple truth of the reactionary claims about the attack on the nuclear family. it's a direct assault on first causes to cripple the organism. it's like draining all the cytoplasm out of each individual cell until the entire body withers and putresces while alive.

zombie. zombie. zombie.

am i making it clear enough for you yet, bro?

Jennette McCurdy, I'm Glad My Mom Died

[prider-parker-imaginations]

me: i’ve got a lot of work to do so probably no new stuff this week

also me: time to write a vaguely spicy zemo fic until 4am because my brain allowed me a single brain cell for this and this alone

[diavolosthots]

Felt like crying, so I came to you, my friend! Mc and Mammon went out shopping, specifically to buy gifts for his brothers, as an apology. When they get back home they are met with hostility. They berate Mammon until Mc screams at them to shut up, then rips into each of them for their treatment of Mammon. Then finishes with "Don't expect Mammon to stay here when he can live with me in the humanworld. I'm done with you. Mammon, lets go, you deserve better, love" and leaves w/ Mammon. Thank you!

You came to me because you felt like crying and that gives me two (2) things to think about. 1.) I'm apparently someone who people see as a tissue? 2.) My angst is just THAT good. Also! Apparently today is rain on Mammon day and I'm here for it not me avoiding my exam to write these things

Warning: uh.... Angst?

Soul-Searching (MAMMON X GN!READER ft. THE BROTHERS)

“You know, I’m proud of you for suggesting this.” Truly, you were. Mammon was your favorite and you felt for him, but you also completely understood where his brothers came from. At first, it honestly annoyed you as well; the constant stealing, the lying… You tried blaming it on his avatar, but even then it doesn’t explain the lying that comes with it. However, you do realize that it’s a habit and it’s a habit that is hard to fix, so instead of constantly getting onto him like the rest, you tried to understand him a bit more and give him some life advice. So far, you have managed to get Mammon to give back all the things he has recently taken from his brothers, and some of them even got an apology. You’ll be working on how to properly apologize, though, because oof, that was a mess. 

And now? Now you managed to take a small trip with him downtown to at least attempt to make things better. Mammon is now, or at least today, using his own money to buy some things that his brothers would be fond of: a new vinyl player for Lucifer (non-cursed), a new Ruri-chan t-shirt for Leviathan, a neck pillow for Satan because lord knows he has some cramps back there with the way he leans over and down to read his books. Then some perfume for Asmodeus that he had been swooning about, a gift card to Beel’s favorite restaurant for the glutton, and a heated blanket for Belphie. You were proud, truly, that Mammon wanted to do this. As a matter of fact, he was the one who suggested it. “Maybe… uh.. I could… ya know… buy somethin’ they like” is what he said. You were just excited and agreed to help. 

Now you were going back to the house with a few shopping bags and ice cream almost fully eaten. You paid for the ice cream, as a way to reward Mammon, and you’re sure he’s secretly thanking you for that because some of these items truly did burn a hole into his credit card, which is partially his fault. “Lucifer deserves more than some random vinyl player.” his words, not yours. Also “satan needs one of them neck pillows that massage it, too!” again, his words. So yeah, some money was definitely spent on these items, but… once again, you were proud. “I think they’ll love everything, Mam. They’d be fools if they didn’t.” Hearing you say that made Mammon feel a lot better, honestly, and a small rush of confidence came to the surface “Ya betcha they will! Nothin’ but the best from the Great Mammon!” You just laughed. 

However, upon arrival, it was a different sight. As a matter of fact, you barely made it through the door before Beel was grumbling something about Mammon eating his custard, which is true, but it’s just a custard? “MAAMMMOONNN!!” and then there was Lucifer who appeared so fast you wondered if he was even real. He went on a whole rant about how irresponsible Mammon is and how another bill came in the mail that talks about Mammon’s debt. Satan and Belphegor teamed up to show empty hands, which left both you and Mammon confused, but then “do you see anything here? No? That’s because you sold our belongings, Mammon!” Mammon can be lucky that Leviathan was still holed up in his room because he just remembered that he also, at some point in the past, sold one of Levi’s figures. Asmodeus came last and honestly he wasn’t mad, he was just annoyed. “I saw you go through my things, Mammon. Nothing was taken, but it was still so incredibly rude!” 

Next followed a screaming match which was basically just Mammon trying to defend himself, trying to show the bags and apologize, but none of them would have it. It irritated you. Yes, they had every right to be mad because personal belongings should stay with their owner(s), but at the same time, they didn’t even give Mammon a chance to explain, especially after he’s been holding the bags up and attempting to apologize. “You’re so stupid, Mammon” “StupidMammon” “so irresponsible. You know better than that. Do you need another time out session, Mammon?” “I can’t believe you’d go through my stuff again!” by now your eyes were twitching and the voices echoing off the walls surely didn’t help your case. One more word and you’d snap, surely, especially since Mammon’s hand is now shaking and you grabbing it did nothing at all. “We would be better off without you.”

Ah yes, there it is. The final straw. The amount of anger boiling inside you right now isn’t even manageable anymore and you’re surprised that Satan, as the Avatar of Wrath, has yet to notice it. “Shut up! Shut up, Shut up, Shut up! All of you!” You yanked Mammon behind you, almost protectively and Belphegor found the need to laugh at it. “Really? You’re going to protect him?” Oh, there. That’s your first victim. “Are you really that dense, Belphegor, or is sleep still clouding your brain cells? That is your brother you’re currently making fun of and I don’t know about you, but I was taught that family sticks together, blood related or by choice. So how about you get your head out of dreamland, take this stupid heated blanket that he bought for you, as an apology, and wake up for a second.” yes, you did throw the bag at him and then you pointed your finger at Beel. You’d regret later on that you’re tearing into him as well because Beel means well at the end of the day, but still, he was also part of this. 

“You’re my least worry, Beel. Honestly you’re too caught up in your burgers and brawns to care for a second that your brother tries very hard to be liked by all of you. Sad, really.” you threw the card at him too. As a matter of fact, you threw all of the bags right in front of them. “And then Asmo.. oh my God, first of all, the world doesn’t revolve around you. Shocker, I know. If you were half as empathetic toward your family as you are obsessed with yourself, maybe you wouldn’t feel the need to always go party and drink your life away. Oh, I’m sorry, did that hit just a little too hard? Can’t be harder than the hangovers you wake up with on a regular basis.” You glared at him before turning your attention to Satan. “Honestly, if you weren’t such a baby inside I may actually be scared of you. You always complain about how stupid he is, how he needs to just learn, but you? What do you do all day? You hole yourself up in your room and read about worlds that you wish you could enter. News flash: you’d die before you had the chance to say hello. People don’t like self-proclaimed assholes. Mammon IS smart. He’s very talented, too, but you’re too far up in Shakespeare’s ass that you fail to realize that everyone has knowledge in different fields of life. Give me a break.” 

Satan was about to retort but you already moved on to Levi. “and you! Let’s be honest, if it weren’t for you wallowing in self-pity and fake depression, you would have absolutely no personality traits. What are you again? The Avatar of Envy? How about instead of being envious of others’ accomplishments, you actually start working on yourself. It’s truly pathetic that a couple millenia old demon’s only purpose in life is ramen and self inflicted emotional pain. Seriously, what are you? A pitiful loner? I can’t even begin to empathize with you in any way, shape, or form.” Your blood was boiling right now and maybe if they hadn’t attacked Mammon like they did, you would’ve felt bad about Levi’s sad face right now, but there was still one person left to deal with.”

“And you… beautiful, responsible, way-too-good-for-you older brother, Lucifer.” He’s been glaring at you this whole time, arms crossed over his chest but you stood your ground. You’re not quite sure how you managed, but you did. “You call yourself the best, the most responsible. You constantly say this family would fall apart without you, but that’s not it, is it? I think you’re just lonely. You force these six to be by you, to respect you and borderline worship you. Not because you deserve it…” you chuckled, shaking your head, “no. You’re just so sad that Daddy and Michael left you, mocked you, that you turned your sadness into anger and took it out on these six, but especially Mammon. Why? Because you see yourself in him. You call him your favorite brother, but it’s not because he actually is… he just reminds you of everything you used to be: fun, reckless, and feeling. Now you’re just cold, mean, and bitter. Don’t bother calling yourself the mighty first because without him you would be neither. Maybe if you pulled that stick out of your arse and actually tried to get to know your brothers, maybe you wouldn’t be so lonely all the time. Family, right? That’s what you want. How about you start acting like one.” 

You shook your head after that, grabbing Mammon’s hand and kicking the bags in front of you before dragging Mammon back out the door. “Those are for you, by the way. Not that you deserve them, but they’re Mammon’s way of apologizing for all the things you accused him of the minute he set foot into the house. Have fun. We’re going to the castle and, if we’re lucky, to a real home.” 

[sukirichi]

jujutsu kaisen characters as students in high school: (non-canon AU)

featuring: itadori yuuji, fushiguro megumi, gojo satoru, getou suguru, & ryoumen sukuna notes: some parts include you as their friend, or even their high school love! (this is unedited/ not proofread)

masterlist ! requests are open 

𝐈𝐓𝐀𝐃𝐎𝐑𝐈 𝐘𝐔𝐔𝐉𝐈

he’s not the brightest bulb, but he makes up for it through hardwork and enthusiasm

yuuji is literally that classmate everyone is just friends with

the type who waves with a smile, saying “good morning!” the moment he walks through that door

with that being said, since he’s everyone’s friend, i headcannon that yuuji doesn’t really have a best friend because he’s so open and available to everyone it’s hard to have just a one on one conversation with him

not to say he’s always surrounded by a crowd that you can’t get near him, but everyone likes talking to yuuji

he just fits in so well and understands people 

kind of like how he easily clicked with junpei (please, i miss him, i still can’t believe that he’s...you know...)

whether it’s the guys raving to him about sports

or girls shyly talking about their crush on class or about that new shojo manga

yuuji is open to anything and everyone. this boy wears his heart on his sleeve and he’s honestly such a precious boy, please be kind to him <3

the type of student that gets called to answer in class but isn’t shy to admit he doesn’t know the answer while rubbing the back of his neck

he does pay attention tho

i think it’s canon that yuuji is a dedicated man, like from that time he just watched movies straight and kept his cursed energy controlled so the cursed corpse would stop hitting him

overall, yuuji is a very hard working student! 

he wouldn’t get over the top grades, but he’s really proud of himself (and he should be!)

also that one kid in class that is surprisingly good in sports despite his lanky figure and laid back persona, because all the other sports-craved people are always flexing or challenging other captains 

but plot twist, this boy is ripped and very, beautifully kept in trim

yeah he’s not really into club activities that much

not because he hates them, but he’s just not that into it. he’s more than glad to join in whatever activities though and enjoys them, but if asked what he’d like to do, it wouldn’t be that first thing that came to mind

in conclusion: itadori yuuji is the class sunflower that lights up everyone’s day  🌻

yuuji’s role: the hard worker! 

𝐅𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐎 𝐌𝐄𝐆𝐔𝐌𝐈

hands down, megumi is THAT student

if you’re volunteering in the library, you can sure as hell guarantee you’ll see megumi there

he doesn’t like studying in class because it’s too noisy, so if he’s in school, you’ll always see his name in the library logs

he’s that kid that aces all exams

the type to scowl when he sees a 96% mark because he’s expecting a perfect mark

okay before you come at me, i’m not saying megumi is that annoying smart kid in class that goes, “Oh, I’m so dumb, just a 96?”

no he’s more frustrated at himself because he knows he studied hard and lost sleep over it. he’s just wondering where he went wrong. he has literal note cards and customize flash cards on an app on his phone, waking up every four am and probably taking supplement classes after regular school hours

i headcannon that megumi is someone who always wants to do his best and actually goes through lengths to prove his worth

maybe it stems from having the need to show who he really is and what he’s capable of

but yeah i can totally see him doing that

also that cute student that keeps visiting the cafe every saturday morning, wearing a black hoodie and headphones tucked in, his pretty hands nestling over a book

he looks like a gamer but honestly i don’t think he’s got time for that lmao

would also be that guy people find hard to approach because of his quiet and reserved self

he’s pretty intimidating too

definitely sits beside the window at the back of the class. you can’t fight me on that

just because he’s smart and loves studying, it doesn’t mean he’ll sit on the front row and raise his hand every damn second

the teachers will encourage him to participate in class a little bit more, especially after seeing he’s awkward during group activities, but megumi just really prefers to do things by himself

i also headcannon him eating in the cafeteria like everyone else instead of having his alone time during a rooftop? like idk i can’t picture megumi completely isolating himself like that

he blends in well in a way that you know he’s just like everyone else; a human

but he also stands out in the manner that he’s a lot more introverted and reserved compared to everyone else

surprisingly good during sports and relay games

100% reliable

the type to stay up at midnight to finish a group project, sighing because his groupmates doesn’t care as much as he does, but turns it in anyway the next day

he’d be annoyed at them, but he doesn’t really like confrontation so he doesn’t out them to the teacher like that

but he’s also not someone who lets people walk over him, so he’ll simply say something about his groupmates becoming more responsible and to be serious for once as a “warning”

and yeah, he may be closed off, but once you get really close with him (even better if you have similar interests) you’ll find there’s a lot more to him than what you’ve originally seen and he’s actually a pretty great friend and supportive classmate

would teach you instead of just letting you copy his work or snap pictures of his notes

ugh he’s so responsible and morally right and that’s so attractive help

in conclusion: fushiguro megumi is the hidden gem  💎

megumi’s role: the intellectual outsider!

𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔

man...i don’t know how to start this

i’ve said this about megumi, but gojo is also that student

no, in fact, he’s THE student

everyone loves him. literally everyone

the teachers? smitten

his classmates? in love

the school guard? calls him by his first name

the cleaning lady? turns into a star with the way she lightens up when he’s there

the cafeteria staff? yeah free food because he’s gojo satoru

gojo is what i like to call the “one who has it all” because....well, he kind of does

he’s really smart and talented, which comes as a surprise to everyone in the first day of school when he nearly gets kicked out for falling asleep in class

only for everyone to be shocked that he knows the answer already and the teacher is only discussing chapter 1 lmao

yeah he’d be that kid who always sleeps in class

or is playing games on his phone behind an open textbook

he literally doesn’t listen to what the teacher is saying at all - or at least that’s what he wants you to think

man is a god at multitasking and his seatmate would snicker because he’s crushing his enemies at a phone game, but then gojo coolly corrects the teacher about history or something

he’s pretty laid back tbh

but when he’s got everyone’s attention on him? ofc he’d show off

basketball meats are wild. even students from neighbouring schools would visit just to see gojo play - and he’s not even an official member! the coach just asked him to replace a sick player but boy won that champion shot

omg BASKETBALL PLAYER GOJO I CAN’T

but he pretty much excels at everything

except cooking class, gosh, don’t ever bring this man anywhere near a fire. that’s probably the only thing that really got him to detention this time because he always somehow talks himself out of getting that red card with his words and charm

also that kid that would receive lots of confession letters, chocolates, and random gifts in his shoe lockers

he knows he’s handsome and he’s not shy about it. in fact, he’s shameless when it comes to his allure on people

but he also doesn’t really date anyone (it’s canon this man won’t stay loyal to a single woman lmao)

if he and megumi were classmates, they’d be sort of rivals

megumi would always come on top of class, but gojo is just a breath away from the former’s perfect marks. if it only weren’t for megumi’s squeaky clean record and reputation - whereas satoru’s is TAINTED as heck - and the fact that gojo doesn’t really study as much as gumi, then yeah he’d also be top of the class if he wanted to

on a much more serious note,,,gojo acts like nothing really bothers him and he’s simply that effortless

but i feel like he grew up with tutors from a very young age and that’s how his natural intelligence was just further improved and increased with that type of environment in his childhood

and unlike megumi, i don’t think gojo would really have a set goal in mind on who he wants to be or what he wants to do in the future

he’d just be enjoying the moment <3

in conclusion: gojo satoru is the effortless god!

satoru’s role: the lazy king everyone is envious of 

𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐎𝐔 𝐒𝐔𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐔

the playboy

you can’t argue with me on this one

he just is, i feel it deep in my SOUL he just is

moment he walks in, all classy and suave aura and all, you can honestly smell and taste the amount of confidence that drips from him

probably came from a well-off family

probably the mayor’s kid lmao and he’s been used to the attention ever since he was young

much like megumi, he’s not really the type to show off his intelligence

and similar to gojo, people are surprised he’s actually got them brain cells just because everyone is more focused on his appearance first

like who would expect this tall hunk beautiful beast of a man with long hair and piercings actually liked classic novels and could effortlessly recite sonatas and poems in different languages

yeah i headcannon that getou is an intellectual, cultured man

ofc having long hair and piercings isn’t allowed in his school, but because he’s geto and the school knows about his family’s influence, they just let it slide

probably comes late to school too

he eats in the cafeteria, but you don’t really see him indulge much. some days, he’ll have his own fancy bento box prepared by a family chef, but geto is actually pretty simple and humble that he also buys packed bread or canned coffee 

takes the library volunteer by surprise when he drops by one friday after class to borrow an old classic novel that even your professors had a hard time analysing

but geto’s like, “oh this? yeah i last read it when i was thirteen, thought i’d read it again”

IDK WHY but I can see him as sort of breaking the rules when it comes to the school uniform

top three buttons of his shirt open when he’s feeling hot or something

doesn’t really keep his tie that tight too

but overall, geto is a composed and well-put together guy

i just can’t picture him slacking when it comes to his appearance, he’s too fancy and pretty for that

he’s also similar to megumi in a way people find it hard to approach them, but most definitely, geto also receives confessions often 

i can see him dating someone after being interested in someone in school and actually being serious with them unlike gojo

then they would be “that” couple that’re just so couple goals

not the type that goes overboard with pda and pulls off the angry face emoji when they hear someone talking about them and they’re like, “NO HE’S MINE”

okay that’s cringe but i legit witnessed that way too many times in high school yall cant blame me lmao

but they’d be more like the chill laid back couple that supports each other in everything and you can just tell they have a happy, healthy relationship

(oh to be getou’s girlfriend in high school and his first love and all his firsts)

in conclusion: getou suguru is the unpredictable!

getou’s role is: that one classmate you really admire but he’s so far out your league but he’s genuinely a good guy anyway so you’re happy for him no matter what <3

𝐑𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐌𝐄𝐍 𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐔𝐍𝐀

okay okay hear me out but...the stoner

i really can’t see him any other way guyssss

and if you’re his classmate, you most likely wouldn’t see him that much either

dude is like 2-3 years older than everyone in class and he doesn’t give a shit about it

he’ll come like...once a week, if he’s in the mood enough

teachers don’t even bother scolding him for his tattoos anymore because there’s rumours going around he’s the son of a yakuza leader or that he’s a gangster who sells organs or some creepy dark stuff

ofc he doesn’t do that

he just does drugs and gets drunk at most

sukuna doesn’t really have that much friends either. yeah he parties with people and often gets high with some older kids, but he doesn’t genuinely enjoy their companies either

would totally come to school with his uniform unironed

red-eyed from his high and naps at the back of the class, making the teacher soften their voice in fear of waking him up

also doesn’t have a pen or paper

i mean...he doesn’t even bring a bag

fails the exams all the time, making him repeat year by year, and he’s even known for beating his senpai up for something stupid and sending the guy to a hospital where he stays for two weeks

but on the other hand

he’s also freakishly attractive and surprisingly easy to talk to

you probably bumped into him one time and you profusely apologize, but then he notices something about, something odd like, “did you just cut your hair?”

“uhm yes...you noticed?”

sukuna shrugs lazily, “noticed something was different, but whatever. it looks good on you though.”

he’s just soooo nonchalant most of the time, it’s hard to believe he’s actually pretty violent

but yeah this man has anger issues i’m sorry

but with that speaking, i actually don’t see sukuna as a bully with like a gang of his “followers” or that type of jazz

he’s more like the kid that hides under the bleachers or gets high in a storage room while everyone else is occupied with school festivals

it’s a shock he even came, but sukuna just says “free food is always a gift” but ofc it’s not free food...he just steals from the stalls

now here comes the fun part

so now that we know sukuna pretty much is a hopeless case...suddenly, he isn’t? maybe he meets you, the class volunteer who goes out of their way to visit his shabby apartment just to hand him his class work that he’s missed out on

he obviously disses you at first and ignores you, telling you to get lost

but somehow your kindness and persistence has him breaking

now he starts coming to school often, carrying a pack of gum or mint pops because he smells like weed and he’s slightly conscious of himself

this is supposed to be just them being students in high school, but i could honestly sukuna changing colors once he just gets a better grasp of what would be good for him

or maybe something finally interests him and gives answers to his silent questions

i feel like he’s such a troubled kid and just lacks proper care and attention, but once you become his friend and show him you don’t have bad intentions, he’s actually a loyal and decent guy

and when you two finally get close, you eventually gain enough courage to tutor him. sukuna is actually pretty smart too, he just doesn’t like studying, but when you compliment him, oh man, he melts

“yeah, you actually got that right! i told you you could do this!”

tsk,” he scoffs, “that’s all kindergarten shit.”

“if it is, then why haven’t you graduated?”

“shut the fuck up.”

although he sneers, you and sukuna have gotten close enough that you know both of you don’t mean anything bad behind those words and it’s all light hearted teasing

oh and when you ask him to take a picture with you for “high school memories?”

sukuna is disgusted

“get that thing away from my face - did you just take my photo?”

“yeah, you look pretty cute here! i’m so printing this and putting this in my album.”

sukuna is about to scold you even more, but the thought of you putting your photo together - even when he’s frowning in the picture - in something as sentimental as a photo book really has him softening up

would even try - keyword is try - to study more just so you’d stop frowning when you see his paper covered in red marks all over again

and he’d even try cutting down on his weed for the sake of his “health”

ofc he won’t suddenly - or ever, even - become the amazing student megumi is

he’ll still get into trouble because he’s impulsive and has poor coping skills, also he’s not good with words or dealing with his emotions

but on his good days, he’s a pretty funny guy

it just takes a lot to see that side of him, but it’s worth the time and patience

also i was expecting to write funny scenarios or imagines of stoner! sukuna because he’s too high to even hold a proper conversation sometimes but all i got is him saying weird words like “snail trap” or something when you ask him how his day is

would also have that garbled little laugh when he’s so out of it

sukuna will try to be better though, you just need to be patient him

but my GOSH when he finally graduates

he’s going to hide that little smile because deep down, he’s also pretty proud of himself and how far he’s come <3

lol now this makes me want to writer a high school au lololol

in conclusion: yeah he’s the stoner with a good heart 

which is so not canon...this shouldn’t even be a headcanon we know ryoumen sukuna is PURE EVIL but oh well maybe when I’m down from my sukuna high I’ll write him a lot more canonically

[justreadingfics]

Best Gift Ever - an “It’s a Deal” one-shot

Summary: It’s almost time for your first Christmas with Bucky and he really wants you to open his present for you early.  

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Words: 4.5k

Warnings: one-shot part of a complete series’ universe, smut, 18+, masturbation, use of sex toy, dirty talk, praise kink, the characters celebrate Christmas.

A/N: I miss these two too much, so here’s our first one-shot to see what they’re up to these days… and what they’re up to is a surprise to absolutely no one who knows them, lol. You can read it as a stand-alone story, but this is part of the universe of a series of mine (It’s a Deal). I have no words that can thank @callmeluna​, @addikted-2-dopamine​, @gogolucky13​ and @whisperlullaby​ enough for jumping right in to help me when I asked. You all rock. 

Masterlist on my description. 

 Even with your still half-asleep brain, it is hard to not let the lazy smile curl your lips when you feel the light scratch of his beard brushing your neck before the softness of his mouth touches your cheek. You hum in satisfaction.

“Bucky…” you breathe, stirring as you lay on your stomach, still incapable of opening your eyes at this ungodly hour.

“Hey, sweetheart,” he whispers against your ear, and you can hear the smile in his voice. “I just wanted to say goodbye, didn’t mean to wake you.”

“Goodbye?” You whine. The memory of the reason why he is up so early flashes in your mind. Shooting your eyes open, you turn around to meet his beautiful face above yours while he stands by the bed, uniform on, leaning over with his arms straddling you. Stretching, you curl your arms around him and pull him closer. “No goodbyes…” you mumble, kissing his neck.

Bucky sucks in a breath, looking down at your chest – still bare from the activities of no more than a few hours before. He tilts his head to peck your lips. “Have to go, sweetheart…I’ll be home before you know it, definitely before Christmas.”

“No…” Your hold on his neck tightens while you assault his lips, cheeks, and jaw with sleepy kisses. “Too long… want you here.”

“Alright, then,” he says before swiftly jumping on the bed beside you, already starting to push his boots away from one foot with the other.

“What?” You yelp, holding yourself up with your elbows, shooting him a wide eyed look.

“My baby wants me to stay, I’m staying,” he states, in all seriousness while he tosses a boot across the room. “Screw the bad guys.” He then moves towards you, spreading your legs with a knee to accommodate himself while you promptly put your arms around him, even if your stare at him is of pure astonishment.  “Screw Tony Stark, Nick Fury and by all means-“ He starts kissing your neck down your chest, “-screw Captain America, I’m staying here with my love.” Nuzzling your breasts, he punctuates his resolve by capturing a nipple with his mouth.

The warm sensation makes you gasp and you almost give up on saying what you’re about to say, but you keep yourself strong. “No, baby, no…” You chuckle, pulling his face up and almost melting at the love you find plastered there, “Ugh… no, no you have to go… I was just being silly.” You twist your face in a dismissive way. “And I definitely don’t want Captain America bursting through the door again,” you add, remembering how mortified you were the time Steve and Nat caught the two of you right in the act.

“Screw that jerk,” Bucky spits, tipping his chin up before leaning down to kiss you.  

You laugh but the sound turns into a moan as you meet him halfway to the kiss. “You already said that,” you speak when he once again starts the descent in exploring your body with his mouth. You squirm and giggle once he reaches that ticklish spot of yours right by your clavicle, but pull him up again, cupping his cheeks. “You go on that mission, and I’ll be here, watching Alpine and waiting for you, just like we agreed I would do. Ok?”

He pouts at you and you can’t resist to give his lips a quick peck. “And when you come back, safe and sound, world saved and all, I’ll take good care of you, huh?” You raise your hips against his while one of your hands leaves his face in favor to grab a handful of his ass.  

“Sweetheart,” he groans down at you, “This is not helping your case. Like… at all.”

“Go!” You shout, giving his ass a sharp smack

“Oh, wow, ma’am.” He bites his lip. “Haven’t met this dom side of you yet, and damn… we should explore it…”

“Maybe when you get back.” You wink, before urging him to get up, “Come on, babe, you go Avenge the ass out of this world.”

“Alright, alright…” he relents after pecking your lips, and with a smile plastered on his face, he moves to sit up. “Alpine’s routine is on the fridge,” he says, sitting by the end of the bed with his back to you while he works to put his boots on again.

You chuckle from where you remain laying down and stretch your arms again. He had gone over Alpine’s routine a thousand times the previous day. You're staying at his place to watch over her while he’s away, and you have a guess you’re not the only one he’s having a hard time leaving behind.

“Ok,” he stands up and moves to you for another goodbye kiss, “Will you call me if you need anything?” He asks, his face inches from yours.

“Mhm-hmm,” you nod, laziness invading you again and turning your eyelids heavy, “Love you, come back to me soon.”

“I will,” he promises in a whisper and a kiss on your cheek, “Love you too…Oh, and by the way, I left your Christmas present on the nightstand. I sure hope you open it early.”

You register the mischief in his voice, but sleep wins you over. Snuggling into your pillow, you mumble out just an “ok” and fall into slumber again.

~~~

It’s already night time when you step into Bucky’s place again after quickly dropping by in the afternoon to check in on Alpine. Damn you if you leave her alone for a whole day… But it’s been a hectic day at work, and it doesn’t help that you hit the snooze button of your alarm one too many times this morning. 

“Hey, sweet pea.” You lean down to scratch her ear when Alpine greets you by the door with a meow, brushing her head against your calves. You chuckle, remembering the first encounter with the cat—a white ball of fur and anger hissing at you. 

“How was your day, huh? Did you miss dad?” You ask, her eyes closing with delight from the caress on her neck. “I know I did… come here,” you say, standing up and walking towards her food spot.

After changing her water and food, you leave her there, eating contentedly. Then you move towards the bathroom, longing for a long, hot shower to relax a bit, and then, hopefully, try to reach Bucky on the phone.

Within the first few months of finally setting your feelings for each other straight – well, after you finally set your feelings for him straight, because he was there long before you were – your relationship has been like anyone would expect, filled with overwhelming love and…

Sex…

Lots of sex.

All the time.

Everywhere.

You know it has a lot to do with the fact your relationship is still fresh and new, and it doesn’t mean that’s all you two are about. You love him and he loves you. But that’s how you two got together in the first place and how you’ve been primarily expressing the tremendous love you feel for each other. You’ve been attached to him at the hip and every other little part of his body and, boy, do you love it…

This is the first long mission he’s gone on since the two of you got together, and you know it will be especially hard to be away from him after the amazing goodbye night he gave you. Damn… you swear you can still feel it in your bones and every other part of you he’s touched.  

Finishing up your shower, your muscles relaxed, you grab one of Bucky’s shirts from his closet, relishing in the way his smell envelops you when you put it on.

That’s when something on the nightstand catches your attention.

A rectangular pink box with a golden ribbon. Bucky’s gift for you.

The last words he had said to you before he left for the mission resounds in your mind…I sure hope you open it early…

You cock an eyebrow at the package and next thing you know you’re sitting on the bed, untying the ribbon.

What you find inside the unassuming white box kicks the air out of your lungs. The surprised gasp quickly gives place to a large smile, because…Bucky… of course. His Christmas present for you, the first one you’re spending together, is… a rabbit vibrator.

“Hope it keeps you happy while I’m gone. Love you. Bucky.” You read on the card you find inside the box, and your smile widens even more.

You take it out of the black tulle bag to examine your gift further. The baby blue color of it makes you smile and your eyes widen realizing it’s gotta be the girthiest rabbit you’ve ever had the pleasure to see in person… Ah, Bucky… always thinking of your satisfaction, no matter if it’s provided by him or not. He must have figured you would miss him, all of him, that’s why he was so keen on you opening the gift soon.

A thought crosses your mind and makes you bite your lower lip. Just the fact of Bucky hoping you would use the gift twists your core in a very naughty way and you wonder whether you should give it a try right now… Well, he did tell you to open it early, which means he wanted you to use it… you better not disappoint him.

You’re quick on sanitizing it like the manual told you to. You check on Alpine, spotting her taking a nap on the couch, before shutting the door to Bucky’s room and grabbing the lube on the nightstand. You take off your underwear and, wearing just Bucky’s shirt, you sit comfortably on the bed with your back  against the headboard, lube and rabbit in hands.

You take in a deep breath to figure out how to get started. You sure are a bit excited already just by the thought of doing it, and you know the lube would certainly come in handy. However, considering the remarkably thick toy Bucky has chosen, you figure you should prep yourself better before starting. Grabbing your cell phone, you set the lube and the rabbit aside while you search through some porn videos.

Scrolling through some old favorites of yours, you realize it’s been a while since you’ve watched them. Not that it would be a problem with Bucky – like it would have certainly been with your ex, Eddie- but because you just didn’t have the time, always being too lost in each other to need anything else to excite you. After two or three videos, you notice / realize it’s not bringing the same effect they did before… they’re just not enough. You groan in frustration… has Bucky not only ruined any other man for you, but now also porn, too?

Well, if that’s the case, you might as well appeal to the vivid images right there in your mind. And that’s precisely what you do. Tossing the cell phone somewhere in on the bed and closing your eyes while leaning against the headboard, the little private show in your imagination begins.

The first image that flashes in your mind is his head between your legs on the very first night you two got together. The way he lapped and sucked and kissed, feasting on you like you were the most delicious meal he was ever fed. The image of him jerking himself off while eating you out that night twists the knot in your belly.

Your breathing becomes deeper and the knot twists further when you recall that night in some dark alley of the city after getting out of a rooftop bar. The thrill of the possibility of someone spotting you two while his cock was deep inside you makes you gasp again. The way he talked to you, with filthy praises… God… your hand slides down your body to between your open legs. Hot, soft and now perfectly wet… You hum in delight thinking how he would praise you for feeling so good…

With a finger you circle your clit and moan… you do feel good… with Bucky you’ve learned how to appreciate yourself in that way and damn… that’s one of the hottest things ever.

Feeling as ready as you could be, you open your eyes and retract your hand to grab the toy. You position it between your legs, and it makes you shiver when the velvet sensation of it meets your heat. You still need to lube it up, but you’re wet enough to let it slide between your folds. Your other hand flies to grab a handful of the sheets at the feeling and it stumbles against your phone in the way.

You just leave the toy there for a while, allowing the temperatures and textures to get acquainted. The heat flushes up your core and you experiment with the first of many levels of vibrations.

“Oh…” it slips from your lips and your head falls back against the headboard.

You guide the tip of the toy to your clit and push the button to the next level. And then the next…The sensation of Bucky’s tongue on that very same spot invades your senses, “Oh, yes, fuck... Bucky…” you moan loudly.

“Goddammit, baby, what are you up to?”

You scream and jump on the bed, tossing the rabbit away at the sound of your boyfriend's voice. 

“Bucky?” You call, widened eyes at the door, imagining you would see him there.

“Down here, babe.”

You follow his voice to see the cheeky grin on his face through your phone’s screen, which was tossed on the mattress beside you. You must’ve accidentally video called him at some point.

“Fuck…” you say under your breath while you swiftly work on swiping away the thin coat of sweat off your forehead and attempt to fix your hair a bit before grabbing your phone. “H-hey, Bucky.”

“Hey there, sweetheart,” he says, the grin on his face lingering. He’s still in his uniform, but you notice he’s sitting on an armchair in a bedroom. He must have just arrived in their safe house. “I take it you liked my present. It hasn’t even been a full day, yet,” he adds with amusement and, to your mortification, the buzzing of the still vibrating rabbit resounds in the room.

The embarrassment burns your cheeks, and leaves you speechless, but it doesn’t last long, because you know Bucky too well. You know he’s given you this present with your enjoyment in mind, but you do spot a glint of mischievous interest in his eyes.

Oh… you love that man.

“Yeah… I did love it. You have excellent taste.” Embarrassment completely gone, you decide that if he’s going to be cheeky about it, two can play this game. You slowly lick your lips before you give the lower one a long bite. Bucky’s eyes drop immediately to them, “You did say I should open it earlier,” you add, a tad of innocence in your tone.   

His chest heaves… he notices what you’re doing, “Fuck…” he breathes, eyes on your lips, “Damn me for getting in your way...” The camera of his phone is focused on his upper body, but by the position of his arm, you have an idea on where his hand lays now. You gulp down at the mental image of him rubbing himself through his pants, “Do you mind if I watch you, sweetheart?”

You absolutely love that he asks you that in that way, like he’s so eager to watch you but he would hate to be an intruder in your moment, even though all you’re thinking about in this moment is him. You smile when you hear he’s already working on opening his trousers. Definitely a perv, but your perv.

“You’re the one who gave me the gift… You’re more than welcome to join me.” You wink and move to put the cellphone on the phone holder on the nightstand. You position the camera towards you while you sit on the bed in a way that would give him a privileged view of your body.

His hooded gaze is unyieldingly on you as you place your feet on the mattress and open your legs. Widely. He sure enjoys the generous view as his eyes now drop to your exposed pussy and his jaw goes slack.

“Fucking hell, babe,” he barely whispers, his arms moving slowly on himself, “I love my shirt on you, but why don’t you take it off and let me see all of you babe? Show me those tits, will ya?” He nods towards the shirt you have on.

You promptly obey him, pulling it over your head and tossing it aside. The vision of yourself on the phone, completely exposed, makes your cheeks burn and you almost forget the cheeky performance you’ve been putting on so far. But the look he has for you … that look… the one that assures you’re the most beautiful woman in the world keeps you grounded… and hot… so fucking hot. Your fingers move on their own and find your dampened and swollen clit again. Your jaw drops at the sensation of you touching yourself.

Right there on the other side of the screen, Bucky brings his hand to his mouth, and, with his sultry eyes on yours, he draws his tongue out, licks his palm and spits on it before bringing it down again. Fuck… you’re about to come just by that image itself and the touch of your fingers on your pussy. You can’t even see his cock but you know it must look big and hard and damn beautiful in his hand. You gasp while your fingers race up against your clit and you hold yourself by twisting a fist on the sheets.

“Shhhh…. Slow down, babe…” Bucky warns in a restrained groan, “Don’t you have a gift to use?”

At that, your fingers freeze. Catching your breath, you reach for the rabbit. Knowing you’re wet enough to take that toy perfectly, you decide to tease Bucky as you put the length of it in your mouth, giving it a sultry lick before engulfing it with your lips, coating it with your saliva.

“Fuck yeah… suck it, baby, suck it good,” Bucky encourages through a tightened jaw as his arm speeds up on himself.

You twirl your tongue around the toy a few more times before bringing it down. Under his lustful gaze, you slide the rabbit between your folds, sinking it in your wetness before guiding the tip to your clit again and turning the vibration on.

“Oh, Bucky,” your voice is a whisper through the sound of the vibrator buzzing in the room.

“Does that feel good, babe?” Bucky questions and you can tell he’s slowing down his rhythm to prolong his own pleasure

“Oh, yeah… so good,” you moan.

“Then take it, sweetheart, take it good and let me see you. You’re so damn beautiful,” he coos, knowing exactly what a sucker you are for a few praises.

Your cunt clenches at his words and you guide the toy to your entrance. There’s a bit of a sting that hits your senses once you push the tip inside. Your jaw drops as you push it further. The length and girth are almost a challenge, but a delicious one that you’re willing to take.

“That’s it… so fucking sexy…”

With Bucky’s praise you let out a languid and loud moan, having the whole length of the toy deep inside you. Your other hand twists the fabric of the sheet and your head falls back.

Eager and dripping wet, you start pumping in and out, not slowly, not gently, as the knot inside you gets tighter and tighter, longing for a release. The vibrating little rabbit hits your clit every time you push in, and your vision becomes glossy and blurry, your mind lost in the pleasure you’re giving yourself under Bucky’s eyes.

“Baby that feels so good,“ you tell him, not caring about the sloppy sounds of your wetness, knowing that, if he can hear them, he’s losing his fucking mind right now.

“Shit… fuck… I’m so fucking lucky… look at that… look at you… fucking yourself so hard like that,” Bucky speaks in a raspy voice and between heavy breaths, jerking himself in a hasty pace, “God I miss that pussy so much already.”

“Fucking shitballs,” you choke, clenching around the toy. You have your eyes shut so you don’t see it, but you do hear the heavy chuckle Bucky lets out at your favorite curse.

More than willing to put on a show for him – and for your own pleasure, since you have a thing for that position - you remove the toy from you just quick enough to turn on all fours.  

“Oh shit…baby, you’re killing me here with that sexy ass of yours,” Bucky’s voice is a raspy sound from behind you, “You love that, don’t you? You love when I take you from behind, my cock deep in that sweet pussy... fuck.”

You look over your shoulder to spot his arm moving frantically, hypnotized by the vision of you. Hooded eyes focus on your ass as you pump the toy in and out of your pussy from behind. You glance at your own image, too and fuck, yeah, you do look exposed and sexy as hell.

Your eyes shut and your cheek meets the mattress.  You quicken your pace, letting yourself be guided by the increasing spark in your core. … you’re there. You’re almost there.

“Ride it… ride it good baby,” he groans through heavy breathing.

“Fuck… I’m gonna cum.” You pant and, for a moment, you forget all about putting on a show for Bucky. Your mind and body focus solely on fucking yourself, on the toy in your cunt… the thickness of it…the slide through your wetness… the sweet vibrations on your clit…

Your legs start shaking and you let out a loud moan when the tightening pleasure in your core breaks into a powerful orgasm. Your body moves in waves with the sparks of sheer pleasure washing over every little part of you, making your mind nothing but a fog.

With a relieved cry, you let yourself fall flat on the mattress, but still hold the toy inside you, allowing the vibrations on your clit until it’s too much. You yelp as you pull it out and toss it aside. Still trying to catch your breath and your senses, you turn on your side and reach over to grab the phone from the holder and bring it close to your face as you support your head on your straightened arm.

You could come all over again just by the image of Bucky there, face red and sweating, jaw clenched, and arm moving frantically on himself.

“Goddammit, goddammit,” he growls.

In your blissful state, you smirk. You know him too well to know he’s holding himself back, which means the sensation is just too good for him to easily let go, “Let me see…” you whisper before biting your lip.

Bucky promptly moves the camera down to his cock. Big and hard and pulsing in his flesh hand. You draw blood out of your lips at the sight, and can’t help but to press your thighs together to scratch the itch growing back between your legs.

The tingle in your pussy only sprouts once Bucky moans out his finish. and You watch the big spurts of come spilling down his hand and clothed belly, making a mess of his uniform. Pressing your thighs tighter, another orgasm hits you and takes your breath away all over again, prompted by the filthy vision of him and the eager still lodged between your legs. A small, yet greatly satisfying orgasm as you watch your boyfriend come all over himself through the phone screen.

“Shit… that was something… Best gift ever…” Bucky declares when you two manage to breathe properly and his camera is now back to his grinning face.

Your head falls back as you laugh. “I’m glad you liked it, but I thought the present was for me?” You cock an eyebrow at him.

“It is, but I know you’re generous enough to include me sometimes. Aren’t you, beautiful?” He winks that mischievous wink of his.

“I’m sure we can figure something out,” you answer, the smile never leaving your face or his, before turning to lay on your back, holding the phone up as you rest your head on his pillow, “So, how was your day?”.  

Bucky shrugs, “Same old same old, bad guys being assholes, Avengers being awesome… and my hot as fuck girlfriend at the end of the day to make it all worth it.”

The fondness in his voice and face, a complete contrast to him calling you “hot as fuck”, makes your heart jump funny and you can’t help but giggle. It turns out Bucky is, not just a real Sex God, but also the sappiest and sweetest man on earth. A combination that makes him almost irresistible… damn… who are you kidding? There’s is no  “almost”. He’s thoroughly and deliciously irresistible. 

“How’s Alpine?” He then asks, laying back on the chair and placing an arm comfortably behind his head. 

“She’s great. I think she didn’t even notice you’re gone.”  

Hurt falls upon his face as he aims a kicked puppy look at you.

“I’m kidding, I’m kidding,” you’re quick to add with a chuckle, “The cat is miserable”, you lie. Now that Alpine has warmed up to you, she’s very comfortable and happy in your presence, even in Bucky’s absence. So when you see the pout on his face, you decide it’s enough for you to not break that man’s heart, which is as soft as cotton, you’ve come to learn. “Come back to her soon, will ya?” As relief shows on his face, you plead, not talking solely about Alpine anymore. It’s been a day and you already miss him like crazy.  

“I will,” he answers with a smile and a meaningful look, before the mischief is back again, “So tell me, how did you prep yourself to try out my present? Just by thinking of me?” The cockiness is obvious in his voice.

“Yeah, actually…” You see no point in hiding that from him, “But don’t get too cocky…” You point a warning finger, “I couldn’t find any good porn.”

Bucky’s laugh lights up the room even miles away and through a tiny screen.  “Well, well, that’s too bad,” he says, nonchalantly, “Maybe we should make our own for next time, then.” He bites his lip and wiggles his eyebrows.

You register the wicked promise in his words and smile, as cheekily as he does.  

You’re so here for that.

 ~~~

[dilly-oh]

Trashy Romance Novel

    “Naruto, you frigging idiot,” Iruka began hotly, barging into the hospital room, “of all the stupid, brainless things you could have done, this is by far the-”

    He stopped. 

    The person lying in the small bed was definitely not Naruto. It was a grown-ass man with messy gray hair and a faded scar over one eye, the sterile white sheets pulled up over his nose, apparently sound asleep. Iruka stared at him for a long moment, dumbfounded, before it clicked. 

    Oh shit, he thought. This is the wrong room. I'm in the wrong room. I need to hurry up and leave before- 

    The stranger's eyes cracked open and he squinted up at Iruka in confusion.

    “...Who're you?” he croaked out. Iruka managed a rather articulate gurgle of dismay, frozen in sheer mortification. He considered the distance between him and the IV drip, wondering if he could dose the man back to unconsciousness before he could scream or buzz for a nurse. “Are those for me?” the man asked, sitting up in bed to regard the bouquet of flowers in Iruka's arms. He opened his mouth to disagree, but then the sheet slipped off the man's face, and Iruka suddenly thought giving him the flowers might not be such a bad idea. He definitely deserved a thank you after gifting him with...that. He didn't even protest as the alarmingly handsome stranger reached out and took the bundle of flowers, opening the card on top. 

    “You're a dumbass. Love, Iruka.” he read aloud, then looked up at Iruka, batting his eyes. “Aww, babe, you shouldn't have.”

    “Whoa whoa WHOA!” Iruka finally blurted out, his face burning half from embarrassment at the situation, half from the thinly-veiled flirting. “I'm sorry, sir, there's been a mistake. I'm in the wrong room and-”

    “You mean you aren't my doting husband I tragically forgot about due to amnesia and now you have to win back my love by passionately recreating the story of our romantic union?”

    “Excuse me, WHAT-”

    “Sorry, I've been reading trashy romance novels. They're the only books this hospital has. Can't blame me for trying.” The man shrugged, then reluctantly handed back the bouquet. “Who's the lucky person they're actually for? Must be someone real special if you're calling them a dumbass to their face.”

    “My kid brother,” Iruka explained with a sigh. “He's here with a head injury.”

    “Ouch.” The man winced in sympathy. “Poor kid.”

    “Not really. He head-butted a brick wall.” 

    “...May I ask why?”

    “Because his stupid boyfriend walked into it and he had to, and I quote, 'defend his honor'.” Iruka paused, looking the man up and down. Despite being a bit on the pale side, he looked perfectly fine, pun very much intended. It was almost unfair how well he pulled off the hospital gown (although Iruka would much rather be the one pulling it off, wink wink, nudge nudge). “So...what're you in for?” His voice dropped to a whisper. “Was...was it the crappy romance novels? Did they rot your brain?”

    “I have an extremely rare, aggressive form of cancer with only two weeks left to live and the only cure is a kiss from my one true love...” The man swooned back onto the pillow and looked expectantly up at Iruka, who rolled his eyes. 

    “Yeah they definitely did-”

    “Alright you got me. Broke my leg.” He pulled the sheet off his lower half, revealing his legs, one of which was wrapped in a cast, propped up on some pillows. Several encouraging words from friends were scrawled on the white surface in marker, one of them a jarring green highlighter. It almost hurt Iruka's eyes to look at it. 

    “...How did you break it?” he asked, unable to contain his curiosity. 

    “I heroically threw myself in front of a speeding car in order to save the life of my beloved-” 

    “Okay how did you really break it?”

    “Tripped chasing after my pug at the park,” the man admitted with a weary sigh, his shoulders slumping in defeat. 

    “...Is the dog okay?” Iruka asked after a long pause.

    The stranger burst out laughing. It was a nice laugh, warm and contagious enough to elicit a chuckle out of Iruka, who was growing more and more intrigued. He couldn't deny the spark of attraction he felt for the other man, spontaneous as it was, and it seemed to be reciprocated. He didn't even know his name, but something about the man made Iruka want to know more about him. Maybe this was like some trashy romance novel, where the two would-be lovers met under unusual circumstances and fell instantly in-

    “Hey, Kakashi,” a man with short brown hair said, suddenly walking into the room, “I brought the next three volumes of your shitty porn series from the hospital library and a couple pairs of clean underwear, so you can stop fucking texting me the specific style and brand you want from home, you're so damn picky-” He stopped dead as he caught sight of Iruka, pausing for a beat, then glanced at the man in the bed, his eyes darting nervously between the two. “Umm...am I...interrupting something?”

    A cold pit of ice yawned open in Iruka's stomach. 

    Oh my GOD. Here he was, borderline flirting with some stranger in a random hospital room, when obviously the man already had a boyfriend and Iruka was just making a complete ass of himself. The flirting had probably been misinterpretation on his part anyway, and if not, the guy was a total dick. Either way, enough was enough. His face aflame with rage and shame, Iruka spun towards the door. 

    “I need to go.”

    “Hey, wait!” Kakashi or whatever his name was called after him. 

    Iruka was already out the door, ignoring the man's cries. Screw him, and screw Naruto, too. He was the cause of this whole mess. Iruka would just text him later. He was probably making out with Sasuke anyway and wouldn't even notice his brother hadn't popped in to visit. Iruka needed out of this hospital NOW. He turned towards the stairs, immediately got lost, and spent the next five minutes growing increasingly flustered as he stormed through the winding hallways, desperately searching for the exit. Why the fuck was the hospital so damn BIG-

    “Hey! Iruka! Hold up!”

    Iruka spun around to see Kakashi speeding towards him in a wheelchair, his boyfriend dutifully pushing him down the hallway at a dead run, IV dangling after him on its cord like a faithful dog. The wheelchair stopped with an audible squeal in front of him.

    “What- where did- did you steal that?!” Iruka hissed in outrage. 

    “Of course not, don't be silly,” Kakashi protested, sounding offended. “The guy it belongs to was asleep in his bed. I'm just borrowing it. I'll return it later. Anyway, Iruka-”

    “Were you flirting with me in there?” Iruka demanded, cutting him off. “Be honest.”

    “Abso-fucking-lutely,” Kakashi said without an ounce of remorse. “So can I have your number or what?” Iruka bristled. 

    “You're a piece of shit! I can't believe you, hitting on me like this right in front of your boyfriend! You have some nerve-”

    “Wait...boyfriend?” Kakashi cocked his head in confusion. “You mean Yams?”

    “The fuck do YAMS have to do with anything-”

    “Hi, that's me,” the short-haired man said, raising a hand. “Yamato, actually. 'Yams' to my friends. Which is what we are. Just...friends.” Iruka scowled at him suspiciously. 

    “Friends? Don't fuck with me. You brought him underwear-”

    “Really close friends,” Yamato reiterated. “Also, roommates. It's awful. I can't get away from him.” Iruka studied him for a moment, but couldn't spot any hint of deception. The man's almond-shaped eyes were surprisingly honest.

    “So you two...aren't dating?” he asked hesitantly. Yamato gave him a horrified look.

    “Dear God, NO. Kakashi is the WORST. He's lazy as hell, procrastinates til the last minute, is perpetually late to everything-”

    “You are a shit wingman-” Kakashi began. 

    “He needs to know what he's getting into,” Yamato snapped at him, then turned back to Iruka. “Seriously, though. You should run while you still can. There's hope for you.”

    “Don't listen to him,” Kakashi cut in. “I'm a fucking catch. Which is exactly why you should let your flaxen hair down, rip your shirt open to reveal your heaving bosom, and throw yourself into my arms-”

    “Will you cut that out?!” Iruka burst out impatiently. “Life is not a trashy romance novel.”

    “You sure about that?” Kakashi said, quirking an eyebrow. “Because I met you in a hospital through total coincidence. After really hitting it off, we had a misunderstanding brought on by miscommunication. Then I chased after you in a fucking wheelchair to declare my undying attraction to you. If that isn't a plot to a trashy romance novel, I don't know what the fuck is. At least it's not raining right now.”

    “I dunno, it might be drizzling,” Yamato said, glancing at a window.

    Iruka paused, considering.

    “I guess it...would make a pretty good book,” he admitted quietly. “The only thing is...I'm not sure what happens next.”

    “That part's for us to write,” Kakashi said, his tone eager. “Only we can complete the story.”

    “Aaaaand I'm going to puke,” Yamato stated. 

    “Sorry, we crossed the line from 'trashy' into 'sappy'.” Kakashi shook his head. “Anyway. Iruka. Please, I'm begging you. Let me sweep you off your feet. Just...give me a chance.”

    “I'll do you one better,” Iruka said after a pause. “I'll give you my number.” Stealing a marker from the nearby nurse's station, he bent and wrote his cell number on Kakashi's cast, then straightened and held out the bouquet. “Here, you can have these. The message works for you too, I guess.”

    Kakashi accepted the flowers with a laugh, taking an appreciative sniff. 

    “And now, I shall ride dramatically off into the sunset,” he said with complete seriousness. “Come, my valiant steed. Awaaaay!”

    “I will push you down the stairs,” Yamato grumbled as he spun the wheelchair around and started back down the hallway. Iruka watched them go with a fond smile on his face, giddy with anticipation. 

    He was eager to read the next few chapters in his life.

    Including the steamy bits. 

(Written for @kakairu-fest KakaIru Month 2021, Day Twelve Prompt: Hospitals)

[twistedtummies2]

Adeuce, You Say!

Yeah, I couldn’t come up with a good title for this one, sorry. XD This is a birthday gift for a dear friend of mine, @belliesandburps. He mentioned he wanted to see Ace Trappola drinking a LOT of soda. I couldn’t think of a concept that featured JUST Ace, so I decided to throw Deuce Spade in for good measure. Hopefully he won’t mind this. ;) Happy Birthday, BNB! You’re one of the best friends a twisted whacko like myself could ever ask for. <3

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“I can’t believe you talked me into this…” “Aww, come on, don’t be a spoilsport!” You couldn’t help but blush a bit...and cursed yourself for doing so. The “fun” hadn’t even begun, and already you could feel your heartbeat with anticipation. “Don’t worry, Deuce,” you muttered. “The feeling is mutual, on my end…” Ace Trappola and Deuce Spade turned to look at you. The three of you were gathered in Ace’s room in Heartslabyul; you had cleared a table he kept in the room - which was designed to resemble a carefully-arranged house of cards - and now both he and Deuce sat at opposite ends of the short furnishing. On the floor directly in front of the table one of them had placed a recycling bin - litter was not allowed, per the Rules of the Queen of Hearts - and on the table itself were four large boxes. Two of the boxes, which sat nearest Deuce, contained twelve packs of Vanilla Cola. In contrast, the two boxes closest to Ace contained Cherry Cola. Ace smirked, tossing some of his carrot-colored hair out of his face, and winked his tattooed eye, the crimson heart shape around it flickering as his one visible cherry-toned iris twinkled with mischief-making glee. “Well, we all know why YOU agreed to this,” he teased. “C’mon, you can’t deny you’re a little...EXCITED, huh, Prefect?” “I hate you,” you droned, grumbling as you squirmed where you stood. “I hate you so much…” “Is this the reason you decided to have this contest?” frowned Deuce, his own turquoise eyes narrowing, the black spade tattoo over one of them crinkling slightly behind his dark blue bangs. “To make the Prefect a blushing mess? I think you could have waited till the next lunch hour for that.” “You are NOT helping,” you grumped, glaring at Deuce half-heartedly.

Neither of the Heartslabyul duo seemed to notice. Ace snorted and waved a hand dismissively. “Nah, that’s just a nice bonus,” he chuckled, and grinned roguishly. “Cater just told me this kinda thing is trending right now. I figure, with my talents, I’ve got a shot at getting some preeeetty good views. That’s why I asked the Prefect to film this.” He jabbed his thumb towards you; you fiddled with the cell phone in your hands, biting your lip and saying nothing. “And why choose ME to be your competitor in this?” Deuce droned. “Does humiliating me just make you feel better about yourself?” “It does. Yes. Absolutely. One hundred percent,” grinned Ace. Deuce glared. He looked to the sodas, then back at Ace...then huffed and turned away. “No,” he stated. “I’m not doing it.” “Awww, come on, you’re already here!” Ace whined. “This won’t take long!” “He does have a point,” you spoke up. “Speaking with as little obvious bias as possible…” “I already mistrust your judgment,” Deuce muttered, while Ace snickered. “...You agreed to this and came here, so you might as well see it through to the end.” “And I don’t expect you to go easy on me!” snapped Ace, lifting a finger rather dramatically. “I want a challenge!” “Then you should have asked somebody else!” Deuce exclaimed. “Why not try someone from Savanaclaw, or one of the Leech Twins?” “I said I wanted a challenge, not a suicide mission,” Ace said, bluntly. You couldn’t repress a snort of laughter. You apologized under your breath as both frowned at you before looking back to each other. “Forget it,” Deuce said firmly. “I’m not engaging in something as infantile as a soda-drinking-” “Soda-CHUGGING, Spade. Get with the times, Mr. Delinquent.” Deuce glared violently. Ace lifted his hands and mouthed a quick apology. Deuce calmed down...but only VERY slightly. “...Soda...Chugging...Contest,” Deuce corrected, grinding his teeth and turning faintly red in the face at Ace’s taunt. “I’m not doing it for you, and you can’t make me.” Ace narrowed his eyes, frowning, looking Deuce up and down for a moment...then grinned anew. “Okay,” he said, slyly. “Then don’t do it for me. There’s other reasons to try.” Deuce looked suspicious and skeptical at the same time. “Such as?” Ace responded by opening one of his cases of cherry cola and pulling a single can free. He waggled it in one hand indicatively, raising an eyebrow in Deuce’s direction. Before either yourself or Deuce could comment on the actions and ask what he was doing - he popped the can open. It hissed and crackled as the pressure was released...then, without a hint of hesitation, he tipped his head back and quickly slugged down the contents of the first can. GLUG, GLUG, GLUG… You felt those familiar stirrings start within you, as your eyes immediately zeroed in on Ace’s strong but slender throat. You watched his Adam’s Apple bounce like a rubber ball with each gulp of soda. Internally, you couldn’t help but put yourself in the drink’s place...cascading down his throat, rushing down his gullet towards the ever-hungry black hole that was his belly… You shivered at the same time he finished the can. He crushed it in one hand with relish and pitched it into the recycling bin. It clattered loudly, making Deuce jump slightly. He opened his mouth to question what all this was about, and perhaps to protest again… ...And looked up just in time to find Ace leaning over the table, mouth wide open...burping four words out. Right in his face. “YYYOOOUUU...AAAARRRRE...AAAAAA...CHIIIIIC-KEEEENNNN-UUUUURRRRRP!” Ace smirked smugly, eyes half lidded as he rested his chin in one hand and licked his lips, eyeing Deuce expectantly. Deuce blinked fast several times, his expression stunned, face speckled with spittle after the messy, wet blast...then glared. “Alright, Trappola,” he almost growled. “Now…” He opened a box. “...You’re…” He pulled out a can of his own. “...On.” SNAP-CRACKLE-POP. The first can of vanilla cola was opened, and Deuce began to chug it down with relish. Ace laughed, and quickly pulled out a second can of his own. “I knew it would work!” he sang out, and popped his own can open, and began to drink down some more cherry cola as fast as he could, eager to catch up with Deuce. You sighed; you were a captive audience to this display. Not that you minded too much, you had to admit...especially given your current position. You decided to sit down rather than stand, but there was no third chair for you to use...so you simply crossed your legs and sat on the floor. This inevitably meant looking up at the pair, and some mean, self-shaming fraction of your submissive little brain couldn’t help but mock you as you watched Deuce hurl his first can into the recycling bin carelessly before moving onto another...imagining your own self being treated with the same nonchalance. Just fuel for a greater being. “I hate my life,” you muttered to yourself. “What - HIC-URP! - what was that?” Ace chirruped. “Never mind. Keep going. First to finish all 24 cans wins.” Keep going the pair did. Gulping and slurping echoed out almost non-stop, interrupted only briefly by the crushing of cans and the sound of them falling into the bin. GLUG-CRUNCH! GULP-SCRUNCH! GOLLOP-GRUNCH! Ace frowned as he hurriedly downed his sodas; his goading of Deuce had seemingly backfired, for Spade had quickly taken a surprising lead. He was only a can ahead of Ace, but one can was all it would take. He kept glancing to Deuce to gauge his progress, eyes burning hotly like crimson flames as he gulped down soda pop after soda pop. Deuce, for his part, remained focused on the sodas themselves, chugging them down as rapidly as he could; you could actually hear the fizzing and sizzling of the carbonation as it raced down their gullets at record-breaking speed. Naturally, all that air being ingested meant pockets of gas were building up inside of both students’ guts. Ace had no problem letting those pockets burst. “BRRRRAAAAAAP! Oof...oh - UUUURRRRRRP! Ha Ha...that was a good one wasn’t it...mph...PRRRRRRRRRREEEEEEFFFFEEEEEECT?” You had to fight yourself NOT to squeak, as Ace laughed and slugged down more and more soda, burping and belching like a crass pig between every single can, clearly delighting in showing off. You wanted to tell him that this wasn’t going to get him the lead back...but you were a little too loopy from the sickly-sweet smell of soda-scented stomach gas filling the air to care much. Deuce, meanwhile, handled things differently. He didn’t burp at all. Honestly, that was actually getting you even more excited; by now, he had finished six cans and was working on a seventh. (Ace was just starting his sixth can, in contrast.) The effect of so much bubbling cola pooling in his belly was starting to become obvious; he looked slightly green as his stomach audibly ROARED with all the gas building up inside...and he breathed heavily, panting almost like a huge dog in-between each can, starting with the fourth. Something had to give, and it wouldn’t be long till something did. Sure enough, after polishing off his eighth can, Deuce couldn’t hold it all in anymore. His stomach let out a lurching GRORBLE noise, and he grunted...before his eyes widened and his cheeks ballooned. He lifted a fist in a vain attempt to stifled the blast...but it was no good. His lips flapped as it bellowed forth with tinnitus-inducing volume. “GUUUUUYYYYYUUUUUHHHHHUUUUURRRRRLLLLLUUUUURRRRRP!” The explosive burp seemed to rock the room. Ace yelped, jumping in his seat just as he had finished his seventh can. He blinked with some alarm as Deuce covered his mouth. Spade hiccuped sharply and blinked, flushing red in the face as his other hand clutched his belly. The look of ripe embarrassment on his face was priceless, and you found yourself starting to giggle. “Good one,” you complimented, with a blush of your own. Deuce glared at you reproachfully. Ace began to laugh, slapping his knee. “HA HA HA HA! Wow, you’ve been holding back on us!” he cackled. “I bet even the lion would have a hard time matching that ‘roar,’ ha!” “Sh-sh-shut up!” Deuce stuttered, turning redder than ever. Ace was still sniggering as he grabbed his next can of cola and quickly swallowed it down. Deuce paused for just a few moments more, seemingly to catch his breath after that enormous eructation, but soon got back to drinking. Now the two were neck and neck. And as they drew nearer and nearer to the end of their first boxes, you realized that gas was not the only thing starting to swell and fester inside their guts. Each of the two were dressed in their Heartslabyul dorm outfits: black and white jackets lined with gold, white undershirts under color-coordinated vests - Ace wore strawberry red, and Deuce wore jet black. As they swallowed up more and more of the soft drinks, you could hear the fabric and buttons creak. The fluid and the carbonation it carried were causing both of their bellies to start to swell and stretch, growing rounder and more bloated...you bit your lip and fidgeted in place. It was so hard to stay focused on the video you were taking when real life was right before you...and ooooohhhhhh, how appealing it looked… Speaking of the video, you checked the time...and couldn’t help but whistle, impressed. “You guys work faster than I realized,” you said, with a slightly nervous chuckle. Deuce smiled almost sheepishly. Ace beamed proudly. Both cracked another can open at the exact same time. Nine cans, ten cans, eleven cans...it was no time at all before each reached the last can in their first twelve packs. You could actually hear their stomachs: their bowels growled and their guts “gulunked” as all that thick, fizzy, sugary stuff bubbled inside of them like a cauldron full of good ol’ fashioned witch’s brew. The difference was you didn’t have to worry about Mr. Crewel yapping at you about how you forgot a tablespoon of some ingredient...or the room exploding into frog zombies as a result… ...Potions class was hard… “BEEEEEEEEEEELLLLLLLLLLUUUUUUURRRRRRRLLLLLLLLCH!” Two blasts of gas - simultaneously synchronized - sonorously blew forth, sounding out like a foghorn and causing the table legs to rattle. You blushed bright red as the abrasive sound caught your attention, and you found yourself looking up at the pair as they paused in their drinking. They had each polished off their first twelve pack, and were lounging back in their seats. Deuce grunted as he began to fiddle with the buttons of his vest, grumbling under his breath about how they had “shrunk in the wash” recently… ...Bless his heart… Ace, meanwhile, let out another crass, shameless belch out of the corner of his mouth - “BRRRRAAAACK!” - and sighed as he drummed his fingers over his swollen stomach. He winced with discomfort at the tightness of his clothes on his belly...but made no move to loosen anything. Instead he looked down at you...and smirked cockily, holding his head high. “Heh heh...havin’ fun down there? Enjoying the show?” he teased. “You know, if Riddle found you both like this, he’d have you both beheaded,” you answered. Deuce froze. Ace gulped nervously. “You wouldn’t,” both said at once. “If Ace here doesn’t stop kink-teasing me, I might,” you smiled oh-so-innocently. Deuce sighed with relief; that was a sure sign to him you weren’t serious. Ace, meanwhile, frowned and grumbled, looking off to the side with a pout. “If I was that lion, you’d be melting like ice cream,” he grumbled. You were about to respond to that when suddenly, Deuce let out a deep sound - somehow groaning and burping at the same time. “Grrrrooooouuuurrrrrrllllllph...mmmaaahhh…” You almost swore your heart skipped a beat as you looked towards him. He had undone his vest and his trouser buttons, and his eyes were fluttering. From under his plain white undershirt, his pale-skinned belly spilled into his lap, his shallow navel winking into view as it sloshed into place, freed of most restraints and sloshing full of soda. “Ohhhh...that feels so much better,” he sighed out...then blinked...and blushed bright red as he realized both you and Ace were staring at him. “Er...uh...I just...um…” “Well,” smirked Ace. “So much for the stuffed shirt Honors Student, huh?” ‘I-I am not a stuffed shirt!” exclaimed Deuce. “Nope. Just a very stuffed Spade,” you couldn’t help but quip. Deuce gave you a look that was best described as “Et tu, Prefect?” Ace cackled; his gut sloshed and bounced with his mirth. Then, a lightbulb seemed to go over his head, and he began to fiddle with his own buttons… GUBLORSH. “BRRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAOOOOOORRRRRRRRRIIIIIIIIIIIP! Whew...MAN, that feels good…” You were internally squeeing, and biting your lip almost hard enough to draw blood (almost) as you saw Ace’s belly spill into his lap. He sighed, eyes fluttering with relief...then gave a grin to Deuce, who was staring as if he didn’t know how to react. “There. Now we’re even,” Ace sing-songed. Deuce looked somewhat dubious. “Is that why you did that? Or just to try and make the Prefect’s ears steam?” Now it was YOUR turn to give Deuce the “Et tu?” look. Ace shrugged cheerfully, and patted his belly with pride. “Neither! Just wanted to relieve the pressure. But come on, even if I HAD been, would it be right to hide this perfection away?” “Do you ever think of anything but yourself?” “If you looked like this, would you?” Both you and Deuce shared a look as Ace grunted, stifling a burp with one fist before opening up his second twelve pack. “HHHRRRLLLMMMPH...well, twelve more to go...game’s not over yet. Unless you wanna throw in the towel…” “Not a chance!” declared Deuce, opening his next twelve pack up. “I’m getting you back for that belch in the face!” Ace just guffawed as he pulled another can free, popped it open, and began to drink again. GLUG, GLUG, GLUG… Deuce was quick to follow suit; once again, they were consuming soda almost at the same speed and time. The first can for each vanished within three seconds flat...then came the second...then the third...and then the fourth… It was as they began to guzzle down the fifth can each - which, really, meant the seventeenth - that you started to notice a few things. The first was that you could hear the soda pooling inside their bodies. You could actually detect the sound of it pouring down their gullets and into their massively swollen tankers, like twin waterfalls dropping down into huge basins. You felt your toes curl in your shoes; the heavy saturation of sugar was making them sound aggressively “grumbly,” gurgling and sloshing with the might of ocean waves. These sounds only seemed further amplified by the second thing you noticed, which was the view. Again, you were seated before the two, looking up at them...which meant those giant bellies looked even bigger and more looming than usual. You were NOT going to give either of them (especially Ace) the satisfaction of acting like a mouse, but it was so hard not to FEEL like one...especially as those massively rounded guts continued to swell and grow as they drank more and more. By the time they had begun their second round, their midsections looked as if each had swallowed a football whole. Now, they were inching out further and further, rolling into their laps and making their shirts ride up further and further, exposing more and more of their soft, tender skin… Forget the soda chugging; the real contest in YOUR mind was which belly you wanted to just bury your face and fingers in the most! You somehow held back, though your fingers twitched around the phone you held. The mixture of the noises and the continuing growth, however, led to a third realization: as the pair plucked up their sixth cans each, you abruptly noticed both were starting to slow down. They were huffing and puffing from the weight in their bellies, and once in a while would flinch as their guts “blurgled” sloppily around their hyper-saccharine contents. “Oooof,” groaned out Ace, as he cracked his can open. “I’m...mph...g-gettin’ kinda heavy…”

“Same - HIC! - ugh, same here,” hiccuped Deuce, and gave a determined glare. “But...b-but I’m not quitting yet.” His words were ruined by his stomach ROARING, and he winced, clutching it with his free hand. Ace just smirked, saying nothing, and the two clinked their cans together as if in toast before downing their sixth drinks. Eighteen down now, and only six more to go. GRORLP...BLLLRRRG...RRRRRAAAAAWWWWWRRRRRLLLLLB…! The sounds of gastric effort resounded through Ace’s room as he and Deuce continued to consume their sodas. Deuce was no longer holding back his gas; Ace certainly hadn’t started doing so. They hiccuped more than once, each letting out a BELCH or BURP freely in-between drinks as they downed their nineteenth, twentieth, and twenty-first sodas. The recycling bin, by now, was overflowing; you glanced back over your shoulder, grateful you had locked the door. With cans now just dropping to the floor in crumpled heaps, if Riddle Rosehearts were to walk in, it would be off with all your heads, you had no doubt. You were also glad Grim was out practicing his fire magic with Ortho; the loudmouthed imp might have caused problems there. It was a miracle all the gassy eruptions hadn’t roused much attention beyond the room, to begin with. Each of the competitors reached for their twenty-second cans; your eyes widened as you looked towards Deuce. Ace was panting and grunting, but his general motions hadn’t slowed down much. However, Deuce had clearly grown more sluggish: he had a lot more inner capacity than most folks realized (though certainly no match for the likes of some aforementioned students), but he was “out of training” on that front. It was obvious that he hadn’t consumed this much soda at once in a long time (if ever at all), and he looked both tired and a little queasy. He drank more slowly, and it looked like he was trying hard just to get it all down… Ace had pulled ahead at the very last minute: he was now on his twenty-third can of soda, and Deuce had just finished the twenty-second. By the time Deuce had started on his twenty-third, Ace was about to begin his final drink! Deuce let out a sound that was somewhere between a grunt and a whimper - a difficult noise to describe, indicating sickly desperation - and tried to chug down his twenty-third cola as fast as he could… It wasn’t fast enough. Ace cracked open his twenty-fourth can - the last one in his box - and swilled it down so swiftly, you could have sworn he just inhaled it all in a single swallow. “Guh!” gasped out Ace, and hiccuped loudly - he bounced in his seat from the force of it, his gut sloshing like a water balloon against his thighs - and let the can drop from his grip. “Oooooh...ohhhhh, soooooo full...UUUURRRRP! Ah...haaaah, I f-feel like I’m gonna - HIC! - ohhhh, gonna burst…” He shivered; his expression still bore a smile - though it was slightly forced. You couldn’t help but imagine the phrase “hurts so good” applied to how he had to be feeling right about now. Lazily, languidly, he turned his head to look at Deuce as Deuce moaned with discomfort and tossed his second-to-last can of Vanilla Cola aside. “I win,” Ace grinned. Deuce looked at him in a slow, bleary way, as if he were struggling to stay awake. He hiccuped and groaned; his cheeks swelled, as if he were trying to keep his stomach’s contents in place. He didn’t say a word, just glared at Ace, sullenly. “Awww, don’t be...mph...like that,” Ace said, shifting his posture in his seat. “There’s...ngh...still one can left...g-go ahead. Finish it off.” “What’s the point?” huffed Deuce, and clutched his bare belly tightly as it “glarbled” in a nauseous way. “You already...ow...beat me..” “Well,” Ace cooed, “If you don’t think you can handle...just...one...more…” He started to subtly reach towards Deuce’s box. Something seemed to flare up, and Deuce’s aquamarine eyes flashed with newfound fire. He snatched up his final can of cola before Ace could grab hold of it. Ace smirked triumphantly as he watched his friend down the last of the sodas with gusto. “Gets ‘im every time,” he muttered to himself. You just rolled your eyes. Deuce threw his final can aside and groaned louder than before. He hiccuped and once again looked as if he had to struggle to avoid feeling sick as his breath became shallow and shaky. “Grrrrooooohhhhhh...wh-why...why did I...UUUUUURRRRRRK...agree to this…?” “Wimp,” mumbled Ace, only to quiver and let out a raspy breath of his own, as his stomach rumbled so loudly it visibly vibrated. “Hhhnnnaaaaahhhhhh...Chernabog’s horns, I’m - BRRRUUUOOORRRLLLK - soooooo STUFFED now...haven’t - URP - drank that much in my...m-my life…” You quickly turned off the video, stopping the recording...mostly because you did NOT want it to pick the inevitable “meep” sound you made as you openly ogled your two friends and their bloated bodies. It looked as if they had swallowed a couple of prize-worthy pumpkins whole, their sagging, sloshing stomachs as round and heavy as a pair of medicine balls. “I don’t feel so good,” moaned Deuce. “Speak for yourself,” Ace sighed. “This is AMAZING…” “You can say that again,” you gulped to yourself. “Huh?” both slurred out. “Nothing, guys, nothing,” you said, shaking your head. You got up onto your knees and shuffled towards them. Ace gave you a slothful smirk. “Hey, kneeling before my superior awesomeness?” he teased. “I always knew you would.” You gave him a bored look and responded by lifting a hand and jabbing at his stomach. His belly wobbled with a sound like a water bed. He hissed through gritted teeth before belching messily like a total pig. “BLLLLLLUUUUUURRRRRYYYYAAAAAOOOORRRRRRLLLLLLGP! Oof...okay, okay, sorry...ow, that one kinda hurt,” grunted Ace, thumping his chest with a fist and working up a shorter, softer after burp which you could barely hear. Considering how much your ears were ringing, that wasn’t necessarily a bad point. “You won the match,” you said to Ace. “Doesn’t mean I’m gonna start treating you like some kinda overlord or whatever.” Ace grumbled unintelligibly. Deuce smirked with satisfaction, tainted only slightly by his clearly ill state. It vanished as his belly burbled noisily however, and he had to fight back a whimper. You smiled sympathetically. “Maybe next time you’ll beat him,” you suggested. “You’re insinuating there may BE a next time,” Deuce groused. “Never. Again.” You had a feeling Ace would find a way to push the not-so-stoic student’s buttons in another direction, but you didn’t say so. Instead, you started to stand. “I’ll get you something to settle your stomach,” you offered Deuce. “Uh...c-could you get me somethin’, too?” Ace asked, and let out an embarrassed, soft laugh as he winced courtesy of a loud gut rumble of his own. “I, uh...mph...I think maybe I’m gonna need it sooner or later...ouch…” You rolled your eyes, but said you would, and started to stand up, patting your knees… ...Only to freeze up short as, suddenly, Deuce grabbed hold of your arm. “Wait...um...maybe you...don’t have to go anywhere?” he suggested. You blinked at him, confused, and cocked your head to one side questioningly. Deuce bit his lip...took a breath...and then tried to elaborate. “You, uh...we both know you have those… ‘Magic Fingers’ of yours, so...maybe...maybe a little bit of that m-might help?” You blinked again, more slowly than before, trying to process what Deuce was asking. “...Are you saying you...want a...a belly rub?” you checked, cautiously. “Only if you don’t mind!” Deuce insisted. “Heeeey, you can’t hog the belly rubs!” Ace cried out. “Besides, we all know mine is a lot softer and smoother than yours!” “Is not.” “Is too!” “Is not.” “Is too!” “Is...this REALLY an argument we’re having?” “Yep. Seems that way.” You were blushing too much to remember how to laugh. “I mean...if you’re...SURE you want it,” you said, in a quiet, quavering voice. Deuce nodded, an almost pleading look in his eyes. Ace grinned and nodded as well, more enthusiastically. You took a deep breath to steady yourself - it was hard to believe you were this lucky - and directed the pair to move closer together. They did, pulling their chairs forward and sideways...and you scurried between them, biting your lip as you looked between their twin bellies, almost identical in shape, size, and apparent texture. Then...unable to repress a little happy shiver of your own...you placed one hand on each of their stomachs, and began to work them over. Your fingers kneaded into the flesh, feeling the soft, supple surface of each titanic tummy. You trailed your fingertips over the plumpened sides and across the curve of their silky-smooth underbellies. You patted them, making both guts bounce and jiggle, and even drew figure-eights around their navel areas. Both of your friends sighed deeply and all but melted at your touch, their arms going limp, heads lolling back, jaws agape as they savored the sensations. “Oohhhhh...oh, no wonder you like doing this,” Ace drawled out. “This is...mmmm, this is AMAZING…” “That’s...ahhhh...mmmmm, that’s soothing,” Deuce crooned. “Thank you, Prefect…” “My pleasure, guys,” you blushed, giving their guts a couple of smacks. “My pleasure.” The pair just grinned and made happy humming sounds as they were pampered and spoiled. You couldn’t help but smile wider as you gave their greedy guts a couple of jiggles, hearing the thick soda-fueled stew slosh and splash and swirl about inside their bodies, so close to you… You were unaware of the fact that, as you worked on both bellies, the two opened one eye each, and looked to each other. Ace grinned wickedly...and Deuce smirked with faint impishness as well… ...And then… WHURLMPH. You let out a muffled yelp as, without warning, the pair shifted their postures...and now, both bellies were smushing agaisnt you, the warm curves of each swollen stomach heating up your already nearly-steaming cheeks. You blinked up shyly as you pushed against both guts to try and find some wiggle room...and your friends smiled down at you with almost identical expressions of mischievous affection. “Beter enjoy it while you can,” whispered Deuce. “Yeah,” chuckled Ace, and winked. “It’ll only be a week till we have our eating contest!” “Eating contest?” Deuce scowled. “Who said anything about that?” “Well...if you don’t think you have a chance at winning…” “I can eat you under a table any day!” “I dare you to prove it!” You sighed and shook your head, the soft flesh sliding across your own as you kneaded and caressed the bellies of your best friends. “Friends with benefits,” you were discovering, was a phrase with more than one definition… ...You hoped their argument wouldn’t go too quickly, though...right now, there was nowhere else you wanted to be, as you nuzzled against Ace’s stomach and patted Deuce’s with a smile. One of these days, you figured, you’d need to see a psychiatrist. But it was not this day.

The End

[pixieungerstories]

Quarentine - 1

They always say ‘buy the worst house on the best block that you can afford’ and god knows this place was a total shit hole.  1200 square feet on an overgrown lot surrounded by McMansions.  Hell, I paid less for the place that the land was worth.  I’m amazed someone hadn’t bulldozed the place years ago.

To make a long story short, I did not look a gift house horse in the mouth.

I mean, it wasn’t a total write off.  None of the windows were smashed.  There were mature fruit trees in the backyard.  If you ignored the weeds and rotting fruit, there was a lot of potential.  The plumbing was lead pipes and the electrical was knob and tube, but I know people and I could trade favours to get that replaced.  The foundations were good and the roof barely leaked.

I spent the summer camping in a tent in the back yard and slowly getting the place winterized enough that I could move it.

It was still a creepy ass house when I did.  It had a boiler.  I had no idea how to deal with that, but I was learning.  And I learned how to ignore the whistles, hissing and banging sounds that went with having a boiler.  The old rads were cast iron with pretty little details in the corners.

There were holes in the plaster, but I just ignored them.  It wasn’t worth fixing when I was going to gut the place and put up drywall eventually.  It just made it easier to get at the plumbing.

I started just living in the kitchen and ignoring the rest of the house.  I had disconnected the rest of the electrical and plumbing and was using that as a home base while I renovated outwards from there.

There is nothing quite as creepy as sleeping in a sleeping bag on what were probably asbestos tiles in an old house that makes the weird noises that old houses make.  I kept reminding myself that they only seemed louder than normal because the place was empty and there was nothing to muffle the sound.  The shrieking had to be the upstairs window that didn’t quite shut properly.

I had the feeling that something was watching me and prayed to god it wasn’t rats.

I was in this for the long haul.  Get up, shower at the gym, go to work, come home, renovate until it gets dark, shower at the gym, camp out in the kitchen.  Not exciting, but satisfying.  Let’s face it, this was the only way I was ever going to be able to afford a house.

When the work from home order came, I had to actually get a phone line installed so I could have internet access.  Me, my laptop and a kitchen table I rescued from the curbside a while back.

The creepy feeling was worse.  I told myself it had to be the isolation kicking in.  I skyped with my best friends at night to make up for it.  The power was still a bit dodgy and kept going out, but that’s what laptop batteries and cell phones are for, right?

I was sure the cough was from the dust.

The guy delivering groceries left them on the sidewalk instead of the porch.  It was fine.  I understood completely.  I hadn’t done much work on the outside of the building at all. 

I realized I was sneezing a bit when I started having to use toilet paper as kleenex.

I was fine.  I was young and healthy.  I didn’t have any sick days at work so I was determined to just push through.

I tried to get more rest.

I dreamed about something laying a cool hand on my forehead.

The grocery store was out of thermometers.

I mean, did it really matter if I had a fever?  I wasn’t leaving the house to share with anyone.

My cough got worse overnight.  I was vaguely aware of someone lifting me up and holding a cup of cool water to my lips.  I was so fucking thirsty. 

“You shouldn’t be here,” I mumbled.  “I don’t want you to get sick.”

“I won’t,” a rumbling voice assured me.

I didn’t remember making soup, but I jolted into awareness sitting at the table with a steaming bowl in front of me.  Chicken noodle out of a can.  It’s not that hard to make.  I’m sure I could add water and heat in my sleep.  Apparently, I just did.

I was so cold that night.  I don’t know where the extra blankets came from, but they were there in the morning.

I don’t know how I ordered a bed while I was sick, but it was there and on my credit card.  So was the mattress and sheets.  It must have been the fever talking when I ordered them.  I would not have picked out anything that old fashioned looking.

How did I get all this stuff up to the second floor bedroom?  I’m sure I don’t remember stripping the paint off the closet doors.   I must be losing my mind.  I slept, I ate, I stopped logging in at work.  I just needed to concentrate on getting better.

By the time I was able to stay awake for more than an hour at a time, the city was shut down.  I was confined to my house whether I liked it or not.  I was suddenly glad my fever addled brain had ordered a bed while I still could.  

The watched feeling was worse.  I ordered some rat traps with my groceries.  I didn’t catch anything.  They didn’t take the bait.  I swear I heard snickering when I checked them in the morning.  That was a new sound for the boiler to make.

“I am losing my mind,” I repeated to myself.  Then blushed when I realized I had said it aloud.  “And yes, I also talk to myself,” I added for good measure.  “At least it is some sound,” I muttered.  “I should turn on some music or something.”

Work was officially shut down but I still had the dumpster outback.  I spend my awake time cleaning out the other rooms.  The advantage of living in a construction zore was all the dust masks.  When I needed to actually go out, that might help.  In the meantime, I carefully sorted through the things the previous owners had left behind.  Some of it was just trash, but there were some old photographs, lost buttons, even a single antique earring.

“No chance of finding a pair, I bet.  Still this could be made over into a necklace or something.”  Shit.  I was talking to myself again, wasn’t I?

I still got tired easily.  I dreamed about my mom stroking my hair as I slept.

The footprints I couldn’t explain away.

I had taken down a section of wall and spent the day carrying out the chunks of plaster before microwaving a pizza pop and tucking in early.  In the morning there were footprints in the dust.  They weren’t mine.  They were huge and it was hard to believe they were human.  Weird long toes, with the claw tips a little in front were not what I was expecting.

That was the first time I had wanted to leave the house.

I grabbed my stuff and made it to the front yard before I was spotted by a passing patrol car and ordered back inside.  I had no idea how to explain that I thought there was some sort of monster living in my house.  I was shaking as I went back inside.

“Hello?”  I called from the doorway, ready to run.  I had no idea where I could even run to.  “Um…  Is anyone there?”  I don’t know what I was expecting.  “Hi?  Um ….  I bought the house, I didn’t know there was any … thing living here.  I have been trying to fix it up.”

“I know.”

Fuck.  The scratchy, rasping bass voice was not what I was expecting.  “I … uh…  I can go back to camping in the yard,” I suggested.

“No.”

I waited to hear if he (?) was going to say anything else.

Apparently not.

“Uh … no I can’t stay here?  Or no, you don’t even want me camping in the backyard?”

“If I didn’t want you here, I would have had many opportunities to get rid of you.”

Shit.  That wasn’t ominous or threatening at all.

With a low chuckle the voice asked, “Did you mean to say that out loud?”

I froze and tried to remember what I had said.  Oh.  “No, that was an accident.  I’m not used to having anyone around to hear me.”

“I always hear you.”

I closed the door and went out to sit in the garden for a moment to think about that.  I ended up pacing, swearing and wishing for a cigarette.  I hadn’t smoked in years.    The sun started to go down and the bugs came out.  I was being eaten alive outside.  Going inside was scary but he was right.  He had lots of time to …

I flung open the door.  “Did you order furniture on my credit card?”  I demanded.

The laughter that rang out was a whole other level of creepy.  I shivered and thought about going back outside.  The door pulled itself closed behind me.  I spun to look at it and didn’t see anything.  I could hear something breathing. I turned again.  Nothing.

“If we are both going to live here, can we at least agree on some ground rules?”

“Like what?” was almost purred in my ear.  Looking around wildly, I still couldn’t see anything.

I was shaking now.  “Is there a way for you to be less scary so I don’t have a heart attack?” I squeaked.

There was nothing but silence.  Still my sense of the presence suggested it was gone.

I didn’t sleep that night.  I would just start to nod off then jerk myself awake and look wildly around the room.  I never saw anything.

Six am, my alarm went off and I could smell coffee.

All the dust had been swept up.

“Hello?” I whispered.

Nothing.  I had coffee and cereal and tried not to think about my surprise roommate.  I was so tired, I passed out at my computer in the kitchen at some point that morning, only to wake in bed upstairs in the afternoon.  “I don’t want you to touch me while I’m sleeping,” I mumbled, painfully aware that there was dick all I could do to stop it.

“Alright,” the voice said, coming from somewhere in the direction of the closet.  “But don’t fall asleep at the table then.”

I breathed a faint sigh of relief.  I wasn’t expecting the next part.

“You need to eat something now.  You are still recovering.”

There was a can of soup heating on the stove.  My breakfast dishes were gone.  I found them clean and dry in the cupboard.  “Thank you,” I whispered.  He didn’t reply.  As I ate lunch, I was psyching myself into going upstairs to look in the closet.  The door had been painted shut when I got the house, but at some point had been stripped down to the bare wood.

I hadn’t worked up the nerve by the time I was done eating.  Or washing and drying the dishes.  I found myself at the bottom of the stairs staring up at the second floor.  Did I really want to see what was in that closet?

No.

But it would be better to look during the light of day.

Eventually, I made it up there.  I put my hand on the knob and tried to turn it.  It didn’t budge.

“You want rules?” the voice growled behind me.  I spun, there was nothing there.  “Do not open that door.  Do not come into my space.”

I went from trembling from nerves to bolting down the stairs in an instant.  I nearly tripped, but felt something - him? - catch me and set me on my feet.

“Careful,” he purred.

I spent the rest of the day in the garden again.  I was still out there when the sun went down and the back light turned on.  Then the kitchen light and for a moment I could see something outlined against the antique curtains I hadn’t replaced in the kitchen.  I tried to remind myself that he wasn’t necessarily that big.  He might just be closer to the light and casting a bigger shadow.

I didn’t believe it, but I tried.

I crept back into the house like a scared child who wasn’t sure how angry their parents were going to be after they had done something wrong.  I turned on all the lights on the main floor and stayed in the kitchen away from the stairs.

“Planning on staying up all night?”

I jumped.  “How are you always behind me?”

“I live in the shadows.  Go to bed.”

“Um…  I was thinking, that should be your room, really.  Your closet.  You picked out the bed.  I can just camp down -”

“No.  Go to bed.”

“Do you really think I’m going to be able to sleep in a room with a closet that must not be opened?  I have read Blue Beard, you know.”

“So have I.  The wife gets the house and lives happily ever after.”

“The last wife does,” I pointed out.  “The first dozen or so didn’t.”

He chuckled at that.  “We made a deal, remember?”

“Are you teasing me?  What deal?”

“I don’t touch you in your sleep.  You don’t sleep in the kitchen anymore.”

“How big are you?”

The lights flickered and went off.

“Do you want to see me?”  he purred, so close that I could feel his breath on my neck.

“Not in the dark,” I squeaked.

“Go to bed.”  

The light snapped back on, leaving me blinking.

I spent the night sitting on the bed with my back pressed against the headboard trying to see the whole room at one.  Eventually, I fell asleep.

My alarm did not go off at six.  It had been turned off.  The coffee was ready but not turned on when I went down stairs.  The air smelled faintly of solder.  There was a post-it stuck to the coffee maker.  Fine copperplate handwriting told me:

I have replaced the plumbing

I stared at it dumbly.  I had replaced the plumbing to the kitchen sink and the downstairs powder room and had been washing out of the sink since I had been forced to stay home.  The only other plumbing was down to the washing machine in the cellar and the upstairs bathroom.  I pushed the button on the coffee maker and slowly crept upstairs.

Sure enough the stack of copper pipe waiting in the other bedroom was gone. 

Well, not gone.  I could see it installed through the holes in the walls.  I turned on the tap to the sink and sure enough, I had water.  I now had an upstairs, working bathroom with a clawfoot tub.

And no walls.

“I don’t like the idea of you watching me bathe,” I called out.  Then I felt like an idiot because if whatever it was had voyeur tendencies, it could have been watching me for months.  I tried all the taps and the toilet.  Everything worked.

“Thank you,” I mumbled, unsure if I was talking to myself.

“You’re welcome.”  It was the least creepy, most normal thing I had heard from him.

----

When I got back downstairs, there still wasn’t coffee but there was a new note:

Humans who do not sleep start to hallucinate

I crumbled it up, threw it across the room and jabbed the on switch on the coffee maker.  Nothing happened.  I growled as I plugged it in.  The power went out.

“Oh come on!  Withholding coffee is cruel and unusual punishment!”

“Sleep.”  It sounded like the whole house had murmured that last bit.

I wish I could say I handled it gracefully, but I didn’t.  I stomped back up to the bedroom like a petulant child.

I woke to bright sunlight streaming in through the window.  The house was quiet and it felt empty for the first time in days.  I had a bath and washed my hair and I felt better than I had in days too.  Clean and dry and dressed, I bounced into the kitchen to try and turn on the coffee again only to see my laptop snap shut.

It was with a lot of trepidation that I opened it.  I was expecting a ridiculous online purchase which is why I stared dumbly at the screen unable to process what I was seeing.

It was a CGI woman with her hands tied to something over her head being railed by a monster who was fingering her clit with one hand and fondling her breasts with the other while her belly distended in rhythm with his thrusts.

“Ugh!  Dude!  You can NOT watch porn on my laptop!” I shrieked as I frantically tried to close the window.

“Would you rather I watch you?” he asked calmly from somewhere to the left of me.

I breathed out a shaky breath.  “OK.  Let’s talk about private browser windows and how not to get a computer virus.”

When I got to the end of my tentative explanation, I asked, “Do you need … some alone time?”

There was another house shaking howling laugh.

“Is that a yes or a no?”

“You need to eat.”

That brought up a whole other issue.  “Do you?  Eat I mean.  Do you eat?  What do you eat?”

“Don’t worry about me.  I am not going to eat you.  Unless you ask nicely.”

I blushed even further but got out a pan and a skillet meal from the fridge.

I spend the rest of the afternoon weeding the garden.  I came in when it got dark, heated up my leftovers from lunch and tried to figure out what to do with myself.  The nap had meant that I wasn’t tired for the first time in days.

I wondered what he would do if I watched a movie.  I hunted through the cupboards and found a bag of microwave popcorn from before the virus started.  Right! I thought.  Bowl of popcorn, a movie, skype with a few friends.  Pretend none of this was happening.

I wasn’t surprised when the lights went out.  That was just a thing now.  My computer was still illuminating a bubble around me and B99 was still hilarious.

I wasn’t expecting the bed to dip next to me.  That once again raised the question of how to deal with him around others.  I hit the mute button.  “What are you doing?” I asked icily.

“Not touching you.  What are you eating?”

“Human food.”

“Hmmm.”

I unmuted my computer to answer Penny’s question about how stir crazy I was going.

“12/10 on the looney toons scale,” I offered.

She just laughed.

All of the popcorn was gone.

“Ah hell.”

“What’s wrong?” Penny asked.

“All my popcorn is gone,” I grumbled.  I didn’t add that I had more than half a bowl left a moment ago.  Not eating me, I reminded myself.

“That sucks.  Need to pause and get more?”

“I don’t have anymore.”

She just laughed, “But do you still have toilet paper and hand sanitizer?”

I chuckled, “Toilet paper, at least.”

“I should go.  It’s getting late,” she said with a yawn.

“Yeah.  Good night.”  After Penny signed off, I just let Netflix autoplay the next episode.

“Do you need to sleep?” The whisper seemed to come from the direction of the closet but the bed was still dipped under his weight on my other side.

My heart leapt to my throat.  “How many of you are there?”

“Just me,” he purred too close to my ear.  I flung myself away from him and toppled out of bed.  Two hands caught me.

Two other hands caught my laptop.

I stared as it was placed back on the bed a little way in front of me.  The hands on my arms were cool and smooth.  “What are you?”

“I am me.  I have not asked your name.  You will not ask mine.”

“My name is on the mail.  And my credit card.  You know my name,”  I pointed out keeping my eyes locked on the screen, fighting the urge to look around.

“Nonetheless.”

This wasn’t going to work, but I had to try.  “I would like to be alone now.”

The bed shifted as the weight was removed from the side.  The black shadows that could be fingers moved from my computer.  The voice said, “Good night” from the direction of the closet.  

I sat frozen.  “In the morning, I’m moving the bed to another room.”

“Why?”

“Because the closet is yours and it’s scary being here with you,” I admitted.

“I have never done anything to harm you.”

“You scare the shit out of me multiple times a day.”

There was a long pause before he replied, “And yet you haven’t left.”

“The city is on lock down.  I can’t leave.”

“Hmm.”  

I jumped as my laptop snapped shut.  I fumbled in the dark trying to find it on my bed, “What are you doing?” I demanded.

“Taking this downstairs.  I will not bother you tonight.”

“What-” I started to say, then snapped my mouth shut as the realization that this may be his ‘alone time’.

This time the “Good night,” came from the bedroom door.

In the morning the only thing in my browsing history was netflix.  This was less comforting since I had shown him how to clear the cache.  I told myself at least the keyboard wasn’t sticky.

[mimi-cee-hq]

Every Season - Kyoutani x Reader

Pairing: Kyoutani x f!Reader

Summary: Kyoutani finally introduces Y/n to the team. When they all comment on how he got such a sweet and innocent girlfriend, Kyoutani lets out a snort. A cute and funny getting together story of different kisses throughout the years and seasons.

Genre and Tropes: Cute childhood friends fluff!

Words: 2,218

This is for the July HQWN monthly prompt event. I'm using the International Kissing Day prompt.

Author's Notes: This is a match-up story for an anon. Thanks to @kingkags for beta reading the first half of the story. :) 

To anon, I don't think I captured your personality very well because I only write PG. loll. I tried to keep the main aspects of your description, so I hope you still like it. >.<

*****

“I still can’t believe that’s Mad Dog’s girlfriend.”

There were crackles from the meat cooking at the neighbouring table. Y/n lit the barbeque for their own table as she welcomed them. The entire team was curious to see what sort of girl Kyoutani was dating so Yahaba and Watari decided on her family's restaurant when they organized a graduation party for the third years.

Y/n smiled at the boys, “What would you like to order?”

The large bow in her hair bounced as she nodded, taking their orders. After she went through the list she wrote, confirming their preferences, she pushed up her round glasses with her knuckles before she left to process the order.

After Oikawa finished gawking at her, he turned to Kyoutani and asked, “How the heck did you end up with such a sweet and innocent girlfriend?”

Kyoutani, just when he was about to sip his drink, let out a snort instead. They were lucky. If the drink was in his mouth, it would have ended up in their faces.

*****

A tiny young girl stood in front of Kyoutani in the living room of her house. “Kyoutani, this is Y/n,” her mother introduced her to the five-year-old boy.

Y/n gave him a sweet smile and waved at him. “It’s nice to meet you, Kyo-chan.” The black bow in her hair slightly shifted as she gave him a small polite nod.

Kyoutani jumped back a couple of feet, clutching his mom’s shirt once he was at her side. He gave a low growl as he glared at her. He had a feeling he should be weary of her.

“Ooo,” Y/n cooed. “Can we keep him?” she asked her mom, giggling.

“What?”

“He’s so cute!” Y/n told her. “He’s like a puppy!”

“He’s not a dog!” Y/n’s mom scolded her.

Kyoutani continued to scowl at Y/n. When his mom left his side, he tensed up, and retreated to the far side of a couch. He gritted his teeth and sat with all fours on a cushion, not allowing his eyes to leave Y/n’s even as their mothers walked out of the room.

Y/n ran to her well-worn toy box and stuck her head in. After she searched through it, she told him, “Look, Kyo-chan!” She held up a bright red leaf. “I have one for you too!” she said, revealing a second one. She continued to share about how she picked them up a few days ago when she marvelled at the trees turning into various shades of reds, yellows, and oranges.

Kyoutani, with his hands still tense, inched closer towards Y/n. Once beside her, he took the leaf from her hand. Staring at the intricate veins on the red leaf, he noted that it was whole and not bent or damaged. His eyes grew as he stared in awe, his scowl finally disappearing and his eyebrows relaxed.

“It’s pretty—,” he started to say. But just as he tilted his head up to look at Y/n, her face was right in front of his. And then she stole a kiss from him.

She giggled.

Kyoutani jumped back, cheeks red and ears flaring. Seeing his reaction, Y/n fell on the floor laughing.

Clenching his teeth, he knew he should have trusted his instincts and shouldn’t have let his guard down. He wouldn’t be tricked again.

“Mommy! Kyo-chan bit me!”

*****

“It’s your turn,” Kyoutani told Y/n with a smirk. He was one pair of cards ahead of her in their game of Go Fish, but she didn't give up yet.

Y/n’s mom was watching the two kids play through the opened sliding door to their backyard. A cool spring breeze would sometimes enter the kitchen as she prepared some kimchi for a future meal. She could see the two sitting on an outdoor mat as they continued taking turns removing a card from the other’s hand.

Now at eight-years-old, Kyoutani would often be at Y/n’s house whenever his parents needed a babysitter. He still didn’t exactly like Y/n, but he didn’t have much of a choice.

At first he wouldn’t even talk to her. He would sit at the couch, cautious of Y/n’s every move, waiting for his parents to come back. But Y/n’s parents were kind to him. They noticed Kyoutani’s discomfort so sometimes her dad would take him out of the house. Some days it would be for ice cream. Other days they’d grab a burger. He even brought Kyoutani to a volleyball game once. But over this past year, Kyoutani finally got along with Y/n - or at least enough to get through a couple of games.

Kyoutani eyed at the two cards in Y/n’s hand, wearing his perpetual scowl. He licked his lips just before he grabbed a card from Y/n. He placed his pair of cards on the mat with a smirk. He won.

“You cheated!” Y/n accused him. Kyoutani rolled his eyes, accustomed with Y/n’s inability to lose. “I demand a rematch!”

“Hmph,” Kyoutani crossed his arms, scowling as he looked away.

Y/n’s mom sighed and shook her head. “When are they finally going to get along,” she commented to herself.

“We do get along!” Y/n told her mom. As if to prove her point, she quickly leaned towards Kyoutani to give him a peck on his cheek.

He flinched and shuffled away from Y/n, grimacing at her gesture. She laughed at his reaction as usual.

“What did I tell you about kissing Kyoutani!” her mom scolded her. “You’re torturing the poor boy!”

“But I only kissed his cheek this time!”

As Y/n continued to argue with her mom, Kyoutani attempted to scratch the cooties off his cheek, unaware of the red hue on his face.

*****

Kyoutani got out of bed after hearing pebbles tapping his bedroom window. He pushed the curtains open to see Y/n below, standing in front of his house. After nearly seven years of knowing her, she still does things that he could never predict. He groaned as he watched her breathe into her palms and rub them together. There was no snow on the ground, yet it was cold enough to see her breath. Y/n wore earmuffs which matched the signature black bow in her hair.

When he let her in, she threw off her scarf and earmuffs, letting out a big yawn before curling up on his living room couch.

“Why are you here when you're so tired?” Kyoutani asked her.

“I stayed up last night to finish up that history project with Kimiko,” she replied, not quite answering his question. “I shouldn’t have paired up with her,” she laughed. “She thought I was smart because I worked hard. But I thought she was smart because she hung out with the smart kids.”

Kyoutani smirked, taking a seat at her feet as she lay on the couch.

“Turns out we both share a brain cell,” she giggled. “Kimiko is fun but she’s too much of a clown. We get so distracted when we’re together. I don't know if we'll get an A." She groaned. "Remind me to never do a project with her again.”

“Never do a project with her again,” Kyoutani plainly told her with a smirk.

Y/n rolled her eyes and then jabbed his side with her toes. Kyoutani jerked away from her feet and shoved them away.

Y/n sat up beside him and hugged her legs. She turned to look at him and said, “Don’t you wish we were in the same class so we could study together?” 

Kyoutani feigned disgust at the thought.

“Hm?” she prodded as she batted her eyes at him. When she leaned in closer to him, pretending to kiss him, Kyoutani pushed her face away with his whole palm. She pouted, then got up to finally open the paper gift bag she brought with her.

“I have something for you.” She pulled out her notebook, pieces of coloured paper peeking out of the edges. She stood in front of him, revealing the notebook’s cover. Y/n had pasted together a picture of the two of them with the words “Happy 12th birthday” written underneath in her handwriting.

Kyoutani blinked a couple of times, not knowing what to say. His shoulders relaxed, still staring at the scrapbook.

“I know it’s still a few hours until your birthday, but I didn’t want to miss it—”

Kyoutani wrapped his arms around her. He felt her tense up before she started to pat his head.

Kyoutani had a rough day. He heard his teammates talking behind his back again. He didn't care to be their friends, but he at least longed for a team where he felt like he was wanted.

Y/n kissed his hair and hugged his head. Kyoutani sighed, deciding this was enough for now. He could be a lone wolf with volleyball knowing he didn't have to be one with her.

*****

Textbooks, pens and notebooks covered the kitchen table. Y/n dropped her head on her notes, exhausted from studying.

“I’m just going to close my eyes for a bit,” she told Kyoutani. “Wake me up if I actually fall asleep.”

“Why don’t you just go home?” he replied as he scrunched his brows, still glaring at the words in his textbook.

“Because I'll fail the test tomorrow.”

Kyoutani glanced at Y/n, her necklace catching his eye. Its pendant dangled as she stirred with her eyes still closed.

“Where’s your uniform's bow?”

“I threw it out.”

“What?”

“I know,” she yawned. “But it doesn't match this bow,” she said, pointing to her hair. “And I like this necklace.”

“Whatever.” Kyoutani didn’t bother. He knew the teachers would let her get away with it anyway. Even if they asked about her modification, she would just claim she lost it.

Kyoutani checked his phone. It was July 6, one of the days Y/n used as an excuse to flirt with him. He frowned, knowing that lately, he wasn't the only person she teased.

They entered high school that year. With new faces, students were eager to get to know each other. Some looked to make new friends while others searched for dating potentials. So there was one guy who made a pass on Y/n, and as they got to know each other, Y/n started to tease and flirt with him too.

Whenever Kyoutani saw them together, he shoved the guy aside and took Y/n with him. Y/n would prod him, asking if he was jealous. He denied it every time. He knew she wasn't serious when she flirted. She just liked getting a reaction.

Like with him.

He sighed at his unrequited feelings, pondering the pointlessness of them. It was pathetic. Gazing at Y/n shut eyelids, he wondered if he should put his feelings to rest too.

“I’m awake!” Y/n exclaimed, popping her head up and causing Kyoutani to flinch. He relaxed when she plopped her head back on the table. She turned to Kyoutani, staring at him. Kyoutani blinked a few times, wondering if she was going to say something. She did.

“Kyo-chan, you’re so pretty.”

Kyoutani rolled his eyes, knowing she was in her loopy mode and definitely too sleepy. “You should go home now.”

“Noooo~ I don’t want to.”

He rubbed his head, not knowing what to do with her. “Ugh, just go already,” he complained, grabbing her arm.

“But I want to stay with you,” she replied. He scoffed, shoving her arm back to her, before she continued. “I love you, Kyo-chan.”

Kyoutani choked up a bit. Did she really mean that? He studied her eyes, realizing she was serious. But his doubts still lingered, hesitant to reply.

He went for it. He didn't care anymore. He took this opening, hoping to keep his feelings alive and awake.

So he swooped in to give her a deep kiss, finally releasing the months - no, probably years - of longing for her. And she returned it.

After they broke apart, she commented with a smirk, "Did you remember it was international kissing day?"

"No, I forgot," he lied, going for another kiss.

*****

"I can't believe Yahaba got sick and missed this," whispered Oikawa.

"Yeah," Iwaizumi replied with a smirk. "He was the one who was curious about her the most."

Kyoutani watched Y/n as she came back to their table. She took the seat beside him and snuggled up against him when he placed his arm around her. She puckered her lips, asking for a kiss. Kyoutani gave a snort and rolled his eyes. But upon seeing her frown, he decided to give her a peck anyway.

"Ewww...," Hanamaki teased them.

"PDA! PDA!" Matsukawa chanted.

Kyoutani glared at them while Y/n giggled at his reaction like usual.

*****

Bonus/ Preview

Their team's manager fidgeted at the table, glancing at her wrist after scanning the restaurant. "Kindaichi," she whispered, nudging him. "Where's Kunimi?"

"He said his mom needed him for something."

"Oh," was all that came out of her lips. It seemed like she would have to wait until the new school year to see him again.

*****

Author's Notes:

I hope you liked it. :) I can't believe I was able to make a cute story for Kyoutani. lollll.

Also, their team manager is Y/n from WWYTF SMAU (completed) and Kimiko is Y/n from my Yahaba fic. Now a bunch of my fics are in the same world because I thought it would be fun. lol! (FYI, that wasn't the real reason why Kunimi wasn't there.)

*****

Matchup request description from anonymous: (For the longest time, I didn't know what to do with this. lol. I'm sorry I took so long to write this.)

Hi ^^ I like your writing and saw you were taking match up requests. I'm a small korean girl under 5ft. I have black wavy hair that is barely above my shoulders but I tie it back half up half down style with a black bow uwu. I also have wispy bangs with a round face and a small nose. I have round circle glasses that fall down cause of my small nose. In my spare time I do art. I usually paint, scrapbook, and edit. If I'm with friends I play card games but I get kinda competitive 💫

💫When I get comfortable with someone I start to become more of myself. In school I work really hard so people assume I'm smart. I also watch my words so people think I'm sweet and innocent. That's the complete opposite with my friends. I tend to flirt with them so I end up saying sexual things. And I won't hesitate to put my friends in pain by speaking uwu. With my 0 braincells I decided I would do anything almost anything for the aesthetic. Breaking dress code is one of them. 💫

Taglist: @dorkyama @the-black-birb @hqprotectionsquad @nagichi-kenma @moonaaluna @muffins-puffins (let me know if you want to be added or removed)

[commander-diomika]

(Click to Read From the Beginning) Part 6 - Pairing: Zolf Smith/Oscar Wilde Word Count: 4700 Additional Tags: Slow Burn, 18-Month Time Gap (Rusty Quill Gaming), Opposites Attract, Trans Male Character, Forced Outing, Pining, Additional Warnings In Author's Note

Summary: New intel from Curie brings new rules about the quarantine process. This puts Zolf and Wilde in an awkward position. A/N - The forced outing depicted in this chapter isn’t through any malicious intent, but rather circumstances outside character control. There are no transphobic sentiments portrayed in this series, internalised or direct, but some of Wilde’s caution around disclosing indicates that this is a world where transphobia exists. These things could make for an uncomfortable experience for some readers.

The few times that Zolf went out on missions alone, usually on fruitless attempts to scout the Shoin Institute, it had been Barnes that welcomed him back and locked him in. Zolf didn’t mind isolation stretches, but he didn’t love that Wilde kept himself absent for the entire duration. He understood why, but there was something unsettling about coming home, and yet having to wait for what he felt like was the proper homecoming of being reunited with Wilde. But he coped with it just fine.

When the invitation from Curie came for a meeting, and specified that only one person was welcome, Zolf fought hard for it to be him.

“You’ve never even met Curie.” Wilde pointed out, voice level despite the heat in Zolf’s tone. “It makes far more sense for me to go, and someone needs to stay here.”

“At least take Barnes with you,” Zolf countered, knowing he was being ridiculous but unable to help it. He’d known that this time was coming but that didn’t make it come any easier. “He don’t have to come with you to meet her, but he can keep you safe.”

Wilde’s eyes narrowed. “I don’t need a bodyguard.”

Zolf crossed his arms, stymied. It wasn’t that he was overprotective. But he couldn’t squash the memory of Wilde’s face, slippery with blood beneath frantic fingers, or the haunted look in Wilde’s eyes when he emerged from isolation.

“I won’t even be gone long, Zolf. Curie is going to meet me in Hiroshima.”

Zolf opened his mouth to argue further, and was stopped by Wilde closing his eyes, looking genuinely tired for a moment. Normally Wilde relished a bit of verbal sparring and the two of them fought as easily as they breathed. But something about the way he sighed gave Zolf pause.

When Wilde next spoke, his voice was soft, a rare pleading in his tone. “I know, Zolf. I know you don’t like it. I don’t like it, but I have been looking at these same four walls for months. I am sick of not being a productive member of this team.”

“WHAT!” Zolf exploded. “You are the most productive member! Me n’ Barnes n’ Carter would be nothin’ without-”

“You know what I mean!” Wilde said, frustrated. Zolf hardly ever saw him like this. Anger was an emotion that Wilde kept locked away, just like his fear. “I’m sick of people treating me like I’m some sort of china doll, just because I can’t cast anymore!”

Zolf spluttered. “You’re not- we don’- nobody said-”

Wilde raised his hand. “I appreciate your concern, Zolf, I really do. But I’m going on this mission. And I am asking you-” Wilde drew a deep breath in through his nose “-to trust me.”

Well. That had been played like a trump card. Zolf felt something in him release, the angry churn of his stomach dissipating. If there was any truth left in the world at this point, it was that Zolf trusted Wilde.

He nodded.

---

As was protocol, on the evening he returned, Zolf, Barnes and Carter made themselves scarce until Wilde was safely in the anti-magic chamber, not detouring to any other rooms of the inn. They had arrangements for how to handle if a returning party member didn’t head straight for what they’d all started calling “the box,” but thankfully it was yet to come up. Zolf headed in after, with the keys to the cell, fresh clothes, and a bowl of prawn gyoza in hand.

“How’s Hiroshima?” Zolf asked, locking up and passing through the food.

Wilde didn’t respond, just levelled Zolf with a flat glare.

Zolf shrugged. “You can talk to me, an’ if at the end of the week you’re compromised, I’ll just assume that anythin’ you said was false intel, yeah? Until then,” Zolf pulled up the chair that sat outside and cell and settled it. “There’s no harm in it going this way,” he swept his hand from Wilde’s direction toward himself. “I just won’t tell you anything you don’t already know.” He, quite simply, was not going to take no for an answer. He wasn’t leaving Wilde alone with his thoughts for a week.

Wilde managed to look disapproving for a moment more, then a little smirk slipped through the veneer. “I find it difficult to believe you know anything I don’t, Smith.”

“Oh, sod off.”

“I can’t help it if I just happen to be the brains of the operation.” Wilde gave a small, defeated chuckle, and sat on the cot. He started undoing the anti-magic cuffs and massaging his ankles. Sometimes when there was no one using the box, Wilde would come sleep down here just for a chance to take them off for a little while.

“Hiroshima is well enough, but Curie says Cairo is a mess. The sandstorms have been giving it absolute hell. Anyone who doesn’t still need to be there isn’t, though it’s still seeing a lot of refugee traffic.” He picked up the food Zolf had passed through.

“From Europe?”

Wilde nodded between popping gyoza into his mouth. “These are very good, you know.”

Zolf waved a hand. “Hiromi’s been giving me lessons. She’s much nicer about it than her husband.”

Wilde updated Zolf on Curie’s operation. When he mentioned that she had been gifted the old Tahan estate, Zolf’s gut squeezed. It had been… almost over a year since he’d seen Hamid, and months since they’d last heard from him and the others. It was almost impossible to think that they were still alive, but without bodies or news, there was no way forward. Both men were left lingering in ambivalence, hope laid thick and heavy over a grief that couldn’t surface.

Wilde finished his food and frowned. He spoke more hesitantly than before. “There is one more thing I should tell you. We need to update some of the protocols.”

“Yeh? Howso?”

“The blue vein rumours? About the infected? Confirmed. More importantly, Curie says in every instance of a double agent, the blue veins have appeared on the body first, not the face or hands.” Wilde was overexplaining in a way that was unlike him. “In addition to the quarantine, being on the lookout for behavioural changes, Curie also recommended we do,” Wilde hesitated, again in a most un-Wilde-like fashion, “…visual inspections of those in quarantine. Thorough ones.” He fluttered nervous hands up and down his torso to illustrate.

As Zolf slowly turned over the implications, Wilde turned to rummage through his bag and withdraw papers. He gestured for Zolf to come take them through the slot.

“Reports, signed and sealed, detailing it all.”

Zolf took them, still absorbing what Wilde had said. He didn’t look through the bars. If he had, he would have seen something cautious and watchful in Wilde’s eyes.

The silence stretched on too long between them.

“Anyway, if you don’t mind, I am going to get some sleep. The boat from here to the mainland isn’t exactly a luxury cruiser, and I am exhausted.” Wilde flumped down onto the cot to punctuate the point.

“I… yeh. I’ll go have a look through these reports.” As Zolf walked away from the box, he paused in the door. “I’m glad you’re back,” he said. I’m glad you’re safe, he didn’t add.

“Of course you are,” Wilde replied without missing a beat. “This place must be dreadfully dull without me to liven it up for you.”

Zolf rolled his eyes and headed upstairs.

Having read through Curie’s reports, the next day Zolf went back to Wilde’s cell with his heart in his mouth.

Naked inspections. It’s just one thing after another in this brave new fucking world, isn’t it, he thought, agitated.

The whole situation was ridiculous. What was he so worried about? After everything they’d been through there was a certain trust, an ease between them now. What was a bit of nudity in the face of all that?

He was only feeling nervy about it because he was sure that Wilde was going to be a dick about it, in his usual style. Getting under Zolf’s skin hadn’t stopped being a hobby of Wilde’s, and this whole situation set the stage for his insufferable needling.

Wilde stood quickly as Zolf entered. He’d changed out of the clothes he’d travelled to Hiroshima in, and was now wearing long dark pants and his favourite yukata, the one with green and pink floral pattern.

“I read through all the reports,” Zolf began.

“We might as well get this over with,” Wilde said at the same time, and then laughed a little manically.

Zolf took his seat, waited for Wilde to quiet, then continued. “Curie also recommended we start askin’ people to tell us stories of things that only the other would know. Code words aren’t enough because it’s more about how you do the retellin’ than it is about the information.” Wilde’s face relaxed at the notion of delaying what came next.

“I’ll get you to tell me about… tell me how you remember our first meetin’, then.” Zolf said. Since all the other people who were there are either dead or presumed dead, he didn’t want to add.

Wilde launched into an explanation of flaming notepads, blood noses, slipping into his storyteller shoes with relief. It was nice to listen to him perform, even if thinking about Hamid and Sasha was depressing.

“And,” Wilde wound up, “I just happened to linger by the door and overhear you mention something about my bum, of all things. Now, if you’ll do me the favour of telling what that was, and we can all move forward assured of each other’s memory, though probably not their integrity.”

Oh, curses. He hadn’t thought Wilde had still been around for those comments. He crossed his arms and frowned loudly.

“Come now Zolf, you’ve already said it, you can’t take it back now.” Exactly as Zolf had suspected, Wilde seemed to be delighting in causing Zolf discomfort once again, whilst he slipped back into his old, familiar smarm. Wilde wrapped his hands around the bars of the cell and bounced slightly on his toes.

“I said,” Zolf pinched the bridge of his nose. “I said it was very nice.” And he stood by it, but Wilde didn’t need to know that.

Wilde laughed, free and throaty, running his hand through his hair in a way that Zolf knew, if he had access to his magic, would be accompanied by a bawdy shimmer of sparkles. For a moment, things felt bright.

The energy snapped back. Wilde wasn’t performing for a party, he wasn’t needling Zolf for a laugh, he was locked up in a cell waiting to find out if he had an infection that would turn him into something unrecognizable and dangerous… Wilde dropped his hands from the adamantine, and the two of them fell silent.

“I can go get Barnes, if you’d prefer,” Zolf said with a useless gesture. Wilde was already shaking his head.

“What’s a bit of nudity between… friends.” Wilde asked, with a quizzical tilt of his head. His eyes were asking does friends really cover it anymore? Zolf didn’t have an answer.

Zolf didn’t know how to get this whole awkward scenario started, so he just waited, his mouth dry. There was something so grim in Wilde’s face, and Zolf didn’t understand. His obvious discomfort with the notion of watching Wilde undress should’ve delighted the man. It should have been ammunition.

As Wilde started on the ties of his yukata, for the briefest of moments, Zolf’s discomfort was replaced by a blistering anger at the absurdity of it all. All those moments he had wanted to be closer to Wilde, to touch his bare skin or to hold him… but he hadn’t asked for this. Between the two of them hung a nascent possibility. A possibility that Zolf was only just starting to acknowledge, and that deserved a chance to blossom.

That instead it should be forced to happen like this, through cell bars, was perversely unfair. To him. To Wilde. To the pair of them and all the ways that this could have been different.

Wilde paused, as if seeing the flash of anger in Zolf’s eyes. He spoke quietly, almost to himself. “Thinking about… hmph. The truth is rarely pure and never simple.” With that non sequitur, he disrobed, turning his body to drape the cloth over the cot.

As he turned back, Zolf was struck by a sudden realisation; he’d never seen Wilde with his shirt off. Never swum together, never seen him coming back from bathing with a towel around his waist. Even in the heat, Wilde always wore his shirt buttoned, his yukata firmly tied. Zolf swore he could see Wilde’s chest in his mind’s eye. It just made sense. Wilde had certainly seen Zolf’s chest; they’d been living in each other’s pockets for almost a year now and Zolf didn’t think much of it.

But no, because if he’d seen Wilde without the shirt, he would know that Wilde had a smattering of dark chest hair. And more scars on his torso than seemed right. The wounds from Douglas had torn two messy gashes near the ribs, and those scars were present as expected. But there were two more - slightly crescent shaped, uniform and well-healed - swooping across his chest just beneath flat nipples.

Surgical scars.

The air was knocked out of Zolf’s lungs. His body had grasped answers before his mind did. His thoughts felt sluggish, crawling, gasping to catch up, and when they did it was with the lurching realisation of just how unfair it was that they had been brought here, to this cell, to this grotesque scenario, against their will.

Wilde undid the drawstring of his pants and stepped out of them. Dark hair ran in a soft line from his navel down, fanning out to the triangle that dipped between his legs. His face was carefully blank, as he lifted his hands, palms up, in a sardonic “ta-dah” gesture.

Zolf was frozen inside his mind, as Wilde turned slowly on the spot.

He did have a fantastic arse, the perfect balance of muscular and plush, and once again Zolf was furious that any hint of eros in this had been utterly perverted.

Wilde turned back to face Zolf and raised his eyebrows in a silent question. Zolf nodded again, his mouth dry. Wilde dressed, not rushed but efficient.

They sat in silence for a time.

“You never told me,” was all Zolf could think of to say.

“Fantastically witty and incisive commentary from one Zolf Smith, yet again,” Wilde said, voice like acrid smoke. Nothing made Wilde bite like losing the upper hand.

“I’m- I’m sorry. I jus’, I’ll go-” Zolf tried to walk and turn at the same time and knocked into the stool, clanging it down to the floor. He righted it with hands that shook and headed for the stairs.

“Zolf!” Wilde called after him. “You don’t have to leave.”

Well. That was as close to begging as Wilde ever got.

Zolf returned to his stool, and re-joined the silence. Wilde sat on the cot, watching the close wall of the cell with a face that Zolf recognised; it was one of Wilde’s favourite expressions, deliberately mild, open, waiting. It gave away nothing and invited everything. For Wilde, it was safety.

Other people, people who didn’t know Wilde as well, might take that as an invitation to speak. Zolf wasn’t other people. He thought about all the times he’d stumbled through something awkward, with good intentions but clumsy words. He had no idea how to proceed, other than it was probably wise to wait, and let Wilde find words first.

“Don’t feel bad about me not telling you.” Wilde said eventually. “It usually doesn’t come up, unless I’m sleeping with someone. Even then you’d be impressed at what can be achieved with creative use of props, dim lighting and a bit of magic.” He trailed his hand wistfully through the air, an impotent somatic component.

Zolf continued to wait, to leave the man space. Zolf wasn’t the one who’d been stripped, forced into a deeply personal disclosure without plan or intent.

“It’s not that I’m ashamed, you see. It's more… it feels like handing over a weapon, and I try to avoid that if I can. And well, I’m usually not in someone’s acquaintance long enough to feel bad about keeping it a secret.” There was an apology tucked between the words, and Zolf nodded even though Wilde wasn’t watching

He paused to run his thumb over the facial scarring, once, twice. “Bosie knew.”

Wilde let the silence stretch on long enough that Zolf felt like he had to speak or he would never stop thinking about skidding through Wilde’s blood on a cold stone floor. “You… you used to use your magic for it, righ’?”

Wilde barked out a harsh laugh. “Oh yes, for practically all of it! It was the reason I got so good at glamours! Back in Cairo I… I suspected that an anti-magic chamber or cuffs might halt the hexing, but I couldn’t, you see? I’d been doing it for so long. Everyone knew me as a man.” He shrugged, saying obviously with his shoulders. “I couldn’t go back.”

Zolf examined Wilde’s face. He was still carefully keeping his gaze on the cell wall. He still had that mild expression on his face, as though they discussed what to have for lunch, not one of the lowest points of his life. But he didn’t seem upset, so Zolf pressed on. “What happened?”

“Oh I…” he huffed a small laugh. “I got lucky. Turns out Grizzop already knew. I don’t think I reacted quite right when he punched me in the crotch.” Now something like genuine fondness crept into Wilde’s voice. “He suspected what might happen if I had to stop casting; he helped smooth things over. I was in no position to be fending for myself at that juncture, I had let the curse go on too long.” Wilde looked at his hands. “I will always be grateful to him.”

Wilde sounded like a man who knew, without a doubt, that the object of his gratitude was dead.

“Once it became clear the cuffs were going to become a permanent accessory, he set things up with the Cult of Aphrodite for me to have surgery and for them to supply the right potions. They have all the gear and know-how, of course. Not everyone in my position is a caster.”

Something else clicked in place for Zolf as he pondered the technicalities of non-magical surgery.

“Wait a minute. You were still recovering from that when we joined back up, weren’t you?”

Wilde’s brow crinkled as he considered timelines. “That’s right. Scarring needs to heal with almost no magical intervention, otherwise it’s back to square one. So it was… quite painful, to be quite honest. And compared to magical healing, the process drags on and on.”

Wilde smoothed a hand over his robe-clad chest. “I like it better this way now. No more binding my chest just in case, though I try to be careful about who sees the scars.” His voice was light, that faux-levelness starting to fade and he just, talked. Wilde was relieved, Zolf realised with a start. He wanted to tell Zolf about these things.

“It’s nice to just … be myself. Even at the end of day when I’m tired and can’t cast anymore.” And he finally looked at Zolf and smiled. Not a smirk or grin, just a completely open smile that welcomed Zolf into his joy instead of belittling or declaring victory with it. Even with the scar, sitting in a dim cell, he looked radiant.

As Zolf went to smile back, he felt his face wobble. This - Wilde smiling, confiding, being easy and honest with him - it was a better outcome than he could have hoped for. He felt the sudden bloom of Wilde’s smile in his chest, the warmth of the man’s trust.

But this was merely day one of seven, and it was still terrifyingly possible that the man who sat across from him was not Wilde at all. So Zolf’s smile twisted as it appeared on his face, and he didn’t reply, allowing them to lapse back into silence.

Day 2

“Wouldn’ it be- well not easier but less, I dunno- to just wait and do one inspection on the last day?” Zolf asked. He’d brought down breakfast and the paper, and they’d sat quietly as they ate; Wilde had finished eating and was starting on the motions of undressing.

“Zolf. My dear.” Wilde cocked his head in that patronising way that he did when he thought Zolf had said something legitimately dumb. “If I am reading your intentions correctly, your plan for the week is to eschew all your other jobs to waste away at my door-” Zolf opened his mouth to argue and Wilde simply raised his voice and pressed on “-not that I am complaining, but if you truly are going to while away the days with me, and then on the final day, you find out I have been infected the whole time and have to kill me, how, pray tell, is that going to make you feel?”

Zolf snapped his mouth shut.

“Wouldn’t you rather know as soon as it comes up?” Wilde pointed out, frustratingly reasonable.

Zolf simply wanted to throw the cell doors open because there didn’t seem any possibility that the man behind the bars was anything other than 100% pure, vexatious Oscar Wilde, but he stilled his twitching hand. Wilde’s question was to remain unanswered as Zolf simply gestured go on then and Wilde, with a grim, self-satisfied nod, started to strip.

Day 3

“No, don’tcha see, if Jennifer had gone to Antony in the garden, her mother would have known from the get-go-”

“But I simply don’t see how Alianne knowing would have improved things for Jennifer-”

“She was supportive, she could’ve helped smooth things over when Antony’s sister started her meddlin’, and they could have wrapped the whole thing up before supper!”

“Yes, but where is the fun in that, Zolf?”

Day 4

As Wilde dispassionately disrobed for a fourth time, Zolf realised there was now a familiarity to Wilde’s naked body, and that was jarring.

He wasn’t lanky, not really, but Zolf couldn’t help but think of most humans that way. The truth was he was solid enough in build, surprisingly muscular for a man who mostly rode a desk. His legs and arse especially were firm with it. He does a lot of walking about the village, I s’pose.

Zolf watched Wilde turn on the spot and he longed to trace the shape of Wilde’s shoulders, cup his ass, rub my damn nose in that soft lookin’ chest hair and…

Zolf ground his teeth against the wrongness of it all.

He thought of slipping his hands between Wilde’s legs, and though the shape of the fantasy had changed, the intensity had not.

It had been a long time since Zolf had felt a physical or sexual attraction like this, and the fact that it was at the most inconvenient time, and the most unlikely person, was enough to make him think he’d made a mistake breaking ties with Poseidon. Maybe if he hadn’t eschewed divine favour, he would have been protected from whatever trickster god had decided to throw this at him.

He kept his hands in his pockets so that Wilde wouldn’t see him clench his fists.

Maybe I should offer to strip too. At least that would put us on an equally horrible footing, Zolf mused.

Wilde dressed and turned back to look at Zolf with careful, watchful eyes. Wilde was in the business of reading even the most inscrutable enemies like a book, and at this point he had a thorough translation guide for Zolf. He knew it bothered the dwarf. The fact that Wilde hadn’t made a bunch of lewd comments was probably his idea of a kindness, but the absence of Wilde’s typical peacocking it somehow made it worse.

When he looked at him like that, it made Zolf feel like he was the one in the cell.

Zolf cleared his throat. “Got a new crossword book if you like?”

Day 5

“Pawn to E4.”

A chess board sat on a small table just outside the cell. Zolf moved the white pawn for Wilde then took his own move.

“Knight to G3.” Wilde said in a bored tone. He’d voted for bridge, but Zolf had talked him out of it. Too difficult to wrangle cards between the cell’s bars and mesh, he’d pointed out. Which was true, but what was also true was that Wilde was surprisingly bad at chess (it was much easier to cheat in cards).

Whilst Zolf did feel sympathy for Wilde, things weren’t so bad that Zolf wasn’t going to relish the opportunity to beat him at something for a change.

Day 6

Each day Wilde got closer to being comfortable with the inspections. Closer but not there. Half a lifetime of needing to be guarded about who saw your body created some strong foundational habits. That foundation wasn’t going to be eroded in seven days, regardless of how much you trusted the person who saw you.

But still, it could have been worse. Zolf shuddered to think what would have happened if this situation had been thrust on them a year ago. Their friendship, tenuous as it was, might not have been able to survive.

Dressing again, Wilde stretched the kinks out of neck. “I cannot wait to get out of here and have a proper bath and a nice long walk.”

“Nearly there.” Zolf said absently. He’d stopped needing to worry every second moment that Wilde was infected. Even though they’d been dealing with it all with distractions, with laughter, with pretending like it wasn’t happening, Zolf felt the sudden urge to be honest.

“I’m sorry that… that it happened like this. That you didn’t get a choice in tellin’ me about...” Your past? Your journey? Your truth? “…Everythin’.”

Wilde made a face of surprise, but instead of deflecting the offer of an honest conversation, he accepted. “Me too. I intended to, but as I said. I’m rarely… close enough with someone that I feel they deserve it. I wish-” Wilde paused, considering his next words, and what other weapons he might be handing over, deeply. “I wish that the circumstances had been different.”

Zolf could just ask what he meant. He could. It was practically an invitation for him to press, to force Wilde to clarify exactly under what circumstance he’d envisioned sharing secrets about his body with Zolf… but he didn’t.

Inside Zolf, uneasy guilt gnawed at him. The circumstances they had were only these ones. Wilde was vulnerable, caged, and thoroughly without a choice; but Zolf knew there were moments he’d chosen to ignore those elements. He knew, deep in his guilty core, he had been inspecting far more than he had the right. It didn’t feel honourable to press Wilde any further after that.

“Yeah.” Zolf stood. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Wilde. Last day ‘n all.”

Day 7

“It would have been too much to hope that the bloody sun would come out for this, wouldn’t it,” Wilde grumbled.

Freshly released, he was pondering umbrella selection in the entry hall.

“I’m guessing you don’t want me to come with,” Zolf ventured. Wilde had come out of his quarantine cheerful enough, but there was something understandably off about him; something distant and a little contemplative. Zolf had been half-expecting, or even hoping for, one of Wilde’s warm shoulder-touches. But he had kept his hands firmly to himself.

Wilde looked up, mouth twisted wryly. “I think I’ll be fine.” He hesitated, as he always did before saying something sincere. “I do appreciate what you’ve done for me this week, Zolf, but I could use a little space.”

Zolf nodded. He’d expected as much.

Inside him, the guilt twisted a little, the word violator rising in his mind. No. Neither of them had chosen anything about this situation. If anything, their connection felt even stronger for having been through the wringer, yet again. Whatever liberties Zolf accused himself of taking, it wasn’t enough to dent that.

We’re alright. Zolf thought.

We’ll be alright. I think we both could use a little time, is all.

Wilde selected the green umbrella, gave Zolf a tentative smile, and headed out into the rain.

[awanderingdeal]

In which, Logan is the prize

The sweater weather discord is truly the best inspiration. 

@ais-for-alex, Dio, Jazz and @opaleyedragon , thank you ever so much for this beauty to work with.

@lumosinlove, as ever, thank you for creating these boys and allowing us to borrow them for our depravities. 

WARNING: THIS GETS EXPLICIT.

Finn’s eyes widened when his brain finally managed to register the image his phone was showing him, fumbling to put it back in his pocket. He set the train set, a potential gift for his niece, back down with a thud. “I have to go.” he managed to choke out, leaving a stunned June in his wake.  

He managed to get back to the parking lot in record time, forcing himself to take a moment to clear his head and settle his breathing before starting the ignition. Once at their apartment block, he forewent waiting for the elevator and opted to take the stairs – saying a silent prayer to coach for the brutal stair training that allowed him to do it so quickly.  

He crashed through the door and hurried around the corner, finding the living room empty. Finn frowned, grabbing his cell to check the photo again. It had definitely been taken in this room, so where the fuck were they?  

“Lo? Pea?” Finn called out, just as Leo appeared in the doorway; his smile cunning.  

“Hey Fish? You, okay?” Leo greeted, trying to keep his voice stable but Finn could hear the laughter behind.  

“What the hell, Leo? You can’t just send a guy a photo like that? Where is he?” Finn squawked, arms gesticulating wildly.  

Leo leaned against the door frame, cocking his head. “Oh, we thought you’d like to play a game?” he replied, playing up his drawl in a way that he knew always drove Finn crazy.

The red-head breathed heavily out of his nose, rubbing his temples. “ You two are going to be the death of me.” he groaned. “What’s the game?”

“It’s a treasure hunt -” Leo started to answer.

“A treasure hunt!? ” Finn exclaimed. “I just want to know where Lo -” he was building up to a rant, when his eyes widened. “Oh.” he said, realisation dawning on him. “Lo’s the treasure.”

Leo’s smile widened, his head nodding slowly. “Knew you’d get there eventually.” he laughed, pulling a card out his pocket and waving it in the air. “Your first clue.” he said, by way of explanation.  

“This apartment isn’t exactly The White House. I could just look for him.” Finn argued.

“You could.” Leo shrugged. “But where would the fun be in that?”  

“I hate you.” Finn deadpanned, but grabbed the card from Leo’s hand.

For your first clue; a treat, look for me where you’d find something to eat.

Suddenly, Finn’s competitive spirit flared inside him and he grabbed Leo’s hand pulling him in the direction of the kitchen. He looked around wildly before opening the fridge door. He was grabbing things randomly when he felt Leo’s hand on his shoulder. “Fish, where is the first place you’d usually look in the kitchen?”  

Finn faltered for a second before gasping, “The cake tin!”

The next clue was under a pile of freshly baked cookies.  

“Trying to distract me.” Finn grumbled as he read the next clue.  

Come on now, don’t be beat. Go to place where you put shoes on your feet.  

“The closet?” Finn mused, causing Leo to snort.

“Since when have you put your shoes on in the closet?” he questioned.

“Excuse me, if I can’t think right now.” Finn moaned, the photo still racing through his mind. “The front door?” he tried again.  

“Go take a look.”  

Finn gave a triumphant smile before spinning on his heel and making his way back to the entrance. He quickly lifted a pile of mail – Leo would never leave it there ordinarily – and found his next clue.

This clue is easy, take a look. You’ll find your next inside a _____

“A book!” Finn exclaimed, before a frown began to form on his face. “Leo! We have an entire library?! How am I supposed to find a single book?” he cried, and if anybody said his foot stomped even a little, he would deny it.  

“Okay, okay – I'll take it easy on you.” Leo chuckled. This was fun, but he was more excited for the prize. “Where do we read to Lo?”  

Finn didn’t reply, but ran off to the living room. He pulled the seats from the couch, throwing them behind him in a rather dramatic fashion. “This better be the last one.” he grumbled under his breath before reading.  

This clue is your last! I hope you’ve had a blast! There’s no need to frown, go to the place where you lay your head down.

Finn smiled a little at Leo’s intimate knowledge of his tolerance levels before grabbing his hand. “The bedroom.” he declared, leading the way.  

He dropped Leo’s hand when he arrived in the empty bedroom, glaring at his boyfriend. “That was supposed to be the last! Where’s my prize?”  

Just then he heard what he was he was certain was a moan.  

“Was that-” Finn began, but Leo raised an eyebrow and interrupted.  

“Look.” he said, eager to see Finn’s reaction.  

Finn walked over to the closet door - they only used this one for their shoes, if only Leo had let him look earlier – and pulled it open.  

“Shit.” he gasped.  

“Logan, baby.”

The sight was too much. Logan lay naked, except for the necklaces draped across neck, on the floor; rope wrapped around his wrist and ankles joined together behind his back. He was hot and flushed, sweat beading at his neck and on forehead, his cheeks bright red. He was writhing as much as he could, whimpers torn from his throat. “Please.” he whined. “You took so long.”  

Finn dropped to his knees beside Logan, his eyes widening when he heard the buzz. “Jeez.”  

Logan jerked as Finn’s fingers brushed the vibrator stuffed in his ass, crying out as a stream of come joined the mess already drying on his stomach.  

“How many?” he asked.

“That was the third.” Logan mumbled, his eyes creasing at the corner, his breaths coming quick and hard.  

Finn bent his head to press his lips to Logan’s. “Do you think you can give me one more?” he murmured against them. Logan mewled but gave a nod.

[patchwork-panda]

“I won’t do anything. Probably.” (BSD OdaSaku x Reader. Part 1/3)

Title: “I won’t do anything. Probably” Genre: Comedy/Romance/smut Rating: Part 1 is sfw BUT Part 3 will 18+ (aka nsfw) Reader-insert is written as afab/femme/shorter than OdaSaku and 20+ Plot: You are a member of the Port Mafia who has been sent on a “cleanup” job with Oda Sakunosuke, who you have a crush on but won’t admit it. You don’t finish the job until very late at night, at which point, you’re forced to check into a hotel. But there’s just one problem: There’s only one room left. And only one bed.

Mini Fic is written in 2nd person. AO3 link for fic: HERE

Inspired by the [OdaSaku] art of Tsumugi (@tumugi1 on Twitter). I saw this picture and my brain latched onto the whole, “I won’t do anything. Probably.” bit. And wrote a whole fic for it as I was falling asleep on the 24th and amazingly, KEPT writing it when I woke up on the 25th. So, here it is. Call it a belated Xmas gift bc it feels almost like Old Saint Nick dropped it into my head like a filthy piece of coal.

“You’re kidding me.”

The guy at the front desk shakes his head apologetically.

“I’m so sorry, ma’am,” he mumbles, clearly looking every bit as remorseful as he sounds.

He shoots another nervous look at the gun holstered on your hip before catching himself and quickly looking back into your eyes.

He gulps.

Audibly.

“But there really aren’t any more rooms.”

You sigh and take your arm off of the counter. You’d considered draping it over the receptionist’s monitor in an effort to look more intimidating, but when you’d realized your arms were a little too short for that, you’d settled for the counter instead. Luckily for you, though, that one simple motion had been enough to reveal your gun.

Even now, the receptionist looked like he was going to pee himself, but even though your intimidation attempt had been successful, it still hadn’t gotten you the results you wanted.

Oh, well.

At least Nakahara-senpai would be proud of the way you’d conducted yourself just now.

The man you were with, however...

“Well?” you call out, tilting your head back slightly to look at him. “You heard what he said. What do you think we should do?”

You frown.

“Oda-senpai?”

The tall redhead looks up from his phone at last.

“Well, that depends,” he said, sliding his phone back into his pocket.

His sapphire-blue eyes find yours.

“How tired are you?” he asks.

You stop stifling your yawn immediately.

Today was a weird day. Even by your standards. And you were a teenaged runaway who’d gotten picked up by the Port Mafia several years ago.

Ever since that fateful day when you’d made the stupid decision to steal from that convenience store (how were you supposed to know a dump like that was a front for the Port Mafia?), they’d taken you in, given you a place to stay and a purpose. And that purpose was “doing whatever the hell it was they wanted you to do.”

Today, that was one of their infamous “clean-up” jobs.

You’d been on these sorts of jobs before so you didn’t think of it as a big deal at the time. But then they’d handed you the list. Which was a lot longer than it usually was. And then, they’d given you the location.

You hadn’t been sent this far out of Yokohama since that one time Nakahara Chuuya himself had requested you for backup. And even then, it had been an exception. Unfortunately, unlike that time, today’s job wasn’t quick. In fact, it had taken far, far longer than you had expected and you’d ended up working until late into the night.

So late into the night that all the trains back to Yokohama had long since stopped running.

And then it started pouring.

You are now effectively stranded for the night.

You sigh.

There was one bright spot...

You eye the man standing across the lobby, who takes his phone back out one more time in hopes of locating a cell signal.

At least they’d sent Oda Sakunosuke along with you.

“I’m okay,” you say, ignoring the fact that you’d just been yawning not two seconds ago. “Really.”

“Uh-huh,” Oda responds, his bright blue eyes flicking away from his phone once more to scan your face. “So you’re not here to see if you can find a place to rest for the night? You just wanted to get out of the rain until the first train comes?”

It doesn’t quite come across as sarcastic but you’re really not sure what else to call his tone. Humorless, perhaps? It’s hard to tell. Oda is pretty stoic on a normal day and you’ve almost never seen him smile. For one wild moment, you begin to wonder if he’s actually teasing you.

But then you remember you are talking to Oda Sakunosuke.

This is nothing more than a simple, honest question.

He puts his phone away and approaches the counter.

“Either way, walking into this hotel wasn’t a bad idea,” he says, reaching into one of the many pockets in his pale, yellow coat. “I wasn’t exactly looking forward to camping under a bridge in this weather.”

You note the big, muddy footprints his shoes leave in his wake.

The receptionist behind the counter can clearly see them but he looks like he’s still too scared to say anything about it.

Oda leans onto the counter next to you.

“I think we should stay here,” he says. “There’s no way we’re getting back to Yokohama any time soon and besides...”

He lets out a massive yawn. You think you can see a tear glistening in the corner of his eye.

“I’m tired too.”

“But you heard what he said,” you press, as the receptionist jerks away from you (and your gun). “There’s only one room.”

“Yeah, so that means there is a place we can take a nap here,” he says, already pulling out his wallet. “And the fact that there’s only one room here means we can save some money. I know what it means for those of us who get sent out on jobs like this.”

He picks out a card.

“It means we can stand to save a few bucks. Anyway, don’t worry about it.”

He lays the slate-gray piece of plastic against the counter.

“I’ll pay for tonight, okay?”

For a moment, you’re struck speechless.

“Th-that’s not the problem,” you stutter.

Oda just looks at you.

“So, then what is?”

You wonder if one of the hits he’d taken on today’s job had actually done something to his brain.

How could he not see it?

Having a man pay for your hotel room was already bad enough. But the implications of a tall, broad-shouldered, sexy man like Oda Sakunosuke paying  for a shared a hotel room with you??

You swallow dryly, hoping against hope that your cell phone wasn’t bugged and that if it was, there was no signal here.

If word got out that you spent the night in a cheap hotel with Oda Sakunosuke, a man who had the kind of rugged charm that would put Clint Eastwood to shame, you would never hear the end of it. You could already see Ozaki Kouyou smirking at you from behind one long pink kimono sleeve the minute you got back to headquarters.

And “I’ll pay for it tonight” he says?!!

As if this whole thing couldn’t SEEM any more suspicious!

You shoot a menacing glare at the receptionist, as if to say “don’t you dare get any ideas.” But the message appears to go right over his head when he sinks just a little further below the counter in abject fear.

“The problem is,” you elaborate, stunned that you even have to say it out loud. “That we’d be sleeping. In the same room.”

Oda continues to just look at you.

“So?”

You make up your mind to ask the Boss to check Oda for brain damage when you get back tomorrow. Mori used to be a doctor, right?

Oda sighs.

“Listen,” he says, sliding his card towards the receptionist, nodding kindly to the young man as if he were a timid baby bird instead of a grown human being. “I know what you’re thinking. And I thought about it too.”

He what?!

Without meaning to, you flush but Oda doesn’t appear to take any notice.

“But it’ll be fine. No matter how you look at it, we’re clearly just a couple of colleagues--”

“Clearly??”

“--who got stranded away from home while out on a business trip,” he finishes, taking his card back from the trembling receptionist. “So, like I said. It’ll be fine. I mean, we’re just sleeping right? We’re both responsible adults. I think we can handle just sleeping next to each other in the same room.”

He looks at you.

“Don’t you?”

You stiffen. Your eyes dart to the key card on the counter that the receptionist is now inching further and further away from. You’d think it was radioactive from the way he was acting...

“I--”

Oda raises an eyebrow.

“Unless...”

Oda inclines his head back towards the windows, where you can now see the rain lashing against the thick glass in the gale.

“You want to camp out under a bridge? Because if you do, I can go with you--”

“No, I definitely don’t,” you tell him, sweeping the key card up in one hand.

Out of the corner of your eye, you watch the receptionist take another step away from you as you move. You roll your eyes.

“Let’s just go. It’s late, it’s raining, we’re both tired and you know what, you’re right. As long as you stay in your bed, on your side of the room, I don’t think we’re going to have a problem.”

And as you march down the hallway towards the elevators, you suddenly hear the receptionist calling after you.

“Ah, wait!”

The young man suddenly sounds alarmed.

“There’s only--”

“Hah?”

You turn and shoot him a look and he immediately clams up again, quailing behind the counter.

“N-never mind,” he mumbles, twiddling his fingers as he tries (unsuccessfully) not to look at your gun.

He shoots you a watery smile.

“H-Have a pleasant stay...”

[tickle-bugs]

I Dot the I in Your Name with My Heart

Summary: Lunch breaks between classes lead Simone and Eleanor into the silliest not-quite-argument they’ve ever had. AU where they’re professors at the same University.

@peachytickles HAPPY BIRTHDAY BELOVED!!!! Ilysm you light up my life and my day. I hope your day is as incredible as you are. Have some Laid Ease as a present and I will continue to be annoying in your dms as a further gift <3

“Babe!” Eleanor threw open Simone’s door, adjusting the comically large satchel on her shoulder. 

“Nope.” Simone didn’t look up from her computer. One day her wife would learn to knock. One day. Eleanor sighed, spun on her heel, and exited the office, grumbling under her breath all the while. 

A cheery knock absolutely dripping with sarcasm sent Simone into a quiet fit of snickers. 

“Dr. Garnett?” Simone could hear Eleanor roll her eyes from the other side of the door. She stifled her smile. The fact that their breaks aligned this semester was a true gift--though Simone did miss lurking in the back of Eleanor’s classroom like a high schooler waiting for her prom date. 

“Come in.” Simone hid her face behind her computer monitor when Eleanor once again flung the door open. 

“I’m gonna grab coffee. Want anything specific?” Eleanor pushed the door shut with her heel, cutting off Simone’s unspoken complaint by sticking out her tongue. 

“I left you a sticky on your desk,” Simone frowned, fingers slowing on the keys.

“I couldn’t read it.”

“Wh--Eleanor.” 

“Don’t Eleanor me. You have a horrible case of doctor handwriting.”  She hung her satchel on one of the chairs in front of Simone’s desk. She rolled up the sleeves of her fraying sweater, continually stopping to untangle her wedding ring from the threads it pulled. Simone’s gaze lingered on her arms--clusters of freckles were starting to dust her pale skin. Cute. 

“No I don’t. It’s perfectly legible.”

“Simone. Babe. Love of my life. Your handwriting is unreadable.” Eleanor pulled her clutch out of her satchel. She thumbed through it, lighting up at something in the overstuffed bag--probably her rewards card. She loved free stuff. 

“Maybe you need to learn how to read.” Simone drew her brows together in a signature grumpy pout.

“What does this say?” Eleanor slid the sticky note across the desk and Simone snatched it. God, she must’ve been in a rush because her handwriting looped way more than usual. Did that say carnival? Caravan? Shit. 

“Obviously...this says…”

“Oh my god. You can’t read it?” Eleanor came around the desk to lean over Simone’s shoulder. Her warm hands slid around Simone’s arms and she leaned subtly back into the embrace. 

“Shut up! I totally can. It says…”

“I’m waiting.” Eleanor laughed softly into her ear and Simone’s cheeks grew embarrassingly warm. 

“Why do you bully me like this?” Simone whined. Eleanor pecked her on the lips with that insufferable grin and a fluttery warmth nestled in her chest. 

“You make it easy. Caramel frappé?” Eleanor brushed her thumb over Simone’s cheekbone. 

“Don’t forget the muffin. Love you.” Simone squeezed her hand. 

“Mhm.” Eleanor squeezed back, letting Simone’s fingers trail over her palm as she pulled away. Simone yanked her back, using the momentum to tug Eleanor down for a kiss. She looked up at her expectantly until Eleanor smiled. 

“Love you too,” She sighed fondly, adorning Simone’s forehead with a light lipstick print that she then carefully thumbed away. She drifted out the door, blowing kisses like a celebrity bidding farewell to her adoring entourage, and Simone returned to her work, a silly smile etched upon her lips. 

The waiting time flew by rather unremarkably--silence triggered a meditative, boundless focus in her that she could nurture into a completed to-do list, if she was precise about it. Her focus tended to veer like a first-time driver, but she’d gotten rather skilled at placing tasks in the way of her swerving brain. Eleanor’s presence usually helped her stay on track, unless she was doing something distracting, like holding a piece of paper three inches from her face. 

“What’s that?” Simone leaned around her monitor to get a better look at her wife. 

“Our grocery list. Tahani showed me this delivery thing for the grocery store near campus. Figured we could try it out.” Eleanor held the slip of paper closer, squinting between it and her equidistant phone screen as if it contained the universe’s untranslated secrets. 

“Why are you looking at it like that?”

“...No reason.” Eleanor put it down on the desk, trying to read normally, but she was never good at hiding her emotions. Or her ‘I can’t understand this’ squint. Simone narrowed her eyes until Eleanor felt compelled to speak. 

“It’s your handwriting. It’s just so…” Eleanor trailed off, waving her hand in a dismissive gesture, but her hand kept looping and twirling until she’d drawn the world’s most complicated pretzel in the air. 

“So what?” Simone knew what she was trying to say, but she wanted to hear it out loud. 

“Listen, the data is against you. So many doctors have bad handwriting.” Eleanor patted her hand across the desk, a cheeky grin dancing on her lips. 

“Say that again.” Simone narrowed her eyes. 

“Doctors have bad handwriting?”

“Eleanor, it’s data, not data.” Simone moved around the desk and sat next to Eleanor. She pulled her chair close, so their knees touched, and eyed Eleanor while she committed a crime against linguistics. 

“That’s what I said.”

“Say it slowly.”

“Dah. Tah.” Eleanor frowned. 

“No.” Simone held her face between her hands and squished her cheeks. 

“What do you mean, no? That’s how you say it. Data.” Eleanor’s voice came out a little muffled but she didn’t seem bothered. 

“Okay, Elle-ee-ay-nor.” Simone rolled her eyes, dragging out every vowel to the point of extinction. Eleanor pulled Simone’s hands away from her face and held them in her own.

“Now the data suggests that you’re being mean.” 

“Am I being mean or are you being American?” Simone booped her nose and Elly wrinkled it, eyes crossing for a moment while she tracked the offending finger.

“It’s not your fault y’know. Your snipsnaps are misfiring, so you don’t have fine muscle control. So, your handwriting is bad and you don’t know how to pronounce data.” Eleanor booped her back, all smug grins, and Simone promptly decided that only she was allowed a monopoly on mischief. 

“Snip--y’know what? That’s it.” Simone pulled Eleanor into her arms, catching her with an oof. Eleanor went to make a flirtatious joke--Simone could see the gears turning in her head--but it died on her tongue when Simone’s nimble fingers pressed into her stomach. 

“You owe me a handful of apologies, Dr. Shellstrop, because your handwriting is no better.” 

“M-my penmanship is--no!”

“I agree, actually. You are not immune to doctor handwriting, ma’am. Your equations are adorably messy.” Simone squeezed up and down her sides, pulling the squeakiest, most endearing giggles from her. God, she was so cute. 

“You’re adorably--”

“Thanks, babe. I know.” Simone grinned, fingers mapping every inch of the slight-plushness around her waist. Eleanor growled through her next bout of laughter.

“Okay, okay, I’m sorry!” She yanked on Simone’s immovable hands until they slowed.

“Good.”

“Your handwriting is...unique and I love it.” Eleanor draped her arms over Simone’s shoulders. Simone better secured her arms around Eleanor’s waist, pulling her close. 

“Nice save. But what else are you sorry for?” Simone eyed her expectantly and sighed at the silence. 

“Let’s just say I forgive you for tainting my office with ‘dah-tah’. What is the structure that lets nerve cells pass signals called?” Simone raised her brow. Eleanor knew this. Simone knew that she knew. She’d taught her herself. 

“Snipsnap.” Eleanor nodded sagely.

“Synapse.” 

“That’s what I said.” Eleanor pouted--pouted! 

“Try again.” Simone murmured, peppering fluttery kisses along her throat. Lovely, panicked giggles bubbled out of her, taking their rightful place between every breath. 

“Spintaps?”

“Ooh, almost got it. One more try.” Simone buried a laugh in Eleanor’s neck, her hands sliding upwards to latch onto Eleanor’s ribs. That really kicked things up a notch--Eleanor went from cutesy giggles to borderline screeching, unable to decide whether she was clinging to Simone for dear life or trying to run from her. She kicked her legs, heels drumming against the chair leg, and Simone snuck in a few cheeky squeezes to her exposed knees. 

“Slimcats? Syntax? Synapse!” She squealed, finally deciding on shoving Simone’s face away. She was nearly horizontal now, using the last of her core strength not to fall over the chair’s armrest and have a most unpleasant reunion with the floor.

“I’m so proud of you.” Simone rebalanced her with a strong hand across her shoulder blades, pulling her close with a shit-eating grin. Eleanor huffed, but a few airy chuckles found their way out with it. 

“Shut up. I should tickle you while you try to do calculus. See how you like it.” Eleanor swatted her shoulder.

“I love you so much.” Simone singsonged, looking up at Eleanor through her lashes. 

“Mhm. I love you too. Even when you bully me.”

“Bullying? I prefer ‘showering my wife with love.’” Simone rested her cheek on Eleanor’s bicep, puckering her lips until Eleanor leaned down to meet her. 

“Bullying. I forgive you, though.” Eleanor pinched her nose until Simone made a nasally ‘waah’ sound that left both of them wheezing. Eleanor reluctantly scooped up her satchel at the chime of her phone--time for class, unfortunately. 

“See you later.” Simone smiled. Eleanor slid her a yellow sticky note, folded into quarters, and winked on her way out the door. Simone unfolded it--in tight, coiled letters, Eleanor had left her a note. 

I love you, sunshine. 

Aw. She married a sap--a sap who dotted her ‘i’s with hearts, no less. 

Simone stuck the sticky note to the framed photo of Eleanor that she kept on her desk, smoothing out the adhesive until she was certain it would cling. The picture was starting to get covered now, but the notes adorning the frame were just as important as the contents. She brushed her thumb over the frame and returned to work, Eleanor’s laughter lingering in her ears all the while.

[ourloveisforthelovely]

In Love and Death. Part 3

Harry Potter AU

Link to Part 2 

Pairings: Regulus Black x Reader 

Rating: M

_____

“I’m going to kill you.”

Evan’s voice was filled with fury as he started toward Regulus. He didn’t care that his best friend was backing up and trying to speak in his best “calming a child” tone.

“Evan, you need to calm down. Y/n, is a grown woman and it's her choice.”

Evan laughed hard.

“She’s a grown woman and it's her choice? Did you really just quote some bullshit social justice crap at me, Black? You were there when she was born. I’ll never forgive you for this! Avada…”

Before Evan could finish the rest of the curse, Regulus shot up in bed.

“Reggie?”

Your voice was soft as Regulus sunk back down beside you.

“Everything’s fine.”

He said, gently. You yawned and snuggled against Regulus’ shoulder. He was thankful that you didn’t press him further for questions.

The only reason that you are lucky is that she’s tired.

His mind supplied. Regulus knew that if you were awake you would have started asking questions. His nightmares had been a frequent topic of discussion. You had been the one to comfort him when Regulus would wake up screaming.

Regulus sighed as your fingers twirled in his hair. This was your “go-to” method to make him relax.

“Everything will be fine.”

You said with a small yawn.

“Yes, it will.”

Regulus replied. He didn’t believe a damn word coming out of his mouth. How everything was going to be alright was beyond him.

The next morning, you were the first to wake up. Regulus lay with his left arm over his eyes. You briefly considered waking him up to come downstairs with you but after his nightmare; you decided to let him sleep. Leaning over, you pressed a kiss to his cheek before getting up.

Going downstairs, you decided to ignore everyone else. No one had tried to apologize for the hurtful things that Moody had said. You didn’t expect anything from Moody himself but you had expected Tonks to come and try to talk you down. When your best friend didn’t come, your grandmother’s chilling words about “there are no such things as friends...there is only family” returned with a vengeance.

Several sets of eyes looked up when you stepped into the kitchen. Sirius was the first out of his chair. You held a hand up.

“Don’t. I’m fine.”

You replied. Sirius frowned and shot Moody a glare.

“I wanted to check on you.”

“Well, here I am. The same person that I was last night. You could have checked on me then too.”

Sirius rolled his eyes.

“I was not about to walk in on you having sex with my little brother. I do not want to think about the two of you like that.”

Sirius grinned when you smirked. There was the girl that he knew!

“Fair enough.”

You replied as Kreacher popped out of nowhere with a cup of tea. His little smushed face looked at you with eyes full of love. You made a mental note to tell Regulus that he needed to talk to the elf about getting a grip. Of course, if Regulus talked to the elf in any form of displeased expression the poor creature would probably start sobbing and grab onto Regulus’ leg pathetically.

“So, we wanted to apologize for that unpleasant scene last night.”

Sirius said as he shooed Kreacher off. You raised an eyebrow.

“First off, you didn’t do anything. You just stood there laughing like a maniac. Kind of strange but most things don’t surprise me anymore.”

Tonks jumped up from her seat.

“Please take back what you said. I don’t want you to quit. You're my favorite partner. You’re the Dean to my Sam...the…”

You held up your hand with a smile. Tonks wrapped her arms around you. You let your friend hug you for a moment before pulling away.

“I’m not giving Regulus up. I know none of you like it but I don’t care. He and I are leaving.”

Tonks stepped back with her hand over her mouth as Remus stood up.

“It's too dangerous. Your family knows that you are an auror. If it comes down to it, they will tell Voldemort everything. Now that Regulus is alive, he will be even more thrilled to come after you.”

You shrugged.

“Hopefully between Regulus and myself, one of us can do some magic and protect ourselves. Now, if you charming lot will excuse me, I have some errands to run.”

20 minutes later, Regulus came into the room looking like he had the hangover from hell. Sirius smirked up from his tea.

“For someone who got laid last night, you sure look awful.”

Regulus flipped Sirius off before sitting down.

“I’m not discussing my sex life with you.”

“Thank you.”

Moody snapped. Regulus didn’t even bother looking at the older man. The last thing that Regulus really wanted to do was deal with Mad-Eye Moody. Regulus had enough on his plate with the nightmares, keeping you safe, and figuring what the hell was going on in the world around him without Moody’s help.

“No one asked you. Where is Y/n?”

Sirius leaned back.

“Said she had some errands. She also said that the two of you were leaving.”

Regulus nodded.

“What does it matter to you all?”

Tonks was looking at Regulus like she was about to burst into tears.

“Because there is a hole in my heart where Y/n is supposed to be.”

Regulus gave her a disgusted scowl.

“That’s lame.”

Tonks jumped up.

“She was my best friend before you turned up!”

Remus stood up and pulled Tonks back down to her seat before Regulus’ shotgun temper went off. To his surprise, Regulus sat calmly

“She’s my girlfriend now. All of you might as well accept it and yes, we are leaving. You lot can carry on without us.”

Sirius decided to come back in.

“We need you both here. Whether some of us want to admit it or not, the two of you are useful. Y/n has connections to her psycho family and all of the dark magic that has to be stored in that brain of yours…”

Regulus held a hand up.

“You don’t know anything about me.”

Sirius frowned and scooted his chair out. Was Regulus still feeling salty over his brother’s leaving home all those years ago. The scowl on Regulus’ face was the same one that he wore as Sirius packed his trunk to run off to the Potter’s.

“Yes, I do! You’re my brother.”

Regulus raised an eyebrow.

“Yeah? When is my birthday? What flavor of cake do I like? What did I say to you the night that you ran away to the Potters?”

Sirius blinked a few times before scratching his head. Regulus stood up to make a cup of tea.

“I rest my case. You know nothing about me.”

Moody finally stood up. He was tired of listening to the bull shit of the morning.

“That’s enough.”

He snapped as he limped toward Regulus and threw a file down in front of him.

“You want to be a part of our group. Take a look at this and tell me what you see?”

Regulus picked up the folder and thumbed through a bunch of photos of dead people He frowned before stopping on one that made his heart freeze...your mother. Regulus’ eyes rolled up to Moody’s face.

“Look at that, you noticed it too.”

Regulus focused back on Emma’s dead body. He had to bite his lip at how much you resembled your mother as well.

“Does the way that her body is laying seem familiar at all?”

Moody asked with a sneer. Regulus focused on the position before his mouth dropped. This was exactly how Evan left people after killing them.

“Evan…”

Moody nodded.

“Now you're catching on. Too bad it took you so long being hungover and all…”

Regulus was moments short of a massive freak out. Was Evan alive? Did he actually know about Regulus’ relationship with you and better yet, where the hell were you at?

“I don’t know how it happened. Dead people keep turning up as living. Voldemort is figuring things out that we don’t know.”

Regulus was on his feet and digging the stupid cell phone out of his pocket. He began to pace as he waited for you to answer.

Sirius had come over to join him with a concerned expression.

“What is it?”

“She isn’t answering. I have to get a hold of Y/n.”

(meanwhile)

You sat in a coffee shop with a steaming cup of coffee in front of you. Stirring the liquid, you took a look around your surroundings. This was the first time that you had come to this particular place.

It's no wonder coffee is so popular.

You thought, taking a sip. A man in the corner had quickly gotten your attention at this point. Antonin Dolohov. You had been looking for this particular death eater for some time. Going after him alone was stupid. You considered calling for Tonks but instead remained frozen.

Dolohov was blissfully unaware that you were watching his every move. He was eagerly nibbling away on some coffee cake while talking to a companion that you could not see.

I hope this place has insurance.

You thought before slowly standing up. This was probably a stupid move and your friends would probably be furious later.

I’ll ask for forgiveness instead of potentially losing this creep again.

Dolohov didn’t move as you stepped behind him.

“You are foolish for coming out in public, Dolohov.”

The man froze before turning and looking at you with wild eyes. He smiled ruefully when he realized that you were alone.

“Rosier, you’re alone.”

You nodded.

“Yeah, because I can haul your ass right off to Azkaban where you belong.”

Dolohov smirked. He knew that he had the upper hand against a new auror. Plus he had the perfect hand in this card game.

“Where I belong? I have a gift for you.”

Your hand was on your wand as Dolohov leaned to his left to reveal the companion...your father. Seeing the face that you hadn’t seen in many years, was enough to leave you standing with your mouth open. Evan Rosier looked as perfect as he did the last time that you had laid eyes on him. His blue eyes were looking furiously at you.

“Y/n.”

“D..dad.”

You stammered as Evan stood up. He was taller than you remembered. Dolohov meanwhile sat watching gleefully as Evan began to speak.

“My daughter is an auror. MY DAUGHTER IS A BLOOD TRAITOR.”

He yelled, making you jump back.

“I stopped drinking the Koolaid.”

You replied, smugly. Evan’s frown intensified as he stepped closer. He had already killed your mother. It looked like giving you a proper punishment was in order. Evan was not about to let you ruin the Rosier family name.

“I could kill you. I should kill you.”

“Over my dead body…”

Both Evan and yourself turned upon hearing Regulus’ voice. The two of you were so locked into the conversation that no one had noticed Regulus step in. Evan’s mouth dropped.

“Look who it is. A bit late to the party aren’t you?”

Regulus reached out and grabbed your hand. You didn’t fight as he pulled you into his arms. Evan’s scowl intensified.

“What’s happening here?”

Dolohov grinned from his place at the table. He had gone back to nibbling on his coffee cake but when Regulus showed up; there was no looking away.

“Looks like Reg is all over that daughter of yours in a less than holy way.”

“No one asked you!”

Evan snapped to his fellow death eater. He quickly turned back to Regulus.

“Get your hands off of my child.”

Regulus smirked. He was quickly getting back to his cocky self. After almost throwing a killing curse at Evan when he saw the man near you; Regulus was ready to get his head in the game.

“I don’t think that she is a child anymore. Honestly, I figured that you would be thrilled. I’m a pureblood. She’s a pureblood. Good match, if I do say so myself. Oh wait, we aren’t part of your stupid circle of ignorance anymore. I didn’t come to get in a fight with you. I only came for what’s mine.”

Regulus wrapped his arms around you and was ready to apparate from the room.

“Now that I got it, I must bid you a fond farewell.”

Evan still looked as though he was putting together the fact that you were dating Regulus. You were no longer a little 4-year-old child but instead, a woman whose ideals were far different from his own.

“Don’t you take her from me.”

Evan snapped. Regulus gave him an eyebrow wiggle before disappearing. Evan stood, shaking as Dolohov stood up and wandered over to the place where you had stood with Regulus.

“They are so fucked.”

______

@fairywriter-oracle

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[sweetwritertanya]

Two Lines

Summary: Estranged from your boyfriend Jimin, having pushed him away to the point he stopped showing up a week before, you have made the decision to leave. You believe it was for the best, but your secret is uncovered right when you had your suitcases at the door.

Warnings: ANGSTY beginning with a fluffy SMUT resolution. This fic will contain unplanned pregnancy, so keep that in mind. Beware of: erotic body touching, fingering, dry humping, unprotected sex (although reader is already pregnant, so…)

Requested: YES! An anon requested this scenario a bit ago, I’m so sorry it took so long but I hope you’ll like it! Let me know if it was what you had in mind sweetie.

Word Count: 4378 (angst seems to make me write more? Or maybe it’s just lately, who knows?)

You had to give it to him, he tried. He truly tried. From day one, he knew something was wrong. The moment you started to pull away, to distance yourself from him, Jimin had tried to break through your freshly raised walls.

“Dear, just tell me what’s wrong. Did I do something? What can I do to make you feel better? Talk to me, Y/N, I’m right here” he told you, reaching for your hand at the opposite side of the table, but you retrieved it.

“Nothing’s wrong. Stop imagining things” you lied, avoiding looking in his direction at all.

And still, he kept trying. For two full weeks, Jimin kept trying to please you, bringing home gifts and your favorite foods and snacks, begging you to go out with him to the movies, to see the ones he knew you would like even if they weren’t for his taste. Every single time, you refused.

The last draw was just a few days ago. Jimin’s constant worry and persistent questions had your anxiety reaching an all-time high. You didn’t even mean it, not the way he took it. But you said it, rather yelled it at him, out of frustrations and pinned down fear.

“C’mon, Y/N, I know something is bothering you. Speak to me, I’m your boyfriend” he pleaded with you one morning, reaching over to your side of the bed and cuddling against your back as you were turned the other way.

“Just stop talking about it! You’re always too damn clingy, Jimin!” you yelled at him and got out of the bed in a jump, leaving to lock yourself in the bathroom.

When you came back out, the house was empty. It was the last time you saw him, five days ago.

The decision has been made. You had cried alone, feeling guilty and scared, in an empty bed for the last time today. It was for the best, no matter what, this would have never ended well. From past conversations, his actions, your own suspicions, you knew it was for the best. The best for both you and him.

Dating Jimin had been… a present from the universe, you decided. In a world that seemed to be against you at every twist and turn, never really having lead an easy life, meeting and falling for Jimin was the best thing that had ever happened to you. But, like everything else good you ever came across, it wouldn’t last long and you knew it.

This was where it would all end, this magical dream you had been clinging to for the past year. It never made sense anyway, for you two to meet and be together. He was a celebrity, an idol, a talented artist with the brightest future ahead and a world of possibilities. Handsome in the gentlest of ways, with an angelic voice and the kindest heart, you never once stopped being in awe at the fact that he ever loved you. A dull woman, with a past filled of heartbreak and insecurities, a plump woman at that, with a heavy body that contradicted his muscular one. A simple worker with no higher prospects in her career. What he ever saw in you, you would never know.

Part of you knew that you should tell him. That he deserved to know and have a say in it, instead of just pulling away from him and leaving as you were planning to do. But you were not brave enough to face his reaction. You were not stupid enough not to know this would ruin his life, destroy his dreams and career. So, with that in mind, you decided to keep it to yourself.

The house you both had been staying at was rented out by him. You would send him a message telling him where you left your keys once you were at the airport, and that would be the last time you two would contact each other. Ignoring the painful squeeze inside your chest, you grabbed your two suitcases and dragged them to the entrance, thinking one last time if you were forgetting something important.

It was then you remembered it. Gasping at your stupidity for almost overlooking something so important, you ran back to the bathroom and opened the cabinet. The card boxes were long thrown out without Jimin ever seeing them, but for some reason you were not able to throw away the three tests.

Shaking hands feeling around at the top shelf, hidden away behind rarely used products, you felt them and pulled them out. A lump came back as you saw the three pregnancy tests. You turned them in your hand so they all would show you the two pink lines displayed.

After a deep breath, your heart still panicking after seeing them again, you turned around and moved back to exit the house for the last time. Or so you thought.

Coming around the corner, you freeze as soon as the entrance comes back into your line of sight. With the door still half-opened behind him, there was Jimin coming in. Looking in disbelief at your two full suitcases next to the door. He raises his gaze as he hears your footsteps and his tiny eyes are as large as you have ever seen them, glassy with hurt and incredulity.

The hand that was holding the pregnancy tests hides them behind your back, but it seems futile in your mind. It was too late already. You sniff as you try your best not to cry, ignoring the feeling of your throat closing on itself, making it hard to swallow or even breathe, as well as the burning prickling behind your eyeballs.

“W-Why are your bags at the door?” Jimin asks in a high pitched trembling voice, door closing behind him.

You press your lips together, brain speeding around to try and think of what to say, how to fix this. How to keep him in the dark about it all.

“Just… going to visit my friend” you stutter out, eyes set on the ground beneath his feet.

“Stop lying!” Jimin was so angry he actually raised his voice. No matter how angry he would get with you, he always made an effort not to yell at you. But now he was making a bee-line towards you with hands in fists and watery eyes that you refused to meet. “You’ve been lying to me, haven’t you? Did you try to hurt me on purpose? Are y-you fed up with me?”

His voice cracks at that last question, stopping two feet away from you and you finally look up. You wish you didn’t, the pain behind his crying brown eyes hitting you like a wall of bricks and it makes you want to throw up.

“Never, Jimin” you whisper in a shaky breath.

“Then what has been going on?! Why are you…” He finally seems to notice you are hiding something still behind your back. “What are you hiding, Y/N?”

Closing your eyes, the first tear falls down your burning cheek and you feel like your whole body is shaking, every cell that composes you trembling heavily as your hand slowly reveals to him the secret you’ve been holding for over two weeks.

The room goes completely silent for a few moments. It’s like time stops and you don’t even dare breathing as you await for something, anything, any response. Your hesitant teary eyes slowly glance up towards Jimin’s face, searching for his reaction. You see him stoic as a statue, his full red lips parted, thin shiny eyes set on the tests in your hand and eyebrows slightly pulled together. His ears, cheeks and nose were red from the unsuccessful effort of his to not cry.

When he talks again, it’s much calmer than you expected, in a lower register than when he was angry at you and yelling.

“What does it mean?” he questions, not moving his eyes from your hand. “Two lines, what does it mean?”

He already knew, he had to. What else could make you leave if not what he was already thinking? But he always doubted himself, especially when it came to important things like this. Even if the answer was obvious, if it was easy to connect the dots, Jimin doubted himself and needed to hear you saying it. He needed the confirmation.

You take a breath that seems to hurt your lungs as it fills them, before answering him.

“I’m pregnant, Jimin” you finally confess.

It’s like the enormity of it catches up to you only then, the overwhelming anxiety you’ve been living with, your deep buried dread, they all rush to the surface and you drop the tests in order to hide your crunching face behind your chubby hands, crying profusely.

“I’m p-pregnant, J-Jimin! I-I’m s-so sorry…! I k-know you d-don’t!... You d-don’t want ch-children right now, I k-know, I’m s-”

Two strong hands wrap around your wrists tightly, pulling them down from your face as he pugnaciously crashes his full sensual lips against yours. You try to pull away, but one of his hands moves to the back of your neck to keep you in place while the other grips your wrist so forcefully that it hurts. Your free hand hits him in the chest, the arm, the shoulder, anywhere it reaches, but Jimin remains unfazed and you see in between your half open eyes the deep furrow of his eyebrows as he keeps covering your lips fierce fully.

Your hand pulls at the fabric of his sweater, trying to pull him away from you, only for the feathered touch of his tongue at the corner of your stubbornly closed lips leading you to give up. Your body stops pulling away and the hand that was pushing him is now grasping at his back, dragging him closer and you part your lips for him.

Feeling you finally giving in has Jimin release a shuddering breath of relief before he deepens the kiss, pulling your lush body to him until your chest is flushed against his, your legs intertwined with his and arms around his middle. The hand he kept on your wrist moves to your back as he keeps his other one at the side of your head, cradling it as he keeps kissing you, silencing the words he fears hearing once he stops.

Heads rotating against one another as the kiss continues, you taste his tears and sorrows as the air around you thickens. The thought that this might be the last kiss you’ll have with him makes you cling to him desperately, memorize every single detail, from his sea foam scent to the warmth of his hands, to the way he holds you incredibly close, the way he brushes his lips into your mouth that has your skin prickling and the swirl of his tongue around yours that agglomerates heat at the pit of your stomach. If you could stop time, you would stay in this moment forever.

But, as you have learned, nothing lasts forever. Especially the good things in life. It is you that puts a stop to it first.

“Ji… Jimin” you call as you slowly pull away from his chasing lips.

He hides his face in the curve of your neck, and you feel the moisture of the fallen tears in his cheeks against your skin.

“You can’t leave. I won’t let you” his raspy soft voice declares. His arms are firmly wrapped around your middle, hands clawing at the flesh of your back keeping you close. “I don’t care if I annoy you by being this clingy, I’m not letting you go.”

The hurt in his voice as he said it made you realize that was probably what pained him the most and what kept him away the past few days.

“You’re not clingy, Jimin. And you could never annoy me, I’m sorry I said that” you apologize, resting your head against the side of his. “But I still need to go. I can’t stay and ruin your life like this Jimin, I refuse.”

He lifts his head at that, dark red eyes looking with confusion at you.

“But you are not ruining my life, Y/N” he assures.

“We talked about this before, haven’t we? This relationship… we would just see where it goes, no compromises. And you stated before, that you don’t want children. Not right now, at least. So, I’ll just-”

“Silly girl” he interrupted, arms letting go of your middle so he can kiss your forehead and wrap them around your head, pulling you to rest it on his chest as he cradles you.

“Jimin…” you say in a warning tone. Delaying the inevitable would only hurt you even more in the long run. You just wanted to get over this part, the hardest part.

“You are not ruining my life, Y/N. You’re giving me a new one, in fact” he points out, arms holding you tighter as you hear a soft chuckle. “I can’t believe it. I’m gonna have a child…”

You pull away from his embrace with confusion written all over your face. Even with his flushed face from the crying, he breaks into an easy grin and places both of his hand on your puffy cheeks, leaning down as he stares into your eyes.

“All those things I said and thought at the beginning… They all changed when I said I love you, Y/N. Ever since I’ve realized how strong my feelings for you have gotten, I can’t see my future without you in it. I’m committed to you, to us, and even if I didn’t plan to have children this soon, if I were to have a baby, it would be with you. I’m not going anywhere, Y/N. I’m not leaving you over this, so don’t leave me either. Please.”

The sincerity in his gaze and the warmth of his words make your eyes swell up with tears all over again, the repressed images your brain had conjectured before of you holding a tiny baby in your arms, with Jimin smiling brightly next to you, creeping back up even if everything seems too good to be true.

“Are… Are you sure, Jimin?” you can’t help but ask.

“Absolutely” he answers in a heartbeat.

Smiling smooth lips come back to cover yours and this time you offer no resistance. Your mind feels like its floating from the sheer relief of it all, your heart jumps with joy in your chest at the thought of starting a family with the most wonderful man the world could have offered you. Your hands move over his muscular back to grasp at his shoulders and pull him closer to you, yearning for the feeling of him close like you thought you would never have him again.

Slow deep kisses move from your lips to your soft jaw, down your neck and play around your left ear, shivers running up your spine and the hairs at the back of your neck stand up. His hands are feeling up and down your body as your torsos move slightly from side to side, as if you were dancing. You don’t realize he is moving you across the room until your lower back hits the back of the couch.

Even over your clothes and the bra, the feeling of Jimin’s hand squeezing your breast has you gasping and craving more. His mouth comes back up to find yours as his hands slip underneath your clothes and feel up your malleable skin, from the sides of your stomach to your back. Your hands seem to mimic his, going under his sweater and tracing over his muscles with your fingertips, stretching your hands against the expanse of his back and loving the way his skin trembles.

When both his hands come down and roughly squeeze the flesh of your ass cheeks, it’s like a jolt of electricity runs to your core and you bite down on his puffy lips as you moan. It had been way too long since you two have been like this, ever since you found out you were pregnant. You missed this feeling more than anything in the world.

Jimin seemed to have the same feeling, as one of your legs got in between his and you felt the bulge inside his tight jeans against your upper thigh. Kissing down his neck, you rub your leg against him some more, adoring the hisses and choked breaths that he releases.

“Y-Y/N, stop, if you keep doing that- Ahh!...” He jumps like he got electrified and his body falls to yours as one of his hands claws at the back of the couch, the other still firmly gripping your abundant ass.

“I don’t wanna stop. I missed this. Missed you” you tell him against the skin of where his neck met his shoulder, repeating the same motion with your leg while your hands hurried to unbuckle his belt.

“I missed you too, dear. So, so much” he reciprocates.

When you manage to undo his belt, your hands are pulled away from him as he pulls your shirt away from you, leaving your upper body clad only in your bra. His lips immediately attach themselves to the skin between your breasts, nipping and lapping at the softness available. Your nails scratch at the sides of his clothed biceps as you take in the feeling, his fluffy hair tickling your skin. Jimin’s hands clasp at your waist and you feel them pulling down your pants, trying to take them off.

You help him by stepping out of the pants, realizing that your panties had been pulled with one of the legs of the trousers, leaving them hanging above one of your knees. You would have taken them off if not for the sudden feeling of Jimin’s fingers exploring up your fluffy inner thighs, diving into the pooling center that awaited him. You mewl at the first contact with the bundle of nerves at the front of your womanhood, only to gasp loudly as he takes no time burying his fingers into your tight entrance.

“J-Jimin, be gentle!” you ask of him, walls clasping on to his fingers.

“I’m still angry at you for trying to leave me like this. I want to punish you for that” he admits, kissing up your neck. But when he pulls away and you see his face, there was nothing but love there. “But I’ll be gentle, dear. For our baby.”

He catches your smile with his lips, at the same time he starts pumping his fingers in and out of you at a steady pace, the tightness of your muscles increasing with every movement of his hand on you. You kiss him back in between whimpers and moans, his mischievous tongue knowing exactly how to bring out the lewdest sounds from you.

Your hands kept yourself steady against his arms, the leg that was in between his being used by him to relieve some of the pressure for himself, as you felt Jimin rubbing his hardening erection against your thigh at the same rhythm of his fingers inside of you.

“More, Jimin… I want more” you whisper into his ear hotly.

“I thought you’d never ask” he replied.

The movement of his hips stops as he retrieves his digits, only to drop his trousers and boxers down to his knees and getting in between your thighs. You sit yourself carefully at the top of the headboard of the couch, biting your lip as you see his girth flushed and throbbing for you.

Positioning himself in between your legs, Jimin plunges in with the swiftest of moves of his hips, filling you up and stretching you out in the most wonderful of ways. Your back arches at the feeling and you almost fall back into the pillows of the couch, if not for Jimin’s hand coming around to your back and pulling you to his covered chest.

“Be careful, you can’t fall” he warns with a strict voice, contradicting the sweet kisses he left at the skin of your round shoulders.

Wrapping your legs and arms around him, chest pressed into his, you smile as you press your forehead to his and close your eyes.

“I guess I’m the clingy one, aren’t I?”

One of his hands leaves your back to cup your left cheek, your eyes opening to see a sad and urgent look on his face that pulled at your heart strings.

“Never try to leave again. Don’t go away, Y/N. Don’t leave me.”

His pained voice and vulnerable stare creates another lump at your throat and you find yourself shaking your head, your hands cradling his face in between them.

“No, no. I won’t. I won’t. I promise” you try to comfort him.

“Don’t leave me. Stay with me, Y/N. I love you, stay with me.”

His hips start moving then and it becomes harder to think straight. He hid his face in your neck, so you just wrap your arms around his shoulders and pull him closer, legs locking at the ankles behind his upper thighs. Your keep promising you won’t leave, but he keeps begging you to stay, as if not hearing you or just not believing you.

At the same time his urgency escalates, so do his thrusts get deeper and faster, your slick flesh walls enveloping him tighter and tighter as your pulse quickens, thrills shooting up your spine as you feel the head of his member brushing a delicate spot. Your legs around his waist tense up with the rest of your body, gusts of pure pleasure sweeping through when he reached the deepest he could go with his plunges. There’s white noise overpowering any other sound in your ears as your brain feels like its melting from the consuming heat, so you can’t be sure Jimin is still asking you to stay, but you keep promising you will. Through loud moans and breathy whimpers, you promise to stay with him forever.

Then he sucks at a particular sensitive spot of your neck at the same time his hand moves from your wide waist down enough you puffy lower stomach so that his thumb presses against your aching clit, and that finally makes the string that was keeping you together snap. You cry out his name as white hot flashes tear through you and you burst like fireworks, your whole body trembling in the throes of bliss.

In the midst of your ecstasy, you feel Jimin’s thrusts losing focus and his body jolts and burns as his girth jerks inside of your clenching walls, emptying himself in you. He breathes heavy and rests his forehead on your shoulder as his hands go back around your waist, keeping you close.

One of your hands steadies yourself on the couch, the other patting the back of his neck as he catches his breath. You were both hot and sweaty, you almost naked if not for the bra and the panties around your right knee, while he was almost fully clothed, only with his jeans and boxers now fallen down to his ankles.  Your butt was starting to hurt from the awkward position you were sited on the headboard of the couch, but you couldn’t bring yourself to complain when Jimin was still holding so tenderly.

“Promise me” he murmurs lowly.

“I won’t leave, Jimin” you answer, thinking you knew what he was referring to.

“Not just that” he explains, lifting his head so you can see his worried eyes again. “No matter how bad things may get, no matter how angry you get at me, don’t push me away. Don’t pull away from me like this, okay? Promise me.”

Your eyes glanced at the packed suitcases by the main door and you couldn’t help but wonder how he must have felt, coming home after so long and seeing them. How he would have felt if you had already left like you intended to. You were so sure things were over between the two of you, you never questioned how much it would hurt him if he still loved you. All you focused on was your own hurt and fears.

“Never again, Jimin. I promise.” And you meant it.

He pulls away from you only to pulls his trousers back up, bend down and pick up one of your pregnancy tests still on the floor from when you dropped them. A look of wonder and amazement still clouds his eyes as he sees it.

“Two lines… Just two lines changed everything.”

You get back on your feet, pull you panties up your legs and grab the other two tests, joining your hands with his as you both stare at the lines on all of them.

“How did you feel? When you saw them the first time” he questioned calmly.

“Scared” you answered truthfully. “Very scared.”

He grabbed your free hand and kissed your cheek.

“But not anymore, right?” You smile and shake your head.

“No, not anymore. I’m happy now that you’re here.”

“Good. Let’s keep it that way. C’mon, let’s get a shower and get ready” he decided, pulling at your hand to go with him down the corridor.

“Ready for what?” you ask confused.

“For the doctor’s, of course. And we should probably start buying some things, time goes by quickly during pregnancy, I’ve heard. Also, we need to tell the members and the label. There is no way I’m going anywhere out of the country any time soon. Do you think Namjoon knows anything about pregnancy? Maybe he has a book I can borrow… Oh, let’s just go by the bookstore and pick up a few, how about that?”

And you just hear him go on and on, a smile tugging at your lips and the still fresh sense of pure relief making you want to cry every other moment. Thank God you turned back to grab the forgotten pregnancy tests, allowing Jimin to come home before you left. Thank God for those two lines, that erased those pesky doubts that this relationship was going to end like everything else good in your life did. For once, the universe was being good to you.