#so don't feel bad if you look back and you think you could've done better

[deathisamotherofbeauty]

a little advice before the year ends/begins

don't worry about what you did in the past (or more precisely what you didn't do). don't think about how trying harder would've changed the outcome.

sincerely, someone that tried really fucking hard and still ended up in the same place

[deusfoundry]

in retrospect, there's really no other way this night could've possibly ended.

zayne likes to think that he tried. that he had exercised as much restraint as he could. that the only reason he's got his lips on your skin, planting wet kisses that trails along the path of your collarbone, is because truly, he's been pushed to the brink of his self control.

but is he really to blame when you looked absolutely divine in that dress?

"z-zayne, we have to go ..."

your words fail to register in his mind, anything and everything but the tiny sounds you make enters one ear and slides right out the other. he almost feels bad now, the memory of how ecstatic you were when he'd invited you as his plus one to a banquet hosted by akso hospital three weeks ago flashes before him. how that excitement grew tenfold when you told him about the dress you'd bought to surprise him with.

and he certainly was surprised, pleasantly so, when the sight of your bare back greeted him as he entered his bedroom.

zayne stops in his tracks, feet feeling like they've been permanently rooted to the carpeted floor of his bedroom.

you're seated in front of the vanity table he'd put together for you. the size of it is nothing like the one you have at your apartment, but it shares a similar design, the same wooden accents. it's enough that you can get ready for anything without having to make a stop at your place. he'd bought it when you first began to spend the night at his apartment.

lately though, you've been spending the better part of each week in his place. zayne's been reminding himself to build up the courage to ask you to move in with him.

he's supposed to be used to this. to your back facing him. to your eyes lighting up when you catch sight of his figure through the reflection of your vanity mirror. to you pausing in the middle of your routine to turn around, greet him with that smile of yours that sends an ache in his heart.

but this damned dress.

he forces his feet off the floor to move towards you, his heavy footsteps catching your attention. you flash him a sheepish smile, your eyes flitting towards the jacket of his dress suit draped on his arm.

"have i been taking too long?" you ask, hurriedly dragging the tip of your eyeliner to your lids.

"no," zayne stalks close enough to place his hands on the back of your chair. he drinks you in, eyes casting downwards to the fabric pooling at your lower back. your hair is pulled up to a loose bun, fastened with a clip shaped into a snowflake, leaving your bare shoulders to view. he takes the thin strap of your dress betwixt thumb and forefinger, fighting the immense urge to pull the flimsy fabric off.

it's a losing battle, and zayne succumbs to his desires in a matter of seconds. he leans down, planting one tender kiss on the base of your neck.

he holds your gaze through the mirror as he releases his hold on the strap, letting it fall just above your elbow. he uses the same fingers to map out the scars littered on your back.

"no, you're alright."

"i'm-" your words get caught in a choke. "i'm almost done. why don't you wait for me here?"

"of course." zayne kisses your cheek before taking a seat on the edge of his bed. his eyes bore into you with an intensity that you can feel, enough to induce a tremble in your hands as you add the finishing touches to your make up.

"done!" you begin tidying up your table, placing the brushes back to their compartments. "just need to put my heels on."

"allow me." zayne very nearly bolts from the bed. he takes your heels by the straps from their place beside your vanity.

slowly, zayne kneels before you.

it's then that zayne notices another ... feature of your dress, discovering a slit that goes right up to your thigh. he freezes, hands ghosting your ankle, a field of smooth skin staring at him. possibly taunting him. definitely not helping his pants that seem to be growing tighter by the minute.

"love? are you okay?"

and you had the nerve to ask. surely, you must be aware of your effect on him by now?

"yes." he breathes out an apology, sucking the air through his nose as he slides your feet into the shoe. his fingers find the straps, wrapping them around and working up your leg the way he's watched you do so countless times before. he moves closer, reaching behind your leg to tie the straps together into what he hopes is a neat bow over your calf.

zayne repeats the process with your other shoe, but this time, he lets himself linger. lets his fingers run past your leg, over your knee, until they land on your thigh. lets them prod lightly at the flesh, encasing the muscle with his palm. lets himself lean down, low enough that from your point of view, it looks he's bowing to you.

he places a kiss, first over the strap of your heels that he's just worked on, the material an odd intrusion to his moisturized lips. then another, on your knee. and finally, his lips replace the palm on your thigh.

you shiver at the sudden loss of warmth, but you find soon enough that zayne never intended on keeping his hands away from you for long.

his hand glides further up, slipping beneath the fabric of your dress where it finds itself a home there.

zayne is too caught up in you, plush skin, enchanting perfume, this godforsaken dress, to hear your voice. he's only knocked out of his trance when he feels your hand cup his cheek.

"zayne?" he looks up, chin resting on your thigh. there's a flush to your cheeks, an obvious difficulty in the way you breathe. "we're going to be late."

he nods, pushing himself off the floor. he holds his hand out for you take and gladly, you slip your hand into his with a smile, using him as leverage to stand up.

zayne makes it about halfway through the living room before something in him snaps. he strides across his apartment, footsteps quick and erratic, almost tripping over his own feet.

you hear him from where you stood before his front door, turning around with the knob between your hand to ask him if he's okay. you get barely a word out of your mouth when zayne crashes his lips onto yours.

and that's how you find yourself now, pinned against the door of his apartment, clinging to his shoulders as your legs begin to go limp.

zayne kisses you everywhere, frenzied lips travelling from your neck, the exposed skin of your cleavage. he gives you not even a second to breathe before he's back on your lips. his hands behave similarly, squeezing at every inch of skin his fingers come across.

"i'm sorry." he sends a stream of warm air to your neck, nipping lightly at the skin. "it's just- you look so- god, it's this dress."

"the event-!" zayne cuts you off by sucking at your neck hard enough that it's bound to leave a mark.

"to hell with it."

you yelp when he cradles the back of your thighs to lift you up with ease. instinctively, you wrap your legs around his lower back, bringing him close enough that you can feel the bulge poking through his pants.

"the things you do to me..." zayne whispers over your lips. he eases your entire body into just one of hands, the other moving up to your face, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. "god, you have no idea."

except, you think you know exactly what you do to him, when he starts making his way back to the bedroom, lips eternally attached to yours.

[kiirschtein-archive]

⋆ 「 𝐛𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐞𝐠𝐮𝐦𝐢’𝐬 (𝐚𝐝𝐨𝐩𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐞) 𝐦𝐨𝐦. 」 ⋆

feat. — toji fushiguro x f!reader, kid!megumi

word count. — 1.4k

content. — sfw, non-sorcerer au, established relationship (marriage), mostly just fluffy domestic stuff, reader is addressed as ‘mom/mama/mommy,’ toji’s kind of a bad parent but he’s working on it, brief mention of toji smoking (cigarettes), overprotective!toji, very minor suggestive themes (from toji 🙄 he’s a walking cw/tw)

notes. — idk. this has been incessantly on my brain pretty much from the moment i  woke up today, even to the point where i was writing half of this at  the laundromat lmao. mother’s day yesterday had me feeling some type of way, so here have some fun headcanons from a strange eldest daughter!!!! (i might end up doing a set of these for gojo x reader too 🤔)

⋆ 「 — he’s not your biological son, but you’ve been around since you started seeing toji when megumi was still a baby. but now, a few years later, you might as well be his real mother. you certainly act like it and feel like it, so toji gladly initiates the conversation about official adoption. it just makes sense. you eventually explain the situation to megumi as best as you can simply so that he doesn't grow up thinking he was lied to or anything of the sort, but as far as he's concerned, you're his mom whether it's by blood or not.

⋆ 「 — and oh, megumi’s a mama’s boy. i imagine he’s just a little bit of a healthier kid vs. canon given the better family situation, but he’s still always a bit of a grumpy baby, appreciating his autonomy and trying to be as self-sufficient and mature as he can be. but he’ll most certainly run to you when he needs help, is truly hurt, or just needing a bit of comfort. you’ve always treated him so softly and kindly with understanding, so he honestly feels more comfortable coming to you most of the time instead of his dad.

⋆ 「 — he likes the way you organize the bookshelf in his room or fold and sort his clothes in special little ways. he gets upset any time toji tries to put a book back in the wrong place or can’t figure out where his damn socks are. gumi will scowl and say, “that’s not where it goes.” or go deadpan and be like, “mom always keeps the socks in the bottom drawer.” disappointed that his father can’t even remember. toji just grumbles and says, “your mama’s gonna ruin you.”

⋆ 「 — has called you 'mom' basically since he was old enough, but don't let him fool you. megumi will drop the big boy act and come out with 'mama' or 'mommy' when something's wrong or he's really excited. he'll come to you with quiet tears and sniffles, a little ashamed that he's crying, but present to you a scraped elbow, "mama... it hurts." you clean up the scrape and explain to him the little medical details in a somewhat understandable way to help him focus on something besides the pain, and you tell him that it'll be okay, and that it's alright to cry. or on the flip-side, you and toji take him to the zoo, little gumi on his dad's shoulders, and he gasps and points excitedly, "look, mommy! look at the big elephant!" and it feels incredible to see him be so spirited.

⋆ 「 — along the lines of the art from this post and the thought i had about it earlier, just imagine that you're at some event (maybe like a birthday party or something), and toji's been hauling megumi around. they're both so over it at this point and are like 'please get me out of this' so as soon as toji walks past the obnoxious inflatable bouncy house, he smirks and just YEETS that kid inside without a second thought. after regaining his breath, megumi just looks at his father with the most EVIL little scowl as other kids bounce around him with smiles. by the look on that child's face you could've swore that his father had just done him the ultimate betrayal.

so gumi slides out and hurriedly makes his way over to where you're sitting off to the side, quietly climbing into your lap for a little bit of solace. he wiggles in close to your chest and you tuck him under your chin with a ‘come here, sweetpea,’ rocking slowly and humming something soft because he always seems to like it when you do.

toji comes over and you look at him through narrowed eyes. "kids are supposed to like shit like that," he says.

"you know he likes when things are more quiet," you respond, and toji rolls his eyes at how you seemingly spoil your son.

"just thought it might be good for him to try and get along with the other brats." toji tries to cover up the fact that he tossed his kid for the sheer personal enjoyment of it.

you huff in disbelief. "oh, like you get along so well with everyone?"

he scoffs and moves in behind you, leaning down to place a kiss on your neck. "i get along with you," he says almost suggestively.

you just keep stroking megumi's hair and give the top of his head a gentle kiss. "yeah, well not today," you say, shooting a smug, resolute smile towards your husband, ultimately taking his son's side.

⋆ 「 — outside of his alone time, megumi would honestly much rather be with you instead of other children. toji thinks it's probably unhealthy and you're inclined to agree, but you also don't want to force megumi into situations that will just make him miserable. so, when appropriate, you don't mind at all pacing around with him in your arms or have him walk next to you (maybe holding your hand if he’s not in a ‘big boy’ mood), teaching him about the things you see in the woods, the park, or even the museum. when toji's not away working, he'll join too because it admittedly makes his heart feel soft to watch you two together. it always has, because you've been doing this with megumi since he was a baby. it never gets old. if it wasn't already so difficult trying to figure out how to do things right by his son, he'd want you to give him even more babies.

⋆ 「 — megumi likes doing things with his dad sometimes too, though. toji tries his best to do it right and watch both his mouth and his temper. you like seeing them getting along, even if it's just quietly watching tv or a movie (probably a cartoon where toji gets kind of into and will ask the occasional question like "why does that one stupid chick keep doing that?" and megumi just shrugs like, "i dunno. she is pretty dumb.") or playing ball outside because gumi's starting to show some athleticism. but you have to remind toji that he can't always be so rough or competitive with games because megumi is literally a child.

⋆ 「 — toji can also be way too overprotective of you two at times. you'll be out and about and he'll just be wearing such an intimidating expression as he walks behind you both, on the lookout for anyone who might want to cause trouble or take the wrong sort of glance at his wife. he'll even snap at people for walking too close or like cutting in line or something petty, and you have to tell him stop acting like an attack dog and looking like the grim reaper because dear god you're literally just having lunch at the park. even at his age, megumi's just eating his ice cream and looking at his dad with his little baby deadpan expression and thinking "this man really needs to take a chill pill." other times he can be more relaxed, however, obviously confident in his ability to protect you. it depends on his mood. but that still doesn’t stop him from being embarrassing and going off on people in public if something happens.

⋆ 「 — you also know all of gumi’s favorite meals and snacks. it’s yet another one of those things where, if his dad does it wrong, megumi expresses a disappointment beyond his years. toji will be making and packing his son’s school lunch just as instructed by the notes you gave him, but it’s by no means as neat and meticulous as when you do it. toji’s got a cigarette hanging out of his mouth with furrowed, concentrating brows, his free hand shakily reaching for a cup of fresh coffee, and megumi’s standing there with his little backpack, criticizing his father the entire time. “mom doesn’t do it like that,” he says.

“well mom ain’t here right now. and it doesn’t matter how the sandwich is cut, is still tastes the damn same.”

gumi doesn’t even physically react, still wearing the same neutral expression, just waiting for his dad to hurry up. “mom says you shouldn’t smoke. and she also says not to use bad words.”

toji scoffs and then smirks. “well mommy uses all sorts of bad words you don’t even know about when her and daddy have play time.”

megumi’s already almost late for school and can barely feel his feet from how tight his dad tied his shoelaces. he also asks you later about “play time,” and you want to absolutely murder your husband over it.

[comicaurora]

A bit of a strange question, but if there were any of your videos you were to "remake" today for any reason (ex: you feel like you misrepresented the original text or spread misinformation), which would it be and why? None of them is a perfectly valid answer

Again: bit of a strange question, but I've been thinking about my own creations and how I could have done so much better with some of them, but I also know that is a sign of my growth and constantly chasing "what if I did this instead" isn't always healthy for nurturing a creative mindset, and I was wondering what your opinion might be as a Creator of Things with a bit more experience than I

There's been a few trope talks where I've thought later of other angles I could've explored that might warrant sequels or part 2s, but I don't dislike any of the summaries enough to justify a rework.

I always find "I could've done this better if I made it now" to be a bit of a fallacy. I'm only better at making things now because I made all those earlier things. If I knew everything I'd learn from making a project before I started the project, it wouldn't come out the same.

I think when it comes to the "rework remake perfect" instinct, it helps to zero in on what the impulse is really grounded in. In my experience, more often than not, it's not actually about making the art better, except incidentally. It's usually about showing that you are better. It's demonstrating your competence and your higher standards and your skills, and more importantly it's overwriting the proof that you were once less than perfect. If people look at your old work and think that's all you're capable of, they'll be judging you poorly!

If that's the motivator, it's a very unhelpful one. You can't control for being harshly or incorrectly judged. It's a fruitless effort to stave off potentially upsetting outdated criticism, and it's not even going to work. Fear of critique is an unreliable and untrustworthy motivator.

If it really is about making the art itself better, perfecting your magnum opus with your newly leveled-up skills, that's a little more solid. But from where I'm standing, it's always better to use those skills to make something new instead of polishing something old. The older, unpolished work has already acquired its audience that finds it appealing for reasons that might never occur to you. Trying to bury or overwrite it just deprives that audience of the thing they like, and maybe makes them feel bad for having liked it in the first place. Also, usually when you look back on the older work, you'll conclude that the problem is everything and it'll need to be torn down and started from scratch. I know when I revisited the first three chapters of the comic, when I let my critic brain spin up, it wasn't shading or lineart I wanted to fix - it was panel composition, overall pacing, the entire structure of the chapters as a whole. I would've had to make them all over again to be happy with them, and they wouldn't be the same story by the end.

I've been thinking a lot about the Discworld through this lens lately. It ended up over 40 books long, but everyone agrees that the first two are not what you should start with, because they're the worst ones. They're entirely parodic, purely referential of at-the-time major fantasy series, and borderline mean-spirited in places. If you haven't read Fafhrd and the Gray Mouser and Dragonriders of Pern, you're not gonna understand like a full 50% of The Colour Of Magic.

It's clear that when he started in on them, Pratchett was entirely focused on taking the piss out of a genre he found mostly shallow and unimpressive. But the Discworld wouldn't leave his head, and everything he made fun of he clearly eventually found himself overthinking. He'd make little one-off jokes in the early books about Dwarves having no women and a hundred words for gold, and then twenty books later he'd have a Dwarf gender revolution make waves across the Disc, and then he'd write Thud!, a book that delves deeper into the nuances of Dwarf societal structure than Tolkien ever did.

If you look for them, there are continuity errors everywhere in Discworld. In his introductory book, Carrot defused a dwarf bar full of rowdy brawlers by guilting them all into writing to their poor lonely mothers back home. Shortly thereafter, Carrot will be outraged at the mere concept of an openly female dwarf. Pratchett even eventually wrote Thief of Time, a book that loosely explains that the Disc makes no sense because history has been broken and put back together incorrectly twice, and therefore any continuity errors are because of that.

He's the writer. He could've gone back and fixed it, edited the reprints to be less disruptively discontinuous with the later books. Instead he continuously moved forward and allowed the world he made to grow without cutting it off from its roots. And because he didn't bury his older, far worse work, we have the privilege of following the Disc's evolution from the very start, and seeing how this shallow, stock fantasy world parody became something incredibly rich and complex without ever pretending like its early installments never happened.

Anyway, that's why I think it's better to move forward. You make more good stuff that way.

[blueicequeen19]

Something Borrowed

Warnings: non-con, forced marriage, creampie, cheating, unhinged Rafe

I lean back in the chair, my eyes locked on the swells of her ass as she screams at her father while he signs the contract. She probably thinks her life is ending with the swipe of a pen but I'll prove to her that it is just beginning.

The moment I saw her was enough for me. The fact that she was born with a backbone and an educated smart mouth were just added bonuses. I didn't want to treat her like a piece of ass but that's all I could think about currently.

I adjusted myself as my cock hardened painfully in my slacks. I was half tempted to check if she was wearing any underwear under her skin tight pencil skirt when the pen dropped on the desk and all the air seemed to evaporate from the room.

"Done." Her father said, his eyes staying on the desk.

"This is not done." She shouted, snatching up the contract as I stood. She'd meant to rip it in half but I grabbed her wrists before she could, pinning her against the desk with my body. Fire and disobedience radiated off her as she glared up at me like I didn't have six inches on her even in her heels.

"Rip it up if it makes you feel better." I leaned in close, making her arch her neck as her nostrils flared. "But nothing is stopping me from making you my wife." An adorable growl met my ears and I couldn't help but smile smugly.

"I'll never marry you." She spat, rolling her lip in disgust. I shifted so my erection was pressing firmly against her stomach. I watched the realization dawn on her and how her eyes tracked down my body before she released the contract to shove at my chest.

"Ugh!"

"Pack your shit or I'll do it for you." She opened her mouth to argue but I held up a finger, silencing her. "And if I have to do it for you, I'm taking the bare minimum and you'll ride in the trunk." I glance back at her father but his eyes are still downcast, his shoulders hung in defeat. I couldn't leave without her knowing that he'd sold her off. I didn't want to be the only one she hated.

"You should know that you did your father a great service." Her brows raise just as her fathers head does, his eyes wide with fear. "Thank your lovely daughter for paying back your debt. Why sell a couple vacation homes when you could just offer up your daughter?"

"You said--!"

"Are you--!"

I lead her from the room just as the shouting starts. I motion for someone to get her stuff as the office door slammed shut. I let her call me every name in the book while attempting to hit me as I navigated us to the car waiting out front.

"I don't want this!" She cried, shoving me again in the chest.

"Too bad."

"Are you so desperate for a wife that you'd blackmail someone into getting one? Is your dick that small?" I barked out a laugh as I pushed her back against the car. I seized her wrist in my hand and made her feel how hard I was. She resisted, her eyes widening in alarm.

"Would you like to drop to your knees right now and find out how small I am?" Her nostrils flared as her hand tightened on my shaft. I flexed the muscle and she jerked away, an adorable blush heating her cheeks.

"Do you think I've had any complaints about my size?" I ask, licking my lips as she avoids looking between us. I cup her chin, forcing her to look at me.

"I bought you because I wanted you. I could've had anyone on the island but I chose you."

"I don't care."

"Maybe you should. Your family would be bankrupt if not for me. I could’ve liquidated everything, leaving you and your mother in the gutter with your loser father but I didn’t.” Her eyes widen as she sniffles.

“Maybe you should be the one thanking me. With your lips around my cock.” I lick my lips, loving the way her eyes track the movement before she blinks, ruining the moment with a shake of her head.

“If you think I’d ever let you—.”

“Let me? Baby, I own you now.” I fist her hair and slam my mouth down on hers. A startled noise leaves her, allowing me to slip my tongue inside. I kiss her like I��ll die if I don’t. All but fucking her with my tongue. She tries to keep up, humming against my lips when a slap suddenly meets my cheek. I laugh, breaking the kiss to see her panting and fuming, her lips wet and swollen from our kiss.

“Trunk it is.”

The weeks before the wedding are nothing short of amusing. Her temper tantrums seem to be the most exciting part of my day even if they cost me thousands of dollars. I’ve decided to surprise her with her wedding dress since she’s destroyed the last two I’ve given to her. Not to mention flushing an engagement ring that cost enough to buy a house.

Now the wedding day has come and it’s taken more threats to ensure she gets down the aisle than not. Especially since she revealed she had a Pogue boyfriend that she would not give up. I warned her what would happen if I ever saw them together.

The very thought has me seeing red and I’m taking off down the hallway to her en-suite before I’ve had time to reconsider. The door is locked but I quickly slip in a master key. I can tell immediately that something is up. The room is empty and quiet. I move past the bed and to the bathroom as my heart starts to race.

She’s fled. I’m sure of it.

A whimpered moan from the other side of the door has my body flooding with rage and I’ve thrown the door open without a second thought. They both jump away from one another but it’s the white lingerie that she’s wearing that makes me snap. That was supposed to be for my eyes only. And now he’s had his filthy hands on her.

“Oh no.” The words barely leave her lips before I’ve grabbed Maybank but his shitty cutoff and landed a fist to his gut. I hit him again and again. Unable to squash the memory of his mouth on hers even as she hits me. I finally stand, blood on my sleeve as I guide him by his hair back towards the bedroom.

“Damnit, Rafe, stop!”

I shrug her off as I yank the handcuffs from my pocket that I was planning to save for our honeymoon. Her eyes widen as I secure one of Maybank’s wrists to the foot of the bed.

“What are you doing!?” She cries as I start to strip out of my tux and down to my boxers. I don’t even care anymore as I secure my tie as a gag around Maybank’s mouth. He’s bleeding and dazed but he’ll quickly come around. I don’t want him to miss a thing.

“Wake up.” I smack him across the face and he groans, blinking at up at us.

“Rafe, stop! What are you doing?”

“Giving you your something borrowed.” I snarl, fisting her hair and shoving her to the carpet on her knees. My cock grows painfully hard in record time as she struggles, her doe eyes pleading up at me. Her hair and makeup are ruined and I’m past the point of caring if her cheeks are streaked with makeup in our wedding pictures. This is her fault.

“Open up.” I free my cock, letting it spring free in her face as she fights my hold.

“I’ll bite it off.” She spats.

“Do it and they’ll never find his body.” I warn, drawing her closer by the hold I have on her hair and pressing the tip to her lips. JJ grunts angrily behind his gag, yanking on the cuffs.

“I’m going to ruin your life for this.”

“Looking forward to it Mrs Cameron. Now suck.” I force my way into her hot mouth, groaning immediately as she takes me deep. Her throat contracts as she gags but she doesn’t stop or resist as I begin to fuck her face. It’s better than anything I’ve ever felt and for some reason Maybank’s anger only makes me enjoy it more.

“She’s pretty good at this.” I say allowed, not taking my eyes off her as Maybank yanks harder on the cuffs. I’m on the verge of cumming too soon already as my attention lock on the swells of her tits, bouncing with every rough thrust down her throat.

Just as I’m about to unload.. I pull free to immediately wrap my hand around her throat. She’s an absolute mess but she’s mine.

“What—.” I force two fingers down her throat to cut her off.

“If you want to act like a slut then I’ll treat you like one.” Her eyes narrow even as she gags, saliva dripping from the corners of her mouth.

“If you want to spread your legs for someone then by all means, spread them.” I pull my fingers free and shove her onto her stomach on the carpet. The crotchless thong she’s wearing gives me a perfect view of her pretty pussy and the arousal that’s coating her thighs. I’m immediately even more pissed off that the fucking Pogue was so close to what’s mine.

“Goddamn.” I pull her hips back and line myself up with her entrance.

“Rafe.. wait..” I slam forward to the hilt, earning a cry of outrage from her and the Pogue.

“Face down.” I shove her head to the carpet as I pull half way out only to shove back in again. She’s so wet that I glide in and out with ease but she’s still so fucking tight. Feeling the way she opens up only to choke the life from my cock might be my new favorite thing.

“Fuck, baby.” I grunt, not slowing my pace as her moans fill the air. My balls are drawn up tight and I don’t stop myself from releasing inside her wet cunt, not caring if she gets hers or not. She glances at me over her shoulder with a look of pure sexual frustration. I’d think she was on the verge of begging until Maybank yanks against his restraints, attempting to kick me.

“One more thing.” I sink two fingers back into her pussy, showing my cum in deep as she sighs in relief before yanking back out and smearing my cum across Maybank’s face. I step on his knee as I stand, making him thrash in pain and anger.

“You wanted my sloppy seconds so bad so there you go, fucker.” I yank back on his hair, making him look at me. “Come near my wife again and I’ll feed you to a gator.” I snarl, rearing back and decking him one last time for good measure. I turn just as my pretty little wife makes a beeline for the door despite being in lingerie.

“Nope.” I snag her around the waist and toss her on the bed before turning towards the garment bag on the back of the door.

“You’re insane!” She shouts, looking even more delicious when she looks freshly fucked.

“No, insane would be making you walk down that aisle in your crotchless panties with my cum running down your legs. I’m at least letting you put the dress on.” I toss it at her but she doesn’t move, glaring at me under her matted lashes.

“I’m not going out there like this. I’m a mess.”

“You had your chance to do this the easy, clean way.”

“My father will kill you.”

“And what will he do to you if he finds out you’re fooling around with a Pogue on the side?” Her eyes widen for a moment because narrowing back into her perfect scowl.

“You embarrassed me so I’m embarrassing you. Now get dressed. I want to be able to look back on our wedding pictures and see how beautiful you look after being fucked for the first time by your husband.”

[luveline]

PLS PLS PLS IM ON MY KNEES what about Remus with a sunshine reader? Like she comes around and is just so chatty and energetic and a much needed change of pace for our brooding quiet boy

Remus takes his earphones out the moment he sees you, but that's his secret alone. You barrel through the atrium to drape yourself over Sirius’ shoulder, meeting his smirk with a genuinely ecstatic smile before looking up at the others. “Hello, my favourite boys. Did you get dinner yet?” 

“No, babe, we were waiting for you. Sit down,” Sirius says. 

You beam and make directly for the chair next to Remus, though you could've sat with Sirius, or a little ways across next to the girls. “Hey,” you say, like he's the only boy you've ever wanted to speak with. James makes a knowing face behind your back. “What are you having?” 

“Remus doesn't believe in canteen food,” James says.  

“No kidding,” you say, still smiling, not even slightly put off by this nor Remus’ passive expression. It's not that he doesn't like you, the opposite, he just has a headache and he hates uni. You make it easier, a light in the dark. “What's not to like? Three quid for a slice of burnt pizza or five for a bowl of metallicy pasta. You couldn't get it any better.” 

“We'll go up to town,” Sirius suggests with a chuckle.  

“Let's order a pizza or something, they'll deliver in here, won't they?” James asks. 

You focus on Remus. “You don't like anything at all? The curry and chips is nice enough.” 

“It's not for me.” 

You nod appreciatively and let your tote bag fall from your shoulder into the crook of your arm. You rifle around and pull out a tupperware full of cut fruit, slices of banana, strawberries, blueberries, what looks like circles of pear. “We can eat this.” 

Remus could say no. He can't decide what's worse, saying yes or no, that is until you open the lid and put it between you both, offering to Sirius and James as well, and suddenly it isn't awkward at all, just something you've done. The pads of your fingers turn pink with strawberry juice as you tell him, “I was gonna put some tangerine in here but I keep getting super sour ones.” 

“They're out of season,” he says, fingers brushing yours as he takes a slice of banana. He swears, it zings. 

“I should know that. You know everything.” You leave a little strawberry print on the back of his hand, unnoticed, and he knows he's fucked when he lets it dry there in the shape of your finger. 

Somewhere between fruit slices and your chatter your chair grows closer to his, your knee pressed to knee without remorse, your elbow a whisper from his as you lean back in your chair. “So, bad day?” you ask. 

“What makes you think that?” 

You tap the space between your brows. He registers the gesture, nearly misunderstands, but eventually he relaxes the set of his brow and his tensed jaw. It's actually a relief. He hadn't realised he was doing it. 

“There,” you say, still smiling softly. “That's better. You'll get a headache, you know?” You sound genuinely worried. “It's not good to be so tense.” 

“Thank you,” he says. James and Sirius order a pizza on speaker across from you both, and, for fear you've missed it, he adds, “Thanks.” 

You needle into him with your elbow gently. “You're welcome. You're handsome when you smile.” 

“Not like you,” he says, “you're brilliant.” 

Your teeth peek out. His chest lifts, you look that happy, and when he smiles back it doesn't feel nearly as taxing as it usually does. 

[ssahotchnerr]

I had a dream about this scenario last night and I don’t think I’ve seen anything like this. Aaron’s fiancé is currently in law school but she mostly has done everything online. Recently she’s had to start attending classes and her teacher has been making her extremely uncomfortable. He got access to her phone number and texts her all hours of the night. Leaves notes on her assignments asking her to dinner etc. she doesn’t want to worry Aaron cause he has so much on his plate anyway so she ask Morgan to go have a talk with the teacher to scare him off. But it turns into more of an obsession and Aaron has to get involved.

holy shit you literally had a full on movie going on in that dream and it's literal perfection cw; creepy guy yuck

it starts out with lingering stares. the prof's gaze would remain on you far too long, even after you finished speaking if you were to talk aloud, and another student was adding their input. you brush it off, tell yourself you're probably overreacting, but without fail, there's always that sickening feeling pooling in your stomach.

at first, you're seated in the front - you've always been that kind of student - better access to the board, quick to ask questions, etc., just very involved in class. but as you're seated in the front, you catch him staring at your legs, he moves closer to you during the lecture, not so subtly glancing at your chest, calls on you even if your hand isn't raised.

the more uncomfortable you get, you talk less, rarely participate, you choose to sit in the back, and that's when he starts leaving notes on your assignments - telling you how attractive you are, how you're the most extraordinary student he's had, asking you to coffee or dinner. you try your hardest to ignore it, telling yourself you just need to get through the semester. you even went to your academic advisor to see if you could potentially drop the class, but it's a needed credit. and at this point, you're already a bit into the semester, so you might as well finish it off. not only is it all incredibly disgusting, it's disheartening too. you were so looking forward to attending in-person classes after being strictly online, and now you wish you would've stuck to that.

aaron, of course, is quick to notice a change too. you don't talk about the class over dinner like you used to, ask for his expertise when it comes to difficult assignments. you're quick to change the subject if it's brought up - you honestly avoid the topic altogether. aaron knows something's going on, he provides his support in different ways to show he's there for you - making you your coffee in the morning, packing you a lunch, leaving a note with it. (omg imagine the professor finding aaron's note to you - it accidentally slipped out of your bag and he's just outraged 🫢)

when you go to morgan, shock and disgust covers his face and he starts rattling off questions - how long has this been going on, have you reported him, have you told aaron?!?!?!!? and when you tell him no, tears are just rolling down your cheeks - and it's actually the first you've cried over this whole situation, you've been holding up a strong front until now. :(( derek pulls you into a tight hug, tells you he'll do what he can, and also strongly encourages you to tell aaron. he's all, "he's your man, he'll want to know" 🥺

and ohhh when aaron finds out - furious is an understatement. you tell him the whole story from the beginning, you show him the notes that the prof has left you, and he's immediately in protective mode. and despite how upset he is, he's still so gentle and he feels so bad you've been going through this, alone at that :(((( his voice is all soft as he brushes your tears away, "sweetheart 🥺 you could've told me" and pulls you safely into his arms. you explain how you figured you'd just suck it up, didn't want to bother him, and aaron just gently shushes you, tells you okay, he understands, but please never hesitate to come to him if there's something going on :(

aaron then tells you that he's going to put a stop to this, he'll make sure of it. he calls the school, sends a Very Scary and Very FBI letter. and that prof gets fired yay!!!! and actaully, he does have a criminal record of stalking and being a creep. but with that new free time 🫢 that only means he has more time to look into you ...

[hiddenonyx]

Borrowing Their Clothes | Obey Me! Brothers

A/N: I have some writing done of this for the side cast, but it's not finished and I wanted to put something out. This is several months old and I think edited, but no promises lol written in second person, no mention of gender.

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

Lucifer honestly, didn't even notice that you had swiped something from his closet until he saw you in it. It was late at night and Lucifer, still ever working, decided to stop by the kitchen for another cup of coffee. When he saw the light already on, he had assumed it was Beel getting a head start on his midnight snacking. He was surprised to see you, getting yourself a glass of water when he turned the corner. He was even more surprised (and a bit flustered) to see that your choice of sleepwear is a too-big black dress shirt and matching underwear- wait a minute. 

You can see the gears turning in his head as he slowly (either from the late hour or being flustered or both) figures out that it's one of his dress shirts you're wearing. You have to bite the inside of your check to resist snickering as he simply stands there, looking dumbfounded. Does he chide you for taking something of his? Does he fuck you? Does he say anything at all?

Mammon is the type of person who never remembers what stuff he has or where it is until he suddenly remembers and wants to wear it. Thus he's angrily digging through his closet for this one grey long-sleeved shirt. He could've sworn that he still had it and that it was here, with all the other shirts he had barely worn. Did Asmo comb through his closet again and take stuff? After almost ten minutes of angry searching, Mammon decides to hell with it - he'll just sulk all day, it's fine. He makes his way to the music room - maybe watching some TV will make him feel better. That's when he notices you, already watching TV, wearing that same exact grey long-sleeve shirt with black leggings.

"Oi!" he snaps at you, drawing your attention to him, "That's my shirt. Where'd ya get it?!"

You tilt your head at him slightly, "Your closet?"

"And what makes you think you can just root around in the Great Mammon's closet without permission, huh?"

You shrug, "You weren't wearing it."

"So?!" He gives his dumbfounded look as if he can't believe your logic.

"Well if you want it back that bad, you can come take it off me."

Levi keeps careful track of all his anime and fandom hoodies (they are one of his top three favorite merch items after all). So one could imagine his panic at the realization that he's missing one. At first, Levi hopes that he just forgot to hang it in its proper spot. But after going through every single one, the anger of the realization that it’s actually gone sets in. Did Mammon take it and sell it? He better not have or not even Lucifer will be able to help him! He storms out of his room, his demon form standing out from the other seeming humans in the house.

"MMAAMMOONN!"

"He already left for the casino," the voice that makes him pause is yours. You look up from the sitting room couch setting your book and mug down, "What happened this time?"

"That bastard took one of my hoodies and probably sold it —" he stops mid-sentence as you stand up, wearing the very same hoodie he's been looking for, "Where did you get that?"

"Huh?" You look down at yourself, "Oh this ended up in my laundry basket. It's cute so I figured I'd wear it, but I don't know who’s...it's yours, isn't it?"

A blush starts to creep onto his face as he nods and bites at the back of his hand to stop from squealing: you look so cute in it.

Satan is used to having his clothes "borrowed" by Asmo. He's used to walking into his room and seeing Asmo going through his closet to find something to finish his outfit or to peruse the fourth born’s shocking amount of sweaters. What Satan is not used to is walking into his room and seeing you trying on a thick, oversized, woolen sweater. He stands at the entrance of his room, watching as you hum thoughtfully to yourself as you twist back and forth in his full length mirror. He holds his breath, you haven't noticed him, nor did you hear him come in, and he doesn't want to startle you. He watches on in silence, a soft smile warming his face as he takes in just how cute you look. Maybe he'll let you keep it.

Asmo has no problem sharing clothes. Any kind, any style, he has at least five options for you. Mini skirts? Check? Ripped denim jeans? What wash would you like, darling? Honestly, it feels like half your closet is his closet - he doesn't have any problem just giving you his clothes. Asmo often buys clothing that he knows that both of you would like just so you two can share. You also find yourself sharing or even wearing clothes from Satan and Solomon, and even Mammon sometimes (huh who knew Mammon owned long-sleeved shirts?)

Beel will absolutely hand you his jacket because you mention that you're a little chilly and then completely forget that he did. He frowns a little as he looks around his room, confused as to where it's gone. Belphie didn't borrow it and isn't using it as a blanket...so did Asmo take it? But why would he? Asmo said that his jacket "wasn't quite his style" so where did it end up? Perhaps he left out in one of the common spaces? Beel hunts through each room before finding you in the planetarium, sitting on the floor, looking up, and wearing his coat. He snickers quietly - it's far too big for you; it swallows you up so that only your head pokes out. He rests against the doorframe, watching you watch the stars. He'll let you wear it for a moment longer.

Belphie is a little miffed when his daily sweater goes missing. It's not the first time something like this has happened - laundry occasionally gets swapped around in the house, but he could've sworn that he had gotten his sweater back this past laundry day. Maybe he left it in the attic? One tiring climb up the stairs and search around the attic later, Belphies sighs and pulls out his phone.

[House of Lamentation]

"Hey has anyone seen my sweater? I can't find it anywhere." -Belphie

"Did you check the laundry room?" - Lucifer

"Yeah, it's not there. Checked the attic too." -Belphie

"Actually you left it in my room the other day." -MC

"Oh. I'll come get it." [Thanks sticker] -Belphie

It's only a few minutes before Belphie knocks on your door. He blushes once you open your door, surprised to find you swearing his sweater.

"Thought I'd keep it warm for you," you tease.

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

The Master List

Sort By Character

[strwbmei]

summary: what could've happened if angell chose to be selfish for once

contains: desperate/emotional sex, transfem!angell, fem!reader, angell tops, marking, creampie, cunnilingus, fingering, angst no comfort, whatever the opposite of reunion sex is, parting sex???, mentions of crying but not in a sexy way, mentions of blood (also not in a sexy way), tw kidnapping, but you kind of learn to live with it, whatever the hell is going on in angell's event, everything is consensual and soft despite the alarming tags, mentions of drugs but it's unrelated to the smut, unresolved feelings on both sides, tw murder unrelated to smut, devirginifying sex i forgot what it was called, set in between Ditty Nightsong and Angell's interrogation

pairing(s): angell x chief!reader

a/n: I HAD to write this after finishing her event. Seeing Angell and the chief slowly get along despite their circumstances was such a treat. Also, first PTN fic!

You're tidying Angell's room up, careful to not make any noise since you don't want to wake her. Seeing the piles of pillows and clothes on the floor, you can't help but sigh. How has she lived like this for so long?

A faint song plays in the background. It's obvious the record player has seen better days—it's one of the more used appliances in this house. The song playing is the one Angell listens to while on the job. Huh.

Days are passing by, living this lie,

Not knowing what we're looking for,

As you dust off the furniture, you can't help but smile faintly. A change of pace like this is nice once in a while. Your only worries are preparing meals and doing maintenance around the house, which Angell doesn't even require you to do. Just something to keep you busy, you suppose.

It helps that she isn't a picky eater. Despite your lackluster culinary skills, Angell finishes each meal without complaint. She's even made a few positive comments lately. Maybe you should try making a meal for the sinners once you return to the MBCC.

Oh. Right. You're returning to the MBCC.

Gray, these walls are gray and there's no sky.

There is no hope, there is no soar.

I know somewhere there must be more.

It feels... weird to admit, but you've grown fond of this lifestyle. A domestic life with Angell like this is comforting, as long as you don't consider the fact that she'll definitely hand you over to her client as soon as she gets in contact with them.

Maybe you're just like the goldfish in her apartment, swimming blissfully in their tank as they stay oblivious to the outside world. You doubt Angell would be able to take care of them if she moves houses again.

You gather the clothes from the floor, catching a whiff of dried blood and sweat. Yikes. You wouldn't be surprised if the tank top you were holding had a whole ecosystem inside of it. It wouldn't hurt to wash these later, you think to yourself.

Just as you're about to finish putting the clothes away, you feel someone suddenly pull you into a tight hug, as if you'd escape from their grasp otherwise. It's Angell. You can hear how shaky her breathing is. It seems she had a bad dream.

"Don't go,"

The words Angell had been holding herself back so desperately not to say inevitably leave her, like a clock knowingly marching towards the hour of its death. She's glad that you can't see her right now with how her lips are quivering. You can still feel her hands trembling around you, though.

It's all so stupid. Angell is so stupid. She let herself get used to you, your warmth, and your kindness akin to sunlight so bright it hurt her eyes. And where has that gotten her? Naive; borderline delusional. Possibly dead, too. What have you done to this assassin, Chief of the MBCC?

"Please."

You feel as if you're meeting Angell for the first time when she says this. She has never acted like a dangerous hitman at home, but she has never acted so... desperate, either. You don't mind seeing another side of her, but the sudden change in demeanor is perplexing.

"Angell?" You call out. The woman's grip on you gets ever so slightly tighter in response. "Everything's okay. I'm here." You're not going anywhere—or so you'd like to say. Your relationship with her, if you could even call it that, is already far too filled with lies for you to add one more.

You can feel Angell's muscles tense around you. She holds her strength back, protecting you as if you were but a candle flickering in the wind. You feel safe. "Sorry. Did I wake you up?" Although most of Angell's actions are obscured from your vision, you can feel her shake her head.

"Don't leave me."

The two of you are captive and captor. Not roommates, and most certainly not lovers for Angell to say such things. She could end your life at this very moment if she so wished. So why is it that Angell is the one who finds herself powerless in your grasp?

You stay silent. If you were being honest, you don't want to leave her either. But the world doesn't work that way. You have responsibilities; the both of you. There are more pressing matters for you to handle than adjusting the hands of a clock and feeding goldfish.

Angell knows this. She values professionalism and credibility far more than her personal preferences. That's the only reason why she kept you here in the first place. Which is why you don't understand what exactly has gotten into Angell; what has pushed her to give up her creed like this.

Sensing the mutual hesitation in the air, Angell pushes you down onto the bed. Her eyes are slightly swollen and red, as if she had just been crying. You wonder what she had been dreaming about. You want to comfort her.

In this state, she'll listen to whatever you say, whatever falsehoods you feed her. Tell Angell everything will be alright and that your time together won't end. She'll believe you this once, even if it leads to her death.

You're pinned under Angell's weight, but you aren't afraid. There's something about her that ironically makes you feel safe, despite how aloof she can be. Angell doesn't shy away from your touch, either, even if she knows that you could use your shackles on her. "Angell..." Your hand reaches up to cup her cheek. She instinctively leans into it. "You're not alone anymore."

Angell's eyes widen uncharacteristically from your words. She tries to act unaffected, but you feel her breath hitch. Is it true? The walls she had built around herself to shield herself from others had eventually turned into a prison isolating her from the rest of the world. Could Angell... really break them down?

She does what feels most natural and leans in to seal your lips in a passionate kiss. It's desperate like a symphony of sorrow, yet as gentle as if she were handling a delicate flower. Angell's inexperience is clear.

How unfair. A kiss is something that you should only share with someone that you love.

And still, you return it just the same. You mirror her fervor as you chase after her lips, your elbows propped on the mattress to hold you up. Its softness and warmth is a pleasant surprise. Most likely because Angell only used to sleep on the couch before you came into her life.

She detaches herself from your lips after what felt like forever and a day. Angell's brows are furrowed, and her eyes are hesitant. She gazes at you as if to ask, is this really okay?

Whether she's asking if this is okay with you or if it's okay for her to indulge in her desires for once, you have no idea. It doesn't matter. The answer to both questions remains the same.

This time, you're the one to pull her into a passionate make-out. Angell groans, eagerly savoring each kiss as if it'll be her last. You brush her hair away from her face.

"Everything will be alright." You promise, both to yourself and the to woman in front of you. But you're wrong. How could Angell ever be fine without you?

She can abandon this house, her pride, or even her life if need be. But you? Oh, god, not you. How could you get Angell used to your warmth and kindness, just to rip it all away from her?

It'd be less cruel to treat her with mockery and disdain. It's what Angell is used to and it's what she believes she deserves.

"No," she says firmly. She buries her face into your chest, her arms wrapped around your waist. "Don't go." For some unknown reason, Angell is convinced that you're going to leave.

There are still a few days until the "gig" she took expires, and even then, she can choose what she wants to do with you afterward. Angell could keep you locked up here for as long as she wants, and you wouldn't be able to do a thing.

But she isn't that kind of person.

Angell doesn't belong with those scum on the dark web. Her heart is unadulterated by the filth surrounding her, and despite how she acts, you know Angell loves helping people deep down.

"I'm here." You comfort her. Once again, you have to stop yourself from telling her that you'll stay. It seems you accidentally said that out loud, though. "...Liar." Angell mumbles, lips now trailing along your jaw and neck.

Sighing in bliss, you remove your coat to give her more space to work with. You toss it to a corner of the room. You'll clean it up again later. Her hands roam around your torso, exploring to find the buttons of your shirt.

Frantically, Angell works to remove them. She rushes as if she's going to lose you any moment now, not even bothering to remove her own clothes yet. "Don't go..." Angell pleads again before her mouth bites softly from your collarbone to your breasts. She unclasps and removes your bra as she goes.

"Angell..." You sigh her name as she fondles one of your breasts. She touches you with a gentleness she's never shown anyone else. When Angell looks up at you, her eyes reflect an emotion that you can't identify.

Longing? Regret? Lust? You can't tell. Honestly, you don't know how you feel about her either. You thought that Angell was weird at first, but you always believed that she had a good heart. You've grown fond of her as time passed—too fond. Angell isn't the only one wearing her heart on her sleeve, apparently.

For the first time, she calls your name. Not "Chief," but your name. God, it's stupid how such a simple thing has your heart racing when you're literally about to fuck. Since when has your kidnapper gotten you so smitten?

Angell's hands, strong albeit a bit slim, map out every plane on your body. She savors the feeling of each curve and dip and takes her time etching it into her memory. Lips work to kiss every inch of your now exposed skin, occasionally leaving small bite marks.

Not once has Angell treated you like the Chief of the MBCC. She knows of your identity and the good deeds you've done, yet she treats you like any other person. It's one of the many qualities you've grown to love about Angell.

The atmosphere in the room gets warmer, and you use it as an excuse to take off her leather jacket. The other woman is left in her tank top and pants. The prominence of her collarbones sadden you, although it's gotten better since the first day you were brought to this safehouse. You wish she'd take care of herself more.

Angell's hands stop at your belt. You enjoy the few seconds of her struggling with herself before she speaks up. "Can I...?" You smile at her consideration for you, making sure that you're fine with what she's doing. "Yeah. Go ahead."

Office wear is such a hassle to take off, you think to yourself as you help Angell take off your pants. Are all those layers really necessary? Again, the piece of clothing is tossed away to god-knows-where.

Immediately, the woman pounces back on you, now leaving kisses along your stomach as she holds onto your hips. You trace her scars softly with your fingers. You can't imagine the hardships that Angell has been through. You're happy to provide any sort of respite to her.

In the moment Angell stops to look up at you, there is an undeniable air of sadness and guilt. In an attempt to cheer the woman up, you tuck her hair behind her ears and attempt to tease her. "Don't miss me too much."

As you expected, Angell stays silent. You can feel her relax a bit, though—that's a win in your book. She finds comfort in how you never change. Angell slowly dips the pad of one of her fingers into your folds, careful not to hurt you. "Mm... Angell..." You bite back a moan.

"You can go faster. I can take it." You reassure the woman through heavy breaths. It's honestly embarrassing how wet you are, but Angell takes it as a sign that she's doing good. She's become more confident; now thrusting her finger inside of you all the way, albeit still at a gentle pace.

Angell is observant. She looks for what motions earn the most positive reaction from you with an almost deadpan look on her face as if she's not literally fingerfucking you into the mattress. It shows how focused she is on making you feel good.

"Is this your first time?" Angell asks suddenly. She doesn't look at you. "Yeah... Why?" You respond. Angell stays quiet, continuing the movement of her fingers. The question caught you a bit off guard. She didn't seem like the type to refuse to mess with virgins or care about the status of anyone's virginity in general.

Just when you let out a moan from her grazing your g-spot, a realization hits you. This is Angell's first time, too. You doubt she's ever had any real romantic experience before, much less sexual. It's no wonder she seems so nervous. You make a mental note to reassure and praise her.

Angell takes notice of how you let out a sound whenever she grinds against a specific place and abuses the same location with each thrust of her fingers. When she sees you trying to grind against her hand, (because of how good it feels, but she doesn't know that) she takes it as a sign that you need more.

"I'm going to add another finger," Angell says more like a statement than a question, but she waits for your approval before doing so anyway. You've never felt so full. Her years of experience using a sword have calloused her hands ever so slightly, and although you feel bad for what led her to a life of crime, damn did it feel good rubbing against your walls.

Angell loves the way you moan her name. She can't get enough of it; she wants to hear it roll off your tongue like a starving wolf longing for prey in the dead of winter. She listens to the sound of each letter eagerly, as if engraving it into the very essence of her soul. She wants you to say her name over and over again, and only hers. As is in the present and as will be in the future.

Angell's own selfishness surprises her. Maybe she's just like the greedy criminals she has both killed and worked for. Angell has never denied the possibility—she's not the saint that you think she is. There is blood on her hands, and not even the purest of oceans can wash it away. She has long since come to terms with her fate of isolation.

You arch your back into her touch, your arms wrapped around her back. If not for the tank top she was wearing, you're sure you would've left some claw marks along it's broadness already. You have to stop your legs from closing on their own, the overwhelming pleasure proving to be too much. Soft moans and the scent of sex fill the room. "Feels so good, Angell..."

She takes a deep breath, the only things filling her senses being your sweet voice and the feeling of your warm pussy stretching to accommodate her fingers. You have no idea how long Angell has wanted to touch you like this. You do things to her that she can't explain.

Your moans increase in frequency, getting higher pitched as you feel yourself nearing release. It seems Angell is a natural at using her fingers, seeing how she's about to make you cum quicker than you could ever get yourself to. "Angell... I'm-"

Before you can warn her, your legs tremble and you cream all over her hand. After continuing her movements to help you come down from your high, Angell pulls her digits out, fascinated by the string of cum connecting them. Much to your surprise, she puts both fingers into her mouth.

"...I've never tasted anything like this before." Angell remarks. Her sense of taste is dull—she isn't exaggerating when she says she can't tell apart food that's edible from food that's spoiled, or raw from burnt. But you? Your taste is as distinct as it can be to her tongue. You've ignited a dangerous fire in the woman.

"More." Angell demands, positioning her head between your legs. Just as you're about to protest that you're still sensitive, she speaks up again. "Can I?" Angell tilts her head as she asks for permission. Fuck it. You know you wouldn't be able to refuse her and her annoyingly adorable personality anyway.

You sigh at your lack of self discipline when it comes to Angell. "Yes, you can." Those words are all it takes for her to dive headfirst into your dripping sex. Angell's tongue explores your warmth with a newfound confidence, using what she's learned from fingering you to eat you out as skillfully as possible.

God, she's absolutely addicted to your taste—to you. Angell can't get enough of how you squirm under her touch; how you moan her name so wantonly. She'd stay in between your legs for forever if she could, but forever is not a luxury that the two of you have.

Angell wishes that life would be as easy as adjusting the hands of the clock. She wishes she could turn everything back to how it used to be. Angell would hold on to every passing moment with you like a painter desperately trying to capture the perfect sunset before it fades.

Each wet lick up your slit is greedier and hungrier than the last. She's gentle with you, yes, but you can feel the weight of the underlying desire that's been building up in the pit of her stomach for god knows how long. What Angell feels for you is akin to a devouring darkness: once you get entwined, there's no going back. Whether that applies to you, her, or both of you remains unknown. Maybe you know the answer but choose to ignore it.

Body still awash in the aftermath of your previous orgasm, it doesn't take long for you to feel that familiar coil in your belly building up once again. It takes all of your strength to resist pushing Angell's head down between your legs. Well, not that she could go any further. Too busy moaning Angell's name to warn her with words, you hope that she'll get the message with how your legs are trembling.

Sure enough, you cum with a breathless gasp soon after. She eats you out through your high, careful to lap up all of your fluids without overstimulating you. Angell is a quick learner, after all. You're left panting for breath after two consecutive earth-shattering orgasms, yet Angell hasn't even gotten undressed. That won't do. Aside from the damage your pride would take, you want to return the favor.

"Angell, lay down for me, will you?" You ask of her through your heavy breathing. Although Angell has her doubts, she immediately follows your command. "I'm not tired yet." You chuckle at her words but shudder to think about its implications. The stability of your legs would not survive after getting eaten out by Angell again. Though, the same might be said for what you're going to do next. "I want to make you feel good too."

You sit with your thighs on either side of Angell's legs, already working on removing her clothes. Once they're off, you're quick to capture her lips in a chain of soft, yet lustful kisses. She gives in to you more easily than you expected. You had the impression that Angell would be the type to want to be in control of everything at any time, but she lets you lead this dance.

Although the woman is probably unaware, the size of her boner is huge. Seven inches at the very least. You bite your lip at its sheer girth. You'd be lying if you said that you never had any doubts about it fitting inside of you, but it's nothing you can't handle... probably. As if reading your thoughts, Angell speaks. "...I don't have any lube."

Your eyes wander to the bottle of lotion you put on her bedside table, (which was the only surface available for it at the time,) but you eventually decide against using it since it's most likely expired. "It's fine. We'll start out slow."

Angell likes the insinuation that you'll go faster once you're more comfortable. She helps you align yourself with her cock, gently holding you by your hips. Although Angell has her hands on you, she lets you control the pace and only tries to assist when necessary.

With bated breath, you sink onto the tip. Her length feels endless, filling you up completely inch after inch. Angell relishes in how your eyes almost roll into the back of your head and the moan you let out when you finally take her inside entirely. Still, she places your comfort and pleasure above everything else. "Are you sure about this?"

Your chest heaves as you get used to the sensation of feeling so... full. It takes you a few seconds to reply. "This is nothing that the Chief of the MBCC can't handle," Angell smiles at your reply. Your act of false bravado isn't fooling anyone. It gives the woman a sense of pride to have such an important figure of society in her hands like this.

Just being inside of you has Angell biting her lip. She'd never imagine in her life that she'd be able to sleep with anyone, much less someone as kind and beautiful as you are. The intimacy of it all makes everything that much more pleasurable, and Angell hopes you feel the same way.

The two of you stay like this. Both of you are aware that you don't have much time left, but you're not in a rush. Rather, you take the opportunity to enjoy this moment thoroughly. It takes a while for you to get used to Angell's sheer size, and it also takes her a while to get used to these unfamiliar sensations.

Angell is barely able to conceal the pure ecstasy she feels when you start moving. Your pussy is just so tight. She's not one to masturbate often, but she can say with confidence that being inside of you feels miles better and much more personal than rutting into her hand just to get rid of her morning wood.

You take Angell down to the base, albeit with much difficulty at first, and start off by grinding. You roll your hips back and forth, the tip of her cock almost kissing the entrance of your cervix. Angell grips your waist harder, but still lets you control the pace of your lovemaking. Her trust in you makes your heart flutter.

With Angell's hair splayed like flowing rivers on the sheets, her eyes fluttered shut, and soft moans escaping her mouth now and then, you aren't able to resist the desire to kiss her. It starts with a small smooch on her neck, then two. And then these kisses turn into hickeys one after another.

The feeling is weird and alien to Angell, but she surrenders herself to you all the same, even tilting her head to make it easier for you. You feel bad about leaving them in such obvious places, but knowing her, she wouldn't bother to hide them. And you'd be right, because if anything, Angell would wear them as a badge of honor. Who cares what other people think of her sex life?

Up, and down. Up, and down. You move your hips at a steady pace once you get the hang of it. You relish in the way the sides of her cockhead rub against your walls so deliciously. As you're straddling Angell and leaving more hickeys wherever you can access, she gets an idea to play with your clit while you ride her. You seemed to like having it stimulated earlier.

Soon after, the both of you are a moaning mess. This small gesture makes everything feel a hundred times better for you, and in turn, you move faster. You lift yourself enough so her tip is barely inside of you, and immediately bring yourself down again.

Angell curses under her breath. She holds onto you as if you'll disappear otherwise, chanting your name like a mantra; like a sinner begging for forgiveness. The sight of you bouncing up and down on her cock while looking down at her so lovingly is enough to make the inexperienced woman swoon.

"I'm close..." Angell warns. You don't care. In fact, you seem to be riding her harder; trying to milk her for all she's worth. "Want you inside." You lean forward to kiss her. Angell chases after your lips fervently, her hands holding you close as you continue to move your hips while her thumb presses down on your clitoris.

You swallow each other's muffled moans. The only thing that matters to the both of you in this moment is one another. You'd freeze time and stay like this with Angell for eternity if you could. She cums with a strained groan, and you feel her seed filling you up. It's oddly comforting to know that Angell has left a mark inside of you.

You continue your ministrations slowly, and yoi have an orgasm of your own soon after. The mixture of you and Angell's fluids form a white ring on the base of her cock. It doesn't take long until the two of you collapse next to each other, breathing heavily as sweat runs down both of your bodies.

Although you feel refreshed, you have no idea how to handle this. Your relationship with Angell, your return to the MBCC, everything. The confusion is understandable considering you literally just slept with your kidnapper who's been holding you captive. You'll cross that bridge when you get there, you suppose.

Seeing Angell stare at you, most likely with no idea how to proceed either, you feel like you should say something. "That was great, Angell. Thank you." She smiles at your words before pulling you into a cuddle. Angell really is just like a cat, you think to yourself.

With these thoughts in mind, your impulse to scratch her behind the ears just like you would to a stray cat on the side of the road win. Before you can retract your hand to apologize, Angell leans into your touch, sighing contently. You swear you hear her purr, even.

"You really... don't want to stay at the Bureau?" You ask. You regret letting those words leave your mouth, but you can't bring yourself to care now that you're running out of time. You're more than willing to fight for her. "You'll be safe. You can have my red bean soup any time you want."

Angell knows that you mean each word that you say. You won't let anyone from the dark web bother her, and even though you have responsibilities, she knows that you'll fulfill your promise. That's why it hurts.

"Tomorrow. I'll give you my answer tomorrow." Angell speaks up, just as you start to fear that you might've ruined this intimate moment. Her words give you hope. It's faint, but it's there. You'd like to say that you wouldn't, but you'd cling to any chance to spend more time with Angell; have her by your side even if only for a second more.

However, the woman has already made an irreversible decision: one that she fears has consequences that she'll be carrying for the rest of her life. For now, both of you are content with your current state.

"Stay with me," Angell mumbles, trying to enjoy your scent and affection the best her tired body can manage. A thought passes both of your minds as you're entangled in each other's embrace: it'd be nice if we could stay like this forever. It saddens Angell to know that that thought would only be left as an 'if.' "Just for a bit longer."

"Tomorrow" never comes. Tomorrow will never come without you by her side.

Angell wakes up. The bag containing her trusted blade is held near her body. She finds that she hasn't been able to let go of it ever since you've left her—or rather, ever since she left you. It's the only thing left of the time you spent together. It's the only thing that assures Angell that you were real, not just an illusion.

A lot of things have changed. She finds herself sleeping more. Angell clings to her memories with you through dreams, even trying to "make" new ones whenever the chance presents itself. She's also taken less assassination jobs lately, instead picking odd jobs that you'd be likely to choose for her.

Angell remembers the last one she took. The man was a leader of a drug cartel, infamous for getting young sinners addicted and using them to transport goods. The world would be better off without him, and Angell was no different. He had a wife and a toddler son. He called for his wife's name before he drew his final breath. Perhaps he too was but another victim of the cruelty of this side of the world—perhaps he too wanted to escape the void of the dark oceans and live under the sun's warmth.

Angell is too far gone. A shark cannot start living on land, no matter how much it wishes. She belongs in a bottomless abyss where the sun must not pierce through, while you belong on the other side of this fucked up world, risking your life to save everyone that can be saved. Angell is not a part of that group. She feels your sunlight faintly, but as much as she wants to bask in it, it cannot pierce through the deep waters of her heart. It must not.

Maybe things could've turned out differently if she met you earlier.

Angell stands up from the dusty couch. She is the only one in this desolate home. You're not there to scold her for sleeping on the sofa when she has a clean bed. Not even her goldfish keeps her company on these cold nights—but she trusts that you've taken good care of them. You've always taken care of everyone around you, but who's going to do the same for you?

Particles of dust float in her apartment. She finds that there's no reason to clean it up. Once again, her fridge is full of nearly expired, barely edible "food." As Angell gets ready to head out, she sees her reflection in the shards of broken glass on the floor. It was from a vase that came with the safehouse that she knocked over and forgot to clean. Huh. It looks like she's been crying.

You wake up in a cold sweat. The coolness of your desk against your cheek is unpleasant. The arm you've been using as a pillow is numb. You scramble to sit up straight and look at the time: 2:48AM. Most of the Bureau is asleep. A blanket that you didn't even realize was resting on your shoulders falls off of you, most likely Adjutant Nightingale trying to make sure you don't catch a cold.

On a tray set apart from the paperwork you had been working on, there is a note, a sandwich, and a cup of iced coffee. You assume the perpetrator is the same as the person who wrapped a blanket around you, and as it seems from reading the note, you were right. The contents are a mix of Nightingale's concern for you and scolding you for not taking care of your well-being.

You feel bad for worrying her all the time. Honestly, you're surprised she hasn't resigned yet with how often you get kidnapped. It's not just Nightingale either, even some sinners have noticed the bags under your eyes and how distant you've been acting ever since you came back. You should really pull yourself together. If not for yourself, then for the sinners who rely on you, the Chief of the MBCC.

Why do you keep dreaming about Angell? You've been betrayed many times before, and although you'll never get used to it, you've always gotten back up each time quicker than the last. What is it about her that's so different? Why does she affect you so much?

You open your laptop with a newfound sense of determination, but this time, it's not for work. If you want to stop a problem, you should tackle the source of it, right? Or maybe that's just an excuse. You're going to find her, and along with her, answers. After you press the 'enter' key, the simple yet eerie screen you've grown familiar with welcomes you back:

"Welcome to DisMyth"

[dragonsoulage]

Fighting with his beloved nurse...

feat. Giyuu Tomioka

Giyuu is not used to people that like him and that are concerned for him. He does not even understand why you were angry when he got hurt a little too bad for your taste. Afraid he would need to split apart from his favourite nurse. So you two ended up arguing

Hello world I am still sick but I wrote a little Giyuu stuff here. Idk why I feel like he always would think he is not good enough, poor boy so we need to show him that he is precious ✨ anyways I still suck in proof reading but have fun. That's just the first time I wrote something for Demon Slayer 💖

Wordcount: 2,0 k

Warnings: fluff, fighting, a little suggestive in the end

The situation was kinda frustrating. He just came back from a mission a few days ago.

You were a nurse around from the butterfly estate. Stunning, gorgeous, breathtaking...all these words that popped in Giyuus head when you appeared in his sight. But not only that, you were indeed a kind soul. Always gifting him with the sweetest smiles of all when he returned.

Slowly over the years you build a connection with him. He was a cold man, not really social, so it was not that easy. But you were kind from the bottom of your heart. Not even could harm a fly.

Patients you card for all said the same, you were an angel walking on earth.

But even angels can be mad, right?

You and Giyuu, never really named what this was between you two.

All you knew was that when he came back from a mission, and you saw him, you came walking toward him in a quick pace. Hugging him so tight to make sure he was really there. And Giyuu? He always breathed in your scent. One hand on your face needing to look in the depth of your orbs to make sure, you were there and wouldn't leave, like everyone else.

He grew attached, more than that he loved you. He cared deeply, and yet saying it out loud felt so dangerous.

That poor boy was afraid you would slip away when he wasn't careful enough. Although you would never fade, for what reason?

He may be quiet, but he listened to you, he loved when you were yapping around. Or even the deep talk you two had sometimes in the middle of the night, when you slipped into his room after your late night shift was done.   

But right now? Oh, you were mad. And why? He did his job, as a Hashira eliminated a demon.

But when he had been coming back it was so close that he could've died, you were freaking out...because you were afraid. "Don't act like that would've been nothing. Look at you." you scolded him, as he stood in front of you. You looked everywhere except his eyes.

"I did my job, you are fully aware that I am a demon slayer, what is the trouble. That's not the first time I come back and not be unharmed." he asked, his voice sounded nonchalant.

He wasn't sure how to respond to your subtle anger, especially not when he was wounded.

Probably he didn't even understand the fact that you liked him so much, that you were actually worried. You sighted trying to make the bandage sit a little better.

"Are you mad?" he asked you then, he sat there shirtless as you personally took care of his wounds. Just a little more to the left and his wound would have been critical. You didn't just see Giyyu as a demon slayer or Hashira anymore. You were afraid that someday, he wouldn't come back. Furthermore, you never doubted his talent, but you were worried.

"Do I look happy?" you asked him back, shortly narrowing your eyes. Now he sighted, he thought he did something wrong. Disappointing? Fighting not hard enough? Being not good enough because he was harmed?

These were his thoughts, although it was quite the opposite.

"You don't." he replied curtly, with a heavy voice, his head was making scenarios.

"Right I am not, when that demon would have hit you just a little more left....you would have been dangerously wounded." you meant while you reached around his torso for the bandage. 

  "I endured worse things. I don't understand why you are making a fuss." probably this was not the answer you wanted to hear. Or that anyone want to hear. You loved him, cared so deep for him. It was not a fuss, at least not for you. You saw a lot of demon slayers die in your job, and you didn't want to have him on the list. You were done with the bandage and looked at him, sad eyes coupled with angry ones.

"A fuss? Is that what you think I do when you get back?" You asked him, your voice carried a hint of annoyance. Both of you kinda talking, not straight to the topic. You were worried, and he thought he was not good enough.

"(Y/N)...you patch me up. You come looking for me, I don't mean that you don't do your duty as nurse I..." Giyuu was lost for words. Well, what happened when he came back?

Yeah, it was you, you took your sweet time patching him up carefully. Listened to his dangerous adventure and after that? Showering him with praise and kisses, just to see how badly wounded he is and when it was not, that exhausting, you gifted him with passionate nights.

He grew accustomed to this routine, always wanting to be good for you. Not a lot of people liked him or took even interest in him. Not at all. He was just so afraid he would lose you, before he had the chance to acknowledge his feelings.

"We both know I do more than that...it's not what I meant." you said, and you were done patching him up at least as good as it could get now, because after this he stood up, ignored the pain in his ribs just to take his haori and put it on.

Giyuus face had a slight scowl in his brows, his black long ponytail just slightly disheveled from the journey back and the exhaustion. The bandage around his lower torso, his strong chest showing off even when the haori was already over his shoulders. He made his way to the door.

"I know that we...we are having a thing. That you do more than every other nurse in this estate would do. I just don't understand what is different now then before...." maybe he even mumbled that to himself. With a sigh he opened the door ready to go outside, he was not good dealing with arguments. Not that he couldn't say anything, but with you, it was different. He didn't want to say the wrong thing. He couldn't even bear the face you made. This was when it hit you, he was not going because he was angry too, he was going because he was afraid he fucked up and didn't even know why. Your steps then went fast over to him, and you grabbed the door with your hand before you stopped him from leaving. Gently closing it. "What do you think will happen when we fight, Tomioka?" you asked him, clearly a whole different topic than before. You looked a little strict but your features softer now.   

  Should he be honest? That he was simply afraid he did something truly wrong and lost you? Well, this was at least what he was thinking. Losing that pretty nurse, that made him feel...loved.

"We split, isn't it like that? Not that it would be a surprise." he spoke then, looking everywhere, but not in your face.

"Look at me, when you talk to me. I taught you manners." you meant, it was sounding a little sharp but with that edge...you were softer now. You saw what his problem had been, he didn't got the fact that you were concerned for him, afraid he could die. You liked him too...maybe even more than like. Then Giyuu looked up, poor boy, he was so distance and cold until he met you. He loved your warmth, the way you made him feel prickly in his chest. The way you smiled, the way you brushed strands of his raven hair out of his face. The way your waist felt in his hands, when he pulled you close. The way you smelled when he nuzzled his face in your neck.

"Giyuu..." you started and used his first name, your sweet voice filled with a little regret that you didn't see it that he was insecure, afraid to even.

"Just because I am mad don't mean we split... I am sorry when I made you feel unwanted. It was not-" before you could even finish, he stepped closer, his one hand reaching out cupping your cheek. It was even enough for him to hear that you don't split. You were his only person he wanted to have close now, where he allowed himself to be close.

"You didn't make me feel unwanted. It was just...the way you scolded me, making me...fear I did something that upset you so much you would change your mind about me." he said to you, his voice was now lower. "And I don't want to upset you. I just can't change the fact that fighting demons is my job, and apparently I am quite good at it." he added.

You laid your hand over his. It was a tender gesture. Nearly like all the tension flew away suddenly.   

  "I was just afraid... I don't want to lose you. You know? I see demon slayers die every day... I like you, you know. You don't complain about my yapping, the way you hold me close. I like all these things, and I was just concerned. Sorry that it overwhelm me and that I was being too hard to you." alone the fact that you apologized because you maybe reacted a little over in such a moment. The fact you spoke out you didn't want to lose him, that you liked him. Giyuu was anything than good at expressing his feelings. He pulled you just a little closer to give you such a loving kiss on your forehead. Before his forehead rested against yours. He took a deep breath.

"Actually (Y/N), I like you more than just...like. That is why I fear you wouldn't keep me around when I wasn't good enough." it was a little plain, not the passionate confessing others dreamed off. But it was his confession. The way he told you he loved you.

"You are a Hashira, you are one of the best, the best. My best." you answered him before you then reached out and placed a kiss on his lips. It was sweet at first, all the feeling you two had poured into this kiss. All at once. Then your hands slid up his bare chest. You felt his muscles tensing slightly, the way he shivered when your cold fingertips went over his skin. Before you laid your hands around the back of his neck.

"So we are going back to the usual routine when you patch me up?" he then asked, with flushed cheeks his one hand had grabbed gently your waist pulling you closer. He was still injured, and in pain, at least with certain movements. He just spoke in between the kiss, loving the way your lips felt against his.

"Depends on how much are you hurt?" you asked in between before gently guiding him back to the bed for patients. Where he sat down. Looking up at you with such ocean eyes. It was always so cute when he blushed because he was excited. "Not that much...you could be on top." He suggested with a tone kinda desperate for you. He would lie when he said he wouldn't love the fact that after you patched him up that you gave him such a delightful treatment. You guided him to lay down and straddled his lap, your cute nurse skirt rising up a little, and his hands went to the new exposed creamy skin he found. Rough hands caressing you. You then tilted your head just a little. Maybe one round he could take before he really should rest. "Oh, is that so? Not so much? Well while I will try to make you feel better, you can just continue to tell me how much you like me, that's a deal right?" Your voice was sweet when you said that, the whole argument forgotten, but of course not the fact that he admitted he liked you more than just a bit. And you would use this now to your advantage and gifting him with his beloved patching up routine...  

[crafty-butch]

Embalmed

A short story by me (tw: body horror, self-harm kinda)

Did you know embalming isn't actually that common, worldwide? I didn't. Sure, there are some famous exceptions–looking at you, pharaohs–but embalming random schlubs is mostly a US thing. Plenty of religions ban it outright. Islam, Judaism, several branches of Christianity…

Bear with me. I promise I have a point.

Anyway, I've got no opinion on what God wants us to do with our corpses. I've never been religious. I'm still not, weird as that sounds. But I'm with Islam, Judaism, and several branches of Christianity on this one. Just skip the embalming and bury the body before it starts to rot. It'll be easier for everyone, on the off chance someone decides to bring them back.

No, this isn't a joke. Look, I'm not saying it's likely, okay? I know the stats. Less than twenty confirmed resurrections in the last half-century. Maybe twice that many ambiguous cases. Actually ambiguous, that is. Just because someone is flaired “unconfirmed” on r/Resurrected doesn't mean there's a chance in Hell they're legit. So, yeah, I get it's unlikely. But let's jump back to embalming real quick.

You know how it works, right? At least vaguely? Blood goes out, formaldehyde goes in. Well, that's step one. Step two is sucking all the non-blood fluids out of your body cavity and swapping those for embalming fluid too. They also sew your mouth shut, stuff some cotton in you to stop any leaking–I could go on, but I won't. Like I said, I don't have any issue with embalming from a treatment-of-the-dead-body standpoint. I'm not trying to make anyone feel bad for embalming Great-Aunt Edith, here. I'm just saying, if the dead body becomes an alive body, you can see why there might be some issues.

Yeah, yeah, I know what you're going to say: “It's magic, dumbass.” And, yes, it is. That's why waking up with your mouth sewn shut and your body stuffed full of formaldehyde doesn't immediately kill you again. Doesn't make it fun, though.

Okay, maybe I shouldn't focus on the mouth thing. I'm sure it's happened to someone, but my sister cut the stitches out before she brought me back. She was thorough like that. I just feel like it's easier to picture, you know? Mouth won't open and hurts when you try. The rest of it's harder.

I don't blame my sister for not dealing with the formaldehyde. I know there wasn't much she could do about it. If she'd had more time, I'm sure she could've come up with something, but once you've dug up a body, you're kind of on a (ha) deadline. If someone sees you, you're done. So I get it. I've had a lot of time to think it over, and I'm still not sure what she could've done better. Other than just letting me stay dead.

I don't want to sound ungrateful, but…maybe I am? A little bit? I know that's an awful thing to say. It's not like I wanted to die. That's not what this is about. It's also not about how super amazingly great the afterlife is. Sorry to disappoint, but I have no idea. I don't remember anything between the hospital and waking up on the grass with a chest full of embalming fluid. Does that mean there's nothing after? Or did coming back just give me amnesia? No idea. I leave that one to the philosophers.

My sister probably would've had an opinion.

She was always…

Let me tell you about my sister.

She was great. I'm not saying this because of what happened. She really was incredible. Almost perfect. One of those people who's so smart and so kind and so beautiful and so goddamn humble but not so humble you can even accuse them of humblebragging, to the point where you can't help but hate them a little for making you look so fucking shitty in comparison and then you feel like the biggest bitch in the world and that just makes you hate them more.

Okay, maybe she wasn't quite as perfect as all that. After I came back, I learned some things. Turns out she was just as much of a fuckup as me, in her own way. She was just better at hiding it. But I never met that version of her. In my memories, she's still just Little Miss Impossibly Perfect. I wish she'd told me about any of it. Maybe…

No, that isn't fair. Why would she tell me anything that could get her in trouble? Maybe I would've hated her less, or maybe I would've just gone and told our parents. Even once we grew up. Would I really have been able to resist knocking her off that pedestal? I'd like to think I would, but come on. Look how I'm talking about her. And that's after she sold her soul for me.

If you're thinking right now that the world probably would've been better off with her instead of me, you're not the only one. Don't worry, I won't take it personally. Or maybe you're not thinking that at all. I've been told I project onto other people.

Maybe you're just confused about why I'm talking about her in the past tense. After all, it's not like selling your soul kills you, and you've probably never met someone unensouled. Or maybe you have, and you know exactly why I'm talking like this. Probably not, though. There are a lot more unensouled than there are people who were resurrected–people sell their souls for all sorts of reasons–but there are a lot more fakers too. Pro tip: if someone claiming they sold their soul gives any sign of caring about literally anything, including whether you believe them, they're lying to you.

So, yeah, she's still here. I know I keep saying it, but I'm not religious. I don't think my sister is burning in Hell while her empty husk sits up here, and if you ask me, that's just a real convenient excuse not to help the person who's still right there in front of you. Whatever a “soul” actually is, there's clearly someone here.

Sorry, I might be preaching to the choir here. And I don't want to sound like I think every religious person thinks that way. I just made the mistake of talking to my parents this weekend, and I'm still a little mad. Or a lot mad. Look, I know I'm getting off topic. Just, real quick, I want to explain.

She's still my sister. I'm not denying that. I keep saying she was this or she was that because she's not really any of those things anymore. She's not cruel, but she doesn't care enough to be kind. I'm sure she's still smart, but she doesn't actually want to use her smarts for anything. She barely eats if I don't pester her into it. I don't think she'd have an opinion on what my lack of memory says about the afterlife anymore. But, hey, maybe she would. Maybe I should ask.

Anyway. None of this is really my point. My point is, waking up next to your own open grave is freaky enough when you're not choking on formaldehyde. It took weeks before I was mostly bleeding blood again. (Yeah, I checked. Don't judge. You'd be curious too.) I coughed up embalming fluid for months. My insides still don't feel quite right. I could get them checked out, but I'll be honest with you. I don't want to know. I haven't been anywhere near a doctor since I got back.

I know, you don't think this will happen to you. No one you know is the right combination of smart enough to wade through all the bullshit to figure out how to revive you and stupid enough to go through with it. And you're probably right. But I thought that too.

[pearlzier]

maybe this is odd but. i can totally imagine matt being down bad for chris’s baby mama. like he was neutral about her when chris and her were hooking up but when she got pregnant/had the kid and she started hanging around the house more?? yeah, he was completely done for

wait. no i get it .... i get it !!! brother's baby mama!reader.... bbm!reader.... LMFAO / mdni for this thanksies 😋

matt didn't mind you all that much when you and chris got together. you're his brother's girlfriend, not much to say about you, he supposes. you're pretty cool, you make chris happy. yeah, you're pretty. incredibly so, matt knows that—he's not insane to think otherwise. your company's nice, when you hang out with him, nick and chris, he's happy to have you around. but you were nothing more than his brother's girlfriend, right? he didn't have feelings for you or anything.

till that fucking changed. matt had noticed you were acting a little different as of late, just slightly. foods you usually liked were putting you off, you got sick in the mornings a lot and you were just a little different. he hadn't thought you were pregnant with chris' kid, no. but along with nick, he'd found out when chris had come bounding down the stairs all excited about becoming a father. he knew the two of you were fucking, had heard it before but he'd thought you were using protection or you were on birth control, at least.

he didn't think it'd affect him all that much, but here he was, staring at you like a damn dog. you just look good. you're over at the house a lot more now, and his eyes find themselves on you a lot more too. he likes the way you dress more casually, more comfortably now, which means he gets to see more of you. particularly those tank tops, god, your tits look so good beneath the white cotton. the way your nipples pebble against it? he can't take it.

"you okay?" he'd ask you. "just sore, but y'know," matt knows they're sore too, he'd love to massage them for you and relieve the aching pain but that'd be crossing some sort of line, he knows. but he wishes those lines weren't there. "hope you feel better, alright? ask chris for a massage or somethin', don't want you achin' all day." he settled for, knowing he couldn't offer much else.

matt doesn't know what it is that's gotten him so pent up over you but he doesn't want it to stop. honestly? he kind of, no, not kind of, really wishes that he could've filled you up with his cum and gotten you pregnant with his kid. he would've pumped you full a thousand times over to have you stuffed full of him. it gets so bad that he finds himself pumping his fist over his cock in bed at the thought of getting you pregnant, or even just cumming inside of you and watching it ooze out of you.

he started realising how damn sweet you are and how badly he wants you for himself. every damn time he sees you, he wishes he'd gotten to you first instead of chris. it's definitely selfish, he knows, but he can't help himself. matt catches himself literally restocking the fridge with food he knows you're craving, just to feel better about everything. when you notice, you immediately think it's chris who got it for you—"chris? did you get me food?" chris is confused, no, he doesn't think so. he was gonna go tonight, "uh, no?"

well, hey, it's food, so you're not exactly complaining all that much. matt realises you just shrugged it off, and he feels the tiniest pang of disappointment as he glances away from the kitchen, looking back at his phone. he hears your footsteps from where he's sat, hearing them beside him. but he's taken off guard when he feels your hand on his shoulder. "thank you," it's simple, those two words, but the kiss you press to his cheek as you wander back off to do whatever, yeah, it makes his cock twitch in his pants and he has to practically sprint upstairs, locking himself in his room for an hour or so.

[yoongiseesawmp3]

anything but - jeonghan

summary: roommate!jeonghan. you thought living with your best friend, jeonghan, would be easy. fun. like a sleepover every night. but as he watches you struggle week in and week out with crushes that don't like you back or dates that never seem to go well, he decides to take matters into his own hands.

word count: 8.2k

warnings: none rly, afab reader, unedited, sry

masterlist

jeonghan is ready to go to sleep. he had a long day, followed by a good, but tiring, night with friends, and he's been thinking about his soft sheets for the past two hours now. he's also been thinking about you, thinking about how happy he gets seeing your face light up when he walks through the door, but he knows he won't see that tonight. you're going on a date, dinner with some loser who's not him. he knows he could treat you so much better, but he can't just say that. things would get weird, and jeonghan can't afford the rent on his own. so selfishly, he keeps you and his feelings at arm's length. he's still thinking about you as he puts his key in the lock, wondering if he can stay up late enough to make sure you get home safe. when he opens the door, he changes his mind.

"what are you doing here?" jeonghan asks with a bit of anger in his voice, finding you laid out on the couch scrolling through your phone. "you told me you were going on a date tonight. did you cancel on him?"

"nope," you reply, popping the p as you sit up to stare at your roommate. "he cancelled on me. ten minutes before he was supposed to pick me up, actually, so i got ready for nothing."

that's when jeonghan notices the nice clothes you have on, your hair done up but mussed now that you've been laying on it. and, with a pang in his chest, he notices your makeup that looks smudged with tears. he knows you've been having dating trouble lately, and it's definitely been getting to you. but it makes his heart ache to think that you've been home all night crying over some loser who couldn't even bother to take you out.

"why didn't you call me?" he asks softly, joining you on the couch as he lifts your legs to lay them over his lap. he keeps a comforting hand on your calf as you explain, a slight tremor in your bottom lip as you say, "i didn't want to interrupt boy's night."

"baby, come on," he sighs. "you should have told me. you could've come to boy's night!"

"right," you scoff, rolling your eyes. "and hear all of them talk about their beautiful girlfriends and being so happy in a relationship? i'd rather eat drywall."

"we talk about other stuff," jeonghan laughs. "i told them about you getting us tickets to that soccer game and now i think they like you better than me. mingyu might be calling to see if he can take my ticket."

"never," you smile at him, sitting up and swinging your legs from his lap. "well, it's late. you're probably tired."

"eh," jeonghan shrugs, looking over you carefully to gauge if you're upset. "i could stay up a little longer, if you wanted to watch something."

"we're caught up on all our shows though," you pout. jeonghan sees an idea cross your face, so he asks, "what are you thinking?"

"nothing," you shake your head. "i remembered i didn't watch project runway last week, but you don't like that show-"

"put it on," he nods to the tv, looking over you one more time and noticing your clothes must not be that comfortable. "or you go change, i'll set it up."

"you don't know what episode i'm on though," you squint at him, and he shakes his head.

"nope, you're two weeks behind," he says. "i remember, because we went out the week before and you were ticked off that you were missing it."

"you pay too much attention to me," you mumble as you finally get up from the couch, jeonghan barely hearing you as he checks you out from behind. you're right, he does. too bad you haven't realized why.

when you come back from your room, you're wearing a hoodie that's seen better days and shorts that aren't quite doing their job. jeonghan clears his throat, trying not to stare, but when you sit down and put your legs back over his lap he can't help but skirt his hand over your skin, getting too close to your thigh without realizing.

"that tickles," you giggle, pushing his hand away. "you're annoying."

"ha, sorry," he laughs nervously, not sure what to do with his hands now so he reaches for the remote to press play. not far into the episode you curl up on your side of the couch, your knees tucked up beneath you as you lay down. jeonghan keeps an eye on you the whole time, attune to all your reactions and movements. he notices when you shiver, up in an instant to get a blanket.

"where are you going?" you call out, and he comes back wordlessly with the comforter from his room. he wraps it over you, using the rest of it to cover himself as he gets comfortable again. you find yourself dozing off, waking up every few minutes to see the progress on your favorite designers. you sleep through a whole section of the show, whining that you need to rewind, but jeonghan quietly explains what's happened and you're satisfied enough.

"do you want me to turn this off?" jeonghan asks after he sees your eyes closed again after you just complained about missing part of the show. you shake your head, not much of it visible outside of his blanket. you're noticing how nice his blanket smells, recognizing it as the same fresh scent that follows jeonghan around. it makes you feel at home, and that's part of what's making you so sleepy.

"i don't wanna go to my room," you admit shyly, feeling the tears from earlier just a moment or two away. "i'll stay awake, promise."

"do you want to sleep out here?" jeonghan asks, and you think about it for a moment. it wouldn't be the first time you had a little sleepover of sorts, both of you squished awkwardly on the couch or sleeping far apart from each other on someone's mattress that's been dragged out from one of your rooms. your silence decides it for jeonghan, and he says, "i'll go change, and then we can go to sleep." all you do is nod, getting comfortable beneath his comforter again as jeonghan slinks back to his bedroom to get ready for bed.

he comes back out and laughs to himself, your messy hair and scrunched sleepy face pulling at his heart. he knows someday he should tell you how he feels. he knows what you're looking for, and he knows he's perfect for you. it's just a matter of time before you figure that out, too.

-

a few days later, jeonghan was in the middle of a nap when he heard mumbling in the hallway and the sound of someone slamming doors. he was worried for only a few minutes, thinking it could possibly be an intruder, but as the mumbling gets closer to his door he knows there's a very frustrated y/n on the other side. he groans as he hoists himself up, shuffling to the door so he can peek out at you putting laundry away in the most irritated way possible. it's like you're trying to punish the towels for existing, and jeonghan can't help but laugh at the annoyed look on your face. it's cute, he finds himself thinking, but his chuckle pulls you from your dark thoughts and brings your anger to a new victim.

"what."

"nothing," jeonghan says defensively. "i thought someone was breaking in, you know, with all the banging around."

"shut up," you mumble, shoving the washcloths into the hall closet before slamming the door. you turn to your best friend and roommate, finger pointed accusingly, "i'm in a bad mood so don't piss me off."

"that explains the stress cleaning," he notes, and you ignore him.

"i'm going downstairs to put the dishes away," you grumble as you pass by him to get to the stairs, and he puts a timid hand on your shoulder.

"maybe do something that involves less breakables," he says coolly. "go punch a pillow or something."

"that's a good idea," you say, face lighting up slightly, and he laughs nervously as he finally asks what's wrong. "you remember that bitch of a dude who i was talking to a couple weeks ago?"

"gar bear?" jeonghan asks, and you roll your eyes.

"gary, yeah."

"what about him?" he asks, watching you unlock your phone and scroll to find something. you shove it into his hands, open to a very disturbing picture of a very ugly dick. "no."

"yeah. at three pm on a fucking thursday."

"stop making me look at it," he whines, pushing your phone back to you. "that's what made you mad?"

"yes!" you shout. "how did that thought process work? oh, this girl who i led on and then gaslit and then weirded out, she really needs to see my dick right now. it's the middle of the day! get a job! contribute to society!!!"

"why's he posing like that?" jeonghan asks, noticing more about the photo since you haven't locked your phone yet. "he looks so stiff."

"please stop," you say, but jeonghan sees a smile pulling at your lips.

"so what did you do?"

"i said 'what is your problem' and then i blocked him," you shrug, and he laughs.

"remind me to never piss you off," he says as he wraps an arm around you. "i'm sorry guys are assholes."

"i think i'm gonna become a nun," you mumble into his shoulder, staying in his hold maybe a minute too long. he presses a quick kiss to the crown of your head before letting you go, a blush on your cheeks that he takes pride in.

"you'd suck at being a nun, you're not nice enough," he jokes, and the way you glare at him makes him smile. "plus you fuck too much, aren't they supposed to be celibate?"

"forget punching pillows, i'm gonna punch you."

"sure baby," he chuckles, looking back at you as he walks downstairs. "you want food or something? i'll do the dishes. you just focus on not burning down the patriarchy."

"no promises," you mumble as you follow behind him. "but yeah, i wanna try this recipe i found the other day..."

it's over dinner that night that you realize how perfect jeonghan is. if only you could find a guy just like your best friend. someone who supports you, makes you smile, know how to get your heart to skip a beat. take, for example, his compliments. you like to joke to jeonghan that you need validation on your cooking, like tinkerbell, so whenever you cook for him the praises are nonstop. he's nothing if not supportive, so he tries to find things to comment on that he knows will make you blush. it works, and you do your best to tell him to stop without making it obvious that your heart is doing somersaults at his words.

this is what you want from a relationship, you find yourself thinking. you want to be comfortable with them, feel supported, all the things that jeonghan gives you. that night, you scroll through your dating apps, looking for a guy you think could meet those standards. in reality, you spend the whole night comparing the men on your screen to your roommate, subconsciously thinking of all the things you like most about jeonghan that these losers don't possess. you fall asleep like that, phone open to an empty chat, with jeonghan still on your mind.

-

so, a downside to living with jeonghan is you get the brunt end of all his weird energy. sometimes it's fun, and manifests itself in silly ways. like when you go thrifting, he takes it upon himself to find the weirdest thing in the store and insists on bringing it home. it means your apartment is decorated uniquely, but some of the stranger things you make him keep in his room. you haven't figured out yet that he only does this to make you laugh, loving how you smile sweetly at all the funny trinkets littered around your house. anything that goes into his room is eventually donated back to goodwill, its purpose served, doomed to delight another unassuming shopper some day.

other times, his weird energy comes out in worse ways. like today, he's not home, but you can feel that something's wrong. you know jeonghan is helping his friends with some video shoot, and he won't be home until much later. but there's a vibe in your apartment when you walk in. something is off, and it doesn't take you long to realize it. jeonghan has moved everything around, the couch where your kitchen table should be, the chairs from the table lined up in place of your couch. he's a strange one, your best friend, but it makes you laugh nonetheless, sending him a picture of the chairs and asking, "how am i supposed to fall asleep watching tv on this?!"

jeonghan smiles when he gets your text, shooting back, "watch tv in your room if you know you're just gonna fall asleep!"

really, he did the switcharoo for you to let your guard down. yes, moving furniture around is something silly that he would do, but he hid something further in the house that he wants you to find. he's hoping he'll be home when you do, but just the mere thought of your reaction has him chuckling. he goes back to whatever vernon wanted him to do, curious at each buzz from his phone, wondering if it's you.

jeonghan got the best of you, like usual. you did just go to your room, putting on one of your comfort shows so you could relax after a boring shift at work. you only get up to make a quick meal, dozing off again with the empty plate beside you. when the tv wakes you up you figure it's just time for you to go to bed, so you shuffle to the kitchen and notice a light coming from under jeonghan's door. he must have come home while you were napping, but it's late, so you go about your business. you drop your things off in the kitchen, returning upstairs to grab a washcloth and towel from the closet before you lock yourself in the bathroom. jeonghan is listening intently as you move around, waiting for the sound of the shower curtain pulling back and-

"JEONGHAN?!"

with sock clad feet that send him crashing through the now open bathroom door, he greets you with a shit eating grin. "you rang?"

"what the FUCK is that doing in here," you bellow, pointing at the plastic skeleton jeonghan found at the party store earlier that day. he thought it would be funny to hide in the apartment, at first just thinking about propping it up in the kitchen like the dead guy was making a meal, but the idea of scaring you a little was too good for him to pass up.

"man, when was the last time you cleaned your bathroom?" jeonghan jokes, "he must've been in here a while."

"fuck you," you spit, heart still racing from the surprise. that's when jeonghan notices something: you're naked. well, not entirely. like, you definitely don't have clothes on, his eyes flicking down to see your discarded panties and sleep shirt on the floor. he can't see the goods though because you're dangerously holding a towel over your body, one edge of it slipping as you reach out to try and punch jeonghan.

"what, you don't like him?" jeonghan pouts, stepping out of the bathroom to protect himself. "i thought you said you wanted to start decorating for halloween."

"this is not what i meant and you know it, you jackass," you try to say meanly, but jeonghan finds it cute. "it scared the shit out of me."

"i'm sorry," he says finally, hands twitching to reach out and grab you by the waist so he can rub comforting circles on your skin. but he can't. he physically shakes his hands out, a thing he does often enough to reset his mind that you look at him quizzically.

"why'd you do that?" you ask, and he clasps his hands behind his back defensively.

"felt like it," he shrugs. you roll your eyes and reach for the door, grumbling more expletives at him as you try to shut it in his face. "um, y/n?"

"what."

"you gonna shower with him?" jeonghan asks, pointing to your new friend. "i gotta admit, i'm a little jealous-"

"oh my god," you groan, grabbing the skeleton and throwing it at jeonghan with a comical clangor of plastic bones. "i hate you."

"love you too baby," jeonghan laughs as he closes the door for you, hefting the skeleton over his shoulder to go hide him in another corner of the house.

-

a few days later (jeonghan has hid the skeleton twice now), you come home from a date, dopey smile still on your face. you gasp when you see a body on the couch, thinking it's that stupid skeleton again. you breathe a sigh of relief when you realize it's a snoozing jeonghan instead. he looks angelic, his soft features shining brightly even in the dark room, illuminated by the tv. you don't realize that you're staring, nor do you realize jeonghan is peeking at you, the sound of the door waking him up.

"hey," he calls quietly, startling you. "sorry. i can go back to sleep and you can keep staring."

"i wasn't staring," you say defensively.

"sure," jeonghan nods, checking you out. "you look nice."

"who's staring now?" you ask as you cross to the kitchen. "i went out to dinner, but the portions were too small. do you want something to eat?"

"no, i'm good!" jeonghan calls. "was it a fancy place?"

"what?" you ask, coming back into the living room with a bag of chips. "i couldn't hear you."

"where you ate," he clarifies. "you dressed up, the servings were small, must have been a fancy place this guy took you to."

"how'd you know i was on a date?" you pout.

"y/n, i know you better than anyone else," jeonghan chuckles. "it was obvious. how'd it go?"

"good," you nod, ears burning under jeonghan's close attention. "don't wanna jinx it though."

"ok," jeonghan nods. "well i'm glad it was a good date. you deserve one of those."

"how was your night?" you ask. jeonghan shifts on the couch so there's room for you to sit and join him. once you're settled he explains how his friend seungcheol had come over for drinks, but he left a little while ago.

"i think he's got a girlfriend and doesn't want to tell me," jeonghan says, "because he feels bad that i'm not seeing anybody."

"you want me to find you a lady?" you tease. "you know my friends love you, i'm sure it'd be easy.''

"no," he shakes his head so some of his hair falls in his eyes. it makes it easier for him to stare at you without you noticing. "i'm good."

"well, it's a standing offer," you say as you get up to return the chips to the pantry. when you walk back through the living room, you ask, "where's jack tonight? i'm about to shower, i don't want another heart attack."

"i put the skeleton in your bed," jeonghan smiles with an impish glint in his eyes. "i figured it would be a nice surprise for the poor sap you might have brought home."

"you're annoying."

"thanks!" jeonghan chirps, and you laugh before telling him goodnight. he watches you go, smiling at something on your phone. jeonghan feels a pang in his chest ever so slightly, but he shakes it off, turning the tv off before he goes back to sleep trying not to think about you.

-

the following week, you're acting off. jeonghan notices immediately, but he doesn't bring it up to you at first. he's not sure if maybe work is stressing you, or maybe you've got family stuff going on...whatever it is, he'll give it a day or two before he checks on you, knowing how you like having time to yourself before someone swoops in to help.

the reality is, you really like this guy you've been talking to. that first date was amazing, and you wanted to go out with him again as soon as possible. you talk all the time, always ducking into your room when he calls while you're around jeonghan. you're actually ignoring jeonghan a lot, which you feel bad about, but you just can't get enough of this new guy. even though you're talking a lot, it's hard to set up another date with him because you're both busy with work. you've got plans to hang out on sunday, and for the first time in a long time, you're excited for a date. not nervous, not dreading it, just pure schoolgirl crush excitement.

that's why it's so crushing when, a few hours before, the guy texts you and cancels. you play it off at first, asking when he's free to reschedule, but his response is basically telling you to get lost. it hurts your feelings more than it should, because he is just some loser dude, but you also didn't know him that long. you have no reason to be so devastated over this, but you are.

jeonghan knew about your second date with this guy, so he made plans to be out of the house for as long as possible on sunday. as selfish as it was, he didn't want to be there for the giddy getting ready (you always ask him for outfit advice and he always tells you that you look great) or for the nervous pacing while you waited for the guy to pick you up (jeonghan always distracts you with jokes to calm your nerves). he also didn't want to be there after the date, if you happened to bring the lucky guy home. so he's out running errands, bothering his friends, and killing time until he's sure he won't walk in on anything he doesn't want to see.

when jeonghan gets home, it's late. after his day of farting around he went to his friend wonwoo's apartment for a while to heckle him while he played video games, and wonwoo finally kicked him out.

"don't you need to go home to your girlfriend?" wonwoo had teased, and jeonghan kicked him from his spot on the couch.

"y/n's my best friend and my roommate."

"so basically your girlfriend," wonwoo smiles that little smile of his, and it annoys jeonghan.

"she doesn't think of it like that," jeonghan mumbles, looking for his phone so he can head home anyway.

"because you're being too subtle."

"i'm not trying to be anything!" jeonghan says defensively. "i don't want her to know."

"why not?" wonwoo asks, finally turning to look at his friend. "you afraid she'll say no? because we all think-"

"i'll see you later, ok?" jeonghan says quickly, his shoes barely on as he tries to unlock the door. "hope cheol doesn't kill you again."

"in his dreams," wonwoo mumbles, his attention effectively back on the game and off of jeonghan.

jeonghan comes home to a mostly dark apartment, the stove light in the kitchen the only indication that you got home before him. he stops at the door to make sure there's no...unpleasant sounds coming from elsewhere, and when he's met with silence he kicks his shoes off carefully before heading to his room. he's exhausted, hiding from you all day being a good way to wear a person out. when he passes by your room something catches his ear, and his heart stops. were you moaning?

jeonghan knows he shouldn't, but he presses his ear against your door, telling himself he's only doing this so he can decide if he needs to stay somewhere else tonight. he's waiting to hear another voice, a man's voice, but he's met with a quiet whimper, followed by some sniffles. his heart roars back to life hearing that, almost breaking to pieces when he realizes you're not moaning, you're in your room crying. he's opening the door before he knows what he's doing, and you jump out of your skin at the unwelcome intrusion.

"go away," you whisper. jeonghan ignores you, coming to your bedside and looking down at you with concern in his eyes. "jeonghan, please. go away-"

"why are you crying?" he asks, and you don't say anything. "what did that asshole do?"

"nothing," you sniff again, willing your tears to stay back as you try to appease your roommate long enough for him to decide you're fine and leave you alone. "h-he was bu-busy and had to cancel-"

"fuck him."

"yeah, whatever," you say shakily. "it doesn't matter. i'm fine. now leave. please." your eyes are closed, trying to hide the tears that are welling up, and jeonghan is so quiet you assume he left, but he's trying not to let his own emotions show as he calls your name.

"y/n," jeonghan whispers, and when you look up at him you can't help it. you start crying again seeing him so upset over you being so upset, and before long you're back to bawling your eyes out. you barely register jeonghan cooing softly at you, climbing into bed and scooping you up into his arms. his lips are pressing soft kisses up and down your hairline, and it makes you cry even more. this is what you want, you think. this is what you need, what you've been missing. you want a boyfriend that will care for you like jeonghan does, that will be there for you like jeonghan is. it physically hurts you to think that you may never have that, that there's a possibility you'll never feel that kind of romantic love from someone. and you want to say that, you want to tell jeonghan why he came home to you pathetically crying so much, but he doesn't care. he just wants you to stop, so he'll hold you in his arms whispering sweet jokes to you until there's no more tears. he gets the slightest smile out of you right before you doze off, hands bunched into his shirt holding on for dear life. jeonghan holds you tighter, pressing one last kiss to the tip of your snotty nose before he drifts off to sleep with you.

-

you wake up later, not quite in the morning, but a few hours have passed. you're not used to sharing a bed with someone, especially when that person has such a vice grip on you as jeonghan does. once your mind has registered that you're awake, you also feel the burn of someone's eyes on you. sure enough, when you peek into the darkness of your room you see jeonghan staring back, eyebrows creased and teeth nibbling his bottom lip.

"stop chewing your lip," you tell him, reaching out to tug it from between his teeth. "i'm fine. you don't need to worry about me."

"wrong," he replies, watching you intensely as he brushes a strand of hair behind your ear. the quiet that follows has your face heating up, and the heat spreads through the rest of your body. it feels like every point where jeonghan's body is pressed against yours is on fire, and you want to pull away. but you don't.

"why aren't you in your room."

"because i wanted to sleep here," he replies. "i hope that's ok."

"it's not-"

"bummer," jeonghan cuts you off. "i'm not leaving."

"i'm not crying anymore though," you point out. "so. i'm fine."

"nope," he shakes his head. his bangs fall back into his eyes, and you think briefly he must need a haircut, but you hope he doesn't get one. the long hair suits him, even if it keeps him from seeing sometimes. you don't think about it, your hand unclenching his shirt and instead reaching up to brush his hair out of his face. jeonghan watches you carefully, and your breath gets caught in your throat when you look back down to his eyes. he's staring at you so intensely you can feel it in your chest, and that's when it hits you: jeonghan. you want a boyfriend like jeonghan. well! jeonghan's right here! what are you gonna do about it?

"jeonghan, i..." you trail off, staring at him like you're seeing him in a new light. he waits patiently for you to go on, thinking you might explain the situation a little more, but you don't know what to say. you just get hit with the intense need to bury your face in his chest, breathing in his scent and listening to his heartbeat as you fall back asleep.

"what?" he asks, trying to encourage you to keep speaking.

"um, can i just-" you try, but instead of speaking you just nuzzle into his chest, nose at the base of his neck tickling his skin. "i want to go back to sleep."

"then sleep baby," he whispers as he squeezes you tighter, afraid to let go. as you fall asleep, you let your hands relax against his chest, one of them laid right over his racing heart.

-

the next morning, you wake up to an empty bed and almost convince yourself you dreamed up jeonghan last night. like an oasis in the desert, he came to you when you needed him most. a little part of you wishes it wasn't real so you could go back to a time where you didn't know your true feelings for jeonghan, but your mussed sheets proves it wasn't a dream. jeonghan's scent is still lingering on your extra pillow, and you take a deep breath and remember how it felt to be wrapped up in your best friend.

jeonghan comes back into your room with two coffees in hand and he sees you nuzzling your face into the spot where his head laid just minutes ago. he lets you wallow for a moment before he calls your name softly. you jump up, cheeks warming as you look at jeonghan in your doorway.

"morning," he smiles. he hands you your coffee, your cold hands brushing his and sparking warmth across his skin. he stops himself from leaning down to kiss your forehead, knowing that whatever intimacy you shared last night is probably left in the past. you were sad, and jeonghan was there to comfort you. he'd happily do that a million times over, but he doesn't think you feel the same way he does.

"jeonghan, i'm sorry about last night," you try to apologize, but he shakes his head.

"don't," he stops you. "i would do it again if you needed it."

"well if you find me crying over some loser again tonight you have full permission to slap me," you tell him. "one night was enough."

"noted," he laughs, awkwardly standing in your room, unsure if he can get back into bed with you. you pick up on the way his eyes keep flitting from you to his spot, and you pat the empty space so he'll sit down.

"stop being weird," you say, bumping shoulders with him once he's comfortably next to you again. "so how'd you sleep?"

"pretty good," he starts out, "but there was this really annyoing sound coming from your side of the bed?"

"oh you mean me crying?"

"no, like this really loud, obnoxious snoring, kinda like-" jeonghan starts demonstrating, sending you into a fit of giggles and a pushing match to get him to stop.

"i think that was you!" you shriek, carefully trying not to spill your coffee. "don't spill that in my bed, i'll kill you."

"and then who are you gonna cuddle at night?" jeonghan asks, regretting it when he feels the tension between you both.

"i could always cuddle with jack," you joke to break the awkwardness, and jeonghan rolls his eyes.

"i hate that you named the skeleton."

"the skeleton is a guest in our home," you tease him. "show him some respect."

"whatever, freak," he says before downing the rest of his coffee. he gets an idea then, turning to you to ask, "what are you doing today?"

"um, nothing except work," you reply. "but you know my job is barely real so i'm basically doing nothing."

"let's go get coffee," jeonghan says, a playful look in his eyes.

"we just had coffee," you point out.

"no, no, we'll get good coffee, you can do some work, i'll watch you do some work, it'll be great," he insists, getting up and pulling you out of bed with him.

"if you're still trying to cheer me up i swear i'm fine," you say through your laughter, pressing back against jeonghan trying to push you toward your closet. "you don't need to take me for coffee or do anything else to make me feel better. i'm fine now."

"glad to hear it," he smiles softly, squeezing your hand that's clasped firmly in his. "but i still want to get coffee, so get dressed or everyone at the cafe will see you in that god forsaken t shirt."

the t shirt in question is one that jeonghan found for you during one of your goodwill visits. for whatever reason, it says 'i shaved my balls for this' and it got the biggest laugh from you all night, so jeonghan had to bring it home. despite being awful colors (light blue paired with neon yellow) it's actually quite comfortable, and you love the way it makes jeonghan laugh every time you wear it. it's unironically become your favorite sleep shirt, but you are mortified at the thought of anyone aside from your best friend seeing you in it. you quickly change, grabbing your work laptop from your desk before you head into the living room to find jeonghan waiting for you.

it's not unusual for him to take you out on random adventures, but this one feels different. he stays closer to you than normal, insists on buying your drink, and you catch him actually watching you work.

"get a hobby," you mumble, looking down at your laptop so he hopefully won't see your blushing cheeks.

"this is my hobby," he says. "i'm hanging out with my favorite person."

"seungcheol's going to be very sad to hear he's been demoted," you tease.

"he knows where he stands," jeonghan says, still watching you intently. you can't take it anymore, staring back at him.

"seriously, pretend to read or something! you're distracting me."

"i'm distracting you?" he smiles. "why? i'm not doing anything."

"i'm sending this email and then we're leaving," you say, and he shrugs.

"if you want, baby."

baby. it hits you harder this time, jeonghan's silly little nickname for you. you thought it started off as a sarcastic thing, but recently you feel like it sounds sweeter and sweeter coming from his lips. after last night, it makes your heart skip a beat, and that's when it hits you: are you on a date with jeonghan right now?!

"wait. waitwaitwait. hold on," you say, pointing at jeonghan and then yourself. "is this a date? are we on a date?"

"what? no baby," he shakes his head, and now you're confused. "no, if we were on a date you'd know."

"what's that supposed to mean?" you squeak out.

"do you want us to be on a date right now?" jeonghan counters, and you know your blushing cheeks have you in trouble. "you do?"

"i-i don't know-"

"hm, you wanna go on a date with me," jeonghan says matter of factly. "well, that's good to know."

"what are you doing?" you ask as he starts cleaning up his space.

"oh i need to go back to the apartment," he says. "gotta get my laptop so i can start planning a date that's worthy of you. i'll see you at home?"

"jeonghan, what?" you're left sputtering as he heads to the door, not looking back even though he knows your staring. he's afraid you'll see the excited/nervous shake in his hands, so he needs to go cool off. well, that and plan the best date of your entire life. he's got a lot of ground to cover. thankfully, the idiots you usually grace your time with have set the bar pretty low. jeonghan is determined to bring it higher, so high in fact that you won't be able to go on another first date without comparing it to his. if things go right though, maybe you won't have to go on a first date ever again.

-

jeonghan left the coffeeshop before you, so it would make sense if he was at the apartment when you got back, right? wrong. you come home about an hour later to an empty home, no sign of jeonghan. you think that's fine, it gives you a chance to actually get some work done. but jeonghan being mia has you a little nervous. what's he doing? he said he was going to plan a date. for you. and him. you and jeonghan...on a date? that's crazy.

you've done a good job ignoring that whole concept, trying to get ahead on a project you need to present later this week. you're so hyperfocused that the whole day goes by before you realize it, and when you finally emerge from your room you really expect to find jeonghan in the living room. he's still gone, so you decide to text him, asking casually if he would be home for dinner. the domesticity isn't lost on you, and it makes jeonghan smile when he gets it. he decides to call instead of texting back, balancing his phone against his shoulder and his cheek once you pick up.

"you miss me or something?" he asks, and you can hear the smile in his voice.

"i was just curious," you reply nonchalantly. "you've been missing all day."

"i've been busy."

"oh ok."

"i'll be home soon though," he tells you. "don't make dinner, just make sure you're dressed in an hour."

"for what?"

"a surprise."

"i need more information and you know that," you scoff, and you hear jeonghan chuckle.

"dress nice, but not fancy. and wear something blue so we'll match," he explains, and you feel your cheeks warm. "i gotta go, but i'll see you soon, baby."

hearing that coming from jeonghan now makes your heart skip a beat, and it makes you wonder if you've always felt like this and you just didn't notice. you keep thinking about him as you get ready, steaming out a dress you were planning to wear on a date that didn't happen. it's a soft blue with long sleeves and a low tie in the front. you worry for a moment that it might be too revealing, but checking the time rushes you into action. you're almost ready when there's a knock at the front door, which you ignore. there's another knock, this time louder, so you grumble your way to the living room to peek through the peephole. you gasp when you see what's on the other side.

you throw the door open, revealing a visibly nervous jeonghan with a bouquet of flowers in his hands. he's wearing a blue shirt, almost the exact shade of your dress, and he openly stares at you with a happy smile and a look in his eyes that you've never seen before.

"jeonghan?" you ask, pulling him from his intense focus on your chest.

"y/n," he smiles, eyes flicking up to yours. "you look stunning."

"i'm not ready yet," you pout slightly, checking the time on your phone. "you weren't very specific about when you were coming home."

"you look perfect," he says, checking you out again. "what else could you need to do?"

"wouldn't you like to know?" you tease, and he rolls his eyes.

"i can give you ten minutes, but any longer than that and we'll be late."

"late for what?" you ask as he passes you the flowers. "these are beautiful by the way, carnations are-"

"your favorite, i know," he smiles softly. "you buy yourself a bunch almost every time you're at the grocery store."

"i can't remember the last time someone bought me flowers either," you mumble, opening the door enough for jeonghan to come inside. "what are you still doing out there? it's your house, come in."

"finish getting ready," he laughs at you, reaching for the flowers again. "i'm putting them in a vase, weirdo. you'll get them back when you're done getting pretty."

"i'll be back," you whisper, running off before he can see how nervous you just got. you try to calm your nerves as you finish your touch ups, panicking last minute over which shoes and purse go with your outfit.

jeonghan is sitting on the couch, your flowers in your favorite vase on the coffeetable. he perks up at the sound of you shuffling down the hallway, but he pouts when he sees you holding up all your shoes.

"y/n, we're gonna be late."

"i don't know which ones to wear," you say simply, and he smiles as he comes up to you, analyzing the choices. he picks the white shoes and the white purse.

"glad we're still keeping this tradition alive even though i'm the one taking you out this time," he says proudly, watching you get situated. you stand back up, mussing your hair one last time before he asks, "ready to go, beautiful?"

"i don't know why i'm so nervous," you tell him, taking his arm as you leave the apartment. "we hang out all the time."

"yeah, but this isn't us hanging out," jeonghan says as you wait for the elevator. "i'm taking you on the best date of your life. nerves are completely valid."

"are you nervous?" you whisper, leaning in so jeonghan gets a good whiff of your perfume that he loves finding traces of all through his life. he holds your gaze, eyes flicking down momentarily before he shakes his head.

"no, i thought i would be, but i'm not," he replies simply as you get on the elevator.

"ok good, so i'll just freak out for the both of us then."

"would you? that takes a lot of pressure off of me," jeonghan jokes, and you pinch his arm. "ouch! so mean to me when i've made the perfect night for you."

"and what does this perfect night entail?" you ask. jeonghan just shakes his head, leading you out into the lobby of the building. he takes you a different way, not walking to the parking garage but instead to the main entrance of your building. "jeonghan, are we walking there? i don't think i can make it in these shoes-"

you stop mid-sentence, spotting the shiny baby blue mustang convertible parked outside. you look at jeonghan, mouth open in surprise. he has to tug you down the hallway and out into the cool night air, helping you into the passenger seat with ease. you watch on in shock as he gets into the driver's side, finally cutting through the fog in your mind to ask, "do you even know how to drive this?"

"yeah," jeonghan says coolly, opening the glovebox to hand you a scrunchie of yours that he stole. "here, you might wanna put your hair up."

"you're insane," you tell him, playing with the scrunchie in your lap as he starts the car. you can't believe this so far, and the date's barely begun. what other surprises could he possibly have in store for you?

-

after a quick ride out of the city, you find yourself at a retro drive in that's completely empty. you have a sneaking suspicion jeonghan rented it just for the two of you tonight, but you don't have a chance to ask. once he parks, he's asking you to open the glovebox and you smile when you see the stack of movie theatre candy boxes he's stashed away. you take them out, turning back to jeonghan to see he's produced a tub of popcorn from somewhere and a couple of your favorite sodas. you stare at him with your mouth opening and closing like a fish and he just smiles proudly in return.

"jeonghan, what did you do?" you finally ask, and he laughs.

"do you like it?"

"what are we doing here?"

"watching a movie," he says obviously. he shifts the snacks, the drinks going into the holders by the radio and the popcorn and candy going on the dashboard. "come closer," he mumbles, tugging your arm. the smooth vinyl of the seats sending you flying into jeonghan's side, and you giggle nervously as you adjust your dress. jeonghan lays the snacks out over your laps and drapes his arm across your shoulders for good measure. he looks at you to gauge whether you're settled or not, and when he decides you're ready he presses on the horn once. the screen in front of you lights up, and you gasp as you see the opening credits for your favorite movie flashing before you.

"where did you get the idea to do this?" you ask him with a smile, taking a few pieces of popcorn to give you something to do with your hands.

"just thought it would be something different," he shrugs, and you leave it at that. you can barely focus on the movie, hyperaware of how warm jeonghan is next to you and how every glance he casts your way sends your heart racing faster and faster. a few minutes into it, you remember your hair is still tied up from the ride, so you shuffle out of jeonghan's grasp to pull the scrunchie down and reset yourself. you know jeonghan is watching, so you mumble, "watch the movie, weirdo."

"i've seen it before," he whispers back, eyes still heavy on you. "i'm not missing anything."

"you've seen me before too," you point out, leaning back into his side once you're done moving around. "quite a lot, actually."

"yeah, but i've never seen you on a date before," he says. "and on a date with me? whoa. i gotta soak it all in."

you turn to look at him then, admiring the way his hair falls so slightly into his eyes, the way his lips stretch over his shy smile, how his eyes glisten when they meet yours. you could kick yourself for not noticing any of this sooner. who knew you had exactly what you were looking for right here?

"jeonghan, i-" you start, but realize you don't have the words to tell him what you want to say. you stop, staring at him with your brows furrowed cutely.

"what, baby?" he laughs, his thumb coming up to trace the creases in your forehead. "you're gonna give yourself premature wrinkles like this."

"why are you doing this?" you ask quietly. "why are you so...wonderful? all the time?"

"because," he shrugs, his hand falling from your forehead to rest just below your chin. "i've been trying to show you what it would be like. took you long enough to come around."

"show me what?" you ask confused.

"what it's like being loved by me," he smiles back. you feel your breath catch in your throat, and you want to say something. you want to tell him how you feel, how you're sorry it took you so long, how you love every moment you spend with jeonghan by your side. instead you just lean forward, lips brushing over his. you bring your hands up to his neck, wrapping them in the soft hair at the back of his head as you scoot impossibly closer and try to press all your love into this one kiss. jeonghan keeps his hold on your chin, thumb stroking softly at your cheek. he's the first one to pull back, laughing when you try to bring his lips back to yours so quickly. he leans his forehead against yours, soft hair tickling your skin as he asks, "so you get it now?"

"yeah," you nod, knocking your heads together and sending you both into a fit of giggles. jeonghan steals a few more kisses, and when you finally calm down he pulls you back into his side, squeezing you as close to him as possible. you lay your head down on his shoulder, pressing your lips into the closest part of him you can reach. "thank you, jeonghan. my jeonghan."

"my y/n," he sighs, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. "my beautiful, kind, funny girl."

"stop staring," you whisper bashfully. "you're missing the movie."

"i'm not missing anything," he repeats, but he takes one last look at you before he kisses the top of your head and finally turns back to the screen. this might be your first date with jeonghan, but it certainly won't be your last.

[ihopeiexplode]

📱 “Two Fools Inlove” [←Previous | Next→]

—

"you know you didn't have to bring anything right?"

"yeah I know, just felt like bringing something"

"what's in it?"

"food what else dumbass?"

"coming from you probably someones head"

"wow very funny."

As he gave you the bag you were greeted with some desserts, homemade ones to be exact

"I thought you were bad at cooking?"

"Ive gotten better"

"sure you have..."

—

—

"SUKUNA LOOK LOOK"

"What am I looking at?"

"isn't the statute pretty??"

"I guess? All I see is some naked woman"

"you clearly don't understand art..."

"how do I not understand art when I literally paint, do poetry and calligraphy"

"you expect me to believe that?"

"yes"

"wait your serious?"

"did you think im not?"

"I find that hard to believe..."

"what hobbies did you think I had??"

"dunno tormenting people maybe? You seem like the type"

—

—

"I don't know how to bowl"

"how? It's literally so easy just throw the ball and there"

With that he'd toss bowling the ball to you as if it was nothing??

The moment he tossed it you immediately moved to the side

"WHAT THE FUCK??"

"your being dramatic it isn't that heavy"

"YES IT IS?? I COULD'VE BROKEN A BONE"

"I'd break it myself if you keep acting like a drama queen"

You'd roll your eyes before picking up the ball from the ground and throwing it into the bowling lane, as you did,, however you didn't even manage to hit a single bowling pin..and when Sukuna saw it he immediately laughed at your failed attempt

He'd pick up another ball and hand it to you as he stood behind you

"you're doing it wrong, here"

With that he'd manhandle your body into a proper stance, once he was finished he backed up and told you to throw

And when you did you managed to hit all of the Bowling pins as you did so you immediately jumped and giggled

Sukuna was about to find it adorable but you just HAD to act cocky. When you did he immediately flicked your head

"you wouldn't have done it without me, don't act to confident"

"can't a girl dream?"

"yeah but you can't"

"wow okay.."

—

—

"Sukuna what are you doing here?"

"Yuji asked me to come along to watch him skygazing"

"I'm surprised you agreed"

"didn't had a Choice"

"how come?"

"our mom told me I can't leave him alone, which is ridiculous he's perfectly fine by himself"

"speaking of wheres Yuji?"

"he ran into Megumi so he's having some quality time with his 'bestfriend', anyway why are you here?"

"just felt like it"

"what's so good about skygazing your just looking at stars what's so good about it"

"do you always have to be bitter?"

"always"

—

Both you and Sukuna would be sitting on the blanket you laid out on the floor as you two sat close to one another while looking at the stars, till you spoke

"you know Sukuna, I've been thinking"

"didn't know you had a brain"

"nevermind."

"I'm kidding, continue"

"I guess you aren't really that bad, you fare un to hang out with, surprisingly...I thought I wouldn't have that much fun spending this much time with you but guess I was wrong"

"so what were friends now?"

"dunno, if you want I guess"

He wants to say something so badly. But he knows once he does his feelings would spill out. And he doesn't wanna do that right when you both are finally on good terms.

—

—

Sukuna and uraume would be talking to one another as they sat down on a nearby chair

"how's things with y/n?"

"I guess it's okay, I went skygazing with her yesterday and she sorta confessed how I'm not that bad,"

"looks like you have a chance"

"chance for?"

"a chance to get with her? What else? It's obvious you like her"

"don't be ridiculous. Why would I like her?

"why would I like someone like y/n, the only reason I'm doing this is for the project nothing else, it's not like I care, let alone have feelings towards her"

"if anything when she told me her little confession I was on the verge of laughing, she really is pathetic isn't she? As if I'd be her friend"

"After this is over I'll just stop talking to her, simple,"

He's wondering why he's saying all of this? He knows he likes you but he won't admit that. He won't admit he's been chasing after you for years. He won't admit how he liked you despite how you felt about him. Sukuna isn't some pathetic loser he won't beg. He won't act desperate

After Sukuna finished talking he'd noticed how quiet they became, before he could ask what was wrong he heard a sound behind him, and when he turned around he saw you...

You stood behind him as you just stared at him wide eyed with your fist clenched, you were a fool to think a person like Sukuna would change, why would he ever change? It's still the same Sukuna deep down no matter what he does.

"how much did you hear?"

"all of it."

—

[⛩️] @: Likes & Reblogs R appreciated! ^^

A/N: be honest does this sound like Sukuna atp...he's so out of character I'm about to jump off a cliff

Taglist: @catobsessedlady @hellomeow12 @0-candlecove-0 @shivzypuff @swirlingcurses @1-800-choke-that-ho @attackonnat @chilichopsticks @getoxmahito @memenojutsu @uhnanix @ichorstainedskin @needtoloveoutloud @love-me-satoru @s-j320 @allthestarsarecloserrrrrrr @goj0sunglasses @svtvrnal @haitanibros0007 @punkhazardlaw @mslydiaa @jayathelostdragon @caileysdead @rixyaaaa @minzxec @rzcnlb

[lucy90712]

Can you do a imagine where gavi is pretending to be mad at y/n and y/n doing several cute tactics to make him happy and he is just secretly enjoying it🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻🥺🥺🥺🥺

My last lecture today got cancelled so I was able to get home before Pablo gets home from training. Quite often he gets home before me and he usually leaves before me but we mostly get to spend the evening together even if I have assignments I will do them sat with Pablo. Our schedules can be intense but we have made things work so we always get to spend time together and when one of us is having a hard time the other does things to help out. We are a good team together which I think has helped us stay in a strong and happy relationship for the last two years. 

While I waited for Pablo to come home I had my laptop out and worked on an essay that I have for one of my classes. I didn't get to do that for long before the front door opened and Pablo walked in and threw his bag and shoes on the floor. Straight away I could tell he wasn't in a good mood something had annoyed him and he was trying to keep himself calm. He didn't notice that I was home at first but when he did I noticed the look in his eyes soften a bit as he never likes to take out his frustration on me which he's not perfect with but he tries and that's all I care about. Today I could tell he needed something to make him forget about today so I forgot about my essay and decided I'd make him his favourite snack to see if that would cheer him up a little bit. 

Pablo has always loved my homemade cookies so I made a batch as quickly as I could and put them in the oven as they only take 10 minutes to cook. While I waited Pablo went and showered and changed so by the time he was back downstairs the cookies were done so I put a few on a plate and gave them to him. He ate one of them and then halved the second to give some to me and I can't lie they were good but they didn't really seem to cheer Pablo up as much as I thought it would. Whatever happened while he was gone must've been worse than I thought as usually cookies does the trick but I'll have to get more creative today it seems. 

In the past when Pablo has had a bad day he likes to watch a sitcom so I thought I'd try putting Brooklyn nine nine on as we've watched that together before and he liked it. Today however it didn't seem to make any difference he just sat there staring at the screen not even smiling in the slightest. I would just ask him what's wrong but I've learnt the hard way that it's not always the best idea to do that as it can just make him more annoyed if he doesn't want to talk and it seems like he won't want to talk about whatever's bothering him today. As a sitcom wasn't working I thought maybe his favourite show might cheer him up but yet again it did nothing his eyebrows were still furrowed and he had a look of annoyance in his eyes. 

After that didn't work I tried every other trick I have up my sleeve from showing him tiktoks of cats I saved to cuddling with him as he loves to cuddle but none of my tricks seemed to work. That's when it hit me that he might be mad at me and that's why nothing I do works as he just doesn't want to be around me. I can't think of anything I would've done to make him mad but then again he can get mad over the most random things sometimes. Seeing as I couldn't make him feel better and may be making him feel worse I decided to just take myself upstairs and work on my essay to give him time to be on his own and hopefully be less mad. 

I tried working on my essay but I couldn't stop thinking about what I possibly could've done to make Pablo mad. We didn't fight before he left for training and we were texting before my lecture and during his break in training and he seemed fine then so I don't know what I've done wrong. Thinking about all of that just made me upset as I never like fighting with Pablo as he's not just my boyfriend he's my best friend too there is no one I'd rather spend my time with than him so when he doesn't want to be around me it hurts. Focusing on my essay went out the window quite quickly when tears started to fall from my eyes as I was so worried about whether Pablo will want to break up with me because I can't handle that right now. 

As my tears started to flow properly I had to stifle my sobs so Pablo didn't hear me as I don't need him knowing that I'm crying over seemingly nothing. That's when I heard footsteps coming up the stairs and I panicked thinking Pablo had heard me crying and was going to yell at me for being too emotional. As the footsteps got closer I desperately tried to wipe the tears from my face so if he comes in here I can try and pretend I haven't been crying. Just as I feared Pablo opened the bedroom door and of course he could tell I'd been crying as I know my eyes and face were still red and puffy. He didn't say anything just walked to the bed and sat next to me so he could pull me into his arms which I really didn't expect. I looked up at him to see if he still looked mad but he didn't his expression had softened and if anything he looked like he felt guilty. 

"I'm sorry I didn't mean to make you mad" I said 

"It's ok you didn't make me mad" he said 

"Then what made you so mad that nothing cheered you up?" I asked 

"Training was frustrating and the guys kept making fun of me so I was just in a bad mood then I came home and you made me cookies which did make me feel better but then I wanted to see what else you would do to make me feel better but I see now that doing that was a bad idea” he said 

"So you aren't mad at me?" I asked

"No not at all and I'm sorry that I did that I really didn't mean to make you cry in fact that's the last thing I wanted I can promise you I'll never even do that again I'll always communicate my feelings with you so this doesn't happen again" he apologised 

"You better not do this again" I laughed 

"I definitely won't and I'm going to make it up to you" he said

He started on making it up to me straight away by laying down and getting me to cuddle into his chest as he knows that's my favourite way to cuddle. That wasn't the only thing he did he also played with my hair as he knows that I like that and he gave me a lot of kisses which always make me happier. We spent most of the rest of the day cuddling the only time we stopped was when Pablo ordered food from my favourite restaurant for dinner even though I'd told him I'd forgiven him already he insisted that he still had more to do to make up for making me cry which he said he was going to do for the rest of the week which is fine by me if it means I get to spend quality time with him. 

[kitasgloves]

Imagine, SAKUSA KIYOOMI, your husband for over a year, sees you relaxing on the couch watching videos on tiktok. He lovingly spies on you until he notices the types of videos popping up on your fyp. It's all filled with laughing babies & children, every video makes you laugh and smile endearingly. But Sakusa's blood went cold.

Oh no

He thinks. This is bad. He might be overreacting but there's no way he's going to let you develop baby fever. Nope, hell no. He's not prepared to have children. So, he orchestrates a plan.

While you were showering, you accidentally left your phone unlocked so Sakusa has access to your tiktok. To his horror, all your liked videos are sickingly cute babies and toddlers. He has to change your fyp. So he searches up the most absurd videos available and taps on every single one of them, hoping it would cleanse your fyp and prevent the baby fever from developing.

You didn't even suspect a thing after you exited the bathroom, your husband is on the bed, eyes buried in a book, overlooking how it's upsidedown. The next time Sakusa spies on you, he's relieved that your fyp isn't filled with cooing babies and children. However, what replaced those videos are thirst traps of people working out in the gym. Sakusa's blood boiled hot, especially when you were secretly liking the videos and even saving them into your bookmarks. The way you bite your lip to fight off a smile made his eye twitch.

Sakusa is aware what jealousy feels like, he thinks it's ridiculous but look at him now succumbing to it. He tries to sneakily change the content on your fyp again but this time your phone is locked. So, he grows distant, unintentionally being less touchy than he usually is. And you notice.

"Omi baby are you mad at me?"

You pout, he doesn't answer as he faces away from you on the bed. You couldn't sleep at night without his arms holding you. As you try to scoot closer and gently grab him, he firmly peels your hands away. You frown, but decided to give him some space. When you stopped persisting, Sakusa grew worried.

He turns around and sees you facing away, cuddling a pillow instead. He suddenly feels terrible. Sakusa quietly goes over to you and kisses your temple before wrapping his arms around you like he always does. Surprisingly, you were awake as you ditched the pillow and hugged him back.

"Sorry for ignoring you darling, I was being childish"

"Aw, it's alright Kiyoomi"

"Can I ask you a question?"

"Sure!"

"Do you...do you want to start a family with me?"

You pull away to give him a bewildered look. You looked genuinely shocked.

"Huh? What?"

"Do...uh...do you want to have a baby with me?"

"Oh! Oh god no! I'm not ready for that responsibility yet, honey"

You smiled brightly and it makes Sakusa relieved. He decides to come clean to what he has done, all you did was laugh and wheeze at him and call him silly.

"You didn't like me getting baby fever?"

"[Name] I don't know how to take care a child"

"And you got jealous when I liked all those gym thirst traps?"

"I don't get the appeal of it. It's just people flexing their muscles while covered in sweat"

"Well, it's kinda hot for me"

Sakusa furrowed his eyebrows and pouts adorably at you.

"If that's what you're into, you could've told me. I wouldn't mind sending you a stupid video after a workout at the gym"

"OH MY GOD YES!"

You squealed. Sakusa scoffs but laughs at you. Since that day, he has made daily videos or "thirst traps" of him at the gym and send them to you. And you'd collect them like rocks and place them in a secret flashdrive for research purposes *wink* *wink*

Bonus: Sakusa asking Atsumu and Bokuto at the gym on how to make a thirst trap for you and he gets a full educational course about it. Day by day his videos get better and you just melt and gush at how fucking hot your husband is.