#--and start hitting me and screaming at me!!!''

[bonefall]

Is there beef with the Holstein cows and you or what was that joke lol

It's kind of wild It's just never come up on this blog before, but I HATE holsteins. Bottom 10 cow breeds for me. I hate how they're so common they account for the majority of milk produced. I hate that they're the "default" cow to the point where some don't even know cattle HAVE other colors. I hate their tiny horns (IF THEY EVEN HAVE THAT. LOSER ASS HORNLESS COW) and their painfully massive udders.

Legit I'm trying so hard to not launch into a No Mouth Must Scream style AM speech-- shoot my hand slipped.

(AM speech about why i dont like holsteins below the cut)

For starters, I have to give a brief lesson on what these terms mean; the "Holstein" is the American strain of the "Frisian" breed. Frisians are an ancient breed from Frisia, in the north of what we now consider the Netherlands. Crosses between the breeds are "Holstein-Frisians."

(There’s even more to this but im keeping it as simple as possible. Also one of my friends is Frisian and she is probably going to kill me for describing it like that.)

Historically, livestock was adapted to the environment they lived in. Frisians were bred by the Frisii people for hundreds of years in extremely grass-rich, lush, flat environments. The "polders" of the northern parts of the Netherlands. They're huge and eat a LOT of food.

Traditional Frisians were developed to produce as much meat and milk from a single individual as possible, without compromising the health of the cattle with constant inbreeding to get quick gains. We are talking about a breed that is over 2000 years old. They had the perfect environment to make The Ultimate Food Cow and by god they did it. I can respect that.

So, take that, drag it across an ocean to a place that does NOT have polders, and add the rapid enshittification of capitalism to it. BAM you've got a fucking holstein.

There is ONE goal for "improving" the holstein. Make More Milk. As long as the black and white milkbag leaks enough, nothing else matters. Health? Fertility? Feed ratio? Ability to not die of infection? WHO CARES. MILK LINE GO UP.

Over 90% of holsteins are inbred to start with, because Milk Line Go Up. To the tune of having an average COI of 8%-- where extreme negative effects (think Hapsburgs) start to crop up around 10%

Holstein bulls are aggressive bastards (many dairy bulls are), so no one wants to keep intact males in their herds, meaning most cows are artificially inseminated

Not being limited by the natural lifespan of a living bull means that the same stud can keep having direct offspring for decades after his death

Toystory the bull had 500,000 calves before he died, and hit over 1 million offspring in 2015. That's ONE animal and to put this in perspective, there are 9 million holsteins in the US.

DON'T WORRY IT GETS WORSE

Not only can 99% of holsteins be traced back to just two bulls-- 99% of male holsteins share one of two exact Y chromosomes with those two bulls.

The gene pool is so small that it's equivalent to about 60 individuals. Warrior Cat allegiances are larger than that. That's barely bigger than modern ThunderClan.

"Massive lack of genetic diversity" does not begin to capture the existential dread of this situation. Mark my words, WATCH, when the Bird Flu finally mutates a strain that rips through a mammalian population, it's gonna be in the USA and it's going to be through our dairy cattle.

This is not prophecy or me laying a curse on the land, this is the natural consequence of basing the stability of US milk production on the equivalent of 9 million clones of two classrooms worth of individuals, and then packing them in close quarters

And we don't have to wait for doomsday for the impacts to be apparent on the cattle themelves

Holstein fertility has also dropped by half since the 1960s when the intensive inbreeding really kicked into high gear

Because their whole body is dedicating all of their resources to milk production, they have a notoriously "bony" frame.

Show judges, however, like this because they think that's a very "feminine" look for a 1600 pound ruminant. Very normal thing to think.

Like. I don't know if i can communicate this to people who don't look at cows a lot (it's not quite as obviously dramatic as a pug skull) but here is a comparison of an "ideal" show holstein and an "unselected" holstein from a herd that's been established as a sort of "control group" for what they looked like back in the 1960s;

The way that the artery on the "modern" cow's belly runs to the udder like a big pink worm freaks me out the most ngl

The udder also bulges out from between the back legs

The show cow is so thin

And then compare these both to a Holstein-Frisian cross who leans more on the Frisian side;

Proper weight, developed legs. Its biggest "problem" is actually just the udder shape-- deep udders, which "hang" low like that, aren't optimal for milk-focused breeds because the higher away from the ground the less chance there is of infection. In that department, the "unselected" holstein clearly outclasses the holstein-frisian.

But it probably won't be surprising to hear that the "show holstein," with its massive, swollen udder, is SUPER prone to infections such as mastitis.

But it is also just more prone to getting sick generally

And, to keep up with these insane demands, holsteins need a TON of food. You aren't going to just turn these things out into a pasture and be done with it. Even its ancestor the Frisian needed premium Dutch polder grass to be such a good cow-- crank that up to 11 with these Monuments to Humanity's Hubrice

The Texas Longhorn developed in semi-feral conditions and can eat a bush to become the best thing in a 10 mile radius. The Scottish Highland was iron-forged in upland moors with a steady diet of turf and rain.

Meanwhile if a Holstein has less than 5 homemade meals a day without poland spring bottled water it will die to death.

And the WORST part? You have to use these if you want to make money in dairy farming. It's WAAY too expensive to just run a suboptimal farm. Their milk isn't great, but they sure do make a lot of it.

...so Holsteins and Holstein-Frisians (and other "super efficient" breeds) have absolutely decimated heritage cattle. The American Milking Devon is a deep reddish brown with gorgeous horns and low maintenance; rare. Randall Linebacks are painted with lines of white speckles down the back and can be used for any purpose; critically endangered. The Niata was a pug-faced cow who could fight jaguars; extinct.

And THAT'S what makes me hate them most of all. I LOVE cows, but whenever I see a reference to one, it's a holstein. It's always boring black and white splotches with big pink udders. They're practically synonymous with "cow" when their homogeniety is actually hiding much cooler breeds from you.

Did you know cows can be tiger-striped?

And that England has its own type of longhorn?

Or that cow horns can twist upwards like an antelope?

And that they can have REALLY LONG ears?

And that they can be blue?

And that's not even getting into some of the cows that have gotten a small crumb of attention lately, such as Highlands, Ankole-Watusi, and Texas Longhorns. There's so many cool cows out there! And they're all really different from holsteins! MOST of them are also a lot healthier and produce tastier milk and meat!

TL;DR yeah i don't like holsteins and I like sniping at them. For reasons both legit and petty.

[bytemee]

WE CAN'T BE FRIENDS (WAIT FOR YOUR LOVE) — YU JIMIN.

"just wanna let this story die, and i'll be alright."

synopsis. what was once love now feels like a wreck, and nothing will ever be the same between them.

pairing. mean!sorority!karina x loser!gp!reader

warning(s). angst, cheating (not really bc they're not dating), mentions of drinking, karina is mean :(, just sad no happy ending

words. 1.3k

authors note. hi guys happy valentines day masterlist soon ok

part one. part two. part three. headcannons. request. navigation. main masterlist.

family emergencies don't wait for anyone.

you barely have time to throw things into a suitcase before you're running out the door, heart pounding with worry and adrenaline. the flight feels like it drags on forever, leaving you with too much time to imagine the worst possible outcomes.

every missed call and text from karina stings, but you can't bring yourself to respond. you're already juggling too much.

karina doesn't hear from you for three days.

she finds out you're gone when she shows up at your dorm unannounced, expecting you to be there like always—because you're always there. like the obedient little puppy she trained you to be. but the room is empty, the bed half-made, and your phone is going straight to voicemail every time she calls.

at first, she thinks you're just ignoring her. a part of her almost admires the audacity. but then she checks your drawers and sees the clothes missing, the toothbrush gone, the little signs that you didn't just leave for the night—you left. and you didn't tell her.

it hits her like a punch to the gut, knocking the breath right out of her.

then rage coils in her stomach like a snake, tightening with every unanswered text.

where the fuck are you?

don't make me find you.

you think you can just disappear on me?

by the time the third day rolls around, she's furious. humiliated.

people keep asking where you are, and she doesn't have an answer. you made her look stupid. weak. you left without a word and expected her to just sit and wait? to not do anything?

like hell. fuck you.

so she goes out. parties harder than she has in months. lets her sorority sisters pour her drink after drink until the room spins and everything feels numb, because you made her feel something, and she doesn't want to anymore. she doesn't want to feel anything ever again.

then there's a girl.

not you, but someone close enough in the dark. someone who doesn't hesitate to put her hands where they don't belong, someone who doesn't make her wait, doesn't make her question if she's wanted. karina lets it happen. lets the girl kiss her, lets hands wander, lets herself pretend—just for a second—that you don't exist. that this is all there is. that she's still in control.

when you come back two weeks later, she's ice-cold.

at first, you think she's mad that you left without telling her properly, that she's just giving you a hard time. but when she won't even look at you, when she brushes past you in the hallway like you're nothing, the dread settles in your stomach like a stone.

then the videos start spreading around campus. one of her with a girl. her hands on the other girl's skin. her tongue in the other girl's mouth. the two of them drunk, laughing, kissing.

you can't stop watching them.

the videos aren't anything explicit, but they're damning.

you can't believe she would do this to you, after everything you've done for her, everything you've given her.

it hurts.

you want to scream at her. you want to ask her why—why she did it, why she pushed you away, why she made you feel like you were nothing. you want to know if she felt anything, if she even cared about you at all. but you don't. instead, you let the anger simmer beneath your skin, burning through your veins like wildfire.

you're done. you're so fucking done.

the next time you're face to face is completely coincidental. she's on her way back to her room from a party, drunk off her ass and barely able to walk in a straight line. you went to her sorority house to get some things of yours from her room, as winter promised you karina wouldn't be there.

but of course, she is.

karina doesn't notice you at first, too busy trying to steady herself against the wall. her makeup is smudged, her hair a mess, and her steps uncoordinated as she tries to focus on getting back to her room. but then she stumbles, catching her balance just in time to look up—and when her eyes meet yours, everything in the air freezes.

for a moment, neither of you move. you can smell the alcohol on her breath and see the haze of drunkenness in her eyes. she looks like shit. then, as if snapping out of a trance, you take a step forward—only for her to flinch back, her body pressing against the wall.

her reaction stops you dead in your tracks.

"stay away from me."

you stop in your tracks, throat tightening. "i just want my stuff. that's it. then i'm gone."

her eyes are glassy. she looks like she might cry. "i don't have them."

your hands clenched into fists. "yes, you do. my jacket and a book. you have them."

she shakes her head. "i threw them out."

"why would you do that?"

she exhales shakily, eyes darting away. "because you left." her voice is barely a whisper, her words slurred and uneven. "because you didn't even tell me. you just disappeared."

you scoff, shaking your head. "are you serious? i had an emergency, karina. my family needed me."

her jaw tightens, something unreadable flashing through her expression. "and i didn't?"

you blink. "that's not fair."

karina lets out a hollow laugh, bitter and sharp. "neither is finding out you were gone by walking into your empty fucking room."

you don't know what to say to that. because she's right. you should've told her. you should've sent something, anything. but you didn't, and now you're stuck, the two of you, standing in the middle of the hallway with no idea where to go from here. but that doesn't change what she did.

your voice is quieter when you finally speak. "you didn't have to—" you gesture vaguely, unable to say it. "—do what you did."

her gaze drops, shoulders tensing. her voice is low. "i don't know what you're talking about."

you let out a frustrated sigh, stepping closer. "you know exactly what i'm talking about. those fucking videos. everyone saw them."

she doesn't move, her breath hitching in her throat. "i didn't do anything."

your hands curl into fists, anger rising in your chest. "don't lie to me, karina. i know it was you. why would you do that? were you that desperate to...i don't know? try and get back at me?"

karina's eyes are glassy, but whatever vulnerability was there a moment ago hardens into steel. she straightens up against the wall, brushing at her smudged makeup. when she finally speaks, her voice is cold.

"you really think you were more than just my little pup?"

the words hit like a punch to the gut, taking your breath away. karina stares you down, chin tilted up defiantly, daring you to argue, to fight back. but you can't. because no matter how angry, how betrayed, how humiliated you are, you still care about her.

"you were convenient, that's all. always there when i needed you. following me around like a pathetic stray, waiting for scraps of affection. and you lapped it up, didn't you?"

"karina, stop," you whisper.

she doesn't stop. she steps closer, her words venomous. "i needed someone to depend on, and you were just there. do you think i would've chosen you otherwise?"

your throat tightens. every syllable feels like another dagger to the chest.

"when you left, i realized how easy it was to replace you. how easy it would be for me to find someone else. and i did." she smiles, sharp and cruel. "do you want to know her name? or do you prefer not knowing?"

tears well up in your eyes despite everything, hot and burning. you blink rapidly, but you can't stop them from falling. 

"i gave you everything," you say, your voice barely holding steady. "i was there for you every second you needed me."

"and that's all you were good for," she snaps. "you should've known your place. a good little pup doesn't run off without permission." 

then, she pushes past you, her shoulder bumping yours as she stumbles toward her room. "go home, y/n," she mutters, voice breaking just slightly. "there's nothing left for you here."

and just like that, she's gone.

you're left standing alone in the hallway, heart aching, tears streaming down your cheeks.

taglist - @brocoliisscared @spidrgamer @kimminjiissosjdirbidnsjje

[inseobts]

Jealousy in the Switch

trafalgar law x fem!reader

you and sanji keep bickering so law swap your bodies but this just makes everything worse, especially for his feelings

tags: jealousy, body swap with sanji, annoying sanji

word count: 2.9k

masterlist || ko-fi

It all starts because you and Sanji won’t shut up.

Dressrosa is a warzone—Doflamingo is still alive, everything is on fire, and Law is this close to snapping.

And yet, instead of staying focused, you and Sanji are locked in a full-blown shouting match.

"Sanji, I’m not a damsel in distress!" you yell, hands on your hips.

"You're not running off into danger alone!" Sanji retorts, jabbing a finger at you.

"They need backup!"

"They need you to not get killed!"

Law’s headache triples.

"Both of you—shut up."

You don’t.

Sanji steps closer "You're being reckless—"

"I'm being helpful!"

"Room."

Your stomach drops.

"Shambles."

The world twists. Your vision blurs, your whole body feels wrong.

And then—

"WHAT THE HELL?!"

That’s your voice... but you didn’t say it.

You turn toward the sound, only to see… yourself.

Sanji—inside your body—is clutching his new arms, eyes wide.

Which means...

You whip your head down.

Black suit. Long legs. A cigarette in your mouth.

Oh... Oh no.

Law doesn’t even look up "Problem solved."

Sanji-you hyperventilates "Nononononono—WHAT DO YOU MEAN PROBLEM SOLVED?!"

"You were annoying me."

Sanji-you gasps and looks down at his *new* chest. His—your—eyes go huge.

And then — BOOM!

His nose explodes with blood.

Law stares.

You, inside Sanji’s body, shriek "WHY ARE YOU BLEEDING?!"

Sanji-you collapses on the ground, twitching "I—I—this body—it’s—" His eyes sparkle. He grabs your face with both hands, trembling.

"I’m… I’m beautiful."

Law watches in horror as Sanji—you melts into the pavement, swooning over himself.

"My skin is so soft…" He rubs your hands up and down your own arms, practically whimpering.

"STOP TOUCHING ME." You grab him by the collar—Sanji in your body—and shake him "GET A GRIP, COOK!"

Sanji-you beams "Oh, my dear, delicate hands! What a treasure you are—"

"I SWEAR TO GOD."

Law hates this.

Sanji-you sits up, dazed "My legs… so smooth. My waist—so elegant—" He grasps your sides, twirling like he’s been blessed by the heavens.

Law’s jaw clenches.

Sanji, in your body, is fawning over himself and Law wants to strangle him.

At first, it’s even a bit bearable.

Sanji spends most of his time adjusting your clothes, fixing your hair, checking his reflection. Every time he accidentally touches his own chest, not used to it he screams, nosebleeds, and collapses again.

Meanwhile, you—in Sanji’s body—are having the time of your life.

"Damn, I feel so strong..." you say, rolling out your new shoulders, punching the air and then eyeing a wall to punch.

Sanji-you gasps in horror "DON’T BREAK MY BODY! MY HANDS ARE TOO IMPORTANT! OKAY? USE THE LEGS IF YOU REALLY HAVE TO!!"

You grin, throwing a casual punch at a wall—it cracks.

Sanji-you shrieks "STOP THAT! YOU’LL RUIN ME!"

Law almost smirks. But then.

Then it gets worse.

Sanji—you starts flirting with literally anyone.

At first, it’s harmless prank he's doing at you. He compliments himself in reflective surfaces and swoons at his own voice.

But then—he starts hitting on people as you and Law watches his own personal hell unfold.

The breaking point comes when Sanji—you sidles up to Zoro, he knows your close to him, that he's your closest friend in the crew. Sanji can't miss on this opportunity.

Law watches as your body—possessed by Sanji—leans against Zoro’s shoulder.

Zoro barely glances at him "What do you want?"

Sanji-you twirls a lock of your hair "Oh, nothing~"

Law’s eye twitches.

Zoro frowns, clueless about the body swap "The hell’s wrong with you today?"

Sanji-you giggles. Actually giggles.

"Zoro~" Sanji—you practically purrs, pressing closer while eyeing you with a diabolic smirk "Have I ever told you how… handsome you are?"

Zoro freezes.

Law chokes.

You, in Sanji’s body, start wheezing.

Sanji-you bats his lashes "So rugged. So strong. Those arms…~"

Zoro looks deeply disturbed "Are you having a stroke?"

"Only a stroke of love."

Sanji—you trails a hand down Zoro’s arm, sighing dreamily.

Law feels something deep, primal, and violent ignite inside him.

Zoro yanks his arm away "You’re being too weird todey, stop it."

Sanji—you gasps, hand on his heart "Oh, Zoro, how cruel—!"

Law is going to kill him.

You, inside Sanji’s body, are losing it "PFFFT—Sanji, STOP—"

Zoro turns to you-Sanji with a confused frown "who?"

Sanji-you ignores you, still clutching his chest "Rejection… while I was in her body! My beauty is wasted on you!"

Law snaps.

"Room."

Sanji-you blinks "Wait, hold on—"

"Shambles."

Your stomach lurches and just like that, everything shifts back.

You stumble, in your real body again.

Sanji grabs looks at his hands, sobbing in relief "Oh, my beautiful hands, I missed you—!"

You stretch your arms "THANK GOD."

Zoro glares "I don't know what that was, but if you ever do it again, I’m killing you."

Sanji sniffles, clutching his own shoulders "That was the worst rejection of my life."

Law doesn’t say anything, because now, he has a problem.

A real problem.

The fact that switching you back means he just admitted he couldn’t handle it.

That watching Sanji in your body —flirt as you—made him want to rip someone’s throat out.

That he was jealous.

And now?

You and Sanji know.

The aftermath of the switch doesn’t settle as smoothly as Law might’ve hoped.

It’s awkward, and frustrating, and now, Law’s beginning to realize—he’s in way deeper than he ever thought.

You, back in your body, try to ignore the little fluttering discomfort in your chest. Maybe it’s just because you saw Sanji like that in your body. It was... weird. Unsettling.

Law stands a few feet away, arms crossed, his jaw still tense. He says nothing as the group begins to move on. You can feel his eyes occasionally drifting toward you. And maybe it’s your imagination, but his glare seems to sharpen whenever Sanji gets too close to you.

You glance at him.

The guy is still sulking.

"Quit glaring like that" you say, crossing your arms "You did it. I didn’t ask for this."

"Just focus on the mission." His voice is clipped, clearly irritable "And don't fl—"

Don’t flirt?

You cock an eyebrow at him "Don’t flirt with who? Sanji? Zoro?"

Law’s eyes flicker, but he doesn’t respond. He just keeps walking, gripping his sword hilt tightly.

But you catch the slight tension in his shoulders. You wonder if he’s feeling something.

Sanji, as usual, seems completely oblivious to how much Law is suffering. He’s back to his flirtatious self but now, it’s getting more out of hand.

"Y/N~" Sanji calls your name, almost sweetly, with that infuriating grin plastered on his face. He sidles up beside you, running a hand through your hair "I miss you, you know?"

You can see Law’s eye twitch, though he’s trying to hide it.

Sanji’s flirtation continues unabated. You’re almost certain it’s his way of messing with Law now—perhaps even pushing his buttons on purpose. He gives you a sideways look and adds "I think we should grab a drink tonight. You, me, and my own handsome body~"

You groan, pinching the bridge of your nose "Why do you have to be like this now?!"

Sanji leans in, a few inches from you face "Well, darling, I saw how you kept looking at my body when you where in it, no?"

Your eye catches Law’s from the corner of your vision.

His expression is frozen—but the tightness in his jaw is unmistakable. His eyes flicker, but they never leave you. He watches intently, his gaze turning more stormy the more Sanji leans into you.

"You're just as bad as he is," you snap, shaking off Sanji’s arm "Seriously, cut it out."

Sanji smirks "Oh beliece me, I know what I'm doing, you should just play along and see" his eyes shift toward Law, noticing the tense energy in the air "Oh? What’s wrong, Trafalgar Law? You look like you're about to bite someone's head off."

"Focus." Law’s voice is icy, his words clipped. He doesn't even look at Sanji "We’re almost at the rendezvous point."

But it’s too late.

Sanji suddenly gets a brilliant idea. He winks and steps in front of you "You know, I think Captain Law might have a thing for you. Did you see the way he looked at you earlier? And the way he swapped us back to our bodies right when I...You were flirting with Mosshead?"

You feel your face flush, but you quickly mask it with a sassy smirk "Sanji, are you trying to start something, again?"

Sanji chuckles "Maybe. I think Captain Law's just a little too shy to admit his feelings. What do you think, Y/N?"

You are just about done with the teasing. Law, however, looks like he’s about to murder someone.

"I’m not shy" Law says, cutting into the conversation with a sharp tone. His eyes narrow, and the tension in his expression is enough to send a chill down your spine. You dare glance up at him.

His eyes lock onto yours for a moment, and then—he grinds his teeth. He quickly averts his gaze, clearly embarrassed by the situation but not wanting to admit it.

Sanji, however, is enjoying every second of this.

"See? I told you!" he says, practically singing in triumph "He’s just too cool to say it, but we all know it. Come on, Surgeon, why don’t you just admit it already? You’re jealous."

Jealous?

You can see Law’s irritation growing, his hand gripping the hilt of his sword with such force you think it might snap "Don’t talk about things you don’t understand."

"Oh, I think I understand perfectly" Sanji teases. He steps closer to you again, placing a hand on your shoulder and sending a look over his shoulder at Law "Maybe I can just take her out for a proper dinner then."

And that’s when you feel it—the crushing weight of Law’s jealousy.

He glares at Sanji’s hand on your shoulder like he wants to tear it off, and you notice his eyes seem to follow every single move Sanji makes around you. Every touch, every smile.

It makes you… uncomfortable?

Or maybe it’s just the fact that Law doesn’t hide his feelings well—at least, not this time.

"You’re annoying, Sanji," you mutter.

"I know," he replies smugly "But you like it." He leans in and whispers "Admit it. You like the attention."

You can’t help the laugh that escapes you "You really don’t quit, huh?"

You feel a presence behind you, and before you can turn around, Law steps in, looking like he’s ready to throw Sanji into the nearest wall.

But then, to your surprise, he doesn’t.

He just stares at Sanji with an intensity that makes you swallow nervously "I’m not jealous, Sanji. Just stay away from her."

Sanji smirks, crossing his arms, fully aware of what’s going on "Aww, I see, Surgeon. So you do care. How sweet."

You blink, still trying to wrap your mind around what just happened. Did Law just admit something without saying it out loud?

Law says nothing more, but his gaze locks onto yours again, sharper than ever. He clenches his fists, clearly at his breaking point.

"Focus on the mission" he orders again, and this time, his voice holds a faint edge of something almost like embarrassment mixed with irritation.

And as much as you want to ignore it, you can’t help but feel something shift. Maybe it’s because you did notice the tension between you and Law—something you didn’t want to admit. Or maybe it’s just the constant teasing from Sanji that’s making you realize that Law’s feelings are right there, in plain sight.

But neither of you say anything.

You both just walk on, with the strange weight of unsaid words hanging between you.

Sanji, on the other hand, sings quietly under his breath, clearly having the time of his life.

You can feel his frustration rolling off of him in waves, his movements stiff, his usual scowl even darker than normal. Meanwhile, Sanji is practically glowing with satisfaction, walking beside you with an insufferable grin.

Zoro, who has been watching in mild confusion, finally speaks up.

"The hell is wrong with you three?"

Sanji throws an arm over your shoulder, smirking "Nothing, nothing. Just enjoying the fresh air, right, Y/N-chwan?"

Law glares daggers at the cook’s hand.

You sigh, shrugging Sanji off before Law actually explodes "Let’s just get back already. I feel like I’ve lost a whole year of my life today."

Sanji grins but relents, walking ahead. Zoro eyes the two of you for another second before shrugging and following behind, but Law stays beside you.

You don’t say anything at first. Neither does he. But the tension between you is impossible to ignore.

Finally, you risk a glance at him "You okay?"

Law’s jaw tightens "I’m fine."

You hum, unconvinced "You sure? Because you look like you’re five seconds away from committing a murder."

Law exhales slowly, pinching the bridge of his nose "I should have left you both like that."

You snort "Oh, please. You hated every second of it."

Law stiffens slightly but doesn’t respond.

A teasing thought crosses your mind before you can stop it.

"Wait…" You smirk, nudging him with your elbow "You weren’t jealous of Sanji in my body, were you?"

Law stops walking.

Your smirk falters slightly as he turns his head toward you, golden eyes locking onto yours with an unreadable intensity.

For a second, neither of you speak. The air between you suddenly feels heavier.

Then, finally, Law scoffs "You’re insufferable," he mutters, shaking his head as he continues walking.

But you don’t miss the way his ears turn just a little bit pink.

And for some reason that makes your heart beat just a little faster.

Sanji, who supassed you long enough, is waiting at the camp when you and Law arrive, arms crossed, smirk still in place.

"Oh? Took you two long enough" His grin widens as he scans the both of you "Did I miss anything interesting?"

Law ignores him completely, moving to the other side of the camp like he wants to be as far away from this conversation as possible.

You roll your eyes "Nothing you'd enjoy."

Sanji chuckles "Oh, I doubt that." Then, with a mischievous glint in his eye, he leans in slightly "But listen, Y/N… If Law keeps dragging his feet, you know I’m always here, right?"

You blink "Huh?"

Sanji winks.

Law, from across the camp, slams something down a little harder than necessary.

Sanji grins wider "Oh yeah. He’s done for."

And honestly? You’re starting to think he’s right.

The camp settles down for the night, but Law is still clearly brooding.

You pretend not to notice at first. It’s actually kind of funny, watching him sulk on the far end of the camp while Sanji keeps throwing you knowing looks.

Zoro, thankfully, stays out of it. He’s already asleep, arms crossed, snoring lightly by a tree.

Sanji, however, is not done.

"So, Y/N," he starts casually, way too loud on purpose "What kind of man do you like?"

Law, who had been sitting with his back turned, freezes.

You glare at Sanji "Really? All this time you were never interested in such things"

Sanji just grins "What? It’s an innocent question!" He leans in "Tall? Strong? A little broody, maybe? Medical expertise a plus?"

You kick him in the shin.

"Ow—!" Sanji staggers back, but he’s laughing.

Law stands up abruptly.

"We leave at sunrise" he announces, voice clipped. Then he turns sharply on his heel and walks off toward his tent.

Sanji whistles lowly "Oof. I think I struck a nerve."

You sigh, running a hand through your hair "I swear, Sanji, you are the worst."

But part of you wonders if Law’s reaction means exactly what Sanji thinks it does.

Later that night, when the fire has burned low and most of the camp is asleep, you hear footsteps behind you.

You glance up—and freeze.

Law is standing there, arms crossed, gaze unreadable.

You sit up slightly "Couldn’t sleep?"

He doesn’t answer right away. Then, after a long pause, he sighs.

"You and Sanji..." he mutters "You enjoy making my life hell, don’t you?"

You smirk "It’s a bonus, yeah."

Law huffs, shaking his head. Then, after another pause, he says—so quietly you almost miss it—

"I didn’t like it."

Your breath catches slightly "...What?"

He looks away "The switch. I didn’t like it."

You blink. That’s… honestly a more direct confession than you expected "Well, yeah, I figured, but you did it yourself so—"

"Not because of the chaos," he cuts in, finally meeting your eyes "Because of him. Because of the way he—" Law exhales sharply, running a hand through his hair "I didn’t like seeing you and him. Like that."

Oh.

Oh.

Your heart skips a beat.

Law seems to realize what he’s admitting, because he quickly looks away again, shifting awkwardly "Forget it," he mutters "It’s late."

He turns to leave—but before he can take a step, you grab his wrist.

"Wait."

Law stiffens. Slowly, hesitantly, he turns back toward you.

You swallow, pulse racing, but you manage a small smile.

"You could’ve just said you were jealous, you know."

His face flames.

"I—I wasn’t—"

You tilt your head "No?"

Law glares at you, but it’s not as sharp as usual. If anything, he almost looks—flustered.

You squeeze his wrist gently before letting go "Next time, just say something," you murmur "Might save you a headache."

Law doesn’t move.

For a long moment, he just stares at you, something unreadable flickering in his golden eyes. Then, finally, he mutters under his breath—

"Idiot."

But the way his fingers linger near yours before he pulls away tells you everything you need to know.

And as he disappears into his tent, you realize—

Sanji was absolutely right.

[harmonysanreads]

I NEED MORE PUPPY PHAINON, imagine that his beloved was offended by him, and he literally walks on his knees after her, asking for forgiveness, lol

Can be read as a continuation to this piece.

Phainon has become more partial to hating silence in his recent years.

It wasn't always this way though and in certain conditions, he finds himself craving a particular flavor of silence. But in the other, majority of cases, that deafening vacancy of noise reminds him of memories he’d rather forget. To placate that discomfort, he embellishes the void with sound no matter how small, or with his own voice.

Still, the ache is manageable, not voracious enough to make him dramatically restless. Where this faint modicum of control fails as well is when you, in all your cruelty, cast that curse of silence upon him as a direct consequence of anger.

In the name of the Titans, he prays you’d scream at him, hit him couple of times, destroy his house and belongings — anything, anything besides this nonverbal torture he can withstand. But he's not one to dwell in unfair complaints. Especially when your downturn gaze, pressed lips and crossed arms affirm so loudly that he's messed up.

By now, he’s exhausted almost every tactic in his arsenal to get you to acknowledge him again — apologizing, pinching his ears, making funny faces, wrestling a titankin and two whole repeats of that cycle. But you didn't let this opportunity go to waste in showcasing how good you’ve gotten in keeping a blank face in truly tumultuous situations, much to his chagrin in this instance.

It's only when you, most likely fed up with his antics, started to walk away that he scrambled to try again.

“My sun, my moon, my star, my light — please, please please please, look at me? Just once?” you're halted by a tug at your sleeve. A twinge of something softens your resolve as you realize how Phainon remembered, wrestling with his desires to not touch you until he's earned it again.

You can feel the weight of his eyes on your back, you pray that he didn't notice you waver. You steel yourself and stubbornly keep the act steadfast, conflicted before dropping the charade in favor of melting into his arms and forgetting altogether. But you can't, you’ve already promised to wring the confession on the errors of his ways this time.

You glare at the splinters in the earth, “Haven’t I told you once? If you keep calling me things that will never be yours, I might just become the same.” it takes everything to keep your voice even.

You don't need to look to picture Phainon's sure dumbfounded blinks, the churning and turning of metaphorical cogs as they turn in his head, neurons firing and synapses piecing together the implication of your cold comment.

You make the mistake of expecting only a gust of wind and are hit instead with a fully powered storm, in the form of a dull thud that you recognize as the hero’s knees hitting the ground when you're forced to spin as his arms find refuge in clinging to your thighs.

“I’m sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry — I am so SO sorry. I promise I won't do it again, I swear on the Flame-Chase — no, I swear on Aedes Elysiae that I will never do it again! If I do, may I face a fate worse than death itself. Just… just please, forgive me.”

There's an ache in your heart, sudden, quick and flighty. Kephale's light cradles you both, the corners of Phainon's eyes shine with something. By instinct, you try to escape the painful grasp of the hero, try to. Stumbling a few steps in what you intended would create space, resulting in Phainon getting dragged alongside your movements — sans a care in the Deliverer’s countenance.

“Phainon, I'm going to fall if you don't —” you try to bargain and fall, you do.

One ghost of a touch against the pavement is all you recall, so faint it can be disregarded completely. Your gasp gets muffled in something soft and firm, a mix of the perfume you recognize as yours and something else too convoluted to remember in the heat of the moment canopies your senses.

When the brief storm settles, a sigh slips past your lips. You don't even need to look up to know where you ended up landing.

But an insistent grasp angles your gaze against your wishes upward, you don't offer further resistance as pity grips your heart, “My dearest, beloved, my love, honeycakes with whipped cream on top, my life… won't you show me mercy?”

You calmly maintain Phainon's gaze, searching his face for any trace of dishonesty. The glossy blues of atonement prompts you to be petty one last time, “You don't care much about your life though.”

At this, Phainon completely deflates, collapsing in your arms. “Oh come on! Will you just say yes?”

At the faintest chime of the giggle you fail to quieten, he burrows further in the crook of your neck, arms coiling with a force you're no stranger to by now. Phainon shifts to adjust your position on his lap and changes tactics at the last moment, seizing your momentary lack of guard to launch an aimless attack of kisses.

You can only thank the barren side of Okhema city you two had chosen now, you do not want to think of what you’d have to do to get him off of you had this been a crowded place. The agony that came with the thirty something minutes of deprivation Phainon tolerated are much prominent, a burn lingers around your cheeks and neck. He refrains from completely leaning towards your lips though, still mindful that you haven't yet affirmed in words.

“Okay okay! You're forgiven, good heavens.” you heave, Phainon's exclamation of joy gets lodged in his throat prematurely, “But, you'll be sleeping on the couch today.”

You regret uttering that almost instantly, it's as if every particle of the hero’s life force has been drained mercilessly, appearing as though he might really cry this time.

You avert your eyes, forcing a sigh, “Ah, well, nevermind. You can sleep next to me — but I'll still be keeping a pillow barrier in the middle! Don't forget I'm still… still mad at you.”

As if on cue, Phainon springs back to life once more. Perhaps it's just your enervated eyes, but apparitions of what you can only assume to be puppy ears flick to and fro on top of his head. Caught in a trance, you reach out to ruffle those snow-white tresses and your lover melts.

You know your imposed punishment won’t last for more than ten minutes into the slumber and you’ll be coaxed with these antics again and again. But for this moment, you suppose it won't hurt to allow yourself to indulge and believe, that everything is okay.

[logansbelt]

౨ৎ ‎ ♡₊˚・₊✧ just want Logan to take care of me after fucking me senseless ,, I have returned !! with something?

this is awful … feed into my delusions 🤍 ౨ৎ ‎ ♡₊˚・₊✧

Pairing: Logan x Fem! Reader

Suggestive/Sensual Content , Praise , Aftercare, Illusion to sex

…

You still smelled of him—cigars, sex , and the musky aftermath of a night that had left you trembling and breathless. Your body was spent, muscles aching, skin marked with the bruises and bites he left as if to stake a claim, even if your relationship was nothing more than casual.

Logan lay beside you, one arm draped lazily over his head, his chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm. His broad shoulders were dusted with scars, some older than you could imagine, and the sight of them made your stomach flip in ways you didn’t want to dwell on. He held a cigar, which he nursed lazily between his fingers as he sat against the headboard. The sheets were a mess, tangled around your legs, his scent clinging to every inch of your skin

You shifted slowly, every movement reminding you of just how rough he’d been. His growls still echoed in your ears, paired with the memory of how he’d held your wrists above your head, whispering filthy things against your neck while your body surrendered. Faint pink lines marred his shoulders and back where your nails had raked down his skin the night before. They were already starting to fade—his healing factor taking care of them—but he’d grunted in satisfaction when he’d first seen them. A reminder that no matter how rough he got, you always gave it right back.

“You’re quiet,” he said, his voice low and raspy as smoke curled from his lips. He glanced at you out of the corner of his eye, his amber gaze sharp but soft in a way that was reserved just for you.

You stretched languidly, the ache in your body a delicious reminder of the way he’d taken you apart. Your skin was littered with bruises from his hands, his teeth, his mouth. The faint burn between your thighs made you shift uncomfortably, but you didn’t regret a second of it. You’d asked for this—wanted it—and Logan had given it to you like only he could.

“Just thinkin’,” you murmured, your voice still husky from all the moaning and screaming you’d done hours earlier

Logan smirked, the corner of his mouth twitching as he took another drag of his cigar. “’Bout what? Honey”

“How you’re probably too old to keep up with me,” you teased, glancing at him with a sly grin.

He let out a low, rumbling chuckle, the sound vibrating deep in his chest. “Is that right? ‘Cause from where I’m sittin’, you’re the one who couldn’t keep up.”

You rolled your eyes, but the heat in your cheeks betrayed you. “My legs are sore because you’re a damn animal,” you shot back, though there was no real bite to your words.

Logan snorted, reaching over to stub out his cigar in the ashtray on the nightstand. “You weren’t complainin’ when I had you screamin’ my name, darlin’.”

Your cheeks burned hotter, and you threw a pillow at him, which he caught easily, his reflexes still sharp despite his graying hair and the fine lines that crinkled around his eyes.

"Careful," he warned, his tone low and dangerous, though the smirk on his lips softened it. "Doll keep pushin’, and I’ll remind you just how much I got left in me."

You shivered at the promise in his voice, but before you could retort, the ache in your body had you wincing as you shifted to sit up. Logan’s smirk faded, replaced by a flicker of concern. “Easy,” he murmured, reaching out to steady you. His hands were warm and rough, the kind of hands that had seen too much violence, but the way he touched you now was nothing short of tender.

“I’m fine,” you said softly, though your voice lacked conviction as the soreness in your legs made you hesitate. You needed a bath—needed to wash off the sweat and evidence of the night before—but as soon as you stood, the dizziness hit you like a freight train.

Your knees buckled, and Logan was there in an instant, catching you before you could hit the ground. “Shit,” he muttered, his grip firm but gentle as he lifted you effortlessly into his arms. “Told you to stay put, babydoll. What the hell were you thinkin’?”

You buried your face in his chest, embarrassed but comforted by his strength. “Wanted a bath,” you mumbled, your voice muffled against his skin.

Logan sighed, shaking his head as he carried you toward the bathroom. “You’re a stubborn little thing, aren’t you?” he said, though there was no real heat in his words.

Logan huffed, a corner of his mouth twitching upward. "After what I put you through, you might wanna sit still for a bit longer."

You rolled your eyes, not trusting yourself to answer as you pushed off the bed. Your legs wobbled the moment your feet hit the floor, and you grabbed onto the edge of the mattress for balance. He didn’t move, but you felt his eyes on you, sharp and assessing.

"You sure about this, princess?" he drawled, clearly amused.

You ignored him, straightening your spine with more confidence than you felt. But the second you tried to take a step, your knees gave out, and you collapsed with a sharp gasp.

Logan was on you before you hit the floor, his strong arms catching you effortlessly. "Jesus Christ," he muttered, hauling you back up like you weighed nothing. "What’d I tell you? Should’ve stayed put."

"I’m fine," you insisted, though your voice was weak, and your body betrayed you with another tremble.

"Yeah, you look fine," he said dryly, carrying you toward the bathroom. His grip was firm but careful, the warmth of his calloused hands grounding you in ways you didn’t want to admit.

When he set you on the edge of the tub, his rough fingers brushed your cheek. "I didn’t mean to go so hard," he muttered, his voice softer now, almost apologetic.

…

You blinked up at him, surprised by the vulnerability that flickered in his gaze. "I loved it, Lo” you murmured, a small smile tugging at your lips. "Every second of it."

Logan’s lips twitched, but he shook his head, crouching to fill the tub. "You’re somethin’ else, you know that?" he grumbled, testing the water with his hand.

He helped you out of the oversized shirt you’d thrown on—his, of course—and his eyes darkened as they roamed over the marks he’d left on your skin. His thumb brushed over a particularly dark bruise on your hip — a hickey , his jaw tightening. "I gotta be more careful with you."

"You’re fine," you whispered, leaning back against the cool tile as the warm water lapped at your thighs. "Really, Logan. I like how you make me feel."

His eyes met yours, sharp and searching, before he gave a low grunt and grabbed the washcloth. He worked in silence, the rough pads of his fingers skimming over your skin with surprising gentleness. Every so often, he’d pause, his gaze lingering on a mark or a faint scratch, and you’d feel the tension ripple through him.

When he reached your thighs, his hands stilled, his jaw clenching as his gaze flicked to yours. "You’re a damn menace," he muttered, though the heat in his voice made your stomach flip.

You smirked, leaning forward to rest your hands on his shoulders. "You weren’t complainin’ earlier."

Logan’s hands tightened on your legs, his knuckles whitening. "You’re playin’ babydoll."

Your fingers trailed up to his neck, nails scratching lightly, batting your eye lashes and you felt the growl rumble deep in his chest. "Maybe”

Before you could blink, Logan was on you, pulling you out of the tub with an ease that made your breath hitch. Water splashed everywhere, but he didn’t seem to care, his mouth crashing against yours as he lifted you onto the counter.

"You don’t know when to quit, do you?" he growled against your lips, his hands sliding up your thighs, spreading you open.

You gasped, your head falling back as his mouth moved to your neck, teeth grazing over the bruises he’d left earlier. "Logan," you whimpered, your fingers digging into his shoulders as your body responded, aching for him all over again.

"Guess we’re doin’ this again," he muttered, his voice rough and thick with want. "But don’t come cryin’ to me later when you can’t walk."

You laughed, breathless and trembling, as his mouth claimed yours again, his hands reminding you exactly why you’d never get enough of him.

Logan still had you wrapped in the towel when he carried you to the bed, his grip strong and effortless, like you weighed nothing in his arms. Even now, after everything, he wasn’t done with you—not even close. He set you down carefully, his rough hands sliding over your damp skin, but the second you settled, he was on you again.

His mouth followed the bruises he’d left behind, pressing slow, deliberate kisses to each one like he was savoring his own work. You shivered as his beard scraped against your skin, the coarse, delicious roughness making every touch feel even more intense. He could be so damn rough when he wanted to be—pushing you to your limits, making sure you felt him everywhere—but then he’d do this. Murmur sweet things against your skin, warm and low. Let his hands stroke over you like he was worshiping every inch of you.

“Did a number on you, huh?” His voice was thick with something between amusement and pride. His hands slid up your thighs again, spreading you open like he owned you.

“You think?” you breathed, fingers curling against his biceps. God, he was so solid, so warm. He felt safe, even like this—especially like this. your breath catching as he kissed between your breasts, his hands palming your waist, keeping you exactly where he wanted you. He chuckled, his lips trailing down your collarbone, slow and teasing. “Look at you,” he murmured, hands roaming, claiming. “So damn pretty covered in me.” His beard dragged over your sensitive skin, sending another shiver through you. He groaned against you, his breath hot against your thigh. “Never get tired of this.”

His fingers tightened, just enough to remind you who was in control. “You take me so damn well, sweetheart. Made for me, huh?” His lips brushed over your neck, his tongue flicking out over a love bite he’d left there earlier. His voice dropped even lower, gravelly and full of something almost reverent.

“You’re perfect like this.”

[iamhereforfunnzies]

Chapter 1: I see you

Bruce overlooking his paperwork and plans of capturing crimminals and crime rates, he felt his stomach grumble. Seeing the grandfather clock tick a 11:15 p.m. he smiled “Just in time for Lunch.” He felt a bit sad knowing he is eating alone today, Dick being Bludhaven, Jason never really visiting, Tim out somewhere with Conner, and Damian out doing voluntary work in a animal shelter. What a lonely time to be in the manor.

    Scratch   

              Heavy breathing was on the otherside of the door he saw you , (Name) how different you were usually … out? But it’s better than eating alone and it would be nice to converse with you , he called you but why do you look at him like that. You arm is bleeding from your intensive scratching , eyes forcing itself not to cry what happened? Why do you look like you died?  “(Name), what are you doing?” you turn to him. “OH- um… Just anxious that’s all” Bruce narrowed his eyes as you look down slowing down on the scratching. “About what?” He sat next to you ,why is he so tall?!

              “Just…I had a nightmare.” GREAT (NAME) (MIDDLENAME) WAYNE , he’s gonna think you’re a huge incompetent baby. Nice going , idiot your mind screams at you. Bruce blinks he feels so amused , how adorable he just wants to pinch your cheeks and coax you to sleep. He chuckled lightly “What happened in your nightmare?” he can’t believe he is having a normal parent to child conversation.  Honestly, your not sure if you can tell him , since it wasn’t a dream you died and then you just time travel back 2 weeks before your death. “ I was walking back to the manor after work.” Bruce hid his shock as you mentioned having a job. “There was a man …” your head throbbed as you try to see your memory clear. “He touched , choke, then…No, No it was choke , someone else touched me, then  a gun was shoved in my mouth.” Your head throbbed harder as your heart was trying to break out your ribs. “Something happened , c’mon remember” you hit your stupid head trying to make your death clear as you start mumbling curse words.

                Bruce stood still not knowing how to respond , he held your hands. “Don’t . Stop. Just don’t think about it.” He was comforting you , now that he had a good look at you. When did you get so tall? Weren’t you just a seedling a month ago? (Name) when did you get your nails done? Why are your eyes so tired? Weren’t you trailing Dick and Tim to play with you? When did your hair changed? Alfred eyes widen as he see’s Bruce hugging you with what looks like a panic attack.  “Lunch is here”

What is wrong with you? Why the hell did you cry infront of him! Never once did Bruce took the time with you. He always seemed so occupied with his little only boys squad doing who know’s what! It’s so weird they are always fighting at the gym with Dick , Tim , and Damian (Rarely Jason), they are so secretive that you just stopped asking questions. Pacing in your quaint room with all this awards from last place to gold , you stare at them how much you lost and won over the years. Yet, you held every lost with pride because you tried well that’s what Alfred tells you.

              A sudden text came in your phone as you see your manager asking you if your free in 2 weeks in Tuesday. You stared at your phone , you died at Tuesday. A normal Tuesday nothing special about the date but you died. You died, you left the message seen.  Staring at yourself in the mirror you said to the mirror. “Am I doing enough to worth living?” Years , hours , days and seconds of awards in your room but not one moment of them stood out. All of this rewards weren’t for you , they were for them.

                             You look at the photo stand of your family I the gala, you were always the one who they claim to protect you but they never tell you anything . Laughing among their little group never explaining to you or care to want you to join in. Even in movie nights it feels like your watching them instead of the movie. Game nights were just you being some extra player they never needed. You grimace as you hid the photo frame of your table. Your childhood was dedicated to appease their eyes , your life to make interesting so they can be interested in your welbecoming but you died. Dead with nothing to remember.

                            A robin in a tree chirping in the trees as the gotham sky in a rare moment glows gold  like heavens gate, the sun shinning, the air crisp and fresh . The robin turns it’s head to you tilting it’s head but flies away with the other birds in the sky. “Fucking heavens , God if this a sign I am not gonna take this second chance for granted.” You muster a trembling smile. “I am gonna lived.” You took your phone.

(Name), are you free the week after this at Tuesday 8:00 a.m.?

Today 12:05 p.m.

                                                                                                                        

   I quit. Thank you for the experience.

                                                                                                                                    Today 12:15 p.m.

I genuinely hope this is readable

[bearforcecaptions]

It started innocently enough. A text buzzed on my phone at 7:00 AM sharp as I blearily smacked the alarm off my nightstand. I squinted at the screen, still half-asleep.

“You’ve been chosen. Reply YES to begin.”

Chosen? I assumed it was spam and set the phone down. I was 37, single, short, and covered in an unflattering layer of thick body hair. Years of poor diets and no exercise had left me chubby and soft. I looked like a man who had given up. What did “chosen” mean for someone like me?

Then the phone buzzed again. This time, the message seemed bolder, the text sharper against the screen:

“Reply YES to become who you were always meant to be.”

I stared at the words. A strange hum began in the back of my mind, faint but insistent, like an itch I couldn’t scratch. I hovered over the screen. I didn’t want to reply. I shouldn’t reply. But my hand moved as though it had a will of its own. I tapped out “YES” and hit send.

The phone vibrated immediately:

“Good choice. Time to begin. Lose the shirt.”

Lose the shirt? I frowned, unsure if I should laugh or scream. But then it happened—a prickling warmth that started at the base of my neck and spread across my shoulders, down my chest. I scratched at my skin, suddenly burning. The itching grew sharper, deeper, until it was unbearable.

I ripped off my shirt, my breath coming in quick gasps. My chest felt… lighter. I glanced at the mirror, my heart plummeting. My chest hair… it was receding, dissolving into my skin. I stepped closer. It wasn’t just my hair. My chest itself looked different. My pale, flabby pecs seemed firmer, the skin smoother, tanner. The skin stretched, my reflection shimmering slightly, like heat rippling in summer air.

“No,” I whispered, backing away. My voice sounded strange—lower, richer, but tremulous. My reflection flickered again. I swore I looked taller… straighter… but that couldn’t be right. My shadow on the wall stretched longer than I remembered, its proportions wrong. I blinked hard, but the distortion lingered.

The phone buzzed again. My hands trembled as I picked it up.

“Looking better. Go for a run. You need to move.”

A run? I couldn’t run. My knees wouldn’t take it. But even as I thought the words, the itch returned—this time in my legs, deep and unrelenting, like something inside me was breaking free. I looked down, horrified as my calves visibly tensed, the muscles rippling beneath my skin. My sneakers were by the door—were they always so spotless? So perfectly white?

The thought dissolved as my body moved of its own accord. I slipped them on, my fingers fumbling clumsily at the laces… but then they cinched tight, snug and perfect, as though molded to me.

The door opened as I stumbled outside. My feet struck the pavement. At first, my gait was uneven, unfamiliar… but the further I went, the easier it became. My steps lengthened. My legs stretched, bones and muscles expanding as I moved. I ran faster than I ever thought possible, faster than I ever could. The wind whistled past my ears. My thighs burned with an electric heat, and I felt them tightening, growing, swelling with strength I didn’t understand.

The world blurred around me, trees and cars streaking like paint on canvas. I caught a glimpse of my reflection in a parked car window—a tall, lean figure, chest heaving but strong, running effortlessly. My breath hitched. I almost tripped. That wasn’t me… was it? My short, squat legs had vanished, replaced by long, muscular limbs that moved with impossible grace. My face…

I forced myself to look away and ran harder.

When I finally stopped, I was outside a gym I didn’t recognize. It loomed in front of me, clean and sleek, its sliding glass doors glowing faintly under the morning sun. My phone buzzed again.

“Go in. Your session awaits.”

I wiped sweat from my forehead and turned to leave… but my feet wouldn’t move. The itch was back—in my arms, in my shoulders. My body ached to lift, to strain. I turned back to the gym. The doors slid open soundlessly as I approached, beckoning me inside.

The air hit me like a wave: clean, sharp, laced with the scent of iron and sweat. I should’ve been disgusted, but it felt grounding… familiar. I stepped inside. A receptionist—a guy I’d never seen before—nodded at me like I belonged there.

“Late today, huh?” he said with a grin.

I swallowed thickly, my throat dry. I didn’t know him, but his words didn’t feel wrong. My feet carried me to a locker in the back, where I found a bag waiting for me—a sleek black bag with my name stitched into the side. My name.

I unzipped it, pulling out a tank top and shorts, pristine and athletic. My trembling hands stripped my sweat-soaked clothes, my eyes darting to the mirror on the wall. My chest was different. Pecs pushed outward, hard and defined. My arms… smooth, tanned, veins threading their way up my forearms. I looked taller. My legs—thick, powerful, carved with striations I didn’t recognize.

The phone buzzed.

“Lift. Heavy. You know what to do.”

I didn’t question it. My body carried me to the racks, loading plates effortlessly. The barbell felt good in my grip—like it belonged there. Each lift was easy at first, then harder… but the burn was exhilarating. My body drank it in, my muscles swelling. I caught my reflection—a tall, confident man with a smirk I didn’t recognize. Was that… me?

When I left the gym, I didn’t feel scared anymore. The streets looked brighter, cleaner, as if the world had sharpened. My body hummed. I walked with a swagger I couldn’t stop.

At home—if it could still be called that—the apartment was unrecognizable. The grimy carpet and peeling wallpaper were gone, replaced by smooth hardwood floors and modern, minimalist walls in muted tones. The cluttered mess that once filled the space had vanished, replaced by sleek black and chrome furniture that screamed wealth and precision. A massive bed—king-sized with a perfectly ironed, deep green duvet—dominated the room, flanked by matching nightstands with tasteful lamps. Sunlight streamed through floor-to-ceiling windows I knew weren’t there before, giving the space an airy, expensive glow.

My heart pounded as I moved through the room, my footsteps softened by a plush rug that stretched across the floor. Gym equipment—a polished set of dumbbells and a weight bench—was arranged neatly in the corner, as if waiting for me. On the opposite side of the room, a gleaming shelf displayed protein powders, shaker bottles, and a row of vitamins like trophies. I froze, staring at the items, my mind foggy. None of this was mine… yet it felt like it always had been. A strange sense of ownership crept over me, erasing the last dregs of unease.

I ran a hand over the sleek surface of the dresser, where neatly folded gym clothes sat waiting—tanks, fitted shirts, athletic shorts. A faint scent lingered in the air—clean, musky, mine. I swallowed hard, my pulse slowing as the tension in my chest faded. It was all perfect. Better than I could have ever imagined.

I took a hesitant step toward the massive bed, its deep green duvet somehow inviting. My body ached from the workout, but it was a satisfying ache—a good kind of pain. Without even thinking, I sat down on the edge, the mattress firm but comfortable beneath me. A strange sense of ease washed over me as I sank back onto the pillows, legs stretching out across the bed as though I belonged there.

The sunlight streamed through the tall windows, warming my skin. I stared at the ceiling for a long moment, my chest rising and falling steadily. For the first time all day, I felt still—but not out of place. The tension I had been carrying, the lingering confusion, all of it seemed distant now, like something that didn’t matter anymore.

My phone buzzed on the pristine nightstand, breaking the quiet. I turned my head lazily, almost relieved to hear it, as though it grounded me in this new reality. I reached over, my fingers curling around it easily, the screen glowing faintly:

“Upload your selfie and forget you were ever anyone else.”

I sat back lazily on the bed, leaning onto one elbow as I stretched out, legs sprawled wide in front of me. My thighs—thick, strong, and defined—were framed perfectly by the tight black briefs I hadn’t even realized I was wearing, the fabric clinging to my body in all the right ways. My chest, still flushed from the workout, rose and fell steadily, every breath making the defined curves of my pecs stand out. The sunlight streaming through the window highlighted the smooth tan of my skin, making the faint lines of veins on my forearms and biceps look almost deliberate, like they belonged on a statue.

The corner of my mouth curled into a lazy smirk as I turned on the camera, the phone already in my hand, its weight feeling natural. The screen flashed to life, and the reflection staring back at me was perfect—a sharp jawline angled just right by the sunlight streaming through the windows, dark hair tousled messily yet somehow flawlessly, and eyes gleaming with a cocky, knowing confidence. My chest, still flushed from the earlier workout, looked broad and solid, the light casting faint shadows across the defined curves of my pecs.

I adjusted slightly, leaning back further into the pillows as I sprawled out, my thick, powerful thighs taking up the frame. The snug black briefs I wore clung perfectly to me, the fabric highlighting every inch of muscle—quads that looked carved from stone and calves flexed lazily. My legs spread wider as though by instinct, one foot, still clad in a clean white sock, resting casually in the foreground. The sunlight danced across the tanned, smooth skin of my forearms, catching on the faint veins threading up toward my biceps, which flexed subtly as I held the phone aloft.

I tilted the camera, ensuring the angle captured everything—my smirk, my body stretched across the bed, the sheer effortlessness of it all. It was perfect. I didn’t even need to think about it. The words slipped out, low and satisfied:

“Perfect.”

I snapped the photo, letting the moment linger for a second longer, and then uploaded it to Instagram without hesitation.

--

I toss my phone onto the bed and stretch, kicking my legs out and flexing absently. The day’s barely started, but the gym’s already done its work—my quads are still burning in the best way.

The group chat pings, and I glance at it, smirking. Plans for tonight? Always. I grab a water bottle off the nightstand, take a long swig, and flex my bicep without even thinking about it.

The sunlight feels good. I lean back, scratching idly at my chest. The world’s as it should be. Everything feels right.

[aliceinborderlandsquidgame]

Say it back | The Salesman x Wife!Reader |

Summary: Playing jokes with your husband its never a good idea.

Warnings: Obsession - Possessive!Salesman - Suggestive - Unhealthy relationship - Suggestive -

"I love you my Love, have a good day" The Salesman says kissing your lips, checking himself on the mirror one last time before going to the door.

And he stops.

Because the Salesman its a creature of habit. Morning routines have centrain aspects that cant be changed.

And one of them is getting a kiss from you and a "I love you back" before he opens the door to leave and meet the future unfortunated ones for the games.

But he hears nothing, just the soft music from your phone as you eat your breakfast.

The Salesman waits, one, two, up to three minutes.

He goes back to check if he did forgot something. Was this a special date ? No. Did you two have anything planned ? No. Did he do something drastic to you this morning? No.

He leans in front of you, turning the music off.

"My Love" He starts tone calm, way too calm. "I said I loved you"

"Yes, I did hear" Its your response "Can I get my phone back?" You ask him and when he puts it away and leaves his briefcase you know you have done it.

You fucked up.

"Dear wait-" You stand up trying to rasonate with him but he is not listening as he walks towards you like a predator. "I was just-"

You are cut off as he pushes you against on the wall hard. The air leaving your lungs for a moment. Your head does not hit the wall because his hand was in between.

"You were wait my Love?" He asks right into your ear his grip on your arm strong and possessive as his other one goes down caressing your side stopping at your hip. "Please enlight me on what you were doing" He says biting your neck softly

Maybe your brain did not register the threat tone his voice carries or maybe you wanted to see how much you could push him.

"I was having breakfast till you decided to get back and interrump me"

By the cold look he gives you and the shiver that runs down your spine thats both from exciment and fear you know you have made him mad.

"Oh, so you were doing that?" He asks, there is a warning there. He knows what you are doing and he is not liking it.

He takes your neck in one hand giving it a firm grip, its not enough to let yourself without air but enough for it to feel like a real warning and a danger. To let you know just as much as he can love you he can hurt you.

"I will give you a second chance" He says one hand cupping your core making you gasp "And if you answer like a good wife, the good one I know you are I will think on not being too...rough with you"

Maybe. Thats the last word his mind thinks.

"I- I was going to say that I loved you back but I forgot" You lie feeling one finger go inside your pants and past your undewear teasting you. "P-Please I just-"

But he does not believe you. He knows how to read people and hell, he knows how to read you. Part of you was made by him.

"You forgot?" He says adding pressure on your neck and his finger starting to go faster inside you "You forgot how much you love ? Tell me does this happen often ? Or did you wake up and decide to hurt my feelings today ?

He sees your cheeks go red and your breathing faster. He knows he has you were he wants you, but a part of him screams that you need to be punish.

"Should I cut the air your brain is getting and see if a little re start brings your intelligent self back?" He whispers over your lips as his grips turns harder and his finger faster.

Your foggy brain does register the danger and you are quick to say no, he urges you to continue talking.

"I was joking. I wanted to see your reaction if I did not say it back. Im sorry if I hurt your feelings" Tears forms, not from the pain but from the pleasure his finger is giving you, hitting that sweet spot inside you.

The Salesmab smirks at that. He kisses away your tears and gives you a sweet kiss as he lets go of your neck. At the same time he removes his finger form you sucking it clean keeping a intense eye contact as he does.

"Good girl, thats my lovely and intelligent wife" He says giving you another kiss, letting you prove yourself on his lips. But just as you were going to ask for permission he puts himself away from you.

"Keep the same clothes. Dont leave the house today and, you better wait for me on that needy state of you. If you touch yourself, I will know and Love you wont like what I will do, I promise you that"

He turns taking his briefcase back and looking at you over his shoulder.

"I love you my Love" He says once again starting to leave

"I love you too Dear, have a good day at work" You manage to say without suttering.

"Thanks Love, there is cream in the bathroom for your neck" He says before finally leaving the aparment.

Would he have choke you till you passed out ? Defenetly. Its a good thing you are a fast learner.

[hoonquette]

these are the days, nishimura riki.

【 another night with your friendly neighborhood spider-man 】 fem ! r 𓈒 fluff college au spider-man!riki + 665wc ── incl. mentions of injuries unproofread writing.

it's been an entire month since you've gotten a full night's rest. granted, you should be used to it—college has definitely ruined your sleep schedule for the next four years—but you'd gotten at least three hours of sleep.

thanks to nishimura riki, your friendly neighborhood spider-man (more commonly known as your boyfriend), those three hours have been reduced to maybe one. since you've found out about his identity, you've spent most nights worrying about his wellbeing, other nights were spent patching him up and tending to his wounds.

tonight is one of those nights.

one of the nights where you rub ointment against his bruised and cut skin, a look of disapproval on your face. he's tried talking to you, but you didn't answer, not wanting to snap at him for being so.. impulsive.

when you're done, you sigh, closing up the first aid kit you'd bought after the second time he came through your window. he stares at you, his eyes apologetic and a small frown on his lips.

he had changed once you let him in, throwing off his mask, and changing into one of the pair of sweats he'd left here. he foregone a shirt—wanting you to see the bruise that'd no doubt be forming on his back after being slammed against a wall.

you nearly strangled him when he told you that.

you understand that this is his unofficial job, something that he enjoys, but it doesn't mean you have to like it. especially when he's not being as careful as you would like him to be.

"alright, fine." he starts, leaning back on your bed, "i'll stop going after the small guys."

"i'm not worried about the 'small guys', ki."

"car jackers can be dangerous. so can—" you interrupt, hitting him with a pillow. he rolls away and lets out a surprised yelp. from the edge of the bed, "you shouldn't hit your injured boyfriend."

"my boyfriend wouldn't be injured if he stopped being stupid."

"i'm a superhero; we're all stupid."

you glare at him and he relents, holding his hands up in surrender. "okay, i'll be more mindful of how hard i'm being hit from now on. good?"

"not good," you crawl over to him, laying next to his body, "but fine. just stop coming over when you look like you're about to pass out. go to an actual hospital."

he rolls over again, this time so that he's hovering above you. suddenly, it feels like you're the one with the concussion—no matter how long you're with him, you don't think you'll ever get used to the close proximity riki seems to crave—and you look away.

you can see him smile out of your peripheral, biting his lip to keep from laughing. "hey, look at me."

you debate not listening to him, but you know he won't speak again until you do, so you (hesitantly) look at him.

riki's smile brightens and he places a kiss on your nose, then on your cheek, forehead, and finally your lips. the kiss lasts for a fleeting moment, but it melts you all the same.

"i wanna be with you, though." he kisses you again, "want your face to be the last thing i see before i faint from exhaustion."

you can't help the giggles that escape, turning your head away from him and covering his mouth with your hand. "stop—don't say that."

"it's true." he pulls your hand from his mouth, but not before kissing it. "plus, i can't go to a hospital, dork."

"okay, okay, whatever. new rule: be better than the other superheros. be smart."

"that gave me chills. you should be a motivational speaker."

you shove him off of you, telling him yo be serious as you do so, and your boyfriend lets out a dramatic scream of so-called pain. when he's done with his mini-monologue about how mean of a girlfriend you are, he caresses your cheek.

"i'll be smarter, though, make you worry you less. promise."

ADRiANNA 🦷 hai :3 i needed a spiderman!riki fic in order to heal from Well idk most things

[dreamykira]

You Shouldn't Be Here I NAM-GYU x reader

˗ˏˋSUMMARY ´ˎ˗

╰┈➤ Thrown into the deadly Squid Game, the reader is shocked to find their cold and stoic boyfriend, Nam-Gyu, among the players. After barely surviving Red Light, Green Light, they reunite—but instead of relief, Nam-Gyu is furious.

˗ˏˋWARNINGS ´ˎ˗

╰┈➤ Angst to fluff, mentions of shooting, mentions of blood. Nam-Gyu is really kind of mean. Other than that there really shouldn't be anything else. ps! English is not my first language

˗ˏˋAUTHOR'S NOTE ´ˎ˗

╰┈➤ i've been CRAVING some nam-gyu angst. i feel like most of the fics i've read abt him are always super explicit, kind of making him look like a manipulative maniac who is addicted to violent sex. so i wanted to write something that still kind of shows his mean and "dickheadish" side, but also brings out the love he has for the reader.

word count: 894

You don’t know how you’re still standing.

Your legs feel weak, your body is trembling, and the sound of gunfire still rings in your ears. The first game—Red Light, Green Light—had been nothing like you imagined. You thought it was a joke at first. You thought it was some elaborate prank.

But now, all you can think about is the bodies. The way people screamed. The way the floor was painted red in an instant.

And you survived. Somehow, you survived. 

You force yourself to keep moving as the remaining players shuffle back into the dormitory, but all you want to do is collapse. Your hands won’t stop shaking, and your throat is so dry it hurts.

That’s when you see him.

The moment you see Nam-Gyu standing across the dormitory, your stomach twists into a knot. He looks just as intimidating as ever—tall, broad-shouldered, and completely unapproachable, his dark eyes scanning the room with a permanent scowl. But when his gaze lands on you, that scowl hardens into something much worse.

Oh no.

You don’t even get a chance to look away before he starts moving, shoving past other contestants without a care. You shrink back, instinctively pressing yourself against the wall, heart hammering. Maybe if you keep your head down, he’ll just—

Nope.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” he hisses, voice low but sharp.

You blink up at him, heart hammering. “W-What?”

He yanks you toward the farthest corner of the room, away from prying eyes. His grip is tight, and your body is too weak to resist. The second he stops, he lets go of your wrist—only to shove your shoulder, making you stumble back a step.

“I—” You swallow, trying to find the right words, but your mind blanks under his glare.

“You didn’t tell me you were joining,” he snaps. “What the hell were you thinking?”

You hesitate, then mumble, “I… I didn’t know you’d be here.”

Nam-Gyu’s expression twists with something close to fury. “That’s not the point, idiot.” He steps closer, his presence suffocating. “You think this is some kind of a joke? Do you even understand where the hell you are?”

Your throat feels tight. “I— I didn’t have a choice.”

His scoff is sharp and cold. “Bullshit.”

Tears prickle at the corners of your eyes, but you blink them away as fast as you can. You don’t want to cry in front of him—not when he’s already looking at you like you’re pathetic.

“I thought… I thought maybe I could win,” you whisper. “You always said I was useless when it came to paying off our debt, but if I win, I—”

“You?” He cuts you off with a bitter laugh. “You think you’re gonna make it through this?” His words hit harder than you expect. “You can’t even stand up for yourself in normal life. What makes you think you’re gonna survive this?”

You flinch, tears welling up faster now. “I—I don’t know.” Your voice wobbles, and you hate how small you sound.

Nam-Gyu exhales sharply, dragging a hand down his face like he’s losing his patience. “Unbelievable,” he mutters. “Of all people, it had to be you.”

That does it. The tears spill over, and you quickly look down, ashamed. You knew he’d be mad. You knew he wouldn’t be happy to see you. But did he really have to say it like that?

Nam-Gyu lets out a sharp breath. “Oh, for fuck’s sake—”

“I—I won’t bother you,” you manage, wiping at your face with your sleeve. “If it’s such a problem, I’ll stay away. You don’t have to take care of me.”

The second the words leave your mouth, Nam-Gyu freezes. His whole body tenses like you just said something truly offensive.

“…What?” His voice is dangerously low now.

You sniffle, still not looking at him. “I get it. Worrying about me will stress you out. So I’ll stay out of your way. I promise.”

The silence that follows is suffocating. Then, in one swift movement, Nam-Gyu grabs your wrist again—gentler this time, but no less firm.

“Don’t be stupid.” His voice is quieter now, but there’s something sharp underneath it. “You think I’m just gonna let you wander around here alone? Get yourself killed?”

You hesitate. “But you—”

“I don’t care what I said,” he cuts you off, his grip tightening just slightly. “You’re not leaving my side.”

Your breath catches, but before you can process it, Nam-Gyu sighs heavily. Then, without another word, he pulls you into his chest.

You freeze.

He’s never been like this before— never let his walls down even a little. But now, with his arms around you, one hand pressing against the back of your head, you can feel it. The way his heart beats just a little too fast. The way his fingers twitch like he wants to hold on tighter.

“…Stop crying,” he mutters, though there’s no real bite in his voice anymore. “I’m not mad at you.”

That’s a lie, but somehow, you believe him anyway.

You sniffle again, gripping the front of his jacket. “You sounded mad.”

Nam-Gyu sighs again, pressing his forehead against the top of your head. “Yeah, well… you scared the shit out of me.”

It’s the closest thing to an “I care about you” that you’re ever going to get from him. And for now, it’s enough.

[tvgals]

ok so boom, baseball player! ony and his actress! wife strikes again.

ony has been signed to the dodgers for five years now, and he doesn’t plan on retiring anytime soon. he’s been hitting absolute piss missiles for the past year and knows everyone in the league fears him as one of the most feral outfielders in the game.

ony has been on top of the world for years, the biggest headlines featuring his name and how you and him are the best couple to come out since kanye and kim, how the two of you are inseparable and can’t help but show the world, but when you two fight, it’s also obvious to the whole world. ony is a hothead, when the ump makes a terrible call, he’s the first to start throwing curse words and throw and hit shit around the dugout, and you hate it. you hate it because he’s giving himself a bad rap. sure, he could be the best fucking player in the world, but his shitty attitude could cost him a lot.

-

“baby. you know they always make shit worse on tv.” ony argues, leaning back in the drivers seat of his 2019 porsche 718 booster you were pissed. today, the dodgers played against the cincinnati reds, and ony struck out for the first time in a month off of a terrible call, a ball that was basically skimming the ground. he was furious, he stomped his way to the dugout and everyone knew to move out his way. ony flipped out, smashing his bat, throwing around the large gatorade containers, flinging helmets around, the whole thing. you were fuming in the stands, standing up and stomping away yourself. you couldn’t believe ony. you told him that you didn’t wanna see him act a fool in front of all these people again that he was making a bad reputation for himself everytime he acted out…but he never listened.

“you know that everytime you act an ass, it goes back to the dodgers and it makes everyone look bad. you need to calm down.” you reprimand him, scrolling on twitter to see everything people are saying about your husband. “why do you care so much?” he asks, rolling his deep brown eyes. in all honesty, ony couldn’t care less how people perceived him. he’ll forever be known as that dodgers player, that everyone will love him no matter how bad his attitude is. but for whatever reason, you can’t see that. you don’t understand why they put up with him…how you put up with him.

“take me home.” you grumble, firm and angry. ony huffs to himself, stepping on the gas. you watch out the window as you see the trees and mountains pass by as a blur, you felt your body be almost forcefully pushed into your seat, as if you couldn’t lean forward. “ony, slow down.” you warm him, digging your fingernails into the seat. “you wanna go home, right?” he asks, a small chuckle mixed in. your heart started to race and you feel like you can’t breathe. “onyankopon. i am not fucking kidding, slow the car down!” you yell, tears pricking at your eyes. “shutup. just shut up. all you do is preach at me and make me feel like a little kid all the time. i will crash this fucking car if you don’t shut up.” he yells back, stepping on the gas harder. in his haze of anger, he doesn’t notice the deer standing in the middle of the road, or the way you scream, or the way he doesn’t yank the wheel to move out of the way.

the deer hits the car with an insane force of power, taking the bumper off and cracking the windshield almost to oblivion. ony pulls over, the car creaking and shards of glass peppered around the inside of the car. you can’t hold it in anymore and you start sobbing, you can see the way the glass has scarred your skin, you can feel how bad your back hurts and how your eyes feel like they’re about to pop. “what the fuck is wrong with you?!” you scream, unbuckling your seatbelt and slapping ony across the face. he’s stuck in place, his hands grippping the steering wheel with extreme force. “are you fucking kidding me?! you almost killed us and now you wanna be quiet? get the fuck out of here.” you wail, flinging the car door open and steadily stepping out.

you walk away to god knows where, as long as it’s not with that fucking maniac.

[mayasaurusss]

could we pretty please get something about being in a flirty rivalry with Shauna shipman? thanks if you do :3

Tha's kinky, Shipman

Contains: afab Shauna, afab reader, angry sex, use of swear words, enemies to more. A/N: after I saw the end of episode two, I just couldn't let this ask sit in my inbox any longer😂, Enjoy, Shauna simps!

You don't like Shauna Shipman. You never liked her, not once since you met her. There was something dark about her, something that scared you, but you couldn't place your finger on it.

It certainly didn't help when she started to nitpick you for being a newbie in the team.

"You have to get the ball in the net, okay? In the net" she told you with those dark eyes of her burning holes in your head. You tried and tried, but no matter what you did, it was never enough for Shauna.

It wasn't long enough that you started to reciprocate her behavior. Did she miss a goal or fell on her ass during practice? Oh you would for sure let her know. At every chance you get, you'll tease the shit out of her, watching as her eyes become dangerously dark. It's the same routine today. Monday afternoon, the sky is dark, the rain cold, but you still commit your mind and body to the bit. You are on the opposite team, facing Lottie, Natalie, Taissa and Shauna. A loud whistle marks the beginning of the game, giving everyone the sign to start.

You're up first, face to face with Shauna. She passess the ball to Mari, but she fails and lets it slip right into your grasp, earning exasperated insults from her teammates. You kick the ball with your right foot, trying to send it to Laura Lee, but it's swiftly stolen by the brunette, who now aims for the net. Just as she's about to score a goal, she slips in the mud, falling face first into it and losing the opportunity to score one point for her team. You, who ran after her, stop right at her feet, already savouring the words in your mouth.

"You're supposed to get the ball in the net, okay? In the net" and oh it feels so good to say that. But Shauna has a different opinion. "You- fucker!" she's about to raise her fist and land it square on your face, but before she can do that, she's stopped by Taissa.

Now it's Gen's turn. She runs across the field, dodging the others, until she passes the ball to you. Fate wanted you to suffer Shauna's own fate. Just as you are about to score, you're yanked backwards by the back of your shirt, its edge pressing terribly hard on your neck and exposing your lower back to the cold winter's air, then, to the wet grass below. Shauna, that little bitch, is the culprit, smiling that fucking stupidly cruel smile of her as you writhe under her weight. She decided to sit directly on top of your hips, flashing her victory right on your face.

You couldn't stand her. But if that's the case, why everytime she stalks you during a game, falls on top of you and gives you that shit eating grin of hers, your heart skips a beat?

"What the fuck is your problem?!" you scream at her, watching as her face turns into a snarl. Did she really expect you to thank her for almost making you break your spine? "You are the one who fucking fell on top of me first!" it's not long that you two both scream at each other that Coach Scott comes, sending you on the sidelines until the game's over, forcing you to do five laps around the entire field.

You stop when six pm hits, standing in the locker room wet and cold like a stray puppy.

You try so hard not to give that crazy bitch next you any kind of attention, but she beats you to it. "You are so full of shit" she says, evidently not able to stop her mouth from spewing hate at you. "Excuse me? You are the one who started it!" a vein pops in your head, ready to pump blood in your heart and making you aggressive. "Yeah, because you fucking suck at soccer. Have you ever thought of doing something more your league? Like, I don't know, cheerleading? You'd be good at that"; Shauna doesn't grasp how that sounds until the last word spills from her lips. "Why, because I'm hot or because you'd like to see me in a skirt?" for a moment, her brain entertains the idea, picturing you in a skimpy cheerleader dress, cheering for her... What the fuck are you thinking?

"You'd look good..." she never meant for it to slip from her lips, already regretting it as you turn to her with a snarky look on your face. God, she wishes she could erase it, wishes she could force you to your knees and relish in your pain. Or pleasure. She's not really sure. "What was that?", Shauna makes the effort to not meet your gaze as she speaks, fearing that if she locks her eyes with yours, she won't be able to resist you. "No, I wouldn't; because all you could ever hope to become in this life is a bimbo. You are as dumb as them. I'm sure you'd like to get fucked like one too". Fucked like one? That's kinky, Shipman.

"I'd say bimbos deserve more respect: they sure have more of it than you" she shuts close her locker, the force of the impact sending droplets of water everywhere. She stomps over just in time for you to turn, slamming her hand on your throath and sending your head on the locker. "That's it. I'm fucking tired of you and your bullshit".

"And what are you gonna do about it, Shipman? Trample over me next practice? Fuck me in this locker room?"; oh you so deserved this.

Shauna doesn't even register her lips on yours until she hears your moan. She has you trapped between her and the locker, her hands bruising your hips with the sheer strength behind her touch.

The ghost of her teeth on your lips is harsh, biting and snarling like she's a wolf savouring its delicious prey. She's pressed so tightly against you that breathing proves difficult, your brain barely registering the lack of oxygen until she draws away, wiping a trail of spit with the back of her band, before assaulting your lips again.

She parts your legs with her knee, making space to slip her hand beneath your shorts. You’re wet enough for her to hook her pointer finger over the hood of your clit, but not enough to enter you just yet. Shauna kisses and licks at the neck of your skin, makes out with you like a starved woman, like your lips will be the last ones she will feel on hers. And when her fingers slide between your folds with ease, she pushes them in, gasping at how tightly you're gripping her.

"There it is. Look, you could be good at something, if you were a slut" those dark eyes of hers look into you, her lips curling in a cruel smirk. She's really taking pleasure in hurting you, isn't she?

You don't want to let her words affect you, but you guess you don't know any better. "Fuck off Shipman" you say between gritted teeth, anger stronger than pleasure is. But when she straightens her fingers inside, touching a spot that makes you see stars, you gasp loudly, earning a sick laugh from your rival.

You don't last long, pleasure taking a hold of your brain. White flashes beneath your eyelids, so close to the edge that you can practically feel it. But you're moving too much for Shauna's liking: she presses against you by the height of her crotch, effectively trapping you more into her space. You come under her touches, finally losing yourself in pleasure, staining your and her jersey probably forever.

You are far too tired, limbs so weak that you slide right down on the ground. Just when you think she's gonna be soft, that she will hold you and ask you if you are okay, Shauna walks towards the locker room's exit, a barely disguised warm gaze in her eyes. "Clean yourself up" she says, leaving you alone.

It's still raining when Shauna sits at the bus stop. She kicks away pebbles with her foot, replaying what she did to you tonight over and over again. Almost instinctively, she looks at the hand that made you ride your high, only to find faint traces of you on them.

The blush that spreads through her face could rival the reddest of tomatoes, and she quickly fishes for a napkin and the remnants of water in her bottle, cleaning herself at the best she could.

Shit. That was... Wow.

If Shauna really hates you, then why does she wants to see that fucked out look on your face again? And why does her heart skip a beat thinking about you? Ah! "Fuck".

[wendichester]

I’m slowly going through your stories - I love every single one of them, they’re amazingly written. And I was wondering if you could write one about Dean teaching Sam’s partner drive? She’s Sam’s age and claims that she doesn’t need to know when she has the two of them.

Thank you so much 🩷🩷🩷

⋆｡° ✮ stick shift,

summary. dean teaches you how to drive!

pairing. dean winchester x sam's gf!reader

wordcount. 501

notes. i was actually meaning to write dean teaching reader to drive, so this one came in handy ehe hope you like bubs! 🩷

“You realize this is unnecessary, right?” you say, arms crossed as you lean against the Impala. “I have two perfectly capable chauffeurs.”

Dean scoffs, tossing you the keys. “Yeah, and one day, Sam and I might not be around to drive your ass.”

Your stomach tightens at that, but you mask it with an eye roll. “Not exactly a vote of confidence, Winchester.”

“Get in the car.”

With an exaggerated sigh, you slide into the driver’s seat. The leather is warm under your fingers as you grip the wheel, the scent of whiskey, motor oil, and Dean's cologne lingering in the air.

Dean settles into the passenger seat, stretching out like he owns the place—because, well, he does. He taps the dashboard. “Alright, sweetheart, let’s start with the basics. Foot on the brake, turn the key.”

You do as you’re told, and the Impala rumbles to life beneath you. It sends a thrill through your chest—not that you’d admit it.

Dean watches you like a hawk. “Now shift into drive—slowly—and ease off the brake.”

You move the shifter, hesitant but determined. The car lurches forward, and you instinctively slam the brake, jerking both of you in your seats.

Dean lets out a dry laugh. “Jesus. You tryna kill me before we even hit the road?”

“Sorry!” you wince. “She’s touchy.”

“She’s a ‘67 Chevy, not a goddamn Prius.” Dean gestures forward. “Try again, nice and easy.”

This time, you press the gas more carefully, and the car rolls forward smoothly. A grin tugs at your lips. “Okay, that wasn’t awful.”

“There ya go,” Dean says, sounding almost proud. “Now, let’s take her out.”

You pull onto the road, gripping the wheel like your life depends on it. Dean watches you, surprisingly patient, arms folded across his chest.

For a few minutes, it’s fine. You’re actually doing it, driving the damn Impala. Then—

“Shit, stop sign!”

You panic, foot slamming the brake too hard. The Impala screeches to a halt, and Dean lets out a grunt as he’s thrown forward.

“Son of a bitch,” he mutters, rubbing his chest.

“Why didn’t you tell me sooner?!”

“I did!”

“Well, maybe don’t scream at me!”

Dean levels you with a look, then sighs. “Alright, alright. Look, you’re doing fine, but let’s try not to give me whiplash, huh?”

You glare at him, cheeks burning. “I don’t know why I’m even doing this.”

Dean tilts his head. “Because one day, you might have to get behind the wheel. Maybe Sam’s hurt, or we’re in trouble, and you gotta get outta Dodge.” His voice is softer now. “You need to be able to take care of yourself.”

You chew your lip. That’s the real reason, isn’t it? Not because Dean thinks you’re helpless, but because he refuses to let you be.

“…Fine,” you grumble. “But if I wreck your car, that’s on you.”

Dean grins. “Don't test my patience, sweetheart. Go on,”

You roll your eyes and press the gas, this time a little more confident.

want be part of the taglist.ᐣ ⋆.˚ ★— @iloveeveryoneyoureamazing ⋆ @deans-daydream ⋆ @taurus0queenie33 ⋆ @ambiguous-avery ⋆ @krabog ⋆ @itsdearapril ⋆ @nymphet-quenn ⋆ @bluemerakis ⋆ @titsout4jackles ⋆ @lyarr24 ⋆ @hauntedrose555 ⋆ @chevroletdean ⋆ @dulcescorderitas ⋆ @blackmarketfruitrollups ⋆ @impala67rollingthroughtown ⋆ @rulesareshadesofgrey ⋆ @nervoussystems ⋆ @daryls-luvrr ⋆ @sunnyteume ⋆ @drakelover78 ⋆ @angelblqde ⋆ @mostlymarvelgirl ⋆ @whisperingdaze ⋆ @funkenniffler ⋆ @bossyblondie ⋆ @lieutenantchaos ⋆ @iluvnewtie ⋆ @dyhsversion ⋆ @lovewolfspirit ⋆ @kayleighwinchester ⋆ @s0urw00lf ⋆ @cursednevermore ⋆ @img14 ⋆ @onelonelybitch ⋆ @americanvenom13 ⋆ @iluvdeanwinchester ⋆ @idk6505 ⋆ @devilslittlehelper ⋆ @cloverleaf20 ⋆ @giggles1026 ⋆ @idontwannabehere7 ⋆ @beakaleak32 ⋆ @ocelotlist51 ⋆ @lelapine ⋆ @pwin098 ⋆ @lacysretribution ⋆ @globetrotter28 ⋆ @aerinu ⋆ @i-love-gvf ⋆ @bejeweledinterludes ⋆ @chi_raz

[itzy-bitsy-spidey]

"Pokemon collection (pt. 7)"

Or "something made a hole in my backyard pt.7"

Shadow The Hedgehog x reader (platonic)

Notes: Happy Valentine's day!! If you're feeling nice leave a comment, they are hugely appreciated!

Part 6

Fainting was a weird sensation. It´s like when you stood up really fast and you get dizzy, except instead of going away the dizzines just makes you fall to the ground and hit your head.

It was the waking up part that was higly confusing. Mainly because the first thing you saw was a yellow-orangey creature.

"AHHHHH" Yeah, probably the whole neighborhood heard you scream.

And then you heard multiple voices at the same time from which what you understod was: "Hey, there´s no need to scream" from what sounded like a child, "You´re not dead!" from an older child, "This one is weird, she is silent and then loud" that sounded like a grown ass adult. And there was also Ozzy barking.

"Okay everybody, move aside, give her some space" Now that voice you did recognize, that was your aunt Maddie.

Only when she sat next to you did you register that you were laying in the couch. How long had it been?

"Hey sweetie" She started as she gently laid her hand on your arm as though you were a scared animal that would run off at any moment. "I´m sorry this all came as a surprise to you, we didn´t mean to..."

"I´M BACK, WHO SCREAMED?" Tom interrupted her as he appeared out of nowhere, or maybe he had come from upstairs, you didn´t know, you were sooo confused.

"What happened? And why is there a blue hedghog here?"

"We were going to tell you, but then you showed up with Shadow and we didn´t want to..." Once again your aunt was interrupted.

"Hi! I´m Sonic! Your super awesome cousin you didn´t know you had" The hedgehog practically screamed on your face.

"I´m sorry, did you just say cousin?" You asked at him, but you didn´t even let him speak as you turned towards your uncle "Is this why you said kids? Are these... things..."

"Rude" Said, well, Sonic, you guessed.

"...Your kids? And you didn´t tell me?" You couldn´t quite tell if you were feeling offended or confused, there was a sort of thightness on your chest, as if you were hugely overlooking a very important detail.

"Why did you not tell me? And why are there so many of them? What, do you collect them like fucking pokemons or something?" Now you did know what you were feeling.

Angry, hot with anger. You could feel it in every vein on your body, your eyes couldn´t focus on anything, until you found a victim, still sitting right at your side.

"I asked you for help! I thought he was dying and you didn´t even think about telling me that you had seen others like him?!" you screamed at your aunt Maddie as you got up from the couch.

"I didn´t know what to do, he is dangerous!" She quipped right back.

"That´s not your call to make, I would have handled it if you had said something" that was probably one of the first times in your life you had disagreed with your aunt.

Shadow wasn´t dangerous. Sure, he was hurt and he didn´t really trust you, but that didn´t make him dangerous.

"HE TRIED TO KILL TOM!"

...

...

"What?"

Your voice had came out so low you weren´t sure the words had actually left your mouth at all.

"He did, that´s why he has a broken arm" Maddie explained as she grabbed your hands on hers.

"But he´s not bad..."

"He has the ability to be..." she stated as if it was an unmistakable truth.

"Maddie that´s enough, we talked about this" Finally Tom approached the two of you, he put his working arm in between you and stared sternly at his wife. Yet she kept looking at you in your eyes.

"But it doesn´t matter anymore, he´s gone" She tried to smile reassuringly.

"What?" Suddenly the hold on your hands felt restrictive "What do you mean? What did you do?!" you ripped your hands of of hers.

"I-I, nothing, I didn´t do nothing, he was gone when I went looking for you" She seemed shocked at your harsh reaction.

Dread filled your entire body, it had drenched you in an awful way, freezing you from head to toes. A sound left your lips, it wasn´t quite a word, more like a strained gasp.

And the you ran.

You didn´t hear your aunt calling for you as you left the house, or the little yellow fox asking "What is going on?", all you could be aware of was the blood pumping through your legs and your heart beating wildly in your chest. There was a ringing in your ears too, that damned type of ringing that appears when the world is too quiet.

The run to your house felt awfully longer than the walk you had taken that morning, and once you finally arrived your brain was working too fast, trying to focus on everything at once.

From afar the house had looked normal, but the door was open, the lock busted. Your heart had left your chest altogether and was then beating on your throat.

You walked in slowly, the speed you had taken on the run dead as you had stepped on the welcome mat. A voice came from the living room, so you went there first.

The wooden floor creaked with every step you took, and anticipation built in your chest. But there was no one there, only the TV on, broadcasting a Mexican novela.

With every second you gained speed as you ran all the way to the bedroom you were staying in, the one Shadow had taken as his own while he healed.

The bed was neatly done and everything was on place, except the window, which was wide open

"SHADOW! SHADOW WERE ARE YOU?!" you screamed through the window, looking for signs of him on the backyard.

Something warm dripped onto your hand, and, as you touched your face trying to figure out were the liquid had came from, you felt traces of tears painting your cheeks.

You kept calling out his name as you searched around the house, your voice growing weaker and more broken as you didn't find him.

Finally you reached the living room once again, and you collapsed on the couch. You tried to hold your hands together so that they wouldn't shake.

A creak sounded from the window behind you; you turned around.

There he was standing, looking straight at your eyes with his usual frown. He exchanged looks with you for a few seconds and when you finally moved he was too confused as to move.

You jumped over the couch and hugged him. The hard floor digged onto your knees and your body felt tired, but he was alright which was what mattered.

"Where where you?" You questioned him.

"A woman came by, I did what you told me, I hid". His frown looked almost concerned then, as if he was worried he had done something wrong.

"Yes, you did well" You laughed and broke the hug, choosing to keep your hands on his shoulders instead "Maybe a little too well".

"I'm..."

"The ultimate life form? Yeah, yeah, I know"

"No, I'm... Sorry, that I worried you" he stared at the ground.

You almost choked on a sob at his words.

"It's okay, I was just worried you were hurt, there's nothing to apologize for sweetie" you explained as you held his face in your hands.

What a twist your life had taken.

Taglist:@boogiemansbitch@vxllys@whoisgami@baby-bloos@sapphireravensworld@mothmanperson@4rm-the-mf-concrete@eliknowsnothing@pooplyface1423@kyouzki@moon-trash1507@shadowforlive

[mono-dot-jpeg]

focus and study - viktor

summary; in which viktor gives you a proper incentive to study hard and even helps you relieve some stress

genre/extra tags; small one shot, modern college au, smut, fluff, half baked smut, established relationship, this could be considered a prequel to my jayvik reader smut, viktor and reader were together first and jayce joined in not long after, OR jayce thought they were dating already and viktor reader thought too hard about the relationship, silly shit at the end, jayvik freak agenda, OOC viktor????, open ended

word count; 1.1k

[nsfw] [gender neutral reader]

[warnings; sex toys, dom! vik my beloved, written by a sex neutral asexual, orgasm denial/edging, overstimulation?, voyeurism?, implied dacryphyilia, degradation???, vik call you a slut, whore, dumbification?? idk how to spell that one how fitting, riding, slight oral, a small step up from mean viktor compared to my other fic]

a/n; umm... no notes. written in January, finished for valentines. this world will never give me viktor league for valentines. this is so half baked. im so sorry viktor nation.

studying was the worst. at least for you. you, who usually had a good sense of confidence when it came to your classes, felt like screaming into the void with every curse you knew.

nothing just seemed to be clicking in your mind. no matter how many times you went over it yourself, how you asked the teacher, how you asked some classmates. nothing worked.

but then viktor had this genius idea.

"hah... viktor.. i don't- i don't kn-know.." you gasped between words as you feel how sticky your lower half has become as you sat at your desk. you've never been more thankful to only afford a cheap chair because you just know that any leather seat would have you riding on it like it's viktor's own dick. "i don't know- the- the answer-! ngh!" your body trembles as the stupid hot red dildo stuck in you vibrated gently. it was enough to feel but not enough to satisfy. it wasn't even big enough to hit any good spots, too.

"dear.. you can do better than this. i don't date a dumb whore.. do i?" he said sitting on your bed as he fiddled and twisted with the setting on your vibrator. his smirk is subtle every time he gains a whine out of you when he turns the settings higher or lower.

you shook your head, intensely disagreeing with him as you try to hold back from touching yourself. "n-no.. i'm not dumb.." you whined into your hand that did nothing to cover your moans.

"we have 5 more questions, pretty. can you do them for me?" he asked. you can hear him stand up, and you see his figure at your vanity mirror as he approaches you. you can see how hard he is with his pants tightening by his dick. "i'd be very happy if i could give you a reward."

you look at your written notes, but everything seems to blur and mesh together. you shift in your seat, and the vibrator just grazes your sweet spot. you crumble and whine loudly at the absolute lack of satisfaction you just felt. so close but so far. you don't even realize you're crying.

"is my poor love too much of a dumb slut to handle some math assignments? you can't even think, right? you can't even answer my questions anymore.." he said, his hand resting on your cheek as he turns you to face him. "what will i ever do with you?" he turns the settings higher, leaving your legs twitching and shaking for more.

"v-viktor.. please.." you cried out. "i want- want you so b-badly.." you can't help your hand traveling down to your heated area to start touching yourself for any sense of satisfaction. but viktor stops you from doing too much.

"now, now, what did i say about touching yourself? i should teach you how to behave properly. i'd say i could fuck you stupid but that wouldn't be so right for this scenario, would it?"

you start getting desperate, your hands grip at his pants tugging at them and looking up at him with glazed eyes for a chance to have him in you. "v-vik- ah.. please.." your body is only turned to him now, your face covered in tears as the vibrator is only grazing and brushing at your sweet spot.

"my pretty dumb slut, is that what you are now?" he asked, holding your face by your chin. his thumb rubs at your tears. "you listen to me so well, and yet you can't even finish reviewing your notes as i told you to." he shook his head in feign disappointment before moving back to the bed. you follow him, your bodily fluids drip down your legs in a way that makes you feel so pathetic, but you don't even care at this point. you need him so bad.

"please- viktor- i want to- i want-" you can't even speak right. not when he's unbuckling his belt and unzipping his pants. you almost drool at the sight of him.

"you should be good enough to not cum until i tell you, yes?" you nodded eagerly at his words. "look at you, you're drooling over me." he commented, but most of your sense is thrown out the window as you start licking at his dick. your warm mouth starts to suck and hollow your cheeks as you blow him. you can see how much he enjoys it, but he stops you from doing too much. he grabs a condom to put on, and your body shivers in excitement.

you both move to a more comfortable position, resting fully on the bed rather than on the edge of it. he takes the vibrator out of you, leaving you whining from the emptiness. "no whining, dear." he said as he sat on the bed, pants tossed to the side, boxers somewhere on the floor, and his white button-up open and loose. "ride." he gives the one command, and you go for it. you keep it careful so as not to disturb his hurt leg too much.

you line yourself with his cock and slowly sink, moaning at him filling you so well. you start riding not long after once you get used to the feeling of him. but you're so close to cumming due to the vibrator simply torturing you earlier that your body shivers and shakes from you holding back. "let- let me cum, v-viktor!" you gasp between pumps. his hands on your hips guide the pace.

"you couldn't even answer 5 questions for your notes. are you sure you're not my dumb slut? you can't even think about anything but my cock, right now? nothing but my pretty whore."

"please, please, please!" you repeated, your eyes unfocused and blown out as your mind draws blanks. "wanna cum! please!"

"you're asking so nicely. perhaps you're not that dumb." he hummed. "you can cum now, dear." he purred before holding your face to his, to kiss you stupid. you instinctively respond to his kisses and the last thrust that hits your sweet spot, leaving you to moan his name out. "that wasn't a great plan, but we learned a lot, didn't we?" you would be mad at him for being so composed and calm this whole time if you weren't so fuzzy brained right now. he slowly guides you to pull out and tosses the condom in the nearby trash bin. you move slowly and lean down to finish him off.

"you don't have to do that, dear."

your response is muffled, and you don't even pull away. you refuse to leave your man unsatisfied, but his next words have you pausing, "jayce can do that for you. isn't that right, jayce?" you pause to look over at the door and see a heaving jayce with a hard rock cock stuffed in his pants and a guilty puppy look on his warm face.

[starsturni]

*ᯓ★ BF! MATT X PREGNANT! READER

analysis: after trying for a baby for months, the special moment finally comes.

warnings: cursing. fluff. small mentions of sex.

! NOT PROOFREAD !

wc: 1.3k!

it was in the early hours of the morning when i woke up. the soft rustles of sheets fully selling away my drowsiness as matt shifts in his sleep, looking peaceful as a restless night owl . i shift under my white heavy comforter, it smelling woodsy and warm. it screams matt.

in the morning light as the vibrant orange sun peeks in through the curtains, i turn away my head as it's bright rays dance upon my eyelids.

matt's hand finds it's way under my beige sweater, using his fingers to cascade across my waist, feeling all of my dips and curves. a smile finds its way onto my lips, a small noise of approval falls from them as his hands settle on my lower thigh.

"good morning." he grumbles tiredly, his face buried into the crook of my shoulder, breath tickling my neck. a smile coats my tone, full of happiness that you could only experience when you realize how it feels to wake up with someone you want to spend the rest of your life with.

"good morning to you. how long you up for?" i say, gazing off into his clear, cloudy blue eyes. his hands trail up to my shoulders, his fingers grazing every inch of my skin that he could find uncovered.

"not too long.. was thinkin' about last night." a small light pink blush coats my cheeks, the thought of the relentless night before had my heart pounding. the night previous was - eventful, you could say. the sound of the bed groaning repeatedly as matt bucked his hips into mine, desperate and needy for a sort of relief to get the baby we've dreamed of having ever since we started thinking seriously about what we wanted in our relationship.

"yeah, and my legs still ache." a playful smile becomes visible on my lips, as matt's expression is more of a proud one. "y'know, the more we try.." matt trails off as his lips start peppering light kisses along my collarbone and neck. "the more likely.." he states, in-between kisses. "you'll wake up with my baby inside you."

my face reddens, tucking my face into the pillow as an attempt to escape his dirty thoughts. "matt.." i can feel the smirk on his lips as they trail up to the tip of my earlobe, gently nibbling to get a reaction out of me. "what?" he lightly chuckles, acting like he doesn't know what he's doing to me.

i shift in bed, turning around so i can completely face matt. "i'm gonna go to the bathroom and take a test." he pouts slightly, wanting to sleep in. "y'know you can take the test later, right?"

i playfully groan at his whining, a small grin covering my once neutral expression. "i could do it in a month, but i'd like to know now." i leave matt with a small kiss to his cheek, a small amount of stubble still left over from his last shaving session.

he nods, a smile appearing as he watches me stand up and walk out of our shared room, watching the way my nightgown slightly rides up, exposing a little more than just my thighs in admiration. "okay, i'm gonna get up and make breakfast." he calls out, letting out a groan as he stretches.

i make my way down the hallway, crossing my arms under my chest as the cold air from the air conditioner hits me. i walk across the living room to get the packages off of the counter, but not without greeting trevor and pouring a generous amount (maybe even a little too much,) of food in his bowl.

i grab the plastic bag, my feet padding against the chilly hardwood floor as my heart skips beats, in the anticipation of what the test will say. i gently knock my fist against the bathroom door, and when silence returns, i open the door and step in.

i take a reassuring deep breath, trying to calm my nerves from freaking me out. i reach into the plastic bag, grabbing the box and reading the package’s cover.

it reads ‘pregnancy tests’ in big, bold and pink letters. the nerves start to really crash down on my mind as i think about all of the possibilities that come with the aftermath of the test, the thought of those two lines appearing have me shaking.

my anxious feelings start to slowly dissipate as i hear matt emerging from our bedroom, heading to the kitchen to make us food. i hear the sound of his footsteps come to a stop as he lands in-front of the bathroom door, a shadow casting from under the door.

“hey hun, if you need something just call out for me, okay?” he speaks through the door, granting me my privacy. i nod, knowing that he can’t see me. “yeah, i-i will babe.” matt can sense my nervous energy that radiates throughout my tone, and outside the door.

“y/n it’s okay hun. i know it’s a little scary, but we both wanted this, right? we will get through this together. you have me right at your side, alright?”

his caring tone soothes me and has me thinking not so much about the bad things that could come with having a child, but the good things. the memories we could create and cherish as a family. that’s what we wanted.

"y-you're right, yeah, i-i got this." matt lets out a quiet sigh of relief. "yes you do sweetheart. i know you're brave. do you want me to come in with you?" matt asks me in a sweet tone, in order to calm me. "no, i-i got this." i say back, the nervousness dissolving from my brain. i turn my back to the door once i hear matt's footsteps reside to the kitchen. i open the box, my hands shaking lightly as i pick up a test.

7 minutes later...

as the tests lines start to slowly fade in after the recommended time, i take deep breaths, the prospect of having a family fully sets in, and is eating away at my uneasy mindset.

the timer on my phone goes off, the beeping a ringing sensation in my ears.

beep! beep! beep!

i pick up my phone off of the marble counter, shutting of the alarm. i close my eyes, tears already welling up, as my fear starts to come back. i flip over the test.

two, dark red lines show back at me.

positive.

i'm pregnant.

i let out a scream of overall shock and happiness, hearing a cooking utensil drop onto the floor in the kitchen, footsteps rushing to the bathroom. matt's booming voice follows. "what?! what's wrong! are you okay?" the door swings open with no hesitation, his eyes scanning the entire room, making sure no active threat is happening.

"i-i'm pregnant!!" i squeal, tears flooding my eyes, pouring down my cheeks. matt's eyes widen, a smile of his own growing impossibly fast on his face. "what! y-you are?" he looks down at the counter, his eyes finding the positive test lying in the sink.

"oh my god, shit, you- what, you're pregnant!!" he crouches down, picking me up by my hips, excitedly spinning me around, almost nearly knocking my head against our ceiling. "we're pregnant, we're pregnant, we're pregnant!" he cheers to himself.

he sets me back onto the floor as his shock dies down, still excited as ever. the thought of him being able to say to all of his family members, friends, whoever, that he is a proud dad.

i tightly hug matt, my arms wrapping around his neck, inhaling his scent as happy tears stream down my face, the overwhelming moment of pure happiness was a feeling that was never foreign around matt. his arms wrap tightly around my waist, but only slightly loosen at the thought of now there's a mini matt inside of me.

as the moment really seeps in, it's broken as my nose picks up the scent of burning, which trails from our kitchen. my face scrunches up at the foul smell. "is something in the oven?"

matt's eyes widen with realization and remembrance as he scrambles out of the bathroom, sprinting to the kitchen. "the cinnamon rolls!"

don't mind my break! but i've literally thought about this all week..LMAO

currently tagging! :

@arotzsturns @suyqa @aria3sposts @user101624 @craftycrafter26 @oakley298 @secretbowty @gwennybenny @drlsmiths @strnxzara2 @lillianlovesmatt @sofsturnz689 @wonyyoung @magicalfloweranchor @kyliebabe @avamerrill @h3arts4harry @songstonone @st7n1olo @ivysturnss @literallyjustrue @kitty-kats-54 @hannahsturns @slytherin-princess-x @emosexyvirgin @leeeeree @christmastreecake @graciebrams @aokay1 @pookiewookie0513 @nateismybf @goingtojohnkramershouseee @stvrnmc @chrissturniolodailysluts @gn-4315 @strangelysamantha @sweetrunawaycreation @etherealval @chris-slut @ariiijestertheklown @mattsturnioloarchive @stvrnzwrld @courta13 @sophand4n4 @chrissweetheart @annsx03 @heartsonlyforchris @emely9274