#i want to hold her hand too.....😢

[angelkeitai]

did i show you guys this picture of lou !!! i really like this one because of her smile

[eebie]

BEAUTIFUL WOMAN!!! WILL SHE KISS ME🐸🐸🐸🐸🐸🐸WILL WE FALL IN LOVE!

[beloveds-embrace]

can we get Duchess reader yearning for a baby of her own 🥺 imagine there was a Ball in the neighboring kingdom and Duchess!Reader and Duke!Price was invited, celebrating the birth of the Kingdom’s new heir, a baby boy on her fellow Duchess’s arms.

And reader coos at the baby while masking the deep ache in her heart thinking that it’ll be so impossible to have a baby with her husband due to him and his lovers 😢

cue to Duchess!Reader having a heavy heart through out the entire event and even the days after that, until one of our boys asks her what wrong.

(And John having to hold Johnny back bc that nasty dog has been waiting to get his paws on her since forever)

Oh my god yes??? Anon i could smooch your brain right now yes??? This is so good i love it. Sorry for the abrupt ending though, had no idea how to finish it off 😔

Original Post

“Such an adorable little one,” you coo softly, the newborn held delicately and carefully in your arms, swaddled in the baby blue blankets you and John had bought among your other gifts for your fellow Duke and Duchess. “He looks so much like you, I’m in awe.”

Your friend laughs lightly, sipping on her drink. With a soft sigh, she leans closer towards you. The party is in full swing, so many other nobles mingling and networking, but thankfully you and your friend have your own little corner for now and everyone has already congratulated her and her husband.

“So,” she begins, her eyes flickering towards where both of you two’s husbands are speaking. The smiles on their faces are clearly happy, though you aren’t surprised; John had mentioned that he’s already friends with the Duke during the carriage ride. “So. What about you and Duke Price, hm? Any surprises we should prepare for?”

Ah. You had been dreading this.

You sigh, shaking your head. Though the smile returns as you gaze at the napping baby, so small and precious in your arms. With you friend’s permission, you gently kiss his tiny little fists. “Not at all. We are happy as we are.”

And it’s not as if you are lying by any means, oh no. You are happy. Life as Duchess was far, far much better than you had expected it’d be, a lot less restrictive than you had prepared for it to be.

But…

You can’t lie to yourself. You’ve been feeling a sense of discontent from the very second you stepped into the gala venue. Perhaps for even longer, though it hadn’t been especially felt until this moment. Not until you held this baby in your arms.

You want a baby, too, you had realized. Motherhood. A child all yours, calling you momma and toddling into your arms. You had been unable to stop yourself from feeling the little bud of jealousy towards your friend, because you knew you’d likely never experience such a thing due to your unique situation.

John has his own partners whom he loves. You weren’t among that list, and you didn’t particularly enjoy the idea of having sex with another man with the potential risk of your parents, or anyone else, asking for a paternity test because you know someone would ask. Your mother, probably; she was always warning you not to whore yourself out, and your father didn’t even need to say anything-

“My dear?”

John’s concerned voice pulls you out of your thoughts, his hand gentle on your elbow, and it’s only then you realize you had been staring down at the baby with such sadness, so not befitting of such a beautiful gala. So you shake your head, clearing your thoughts, and turn to him and your friend's husband.

When the baby squirms, you coo softly and hand him back to your friends, gentle and careful. That's when you turn to John, giving him a simple smile. "Yes, Your Grace?"

The worry remains on his face, less visible however, and his eyes look over you carefully. Your friends are too busy with their son and showing him off to care about what you two are saying in the corner he’s led you to. "Are you alright?”

As if you’d ever tell him what the issue is. You don’t want to make John feel pressured into this, of all things. You’d rather be divorced than do so, and that should speak volumes on its own.

It’s a silly want, anyways. You have everything you could possible need right now, married and stable. You aren’t about to ruin it with your own two hands.

So you nod your head, and brush away all thoughts of a little baby cradled in your arms. “Yes, I am. I was just lost in thought. Shall we return to the party?”

John observes you for a few seconds more, and then he sighs and nods. “Very well. Would you do me the honor of this dance, my dear Duchess?”

Between the dazzling lights and John’s arms, you can almost forget the lingering desire.

But over the next few days after the gala, it becomes clear to John- to all your the men that something is terribly bothering you. There is a lingering sadness around you so profound even your maids have sensed it, wondering if perhaps you and the Duke have finally had your first fight… but he looks even more more worried and confused than them. You weren’t mad at anyone, that much he could tell, but he didn’t understand the heartache plaguing you.

“…are you sick, my lady?” Kyle asks you one day, placing down a tray of fresh desserts. Your favorites, all made by Johnny himself, yet you barely flick a look towards it.

“Not at all. Thank you, Kyle, but I’m afraid I can’t eat anything at the moment.” Your reply is soft, patient, as it always is, but the furrow in your brows remain and your frown deepens. Kyle hates it. He hates it so, so much. You’ve even stopped taking your usual break-walks, staying inside your room and asking for nothing in particular.

“My lady,” he presses on, voice softer. Comes to stand close to you, and holds his elbow out. “Maybe a walk, then? You look tired. Some sun might do you good- or a picnic? I can pack the desserts and-”

You avoid his eyes and look away, shaking your head. “Thank you, but my answer’s the same, Kyle. I’d just… like to be left alone, please. Could I trouble you to also inform John I won’t be joining him for dinner tonight?”

You are simply glad you managed to hide the little paper you’d been writing on before he came in. Baby names, for the babies you’d never have. It certainly didn’t help make your mood better, but you couldn’t help yourself. Looking at John, or any of them, also made you feel guilty anew.

“…not a problem, my lady. I’ll leave the desserts here for you just in case.”

Several days later, it’s Johnny who comes to you. You are alone in the conservatory, trying hard to get over this stupid, lingering feeling. It’s silly, you know it is, but… ugh.

Johnny says nothing even when you call his name out with a questioning tone, and much to your shock, he kneels down to take your hands in his. It’s so wholly inappropriate, and you look around in fear of anyone seeing.

“No one’s around, m’lady,” Johnny shakes his head, not letting your hands go yet.

“Johnny-“

“No one’s around.” He repeats, firmly, and his eyes gaze at you. “M’lady. Have we made ye angry? Has anyone made you upset? Is my food not to your liking?”

“Johnny…” you sigh, shaking your head. Inwardly, you scold yourself for bothering everyone like this. This should have been your issue alone to solve and hide. “No, no. Nothing like that. I just need some time alone, in general.”

“But why-“

“No particular reason.” You quickly cut him off, gently pulling your hands away. “Please, Johnny. I’ll get better soon, promise. But I just… need time.”

But the desire, the longing, still remains. You can’t even confide in anyone, so you also feel painfully lonely on top of everything else. John is still searching, still trying to find what or who’s made you like this, but not even your closest maids are of help.

Still, while you wished to wallow your misery away in your rooms and office, you didn’t have much choice when you’d received an invitation to the opera troupe funded by the Price duchy; making an appearance was a must, and unfortunately John had a very important meeting that day so Simon is the one to accompany you.

“You’ve been sad lately.” Simon doesn’t beat around the bush, all the lights focused on the stage so you are both draped in shadows, hidden from sight.

You turn to him, a refusal on your lips already-

“No.” He shakes his head. “You aren’t just tired, Duchess. You are sad. Everyone can see it, and it’s making us worried. All of us.” He adds, not letting you latch onto your usual excuse. Performance ignored, his entire attention is on you.

And you are just- too tired. Ashamed of yourself, you sigh.

“It’s awful of me…” your whisper, bottom lip quivering. “I-… I want a baby, Simon.” You admit, so softly and quietly you don’t look at his reaction to see if he’d even heard you in the first place. You shouldn’t be telling him of all people your issues, but- you can’t help yourself. “A child. I want to experience motherhood, but- I don’t, I refuse to put such a burden on John, or get in the way between all of you again-“

You ramble on, not meeting his eyes. Your hands are tembling around the mask you’d taken off, holding it in your lap.

Simon?

Simon can’t take his eyes off your stomach. You. You, pregnant; swollen and glowing with a child. Maybe children, even. Their children. His. He can’t believe this is what has had you so upset for so long; did you think they- John- would say no to you?

“Darling, ” The nickname slips out; he couldn’t help himself. He is glad the no one is paying attention to them, in the higher rows. Simon laces your pinkies together, raising your hand to kiss your knuckles, silencing your worried rambling. “Darling. Let us return home. Staying here isn’t doing you any good. Tonight, I want you to let Kyle spoil you with a warm bath, and for you to eat and then sleep. Rest. Tomorrow, we’ll speak. I’ll inform the troupe leader you weren’t feeling too well.”

“I- I… speak about what? What?”

Simon simply ushers you out, to the awaiting carriage. He doesn’t answer any of your questions, even when you pout and the it makes your lipstick glisten to prettily, though if you can feel that his hands are inappropriately tight around your waist, you simply blame it on your tightened corset.

At home, you are still confused. Simon is acting off, staring at you with a look that makes you all flustered, but you don’t protest when Kyle gently leads you away.

You’ll get your answers tomorrow, you are sure. But in the meantime…

“She wants a baby, John,” Simon groans, repeating the words again. His jacket is thrown off to the side, sleeves rolled up his elbows. Even from here, he can see how John eyes them appreciatively. “A baby, John. Seeing her pregnant-“

Another groan, but the one comes from between John’s thighs. Johnny, hands tied behind his back with Simon’s belt because the second he found out what the issue he was so, so ready to go and beg you to let him fix it. A bairn is what you want, a bairn is what he’ll give you- chunky, adorable, and hopefully looking like you.

John had to hold him back, though. He wants nothing more than to do the same, kiss you breathless and promise he’ll give you as many as you want, but he also knows you need a clear, rested head before he speaks with you.

The thought of seeing your pregnant, though, has his fist tightening in Johnny’s hair.

“I know. Fuck, I know, Si. Tomorrow, I’ll speak to her.”

[virq-qgo]

hii babe im just begging for a rough tag team with wolverine nd deadpool

I’m so sorry, I just saw this 😢 I’m a working woman, gotta make my money and spend it all at Adam and Eves. Anyways.. I hope this is good for you bookie, I put only my brain and boobs into it 😘

Request are still opened ❤️

Warnings: smut, my writing, obvi not proof read because I’m not all that.. female bodied.

If anyone had told you a few minutes ago that you would be on your back, getting absolutely cocked out by Logan. And having your mouth filled of it by wade. You would have laughed in their face. Because you are no man’s slut.

But here you are, laying on wades bed. Logan’s cock so full inside of you. His hips thrusting so hard against yours. Your poor pretty hips bruise.

It’s not like you can complain though, after all, wade is fucking your throat. But why would you complain? Getting absolutely dicked down by the two men you’ve had the hots for awhile is a dream come true, really it would be any girls dream.

Muffled moans attempted to escape your filled lips as your sore legs tighten around Logan’s waist. You were finally going to cum, after forever of torture. You finally get your reward.

Your eyes pooled with tears as you feel that little something snap in you, as you stupidly thought that this was your moment. That was until it was brutally ripped away from you.

Logan looks at you with a satisfied yet sadistic expression. “Aw, poor girl, finally thought she was about to come.” In a flash of the moment, you were flipped to your stomach. And Logan’s rough hands grab at your plush hips. Slamming himself back into you. “Too bad that bad girls don’t get to cum.”

A cry escape your lips as you feel Logan slam back into you. Your face is burrowed into the sheets of the bed as the pace Logan was brutally fucking you was putting holes in the walls from the bed.

You were too busy whining to notice that wade and Logan were bickering back and forth.

“My turn wolvie, I want to fuck my pretty slut next.” Wade pressed, his scared hands running down her body. “We’re switching places.”

Logan didn’t like this idea, knowing that wade would give in and let you cum. You were getting punished, you didn’t get to cum. “You’re not getting your dick wet, it’s my pussy that I’m fucking.”

Wade did not like this response, he pulled Logan away. Feeling so incredibly horny once he heard you whine at the feeling of being so empty. “Don’t worry princess, I’ll be filling this pussy up so nice for you. The only thing you’ll be remembering is how good my cock is.”

Wade gave you no time to think as he thrusted into your abused hole. One hand on your hips, the other wrapped around your front, playing with your sensitive clit.

“You’ve been my good girl, must be because I’m better. But I want that pretty pussy to milk my dick.” He praises.

Wade teased, crescent marks are left in your hips from how hard Wade squeezed your hips. Moans fall from his lips as he felt your sweet hole squeeze his cock. He couldn’t hold himself back, Wade pressed your body down into the bed. Fucking you at an incredible pace, hitting all of your deep spots.

Logan watches the both of you, his cock so unbelievably hard, it hurt. His tip was aching and wet. He was turned on to the extreme, watching you moan like a damn porn star because of how good Wade is fucking you. It almost made him jealous.

He watches how Wade thrust faster than he has before, and watches how you try to claw at anything you can reach. Logan couldn’t help but find his cock with his hand. He wasn’t mad that you came around wades cock, or how the way your pussy clenched around nothing while his hot load was dripping out of you and down your thighs. Logan was so totally jealous, wanting it to be your pussy milking him instead of his own hand. Wanted it to be his load dripping out of you.

Finally, he had enough. Logan stood back up, pushing Wade to the side. “I hope you aren’t tired buba, because we only have just gotten started.”

[jo-com]

Can u do a poly fic with Charles leclerc and Alexander where reader is a singer like taylor swift and does the vigilante shit perform with the chair u know... And they r watching and they had no idea reader was going to do that and they go faral pretty plzz🙏🙏

⊹₊ ⋆ᝰ.ᐟִ ࣪🎀 ➛ Feral

Charles Leclerc x Fem!singer x Alexandra Saint Mieux

Summary: Based of the request☝🏻

Genre: Fluff, established relationship, suggestive content, Poly and a little bit of SMAU

Fc: Taylor swift

Note: there are some grammatical errors and this is not proofread also sorry for taking this long to answer this, was finishing some of my other works and got busy🥹 Hope u enjoyed this though!

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ➛ My Masterlist

─────── ─ ⋆౨ৎ˚🩰⟡˖ ࣪─ ───────

Everybody screamed with their hearts content— their eyes blazed with excitement and adoration. It was an honor to finally get to watch you perform in their hometown; their screams of joy is evident that they are enjoying every moment of the show.

Amongst them is your two no.1 supporters. Alex and Charles.

They looked at you from below the VIP seats with awe. Their hearts filled with pride as you go on doing what you love. “c'est notre fille (that’s our girl)” Alex yelled, her voice mixing with the other sound that surrounded the stage.

“She’s so pretty up there, I can’t wait to see her later” Charles squealed— acting as if he were a 12 year old girl that was gushing over their idol.

Alex smiled widely from ear to ear at her boyfriend; loving the supportive behavior his putting out.

As you were singing and feeling every beat, you can’t help but wander your eyes below— feeling butterflies as you saw your lovers holding hand in hand and screaming at the top of their lungs. Showing their love and affection towards you.

Unbeknownst to them, you we’re going to pull something that you haven’t told them or anyone yet. It was something you’ve practiced for hours and was now finally ready to be seen by everyone watching.

➛ (imagine this was you)

Video not mine, creds to the owner;)

Everyone roared with joy as you did your performance— their screams filled with nothing but endless praise.

Their hearts beating from adrenaline and their minds can’t wrap around the fact that you just did a splendid and eye catching choreography. The way you swayed your hips just put them in a trance and just got them jumping up and down with glee.

While everyone was busy yelling and adoring you. Charles and Alex stared blankly at you—Their jaws still dropped from your sudden performance. They didn’t know that you would do such thing or was even capable to look sexy and hot at the same time.

…

Charles_Leclerc

Liked by Alexandrasaintmieux, Landonorris, ScuderiaFerrari and 2,379,120 others

Charles_leclerc WHEN I TELL U THAT I CAME IN MY PANTS (I am not joking)

Tagged; @yn.core

View all comments

ScuderiaFerrari excuse me??🤨

Username1 CHARLES WHAT

Username2 honestly would have the same reaction

Username3 Y/N IS SO PRETYYYY

Alexandrasaintmieux on my knees for her

Alexandrasaintmieux would eat her right up

Charles_leclerc ughh same😫😫

Username4 what is going on with these two

Alexandrasaintmieux the chair is so lucky

Charles_Leclerc would want to be the chair rn🙁🙁

Alexandrasaintmieux same😢

Landonorris Calm down you two, damn

Carlossainz55 wtf

Username5 same reaction dude

Yn.core too much my loves😅

Charles_leclerc can’t help that you’re too irresistible

Alexandrasaintmieux yesyesyes

Alexandrasaintmieux (me screaming that with you)

Username6 ALEX???🥹

Username7 ADMIN HELP

…

Alexandrasaintmieux

Liked by Charles_Leclerc, Yn.core, f1 and 5,790,267 others

Alexandrasaintmieux my mind 24/7

Tagged; @yn.core

View all comments

Charles_leclerc SAME SAME

ScuderiaFerrari uhm no.

Username8 GIRL U TOO???😭😭

Username9 the support is too much

Username10 this is way worse than charles

Charles_leclerc would let her dominate me tbh

Yn.core ???

Alexandrasaintmieux me 2🤭🤭

Yn.core 🤦‍♀️🤦‍♀️🤦‍♀️

Landonorris welcome to the club

Carlossainz55 they honestly need help

Charles_leclerc WOULD LET HER WRAP HER THIGHS AROUND MY NECK AND CHOKE ME

Charles_leclerc she just makes me convulsed with just by talking

ScuderiaFerrari meeting now.

Carlossainz55 should i be scared??

Alexandrasaintmieux charles should be🤣

Username11 THE COMMENT SEC IS SO CHAOTIC😭😭

Username12 i js wanted to see loving comments🥲

Username13 you came to the wrong acc mate

…

Sorry I haven’t been updating, i was having a writers block and i hope you like this💞

[rapz-rites]

They All Know Now

That Batfam finds out Damian has a gf, but not from Damian

A/N: just randomly had this idea. Mostly a group chat between the Batfam reacting the finding out Damian has a boo thang

Enjoy 😊

Word Count: 850+

Warning: Cursing, Dick being a drama queen, Tim doubting Damian’s rizz

Damian hadn’t expected for people to find out, especially not like this

Why can’t people just mind their own business 

This whole thing was stupid

You and Damian went out to this small fair just outside of Gotham for a date

You thought it would be unnecessary to wear disguises

You wanted a normal date without disguises and paparazzi

But you were wrong

You guys were having a nice time, walking and holding hands, sharing some cotton candy 

Unfortunately, someone from Gotham Academy was there too

They took a picture and somehow media outlets got it

It was going viral

The headlines ranged from “Damian Wanye Mystery Girl” to “Who is this girl? Lover or Gold Digger”

A few months ago, you and Damian got matching promise ring

One news outlet mistook them for wedding rings

“Nothing like his billionaire father, Damian Wayne is locked in”

When you showed Damian the headlines

You found them hilarious 

Damian didn’t

Not even 10 minutes after you showed him the first headline the ‘BatChat’ group chat

Made by none other than Dick Grayson

BATCHAT 🦇

GRAYSON: Attachment: 5 images 2 videos

                   WHAT IS THIS?

                   DAMIAANNNNN!!!!!

DAMIAN : What do you want?

                 I’m busy.

CASS : Are you with Y/N?

DAMIAN : Yes.

GRAYSON : Is that why you’ve been disappearing lately??

TODD : Wow….

            The demon spawn got a girlfriend

            I thought Raven was going to be the one and only

DRAKE : Wait…

  Damian really has a girlfriend???

DUKE : Haven’t you been keeping up

DRAKE : No really…

I’m busy ok

STEPH : Are we going to ignore the fact that Cass knew and didn’t tell us

GRAYSON : Yea Cass

                    Why didn’t you tell us???

CASS : Not my secret to tell

DAMIAN : That's why she was allowed to know

CASS : Bruce knew too

GRAYSON : I feel betrayed

                    Why didn’t you tell me?

                   🥲.

DUKE : I wonder why

            🙄.

GRAYSON : Don't sass me rn Duke

DAMIAN : Cass, Y/N wants to know if you’re going on patrol on Friday.

TODD : SHE KNOWS?!!?!?!

            Does Bruce know she knows?

GRAYSON : OF COURSE HE KNOWS

                 Its Bruce

CASS : I’m not.

            Why?

DAMIAN : She says “we need to finish the movie from our sleepover”

STEPH : YOU TWO HAD A SLEEPOVER WITHOUT ME

DUKE : What was the movie?

TODD : Really Duke?

           That’s what you want to know

DUKE : Yes… leave me alone

DAMIAN : I don’t know.

DUKE : Can you ask please 🙏🏾 

DAMIAN : She said they finished Salt, with Angelina Jolie and are now on Mr and Mrs Smith

CASS : Ask her if we’re going to watch Megan Fox movies after.

DUKE : Angelina Jolie…

        Megan fox…

        Can I PLEASE join 🙏🏾 🙏🏾 🙏🏾 

DAMIAN : I’m not a walkie-talkie.

           Text her yourself.

DUKE : Fine

         I don’t have her number

CASS : …

DAMIAN : I was talking to Cass

STEPH : Uhm….

              What about me?!?!?!

GRAYSON: Steph plz

                   Damian has been ignoring me this entire time

                  😢.

                  Can we meet her????

DAMIAN : No.

CASS: Y/N says she would love to meet you but only if “Dami” is comfortable with it

GRAYSON : SHE GETS TO GIVE YOU A NICKNAME BUT NOT ME

                     Everytime I try to give you one you reject it

DRAKE : Dami?

               Who’s Dami

TODD : Damian

             Duhhh

DRAKE : I'm running of 2 hours of sleep and 8 cups of coffee

              🖕🏾.

TODD : 😂

Suddenly everyone got an incoming call

--Incoming Facetime Call: Damian--

Once everyone joined the group facetime they all noticed a girl sitting next to Damian

They couldn’t lie

You were gorgeous 

You looked like the girl that wasn’t overly popular but everyone liked

Basically a Disney princess

But you didn’t look like Damian’s usual type

Raven or his past fling, Flatline

You were probably the reason he slowly started incorporating color in his wardrobe 

I mean it was just dark colors but it was colors nonetheless

You finally spoke up and the conversation rolled on from there

Y/N : Hi everyone! I’m Y/N! 

         It's so nice to meet the rest of you.

Grayson : Hi! Im Dick. Damian’s handsome oldest brother.

TODD : I’m Jason Todd. The cooler, even more handsome big bro.

DRAKE : Uh hi. Tim.

Everyone else started to introduce themselves 

DAMIAN: Hurry up and ask what you need, we’re extremely busy. 

Y/N : Damian, be nice. Feel free to ask me anything

After a brief moment of silence they all started talking at one

“See what I mean” Damian whispered in your ear 

You rolled your eyes at him and spoke up

Y/N : One question at a time please

DRAKE : Is Damian paying you to act like his girlfriend? Did he have to bribe you?

For the next hour, you were answering questions and they were getting to know you

They like how you balanced Damian out

You chilled him out

Normally Damian would have been tearing their heads off, but you were calmed him before he could even react

They like seeing Damian happy

He was calmer at home

Even smiling

Actually it was a small lip smirk but they counted it

Damian was happy

Especially with you

They could tell by the way he would look at you when you talked

With so much love

I had this for a while but I finally posted it. When I pasted it from my google docs I was shocked cuz all the colors and formatting was basically gone and I had to redo them. Sadly they didn’t have the colors i wanted so Cass Duke and Tim are normal but I might give Tim orange or something 🤷🏾‍♀️

[kingofbodyrolls]

Friendcation (m) | myg | pregnancy special

you and Yoongi try to get pregnant, but it doesn’t go as planned, as the road isn’t easy. But he’s your rock, and he’ll stand with you through thick and thin 💜

→ Pairing: mechanic!Yoongi x reader (female) → AUs: established relationship, mechanic!Yoongi, married!au, pregnancy!au → Genres: slice of life, humor/crack, smut and fluff → Rating: mature/explicit/R18 (this is mature/explicit content, so minors, please do not interact.) → Word count: 7.5k → Warnings (general) + triggers: mentions of blood because of SPOILER a miscarriage (there’s blood but know more detail than that), angst, anxiety/fear for the future and for a miscarriage again, pregnancy, raging hormones, drinking sorrows away, getting angry without course, yelling without course, OC is being rather destructive in this one but Yoongi is very sweet, understanding and supportive 👏 → Warnings (explicit): unprotected sex (is this really a surprise? But please don’t be stupid irl, though they aren’t stupid here ‘cuz they’re actively trying for a baby); oral (female and male receiving), doggystyle over a table 😝, spanks, creampie, cockwarming, kisses (yes that is a warning because it’s sugary sweet 😘), multiple orgasms → Author’s note: hiya all you lovely people! I’m back at it again with another extra for friendcation and let me tell you, even though this is very angsty, I loved writing it a lot. I drew from my own experience (miscarriages), but I didn’t want to go into too much detail, so it’s very light. But it does affect OC and her mood, like she almost gets depressed over it 😢 But Yoongi is there to pick her up and support her, so don’t worry! It’s a sweet one, and of course it has a happy ending, because you know what’s gonna happen in the winter special that I wrote a long time ago! I hope you love it as much as I did! This one was honestly so fast for me to write, like a few hours! It’s so much easier for me when I write from my own personal experience. And if you’ve ever had a miscarriage, I want to give you a hug, and please know that you’re not alone, okay? 🫂 (author’s note2: I wrote this story in the beginning of August 2024) → Read on AO3? [link] ✨

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��There are two lines!” you cry out, bursting into the living room with a pregnancy test clutched in your trembling hand. You twirl it in the air like a magic wand, watching the realization spread across your husband’s face, his eyes lighting up with a mixture of joy and wonder. He moves toward you, a smile breaking across his lips, and in one swift motion, he wraps you in his arms, pulling you close as he plants a tender kiss on your cheek.

“Are you really pregnant?” he murmurs, his voice soft yet trembling with excitement and a touch of fear. You hear the uncertainty beneath his joy, the way hope and anxiety dance together in his words. You’ve both dreamed of this moment, talked about it late into the night, imagining the tiny life you would create together. Ever since your honeymoon, where every whispered wish was laced with the hope of creating a new life, this has been your shared dream. And now, it’s real. The weight of it hits you all at once, and tears well up in your eyes, spilling over as the emotions of the moment overwhelm you.

He kisses you again, this time with more intensity. “I can’t wait to have a baby with you,” he whispers against your skin.

Neither can you. The joy is too immense to contain, so you schedule a doctor’s appointment, needing to hear it confirmed, to know for certain that your dream is taking root inside you. Yoongi is right there beside you, holding your hand as the doctor measures your HCG levels via a blood test and tells you the news you’ve been waiting for—you’re pregnant, and not just newly so. Eight weeks have already passed, and suddenly, the idea of this tiny life feels even more real.

Giddy with excitement, the two of you start to dream out loud, envisioning a life that needs more space to grow. The apartment where you built your love, small and cozy as it is, now feels too cramped for the family you want to become. You’ve always talked about raising your children just outside the city, where the air is cleaner, and the pace of life slower, where a bigger house awaits with room enough for your growing dreams. Yoongi smiles at the thought of a garage, where he can create and tinker, a space of his own.

You start house hunting in the suburbs surrounding Seoul, imagining nurseries painted in soft pastels, browsing baby clothes with tiny sleeves, and laughing over the choices. Each step feels like a dream in the making, a life slowly unfolding before you, full of promise and possibility.

But today has been long, and your body is weary. The excitement has worn you down, and as you return home, you kick off your shoes with a sigh, feeling the ache in your swollen feet. You glance around, hoping to hear the familiar sounds of your husband’s return, but the apartment is quiet. You open the fridge and pull out a cold bottle of water, hoping it will soothe your frayed nerves. The stress of your marketing job clings to you like a shadow, and all you want is a moment to unwind, to let go of the day’s tension.

As you set the bottle down on the counter, a sudden, sharp pain radiates through your stomach. Your hand instinctively flies to your belly, and you double over, gasping as the pain intensifies. It’s not normal, you think, panic rising in your chest. Something is wrong.

When you look down at the floor, a wave of horror crashes over you. 

Blood. 

Dark, vivid, and far too much of it. It’s pooling beneath you, seeping through your clothes, and it’s only then that you fully realize how soaked you are. 

Terror grips you, squeezing your chest, making it hard to breathe. Tears well up in your eyes, your breath comes in ragged gasps as panic begins to set in. This can’t be happening—this much blood, it’s not normal, not now, not when you’re carrying life inside you. A flood of thoughts races through your mind: is the baby inside you still safe? Or is this the cruel end to a dream that had only just begun? 

You need Yoongi—his steady presence, his strong arms, his comforting words—but he’s not here.

With trembling hands, you fumble for your phone, digging it out of your skirt pocket, and desperately pull up your husband’s contact. The phone barely rings before the door to your apartment creaks open, and there he is, stepping inside. Relief mixes with fear as he rushes to you, his eyes widening in shock as he takes in the scene—the blood, your trembling form, the tears streaming down your face.

Without a word, he’s at your side, his arms wrapping around you, pulling you close. His fingers, rough from years of work, trace gentle, soothing circles on your back, trying to calm the storm inside you.

“What happened?” he asks, trying to keep his voice steady, but you can hear the tremor beneath his words, the fear that he’s trying so hard to mask. His breath comes quicker, and though he tries to be strong for you, you can see the terror in his eyes, mirroring your own.

“Out of nowhere, the pain started,” you sob, clutching at your stomach, “and then the bleeding... so much blood.” Your voice breaks as the pain flares again, sharp and unforgiving.

Yoongi pulls you to your feet, his grip firm but tender, “We need to get you to the doctor’s. Now.” His words are clipped, urgent, but his touch is all comfort as he guides you out of the apartment, into the elevator, and finally into the car. The drive is shrouded in a thick, suffocating silence, broken only by your muffled sobs. The fear that’s lodged in your throat is too heavy to put into words, and deep down, you’re terrified of what you might say if you tried.

At the doctor’s office, the cold gel on your stomach is a jarring contrast to the heat of your fear. The ultrasound screen flickers to life, and there it is—a heartbeat, strong and steady. Relief washes over you like a cool breeze, but it’s tinged with uncertainty. You dare not hope too much, not yet.

Yoongi’s voice cuts through the silence, steady but laced with anxiety, “Why is she bleeding so much?” His eyes search the doctor’s face for reassurance, for something solid to hold onto.

The doctor hesitates, their gaze softening as they meet your wide, tear-streaked eyes. “It’s not uncommon to bleed in the early stages of pregnancy,” they explain gently. “Everything could be okay, but…” they pause, and the weight of that single word hangs heavy in the air, “it might be a miscarriage in progress. I’m afraid there’s nothing we can do except wait and see what happens.” The apology in their voice is almost unbearable, as if they’re sorry for delivering such uncertain news.

And so you wait, the days stretching out like an endless horizon. The bleeding continues, each drop a reminder of the life that hangs in the balance. Yoongi never leaves your side, holding you close through the long, silent nights. You curl into a ball on the bed, grief pulling you into its dark embrace, and you weep for what you fear you’ve lost, though no one has told you for certain. You cry yourself to sleep most nights, haunted by the thought that the heartbeat you saw was the last flicker of hope, slowly fading away.

You feel like a hollow shell, a prisoner within your own skin, drifting through the motions of life, performing tasks you know you should care about but no longer do. The days blur together in a monotony of routines—going to work, waking up, all the things that once held meaning now feel like burdens. The joy that once colored your world has faded to gray. Yet, Yoongi remains by your side, unwavering in his support, whispering words of comfort, promising that everything will be okay. But when the doctor confirms your worst fears, telling you that the life you carried is no longer, you don’t even cry.

It’s as if your tears have run dry, drained by days of sorrow, leaving you numb and empty. Yoongi pulls you into his arms, holding you tightly, trying to shield you from the storm that rages inside. You feel his heartbeat, strong and steady, and you cling to it like a lifeline.

Back home, you slip off your shoes and head straight for the alcohol cabinet. The house is quiet, the air heavy with the weight of your grief. You reach for a bottle of red wine, the one you’ve been saving for a special occasion. With a shaky hand, you uncork it and pour the crimson liquid into a glass, filling it almost to the brim. You glance at your husband, managing a weak smile. “Do you want one?”

“It’s the middle of the day on a Saturday,” he says softly, concern lacing his voice. But you just shrug, raising the glass to your lips as if it could wash away the pain. “But I don’t mind drinking with you,” he adds, grabbing a glass for himself and pouring some wine. After all, it’s five o’clock somewhere, right?

He settles beside you on the couch, wrapping an arm around you, and you lean into him, seeking the comfort of his warmth. The past few days have been a blur of tears and aching silence, and as you take a sip of the wine, the familiar burn in your throat offers a momentary escape. You know it’s not a solution, but today, you allow yourself this indulgence. Tomorrow will be different, you tell yourself. Tomorrow is a new day.

Yoongi doesn’t say much; he simply kisses the top of your head, holding you close as you both drink in the quiet of the day. There’s a solace in his presence, in the way his arms encircle you, making you feel safe even as the world crumbles around you. The wine, the warmth of his body, the soft hum of his voice as he sings you a lullaby—it’s all a balm to your wounded soul.

Before long, sleep overtakes you, and you drift off with your head resting on his lap, his fingers gently combing through your hair. When you wake, your head throbs with a dull ache, and your eyes feel dry and gritty. You rub them, groaning softly as you stretch. Yoongi isn’t beside you, but on the table, you find a glass of water and a couple of painkillers waiting for you. The small gesture makes your heart swell with love.

As you swallow the pills, Yoongi emerges from the bathroom, a towel slung low around his hips, droplets of water clinging to his skin. His voice, still thick with sleep, wraps around you like a warm blanket. “How are you feeling, babe?”

A small smile tugs at your lips. “I have a slight headache, but I’m okay,” you reply, pouting playfully as you try to tame your unruly hair. “Thank you for indulging me,” you add, feeling a surge of gratitude for the way he understands you, even in your darkest moments.

He crosses the room, sitting beside you on the couch, his presence a steady anchor in the turbulent sea of your emotions. “I’ll always be by your side, babe, you know that,” he says, his voice soft but filled with unwavering conviction.

You nod, your heart swelling with a love so deep it almost hurts. Because you do know. And you love him all the more for it.

He disappears into the bedroom to get dressed, and when he returns, he sits beside you again, his hand finding yours, his touch grounding you. “Do you want to talk about it?”

You hesitate, fidgeting with your fingers, feeling the weight of the words that hover on your lips. But you know that talking might help, that sharing the burden might make it easier to bear. So you take a deep breath and let the words spill out.

“I want to try to get pregnant again,” you confess, the hurt still fresh, but beneath it, a flicker of hope. Despite the pain, despite everything, you still want that baby. You still believe in the dream that once filled you with so much joy.

Yoongi looks at you, his eyes soft with understanding. He nods, his grip on your hand tightening just a little. “Okay,” he says, his voice steady and sure. “Let’s try again then.”

And in that moment, you know that no matter what comes next, you won’t be facing it alone.

And so you try, again and again, in every possible way, in so many positions that it borders on the absurd. The weeks blur into months, yet each time you face the stark emptiness of a negative pregnancy test, hope crumbles a little more. You feel bombed, discouraged, like a balloon slowly deflating, the air of optimism leaking out with each failed attempt. You never imagined it would be this hard to conceive, and the disappointment weighs heavy on your heart.

Doubt creeps in like a shadow, wrapping its cold fingers around your thoughts. You begin to wonder if there’s something wrong with your body, some hidden flaw that’s keeping you from the one thing you want most. Why isn’t it happening? And yet, beneath the yearning, there’s a trembling fear—fear of what will happen when you finally see those two lines again. Fear of reliving the pain of another loss.

“Maybe we should see a doctor,” Yoongi suggests one quiet afternoon as you both pick at your food, the silence between you thick with unspoken worries. “Maybe I should get my sperm checked,” he muses, his voice tinged with a mix of concern and determination.

You nod, though deep down you doubt that he’s the problem. It feels like the fault lies with you, that your body is betraying you. Isn’t there something about a woman’s fertility dipping after thirty? You vaguely recall reading that somewhere, and it haunts you now. But Yoongi’s right—there’s no harm in getting checked. Perhaps it will give you some answers, or at least a direction.

A few days later, you walk into your doctor’s office with leaden feet and little hope, convinced that age has already set its limits on your dreams. The tests are done, the waiting begins, and you brace yourself for the worst. But when the results come back, they reveal that everything is fine—your fertility is normal, Yoongi’s sperm is in excellent shape. So why isn’t it happening? The question echoes in your mind, relentless and cruel.

Frustration gnaws at you, its claws sinking deeper with each passing day. You find yourself snapping at your colleagues, the tension spilling over in ways you can’t control. Apologies tumble from your lips almost as often as the sharp words that precede them. At home, you manage to hold your temper, but you fear it’s only a matter of time before even Yoongi becomes a target, despite his unwavering support.

Making love, once a source of joy and connection, now feels hollow, reduced to a mechanical routine. The passion that once ignited between you has dimmed, replaced by a clinical determination to conceive. You know Yoongi feels it too; he’s always been attuned to your moods.

“I’m not fucking you when you’re not in the mood,” he says one night, his voice low but firm.

You scoff, anger flaring as you rise from the bed. “Just fuck me so I can get pregnant.”

“No,” he replies, his tone unyielding. “Not when your heart’s not in it.”

With that, he stands up, naked and resolute, pulling his clothes back on as you lie there, seething and tearful, frustration coursing through you like a fever. The anger isn’t just at him; it’s at yourself, at your body, at the unfairness of it all. You hear him in the kitchen, the clatter of dishes a stark contrast to the silence that fills the bedroom. You pull yourself together, dressing slowly, avoiding the mirror because you know you won’t like what you see—a woman who feels trapped in a body that won’t cooperate, stuck between desire and despair.

But Yoongi isn’t wrong. Pushing yourself when your heart isn’t in it won’t help, you know that. You just can’t help the desperation that drives you to this point. Taking a deep breath, you step out of the bedroom and find him in the kitchen. Without a word, you wrap your arms around him, burying your face in his chest. “I’m sorry,” you whisper, your voice thick with regret. “I’ll do better.”

He hugs you back, strong and warm, and in that embrace, you find a flicker of comfort. You kiss, a promise unspoken between you, and you feel a surge of gratitude for the man who stands beside you through all the heartbreak and frustration. Whatever comes next, you know you’re in this together.

You immerse yourself in research, scouring every corner of the internet for vitamins, supplements, and rituals that might tip the odds in your favor. Each new discovery feels like a lifeline, something to cling to in the relentless tide of hope and disappointment. But one day, after yet another fruitless search, you feel a wave of exhaustion wash over you—a weariness that reaches deep into your bones. You close your laptop with a heavy sigh and turn to Yoongi, the words slipping from your lips before you can second-guess them. 

“I don’t think I want to have kids anymore,” you say, your voice eerily calm, as if stating a simple fact. But inside, you feel as cold and distant as the words sound. Yoongi’s head snaps toward you so quickly that you can almost hear the air shift. His eyes search your face, trying to comprehend the sudden shift in your resolve.

“We can just keep trying,” he replies, his voice gentle but with an undercurrent of desperation, as though he’s pleading with you—because he is. You know how deeply he longs for babies, for a family built on the love you share.

But the weight of it all crushes you, and the tears you’ve held back for so long finally threaten to spill over. “I don’t think I can,” you whisper, your voice breaking as a sob catches in your throat. The exhaustion, the fear, the endless cycle of hope and heartbreak—it’s too much.

Yoongi pulls you into his arms, his embrace warm and reassuring. He pats your back, murmuring that it’s okay, that everything will be fine, even as he holds you a little tighter, as if trying to shield you from the pain. He pulls back slightly, his eyes locking with yours, and you see the sincerity in them—the way he’s willing to let go of his own dreams for your sake. 

“We don’t have to have kids if you don’t want to anymore,” he says, his voice steady, his gaze unwavering, making sure you know he means it. It’s not just a comfort; it’s a promise.

You swallow hard, the enormity of the decision weighing on you. Could you keep trying? Maybe. But fear coils around your heart, tightening with each passing thought. The future feels uncertain, and that terrifies you.

“Maybe,” you begin, searching for the right words, “we could still try, but not focus on it so much. I don’t think it’s healthy for me to be this obsessed.”

He nods, a small smile playing on his lips as relief softens his features. “Maybe we should rekindle our love,” he suggests gently. “Sex shouldn’t feel like a chore, and I hate that it does for you,” he adds, a pout forming on his lips as he looks at you with concern. “How can I make it better for you?”

You take a moment to ponder his question, reflecting on the love you share, the bond that has always been strong, even in the face of adversity. You realize that it’s not about what’s missing, but about what’s been neglected—the time, the attention, the simple joys of being together. Your hectic schedules have stolen moments that should have been yours, and now you feel the distance.

“Do you want to go on a date with me?” you ask, a shy smile tugging at the corners of your mouth.

His chuckle is like music, sweet and comforting, warming you from the inside out. “Always,” he replies, intertwining his fingers with yours, his touch a silent vow of affection.

In the weeks that follow, you carve out more time for each other, stepping back from the rush of work to simply be together. You surprise him at his garage, sharing takeout in his cluttered office, laughing over greasy fries and soda. You catch late-night movies, stroll through the mall hand-in-hand, visit little cafes tucked away in the corners of the city. You do all the things you’ve missed, the simple, everyday joys that once made your love effortless, and already you feel lighter, happier.

Amidst this rekindling of your love, you stumble upon the perfect house just outside of Seoul. It’s spacious, with a large living room that echoes with the laughter of future children you haven’t given up on just yet. The garden sprawls wide, with enough space for dreams to grow, and the garage—oh, the garage is exactly what Yoongi has always wanted, a place to tinker and create. When you step inside for the first time, you feel it in your bones—this is home. It speaks to you, calls to something deep within you, and you see the same recognition in Yoongi’s eyes. 

The decision to buy the house is easy, almost instinctual, as if you’ve always known this was where you were meant to be. You celebrate with friends, toasting to the new chapter that’s about to begin, and their joy mirrors your own. The move won’t happen until summer, giving you a few precious months to pack up your life and prepare for the future. And for the first time in a long while, that future doesn’t feel so daunting—it feels full of possibilities.

It’s March, and winter still clings to the world with frosty fingers, the cold seeping through the cracks of the early morning. Yoongi holds you extra close as you stroll along the river, the chill in the air making you grateful for the wool scarf he wrapped around your neck with such tender care. Your hand finds refuge in the deep pocket of his coat, where your fingers intertwine, sharing warmth with each squeeze and caress. 

As you walk, you take in the quiet beauty of the morning. Couples sit huddled on benches, whispering secrets, some stealing kisses as if the cold gives them courage. Children chase each other across the dewy grass, their laughter like wind chimes in the crisp air. You savor these moments, these tranquil walks before the world wakes up fully and the weather softens into spring.

Yoongi tugs you toward a small coffee shop nestled by the river, and soon you’re cradling steaming cups of hot cocoa. The rich scent of chocolate wraps around you like a comforting blanket as you settle into a cozy corner. Across the table, Yoongi’s fingers dance playfully over yours, each brush sending electric jolts through your body. His touch warms you from the inside out, and you feel the heat rise to your cheeks, though you try to hide it.

Suddenly, he chuckles, his eyes sparkling with amusement. “You’ve got something on your face,” he teases, pointing at your mouth.

You fumble to wipe it away, but before you can, Yoongi leans over the table, closing the distance between you. His lips capture yours in a soft kiss, his tongue slipping out to clean the smudge of cocoa from your mouth. The simple act is intimate, thrilling, and utterly unexpected.

“Yoongi, we’re in public,” you stammer, your voice a mix of scolding and breathless surprise. The audacity of his gesture stirs a warmth between your legs, a desire that flickers to life like a spark catching flame.

“When has that ever bothered me?” he retorts with a mischievous grin, his boldness both shocking and endearing.

You stare at him, baffled by his audacity, but also deeply drawn to it. With a playful smile, you grab his hand, pulling him up from his chair. “Let’s get home before you get us kicked out.”

Laughter bubbles between you as you walk hand in hand, the cold forgotten in the heat of the moment. By the time you step into the elevator, the tension has built to a fever pitch, and you find yourself unable to wait any longer. You pounce on him, surprising Yoongi with the fiery need in your kiss, your lips capturing his in a fierce embrace.

“I want you, Yoon,” you whisper breathlessly, your lips brushing against his ear as you tighten your arms around his neck. “I want you to fuck me so hard I can’t walk tomorrow.”

His giggle is low and throaty, the sound reverberating through you as his back meets the steel of the elevator wall. “Hmmm, you’d like that, huh?”

“Yes,” you pant, your breath hot against his skin. You lick your lips, eyes dark with desire. “You can decide how you want it. My birthday present to you.”

He chuckles, kissing you softly, tenderly, as he murmurs, “But you already gave me a scotch, a new toolbox, and a house,” a kiss for each gift, each one lingering longer than the last. “You don’t need to give me more.”

“And sex shouldn’t really be a gift,” he adds, his lips quirking into a smile, but you nod, already knowing this. 

“Doesn’t change the fact that I want you inside me,” you counter with a wink, giving your own ass a playful slap. 

A low grunt escapes him, arousal thickening his voice as he grabs you, pinning you against the wall, his lips tracing a searing path down your neck. You moan softly, your body arching toward him, your pussy throbbing with need.

When the elevator doors slide open, he pulls you out, his grip firm as he leads you to your apartment door. He fumbles briefly with the key, urgency in every motion, and the moment the door clicks shut behind you, the world outside ceases to exist.

Shoes are discarded in a hurry, and in the blink of an eye, Yoongi has you in the kitchen, lifting you effortlessly onto the counter. He spreads your legs, his eyes dark and hungry as he takes in the sight of you. Already, you’re so wet, aching for him, and you can see the primal desire mirrored in his gaze. 

He kneels before you, lifting the hem of your dress with a mischievous glint in his eye. “There’s a wet patch on your panties, babe,” he murmurs, a chuckle rumbling from his chest as his gaze darkens with desire.

“Well, I want you badly,” you breathe, your legs parting in invitation, your body aching for his touch.

Without hesitation, he hooks his fingers into the delicate fabric of your panties and slides them down your legs, letting them pool on the floor. His lips find your slick pussy, his tongue a sinful instrument of pleasure as it dances over your folds. He laps at you with fervor, his nose grazing your sensitive clit as his tongue delves deeper, exploring every inch of you. You moan, the sound almost foreign to your own ears, lost as you are in the ecstasy he’s drawing from you. It doesn’t take long before you’re unraveling, your release shuddering through you as you come apart on his tongue.

He pulls back, his lips glistening with your essence, and he licks them slowly, savoring the taste of you. “You’re so hot,” he breathes, his voice thick with need.

You hum in response, wanting to tell him how irresistible he is, but before you can, he’s grabbing your hips, pulling you down from the counter and capturing your lips in a searing kiss. “I want to fuck you so bad,” he growls against your mouth, his fingers digging into your flesh possessively. “I want to fill you up, to lose myself in your pussy.”

When you pull away, his eyes are wild, pupils blown wide with lust. “I want to take care of you first,” you whisper, a playful smile tugging at your lips. “I want to suck you off.”

“You don’t have to. I just need to be inside you,” he argues, his hands already unzipping his pants, freeing his hard, aching cock.

“No,” you insist, your voice soft but firm. “It’s your birthday, and I want to give you everything you desire.” You help him discard his pants and boxers, and as soon as he’s free of the fabric, you wrap your hand around his dick, feeling him twitch in your grasp. He groans, a needy sound that makes your own desire flare even hotter.

“I want you to fuck my mouth,” you say, your voice sultry and full of intent. You drop to your knees before him, looking up with wide, pleading eyes. “Please.”

He hesitates, but only for a moment. You always have this power over him, making him bend to your will with just a word, a look. So when you take him into your warm, wet mouth, he sees stars. You hold his gaze, your eyes locked on his as you slowly, sensually, begin to pleasure him. He thinks you look like a vixen, so full of confidence and allure, and sometimes he can’t quite believe that you’re his, that you belong to him in every way.

For a while, he lets you lead, your lips and tongue working him over with skillful precision. But soon, his need for control takes over, his hands tangling in your hair as he starts to guide your movements, thrusting gently at first, then deeper, harder. He knows you can take it, even when your eyes flutter closed and your breath hitches. He knows you love it as much as he does. The sounds you make, the soft, wet noises of your mouth on him, fill the kitchen, and he moans your name, the pleasure almost overwhelming.

He can feel himself getting close, that familiar tightening in his core, and it takes everything in him to pull back, to stop before he loses himself entirely. When he does, a string of saliva still connects you, a testament to the raw, unfiltered passion between you.

“Was it too much?” he asks, his voice rough with desire, his thumb brushing against your flushed cheek.

You shake your head, wiping the drool from your lips. “No,” you assure him, your voice breathless but steady. “If it was, I would have said something.”

“Good,” he rasps, pulling you to your feet, his lips finding yours in a heated kiss. “Because now I need to fuck you. On the table.”

You pull back just enough to meet his eyes, a playful glint in your gaze. “The dining table?”

He grins, wicked and full of promise. “Yes, the dining table.”

He nods, and you do as he says, feeling his presence close behind you, a silent promise of what’s to come. The air thickens with anticipation as you remain in your dress, a symbol of your desire lingering between the layers of fabric. When he turns you around to face the table and gently presses you down onto its cool surface, you know exactly what he wants, and the thought alone sends a shiver down your spine. God, you love it when he takes you from behind.

He hikes up your dress, exposing you to the cool air, and his hands find your ass, groping and squeezing with a possessive reverence. “So pretty,” he murmurs, voice low and rough with need.

You feel the heat of his cock teasing against your entrance, the anticipation almost unbearable. His hands spread your cheeks, and then you feel the head of his cock pressing into your slick pussy. Slowly, he pushes in, the stretch more intense in this position, but you welcome it, your body humming with pleasure as he fills you completely.

He grunts, a deep, primal sound that reverberates through you as he bottoms out, his cock buried to the hilt inside you. “Yoongi—please, move,” you pant, your hands gripping the edge of the table, seeking leverage as he begins to thrust into you.

“Fuck,” you moan, your voice breaking as he picks up the pace, his hips slamming into yours with a rhythm that feels both punishing and divine.

His hands roam over your backside, caressing, gripping, pulling you closer with every thrust. “Ah, fuck. You always feel so fucking good around me,” he groans, his voice dripping with raw desire as he speaks your name.

“I love having your cock in me. Fuck me faster, please,” you plead, your voice breathless, every nerve in your body alight with want.

The table shifts beneath you, scraping against the floor with each thrust, but the sound is lost in the symphony of your pleasure. Soon, this place won’t be yours to worry about, but right now, it’s all that grounds you as he drives into you, hitting that perfect spot inside that makes your vision blur with bliss.

“Fuck! Right there!” you scream, your mind emptying of everything but him, your husband, the man you love so fiercely.

“So fucking tight,” he moans, his fingers digging into your hips with a grip that promises to leave marks, tangible reminders of this moment.

“Yoon—, I’m gonna come,” you gasp, your breath ragged, sweat beading on your forehead as the heat between you builds to a crescendo.

He rams into you harder, just like you wanted, and you shatter around him, your orgasm ripping through you with a force that leaves you trembling, his name falling from your lips like a prayer. Your vision goes white, stars bursting behind your eyelids as your body sags against the table, barely able to support itself.

“Fuck,” he curses, and then his hand comes down on your ass, the sharp sound of the slap echoing in the room. You clench around him reflexively, another wave of pleasure crashing over you.

“Fuck,” he curses again, another slap, another burst of sensation, and you cry out, your body quivering under his relentless assault.

“Yoongi!” you scream, teetering on the edge of another climax, “I think—”

But the words are stolen from you as he continues to pound into you, the force of his thrusts driving the breath from your lungs, leaving you gasping, lost in a sea of sensation.

“Fucking shit. I’m so close,” he pants, his hand soothing over your ass before delivering another stinging slap, and your second orgasm melds into a third, your body convulsing with the intensity of it. You cry out in pleasure, your voice raw as your world narrows to the feel of him inside you, the only anchor in the storm of your release.

His thrusts grow erratic, less controlled, until finally, he stills, his cock buried deep as he spills into you, the warmth of his release filling you up. A sigh escapes your lips, your body utterly spent, your mind adrift in the aftermath.

He collapses over you, his weight a comforting pressure as he keeps himself inside you, his hands caressing your body with gentle affection. “You’re so pretty,” he whispers against your ear, pressing soft kisses to your skin. “I love you so much.”

You chuckle softly, the warmth of your love for him blooming in your chest. “You aren’t too bad yourself,” you tease, feeling his softened cock slide out of you as you turn to face him. “And I love you so much too.”

He smiles, tender and full of adoration, before capturing your lips in a kiss that speaks of gratitude and deep, unwavering love. “Thank you for this lovely birthday,” he murmurs, his breath warm against your lips.

You smile back, letting him take your hand and lead you to the bathroom, where he gently cleans you up, his touch as tender as his heart. Later, you fall asleep nestled in his arms, the world outside forgotten, lost in the cocoon of your shared warmth.

You stare at the test in your trembling hands, the seconds ticking away with agonizing slowness. Three minutes—those eternal, cursed minutes—dragging you back to that moment in the forest when the thought of pregnancy filled you with dread. But now, everything is different. Now you want it, crave it with every fiber of your being, yet fear still lingers like a shadow in your heart, whispering what-ifs.

Your phone vibrates, breaking the silence, signaling that the time is up. You take a deep breath, steel yourself, and then you look. 

Two lines. 

Your heart skips a beat, and you blink, hardly believing it. 

Two lines.

You rush to show Yoongi, his eyes lighting up with pure joy as he sees the result. He’s elated, grinning like a child, and his happiness is contagious. You’re happy too, truly, but beneath the surface, that familiar fear curls, a silent specter reminding you of the past, of the heartbreak you’ve been through before. What if it happens again?

But the weeks pass, and you pack your life into boxes, preparing for the move as summer blooms. Now, four months pregnant, you find yourself with Yoongi wrapped around your little finger. He’s doting, tender, doing everything for you as if you were made of glass—cooking your meals, helping you dress, even braiding your hair with surprising care. He indulges your every craving, runs to the store for cake and candy at odd hours, holds your hair when the nausea takes over. His protectiveness borders on overbearing, but you can’t bring yourself to mind. It’s endearing, really, and you feel a warmth in your chest that’s as sweet as the candy he brings you.

On moving day, Yoongi insists you don’t lift a finger, so you supervise, directing your friends on where to place each box in your new home. It still feels surreal—this beautiful house is yours, truly yours. You rest your hand on your growing belly, not yet feeling the strong kicks you’re longing for, though you’ve sensed some faint fluttering. Perhaps it’s just gas, but still, the anticipation is almost unbearable.

After a day of grocery shopping, stocking the fridge and freezer with essentials, you find yourself craving ice cream late at night—the one with Oreo bits swirled through it. The craving grips you suddenly, fiercely, and you know there’s no ignoring it. You need that ice cream.

“Yoongi?” you call out, drawing his name in that sweet, almost sing-song voice he knows all too well.

He chuckles, already predicting your request from the way you’ve drawn out his name. Your cravings have become a nightly ritual, but he doesn’t mind. In fact, he loves it—loves you more than words can express.

“Yeah?” he answers, laughter in his voice, as you hesitate, almost shy to ask for something else after all the shopping you did today.

“I’m craving ice cream…” you murmur, unsure how he’ll react, knowing full well you’d already stocked the freezer just hours ago.

He sighs, but it’s a soft, amused sound. “The one with Oreo bits, right?”

Your eyes fill with love and gratitude, tears pricking at the corners. “Thank you!” you whisper, your heart swelling as he’s already up, grabbing his keys without a second thought.

You watch him go, overwhelmed with love for this man who would move mountains just to see you smile. When he returns, ice cream in hand, you greet him with a kiss, diving into the tub with abandon. Fifteen minutes later, the tub is empty, and you glance at him with a sheepish smile, wondering if he’ll have to make another trip. That’s when he decides to always buy extra, stashing it away in the freezer, ready for your next craving.

He’s your snack patrol, your guardian of midnight desires, and he’ll do whatever it takes to keep you happy, to keep that radiant smile on your face. After all, you’re carrying his tiny miracle inside you, and for him, indulging your every whim is the least he can do.

One evening, you stumble through the door after a long, grueling day at work, exhaustion clinging to you like a heavy shroud. All you want is to collapse into the soft embrace of your bed, to let the day melt away into dreams. But hunger gnaws at you, demanding attention, so you drag yourself to the kitchen, hoping to find Yoongi bustling around, preparing dinner as usual. Yet, the air is absent of the familiar, comforting aromas that typically greet you, and instead, you find Yoongi lounging on the couch, engrossed in a book.

“Didn’t you make dinner?” you snap, frustration bubbling up before you can contain it, the weariness in your bones making your temper short.

He glances up, confused, his lips parting to speak, but you cut him off, the anger spilling over. 

“You dick! You know I expect you to make dinner when I get home late,” you huff, the irritation morphing into something sharper, more biting. But before the anger can fully take root, it unravels into sobs, the tears pouring out uncontrollably, as if your exhaustion has found a new outlet. You’re crying so hard that you scare yourself, and Yoongi, too, who tosses his book aside and rushes to your side, wrapping you in his arms, his touch gentle and soothing.

“There’s leftovers, remember?” he whispers softly, his hand rubbing comforting circles on your back, his voice steady and calm, grounding you in the moment. 

And just like that, clarity washes over you. He’s right. Of course, he’s right. The realization of your misplaced anger makes you feel foolish, small. Lately, you’ve been snapping at him over the smallest things, calling him names in moments of frustration, but he always meets your outbursts with a patient smile, never holding your forgetfulness or emotional swings against you. He’s a gem, a steady rock in the midst of your storm.

“I’m sorry,” you murmur, pressing a kiss to his lips, and he returns it with such tenderness that you know, deep down, everything is going to be okay.

The months in your new home pass like pages turning in a cherished book, each one filled with milestones and memories. You’ve hosted a housewarming, celebrated your baby shower, and now, winter has settled in once more, December’s chill creeping through the air. Maternity leave is just around the corner, and you can’t wait to have the time to focus entirely on Yoongi and the tiny miracle growing inside you.

“I’m so fucking tired, Yoon,” you sigh, sinking into a chair, every breath feeling like an effort, exhaustion etched into every part of you.

“It’s okay, take a break. I’ll finish up the painting. Why don’t you go change clothes?” he suggests with a reassuring smile, but the frustration within you bubbles up again, spilling over before you can stop it.

“I look so ugly,” you cry, tears welling up as you take in your reflection, emotions surging in a wave. “I’m so fat, and my stomach feels like it’s dragging me down. I’m swollen everywhere, and I just look so ugly.” Your voice breaks, the tears falling freely, and Yoongi drops his paintbrush immediately, rushing to comfort you.

“You’re not ugly, babe,” he says softly, wiping away your tears with his paint-stained fingers, his eyes full of love and sincerity. “Those extra pounds just make you even sexier,” he adds with a playful smile, kissing the tip of your nose. “Please don’t speak ill of your body. I love you, and I love everything about your body.”

You sniffle, his words washing over you like a balm, soothing the insecurities that have taken root in your mind. You know he’s right, and you decide to believe him, because why else would he stick around through all your emotional ups and downs? “Thank you, Yoon. I love everything about you too.”

The nursery is ready, painted in a soft shade of lilac, filled with carefully chosen furniture. You’ve both decided that your baby girl will sleep in your room at first, so the nursery remains more symbolic than functional for now. But it’s been a labor of love, preparing for this new chapter in your lives.

As you gaze out the window, watching the snow pile up on the street, a sense of quiet anticipation fills you. Soon, so very soon, you’ll meet your miracle baby, and the thought sends a warmth spreading through you, cutting through the cold of the winter night.

Taglist: @idkjustlovingbts @constancelayon @wobblewobble822 @ktownshizzle @moonchild1 @ultimatefangirl0 @baechugff @jimintaemin @parapiop7 @fckkntired @iluvfndms @citypop-princess @tarahardcore @bergandysam @massivelyfullenthusiast @tatyhend @gimeow

*if this fucking taglist doesn't work... I don't know what to do with myself. Hopefully you'll find it even though tumblr will probably be a bitch and not let it work...

Author’s note(2): I really hope you liked it! I hope it wasn’t too angsty 🥹 This was largely inspired by the song ‘Pregnant’ by Phlake. You should really give it a listen, it’s very explicit and cute, lol 😝 Please let me know what you think in a reblog, comment or ask. And if you’ve ever had a miscarriage— here’s an extra hug for you 🫂

[devynscomet]

in my room

in which; billie would do anything for you.

a/n; i was supposed to post this for kinktober but i lost motivation and i find myself physically unable to write smut so take this shitty fic i can’t finish💔😢

vampillie because we love her.

billie slams her car door shut, twirling her keys in her fingers. she’s tense, she’s stressed, she feels like shit. but it would all be okay, because as soon as she returns home, she knows you’d be there.

billie’s that weird neighbour. she never talks to anybody and nobody ever sees her come in and out of her door. by the time she’s home, everything’s dark. nobody dared to speak to her. except for you.

it’s dark in her house. there’s nobody there, and her footsteps echo eerily throughout the emptiness. her tongue prods gently at the fangs in her mouth, desperate for prey. for something to feed on. she wanted to feed on you. you, you, you.

when she finally reached her bedroom, she lays down in bed, staring pointlessly at the ceiling. her gaze fixed on her window, jaw clenched tightly as she waited for that familiar knock on her window, your voice wafting quietly through the screen.

2:45 am, and she finally hears it.

tap. tap.

a pause.

and then, “are you gonna let me in?”

your voice is like a soothing music to billie’s ears. the room is far too dark for you to see anything from outside. your breath fogged up the glass.

“hello? hellooo?”

billie slid her window up, her pupils blowing out with pure lust and desire as she helps you in. her lips messily attach to yours as she practically shoves you against the wall beside the window, sliding it shut. your hands scrabble desperately at her shirt, trying to catch your brain up to the moment.

when her tongue slides into your mouth, that’s suddenly all you can think about. your moan fills her ears and vibrates against her lips. her hands grip down harshly on yours hips, eyes closing as she put her entire soul into dominating the kiss. all you could do was helplessly hold on as she kissed you hungrily, like she was going to eat you alive. and she knew you’d let her.

eventually, after a heavy make-out session against the wall, your hands gently push against her chest, coming up for air. both of your faces were flushed, lips wet and parted and panting. your expression had changed.

“baby, what’s wrong?” billie murmured, gently cupping your cheek and running her thumb along your bottom lip. something’s wrong. her baby was upset.

“i was spotted by the neighbour’s kid…” when those words hit her ears, her pupils contracted into slits. a small growl of annoyance sounded in the back of her throat, her eyes burning into yours.

“and?”

“and i can’t come back anymore. they know our secret.” your whisper was almost sad, and definitely regretful. her jaw clenched, gaze still cold and fierce. she wasn’t about to let you go. never, would she let you go. you were hers.

“you stay here and don’t leave until i come back.” she snarled, and before you could even process what was happening, billie was down in the kitchen, grabbing a knife.

now, she stood in the neighbour’s backyard, knife gripped tightly in her hand. with practiced ease, she cuts through the screen. for the kid, who saw you, she dug the blade deep into his throat. no chance to scream whatsoever as she muffled him, shoving him to the ground, leaving him dead. she had the dignity to at least make his death a bit less… graphic.

the dad and mom weren’t as lucky. she chased him down the hallway. she shredded up the father’s throat, and he was quick to fall.

billie held the mother’s face still as she straddled her hips. she licked her lips, fangs elongating as a cloud of red clouded her pupils.

“you’re pretty. shame i have to kill you.” she leaned in, her teeth sinking into her neck. but her blood didn’t taste as good as yours. nothing could compare to yours. if anything, it was repulsive.

billie made quick work of the family. nobody would suspect her. even if they did, nobody would be able to catch her. when she got back to the house, you were sitting patiently on her bed, mindlessly staring off at the wall. what caught your attention the most was the copious amount of blood that currently covered her. you should’ve been concerned, this should’ve been your sign to leave. she’d always made it clear you could after all. but no, instead, it was actually rather hot.

“bils…” you’d murmur, standing up slowly and walking over to her.

“im sosososorry, i got mad and caught up and i don’t know—“ billie apologised profusely, but she was shut up the moment she felt your lips on hers. she closed her eyes, her hands gripping onto your hips.

she wasn’t going to let you go now. she couldn’t.

[qkopi]

Not to be basic or anything 😭

But can I request spider!reader going with Miles to earth 42. And she’s 42!miles dead gf so when he sees her he’s super attached to her and his feelings are coming back for her she’s reciprocating. But then Miles is just chained up watching the girl he likes being flirted with by his alt self and he’s just like

miles: yeah this doesn’t hurt 😐

Uncle Aaron: you lyin?

Miles: Yeah ����

ANOTHER DIMENSION

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════════════════════════

pairings: prowler! miles x fem! reader

cw: none

summary: just when you and miles thought you had gone back home, everything went wrong when you meet miles’ alternate version of himself, but for some reason why were you kind of falling for him too?

a/n: ik the anon said spidey! miles was just going to stay there and remain chained to the punching bag but come on, we all know he’s gonna escape one way or another🤷🏻‍♀️

════════════════════════

just when you found out you were in the wrong dimension with miles, he was knocked out from someone behind, making you rush towards him.

“miles—” you kneeled to miles’ unconscious state as the boy with the prowler suit walked closer to you but you had webbed his hand to the railing of the rooftop.

“don’t even try it.” you glared at the prowler until uncle aaron had threw a gas poison at you, immediately making you weak as you inhaled the toxic air.

before you could even touch the ground, someone had caught you. it was that masked boy.

(30 minute time skip)

you woke up, gasping for air as you looked around the place, examining it for a bit before investigating.

“is this uncle aaron’s place..?” you thought to yourself as you continued to look around.

as your eyes wandered all over the place, you then landed on a punching bag where miles was chained up against.

“miles..” you said under your breath worriedly, immediately taking the blanket off your lap to go free him.

but before you could even stand up, the prowler had held you to sit back down.

“get off me!” you tried shooting you webs, only for nothing to come out of your wrists.

“these yours?” prowler opened his hand, revealing your web-shooters. before you could snatch them, he threw them behind his back.

you tried to fight against his hold, pushing his hands off your shoulders, trying to knock him out but he had caught your fist in time.

“who are you and what do you want?” you gritted on your teeth, glaring at him through the lenses.

there was a moment of silence, making you impatient as the prowler’s mask retracted and revealed his face.

“miles..” your eyes softened as you lowered your fist.

“hermosa.. (beautiful..)” miles’ hand trailed up to your cheek, caressing your cheek as he is staring at you with a warm and gentle expression on his face.

miles is now beginning to speak and is whispering to you in a soft tone as he looks at you with love and hope in his eyes.

“you look just like her..”

before you could even ask what he was talking about, the boy had cupped your cheek and kissed you on the lips, feel his warm touch as the kiss goes on.

you had never kissed anyone before or even have the thought of kissing your bestfriend… but this miles was making it feel like the best thing you could imagine.

meanwhile. your miles was beginning to wake up as he looked at his surroundings, then spotting another version of himself kissing you. but then, miles slowly moves away from you and looks at you with a loving expression.

"i missed you so much, mi cariño.. (my darling..) it’s like you never even left..” he hugged you tightly in his embrace as you only blushed, not knowing what to do.

then you and miles could hear hear grunting noises from miles, he was struggling to get out of the punching bag as he was still weak.

“don’t touch her!” he yelled out, trying to break free but to no avail. meanwhile, miles only smirked at the other version of himself.

“say.. why don’t you ditch that cabrón (dumbass) and come with me, mami?” miles pulled you closer to him as you met him eye to eye.

“i’m sure i could do way better than he could.”

once those words came out of miles’ lips, miles broke free out of the punching bag in time with his venom powers. he immediately webbed your waist, pulling and twirling you back into his arms.

“nah, man. she’s mine.” a smirk only came up to miles’ lips as his mask retracted back onto his face.

“guess what, chico? i ain’t letting her go… not again..” miles muttered the last part to himself, getting his gauntlet ready to pounce on miles.

before miles could even land, miles had already grabbed your waist, pulling you closer as he still had his web shooters and breaking the windows to escape.

but miles was not going to let you go that easily. he wasn’t going to let his second chance slip away.

“how could you let him even touch you like that?” miles asked as he was swinging from building to building. miles never told you about his feelings, yet, but clearly they were showing.

“you don’t understand, miles! i think he-” miles suddenly cut you off, groaning in pain as he felt a device on his back, electrocuting his body and letting you go.

now you were falling 60ft in the air, trying to shoot your webs as you remembered, the other miles had thrown them away.

“oh sh-” before you could hit the ground, miles had already caught you, landing on a building as he carried you bridal style.

“told you i ain’t letting you go, unlike him.” miles smirked as you were still speechless.

yes, you did have feelings for miles but this miles made you weak in the knees.

miles then noticed from far away that miles was trying to get back up, swinging and trying to find you while miles hid you away from him.

while he hid the both of you, you noticed how close he was as he put his hands on the wall beside your head, panting under his breath.

“now, where were we?” he looked back up to your eyes as your eyes directly went to his lips.

“i think you were asking me to leave my miles for this miles.” you said sarcastically with a playful smile.

“it’s a good idea, dont you think?” a smirk came across his face, leaning in closer.

“mm, i don’t know.. you gotta show me if its worth it or not.” you put a finger to his lips, pushing him away but he took ahold of your wrist, moving them out of the way.

“oh, i’ll definitely show you..”

™︎ qkopi | tumblr

[brittle-doughie]

ive said this like twice before but ill say it again ... THANK YOU ,,, im glad you think he's cool 🥺 have a little happi benign butter cookie as a thanks 🫶

also i think i might have a problem . i recently got diagnosed with SMCD (Shadow Milk Cookie Disorder) and apprently it makes you think about him . 😢 he got me cooking up a whole sketch (i might refine it but im not sure if i have the time and patience to ^_^;;;;;;;;;;)

silly evil jester has got me HEHEHEHHEHEHE and all, unfortunately 😞

Your art, even as a sketch is looking pretty nice too! Keep up the good work with your skills! I’m still flabbergasted whenever someone draws my writings, wowie.

“A tough decision indeed! And only one chance to use the Guardian’s power right. What will it be? Let’s wait and see!”

You yelled at him to let them all go! Shadow Milk’s business was with you, not them!

“What’s the matter, my dear Butter~? Do you hold these cookies dear? Are they speeeecial~?”

You told him to not call you that…Y/N Cookie was your nam-

“WRONG! That’s the name these PESTS gave you! All that time with them…it makes me want to free their heads off their shoulders already!”

“Don’t!”

“As for you! What makes YOU believe that what you have with my beloved Butter is even comparable to what I have for them! What my comrades have for them!”

“For as long as I can remember, I have been the one to make them smile and laugh! Not you….ME! We were practicing stuck together like GLUE!”

“Then those CURSED WITCHES decided to lock me and the others away, by BRAINWASHING my Benign Butter Cookie into doing their bidding!”

“I had to watch as that LIAR Pure Vanilla Cookie become the best of pals with them, getting chummy and close. It made me want to escape that tree faster and destroy him! But my rage wouldn’t be comparable to another comrade of mine…she was just DYING to get out.”

“But now that I’m here, I can FINALLY reunite with them. They won’t need YOU or those other half cookies anymore…they’ll only need us…”

You stepped up…you told him that he’s lost it, he’s insane if he thinks you’ll ever go back to him or the others….

“Fine, I’ll confess…I may be a little obsessed and insane, but it’s all for you, my Butter wutter~ Don’t worry about your friend, she’ll be making her exit now~”

If he thought he’ll get away with this, then think again!

“Y/N Cookie….”

“I’ll be right there with you…”

“HANDS OFF MY BENIGN BUTTER COOKIE, PEST!”

[prettygirl-gabi]

Skin to Skin

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Rating: General Audiences

Warning:Fluffy fluff, even more fluff, very boring but cute aftercare

Category:F/M

Fandom: Matt Sturniolo (Sturniolo Triplets)

Relationships: !boyfriend Matt Sturniolo x f reader

Summary: imagine laying on top of matt skin to skin after sex and he’s just carresing the back of ur head 😢

This came from @mattscoquette and her anonymous ask.... I hope I did it justice and I hope I did it well

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I lay on top of Matt, our bodies warm and tangled, the only sounds in the room being the quiet hum of the city outside and our slowed breaths. My head rests against his chest, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath my ear is comforting. His arm is wrapped around my shoulders, his hand moving slowly up and down my back, tracing small, soothing circles. I feel safe, cocooned in the warmth of his skin and the softness of his touch.

Neither of us says anything for a while, content in the shared silence. I close my eyes, feeling the rise and fall of his chest with each breath. The room is dimly lit, a soft glow from the bedside lamp casting gentle shadows over us. I can feel him occasionally shift, his fingers grazing the back of my neck, sliding up into my hair, then back down to the base of my spine. I love the way he touches me—so careful, as if I might slip away if he’s not gentle enough.

"Are you okay?" he asks quietly, his voice a soft rumble that I feel more than I hear.

I nod, too relaxed to open my eyes just yet. "Mhm," I murmur, nestling closer. "I'm perfect."

He laughs, a quiet sound, and I feel his chest vibrate beneath me. "Perfect, huh?" He shifts slightly, brushing a few strands of hair away from my face. "I can live with that."

I smile, opening my eyes to look up at him. His face is relaxed, his eyes soft and sleepy. There’s something in his gaze that makes my heart flutter—a kind of tenderness that he usually hides beneath his usual jokes and laid-back attitude. But right now, with just the two of us here, he doesn’t hold anything back.

"You're so beautiful," he whispers, almost like he doesn’t mean to say it out loud. His hand moves up to cradle the back of my head, his thumb tracing a gentle line along my cheek. "I don’t think I’ll ever get used to this."

My cheeks flush, and I look away, a little embarrassed. "Stop," I mumble, though I don’t really want him to.

But he shakes his head, his gaze steady. "No. I mean it. You’re... you’re everything." His words are soft, sincere, and they settle in my chest, warm and comforting.

I close my eyes again, letting his words sink in. It's moments like these that make everything worth it—the late-night conversations, the small, quiet gestures, the laughter we share. I don’t think I’ve ever felt this connected to someone, like we’re two parts of the same whole.

After a few more minutes, I shift, lifting myself up just enough to meet his gaze. "You don’t have to be all sweet, you know," I tease, though my voice comes out softer than I intended. "I’m not going anywhere."

He smiles, his fingers brushing against my temple. "I know," he says, pulling me back down to his chest. "But I want to. I like being sweet to you."

His words make my heart ache in the best way. I wrap my arms around him, holding him close, feeling his warmth seep into me. It’s quiet again, and I close my eyes, letting myself sink into the moment. I feel him press a soft kiss to the top of my head, his lips lingering for a moment before he settles back against the pillow.

"Are you tired?" he asks after a while, his voice low.

I shake my head, running my hand up his side, feeling the way his muscles shift beneath my touch. "Not really. I just want to stay like this."

"Good," he murmurs, tightening his arm around me. "Because I’m not letting you go."

We lay there for a while longer, wrapped up in each other. His fingers never stop moving, tracing gentle patterns along my back, his touch grounding me, reminding me that he’s here, that this is real.

Eventually, I break the silence, lifting my head to look at him again. "What are you thinking about?" I ask, my voice barely above a whisper.

He looks at me, his gaze soft, thoughtful. "Just… you. Us. How lucky I am."

His words hit me, filling me with a warmth that I can’t quite put into words. "I’m the lucky one," I whisper, brushing my fingers over his jawline. "I didn’t think I’d ever feel like this."

He smiles, leaning in to press a gentle kiss to my forehead. "Me neither," he murmurs, his breath warm against my skin. "But I don’t want it any other way."

I close my eyes, letting his words wash over me, letting myself believe them. There’s a vulnerability in moments like this, a kind of raw, unfiltered honesty that makes me feel closer to him than ever. It’s terrifying and exhilarating all at once.

He shifts slightly, adjusting the blankets around us, making sure I’m comfortable. His touch is gentle, reassuring, like he’s trying to tell me without words that he’ll always be here, that he’ll always take care of me.

"I love you," he whispers, almost like he’s afraid to break the quiet, but his words settle over me like a blanket, warm and comforting.

I look up at him, my heart swelling. "I love you too," I whisper back, my voice thick with emotion.

He pulls me closer, his hand moving up to cradle the back of my head, his fingers tangled in my hair. And in that moment, I know that this is where I belong—right here, in his arms, safe and loved.

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-Thank You For Reading!🩵🩶

-prettygirl-gabi🎀✨️

[spanktony]

REASSURE ME - rosita espinosa

summary: when maggie gets to touchy, you make sure you reassure your girlfriend in the best way possible.

words: 1k+

warnings: 18+, g!p reader, smut, oral, fingering, p in v, slightly jealous rosita

notes: took too long to post this sorry guys 😢

navigation. request.

"Where are you going?" Rosita asks, watching you put your belt on. "Maggie's been begging me to help her fix our crops," you reply, adjusting the buckle. "It's like she doesn't understand she left Hilltop to relax and get away from work."

Rosita chuckles, shaking her head. "Well, you've always been the reliable one when it comes to lending a hand. Just make sure you don't overexert yourself, we don't want you burning out like last time."

She gives you a knowing look, remembering the time you pushed yourself too hard and ended up sick for a week.

You hold up your hands in surrender, "Of course, my love." You reassure Rosita, kissing her on the forehead. "I'll be back home in an hour."

Although an hour and a half passes, you're not home. Rosita decides to leave the house and check up on you and Maggie, with water in her hand, worried about your well-being.

She hopes that you haven't overexert yourself again and that everything is okay.

Only to find you both laughing and enjoying each other's company. Rosita can't help but feel a pang of jealousy, wondering if you prioritize Maggie's company over hers.

Maggie squeezes your bicep, and you lift up your shirt, revealing your toned abs and jokingly flexing.

Rosita's jealousy raises as she watching the stupid smile on your face due to Maggie's reaction. She tries her best to hide her emotions, but deep down, she feels betrayed and insecure.

She wonders if there is something more than just friendship between you and Maggie, like lingering feelings that have yet to be explored.

Rosita walks up to you, and Maggie walks away to grab a nearby bucket. "Hey, love." You smile, wrapping your arm around Rosita's waist. "What's on your mind?"

Rosita hesitates for a moment but then takes a deep breath before speaking up. "I didn't know showing off your body was part of fixing crops."

She glances over at Maggie, who is now bending over to pick up the bucket to fill it with water. "It just seems like you're more interested in impressing her than actually helping out."

Your eyebrows furrow, and you release your grip on Rosita's waist. "I...I..." You let out a chuckle, a bit surprised by Rosita's comment, and lost for words.

Rosita rolls her eyes, slapping the water bottle against your chest. "Just forget it."

You take a step back, watching your girlfriend walk away with a slight frown on your face.

Hours pass, and Rosita is awoken by the bathroom door creaking open. She groggily sits up in bed, seeing you get dressed in your boxers and sports bra in the dimly lit room.

You crawl toward her, placing a gentle kiss on her forehead. As much as she tries to fight it, she can't help but melt into your touch.

"I'm sorry about earlier. I didn't mean to upset you," you whisper softly, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. "Can I make it up to you?"

Rosita looks into your eyes, her frown slowly fading away. You place a kiss on her lips, feeling her reciprocate it with a soft sigh. Without breaking the kiss, you push away the covers, resting between her legs and deepening the kiss with a small groan.

Your hands explore every inch of her body, tracing the curves and contours that you have come to know so well. The curves that you love due to the fact they mold perfectly in your palms.

Rosita had a habit of just wearing one of your oversized t-shirts to bed, and tonight was no exception. You lift up your shirt, revealing her bare skin underneath, causing a shiver of anticipation to run through both of you.

The cool air kisses her exposed flesh, heightening the sensations of hands and their exploration.

Parting your lips from the kiss, you lean in to whisper in her ear, "You look absolutely irresistible in my shirt."

Her cheeks flush with a rosy hue as she gazes up at you, a playful spark dancing in her eyes. The soft fabric clings to her curves, accentuating her every contour and making her even more alluring in your eyes.

You kiss her stomach, tracing a path with your lips that sends shivers down her spine. She arches her back, a soft moan escaping her lips, as your kisses continue lower.

Her breath quickens and her hands grip the sheets, her body yearning for more of your touch. You hold apart her thighs, teasing her ever so slightly before finally giving in to her desires.

Rosita lets out a low whine, your tongue dancing sensually against her most sensitive spot. The taste of her arousal drives you wild, fueling your want to please her even more.

You continue to explore her with your mouth, your fingers join in the dance, and if you weren't so focused on the sight in front of you, you'd see your girlfriend trying her best to stay quiet.

Her lip tucked between her teeth, head thrown back, and knuckles white.

Rosita's hips start to move involuntarily, grinding against your face as she loses herself in the waves of pleasure crashing over her.

"Baby, fuck!" she gasps, gripping your hair tightly as her climax approaches. Her walls tighten around your fingers, and her moans become uncontrollable, "I'm cumming.."

She lets out a primal scream, her body shaking in euphoria, and you revel in the satisfaction of knowing you've brought her to the brink and beyond.

Rosita lets out another gasping moan, feeling you sink into her without warning. Her eyes widen in surprise, but her body arches with pleasure appreciating the pleasant surprise.

"You're so pretty, baby. How could I ever want someone else?" You whisper, your thumb tracing delicate circles on her flushed cheek. Rosita's breath hitches as she locks eyes with you, feeling close to the edge already.

Her lips part, but no words escape, only small whines of pleasure as she desperately tries to hold back her release. You lean in closer, your voice husky with desire. "Let go, Rosita," you murmur, your words dripping with need.

The sound of her whimpering only grow louder as she finally surrenders herself to you and the amazing pleasure you bring her and only her.

[marwolaeth-76]

Hi (⁠ ⁠◜⁠‿⁠◝⁠ ⁠)⁠♡, Can you make a one shot of Veneer with a female reader, where the reader is also a singer (solo) but Veneer tries to get closer to her, in every possible way until at one point the attraction between the two of them is so noticeable that in interviews they begin to ask them about it, and in the end they start a relationship.

Hi!! thank you for your request and thank you for waiting, I hope you like it🩷 and I want to apologize for waiting request other people, I’m sick right now so I don’t have the strength to write😢

Veneer x !FemReader stars fell in love with each other

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

You take a deep breath as you walk down the halls of build preparing for your interview. Ever since your debut single dropped, your life has been a whirlwind. Fans, photoshoots, awards shows - it's all so exciting but also overwhelming at times. As you near the stage, you spot a familiar face in the crowd. Veneer gives you a small grin. Your heart skips a beat, you've been growing closer to the star singer over the past few months. Between running into each other at events and bonding over the pressures of fame, you've found yourself developing feelings for him. The interview goes well until the host notices your lingering glances at Veneer. "Soo tell me - are you two there is something between you?" Kid Ritz ask slyly, crossing one leg over the other, raising an eyebrow questioningly. You it’s hard to hide your nervousness, a chill of embarrassment runs down your spine, you should have guessed that such embarrassing questions cannot be avoided, people love drama, especially between stars. Before you can stammer a response, Veneer speaks up. "We just care for each other", -he says with a warm smile in your direction. "But for now, we're just enjoying each other's company and support as we both navigate this new chapter in our lives and careers." - His tone is calm, he must have planned this answer, it’s not just that he’s sitting among the audience? although maybe it's just a coincidence. His words are reassuring yet leave the door open for something more. After the show, you share a private moment backstage. "Before you think I'm a heartless ladies' man", - Veneer began to speak in his usual mannered voice. "I..I meant what I said earlier" - Veneer says softly, taking your hand in his. "You know? I really like you, It was already difficult for me to keep it to myself. Everything is happening so fast, I can’t say that I’m unhappy with it" To say that you are in shock is not enough to say, no, of course you dreamed of this, but to really have Veneer feel the same feelings for you as you do? You stand there like a real fool, staring at the guy with wide eyes for almost a full minute before coming to your senses, catching the slightly embarrassed expression on the singer's face. You beam up at him. "Um!..I like you too? this is so awkward, I'm sorry, Don’t get me wrong, I’ve really kind of... fallen in love with you for a long time.." Leaning in, your lips stretched out in an embarrassed smile, Your heart conquers the normal rate of beats per second, you pull the guy in to kiss him on the cheek. "Ohh only on the cheek?" - Veneer asks with a note of mischief, the slight nervousness left his face, although you could swear that his hand you were holding was shaking slightly, he looking at you with his sparkling blue eyes. Looking away slightly to the side, you shake your head, raising your eyebrows and answer excited: "everything has its time)" While love brings challenges, you're glad to face them with Veneer by your side.

♡♡♡

uhhh i really wrote little, srr, bad health does not allow me to think of something normally 😤

[pupyuj]

Mean dom wonnie and yujin/ OR MAYBE REI being the mean girl duo, top at their class and just happens to get interested in you, maybe g!p🗣️✨🎀 with an unnie kink✨

gonna do mean girls wony and rei bcs ehehe i don’t write enuff rei 🥺🥺😢💓 plus ya’ll do NOT want me to yap about mean girl yuj or else we’ll end up with a ycs-long rant about me wanting mean girl yuj to make up a horrible rumor about me and ridicule me in front of the entire student body and then break my glasses and laugh in my face about it… THE VOICESSSS 👹👹👹👹

anyways, pardon for the long author’s note but omg i rlly enjoyed this ask for some reason LIKE I HAD SO MUCH FUN WHILE WRITING IT 😵‍💫😵‍💫🤭 i couldn’t incorporate unnie kink at all bcs i completely forgot about it MY APOLOGIES I HOPE YOU DON’T MIND ANON 🥺🙏

mean girls wony and rei who scares everyone except you bcs you always end up being third best at the class bcs of them and so you absolutely hate their guts 😡 never receiving the praises you deserve bcs they hog all the spotlight as well as the top marks.. mean girls wony and rei who took an interest for the feisty academic overachiever you, (y/n), bcs they finally noticed you glaring daggers at them from the top of your book from across the courtyard benches one summer afternoon in the campus… mean girls wony and rei who take it to themselves to teach you a thing or two about respecting your betters 🤭✨✨

them somehow catching you studying alone in an empty classroom.. talking to you with fake smiles with an even faker tone of speaking, offering to help you review for the next week’s assessments which you refused quite rudely… and ofc wony wasn’t going to let that slide! 👿👿 here they were, offering you a nice way to finally beat them in the class and yet reject them?? in such a tone too?? you were just asking to be punished!

wony grabbing your chin harshly.. digging her nails in your skin before she stuffs your mouth with her fingers, daring you to speak to them like that again.. while rei’s off to the side recording all of this with her phone… ykw maybe you were shitting your pants bcs what the fuck??? “well?? you were so brave just a few minutes ago..” wony says, laughing as you gagged and choked on her long fingers 😵‍💫 rei spotting you eyeing down wonyoung’s hard-on.. “wony, i think there’s something else (y/n) would rather have in her mouth.”

“of course! fucking slut. come on, rei-yah. let’s give her what she wants and fill her up.”

ughhfhfhschcbcj rei occupying your mouth while wonyoung keeps one of your hands busy.. you completely forgetting that rei is recording bcs all of a sudden you were their little whore and all you wanted to was to please them?? sucking off rei so good that her normally soft moans are louder, her head thrown back while she uses her free hand to keep your head still, thrusting her cock into your mouth at a comfortable pace… “o-only learning how to.. ahh… cooperate with us when it comes to this, hm? we should’ve fucked you earlier. right, wonyoung?” rei grabbing a fistful of your hair from the back and forcing you to look at her while you sucked her off.. smiling as she looks at your pathetic face back and forth between on her phone and behind the camera 😵‍💫😵‍💫

meanwhile, wonyoung was burning hot—she wants to cum so bad!! she was rock-hard and throbbing, she must’ve wanted this for a while.. ugh she doesn’t know how the fuck you did it but even when you were mostly preoccupied with rei fucking your mouth, you still found ways to please wonyoung with your hand 🫣 more and more of her precum leaking and coating her length as you jerked her off.. toying with the head and making wonyoung whine, nearly making her cum even! and she does merely a few minutes later bcs poor baby couldn’t hold it! 😣 her cum spilling all over your hand and the side of your face.. a much, much better look on you than makeup if you ask wony 🤭 and rei adds to it too! cumming right after wonyoung and making sure to pull out just to decorate your face with her cum…

and then! surprising the two girls with a barrage of questions that they didn’t expect from your mostly polite mouth at all 🫣

“is.. is that it..?”

“y-you’ll.. fuck me, right? i want you both inside me…”

“please..? i-i’m good.. i promise, i am..!”

what the fuck?! who knew you can be such an obedient cockslut! and why would rei and wony say no to that cute face? best believe that they’d fuck you in turns and together for as long as you can take in that classroom! mean girls know how to fuck a good girl’s brains out after all 🤭🤭

[yourheart-inmyhands]

hiii! I’m currently crying because I really like the Tsaritsa but there’s no content of her! Like anywhere!! I know that you are very busy but please bear with me😅 I’m sorry if I’m bothering you btw 😢

what if Yandere!Tsaritsa has a lover who loves to cause trouble/hates the Fatui. It’s to the point she can’t maintain them, do you think she’ll ask her harbingers for help? Like have the 9th bribe them with money in order to keep them away from going on with their evil villain schemes 😈(just that they’re trapped in the middle of nowhere and don’t have much freedom..) or just have a harbinger check up on the Tsaritsa s’ s/o each once in a while

by the way, I feel like I may come here a lot (I normally do, but I don’t request) so can I be 👛 anon? 🙏🙏 thank you for reading, I know this was trashy (it’s my first time requesting 😭)

Hi i'm sorry it took a bit to get to this, i was worried about not being able to do good enough and wanted to make sure i could do your request justice! if you're still interested in being an anon for my blog i would love to have you :D

Warning: this post contains yandere-themes, including delusional behavior, implied being held against ones will, and other potential topics. Please read at your own risk!

While she isn’t against asking the Harbingers to get you under control, she prefers to handle you herself. The Tsaritsa knew what kind of responsibilities she’d be taking on when deciding she wanted you, and thus she tries to avoid relying on them. At first, she tried to mitigate any negative feelings between you and her Harbingers by having you attend meetings with her, Fatui-related events, and other such things, but she has quickly learned it’s better to leave you in your shared bedroom and deal with any attitude when she returns home. 

During times when she has to be away from Zapolyarny palace or outside of Snezhnaya and can’t bring you, she’ll task one of her dear Harbingers with your care. It’s usually Pantalone or Capitano, Pierro is generally too busy, Pucinella is too easy on you, and the others have quirks of their own that she doesn’t hold high faith in. 

Long, slim fingers brush through the strands of your hair, tucking back any loose pieces and fixing the parting as she mulls over a thought in her mind. The Tsaritsa knows she has only another hour or so with you before she has to set off again, leaving you in the capable hands of her dear Harbinger Capitano. She hasn’t yet broken the news to you, knowing you’ll pitch a fit that is better dealt with by giving you space to lash out. She’d chosen Capitano this time specifically because you’d been extra testy lately, plotting escapes and trying to fight some of the lower-ranked guards posted outside your door. The large man could take quite a beating and she was hoping he’d be up for the challenge of your care. “My sweet Snowball, I’ve neglected to inform you until this point, but I have to leave Snezhnaya for some time. A minor god has appeared in a nearby nation and sparked trouble, Celestia has requested I step in to assist in handling them.” Her fingers pause in your hair for a moment before pulling away, allowing you a moment to process what she has told you. 

As much as she hates to do it, she often lies to you about where she’s going or why she has to be out of Snezhnaya. The Tsaritsa knows of your dislike for the Fatui and their motives, but she cannot simply halt her plan because you are heartbroken over it. Thus, she often will tell you false information, playing the part of the darling Archon that Celestia expects of her, but only in front of you.

Really, she rarely leaves Snezhnaya, often traveling to different parts of her nation to handle difficult tasks that the calloused hands of her Harbingers are not capable of. She has on occasion ventured out of the controlled walls of her nation, daring to visit neighboring ones in search of valuable items or materials, but she prefers to stay in Snezhnaya. While she may be powerful and well capable of defending herself, she sleeps easier at night knowing that you are within the same nation as her.

[ilyalljasonsandnon-jasonsthesame]

Interactions I've had with my cousins + Batfam pt.2

Tim or Damian: *Making fun of Dick*

Dick: oh, kids, haha, am I rite?

Jason: *makes fun of Dick*

Dick: *lunges for the throat*

-

Dick actually considers putting Jason back in the ground when Damian holds his hand instead of Dick's to cross the street

-

Dick: Hey, Dami, can I have a gummy worm?

Damian: Sure :)

Jason: Can I have one too?

Damian: Of course <3

*Dick and Jason eat ONE (1) gummy worm each*

Damian: Bruce, can you buy me another bag of gummy worms? Dick and Jason ate all of mine 😢🥺

-

Dick never sees the adult table on the holidays because he has to sit next to Tim and Damian to make sure they don't kill each other or whoever's near them (and cut their food)

-

Steph: Dick! Jason's not letting me play foosball!

Tim: Dick! Jason kicked me!

Damian: Dick! Jason hit me!

-

*Tim and Steph playing kitchen*

Tim: *cooking*

Steph: *grabs some cutlery and leaves it on the counter*

Tim: hn *puts it back in it's place*

Steph: *plays with some toy food and leaves it on the floor*

Tim: HN >:( *puts it back in the cupboard*

Steph: *leaves "dirty" dishes on the counter instead of putting them in the sink*

Tim: Get out of my kitchen

(it's Steph's kitchen)

-

The ABSOLUTE HORROR that is taking all of them to the arcade (or anywhere for that matter, but it's harder to keep them still at the arcade).

Steph chooses a game first, then Damian, then Tim, then Cass, then Jason.

Steph

Pros: Understands that she has to stay close to Dick, has no problem holding hands, quick to choose a game

Cons: Chooses the racing games that 1) are only for 1 player, 2) are on the opposite side of the arcade of where all the other games are, and 3) take way too long

Damian

Pros: Has no problem sharing his game most of the time with enough convincing (and I mean games where you have to throw balls and stuff, so more than one person can throw a ball at the same time)

Cons: Does NOT understand that he has to stay close to Dick, WON'T hold hands, WILL wander off, takes AGES to choose a game

Tim

Pros: Quick to choose a game, chooses cheap games (not on purpose, but it's still appreciated)

Cons: Impacient, gets mad when it's not his turn, wanders off, complains A LOT

Cass

Pros: Considerate, patiently awaits her turn, won't complain about anything, keeps an eye on Steph at all times

Cons: WAY too considerate, you can never tell if she actually wanted that game or if she just picked it because it was nearby or because it could be shared, won't tell you if something's wrong, doesn't talk and always stays at the back of the group, so Dick has to make sure she's still there every 5 seconds

Jason

Pros: Can sort of manage himself, won't throw a tantrum if it's not his turn (because even he knows he's too old for that, not because he's above such behaviour), will obey Dick when it's made clear he means business

Cons: Wanders off because he thinks he is SO grown up and he doesn't need supervision, lets the others wander off, chooses expensive games, Dick has to make sure he doesn't take the arcade card because he WILL spend all their credits on his favourite game which is the most expensive BY FAR and only lasts like 10 seconds, WILL get pissy if he doesn't get as many games as the others

-

Part 1