#there's more to say on this but it's draining trying to get this out coherently and i have things to do. might come back to it later idk

[lazaruswitch]

that post from eveningdawn22 (I think??) about "not palatable (notably to tim) transfem jay" is only reassuring my ideas and thoughts for the lily todd au but in like a different specific-to-me and specific-to-this-au way

speaking from experience tim drake Would be weird about lily* (for context: lily as in lily todd, from an au where jay is a transfem Muslim, among other things)

this isn't like a character condemnation thing, this is me speaking from experience about what people are like about queer Muslims. (bruce would also be very Weird about it but i think the source would be first and foremost bruce/batman shit, particularly in relation to jay specifically, before we hit the like more general social aspects and whatnot)

people around here (new jersey, but also america in general) are just Like That. the white kids (esp rich white kids from those gated mansion communities or whatever) around here are especially Like That. i've been going to school with them for years and have even been "friends" with some (for a given definition of friends) and they all inevitably to some degree will be Like That. in fact the vast majority of the world is Like That, to varying degrees of severity, not just specifically because of the Muslim bit or the queer bit, but because of the two things together in one person.

(from my personal experiences, it's not always a malicious thing or an intentional thing, but it is inevitably demeaning and isolating in a particular way that's supposed to be acceptable and is brushed off as like, "people can have different political beliefs blah blah blah". microaggressions and the taint of Islamophobia and all that)

there are a lot of places and people that are theoretically queer friendly or push this idea of no prejudice, like my uni, but it's inevitably not actually that straightforward

(tim and tbh a lot of the batfam, or even superheroes/vigilantes in general, are or would be like that. not even your beloved heroes are immune to propaganda, overt or otherwise. jay is already basically a freak in canon. in the lily pot au, lily is a freak existence for arguably "worse" reasons. "crazy" white boy is vastly more preferable to transfem niqabi mom.)

there's a specific idea of queerness people have in mind when they talk or think about acceptance, and it's one that does not involve the majority of the real world or communities, and they react poorly when asked to confront that

none of this is new or revolutionary information or ideas; queer bipoc people, especially Black and Indigenous queer people, have been talking about their personal experiences with this for ages, and have been demanding attention and change for just as long

some people are receptive, some people are theoretically receptive, most people don't like confronting or acknowledging the status quo

but i almost never see those kinds of discussions about or from Muslims, especially Muslim women or hijabis (i specify this bc of the visibility of hijab)

if anything it seems like everyone is deeply uncomfortable with just Muslims existing in a way that is not in fact "Other", and having to think too hard about Muslims as people who can have similarities that Really don't fit certain narratives (e.g. devout hijabi who is also proudly queer) even "positive" ones is just so.... incomprehensible, and disgusting, to them

it's exhausting when even the blue-hair-and-pronouns cannot stand the blue-burqa-and-pronouns but everyone pretends that's like. fine. and acceptable. if they acknowledge it at all

tim drake would think lily todd was weird and freaky and he'd be with the majority on that

[thefunkfactory]

The Perfect Boyfriend

It had been a great night. Probably one of the best dates I’d ever been on, if I was being honest with myself.

Anakin was adorable—small, lithe, with those wide, innocent eyes and that effortless charm. He had this way of tilting his head when he laughed, tucking a strand of his dark hair behind his ear, and every time he did it, I felt my chest tighten just a little. I was a big guy, broad and built, the kind of man who turned heads in the gym. And yet, here I was, completely enraptured by this tiny, delicate twink, feeling like some lovesick idiot.

Dinner had gone perfectly, conversation flowed easily, and when I suggested coming back to my place for a drink, he agreed with a coy smile that sent a shiver up my spine. Now, we were on my couch, bodies pressed close, his lips warm and eager against mine. My hands roamed his back, feeling the subtle ridges of his spine through his tight-fitting shirt. His hands, smaller than mine, traced along my jaw, sending jolts of pleasure through my body.

And then—disaster.

It started as a low, ominous sound, a gentle vibration against my thigh. My brain barely had time to register what was happening before the smell hit me like a brick wall.

Thick. Pungent. Unholy.

It clawed its way up my nostrils, searing itself into my sinuses like a brand. I stiffened, my hands instinctively gripping his waist. He giggled softly, shifting on my lap. Another one slipped out, hotter this time, the scent intensifying like a bomb had just gone off between us. I tried to play it cool.

“Uh, hey… you, uh—you okay?” My voice cracked slightly, my brain scrambling for an exit strategy.

Anakin nuzzled into my neck, his breath warm against my skin. “Mmhmm.” Another burst of rancid air seeped into the space between us, curling around my face like an inescapable fog. I coughed, tried to turn my head discreetly, but it was too late. My lungs were already compromised. The stench dulled my senses, made my head swim. I needed to get out—needed fresh air, but my body wasn’t cooperating. My muscles, usually so reliable, felt heavy, sluggish. My tongue was thick in my mouth, my thoughts slipping through my fingers like sand.

“Y-you know, maybe we should—uh—should call it a n-night?” I mumbled, trying to stand. My legs wobbled. I sat back down with a graceless thump.

Anakin pouted. “Aww, but we were having so much fun.” He shifted again, and another wave of pure evil erupted into the air, wrapping around me, invading my very being.

I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to center myself, to fight against the growing fog in my brain. I was stronger than this. I was a man—a man. And yet… The warmth of the stink wrapped around me, seeping into my clothes, my skin. It was inside me now. I could feel my resolve crumbling.

Anakin ran a hand down my chest, his fingers tracing lazy circles. “Relax,” he murmured, his voice honeyed and sweet.

I tried to respond. Tried to say no, I need air, but the words wouldn’t come. My lips moved uselessly, my brain too sluggish to form a coherent thought. I was losing. Losing to the stink. And as Anakin snuggled closer, releasing another devastating blast that melted what was left of my resistance, I realized something horrifying. I wasn’t sure I wanted to fight it anymore.

A deep, primal part of me still fought—still clawed at the edges of my mind, screaming at me to resist. I was strong. I was disciplined. I wasn’t some dumb, brainless jock who let a pretty boy turn him into a drooling mess. But the stench… oh god, the stench.

Anakin’s farts had already battered my senses, worn me down like waves eroding a cliffside. Each breath I took dragged more of his stink into my lungs, dulling my thoughts, making my body feel heavy and warm. I was slipping, my willpower draining with every second I spent trapped in his cloud of corruption.

I groaned, forcing my hands to push at his waist, trying to create space. “N-no… I gotta—”

Anakin simply giggled, his soft fingers tracing over my jaw. ���Aww, don’t fight it, big guy. You were made for this.”

Made for what? My sluggish brain tried to process his words, but everything was getting harder to understand. And then he pulled out his secret weapon.

With a slow, deliberate movement, he lifted one leg and slid off his sneaker. The moment the shoe came free, a wave of concentrated, festering foot funk rushed into the air, thick and heady. My already weakened mind barely had time to register what was happening before Anakin—sweet, evil Anakin—pressed the inside of the rancid sneaker right over my nose.

I gasped in shock, inhaling a full, unfiltered lungful of pure, fermented twink foot stench. My brain short-circuited. It was over. The last vestiges of my resistance shattered like glass. My thoughts, my intelligence, my very self melted under the overwhelming power of his scent. The acrid, vinegary musk of sweat-soaked fabric and well-worn insole invaded every part of me, rewiring my brain, hollowing me out. Everything felt warm and fuzzy. Thoughts? Didn’t need ‘em. Words? Hard. Brain? Empty.

I let out a deep, dumb-sounding grunt as my body relaxed completely. My arms, which had been trying to push him away, instead wrapped around his tiny waist, pulling him in close. He giggled, knowing he had won.

“That’s a good boy,” he cooed, rubbing a hand through my hair. “You don’t need all those pesky thoughts. Just be my big, beefy boyfriend, yeah?”

I nodded, my heavy head lolling back against the couch. “Mmm… yeah… beefy…” My voice sounded different—deeper, dumber. Like my intelligence had leaked right out of my ears, replaced by an all-consuming need to obey.

“Good boy,” Anakin purred, shifting to straddle my lap. He let his sneaker fall to the floor, but the damage was already done. His scent had infected me, changed me. I wasn’t the same man I was an hour ago.

I was his now. His big, dumb, muscle-bound boyfriend.

It didn’t take long for me to settle into my new role. My old self—the strong, independent man who thought for himself—was long gone. Now, I was just Anakin’s big, obedient, muscle-bound boyfriend. I didn’t think much anymore. Thinking was hard. Anakin was much better at thinking than I was, so I let him do it for me. All I had to do was listen. And obey.

“Babe, go get me a drink,” Anakin would say, snapping his fingers, and I’d lumber to the fridge without hesitation, my body moving before my mind even processed the words.

“Rub my feet,” he’d hum, wiggling his toes in my lap, and I’d eagerly scoop up his reeking feet in my big hands, pressing my lips to his noxious feet as if worshiping a god.

I lived to please him. His happiness was my happiness. But sometimes—sometimes—that pesky little part of my brain, the last flickering remnant of the man I used to be, would stir.

Like the time Anakin told me to carry all his shopping bags through the mall. My biceps bulged under the weight of his endless purchases, and something deep inside me whispered, Hey, maybe this is a bit much… Or when he casually told me to massage his feet with my tongue. For a split second, my brow furrowed, my lips parting like I was about to say something. And every time—even the smallest sign of hesitation—Anakin would simply turn around, grin mischievously… and let one rip.

A deep, low brrrrrrrrpppffftttt would rumble from his tiny frame, a vile, noxious cloud slithering into the air and wrapping itself around my head. And just like that—poof!—any thought of resistance melted away. My eyes would go glassy, my jaw slack. The thick, putrid stench would flood my nose, creeping into my brain, softening it like warm butter.

Anakin would giggle, wiggling his fingers in front of my dazed, dumb expression. “Aww, is my big boy getting all fuzzy-brained again?”

I’d just grunt, sinking deeper into the fog, my powerful body going completely slack under his spell.

“Now,” he’d coo, booping my nose, “what were you saying, babe?”

I’d blink slowly, struggling to remember. Had I been about to argue? About to resist? No, that didn’t sound right. Anakin knew best. Anakin was everything.

“… Nothin’, babe,” I’d finally murmur, a dopey, love-drunk grin spreading across my face. “Just wanna… make ya happy.”

He’d giggle and pull me into his arms, pressing a soft kiss to my lips. “Good boy.”

And just like that, I was his again. Fully. Completely.

Obedient. Mindless.

Happy…

[buryhny]

One Night Stand ; 44 ⋆.

➥ rundown ; as if the unexpected twist of a one-night stand turning out to be your CEO boss wasn't surreal enough, the situation takes a more challenging turn when both of you discover that you're expecting his child.

→ genre ; enemies to lovers | CEO au | pregnancy trope | slowburn

☆ jungkook x y/n ☆ contains smut, fluff and angst ☆ chapter forty four ; wc | 8.8k

primarily on Wattpad

index ⇢ next chapter

Jungkook comes home looking totally wiped out, his eyes half-closed and barely able to stay open. He starts heading upstairs, probably thinking about a shower to relax. But that's not gonna work for your plan. You rush to stop him, not even sure what you're about to say. Whatever it is, it better not make him suspicious and mess everything up.

"Jungkook!" you yell, maybe a little too loudly-okay, it's more like a scream. He freezes, spinning around with wide eyes, looking genuinely freaked out. "What's wrong?" he asks, his voice full of worry, clearly not expecting you to shout like that.

"Uh..." you blink multiple times, looking around the living room, trying to scramble to find words, your mind racing. "Yeah?" Jungkook prompts, his tone soft and curious, a yawn slipping from his lips as he steps closer to you. "Like... um, I was thinking..." you stammer, your voice faltering as you try to piece together a coherent sentence.

He nods patiently, encouraging you to go on. "Maybe we could spend some time at the pool...?" you finally suggest, a nervous smile spreading across your face as you bite your lip, unsure of how he'll respond. He raises his eyebrows at your question, a soft sigh leaving his lips as he thinks about it. "Baby, I'm... tired, and as much as I'd love to spend t-"

"Pleaseeeee!" you whine. You really, really want this surprise to work, and it's just a matter of 3 hours. You hope you can keep him awake till then. You're gonna give your everything to make this work. Jungkook's eyes roam over your face, noticing how badly you want this-how much you want him to spend time with you. And honestly, he does too. Probably even more than you. But he's so drained, he feels like he could pass out any second.

You grab his hand, giving it a little squeeze, and hit him with your best puppy eyes. He glances at the hazel in them and feels himself softening instantly. With a quiet sigh, he thinks maybe he should give in. Just for a little while. For you. "Alright-" "Yay!" you mutter like a child, and he can't stop smiling at how cute you look and sound when you talk like a kid. "Can we go now, please?" He nods and walks with you as you drag him with his hand in yours.

"What about our clothes?" "We can get them later, come on." You both discard your clothes and place them on the chair. Jungkook gets in first, his body finding relief in the warm water of the pool. He helps you get inside, carefully. You both pick the corner and settle there. "I wish the water was slightly warmer," you say and play around for a bit. "Well... it can be,"

he gets closer to you and gives you a back hug. His warmth radiates to you, and you moan in relief. "Oh my god, how are you always so warm?!" He chuckles at this, placing his head on the crook of your neck, he softly sighs in pleasure. "It's not a good thing, you know? I'm always drenched in sweat." You play with his fingers, humming at his words, lightly tracing your fingers over his.

"I don't care. It's perfect right now," you murmur, leaning back against him. His warmth feels comforting, especially with the extra strain on your body lately. Jungkook's lips brush against your shoulder, not quite a kiss, just a gentle touch that makes you shiver despite the heat radiating from him. "You're always so dramatic," he teases softly, his voice low but playful.

You twist slightly in his arms, careful of your bump as you face him. "Oh, come on. You like it," you shoot back with a small smirk, poking his chest. He grins, his eyes softening as they flicker down to your belly for a moment before meeting yours again. "Yeah, I do," he says, his hand moving to rest over yours where it cradles your bump.

"You and the little one make everything better. Even when I'm dead tired." Your heart clenches, and you blink up at him, warmth flooding through you. "Jungkook..." But before you can say more, he shifts slightly, dipping you both just a bit deeper into the water. You squeal, gripping his shoulders tightly. "Careful! What if-" He laughs, the sound light and carefree, cutting you off.

"Relax. I've got you," he reassures, holding you steady, his other hand instinctively resting protectively over your belly. "Always." You smile and almost blush at his words. You love how he's so protective, even if he barely shows it, you know it's there, and it makes the butterflies inside you flutter around. The bond between him and the baby is just fine, and you know after tonight, it's gonna be better, better than ever and better than what you both have too.

Jungkook has made his mind; he's gonna ask you a few questions today, and he's not gonna back out. He needs answers to them, and he also wants to tell you about the conversation he had with your mother. You've got the right to know, he wants you to tell him your point of view. The night is so nice, calm, and chill. The water is just warm, and having you beside him is everything he needs. It's quiet, and since you're not facing Jungkook,

you don't know what he's doing. You assume he must be asleep since it's been a really long time, and he's too... quiet. But he's not. He's deep in his thoughts while his fingers play with yours. You're worried about the time. Your eyes keep looking at the clock, and time is so fucking slow. Why is it just 11pm? There's an hour more to waste! If Jungkook decides to go to his room and you can't find any excuses, you're just gonna let the surprise begin.

Jungkook thinks that this might be the best time to ask. It's quiet, the both of you are close. Should he speak? On the other hand, you don't want this surprise to be... too much of a surprise. Whatever you have planned can be too much to consume, and even though you're ready for everything, is he? Should you make things easy and slow? "Y/n-"

"Jungkook-" The both of you speak at the exact time, and it's left you both in a giggly mess. Since he's got his hands wrapped around you, your body jiggles when you laugh, and it's goddamn cute when not just your boobs but your bump is bouncing too. "Fine, you go first," he says, and you shake your head, gesturing him to go first. "Ladies first! So you tell me."

You chuckle and nod. You turn to face him, hands wrapping around his neck. He looks so good with his hand down and wet. His arms flex as he wraps them around your waist, while his eyes look at yours and dive in. "I was thinking..." you begin. Your fingers push his hair away from reaching his eyes, and he already feels something. You take a deep breath.

Your eyes don't leave his, and his don't leave yours. It's like you both know what's coming next, and you're anticipating it. "You were thinking...?" He murmurs softly as you bite the inside of your cheek. "I was thinking... maybe we should give ourselves a name?" you say, your voice hesitant. He knows exactly what you mean-he's been waiting to bring it up too. His eyes brighten at your question, and he fights back the urge to grin widely.

"I've been thinking about that too," he admits. "Have you?" you reply, your tone anything but ordinary. It's not direct or loud; instead, it's soft and teasing, each word drawn out with a sensual lilt. Your fingernails lightly graze his skin, and the smile you give him is completely different-teasing, playful, and way too much for him to handle right now.

"So... what are we now?" you ask, your tone making his stomach churn. He feels like he's spiraling. He didn't expect this, not when you're both stuck in the pool, the cold night air biting at his skin, and your touch making him shiver for entirely different reasons. Oh, and he really needs to pee. "This is so bad," he mumbles under his breath. "Bad?" you repeat,

raising an eyebrow, obviously amused by his misery. He tries to focus, forcing himself to meet your gaze. "I mean... aren't we already a lot? Do you really think we're stuck in some teenage hormone kind of thing?" You burst out laughing, and he swears it's both humiliating and endearing at the same time. "Obviously not," you say, shaking your head.

He relaxes-just a little-but the way your eyes soften keeps him on edge. Because you're both definitely not in that giddy, first-love phase anymore, but you're also not in that really old, comfortable stage either. You both still feel the butterflies... a lot.

"I don't think I love the idea of calling you my girlfriend..." This offends you, visibly. Jungkook sees the frown sitting on your forehead when he says it, but he didn't mean it that way. The lines on your forehead deepen, and he swears he wants to hug you and tell you that he's so sorry.

He fucking loves the idea of calling you anything! Girlfriend? It's nothing! You attempt to push him away, which then breaks his avatar, cause he immediately pulls you back to him and gives you a big hug, laughing inside your neck. "Leave me!" "I'm "I'm sorry, baby, that was not what I meant!" "You're mean! Leave-leave me!"

You try to pull away from him, but his grip is too tight that you can't do anything but punch his arms and chest with all your might. "Darling..." He cups your face and looks at you, admiring you. The pout, those eyes, the wet cheeks, and hair. Fuck. His eyes bore into yours, like he's giving his soul to you when he says this,

"The girlfriend tag is too boring for someone as special as you. You're my world. You're the stars that light up my dark sky, the running waves that bring life to my plain oceans, you're the warmth to my coldest nights, the melody to my quiet moments, and the spark that keeps me alive. You're not just a part of my life-you're the reason it all makes sense."

He whispers. Your heart stops-not in the metaphorical sense, but literally. Your breathing deepens, matching his, as though the air itself has grown scarce. It feels like neither of you can breathe on your own, drawing life instead from the soft exhales shared between you.

You thought you could only ever find these words in books and movies, but here you are, standing so close in front of this man, who's uttering each and every word for you, which seems like it's taken out of a Shakespeare poem, and he expects you to... take it in? Heck, you can't even believe your ears. So, Mr. Jeon is not only a CEO, he's also a poet?

"Jungkook-come with me." You don't say anything, you don't give an answer to his words, neither do you recite a poem of your own for him. You tap his shoulder, only saying one thing, "Come with me." He doesn't understand why you didn't give him any reaction. He wanted to kiss you and-just spill everything out, but here he is, helping you out of the pool and getting out himself.

"Towel-" He hands you one and you wrap it around yourself, holding his hand, pulling him with you. He's confused, yet he walks with you, following you like a puppy. After his confession, you don't think you can keep it all to yourself now, whatever the time it is, you're showing him your surprise, you're confessing and doing everything that's planned because you. can. not. wait.

"Y/N, slow down-" He doesn't want you to slip on the stairs, especially with water trailing down your body as you hurry up. You lead him to his room and stop in front of the door. He watches you, puzzled. "There's something I want to show you..."

you say, and he nods, though the crease in his forehead remains as he studies you. Your eyes flick between his, and you keep licking your lips in anticipation-something he definitely notices. His head tilts slightly, skepticism flickering in his dark eyes.

"And I want to tell you... a lot." The crease between his brows deepens, almost ridiculously so, as if he's trying to solve a puzzle only you understand. You inhale, steadying yourself. This is it-you think as you take a deep breath.

"Is everything okay? Are you-" "Shut up..." you whisper under your breath, not wanting him to ruin the moment with worry. You're so nervous, God, you don't want to mess this up. You open the door and walk inside, gesturing for him to wait. The room is dark, the lights haven't been turned on yet as it's waiting for you to do the honors.

"Y/N..." He calls you out as you disappear, then you turn on the light in the count of 1... 2... 3. "Happy birthday... to you..." You walk towards him with a cake in your hands, candles lit up, and there you come, wearing a silky robe in a rich mauve color.

"Happy... birthday to you..." you whisper-sing as you walk closer to him. The curved gold candles and the black icing covering the heart-shaped cake are so close to him right now. He's standing right in front of it, his eyes don't believe what he sees, his face carries no expressions.

You hold his hand and bring him inside the room that has been decorated in red, rose petals sitting on the bed, the floor, and every couch of the room. He had never thought he would come home to this someday. "Make a wish..." you mumble, biting hard on the insides of your cheeks because you can see how taken aback Jungkook is.

He looks like he's going to cry, and you love that. He looks at the cake, closes his eyes, and makes a wish before he blows on the candles, and the fire vanishes away.

"This cake is no ordinary birthday cake..." you begin.

"This has something really special inside." Jungkook swallows a lump in his throat as he listens to you, he can feel it in his veins, he knows what it is...

"Here... cut it." You set the cake down on the petal-covered ground, your fingers trembling slightly as you reach for Jungkook's hand, guiding him to sit beside you. The mix of anxiety and excitement is nearly overwhelming, but you force yourself to stay composed. The silence between you is thick, heavy, and it unsettles you-because the last thing you want is for him to cry.

"Go on-" you begin, but he cuts you off.

"We do this together," he murmurs, pushing the knife aside. Instead, he reaches for the two glasses on the counter. You watch as he picks them up, his movements deliberate. Of course, you can't drink whiskey, so you made sure to have a bottle of soda just to match the mood. And now, here he is, bringing both drinks over so you can cut the cake together, side by side.

He takes a deep breath as he looks at you, his eyes flicker to your bump, then the cake. The goosebumps on his skin rise and he can't word this, but he's so over the moon to know what's inside the cake. You both squeeze each other's hands tight, shutting your eyes as you flip the glasses upside down and press them into the black-iced cake.

The glass slides in so easily, sinking all the way down. Your breaths are heavy, the moment thick with anticipation-until a small giggle slips from you. And then, his does too. Slowly, you pull the glasses out.

"Ready..." you whisper. "Yeah," he mumbles, and you both open your eyes. But before you even get a good look at the color, you hear the glass slip from his hands, crashing onto the floor. Then, in the blink of an eye, Jungkook throws himself at you, arms wrapping around you so tight you almost topple over. He's crying. No-he's full-on sobbing, holding you like he never wants to let go.

"Oh my god-oh my god-" he keeps chanting, voice all wobbly and breathless. You laugh, confused as hell. "Jungkook, wait-let me see the color! I didn't even-"

"It's a girl!" he practically yells. "It's a fucking girl! Oh my god-I think I'm gonna pass out-" His grip on you tightens, face buried in your shoulder as he shakes with emotion.

You blink, still processing, because out of all the reactions you expected from him... this was definitely not one of them. He's crying, a river. He's unable to breathe, his nose and ears are red, his cheeks are so pink, the tears flow down so much, it's... it's overwhelming.

They don't just fall-they pour, soaking his cheeks, dripping onto your skin, his breaths coming out in these choked, uneven gasps like he can't even get enough air. His nose is red, his ears too, and his cheeks are flushed such a deep pink that it almost looks like he's feverish. He's crying a river. An ocean. A storm that won't stop.

You feel his fingers digging into your back, clutching at you like he's afraid you'll slip away. His whole body is shaking, his chest heaving against yours as he tries-fails-to catch his breath.

"I-" He tries to speak, but his voice breaks apart, shattering into another sob. He pulls back just enough to look at you, and god-his eyes. They're glistening, glassy, completely drowned in tears, but they're also filled with something so raw, so devastatingly pure, that it steals the breath from your lungs.

Your eyes search his face, unable to grasp his reaction because it's just not what you expected. You laugh at his reaction because it's too emotional to handle.

"You-" He swallows hard, his lips trembling, his entire face contorted with emotion. "You don't get it... you don't even get it," he chokes out, shaking his head, his fingers tightening against you like you're the only thing keeping him grounded.

You cup his face, wiping at his tears, but they don't stop. They won't. "Jungkook," you whisper, feeling your own throat tighten, your own eyes sting. He lets out this wet, broken laugh, his forehead falling against your shoulder as he grips you even harder. "She's real," he whispers against your skin, voice trembling, words barely even there.

"She's real, and she's ours." And just like that, your own tears spill over.

You nod at his words, his palms hold yours that cup his face, as he leans to place a kiss on it.

"She's ours..."

You whisper and place your forehead on his. Both of your tears mix as they fall on your bump. She's real, she's yours, and she's his. She's everything you both didn't want to, owning the two of your worlds.

Jungkook places his palm on your tummy, rubbing it, feeling it. He just can't believe you're carrying his little girl, his child, his baby, his family. You wipe away his tears, admiring his rosy face. He looks adorable—you could kiss and cuddle him all night long, but you've planned something else. And as much as you would love to talk about the little girl all night long, you don't want to forget about his birthday gift.

"Jungkook..." you call his name, and he looks at you like a lost pup. "Don't you want your birthday gift?" "I thought this was—" "This is one of them. The real one's... right there." You present yourself to him, and his lips part before he cracks up into laughter.

"No, you're not—" "I am the gift, it's me!" The both of you laugh together. "But aren't you tired—" "Jungkook..." Your tone shifts, the playfulness fading, and he sees it immediately. His smile falters just slightly, his eyes scanning your face. "Don't worry about me. I just want to give you the best birthday I could, and... I really wanna do this for you. I think I can feel it. As I'm getting closer to the due date, I can feel it being different now and—"

"We don't have to—" "I want to do this!" You cut him off, your voice soft but firm. "I'm just telling you that since it might get difficult later, I want to have all the sex I can tonight, and the best excuse is it being your birthday." you chuckle, and the sound is light, playful, easing the tension. He laughs too, shaking his head, the weight of the moment softened by the humor between you.

"You're crazy, you know that?" But there's warmth in his eyes, a kind of understanding that goes beyond the words, as if he knows exactly what you mean. "Tell me something I don't know, honey?"

You brush your fingers under his chin, pulling him for a kiss with stupid smiles on each other's faces. Jungkook cups your cheeks as he pulls you into a deeper kiss, your hands wrapping themselves around his neck. You're so glad no one apart from the two of you lives in this house—the messy, sloppy sounds of the kissing are far too loud, and if someone heard you two, they would surely think you're on a mission to unalive the other with a makeout.

Jungkook taps on your thigh, gesturing for you to climb on his lap, and you do. He very carefully pulls you up and lifts you off the ground, taking you to the bed. "Hey—are you good?" he questions in between the kiss, asking if you're comfortable as he lays you down.

You're quick to nod, then get back to kissing him.

Jungkook takes a moment to look at you. You look so gorgeous, he can't take his eyes off you. And that silk mauve robe—you look divine, angelic, and he wishes you'd wear that every single night. Not only does it look comfortable, but it complements your skin tone and makes the bump look sexy too. He thinks he might need some help right now.

You look at him while he admires you with a smirk on his face. "Whatcha looking at?" you ask, and his eyes flicker to yours before focusing on your body again. "You did this on purpose, didn't you?" he questions, his eyes dark as he watches you raise your eyebrows. "Of course I did. I had to look tastier than the cake."

This breaks his character of being a serious, horny guy. He chuckles, but you don't. You're so in character—which he loves. You're just so confident. God, he didn't know he loved girls like you. "And you do. The cake isn't as delicious as you look." "Okay, stop! That damn cake is delicious, you just didn't try it yet!" "Baby, let me take a taste of you first."

He unties the knot of your robe, letting the silk glide effortlessly down your body. He had seen you earlier at the pool, but now, with him hovering over you in the dim lighting, the bed adorned with rose petals, and red helium balloons floating against the ceiling, the atmosphere feels entirely different—intimate, enchanting, and undeniably seductive.

His voice is raspy, and those eyes... those eyes... you're so excited, you know you're already a wet mess. But Jungkook is such a tease—the way he lets his lips place soft kisses on your skin, trailing down your body.

"Oh my god, Jungkook, stop teasing and get into it." He chuckles. You're so impatient. You've always been, and it's kind of a bummer because he really wants this to go the whole damn night—no rush, just slow, so you both can feel it, feel it real good.

"Baby... my birthday gift, yeah?" A brow raised at you as he asks you this very obvious question. You heave a sigh, rolling your eyes at him. "Yeah, yeah, birthday boy."

"Then do this boy a favor and listen to him.... give him the best gift ever... mm?"

He gives you a pout and widens his eyes. "Fine, take your time." You give up, and that was all Jungkook ever wanted. He gently strips the wet black clothing off your body. It's sticking too much to your milk skin, and he wants to get it off you right now. You push yourself off the mattress so he slides the garments from your body.

You're naked under his gaze. You're raw, and you feel so comfortable. You love how you can be yourself with him—there's nothing to hide, nothing to feel insecure about. Because Jungkook doesn't see you the way others have—like just another woman.

He looks at you as if you truly matter, as if you're someone irreplaceable. And you love that look—the way his eyes hold you like a muse, a siren, a fawn. He's so deeply in love with you, and tonight, he knows it's time. He's ready to confess, to lay everything bare—to tell you, to show you exactly what you mean to him.

Jungkook presses his lips to your own, your jaw, your neck, your collarbones, your breasts—and that, that's something else. He'd never really been a boobs guy—always more into ass—but God, you're perfect. Fuller, rounder, fitting so effortlessly into his large hands like they were made to be there.

He's in awe, completely wrecked by the sight of you. He thinks—no, he knows—you're the sexiest you've ever been. Sure, back then, when he first laid eyes on you, you were a total model, the kind of woman who made the world feel like it revolved around you. You had him hooked from the start.

But now? Now, you're something else entirely. Better. The best.

His hands feel like they're on fire just touching you, every inch of you radiating something almost too powerful to handle. Pregnancy has done something to you, something he never could've imagined—but damn, he's never wanted you more.

He places a wet kiss on the top of your boob first, then made his way down to your nipple, just to place one there, but he couldn't resist. He can't control his crazy male hormones when you're just right there, those nipples so erect and just staring back at him, waiting to be suckled on.

So he does. He sucks on them while his hand works on the right boob, making sure to pinch gently, even though you want him to just wreck you.

"Mmf." The moans the both of you make are loud. Jungkook doesn't even hear you moan because he's so focused on sucking you out. He feels a sort of milky taste on his tongue, which he pushes away, but when the taste gets so prominent on his taste buds, he realizes you're lactating. This makes him pull away, taking a moment to check on you.

"Hey... I thin-" "It happens, I give birth later this month, remember?" He frowns, yet his fingers momentarily move their way to your buds. "But I thought it only happens after you give birth?"

"Women are a wonder," you say, and the two of you giggle. He gets back to doing his thing, making his way now to your bump—your very, very grown bump. He places a kiss there, visualizing an image of himself placing a kiss on the top of her head. Her. Oh god, his child is a daughter. He pushes this away because if he thinks about it one more time, he could possibly ruin a very sexually heated moment with a crying outbreak.

Jungkook makes his way down to get between your legs, placing a kiss right at your inner thighs, then at your entrance.

"Jungkoo-"

"Yes, baby, I'm getting there," he murmurs as he slows his further kissing and decides to take some action. He places two fingers at your clit, scooping up the wet liquid that runs down to the bedsheet, leaving a beautiful stain.

"So wet," he mumbles under his breath as he coats his fingers just enough to allow him to slide in effortlessly. You're disgustingly wet, and it shows because you're swallowing his fingers whole, clenching for more.

"More... please."

"On it, baby."

He carefully allows his other fingers to join the party. You're so good at taking him that he has all of them inside you in no time. Maybe this is good practice for you, he thinks. Your lovely mewls and moans fill the room, and it has just started. There's so much he's got to do—god, you can't even imagine.

Jungkook pushes his fingers inside, curving them in a come-hither motion, rubbing against the perfect spot that brings out all the sweet whines and cries. Jungkook's towel is long gone; he's left in his very wet boxers that don't help because the air conditioner doesn't just make his neck hair stand—it's so cold that it makes his boner shudder too. Not that he didn't get one because of you, of course, it's you, but the cold environment isn't helping. He's shivering and is in need of warmth. He wants to be inside of you so badly, yet he makes himself suffer just because he wants to.

He looks at you very carefully with his dark eyes. He notices each movement, each sound, and every change in expression as he moves. He just knows what he has to do, where he has to hit, how long, how fast, and how deep. Jungkook puts all his effort in. This isn't just sex to him; this is a whole procedure of love and care for you. He wants to treat you right, and most importantly, he wants to keep you happy.

"Jungkook—please."

"Please what, bear?"

You're squirming under his hold and crying. You're about to cum, and it hurts—hurts so good. He knows it's time. He feels the tight clenching around his hand, he knows exactly what he needs to do—to hit you right there again and again. His right hand isn't just laying around; it's working too, on your little bud, making this climax just another level of heaven.

"I'm gonna cum," you mumble, and he nods, his hand leaving your clit for a second to give you an encouraging pat on your thigh.

"You can do this, baby. Come on, cum," he mutters, which is totally the opposite of the magic his hands do. They're going at a monster's speed, yet his voice is like he's baby-talking to you.

"Come on," he comforts you as you feel the gush on your lower belly form. Your eyes shut at the feeling of pressure, with him hitting that spot and circling around your bundle. The pressure stops, and the pleasure takes over. You let out a groan, your body shivering at the feeling of heaven. Jungkook pulls his hand out of you and gives you reassuring rubs to your hips.

"You okay, baby?" he whispers, and you nod with a smile. "I'll get you a gl-" "I need you right now, or I'll go crazy," you mutter. Jungkook looks at you with a soft smile, but you're not having it. "Fuck me right now!" you say louder, which makes him laugh. "Calm down now, we don't fuck, okay? That's not what we do."

"What do we do then?" He gets closer to you, carefully hovering over you, admiring the features on your face. "You and I..." he starts. His sticky index finger points at your chest, then at his own. "We... don't fuck," he whispers. "We make love. And that will always be what this... is about." He shakes his fingers back and forth. "You and me, we make love. No fuck and all that bullshit. That's not... for you. God, not you,"

he murmurs, his voice carrying this seriousness as he speaks. Like he's telling you he's not playing these games. The 'fuck me' times are gone. Him and you are different. It's not a game. You're not anyone else, and whatever you both have is not casual.

You look up at him, his eyes sparkling with love. "Understood?" You nod, at which he smiles and places a kiss on your lips, then your cheek. "I'll get the condom-" "No..." You hold his hand, not wanting him to go. "No condom, please," you pout, and he sighs, thinking about it.

"What? Your load has already given us a child. There's no need for a stupid plastic that didn't even work the first time," you say, rolling your eyes, making him chuckle. True that, though, the flimsy plastic didn't work anyway. Here you both are, though... glad that it tore.

Jungkook laughs and gets back on the bed. Plus, he loves it raw, so win-win.

He sits between your feet first, prepping his member by stroking it. You would love to do it for him with your own hands, but you don't want to move an inch—you're tired and lazy. When it's erect and perfect to slide in, he hovers over you carefully, trying the missionary position because he can't just hover over you right now when that damn belly is super huge. He doesn't reach your face like he usually would, and he hates it, but this will work... for now.

He places it at your entrance, sliding his finger inside and prepping you too. "Go in, Jungkook." "I'm doing it," he says, putting his shaft inside, allowing a slow moan to leave his lips. You're so wet that he slides through easily, even though you're tight.

"Fuck..." you moan, gripping the silk sheets tight since you can't hold his arms. Jungkook is careful—he slides in and out slowly. He knows you like it faster, but he's scared. "F-Faster, please," you mutter, and he adjusts his speed. But somehow, he isn't hitting you right, and you can't break his heart, but you need to tell him.

When he doesn't hear from you, he asks, "All good, baby?" "Jeon—stop."

You need to tell him that this isn't working. You feel good but not too good—not the way you want it. And you both are open, right? Open to talk? So you tell him. "It's not working," you say, and he immediately pulls out. "No—that's not what I meant," you soon say, because you know that his first thought was that he's hurting you.

He examines your face, trying to find more words because, clearly, you should've told him at the beginning. "What is it, darling?" He comes closer to you, cupping your cheek to check on you.

He's worried, and you find it cute.

"Did I hurt you, or was I—" "You were fine..." you calm him down, his face flushed red. "I just... want to try a different position? This... wasn't it."

You whisper, and he nods fast. "Sur—sure! Of course! What do you want to try? We can do anything. You wanna... maybe um? I don't know—what's the best pregnancy sex position? Let me check Cosmopoli—"

He's freaking out, trying to find his phone, which, by the way, is all the way downstairs. You just want to kiss him right now, so you do—pulling him in for a chaste kiss that makes him confused. "Calm down, babe." He sighs as he looks at your palm that sits on his chest.

"I just... want you to enjoy." "And I want you to enjoy more. The birthday boy deserves a treat, sooo..." You slowly sit against the headboard, placing a pillow before moving to the center of the bed. "I want you to sit right there and let me ride you."

He frowns, surprised at your instructions but also excited as you're dominating him now. he's always loved how you can just control him. "Go on," you say, pushing him to sit where you were, and he does. You part his thighs, and almost instantly, his softened length begins to harden, which makes you bite back a giggle. His boner is so hard at this one action, he's embarrassed—his face flushes crimson.

You crawl to his lap, and Jungkook helps you sit carefully. "Hold me here." He guides your hands to his shoulders, as if you need direction. You scoff, tilting your head.

"I'm a pro rider, don't teach me, Jeon."

"Well yeah, pardon me for caring," he mutters, making you chuckle. You hold his length, placing it right at your center. He's begging for attention—so red and hard, he's waiting to be swallowed by you. And you don't hesitate.

You don't even bother to make him beg because you're way too impatient. Jungkook grips your waist, steadying you in place.

A deep groan rumbles from his chest as you sink down, and the moan that escapes your lips is so raw, so deep—his length hitting that spot so perfectly, you nearly come on the spot. Jungkook did not expect this to be so damn good, and he loves it because you're in control and whatever you do not only feels good for him but yourself too, and that's what he wants the most.

He can't even look at you because he feels so good that he drops his head back to the bedhead and moans. He's not just vocal but loud in bed too, and that's such a turn-on; it shows that the man is enjoying it, and you love that about Jungkook. You loved that the very first night too. His grip on you tightens, and you're sure it would leave marks, but you don't care.

He places his head on your chest, sucking and kissing on your open collarbones that stare at him to be marked. Jungkook has always been one to mark territories, and he's never done them before, you know? Like marking random women, he does that because he likes how it looks, but he's never had the intention to 'mark'—he'd only ever done that to women he liked or found to be... something. He'd done it to you too, the first night.

He likes to think that he leaves imprints on hot women so people know that they'd been played with, only that you never allowed him to leave open hickies, so he only ever did it on your boobs the first time, but right now... there's no need to mark, there's only need to love, and these aren't hickies anymore, they're love bites now, and he doesn't suck the shit out like he used to, even though the rougher the better.

He's now sucking, kissing, and making sure that you wake up with beautiful art on your skin, like he'd left his paint on your empty canvas, like a lover's ink so you know he's always with you. Even if the ink fades away, he's gonna keep it alive, not just on your skin but your soul too.

The both of you are breathing so heavily, the room is so cold, yet here you two are, poured in each other's sweat, love, and sex. You're going so fast, you're hopping. If he wasn't so deep in the mood, he would've called you a bunny. You're so into this, you don't even realize Jungkook crying in pleasure.

The both of you are waiting to release, and he knows just how good this is gonna be that he does not even stop you. Your breasts move along the sloppy, messy beats, it's so attractive, this body that you own. See how he thinks, 'you own,' because he doesn't think he owns you. Sure, he loves to think that you're his, so what's yours is his too, but he can't 'own' you.

You're not a doll, you're not his toy, and he loves that he sticks to his feelings whenever he thinks about you. He loves how he feels differently for you because when he fucks some other woman, he loves to say "I own you this night," but with you... truly, you own him.

Not just his body, his heart, his soul, his breaths, and not just today or tonight, every day, every hour, and every minute and second. If anything, it's you who own him. Never the other way around.

"Jungkook—" "Baby, let me cum." "Cum all you want—" "Inside you?" "Fuck yes."

Your grip on his shoulders has surely created bloodstains, and his grip on your waist—purple. "Fu-fuck!"

The two of you cum at the same second. You can't breathe, neither can he. His head lays on your chest, and you place your chin on his head. The two of you take your time to breathe in the oxygen, instead of each other's sex and moans.

Jungkook hugs your waist, although... it's slightly difficult to hold you completely. He hears your heart beating so loudly, it soothes him; he could sleep any minute, but he doesn't. Not until he says what he's been holding on to for the longest time.

"Baby..." he whispers, to which you hum. "Baby, I wanna—" "It feels weird when you're all soft inside me." You cut him off, which makes him chuckle, but he doesn't pull out or move.

"Baby...." "Yes, Jungkook... I'm listening, tell me." You let your fingers play with his hair while he mumbles his words, even though it's kind of incoherent because his face is glued to your chest. "Baby..." "That's the fourth baby in a row—" "Y/n—"

"Baby is fine." You say it, and he laughs immediately, the sound filling the air. You can't help but giggle too, your chest rumbling with the soft vibrations. Your fingers scratch his head, soothing him to fall asleep, even though it's quite sticky down there, and he really needs to clean you up so you don't feel sick. It's cold too, and you're naked. He doesn't want you to catch a cold or anything.

"Baby..."

"Yes, babe." You know he's gonna doze off any moment because he sounds raspy, he sounds like he's drunk, he'll pass out any second.

"Baby... I—"

"I love you~"

You say, cutting him off completely as you whisper the three crazy words. Jungkook stills, he stiffens, his heart stops, his breathing slows down, and he visibly freezes. You don't... your fingers keep moving through his hair like you didn't say anything, but inside you're dying. The silence fills the room.

Jungkook does not know what to say because you said it before him. He pulls away from you; he meets your smile, not your eyes, because they look down, like you're nervous, like you've said something you weren't supposed to, and it slipped out. Jungkook frowns, he looks at you, stares, waiting for you to look up at him and... do something, but you don't. You just play with your fingers, looking down. He then tilts his head down. The words in his mouth are stuck; he doesn't know what to say either.

"What?" he whispers... he couldn't even hear himself speak. You gulp as you keep looking down. You don't even know why you're acting like this. Jungkook tilts your chin when he figures you won't look at him. You glance at him and look away when he settles your face right at his.

"Baby... what did you say?" he asks, but you're suddenly shy... you've become someone you don't even recognize.

"Y/n... did you really say it?" he can't believe what you uttered, only because you did it without a warning. Maybe you figured he was gonna say it—that can't be possible.

"Y/n—"

"I said I love you, okay? I love you so much, and I can't keep it to myself anymore. I keep delaying it, waiting for the perfect moment, and I think this was it. I can't hold it in any longer. I love you, and I want you to know that, and I don't want you to say it back because I just did so... please don't do that." You mutter all in one breath, releasing what you had been caging in for weeks.

Jungkook is awestruck, he does not know what to do because you just told him not to say it back, and of course, he wouldn't say it back just because you did, because that's not the case. In fact, he was gonna say it before you, but you blurted it out so randomly without preparing him, which made it come out as a shocker. He can't contain his happiness, but he's so damn taken aback that he doesn't know what to do. So, he just looks at you without blinking while you pout, looking away from him.

"Don't—don't look at me like that..."

"Like what?"

"Like you want to marry me..."

You whisper as a joke, and that damn word breaks his entire self. He doesn't even know what to reply to that. He's lost all his words. All of them. So, he smiles, the one that shows off his little dimples. Yeah—that one. He scoffs, then looks down at your bump, watching it for some time. He... so badly wants to say it too, the three magical words, but so much has happened this night. He thinks he'll save it for another day, besides, you told him not to say it. He might make you mad by doing so, that's why he opts for it.

Jungkook nods his head, then caresses your thigh.

"Shall we shower? Together?" he asks, and you nod. Carefully and slowly, you move from his lap, and he holds you as he gets out of bed and helps you get to the shower. He tells you to sit on the toilet lid until he fills the bathtub so the bath could be relaxing. It's already quite late, and Jungkook decides to take the day off. He's gonna make the most out of his birthday.

Until the bathtub fills, he wraps you up with a towel and wears his boxers, cleaning the mess on the bed so you both can walk out of the shower and jump right on and sleep. When the water is warm enough and the bubbles have been made, he sits down inside and gently makes you sit between his feet. You moan at the feeling of the warm water, resting your head on his chest and closing your eyes.

"That good?" he asks, and you nod. You both just stay there for some time. He caresses your arms as he presses his cheek on your head and looks at the walls.

"You know... when you said that, I... froze," he says, being open about what he felt that moment.

"I know, I felt it... that's why I—got awkward, I guess."

"No, my love. You don't ever have to be..." His hands gently cup your breasts as he speaks. "That moment was so special to me that... I just wanted to grasp it in, you get me? I wanted to take it into my mind, heart, and I just wanted to hear it echo in my head."

You smile at that. He's such a poet, you never thought he could say such stuff so easily, like he's written a book of words, and he's by hearted them and is using it on you.

"I don't want you to think that you could've waited longer or that this moment wasn't perfect enough. Because whatever moment you chose to say it, it becomes perfect already. Every moment is special and perfect to me when you're there.... you just have to be there," he murmurs, as he places a kiss on the top of your head.

You feel so loved right now. You can't even say it in words. It's like he's created this new emotion for you, like a Kookie flutter or some shit. Because you don't even know what you're experiencing right now. Happiness? Excitement? Love? That's all cliché, lame shit. You've experienced these with him every day, but today? Tonight? It's something else. Just look at the way he's talking to you right now? That's unreal.

"You talk so well..." He giggles at this. You tilt your face to look at him. "Just know that I've never spoken to anyone the way I do with you." "You're a poet."

"Guess love changes people,"

he mumbles yet another sentence that takes away your heartbeats. "Don't make me hop on you in this bathtub." He laughs. "Turn around, let me clean your back." "Shampoo my hair too—" "No, you're gonna get sick," he says firmly, knowing you can get stubborn about silly things. You pout and play with the bubbles floating on the water.

"I'll wash your hair in the morning, okay?" he asks, placing a kiss on your shoulder, though it was soapy. The shower was lovely and relaxing; you needed it for the longest time, and he gave it. You spend extra time, just staying in the water with your back meeting his chest.

"I think I want a home delivery."

"Takeout? Sure we c—"

"No..." you laugh at him. "I meant birth, I want a home birth," you tell him. This has been in your mind for a long time, and with some research done, you think this would be the best option for you, even with its risk. You want this.

He frowns at your words and looks at you. "How?" Confused, he doesn't really know what that means. All he's ever known is you give birth at the hospital, and that's it.

"Water birth... but I don't really know if it's safe enough. I liked that option more than the hospital." You've read about it, and it sounds nice; even the procedure doesn't scare you like the ones at the hospital do. As a matter of fact, you've obviously been feeling nervous about delivery, and if an option makes you feel comfortable and less anxious, you might want to go ahead with it.

"You think so?" He asks, "Yeah, but we have to talk about it with the doc and... the expenses and all—" "That's not your worry. If everything is safe and you want to do that, we'll do it. I'll make arrangements for it. Just... let's discuss this when we both are fresh," he tells you, and you nod. Jungkook places his arms protectively around your bump, feeling it. "She's good?"

"She's great. Feel her, she's right there." You place his hand on the side of your belly, a hump-like thing, strong, sitting on the edge, almost popping out. "That's her head, it's quite heavy on this side. She's probably sleeping, been a good girl the whole night."

"Well, she knew it was her dad's birthday—" You soon turn to look at him. "You wanna be called dad?" He hums, closing his lips tight, thinking about it. "Haven't really thought about it, I just said it... depends, what do you wanna be called?" "I'm confused between mama or mommy."

"If you choose mama, then I'm papa, and if you choose mommy, then I'm daddy." "But you should choose what you wanna be called." You whine that he's choosing this according to you and not his own liking. This makes him giggle, his palms rubbing your bump softly under the water.

"Then I think Appa... I just— I like papa too, but also maybe Appa?" Your features soften at his words. Of course, he would want his baby to call him by his native language. The way he hesitates, stumbling over his own emotions, makes your chest tighten. He's trying—trying so hard to hold onto the parts of himself that feel like home, to pass them down to the little life growing between you. Even though he has never had a home before and hadn't had someone to call Appa.

You swallow past the lump in your throat and reach for his hand, placing yours on top of his. "Appa, then," you whisper, watching the way his eyes flicker to you. "She'll call you Appa."

He smiles like a silly teenager. "Come on, let's get out of here, you need some sleep." He gets out of the bathtub, wraps a towel around his torso, and helps you get out too, wrapping a towel around you gently. He helps you wear your underwear and puts a camisole on for you. You look silly because camisoles looked very sexy on your pre-pregnant body and now... the beautiful bump sits.

"You look so cute," he mumbles when he catches you looking at yourself a little bit too long. You giggle and jump on the bed with him. He pulls up the fresh blankets to you and slips in. "Where's the personal space?" you joke when he gets close to you, spooning you and kissing your neck. "Down the drain," he mutters, making you laugh.

"God, I'm tired," he whispers under his breath as you draw circles on his palm that cups your breasts. "Good night, Jungkook..." "Night night," he whispers as his eyes close. The cold air, the fresh sheets, and of course, the cuddly you lull him to sleep.

"Happy birthday, baby," you whisper, making him smile as he places a kiss on your shoulder and snuggles further into you.

"Best birthday ever, god i just love you~"

next chapter ⇢

hey guys!! i hope you enjoyed reading this chap, i was super nervous about the smut but i hope it's fine...? anyways lemme know! and i post on wattpad way earlier than tumblr because wp is my primary platform so i apologise if this update took time to be posted here.

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ִ ࣪𖤐 taglist ; @spreadmysushi . @jiminismine4ever . @jungshaking . @jkoooooooookie . @juikmon . @naurnonope . @melslear-blog . @rpwprpwprpwprw . @nemelkawar . @blueberriesm . @jennelle . @mintedagustd . @majesticjung-97 . @rinkud

[screampied]

Can you do Kinji Hakari making shy reader not be ashamed of her moans by making her squirt😏🙏

Btw, you’re doing god’s work by blessing us with the works of underrated minor characters🙇‍♀️

❤︎ ໋𓈒 hakari making his shy girl squirt

warnings. fem! reader, praise, squirting, reverse cowgirl, breath play, overstim, mdni.

“ya gotta learn how to relaaaax, sweetheart,” he purrs in a soft raspy voice. you were so close up against him — his chest practically pressed up near your back. forever entangled with his warmth, his shaft buried right between your walls. riding him in reverse, yet except you were smushed right up beside hum. hakari brings a rough hand towards your hips, guiding you to give him yet another mind-boggling orgasm. “i know, girl. ‘s coming close isn’t it? she’s gonna make another mess right up on me.”

you moaned, puffs of his breath fanning against your earlobe. hakari briefly nibbled on it before chuckling.

he found it cute how just a little trail of his fingers skimming down your thighs made you drench even more. your grip was tantalizingly deadly to him, for a moment it makes his jaw tighten. you felt an orgasm approaching, yet this time it felt a bit different.

“ha—kariiii,” you’d drag out. he smiles, watching you desperately try to conceal those sweet moans from his ear. although to him, it was one of his favorite things to listen to. the sound of your voice, it made him throb any day. “feel somethin’ else, fuck.”

his slit eyebrows furrow before he chuckles to himself. within an instant, he knew what that something else was. hakari wraps a bulky arm around your neck gingerly, another hand reaching down towards between your legs. “ooh,” he whispers against your ear, and you whimper once he brings a hand towards your clit to give it a few playful smacks. “you gonna squirt on me? dirty girl,” and then he hums before setting your hips in place with one hand. “say pretty please though. if you wanna be filthy, ya gotta have manners, no?”

you were babbling at this point, mere sounds of straight coherent babbles spewing out of your spit glossed lips.

it was adorable, the way your head jerked back against him — your legs were sprawled a bit, and your breathing significantly hitched. you were chasing your breath, feeling that familiar feeling rise up inside of you.

with stupidly crossed eyes, you felt your tongue gradually loll out of your mouth. hakari chortles, bringing a hand that was just rubbing against your cunt and brings his fingers into your mouth. without question, you taste yourself. “such a sloppy mouth,” he groans, feeling you nearly drain his balls out.

he was incredibly hefty too, slamming in and out of you . . yet you were doing all the work. at least, you were trying to.

your legs were just about ready to give out and hakari was guiding your hips to its inevitable release.

“damn girl,” he’d suck in a breath, feeling the way you used your hips to slowly grind against him. your rhythm, it was so sensual — so smooth. it had his mind going for a loop, his touch sent shivers down your spine entirely. “i wanna hear you,” he murmurs, pulling his now dampened fingers out of your mouth. a pretty cobweb of spit exits out of your lips in the process, and with hooded eyes, you moan. “get a little louder for me.”

such sweet whimpers coax out the back of your throat, and you’re so sensitive. his fat cock reached everywhere, in spots that had your knees practically bucking.

unhurriedly, you continue to shift your weight against him — pant after pant sliding past your lips. “gonna m-make a mess,” you’d sniffle, just feeling yourself start to tremor. your cunt was so vocal too, squelching out little noises of itself. it was an entire lewd site.

the smell of hakari’s loud yet intoxicating cologne scent filled up your senses every few seconds. each time you thwacked against his back from your movements, you’d take a quick whiff and get wet simply from how good he smelled.

he brings two rough hands towards your waist again before nipping at your neck. “show me how messy you can really get then, princess,” he utters in a low tone. you felt your cunt throb at his words, the way he delivered it. the raspiness that hid underneath it and all. you whined, feeling yourself building up.

oh, the build up of it all.

it had you weak. by this point, your walls were being dragged through and through. you had so much leverage in this current position, although you couldn’t see his face — you’d bet money he had the biggest smug expression imaginable.

hakari always loved your tempo, it wasn’t too fast or too slow. it was just right.

he’s nearly out of breath himself, but he keeps composure. unlike you, you were just about ready to burst. the entire angle of it all too, he reached so deep. his rounded tip lightly thrashed against your cunt each bounce you made. you rode him until this current point to where your knees were just about going limp. not so much your knees but the entirety of your cute thighs.

he likes to trail a finger down the outline of your back while you ride him. with this view, he enjoys this glimpse — your tense back muscles lightly moving in the same motion of your thrusts against him. with a sly lip bite, he drags a hand between your legs again.

“come on girl, don’t hide those moans from me.” he’d purr against your ear, and he consciously makes you slow down with an arm wrapping around your waist. hakari’s body heat that radiated on you made you ten times more coddled up in your own warmth. with his fat tip brushing against your g-spot, you whimpered before feeling a sudden gush.

he was stuffed deep into your cunt, and the moment you squirt it was so lewd. a salacious experience everything, it was a lot. you were ten times more embarrassed now, feeling yourself dampen him even more with your slick arousal.

“k-kari,” you’d huff out, and the sensation was indescribable. he pauses for a moment before nipping against at your neck. “oh my godddd.”

“such a messy girl i got here,” he’d whisper in a husky voice — two lengthy fingers going straight towards your slit. with his dick still hidden inside of your folds, he pulls out and watches the mess pour right onto him. “good girl,” he huffs out, watching your entire body tremble as a response. the orgasm made you swallow thickly, yet you craved more. hakari skims his fingers on the outside part of your pussy before spreading it open with a sly smile. “a bit too messy though. should make ya clean my lap up with that pretty tongue of yours.”

[vxlvted]

Hi. Sorry, i wasn't sure what your specifics were for requests, so feel free to say no.

I had an idea of skz members, either written as headcanons or as lee know or chan maybe, where they have a reader with they/Them pronouns but female anatomy.. get off on their thigh or something? Sorry, I'm autistic and have really bad anxiety, so I might be phrasing things completely wrong. Thank you, and I hope you have a great day! :)

riding the edge

synopsis: after a long day, you seek comfort on Lee Know’s lap

tags: gn!reader but described with afab anatomy, smut, thigh riding, use of minho instead of lee know (as most of my fics probably are. is that a warning? idk), barely proofread

a/n: sorry it took so long to get this out—

It starts innocently. You’re curled up on Minho’s lap, legs draped over his as he lounges on the couch. His arm is wrapped around your waist, thumb slipping underneath their shirt and rubbing your hips.

It had been a long day, one of those days. Your boss had been a power trip all morning, dumping tons of last minute assignments onto your desk with a forced smile, saying, “it shouldn’t take too long.” But it take long, because half of the team members you needed to help with the paperwork were all unavailable.

Then there was the coworker who was constantly hovering over you while you worked. offering nonstop advice that sounded a lot like passive aggressive criticism. By the time you got home, your head was pounding and all you wanted to do was crawl into bed and forget about today.

But the moment you walked into the door, he murmured, “Come here,” and you felt too drained to protest. So now, here you were. Sat into his lap, your head tucked beneath his chin.

It was your usual wind down routine when things got too hectic at work. Minho wasn’t big on using words to comfort but he knew exactly how to ease the tension in your body.

But something feels different. Maybe it’s the subtle flex of his thigh beneath you. Or the way his fingers fidget with the hem of your shirt. You try to shift, adjusting so you can find a comfortable spot, but the friction when you drag your core over his thigh sends a sharp jolt up your spine and you freeze.

“Mm?” Minho tilts his head to make eye contacts “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing..” you murmur, you feel his hand slightly squeeze your waist.

You try to shift again, less for comfort and more because the feeling is starting to spread further through your body. The firm muscle of his thigh presses exactly where you need it and despite your best efforts, a small whine escapes you throat.

“Oh..” His smile deepens me he looks at you with amusement as he realizes.

You open your mouth to protest but his hand presses harder on your hip, encouraging you to move once more. You breath stutter as your hips move with his hand, grinding down onto his thigh.

“There you go,” He hums, he loosens his grip on your hips and gaze darkens when you slow down. “Don’t stop now.”

You squeeze your eyes shut in embarrassment but move your hips once again. The rough denim of his jeans presses against you clothed clit just right, the feeling of his hands lingering on your side only makes the sensation sharper, you can’t help but let out a quiet moan.

“Shh,” Minho coos, fingers sliding beneath your shirt to gently rub your burning skin. You let out a shaky breath, lifting your hands to grip his shoulders. He flexes his thigh, the muscles tense beneath you and you choke on a moan.

“You like that?” he whispers, lips brushing against your ear. “Getting off on my thigh like this?”

Your face burns and you nod, unable to form coherent words. His hands slides down to the curve of your hip, guiding you into a more controlled rhythm. “So messy..” He murmurs. His lips drag over your jaw, pressing hot open mouthed kisses to your skin. “Making a mess on me, baby.”

You feel a knot form in your stomach, his thigh is firm beneath you and his hand are unrelenting as they guide you back and forth against him.

“You gonna cum like this?” His voice sounds so calm compared to the way he’s roughly grinding your hips down against his thigh. You whimper and your fingers dig into his shoulders through his shirt. You can feel yourself right on the edge, then, one of his hands leave your hips. Sliding down in between your thighs, his presses to fingers firmly against your clit.

“C’mon…” he whispers “let go for me,”

You body trembles and pleasure crashing through you like a wave. your thighs trembling around him and he holds you through it as you desperately grind to chase the last few sparks of your orgasm while Minho slowly rubs his fingers back and forth against your clit.

When you finally slump against him, he bring his hand up to rub your back. “Feel better?”

You nod weakly, still catching your breath. But then he shifts beneath you and you feel his hard length press against your thigh. You lift your head from his shoulder and look at him with wide eyes.

“What? Did you expect me not to get hard form that?” He chuckles. His fingers slip beneath the waistband of both your pants and underwear. He runs his two fingers through your wetness and you whimper.

“Were not done yet,” He murmurs, his voice dangerously soft.

Taglist:

If you’d like to be put on (or taken off) the taglist, feel free to let me know

@yaorzu-blog | @pixie-felix | @compersian | @tshyn | @kittenchaos2024

dividers from @/saradika-graphics

[ivoyzzz]

my hero

synopsis: kang no-eul doesn’t have much to look forward to in her life, but what she does have is a library. a place so quiet and serene that her problems slip away the moment she steps in. she could get lost in the words on the pages. that was until - she spotted a cute stranger in distress.

warnings: fluff wc: 1.3k

a/n: i need her chemically omg shes adorable and i had this idea brewing..xoxo ivy

kang no-eul walked into the quiet and warm bookstore. the bell ringing as she pushed open the door, darting to the horror section. this section never failed her, unlike the thriller section which occasionally there would be a waste of a few hours. no-eul liked reading horror, it always reminded her that even if she has it bad, it could be worse.

her fingers trailing across the spine’s of the horror books. “read that, read that, and oh that.” no-eul mumbles tiredly. maybe it was time for her to find a different hobby, instead of sitting in this dim library, reading every horror book that laid on the shelves.

then a red book catches her eye, she tugs it off the shelf, the bold black print catching her eye. she shrugs half-heartedly, walking to her usual spot: a small, comfortable, and brown chair. no-eul lets out a sigh of relief as she takes a seat, the tension in her shoulders fading slightly.

she was tired. no, she was exhausted. no-eul wears that hot bunny suit, all day, 6 times a week. she’s frustrated and upset, but most of all she’s drained. whenever she’s in the library, it's one of those rare moments, she can just breathe. no-eul doesn’t have to worry about getting to work, going to sleep in her car, just her in this library. her library.

no-eul opens up the book, biting her chapped bottom lip, in concentration. she gets through about half the book, before she decides to call it a night. she stands up grabbing her bag and just as she’s about to put the book back on the shelf, something catches her eye. a girl, you. sitting by herself, papers and notebooks scattered everywhere around.

your sitting on a little couch on the side of the library. the book is one required for your english course, and safe to say the most complicated book ever. your eyebrows furrowed, as you try to understand the hidden metaphors and themes.

no-eul looks at you, she doesn’t know why, but something about you draws her attention. she shoves the book back on the shelf, walking around the bookshelf to glance at you from the side. nobody is usually here at this hour. no-eul's curiosity seems to be getting the better of her. her gaze lingers on you as she walks around the shelf, trying to make sense of the strange pull she feels. the quiet of the library amplifies the tension in the air, and it’s clear she’s both intrigued and a bit cautious.

as you drop your pen away from you, you let out a tiny groan. when you go to pick it up, you see a hand extended towards you, holding the pen in their palm.

as you meet eyes with this stranger, you see it’s a girl about your age. a very attractive girl, for that matter. her hair falling right on her shoulders, eyes sharp but have an almost soft gaze on you. you take the pen, trying to form a coherent sentence. “thanks..” you mumble, eyes locked on hers. no-eul gives you a soft nod, bringing her hand back to her pocket.

no-eul wants to walk away, really she does. she’s tired and wants nothing more then to sleep the day off. but something stops her - the exhausted and drained look, that’s on your face. she knows that look, she wears that look everyday. what kind of person would she be if she didn’t help the tired pretty girl?

no-eul clicks her tounge, eyes darting down to book you hold. no-eul was a lot smarter then she got credit for. “can i see?” she says, voice raspy after not using it for a while. you, of course, nod. why would you decline much needed help from this insanely attractive girl?

no-eul takes the book and the seat next you. “i’ve read this before, what do you need help with?” she hands the book back to you gently. “i have a paper due about the message that author is trying convey. clearly, it’s not conveying very well to me.” you sigh leaning back against the couch.

no-eul just lets out a soft hum, she picks up the rubric for the paper. her eyes glancing across your face, she could tell that you pretty much rather do anything else. “what’s your name?“ you ask the girl who just totally saved you. “no-eul. what’s your name?” she asks, repeating your question, her voice gentle. you tell her your name, and she hums having to pull her eyes away from you to get to work.

the two of you work on the paper, no-eul trying to guide you in the right direction without doing it for you. no-eul finds her gaze lingering on your face for entirely too long. your gaze lingering on her hands.

the night passes by, the air conditioner turning on and off. the only reason the two of you stop, is because the librarian tells you both it’s closing time. no-eul helps you gather your stuff walking out silently behind you. hands stuffed in her pockets.

“please let me buy you food, you’ve helped me so much. it’s really the least i can do.” you say, practically pleading with her. if she hadn’t helped you, you would’ve probably gotten frustrated and gave up.

no-eul hesitates, but she can see how you probably won’t give up till you convince her. but she wasn’t going to pass free food from this sweet girl. “okay."

you give her a smile walking to the nearest 24/7 convenience store, those being the only things open. the automatic doors sliding open, “pick out anything you want seriously, i owe you everything.” you smile at her. no-eul looks at you, giving you a small upside-down smile. it was awkwardly adorable.

after you pay, the both of you sit at a table outside. the quiet night is peaceful, not needing any words. as no-eul takes slow bites, her eyes remain on you. she can’t help but fixate on you. the way your hair falls down your shoulders, the way your lips up-turned every time you took a bite. no-eul saw something in you that was taken from her a long time ago. it made her want to protect you from all the scary things in the world. she knew you were perfectly capable of taking care of yourself, but she couldn’t help it.

“thank you again for the help.” you mumble breaking the silence in between bites. no-eul nods, “it was nothing, i enjoyed it.” no-eul’s eyes weren’t on your eyes, they were on your lips. the cute girl you met at the library, was staring at your lips? after she had helped you with an seemingly impossible paper, no-eul was a gift.

“if uh.. if you ever need help again, i’d be happy to do it.” no-eul says, making her move.

“really?” you smile, sliding your phone across the table. “give me your number. so i can contact you, ...for help.” you said the last part sounding unsure. did you want help in future? yes. did you also just want to give no-eul your number? also yes.

no-eul types in her number, handing your phone back. no-eul could feel her hand graze yours, as you took the phone back. “what if i want to just see you?” she swallowed, not breaking eye contact with you.

“i’d like that, i’ll text you.” you murmured, the tension in the air thick. your brain feeling fuzzy from her gaze.

“hope to see you soon, pretty.” no-eul says, as she stands up, a hint of teasing in her voice. when she says this, you swear your heart actually dropped. where was this side of her when she was helping you with your paper?

no-eul disappears into the dark night, leaving you standing there confused and flustered. it only left you wanting more, from your pretty hero.

[thirstydemisexual]

Blood path || Jason Todd x vampire!reader

Prologue

divider by: @sister-lucifer

PSA: the povs will switch from second to third person as convenient. also I'm writing this as I go so yeah the pacing between the parts hopefully will be coherent

warnings: 18+ content, mention of r4pe, blood, a p3do getting what the fuck he deserves, (and bad grammar)

I've made mistakes, Lord struck me down Caught in a landslide, lost underground I hear them gates, swing open loud Come close to midnight, hell fade me down - Used To The Darkness by Des Rocs

The night was young. As the last shades of orange had just dissipated in the sky, Gotham prepared itself as their usual over abundance of criminals took to the streets. Some of them tho, were busy browsing on the internet, unlucky them.

Phil, 38, child predator who escaped Arkham a couple weeks prior, sneaking away as the Bat and the other heroes took care of the bigger fishes, was browsing on the dark web, looking on his phone at his favorite source of inappropriate child videos with a fist down his pants.

The abandoned building in which he resided, which was once an apartment complex before a villain attack, was located in a rather well populated zone of Gotham. Only two streets down from The Wayne foundation preschool.

Unlucky for him, his connection wasn't the most secure. Even a high schooler with basic computer science knowledge would have been able to dox him.

The dumb fuck didn't even try locking the door, not like it had a functional lock to begin with. But non the less, she still wouldn't be stopped by a mere lock as that men's refuge wasn't his home, thus the threshold didn't bound her. She was able to sneak into the premises without as much as a sound.

She was hungry and her face was morphed into an inhuman shape.

He doesn't even have time to scream or fight as her fangs sinks in his neck, tearing his carotid artery. Long claws shredding up the skin on his forearms as he tries to reach to stop his attacker. He stops squirming in seconds as she feasts on his blood, draining him in mere moments.

After she's done she quickly leaves the building, ready to go home and wash her hands and mouth throughly as just the mere thought of having touched that individual, let alone feeding from him, in her post feeding shame(and because of than mans nature) made her regret her choice of feeding.

Although she would never regret ridding the world of scum like him.

It was a weirdly sunny day in Gotham, Jason Todd noticed as he turned off the engine of his motorcycle after parking in the Gotham University parking lot.

Last night patrol had took a tool on him, and he was more exhausted than normal. He threw his book bag on his shoulder before entering the building, toward his first class of the day.

Jason normally quite enjoyed his Modern Literature class, but today all he wanted to do was crush on his bed at his safe house and sleep away until patrol hour came.

He sat down in one of the last rows in the room and crossed his arms on the desk before laying his head down and closing his eyes, he couldn't wait for the day to be over.

"Slept bad?" a familiar voice came from his side. Jason lifted his head up, a little smile at the realization of who it was.

"You could say that" His eyes didn't leave you as you sat down next to him and started to get your stuff ready for class.

"You could have skipped class today Jay, you seem way too tired to be here"

"And miss the chance to have our daily banter, no way miss" he replied, smirk on his face. You couldn't help but roll your eyes.

"Seriously Jay, you can't keep coming to class looking like a zombie"

well technically I am a living dead so its not that out of character for me, thought Jason but didn't voice it out to her.

"I'll take a nap between classes alright? Come on, don't act like you wouldn't miss me if I were to go back home"

"You're incorrigible Todd"

"I don't hear you denying my claim" he kept smirking at you, you shushed him as the professor started class.

"Just rest your eyes, I'll give you my notes later" he chuckled a bit as he put his head down on the desk again,

"You'd be a light saver sweetheart"

If you could blush, the nickname would have done it. You tried to stay concentrated but your gaze would often stray onto Jason's figure, slumped over the deck, neck slightly exposed.

Looking so appetizing

You mentally slap yourself as you divert your eyes. That is Jason, one of your only friends NOT a charcuterie board.

You took a deep breath and tried to calm down. You didn't know why but even after feeding the thought and sight of Jason Todd just riled you up, hunger rising through your undead body and plaguing your mind.

Hopefully you'll keep being able to control yourself around him.

You have to

TAG LIST: @deimks , @amber-content , @deans-spinster-witch , @that-one-goblin , @snowy-violet , @thenightwingnerd , @zffhahaa

Ask in the comments to be added to the taglist

[hotchnersangel]

ACCIDENT

Aaron Hotchner

————-

cw: DEATH. Last confessions of love, implications of a stabbing, blood lots of blood.

a/n: bit sad but idk what physically dying feels like bc well… im alive? So sorry if this doesnt meet ur standards xoxox

—————

Accidents happen, whether there is any intention at play or not- they happen. It isn’t in control of anyone, just simply a matter of fate. It would be easy to blame an accident on a person, a feeling- anything really. Though, deep down, you know nothing could have happened to stop an inevitable mistake. Yes, there will have been ways to prevent an accident from happening and yes, it can be frustrating but ultimately, mistakes are unforeseeable, difficult to predict and harder to accept.

Which is why Aaron’s heart ached so drastically at seeing you on the floor. He could have prevented it, if he had known what was going to happen. But, he didn’t and he couldn’t accept that.

During a case, you had an altercation with an unsub which left him running away, but not far, eventually the team caught him but had been greeted with him telling Aaron that they were “too late to save her.”

Thus sent the bau panicking slightly, as you were the one missing member. When they found you, in a cruel way, they wish they hadn’t seen you in such a way.

Your body was sprawled out on the floor, a deep gash against your side, under your arm- at the point your FBI vest had failed to cover. You were swarmed in a pool of your own blood, surrounding your body like a blanket of irony. The things that made you survive were surrounding you. The blood, now the bau, Aaron.

They all swarmed your body, Aaron the first to reach you. He completely disregarded the blood around you and grabbed you gently, pressing his hands roughly and firmly over the cut. You flinch with the little energy you had left.

“Sorry, I don’t want to hurt you. It was an accident.” He reassures but presses no further. The blood clearly had been drained from your face as you lay floppy against the floor. Your eyes were just open enough to catch sight of him.

“Aaron-“ you try say but you’re interrupted by a round of coughing as your lungs burned and blood treacles out your mouth. You hear a distant shout for paramedics.

“Stay with me,” he shouts, lifting half your body onto his lap, looking down at you worriedly. “Keep your eyes open baby, you’re so strong.”

“M-ed” you mumble, your head falling to the side.

“Tired.” You repeat yourself, coherently this time. Though, you sounded more exhausted than you were looking.

“Keep your eyes open for me.” He repeats sternly.

“I don’t think I can A- Aaron.” You look up at him, your whole body in a flush of pain and tingling sensations. Your ears rang so loud and your head began to spin as everything suddenly you were under a spell of hyperawareness.

“You can, baby. Come on.” He repeats, holding your cheek and you look up at him, seeing the tear fall from his eye. You try lift your hand to his eye, but you aren’t strong enough. You were currently clutching at the straws of your life.

He grips your hand and brings it to his face, ignoring the blood from both your hands on it now.

“You’re-“ you face a shortness of breath and suddenly regret not doing cardio. “So… beautiful.”

Aaron lets tears fall from his eyes as he looks at you. “So are you my sweet angel, come on… keep holding on for me.”

“I’m barely holding on.” You whisper and he rests his forehead to yours. “I am trying.”

“I know you are sweet angel, i know you are.” He whispers back, losing hope every second the medics don’t arrive. “I love you so much.”

“I love you back. Forever and always.” You smile tiredly at him. “I’m sorry.”

“No, I’m sorry.” Aaron pulls back and stares at you, sniffling.

“It was an accident. It was not your fault.” You get out slowly, growing weaker every last minute.

“Come on, stop bleeding.” He sighs shakily, pressing down on your wound.

“A bandaid won’t fix it, will it?” You try joke but have no effort to laugh just allow a ghost of a smile to caress his lips.

“Is it okay if I give up?” You whisper, your eyes being dragged close.

Aaron let out a sob and looked over at you, seeing the state you were in and nods silently. “I’ve got you.” He doesn’t move his eyeline from you once, afraid he won’t be taking every last moment with you. He pulls you tighter to his chest now, fully into his arms as your head rests against his shoulder, his forehead close to yours.

“Everything is going to be okay.” You mutter with your eyes close. “I am always… with you.”

“I love you.”

“Fall in love again.”

“I love you.”

“Smile more.”

“I love you.”

“Live for us… both. I love you.”

“I love you-“ a sob cuts through his body as your eyes fully close and the weight of you feels like nothing. You were simply a shell of who you once were. Simply just a body that Aaron loved so much, that he kissed upon and worshiped but you were more than your body to him, he was in love with you. With your heart, your soul.

And now you were torn away from him, left to cradle your shell in his arms as he let out wails of gut wrenching sobs that broke everyone in the vicinity’s hearts.

The team were already crying at the loss of a member but seeing their anchor, the heart of their team, the guide and directioner break down after losing the light of his life made the situation feel a lot worse.

Minutes blurred into hours and eventually Aaron was torn away from your body, forced to watch a crisp white sheet rest over the top of your face.

It shouldn’t have been you. It was never supposed to be you.

From that day onwards, Aaron Hotchner was never complete. He lost a part of himself the day you left him and he forgave you, praised you for being so strong but he never was truly himself again. No matter how hard he tried to live, you were the oxygen part of breathing for him and without you, he was slowly suffocating.

[sweetbans29]

Friendship Bracelets - CC

Pairing: Caitlin Clark x Reader

Summary: After getting out of a 2-year relationship, your friends encourage you to get back in the game by putting your phone number on some friendship bracelets for the Taylor Swift concert. You decided to make just one and that one ended up on the one and only Caitlin Clark.

Warnings: Swifties lol, this is like a major cliche but I do not care I am also going to change the order of the setlist to make this fic work better please don't come after me, cheating (not involving Caitlin)

Word Count: 2.3k

Sweetbans Masterlist

AN: This is nothing other than a figment of my imagination.

2 years. 2 years down the drain. 2 years you gave to this guy only to be left heartbroken and angry.

It had been two weeks since you found out your long-term boyfriend had been cheating on you. Something was off with the two of you for a few months before you found out but when you did it all clicked. That was no excuse for what he did, it honestly only made you hate yourself for not ending it when things started to change.

When you found out, you left quietly.

He was expecting you to lash out and make a scene. He expected you to break things and hit him and show all signs of what he did had an effect on you, at least any sign that you were affected. You gave him none of that.

When you found out - you packed up your things while he was at work and left without as much as a note. He tried calling and texting you for the better part of a week before you finally decided to meet with him.

The two of you sat down at a local diner. You barely looked at him as he tried to come up with any sort of excuse. It was miserable. when you were done sitting there watching him struggle, you finally spoke.

"I don't want to hear any of it. All I want is an apology and I will be going my own way. That is the least you can do for throwing away the last five years," you say making direct eye contact with him now.

He sits there, speechless. He tries to find words and you sit there watching him try to form an apology. Before he can form any coherent response, you get up and walk out not wanting to give the man in front of you any more time.

The next week was a rough one for you. You were incredibly thankful that you have a solid group of friends who have been nothing but supportive. They watched over you like a hawk, making sure you were always with someone and were kept busy.

That leads you to sitting at your friend's kitchen table, listening to Tayor Swift, snacking on some Chick-fil-A all while making friendship bracelets for the concert you guys will be going to in a few days.

You are focused on getting the beads threaded on the string in front of you when your friend hits your elbow causing you to spill all the beads you just put on.

"Cas! I was just about to finish this one," you say frustrated as you are on bracelet 20. Your friends told you you had to make 50 before you could even think about leaving the table. You gather the beads you were just using and begin to start making it again.

"I'm sorry!" She says as she grabs a nugget. One of your other friends chimes in after looking at your pile of bracelets.

"You know, it might not be the worst idea to put your number on some of those bracelets." She says as if you didn't just get out of a long-term relationship. You just give her a look.

"This could be good!" Another one of your friends yells as she points at you. "You will be in a stadium full of girls, singing their heart out to Taylor Swift - it has been a minute since you've been on the fun side." She says referring to your last relationship being Jacob, before him, you were dating a girl and were so much freer.

"Guys, it has literally been 2 weeks. It hasn't even been a month since I have been single. Let a girl heal," you say getting annoyed at your friends.

"Come on, it doesn't have to be serious. This could be a good distraction for you!" One friend says. Another pitches in, "Ya! That's actually a good idea, just something fun, a little distraction!"

"I am not going to put my number on a beaded bracelet," you say. "That seems desperate and I am not desperate, I am healing," You whisper the last part.

"Come on, just a few." You are now being passed the number beads. You make no move to grab them.

You know your friends mean well but this was a little much. They were lucky you were even going - the thought of going to a TSwift concert right after a breakup is daunting.

"No." Is all you say.

"Yes, you are going to make a few, you don't have to give them out if you don't want but if you make them then at least you have the option." One of your friends says.

"Fine, I will make ONE that has my number," you say so they would all shut up. "But I have no plans of handing it out."

The rest of the night is spent finishing up the bracelets. You made so many bracelets, you felt like your fingers were going to fall off.

The day of the concert is pure chaos. Your friends wanted to get there like 10 hours early to get in line for merch and make sure you have plenty of time to take photos. You follow along with your friends, letting them do whatever they want before the concert starts. YOu are a Taylor fan, but not nearly as much as they are.

Once you all make your way to your seats you are on the end of your group of friends. The group of girls next to you is already sitting. You take a seat next to a girl in a light sage dress. You say a quick hello as you get yourself situated.

Part of your group decides to go grab drinks and snacks while you opt to stay and watch over everyone's stuff. You tell them to grab you a drink and whatever looks good.

You sit there looking around at all the girls wearing their Taylor themes outfits and getting to have the time of their lives. Meanwhile, you are just trying to survive the night.

"Hey, I dropped my chapstick, would you mind grabbing it?" The girl next to you says.

"Ya, no problem," you say and lean down and grab the little stick that made its way under your legs. You pass it to the girl next to you who you notice is now alone. "You're friends also head to get snacks?"

"Restroom," she says with a little laugh. "Yours go to get snacks?"

You nodd also letting out a little laugh. "Can't leave the stuff alone."

You introduce yourself as you are about to be screaming song lyrics right next to this girl all night.

"Nice to meet you, I'm Caitlin," she says.

The two of you enter into some small talk and learn you both attend the same school. It is big enough that it doesn't surprise you that you haven't seen each other before. What once started as small talk, turns into talking life. She tells you how there are some big decisions that she is going to have to make coming up - she keeps it pretty vague but mentions it has to do with her career. You mention your recent breakup and how you the guy cheated. Her hand comes to yours as she apologizes that you had to go through that. You give her a small smile and tell her it was for the better.

She sat there listening to the most beautiful girl in the world talk about how someone treated you like trash. All she wanted to do was hold you and show you what love really is. It seems cliche that she is having all these thoughts at concert with a girl she just met but they way you talked about life had her thinking anything is possible.

The conversation continues as you talk about growing up and how you both chose to go to Iowa for school. You learn she plays basketball and you tell her you dance. She slides the comment of how you should come to one of her games. Of course, you say yes, not thinking anything of it.

Both of your groups of friends get back around the same time and you both turn back to conversations with them.

When the concert starts you get mesmerized by the performance. Everyone is standing and singing along to all of the songs.

The first time you cry is when Taylor sings The Archer. You try to hide it to the best of your ability. Your friends are too into the concert to notice which you are thankful for but as your arms wrap around yourself to provide any sort of comfort, you feel a hand come up and give your arm a little squeeze. You look over to see Caitlin's hand on your arm, rubbing it with her thumb. The part of you that once felt so empty, is now a little fuller.

Neither of you say anything about the little moment. You both just continue to enjoy the concert.

It is during Cruel Summer that you are back screaming at the top of your lungs. When Taylor gets to the bridge you grab Caitlin's hand and use it as a microphone, pretending you are on stage. She just laughs at you and takes in the sight of you living your best life. At the end of the song you pull her in so you can say something.

"I would apologize but I am not sorry at all," you say with a laugh. She leans over to your ear.

"Please never even think about apologizing for that," is what she says with a little wink. You just look at her and shake your head with a smile.

The night continues with you singing with your friends, both the ones you came with and the new ones you met at the concert.

The next time you cry is during Tolerate It, your friend that you came with brings you into her side and just holds you. While she is holding you, you feel a hand come and take yours, intertwining your fingers and giving your hand a squeeze while rubbing her thumb against your skin.

You don't know what it is about the girl but her comfort is one that you haven't felt in a while. It is peaceful, not forced. She brings a calmness to you and you haven't known her for more than 2 hours. Anyone else would be mortified with your sea of emotions - going from screaming at the top of your lungs to sobbing about your cheating ex-boyfriend but not her. She has embraced it all and continues to embrace it.

It is during You Belong With Me that you notice she is looking at you more than usual. You decide to sing it with her and turn to her during one of the verses. By the time the chorus comes around, she is singing it right to you. You sing along trying to not let the words of the song cut too deep.

She is the one to grab your hand during this song and belt out the words to the bridge. You just watch her in awe, seeing her let loose for what you feel like the first time this evening.

At the end of the song, you put your hand on her shoulder to help steady yourself as you reach up to whisper in her ear, "That was adorable, carefree looks good on you."

She leans back down to you, "You make it easy."

The rest of the night is filled with singing your heart out and making little comments here and there to the girl next to you.

One of Taylor's final songs is one that you have been waiting to hear all night, Enchanted. She does a beautiful acoustic version that has you whispering it along with her. You don't know when it happens but Caitlin takes hold of your arm and turns you to face her. Caitlin is now singing with you (to you). You can't take your eyes off of hers as her hand doesn't leave you. Caitlin, in nothing above a whisper, is singing the bridge of the song hoping that you know she is not just singing the song but means every word.

"Please don't be in love with someone else, please don't have somebody waiting on you." She sings looking right into your eyes.

Who in the world would have imagined this, a beautiful girl singing Taylor songs to you at a Taylor concert. Picking up the pieces of your heart all while only knowing you for less than a day.

When the song comes to an end, you don't know what overcomes you but you bring your hand up to her cheek and just stroke her cheek with your thumb. You then bend down and grab your bag, looking for something that you buried it in before the concert.

You find what you are looking for and give it one look before grabbing Caitlin's wrist and putting the bracelet on her. She gives you a slightly confused look, not understanding why you pulled the bracelet out of the bag and didn't take it off your wrist like you had with all the other girls around you.

You give a nod down for her to look at it and she does. When she sees the bracelet you gave her contains 10 digits on it, she instantly smiles.

The concert comes to an end and everyone begins clearing the stadium. You say goodbye to your new friends, making sure Caitlin is the last of them.

When saying bye, you bring her into a hug.

"I am not ready to jump into anything, but you are truly incredible and I would love to get to know you more. I only made one of those bracelets and wasn't planning on handing it out but you are something special." You say and begin to release her. She doesn't let go of you but rather squeezes you tighter.

"You are worth waiting for," she says, and your heart rate increases. "I will take it as slow as you need.'"

She releases you and you just smile at her.

This night marks a new beginning, one that you can't want to dive into.

AN: Yes, there will eventually be a part two. No, I do not know when. But I promise it will come. Let me know what you think! And as always, thank you for the love and support 🤍

[howthebestwaslost-blog]

Not a single coherent thought in my brain, but here are a few jumbled ones. Loooooong post. Long long long post.

Lots of spoilers for Lux after the break.

Spoons

Is that just a coincidence? In Lux, the spoon reflects the moonlight, allowing Lux into the world and to possess Mr. Ring-a-Ding. In The Devil’s Chord, Maestro appears on several reflective surfaces while the spoon falls. In both cases it seems to help the pantheon member enter this universe. But then Empire of Death: It’s the metal of the spoon that lets the Doctor connect with the time window, does that mean it allows him to re-enter the universe?

Tooth and Claw reference

“You’re seventy percent water, but you can still drown.” (Tooth and Claw)

“We’re sixty percent water and we can still drown.” (Lux - got a bit dehydrated along the way?)

But already in the cold open: “No. Don’t give me sunshine. Because I’m more interested in moonlight. That icy cold beam of heaven. Touching my soul and bringing me life.” (Lux)

“You burnt like the sun, but all I require is the moon” (Tooth and Claw)

The Devil’s Chord parallels

Both Ruby and the Doctor get dragged away and lifted into the air and have their core/soul/energy drained in a confrontation with a god.

Belinda’s dad is “kind of musical. Well, he sings. Well, he loves grabbing the microphone. He’s awful. And he makes me laugh so much.” I’m sure there is absolutely no connection to Mr. Ring-a-Ding/Lux’s repeated “don’t make me laugh”. Yep.

Why is the start of Roman Paradox (Series 5 soundtrack) playing a few seconds later? We hear The Sad Man With A Box later with the fans, where it makes sense, but why here already?

Is all of the episode a trap like the fans’ living room? Who does the Doctor say cut to? When the letters fall from the cinema’s billboard, how does the Doctor know it, standing inside (and did he know that “The Harvest Bringer” was not a real Rock Hudson film)? He’s not surprised that Mr. Ring-a-Ding has an audible soundtrack, but he already mentioned in The Devil’s Chord that he himself can hear non-diegetic music.

Obligatory Timerogue brainrot:

The London Regency Orchestra? “I am the last thing you see before you fall into the abyss”? “Find me”?

Is this the Doctor’s repressed guilt/loss/sense of obligation leaking into the story? Is something or someone trying to reach out? Maybe someone who was initially fictional, a trap like the fans, but decided to help him instead?

And lastly (this is probably silly and I don’t even have a theory, but the Doctor mentioned the bi-generation for the first time since The Giggle a while later, so my coincidence-tingle tingled)

Anyway.

[joneejoestar]

Naoya Zen'in x Reader Minors DNI / 18+

Self indulgent because I need smuts to function, lmao

CEO Husband Naoya who would walk around in his grey sweatpants that hung too low, showing his happy trail, who would smirk and chuckle when he noticed you staring at him. He would walk up to you and place a kiss on your cheek and say, "No need to ogle at it, love. It's yours anyways."

CEO Husband Naoya who made sure to diligently check his messages at lunch to make sure he didnt miss any of your texts.

CEO Husband Naoya who almost choked on his meal when he saw your nudes and your dirty texts, asking him to fuck you up.

CEO Husband Naoya who then swore on his life that he'd breed you so well, you wouldn't walk for days and stuck to it when he came home later to find you in only his shirt prepping dinner.

"Whats the matter, sweetheart? Was is all a ruse to make me treat you like a whore?" He spoke utter filth to make you clench incredibly hard around him. It impressed him that you could wrap around him so tight even after all these orgasms he pulled out of you.

Your lack of response made Naoya halt his thrusts, and pull you by your hair, your back flushed against his chest. You swear, you felt electricity shoot through your body from the contact.

He smacks your clit hard, and you cry out, more tears spilling from your eyes. You squirm in his grip, but Naoya is stronger and holds you in place. Your whines and cries just fueled his ego, he was more than pleased to know his effects on you.

He places his veiny hand on your chin, tilting your head and speaking into your ear, "Answer me, slut. I don't know what you need unless you ask me like a good girl, right?"

You could feel his wicked smile and it only made you wetter. But you couldn’t think anymore. Your last orgasms had drained you not only of your energy and senses, but also your cerebral functioning to form a coherent sentence. So you muster your last drops of energy and plead, "Sir, please, I can't cum anymore, I can't, please."

He tsks, disappointed in you, "I didn't ask if you could cum or not, did I, baby? I asked you if you wanted to be treated like a whore. It's a simple question and I expect a simple answer."

He pulls out of you and turns you around, admiring your wet face.

Folding you in half, he thrusts his cock in in one swift go, and you scream.

"Let's try this again, okay? Just answer my question and we'll get going again."

And you cry in frustration because you know he won't stop his assult unless you respond to him, so you decide to agree, "Yes, sir. I want to be treated like a whore."

And Naoya starts to thrust in again at an insane pace, "Wasn't all that hard to admit it, was it?" He grunts.

You tried to push him away, trying your best to make him pull it out, because it was too much all at once. Your body was screaming in pain and pleasure, begging for a break.

But Naoya was anything but sweet in bed.

He held you still, a palm spread on your navel to hold you in place, feeling his dick in you, the bulge from his dick driving him insane.

With his other hand cupping your face, he said brushing his lips against your lips,

"Don't run away like a bitch. You're a grown woman, you should take responsibility for your actions. Come on, be a good girl for me, darling." He trailed hickeys from the back of your ear to your breasts.

He took a minute to admire your upper body crowded in hickeys, both old and new.

You pussy clamping hard around him, was his cue to cum.

Once you came together, Naoya plaed a gentle kiss to your forehead and then your lips.

"That's my good fucking girl."

[littlejackets]

✩˚｡⋆ Hide Away

pairing ¦ cg!van little! tai

summary ¦ Tai has been struggling and hiding something from Van, and Van wants to know what it is.

tags ¦ sfw, age regression, fluff, slight angst

Van was worried about Tai. It had been days and she was barely sleeping, and it seemed like as time went by she seemed to get more and more drained both physically and mentally. Tai started getting distant, and Van didn't like it. At first she thought giving her some space was a good idea, but it really didn't last long at all.

There were times throughout the day where Tai would get really quiet, not saying much at all unless she was spoken to, and even then she would still stick to very few words. Something even remotely frightening would happen and suddenly Tai was nowhere to be found. And there was one day where she was talking to Tai, and the girl started to bite at the skin on her thumb. Tai literally never did that, and she especially wouldn't with the dirt all over her skin.

Van tried talking to Tai about what was happening, wanting to help her in any way she could. But every time she asked, Tai found a way to somehow get out of answering, which only stressed Van out more. One day she decided to talk to Lottie about it, since Lottie was surprisingly an expert on relationship advice. And that was when everything clicked.

While Van explained Tai's recent attitude shift, Lottie suggested the possibility of age regression. Van wasn't sure how she hadn't thought of that! So many of the team members, herself included, were all regressors, how did she never guess that could've been the situation with Tai?

She talked to Lottie for a little bit longer, trying to figure out how to approach the situation. Eventually, she seemed to have a pretty good idea and she made her way up to the attic. "Tai?"

Tai rolled over on the floor to face her, very obviously trying to either nap or get away from something. She smiled softly and propped herself up on one arm. "Hey."

Van smiled back and walked over, slowly sitting down next to her. "I wanted to talk to you about something. And I need honesty, okay?"

"Why wouldn't I be honest?" Tai asked.

Van decided to ignore that question, wanting to just get right to the point. "Do you regress?"

Tai went quiet and immediately looked down to avoid any eye contact. She tried to fight back the tears that suddenly threatened to spill from her eyes, but she was unsuccessful.

"No no, it's okay Tai." Van assured her, pulling her into her lap to hug her. Tai began to cry more "Shh. I'm not upset, honey. You're okay."

" 'm sorry. Got scared." Tai said quietly.

Van frowned and rubbed her back softly. "Is that what's been happening? Were you too scared to tell me?"

Tai nodded and brought her hand up to her mouth to bite at her thumb. Van knew stopping her was probably a good idea before she got hurt, but she knew she needed that comfort. Especially since it seemed to soothe her crying. She would find a safer alternative later.

"Well I promise you're okay. I just want to help you, is that alright?" Van asked. Tai nodded again. "Can you tell me how old you are right now, hon? Or show me on your fingers if you don't want to talk?"

Tai whined as she held up three fingers, burying her face in Van's neck.

"Alright, thank you for telling me." Van smiled slightly, happy that Tai seemed to be trusting her a bit more. "Were you trying to nap before I came up?"

"Mhm." Tai hummed.

"Let's lay down then, yeah? You could use a nap, little one." Van suggested as she slowly layed down on the ground, pulling Tai down with her. Tai immediately snuggled up against Van.

Van grabbed their blanket and pulled it up over the both of them, kissing her forehead as she did so. "I love you." She whispered.

Tai mumbled a "love you too", but it was hardly coherent due to how tired she suddenly became. Van kept rubbing her back, until she eventually fell asleep for the first time in a while.

[warabidakihime]

★ characters: levi ackerman x reader | modern au

★ plot summary: levi helps you get through an episode

★ content warnings : implied su!cidal ideations, talks about mental illness (panic attacks, anxiety, and depression).

★ a/n: just a lil something i wrote out of sheer indulgence cause i am going through it ૮₍ ˃ ⤙ ˂ ₎ა . so i guess you could say this is true to life and the only difference is, i don't have a levi by myself doing all these for me LOL. BUT YEAH, i hope you like this one and i hope it could help other people who might be going through the same thing.

sending everybody hugs!

-

Title: Until When Do I Need to Run?

"What if I'm too tired by the time I reach the 'pinnacle' of my life?"

Your voice sounded soft and vulnerable as you let those words slip through your lips.

Normally, you wouldn't let these kinds of thoughts escape the confines of your mind, but today, your heart was desperately screaming for any semblance of salvation.

Anything that could shed light on your ever-gloomy world.

From the dining table where your boyfriend sat, enjoying his freshly brewed jasmine tea after dinner, Levi raised an eyebrow in your direction. "What?"

You were at the sink, washing the dishes, as it was your turn this week. You chuckled humorlessly as you rinsed a plate rather mindlessly. "It's nothing. I was just thinking out loud."

"And thinking ridiculous things too," Levi said, his voice louder than usual. It didn't occur to you that he had moved until you were spun around, facing him. He was already behind you while you were racking your brains for a response.

"What's wrong with you? Did something happen?" His frown was deep, his gray eyes piercing. Despite being shorter, his presence loomed over you.

Reaching for the kitchen towel to dry your hands, you stayed mute for a few minutes in an attempt to gather your thoughts.

"Work has just been... rough lately, and the stress is getting to me. But today was especially hard," you started. You were speaking slowly, trying to articulate your words as best as you could.

It was something your therapist had taught you years ago. Because of the things you went through growing up and the trauma you'd accumulated, you'd unfortunately lost your ability to speak coherently at times, almost to the point of being considered a person with a disability.

Having such a handicap was frustrating and humiliating, to say the least. It angered you when you couldn't get the right words out or when your mind went blank mid-sentence, rendering you temporarily mute.

Thankfully, you had Levi. He'd been your boyfriend for eight years, and since you got together, life wasn't as draining as it once was. You couldn't be more grateful to him. The two of you had met while you were on a coffee run at work. He was behind you in line, and when your card was unfortunately declined and you didn't have cash on you, you almost had an anxiety attack.

In his own way of displaying kindness, Levi scoffed from behind you and handed the cashier his card to pay for both your orders.

"If you don't want to go through something like that again, make sure you have cash on you, dumbass."

And the rest was history.

You went quiet again, and while Levi waited patiently, he took your hand, gave it a loving squeeze, and led you to the living room so that you could sit and talk comfortably.

Once you were settled, you took a deep breath, which sounded shaky as it escaped your lips. Your emotions were clearly piling up inside, and it was just a matter of when they would burst.

"Steady your breathing first, Y/N," Levi said as he rubbed your back gently, doing his best to comfort you while you grounded yourself. "Take your time."

Smiling sheepishly at him, you did as told, and then finally, you continued to confide in him.

"Nothing major happened, but work has been really hectic recently due to the amount of things we need to do, and it doesn't help that my team is severely understaffed. So, I guess the fatigue and stress have been piling up, and it's getting to me."

Levi noticed the tension in your shoulders and the way your hands were trembling slightly. He reached out and gently massaged your temples, his touch soothing.

"Any word on that incompetent manager of yours? They're looking for a replacement, right?" Levi asked, his voice tinged with annoyance. He knew the lore of what was happening at your workplace, and to say that he was pissed was an understatement.

Not only were you neglected by your immediate supervisor, but you also had to catch up and do his workload while still getting paid less than him. The whole thing was a mess, and to be completely honest, Levi was on edge, worried for your well-being. It sucked that his worst fears were manifesting.

"They're doing the best they can, so I'm just waiting patiently on that."

Levi let out a 'tsk' and rolled his eyes, clearly more annoyed for you. The gesture caused you to giggle a little.

"And to sum it all up, the whole thing kind of shoved me into another episode, and I started to overthink things again." You said with a pout, then continued, "I started to think of negative things again, like the fact I literally have to work like a horse just so I can survive for another two weeks. From that, I started to get dizzy because it dawned on me that it would literally take me years to succeed. And then I thought, what if by the time I reach the most successful point of my life, I'm too tired to celebrate or to even continue living because that's what I've been striving to achieve for so long, and that's where I've been pouring all my energy—"

"Okay, stop. Stop right there," Levi interrupted, his voice firm. He let out a frustrated sigh and pulled you closer, taking your hands in his. "You're spiraling, Y/N. You're making a mountain out of a molehill. We're going to tackle this together, one step at a time. Right now, you need to breathe and relax."

His gray eyes held a stern yet caring expression. "Focus on the now, Y/N. We deal with problems as they come. I'm here. I'll be your anchor, but you have to let go of the rope a little."

You looked into his eyes, feeling the weight of his words. Levi had always been your rock—the one who grounded you when your mind spiraled. You knew he was right, and his presence always brought you back to reality.

As you sat there, hand in hand, you felt a sense of calm wash over you.

"Thank you, Levi," you whispered, leaning in to rest your head on his shoulder.

Levi noticed the shift in your demeanor. He squeezed your hand reassuringly, his other hand coming up to stroke your hair gently.

"You know, Y/N," he started softly, his voice a stark contrast to his earlier firmness. "You're incredibly strong. You've faced challenges I couldn't imagine, and you’ve come out stronger for it. But even the strongest people need to recharge."

He paused, giving you a moment to absorb his words. "It's okay to not be okay sometimes. It's okay to feel overwhelmed. What matters is how you deal with it. And right now, you're dealing with it by talking to me instead of keeping all that to yourself, and you've also been really consistent with it, which is a huge step. Good job."

Levi squeezed your hand gently again. "We'll figure this out together. Maybe we can start by setting some boundaries at work. Or maybe we can find some ways to de-stress outside of work. We can try new hobbies, or just spend more quality time together."

You felt a lump form in your throat as you listened to Levi's words. Just him being there for you brought so much warmth; it's as if he's hugging you from within.

At that moment, you realized how lucky you were to have him in your life.

You looked up at him, your eyes filled with a mixture of gratitude and vulnerability. His words, spoken with such gentle sincerity, had a profound effect on you. It felt like a weight had been lifted off your shoulders. You realized how much you had been bottling up and how much you had been neglecting your own well-being.

"Thank you," you whispered, your voice barely audible. "Thank you for always being here for me. I don't know what I would do without you."

Levi smiled softly, reaching up to brush away a stray tear that had escaped your eye. "You don't have to figure it out alone, Y/N. And never, ever hesitate to reach out to me. I am the last person that would push you away."

A comfortable silence settled between you as you both took a moment to appreciate the connection. The soft glow of the living room lamp casts a warm ambiance, creating an intimate atmosphere.

"I know I've been a bit of a downer lately," you admitted, your voice trembling slightly. "I hate that I let this get to me. I hate that I'm becoming this person who's always stressed and overwhelmed."

Levi squeezed your hand tighter.

"You're not this person, Y/N. You're going through a tough time, and that's okay."

You nodded, feeling a sense of relief wash over you. It was comforting to know that you had someone who understood and supported you unconditionally.

The conversation continued, flowing naturally as you shared your fears and worries with Levi. He listened patiently, offering words of encouragement and practical advice. You felt a sense of peace as you opened up to him, something you hadn't done in a long time.

Hours seemed to fly by as you talked. The initial darkness outside had given way to the soft hues of dawn. Levi's grip on your hand never loosened, his presence a constant source of comfort.

Eventually, the weight of exhaustion began to creep in. You yawned, your eyes heavy with sleep. Levi noticed and smiled gently.

"It's late, Y/N," he said softly. "Let's head to bed."

You nodded, your head leaning against his shoulder. "Mkay. Thank you, Levi."

Levi kissed the top of your head. "You're welcome. We'll talk more about this tomorrow if you want, alright?" 

You nodded, a sheepish smile on your face. "Okay."

He stood up and stretched, a yawn escaping his lips. "I'll get us some water."

You watched as Levi moved toward the kitchen, feeling exponentially better, all thanks to him. When he returned with two glasses of water, he handed you one and sat back down beside you.

"Drink up," he said, his voice soft but firm.

You took a sip, feeling the cool liquid soothe your throat. After finishing the water, you placed the glass on the coffee table and turned to Levi.

"Thank you, Levi, for everything," you said, your voice full of sincerity.

He gave you a small smile, his eyes reflecting his affection for you. "Always, Y/N."

Setting his glass aside, Levi suddenly cupped your face with his hands, his touch gentle yet commanding. He leaned in, his lips capturing yours in a kiss that was more passionate and eager than usual. His kiss conveyed all the love, support, and reassurance he wanted to give you, grounding you in the moment.

You responded in kind, your arms wrapping around his neck as you melted into the kiss. The intensity of the moment made your worries fade away, replaced by the warmth and love radiating from Levi. He pulled you closer, deepening the kiss, his hands moving to your waist, holding you securely.

When you finally pulled away for air, you rested your forehead against his, your breaths mingling. Levi's eyes were soft but intense, filled with a promise of unwavering support.

"You're not alone, Y/N," he whispered, his voice husky with emotion. "I love you, and I'll always be here for you."

Tears of gratitude filled your eyes as you looked at him. "I love you too, Levi."

With that, he took your hand and led you to the bedroom. You both settled into bed, the weight of the day's worries feeling lighter. As you lay there, wrapped in each other's arms, you felt a sense of peace and security that only Levi could provide.

"Goodnight, Y/N," Levi murmured, his breath warm against your ear.

"Goodnight, Levi," you replied, your voice barely above a whisper.

The room fell into a serene silence, only your steady breathing filling the space. Levi’s arms around you felt like a shield against the world’s troubles, and the steady beat of his heart was a comforting rhythm that lulled you into relaxation.

As sleep began to pull you under, you felt a tender kiss pressed to your forehead while Levi’s fingers lightly traced soothing patterns on your back—his way of reminding you that he was always there, ready to lift the burdens you carried.

[despairat6oclock]

jimbo gets kissed by slightly intoxicated masc!reader at a holiday party at willne’s office, chaos ensues

run wild with this one

-☀️

My dear, lovely, anon

This was supposed to be out of my drafts centuries ago... please don't come at me with a pitchfork and torch with how short this is (⁠・⁠_⁠・⁠;⁠)

Liquid Courage

Synopsis: a bit of liquid courage gives one the bravery to initiate what's been on their mind.

masc!reader x James Marriott

Word Count: 664

Contains: fluff if you squint

Warnings: drunk reader, Willne playing matchmaker

[m.list]

The atmosphere that was once filled with festive music and not that alcoholic of drinks, was now blasting drill with people either walking straight or stumbling.

Will's hearty laugh rang into James’ ears as he pointed out some lyrics James had missed. Up against the wall, his social battery draining ages ago, the cup of juice in his hand tasting too bitter for his liking.

It wasn't that James didn't like these people, he actually thoroughly enjoyed everyone's presence here. Or he did an hour ago.

But now, he wanted to catch a Uber home. Maybe treat himself to a takeout that he would have to fend Otto off of. A perfect night in his book.

Or maybe he did wanna stay here, just a bit longer.

Belting out the slurred lyrics of the pop song that now pounded against the speaker. Arm clutching your stomach like you were actually trying, until a laugh bubbled up your throat and your drink flowed down the edges of the cup it sat in.

James was entranced. Plain to say. From how you had ditched your sweater when the alcohol you had consumed was enough to keep you warm. To the way your once neat hair was now a frizzy mess. Who knew people could have so much fun at a corporate party.

James knew you, or of you. Editing for Will for as long as he had known him, and Will trying to interfere with both of your lives.

“Look! Y/N is here!”

Will basically scream, the music was not that loud. At least to sober ears.

Will was absolutely convinced the two were meant, for reasons he'd rather keep to himself.

“Y/N!”

Will screamed once again.

James' cheeks flushed as you looked over at the two wallflowers. Walking to them. Him. Walking to him.

With glassy glazed eyes, and a cup of a terribly proportion cocktail swishing in your hand.

“James” you slurred, barely coherent. At least, that's what he thought you said. It sounded more like “Games”, but as long as it was directed at him. He was ok.

“Y/n”

James smiled, offering a side hug.

Both of your arms wrap around him, lips coming to chase a kiss onto his cheek.

“That's what the French do, no?”

You hum before continuing, looking up at him, “Wait, here.”

A single long, unmoving kiss onto his lips.

Your lips tasted like the most alcohol he's had in years, which made him flinch away.

Tilting your head as you pull away, “Uh sorry I-”

“No no, you're ok”

James quickly interjected, “It just tastes like alcohol” he laughed off.

Eyes looking on in horror as your jaw becomes slack. Laughing at your expression, looking to his side to share this moment only to see Will had gone.

“James wait I didn't, I wouldn't-”

One gentle, but firm, hand on your shoulder. A soft squeeze that turned to a half-done massage.

“I appreciate it, just, would enjoy it more…you know, with a bit more warning next time.”

You frantically nod, your buzzing mind pleading to make amends.

James looks you up and down with a giddy smile, “so, are you going to ask next time?”

“Can I kiss you James?”

“Yes”

It was breathless, and James was sure his lips landed on yours first. It wasn't rough or hurried, or lustful or intense.

James fingers skipped down your arm, gently prying your red cup out of your grip before intertwining your fingers together with his.

His other hand went up to your cheek, gently caressing it as he pulled away.

You're nodding at unspoken words when James looks down at you, his hand gently stroking your cheekbone.

“That was better,” James hums, his eyes darting away from you for a moment to see if Will had suddenly appeared.

And he did. Across the room, giving the most obnoxious thumbs up and giggling into his own hand. James would never hear the end of this.

[confirmeddead]

Can we take a second to reflect on the truly f*cked up intimacy that exists between Armand and Daniel - and which might come to exist? Even if we put away the possibility of a past-DM relationship!

Armand potentially spent days - days - looking through Daniel’s mind looking specifically for what makes him fascinating. Looking for the reason behind Louis’ interest. Looking through all of his life, dreams, hopes and shame. All of this then resulting in Armand trying to talk Daniel out of his own life through a nihilistic script specifically tailored to him. Ending with that embrace (as Daniel embraced him as his Death), and him drinking Daniel’s blood, and forever leaving his mark on his neck. Then we have Daniel Molloy, Pulitzer Prize winning journalist who is many things but most importantly a very competent journalist. Someone who is able to listen, gather research and find some version of the truth hidden behind the smoke and mirrors his subjects tries to conjure up in front of them. The Talamasca has sent him detailed files, which we know reveal a lot of the history and horrors of Armand’s life. Will Daniel in the finale use his skills as a journalist and analyze Armand to get to the truth? (As he does with Louis, as already seen). There is basically a level of enforced intimacy between the two, as they have both without the other’s consent learnt a lot(!) about each other. And if speculation is correct and Armand turns Daniel into a vampire this season? Will Armand see Daniel’s life flash before him? And if that is not intimate enough(!) they will then both be left with a bond unlike anything else - which has been shown to literally make maker/fledgling ’feel’ each other, their respective emotions and thoughts. Like what even is this relationship, and can I get more please haha?! If DM didn’t happen in the past will Armand go to drain Daniel and realize as he does so that the boy from the 70’s still finds him absolutely fascinating? (I strongly believe that Armand believes Daniel when he claims to not find him boring in episode five). Daniel is an insatiably curious journalist with an addictive personality (and maybe a little of an adrenaline junkie, no?) - and Armand must surely be a truly fascinating subject, even given what Armand’s done to him (one vampire might not be enough to interview/to come to understand for Daniel…). Will Armand see that and will that be partially what makes him suddenly decide to turn him??? Their chemistry has been interesting since season one and has only become more intriguing and compelling. I have so many thought, many not really coherent - sorry, love you blog! What do you think?

Hi Anon! First off, let me thank you for sending in your thoughts. I really love having conversations with other fans, especially regarding Devil’s Minion and Armand. I’ll set aside the possible past-DM as well, by the way. Buckle up!

There’s something really important being set up for viewers with Armand and Daniel’s relationship. Let’s look at what the show has presented us with. Armand and Daniel’s meeting was, quite possibly, the worst way for two people to meet. Looking into someone so deeply and, through your own selfish reasons (jealousy on Armand’s part), continuing to coax this young man into Death’s arms is inherently messed up. This isn’t something anyone should take lightly, and Daniel doesn’t. Therein lies the odd set up to their eventual maker/fledgling relationship. I love what you say is “enforced intimacy” because that really is what it is!

Daniel’s character is a juxtaposition when most of who we’re seeing are these immortal vampires. He’s our voice when we want to tell off them off, he’s our conscience and sense when we’re presented with lies, horrible situations, and straight up buffoonery. Putting this man in the same room with The Not-So-Master Manipulator Armand is going to give us some amazing results. He isn’t a 20 year old who will welcome Death with open arms, he’s a bright reporter with just about every point of view a human can have gone through at this point. And this is what will perk Armand’s interest.

I fully believe Armand finds Daniel fascinating already. I don’t think he saw it in SF, marred by his own feelings with Louis, but was open to the idea of trying to see it for the sake of Louis. There’s a huge part of Armand that wants to serve someone, wants a teacher, wants a leader. The teacher part being something he knows he seeks- he sought it in Louis. Louis’ big appeal to others is his humanity, something Armand lacks but craves. And Daniel, not intentionally, is going to give Armand this dynamic he seeks to give him purpose to keep living.

Older Daniel has decades under his belt with his profession and his personal history. Aging up Daniel and having him be this well-respected journalist is probably the smartest thing the writers could have done for the ~bigger picture~ in regards to Armand’s storyline (since he’s such a big player in TVC). We the viewers are presented with someone intelligent, strong-willed, and cutthroat. What can Armand gain from being with someone like that? Literally everything. He’s not a replacement for Marius, Lestat, or Louis. He’s something Armand genuinely needs after everything he’s gone through (and put himself through, let’s be honest). I’ll rehash one of my previous theories that Daniel isn’t the Boy we met in the books who went a little crazy after being turned- our Daniel is a fighter- and he should be ringside on Team Armand. A coach, a shoulder to lean on, an active listener.

So present-day Dubai

I think after everything is said and done in Dubai, Daniel will find the vulnerability in his next subject. He’ll have cracked Armand but will be shocked to find the soft(ish) interior. Daniel will see Armand for who he really is- someone stuck in a loop of their own trauma but also someone with real feelings and love to give. Not just a monster manipulator. Still that scared boy from Delhi, maybe, but not a lost cause. Never.

I’d really love a callback to 2x05. No, Daniel isn’t going to talk Armand onto the ledge, he’s going to be what Louis was to him. You’re not unworthy of love, you’re not hopeless, you’ve made it this far and you’ll continue enduring. These words will hold you up and carry you.

[moondeer1616]

Always - An Abstragedy Fanfiction

I was gonna draw this into a comic and maybe i will someday but for now i rewrote it as a fanfic so it doesn't go to waste

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Gangle lays on her bed, curled up with a pillow. She’s teary-eyed but not sobbing, just lying there in melancholy. 

A few moments later Zooble knocks on her door. Even after cheering Gangle up from the Spudsy’s adventure they still wanted to make sure she was doing alright and had someone to talk to about any lingering feelings. 

Gangle wipes her tears as she hears a knock on her door. “W-who is it?” 

“It’s me. I just wanted to make sure you're doin’ alright. Can I come in?”

Gangle sniffles, “Yes…”.  She was thankful to hear Zooble’s voice and felt comfort knowing they cared enough to check up on her.

Zooble gently opens the door and closes it behind them. They notice Gangle in the corner of her room on the bed and walks up to her.

They recalled Gangle’s drained face the last time they saw her at Spudsy’s. Zooble couldn't help but feel bad for her, especially after overhearing Jax and Ragatha’s words to her. But given that they had already volunteered to make sure Ragatha made it home alright after accidentally getting “high”, and the fact that they didn't wanna make her feel like she had to be coddled at all times, they just left it at that. But Zooble knows that everyone needs someone to talk to, particularly in this hell they now call home.

They sit on the side of her bed. “How are you holding up? What’s on your mind?” 

Gangle pauses for a bit, putting together the biggest thoughts in her head into coherent words, fighting back her emotions while doing so. 

“...Ever since the last adventure, I've just felt so empty. I can't stop thinking about what Jax and Ragatha said. …a-and my life before the circus…”

“I had dreams of being a successful artist... Of creating my own webcomic… To leave my mark on the world…” Gangle begins to well up. “But I had to give them up and work in some stupid dead-end job instead. Stuck being a burden to everyone around me.”

“…Then I end up here and it's the exact same thing. Only now I really have no choice but to endure the pain. I'm stuck here forever. I'll never achieve my dreams, I'll never be happy, and nobody will ever truly like me…”

She couldn’t take it anymore and began to sob profusely, gripping her pillow tightly as her mind overflowed with pain and misery. Zooble looked on with worry and distress, feeling a sinking feeling in their heart knowing just how crushed Gangle truly felt. 

Zooble closed their eyes and allowed Gangle to let it all out, almost tearing up themselves. After a while, once Gangle’s sobs begin to quiet down a bit, Zooble opens their eyes and shares their sympathies. 

“ ..Well…I like you Gangle, and I never thought of you as a burden. …The circus wouldn't be the same without you here.” 

“..what Ragatha and Jax said...I'm sure they didn't mean it-” Zooble interjects themselves for a moment. “Not sure about Jax to be honest- ” and continues, “But I know Ragatha didn't mean it.”

“Everyone here is suffering in their own way and it shows in their actions. We’re all just people trying to get on with our lives…”.  Zooble inches a little closer to Gangle and rests a gentle hand on her shoulder to console her. “I’m sure they would take it back if they knew how much it affects you and your psyche.”

Gangle sniffles once more and looks up at Zooble from her pillow, Comforted by their touch but unsure of their words. “I-I don't know… maybe I just really am that a-annoying…” 

Zooble rubs her shoulder; with a well-meaning but slightly stern voice they say, “No, you’re not.”, in order to get their point across. Gangle’s tears begin to stop flowing. She buries her face back into the pillow, stewing over Zoobles' kind words.

Zooble looks down and carries on. “...About your dreams to be an artist, I think it’s a wonderful idea. Art is a reflection of the soul, a precious medium of storytelling and entertainment. I even dabbled in it myself a little.”

“Life gets in the way, sure, but if it's your passion and your goal in life, you should pursue it. Jobs are just a way to make money after all. Once you have enough money and experience you can use it to fuel your real dream.” 

Zooble looks up and gestures upwards with their hands as Gangle listens on. 

“I think life is all about chasing the things that make you happy. If you stay around the things that make you miserable, you'll waste your potential.” 

“Everyone is capable of pursuing their dreams, especially you Gangle. If no one else is there for you, always know that at the very least, I'll always be here for you. Always.”

Gangle finally looks up from her pillow, her eyes filling up with tears once again, but this time they were tears of happiness. She sits up on the bed and hugs Zooble from behind intently, much to Zoobles surprise and relief. “I…I don't know what to say… T-Thank you so much Zooble….” 

They hug Gangle back strongly and close their eyes once more. Just barely feeling the waterworks flow in their eyes as well. “You don't have to say anything, it’s alright.” 

Zooble turns around and makes eye contact with Gangle, tenderly wiping the tears off her mask. “Just promise me that whatever happens, you'll never give up. Never give up on life, on your dreams, and those who love you the most.”

Gangle hugs Zooble tighter and rests her head over Zoobles shoulder, cracking a smile. 

“I promise.” 

Zooble stayed with Gangle for the rest of the night, letting them lay next to her in bed. They spent hours talking about art and their old lives. Contemplating the meaning of it all and their existence in the circus. Though they knew their future was uncertain and terrifying, they took comfort in knowing that through it all, they would be together.