#they’re gonna be as long as they’re gonna be

[iwassupremacy]

Going cross eyed on pro hero Bakugou Katsuki’s fingers because ugh they’re so thick and long and rough from all the years of fighting. He has you sit between his thick thighs every chance he gets, one beefy arm holding your body at the waist, pressing you against his chest and the other laying comfortably between your legs so his fingers can work you open real good. He has you moaning and squirming within seconds, his thumb rubbing your clit and two, sometimes even three, of his fingers entering you at once. He knows you can take it and he knows you love a little pain. Most of the time he isn’t even undressed, because he’s not planning on fucking you afterwards. He just loves watching your naked body covered in sweat and wants to play with his pussy, preferably for hours. And he will do it during the most random activities as well.

“Oh my~ Katsuki!” your body tenses as your boyfriend fucks you through your orgasm with his fingers, thumb never leaving your clit and never slowing down. Quickly you whine and sob from the overstimulation. “I can’t~ no more. Please!” You beg him to stop but he just huffs and fastens his pace, thrusting three of his fingers inside without a care. “This is only your third, doll. You and I both know you can cum so much more than that.” He grins, his other hand moving up to pinch your nipple. You yelp at that, eyes rolling in the back of your head. He has you spread out in his lap, your naked body sitting pretty in his clothed one. His name leaves your lips like a prayer, pleading and begging him to stop and keep going at the same time. Suddenly his fingers stop inside of you, stuffing you full but not moving any longer. “Do you even remember anything about the movie?” Oh fuck. When all of this started an hour ago, he made you promise to recite the plot of whatever movie you were watching. Otherwise, he said, he wouldn’t stop at all. You let your head fall down in shame, of course you couldn’t remember. “What a shame. Gotta start over now.” You whine as he picks up the remote to let the movie start over, his hand picking up movement again, making you moan. Only two more hours to go if you only paid attention, how hard could it be? You hear your boyfriend chuckle behind you. “And afterwards, we’re gonna watch part two, princess.”

mdni 18+ !!!

[rafecameroninterlude]

congrats on 5k you deserve it! can i request a 🍪 for bitchykook!reader w/ the song ‘agora hills’ by doja cat?

₊˚⊹ᰔ 𝐚𝐠𝐨𝐫𝐚 𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐬

pairing: cocky!rafe x bitchy!kook!reader

summary: ❝kissing, i hope they caught us, whether they like or not. i wanna show you off, i wanna show you off. i wanna brag about it.❞ — you and rafe make your relationship official by showing up to a party together.

warnings: excessive pda, suggestive language, making out, dry humping, drinking, i feel like voyeurism should be a warning because everyone is feeling things watching the two of you lolll, suggestive ending

word count: 0.7k

a/n: i’ve had this song stuck in my head foreverrrr!! thank you for this req <333 i could also imagine ‘agora hills’ playing while they’re making out with eachother lol. feel free to participate in this poll if you’d like 🤍

rafe knew he was the luckiest man on the island when you accepted his girlfriend proposal. you never gave anyone the time of day, always shutting down any advances guys tried to make on you. you were nearly impossible to obtain, but the kook king himself loved a challenge. rafe wasn’t the first persistent man to come your way, but he was the first, and only one, who was able to handle you and your personality. you were mean to him and instead of cowering away, he was mean back, prompting you to keep running your mouth so he could ‘use it for something worth losing your breath for.’

you pushed him, and he pushed harder. he wasn’t intimidated by you, and you loved it. while you two decided to keep your relationship under wraps, both of you came to the mutual decision to go public. especially since you and rafe still had people who expressed the utmost interest in both of you. ‘swear, i’m gonna knock his teeth in when i see him.’ rafe would be cursing under his breath every time you told him about a guy who tried hitting on you. ‘seems like it’s time to make our relationship known, don’t you think?’ you had agreed, already thinking about what outfit you should wear for the night.

a few hours later, and rafe was guiding you through the crowd at topper’s house, all eyes falling on you two. you could feel the glares from the girls who thought they had a chance with your boyfriend burning against your skin. you basked in the feeling of crushing their egos, your piercing eyes meeting theirs as rafe pulled you closer to him. he was so tall and so handsome, butterflies fluttered in your tummy at the sight of him. rafe took your hand, fixing himself behind you as you two approached his friends, presenting you like a gold medal as topper and kelce got all of their friends to cheer for you and rafe.

“that’s what the fuck i’m talking about, ‘cameron!” topper gave up his seat on the couch, motioning for you and rafe to sit down as he poured everyone a round of shots. rafe felt his chest bloom with pride when all of his friends ogled you as if they couldn’t believe you were really sitting here in his lap. “looks like you did the impossible.” kelce whispered in rafe’s ear while flashing you a smile. handing you a shot, all of rafe’s friends wished you two the best before all of you downed the burning liquor. soon, one shot turned into four, and before you knew it, you and rafe were very tipsy and handsy.

instead of being seated in his lap, you were now straddling him, your dress riding up your thighs as he basically sucked your face off. you couldn’t help but move your hips against his, his hands coming down to rest on the globes of your ass as you pressed kisses along his neckline. it wasn’t long before rafe’s friends, and practically the whole party knew the color of your underwear, a drunken ‘oops!’ leaving your lips when you turned around and saw everyone looking at you with dark eyes. while girls wanted to be you, the guys wished they were rafe who had a girl as beautiful as you grinding on their lap.

“they’re all looking at us..” you giggled against rafe’s lips. “i don’t care, let them watch,” he took his bottom lip between his teeth, “just wanna show you off.” rafe blinked slowly, bringing his mouth to your neck where he nipped softly at your flesh. you moaned, hands finding the erection in his pants. “fuck.” he hissed when you palmed his length, his cock twitching in his pants when he saw the way you were looking at him. “aye, ‘top,” rafe nudged his friend, “s’your room free?” topper glanced between the two of you, watching the way your fingers trailed underneath your boyfriend’s shirt.

“it’s all yours, bro.” he nodded upstairs. pausing their conversations, the group of guys watched as rafe helped you up from his lap. “there’s condoms in the bathroom.” topper cleared his throat, in which you turned to face him. “we don’t use those!” you waved him off with a giggle, a smug grin taking over rafe’s features. now everyone knew he was was fucking you raw every chance he got. placing his hand on the small of your back, rafe guided you upstairs, both of you still trying to makeout on the way up there. kelce cursed under his breath when rafe landed a harsh smack on your ass, a wicked smile gracing your lips.

“i just know those two have the craziest sex.”

[meo-eiru]

begging u to introduce some of those fine gentlemen fr

especially if they’re doms bc. im a whore

Ok so for the ones who have lore

This one is Ro. He's basically this all powerful dragon who travels from kingdom to kingdom and spends a few weeks at a castle there to his liking. He's technically not allowed to do that but the nobles can't say anything to him since he could just wipe their country off the map if he feels like it. He finds the mc on the street as a homeless orphan and thinks she has potential as a mage so he decides to spend a few more years in that country and raise her to his liking.

On a matter of scariness I'd say he's actually more scary than Micah. Not only is he more powerful, he's also easier to anger, and you don't know what he might do when he's angry. Also unlike Micah who was aware of his affection for you right from the get go, Ro thinks of you more as a rare gem he owns and by the time he realizes his true feelings it's too late.

This is one of the stories I'd like to turn into a full webcomic one day.

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

Next we have these 3, well there's a 4th one but I couldn't find a drawing of him. Basically a reverse harem story about 4 ancient mages and a girl who seems to weirdly attract them. I'd say the blue haired one is definitely the poster boy but the drawing is quite old and I actually changed his design a bit, I think it was too busy.

I'm gonna be honest, this is a fanservice story. You know how there are always shows with female characters wearing impossibly revealing stuff to literal fights? I thought, hey how about I do the same but with men.

We have 4 mages, the mage of light, the mage of dark, the mage of mind and the mage of emotions.

Again a story I want to turn into a webcomic one day

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

This guy is the literal personification of Love. He was made out of love, he lives through love and IS Love.

He is the beautiful type of love, he is the innocent type of love, he is the dark type of love. The love that will suffocate you, the love that will make you wish you never experienced it, the love that'll bring you to tears from it's kindness.

He knows you yearn for love, a love you can be sure could never die off, a love that will follow you even if you no longer want it.

Even if you can't love him anymore he will continue suffocating you until you become completely his.

This is a story I want to turn into a visual novel in the future.

The other characters have lore too but I don't want this post to get too long, I think it should be enough to talk about these for now

[thegoogoomuckkk]

NOW PLAYING

LATE

Starring: Choso Kamo

Choso's a simple man with simple desires, & a morning meeting with Gojo & Yaga doesn't typically fit into those desires. . .not when he wakes up to you in his bed

Warnings! fem!reader, oral sex (f receiving), fingering, praise

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

Choso’s biggest complaint about humans is that they’re all so complicated. He thinks he’s a simple guy, & he is. He eats the same thing for breakfast every morning, he tells Yuji the same thing before every mission (“Be safe, & be smart”), he gets ready in the exact same order everyday, & he loves his girlfriend. 

Truly, it’s that simple. He’s that simple. 

But when you tell him that you think you “wanna move in with you, Cho. Then we can be together everyday. When you come home from missions, or hanging out with Yuji, I’ll be there,” it throws him off. Not that he’s complaining, but it’s Thursday morning, he needs to leave in 10 minutes, & yet here he is, lying in bed with you still, tracing patterns on your shoulder, admiring your soft snores that you swear don’t exist, & he just can’t find it in himself to get up.

He never would’ve allowed anything to distract him from his job, from his purpose, so why can’t he get out of bed & start getting ready? Why can’t he seem to find the will to leave you? & furthermore, why on earth would he ever want to leave you? He doesn’t spend too much time pondering it; all these complicated questions leave his head spinning. He’s accepted the fact that he isn’t here to be a genius, he isn’t half-human to be the smartest guy around. As long as he’s fighting curses, protecting those he cares about, & loving his girlfriend the way she deserves, nothing else really matters, right? 

You’re just so vulnerable like this. Some deep, dark instinct in his brain is telling him to stay with his woman, protect her, make her happy. Of course, he doesn’t need caveman intellect to encourage these thoughts, Choso will do anything to make you happy. Even be late to a meeting with Gojo & Yaga. 

“Morning, pretty,” he murmurs against the nap of your neck, trying to be subtle in the way he grinds his crotch against your ass. But you'd sang this song & danced this dance more mornings than you could count. 

“Cho, you have to go to work.” Of course, you would decide to be reasonable right now, right when he needed you, needed to feel you, needed to taste you. He wasn’t trying to be a tease or a flirt, but you second guessed that when he trailed delicate kisses, with both his lips & his eyelashes from the bottom of your jaw to the base of your neck, to the valley between your breasts, to your navel, down your stomach until he reached the silk line of your panties. He looked up at you, begging for permission, & the answer you gave him was hooking your fingers under your panties & pulling them down to your ankles. He wastes no time in burying his face into your pretty pussy: kittenlicking your folds, pressing chaste kisses all over your upper thighs, finally providing you the stimulation your body is begging for by shoving his nose into your syrupy, sweet cunt. 

You’re losing coherency, trying & failing to get through to him in any way that “yo-you’re gonna be late, Cho,” & it’s barely a whisper, some form of a whine, & damn it, he’s thinking to himself, he must not be doing a good enough job of sucking on your swollen cunt if you’re still forming sentences. 

“Don’t care.” He doesn’t even spare you a glance, too entranced by the taste of you, the smell of your perfume mixed with your arousal. 

Choso was not the type of person to call out of work, but it was after your third date, when you’d taken him home, let him finger you & sat on his dick, that he was texting Yaga at 3:00am that morning after round four that he wasn’t going to make it in. You’d scolded him for that rash decision in the ten minutes it took his cock to get hard again, & lost all sense of rationality after that.

He was gonna get you there, he thought; sex-brained & dumb, ‘cause that’s how he liked you best. Of course, he loves his sharp-as-a-tack girlfriend, but he loves you even more when you’re like him: zeroed in on one thing. His one thing was almost always you. He knew you would never cheat on him, but the thought of you even thinking about another man—platonically, even—made him sick. 

You're clawing at his hair, still trying to talk sense to him, but the words are lodged in your throat, replaced with moans of his name, begging; as if you'd ever have to beg, when Choso's stream of conciousness consists of two words: "please her, please her, please her, please her—"

So he’s confident, when he slides two fingers into your weeping cunt, that he’ll have his way with you this morning, send an apology to the higher-ups, & make sure his girlfriend knows how much he loves her before he leaves. 

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

is it obvious that i'm in love with him. . .orrrr. . . ???????

LOOKING FOR SOME MORE? MASTERLIST <3

LOOKING FOR SOMETHING SPECIFIC? ASK <3

[kitkat13001]

୭ ˚.⁺⊹ .ᐟ modern!eren jaeger x reader

you begin to think that maybe it was a bad idea to bring eren to the amusement park when the small group of kids runs off with snotty noses and whining cries after losing to him at the squirt gun game. 

but you just laugh, turning to him and his smug smile. 

“eren, you could have at least given them a chance.”

eren shrugs, puffing his chest out. “i don’t see why, i kicked their asses.”

“they’re kids!” 

“tch, they’ll have plenty of time to win, they’re young. me, though, i gotta establish my dominance.”

he makes a ridiculous show of flexing his muscles as you burst into a giggle fit. both of you have forgotten the carnie standing behind you until he clears his throat. “which prize will you be taking, sir?”

eren flushes and clears his throat, trying to regain his bearings. 

“i’ll take, uh…” he glances over at you and sees you staring in awe at a giant teddy bear with a green bow-tie. “i’ll take that one. please. thanks.”

the carnie takes it off the hook and gives it to eren, returning to his place behind the counter. 

“i- oof!” it’s heavier than eren expected and while it’s not exactly a brick, it’s still rather large. “who the fuck made these things so heavy?”

he hauls the bear away awkwardly to free up the game for the next round of people, you trailing close behind. you’re still staring at the bear over eren’s shoulder. he glances back over at you and stops in his tracks, eyes roaming your face. 

the infuriatingly endearing curve of your mouth in a surprised ‘o’ and then quirking into an adorable smile. the way your eyes flutter shut from how wide your smile is, the slight lift of your shoulders like the happiness inside you manifested into a force that could lift you off your feet. 

“here.”

your eyes go big and your cheeks tinge pink as eren holds out the bear to you. you shake your head quickly. “what? no, i can’t…i mean, you won it.”

he scoffs and clicks his tongue. “what am i gonna do with it? here, you can add it to your fuckin’ collection. don’t even lie, i’ve seen ‘em on your bed. you don’t even try to hide them.”

your cheeks flush even more pink, along with the tips of your ears. you laugh bashfully. “yeah. i guess. but i really-“

“just take it already,” eren sighs, huffing like he’s irritated but really he’s just trying to cover up his blush. 

you hesitantly reach out as eren drops the bear into your arms. 

he laughs when the momentum of the large bear drags you down with it, nearly collapsing like a sack of flour. 

butterflies erupt in his stomach when you make a little ‘oof’ sound and try to regain your balance. eren chuckles and takes your hand in one of his own, the other reaching out to rescue to poor bear just inches away from the dirty floor. 

“c’mon, you klutz,” he snorts, helping you to your feet. “i’ll carry him for you, okay?”

you shake your head in a daze. “you say that like you didn’t buckle under it when you grabbed it first, too. but thanks.”

eren just hums, hoisting the bear onto his back and taking your hand, continuing to wander the park with you.

“what’re you gonna name him? don’tcha have a whole ritual and everything?”

you giggle. “i don’t know. what does he look like his name is?”

eren pretends to think it over, glancing back at the bear smiling pleasantly at him. 

“i think he looks like a ‘big pain in the ass’.”

“eren, stop it! you’re verbally abusing him,” you whine, but you’re laughing. “maybe i’ll name him armin. so he’s not mean, like you.”

“no freakin’ way you’re naming him after armin! did armin win this for you?”

“jesus, eren, just tell me to name my firstborn after you,” you snort, petting the stuffed bear between its ears. 

“you definitely should. i’ll even name my firstborn after you.”

you laugh, reaching a hand up to smack playfully at eren. “who would ever put up with you long enough to marry you?” 

eren catches your hand easily, intertwining your fingers and says nothing, instead smiling warmly down at you. 

you would, i hope. 

you take a seat on a bench, admiring the light from the sun sinking low to the horizon and washing the entire park in golden hues. 

“i would,” you state firmly, and eren turns to look at you in surprise, mortified that somehow you were able to read his mind. 

“huh?”

“i’d marry you,” you repeat matter-of-factly. “like if you were about to get deported, i’d marry you to keep you here. or if you had a secret uncle who left you a huge inheritance but you had to be married to get it, i’d do it. or like if we were in olden medieval times, if i had to have an arranged marriage, i’d pick you.”

eren just stares at you dumbfoundedly. “what the fuck?”

you were weird. he knew that. you’re prone to spout nonsense. it’s part of what he likes about you. in what scenario would eren be deported? he was born here. and what chance would he have of getting some huge inheritance from some relative he didn’t know? and how in the world would you ever end up in a medieval situation? but nonetheless his cheeks are still red and his heart is still beating fast. you’d pick him. he knew you didn’t explicitly mean that you’re romantically interested in him, but still, it made his heart jump in his chest to know that of everybody you knew (and that was a lot because you’re something of a social butterfly) you’d pick him. it didn’t matter for what, you would pick him. 

he smiles and you beam up at him. 

“i’d pick you too,” he hums, slinging an arm over your shoulder and pulling you close. you giggle, nuzzling your head in his neck. 

it feels warm and just right, the way you fit into his arms. like maybe it was meant to be. 

[that-house]

December 3rd, 2031 – Sixty degrees, clear skies, and a nice southeasterly breeze. It was a beautiful day to lay siege to Dallas. It was a good thing the weather was nice, because everything else about the operation looked rough. Marian couldn’t wait.

Dallas was a classic Texan fortress-city, two rings of forty foot tall concrete walls with a killing field in between, bristling with anti-aircraft cannon. The ground-facing defenses were a little less thorough, but a few machine guns would make quick work of any infantry charge and Dallas had more than a few machine guns.

“We aren’t being paid enough,” Suzy griped. She was crouching in the shade, alternatingly blowing a bubble of gum and taking swigs out of a bottle whose contents were hidden by a paper bag.

“We’re mercenaries. Get used to it.” Marian hoisted her gun onto her shoulder. “Besides, they don’t exactly expect us to succeed.”

“Oh, are we leading a suicide charge? I wasn’t paying attention to the Duke.” Suzy was never paying attention, but the benefits of having her around outweighed the drawbacks. Most days, at least.

“Pretty much.”

“Did the guys we’re with know this was a suicide charge?”

Marion looked around at the Jeep the Duke of Austin had hastily assigned the duo to. The soldiers suddenly all looked a bit green around the gills. “I’m guessing not. Chin up, boys! Auntie Marian won’t let any harm come to you.”

One of the men, a lieutenant, managed to find his voice. “Why are we here?”

“The Duke hopes that we’ll die loud enough that Dallas won’t notice his bombers taking out the emplaced guns. Doesn’t strike me as very sound tactics, but hey, he’s got manpower to make up for what he lacks in brains.”

Silence in the back of the Jeep.

Marian continued, mostly to fuck with them. “And don’t think the tanks’ll be any help. See those big fancy guns up on the wall? Those are lonestar guns. You boys seen lonestar guns?”

“Yeah.”

“So you get the idea. But hey, cheer up! It’s not every day you get to storm the best-defended city in the state!”

The man slowly came to a revelation a long time coming. “You’re insane,” he said.

“Insane was my father’s name. Please, call me Marian Typhoon.”

Suzy cackled. “That was terrible.”

The soldiers looked between the two women, now realizing they were both mad. “How are you two so calm?”

Marian didn’t answer for a moment, looking out at the slowly-approaching walls of Dallas. The lonestar guns’ targeting algorithms would start flagging the vehicles soon. “Suzy, how far out are we?”

“About a mile and a half.” Suzy busied herself checking over her rifle.

“Now, boys, I’m gonna explain two concepts very quickly, so you’d best pay attention. The KL-90 fully automatic sniper rifle, sometimes called “Le Papillon,” was something of a failure, because for some reason those glorious Frenchmen decided to make it fire 1200 rounds per minute, giving it a tendency to dump the entire mag into one poor fucker. Only six were ever made, and nowadays they’re just museum pieces. In 2026, the American military plunged into the deep end of bioweaponry and concocted a little something known as the ‘vampire virus,’ which proved pretty damn lethal in 99.99% of cases. The 0.01% that survived were problematic enough that the program shut down, and all information about it was expunged from the record.”

Marion patted Suzy affectionately on the head. “Now you might be wondering how those two disparate pieces of information might happen to overlap, and if you boys just sit pretty for a moment I reckon you’ll be able to connect the dots. Suzy?”

The last surviving vampire, Suzy Nines, slotted the magazine into her KL-90 fully automatic sniper rifle, and squinted out at the Dallas walls. She squeezed the trigger, the barrel swinging into a wild blur of motion as the sound of gunfire filled the air. “Machine gunners down. Reloading.”

Marian patted the hapless lieutenant on the shoulder. “Come along, boys. Auntie Marian’s got a city to take.”

[mattsturnioloz]

Then I lost you: Pt 5. (last pt.)

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4.

Summary: Matt's career as a youtuber takes a toll on his 4 year relationship with his girlfriend, putting it on hold. Will it ever be the same again?

Warnings: angst, unresolved angst, crying, fluff!!

Pairings: Y/n x Matt Sturniolo

A/N: (This is gonna be the last part, it’s gonna be sad but hope you guys will love it 🫶🏼 Also I fell asleep in the middle of writing this so forgive me if it’s not my best😖 I recommend listening to the song while reading 😚)

(Also since this part is really long I recommend just replaying the song over and over until the end of the story :) if you wanna cry☠️)

Matt’s Pov:

I drive back back home, The car silent and the negative thoughts come to my head but I quickly drown them out by playing music.

I get home and open the front door, and I go up the stairs to the living room and see Chris and Nick both laying on the couch watching some netflix show and I lay in between them, putting my head on Nicks shoulder. Somewhat needing to feel my brothers comfort.

“Are you okay?” he speaks up looking at me on his shoulder. I shake my head while staring at the tv and picking at my nails. He puts his arm around my shoulders and rests his head against mine and Chris rubs his hand up and down, on my partly exposed back and they exchange sympathetic glances at eachother.

Nick and Chris fall asleep during the show and I get bored, closely listening to the analog clock that we have above the couch, ticking, and the soft snores of Chris and Nick filling my ears.

I decide to get up and clean up around the house, doing basic chores until later in the day when it’s time to get ready. I shower quickly so that I don’t have time to think about the negatives. I grab the towel and dry myself off before going to my room.I go to my closet. The side where y/n’s clothes used to be is empty and the sight hurts. The hangers just.. hanging.

I knock out of it and I change into a plain light grey, almost white hoodie, and light blue baggy jeans with a pair of white air forces. Something casual but nice.

I’m nervous, like I was before picking her up for our first date, 5 years ago. I know where im taking her already and I can’t wait, but it’s going to bring back memories and i’m not sure that it’s a good thing right now.

I put on my Vivienne Westwood earrings and necklace to match before fixing up my hair. I hook my keys on the belt loop of my jeans and I spray cologne and deodorant before turning off my room light and heading out closing the door behind me.

I would say bye to Nick and Chris but they’re passed out on the couch so I go down to the stairs to the front door, leaving and locking the door after I walk out. I walk over to my car, getting in and I can feel my heart beating out of my chest.

I stop by a flower shop and I grab a bouquet of plumeria flowers, her favorite. The same ones I got her on our first date with all sorts of pretty colors that all go well together. They’re beautiful and vibrant, just like her.

I pay for them before I go back out my car and I get in buckling my seatbelt and I take a deep breath before I start the car and I start driving to Y/n’s house. Y/n’s house.

I break down in sobs, letting my cries out before I get to her place. I feel like I can’t breathe, gripping the wheel so tight, that my palms start to turn white.

I get there and park before putting the mirror down and making sure I look okay. I get out taking a deep breath, taking in the warm Los angeles sunset. I go over to her front door and let my fist hover over the door for a moment, my palms sweaty and I wipe them before I knock.

———- ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆ ———-

Y/n’s Pov:

I’m changing into a nice simple white dress, when I hear a knock on the door. Shit. I hope I look okay. I dust my dress off in the mirror while also checking if my makeup looks alright before grabbing my purse and turning off the lights. I go to the front door and open it to see Matt standing there. He looks so good.

“Hey baby..” He says with a warm smile. He looks nervous, exactly like he did on our first date. It’s radiating off of him and I feel my palms start to sweat. I see tear stains on his cheeks but i’d rather not bring it up and ruin the mood.. Instead I wrap arms around him and hug him.

I can feel my body shaking, I don’t wanna lose him. Why are we even trying? What was the point of splitting up if we were just going to act like a couple? Technically today, we still are one.

We finally let go of what will be one of our last hugs. My heart is still aching to the point where it’s starts to hurt physically. “Youre so beautiful.. you always have been..” He says in the sweetest, most gentle tone. He grabs me the waist pulling me closer, while looking me up and down in awe.

“Thank you baby..” I reply, smiling and I press a kiss to his lips. “You ready to go?” He asks. His tone almost sad. But I nod and smile in response.

This is what I was still holding on to. Moments like these. Moments like last night, and this morning. I love him. So much. I wish he would just tell me that he takes it all back. That he wants to be with me. That he wants to try again.

———- ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆ ———-

Matt’s Pov:

I grab her hand after she locks her door and I lead her to my car, opening the door for her. She kisses me on the way in before smiling at me. Her smile makes my heart flutter. She’s so beautiful. Everything about her is just so beautiful.

I kiss her again before shutting the door and making my way around the car and into the drivers seat. We buckle ourselves in before I start the car. The sun still setting by the minute.

I roll the windows down, the air warm and fresh, and Y/n plays music, singing along with it, and I can’t help but smile and steal a few glances at her. We stop at a red light and I reach in the backseat. She looks at me, confused and I grab the plumeria flowers, handing them to her.

She freezes and she looks up at me almost in shock. She knows. I can tell that she wants to cry but she doesn’t. She flashes me a big smile. “Thank you so much baby, I love them!” She says with the biggest smile before smelling them. “Of course, i’m glad you like them..” I say reaching over and putting my hand on her thigh, caressing it gently before just letting my thumb glide side to side.

I’m devastated that i’m losing all of this. I can’t believe I treated her the way I did. I wish I could take back everything i’ve said to hurt her. Maybe this wouldn’t be happening. If i would’ve just treated her right and gave her the love and attention that she deserves. I let my career get in the way of our relationship. Our love.

“I’m glad we’re doing this.” I say, glancing at her. “Me too, Matt. I’m really glad.” She responds. “I’m sorry.” I say, my voice cracking. Dammit, why do I keep crying. She turns her head too quick to look at me. “I’m sorry for all the things I did and said to push you away. I’m sorry I didn’t treat you better.” I swallow the lump in my throat. She takes my hand that’s still on her thigh and she kisses it.

“It’s okay Matt.. like you said, it’s for the best.. It just wasn’t working for either of us…” I nod and I want to tell her that I take it back, but I can’t. I know I can’t.

“Now let’s talk about something else to get your mind off of it yea?” she says smiling at me. How can she smile? How can she keep her composure when she’s probably more hurt than I am. I’m the one who said it won’t work. But I nod again. We talk about some more random things like our careers and future projects we might have planned and want to do.

We arrive at the restaurant and she looks at me with her jaw dropped while smiling. The same restaurant that I brought her to on our first date. “Ravioli?” She asks with a shriek, her voice crackling when she does. “Ravioli.” I nod chuckling her reaction.

I kiss her hand before unbuckling my seatbelt and I get out, making my way to the passenger side and opening the door for her, grabbing her hand to help her out. “I swear, you’re so beautiful baby.” I say closing the door before wrapping my arms around her waist pulling her closer and I kiss her.

“I could look at you for the rest of my life, and never get tired..”I mumble, against her lips before moving my kisses down to her jaw, then to her neck. She giggles at the feeling, making my heart flutter at the sound of her laugh.

I leave a small subtle hickey before pulling away and kissing her lips one more time and I grab her hand. “Let’s go.” I say, locking the car as I lead her towards the restaurant.

We go inside and I request the same table we had on the first date and thankfully, it was available. We get seated and handed our menus but we don’t bother to look inside because we both know we’re getting ravioli.

“I love that we’re recreating our first date.” She says, reaching across the table to hold my hand. “I thought you might. It feels like our first date all over again.” I smile, planting a gentle kiss against her knuckles.

The waitress comes over and we order, and not long after we get our food. We talk, eat and laugh about old times for hours, and eventually we’re the last people at the restaurant, the night coming to an end.

I pay the bill and we go quiet. Neither of us wanting the night to end. We stand up and I grab her hand leading her out the restaurant and I walk over to the trunk grabbing a blanket. “We’re going to the park too?” She smiles looking back towards the park next to the restaurant and I nod smiling.

“Gotta recreate our first date for our last.” I say placing a kiss on her temple. I lead her towards the park, the only lights being the dim street lights. I lead her to the grass, placing the blanket down and I kneel, helping her down before we both lay, looking up at the stars with her head and hand resting on my chest.

This feels right. The coldness of the night breeze making me feel peace. The mix of the stars and the streetlights, highlighting her features perfectly.

Hours pass. We talk while stargazing and eventually it’s 2 am. “I don’t want this night to end..” She’s says quietly. “Me neither baby..” I say, holding her closer.

Eventually we get up and she start to shiver so I wrap the blanket around her and hold her for a little before we stroll down the park back to my car.

I open the passenger door and let her inside before shutting the door while taking a deep breath and walking over to my side. I get in and it’s quiet. I glance at her and I can see her devastation.

I start the car and start driving towards her house. I put my hand on her thigh again, caressing it, and she grabs my hand intertwining her fingers with mine. The whole ride there silent.

When we arrive, I look over at her and she’s already looking at me with tears rolling down her cheeks at a rapid pace and she breaks down into sobs, her breath pace increasing.

To no surprise I start crying too. I get out of the car running to her side, opening the door and practically yanking her out, into a hug. Her sobs are killing me. “Listen to me Y/n.” I say lifting her head from my chest, cupping her cheeks, and wiping her tears with my thumbs.

“I’ll always be here for you, i’ll always love you so much, you’re the love of my life. No matter what, it’s always gonna be you baby.” I cry softly, pulling her head back to my chest. Her cries die down and all I hear is her occasional sniffling. “I love you, Matt..” she hiccups. “I love you too y/n.. more than life itself. I always will. Always and forever..” I say mumbling into her hair.

She pulls back and kisses me, and we make out slowly and passionately, taking our time, tears mixed in between. I give her one more soft loving kiss but eventually we part and my heart shatters into so many pieces to the point where i’m not sure that there even is one.

We let go of eachother and she makes her way towards her door and when she reaches it she looks back at me one more time. “I love you.” She says, with a teary smile. “I love you more.” I say smiling back, my own tears rolling down my face.

She watches me a little longer before turning around and unlocking her door, disappearing inside after she closes it. I take in the bittersweet moment. The love of my life is officially gone.

I take deep breaths as I walk to my door and I get in, starting the car and immediately driving away, because if I didn’t, I would be banging on her door begging her to stay with me.

———- ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆ ———-

Y/n’s Pov:

I feel my heart break the more that I watch his car fade into the distance through my window and after i can’t see it anymore, I walk over to my couch and plopping on it. The silence too silent, like im drowning in it.

I look at the promise ring on my finger that he gave me long ago when we hit our 2 year anniversary. Taking in the memories that came with it. Remembering every detail of that beautiful night.

I stare at the boxes of my things that are still packed and I look around, taking in the emptiness and loneliness of my new home. 5 years with the love of my life… gone.. and I miss him already.. I miss him so much and all of our memories come flooding back. But then I realize that this was goodbye.

———- ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆ ———-

Matt’s Pov:

As I drive further away from y/n’s house, a part of me is gone and feels like it’s been taken, but I know this was my doing. It’s all my fault. I need somewhere to go. To feel at peace. But then it hits me. The beach.

I drive to the beach, trying to drown out the painful after thoughts of losing y/n and the aching in my chest. My vision becomes blurry when soft tears fill my eyes.

I play music to try and drown out the images. The images of her smiling at me. The sound of her laughter. The sound of her crying. But it’s all too much and it doesn’t help that white ferrari by frank ocean starts playing.

When I get to the beach I park and pause. As if time stopped and I take in the sight, the memories flooding back all at once.

———- ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆ ———-

Flashback:

“Where are you taking me?” Y/n giggles, as my hands are covering her eyes. “Be patient my love, you’ll see..” I say placing a kiss on her temple. I lead her to the spot at the beach and I uncover her eyes.

A whole picnic set up for us with blankets, pillows, her favorite snacks and board games. “Oh my god..” She says looking back at me with her jaw dropped and she jumps into my arms and I catch her, holding her up by her thighs, kissing her face repeatedly.

Her skin is soft and her hair is flowing with the night breeze making her look more beautiful than ever. The city lights reflecting on her face, highlighting her beautiful features.

I put her down giving her a kiss and I pull her down onto the blankets and pillows. “I have one more surprise for you my love..” I say, brushing her hair out of her face and tucking it behind her ear.

“Another one? Baby you didn’t have to-“ She says. “Shush, you deserve it and so much more.” I say cutting her off and pulling out a ring. “It’s a promise ring.”

She smiles and her eyes well up with tears. “Matt that’s so sweet oh my goodness..” She says trying to hold back her tears. I pause and take a deep breath before speaking.

“Y/n I promise to always be here for you, to be the one who cherishes your love. I promise to be faithful and to be the man that you deserve.” I say, sliding the ring on her ring finger. “I promise to be the woman you deserve too baby.. I promise i’ll always love you..” she says hugging me.

After that she lays in my lap, her upper back against my chest and her head against the crook of my neck as I hold her. We watch the stars and stare out into the darkness of the ocean, the city lights reflecting onto the water. The night is perfect and so is she.

I turn her face towards me and I gently kiss her lips. “I love you Y/n..” I say with a smile. “I love you more baby..”

———- ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆ ———-

I walk towards where the sea meets the land and I sit in the very spot from that night, I breathe and take in the night air. The waves crash gently against the shore, a soothing rhythm that once matched the beat of our hearts.

I sat at the edge of the ocean, the place where we made our promises. The night sky seems endless, but it only reminds me of the distance between us now. Every memory we shared flashed before my eyes, each one more vivid than the last. The laughter, the tears, the promises we made.. they all feel so close, yet so far away.

In that moment, I realize that everything we had was slipping through my fingers like sand and I regret everything I said that pushed you away, I just want you back.

The echoes of our last conversation lingered in the air, haunting me with every breath I take. The place we once cherished now feels empty, a different contrast to the warmth you brought into my life.

The sky darkened, identical to the darkness I now feel in my life. The gentle breeze that once brought your laughter now carried only silence.

I sat there, hoping for a miracle, a sign that you might come back. A sign that this wasn't the end. I could only hope that we’d find each other again when the time was right.. but for now, I whispered your name one last time, knowing deep down that this was goodbye, and just like that you were gone.

Then I lost you.

———- ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆ ———-

3,086 words.

A/N: (Ahhh my first series is finally finished!! I’m so devastated, and i’m as we speak. Thank you all for the support and I really hope you guys love this last part :) thank you 🫶🏼)

Taglist: @urmom69lol @imwetforyourmom @tsturniolo4 @watercolorskyy @starzinasblog @urfavstromboli @sturniqloo @star-yawnznn @h3arts4harry @asherrisrandom

[captain-space-kin]

My take on the regional Sora’s trend! She’s an alien now >:3

I had no idea what to do for this initially, but then it hit me, I could just shove her into my OC story. If I have the motivation I might shove everyone else into it too! I roughed out some ideas for the main cast while working on this.

A (sort of) brief lore explanation and tag list under the cut o7 (also tumblr killed the quality so click for a better view etc etc)

A lot of this still a work in progress since I’ve been changing this species lore a lot recently, but! Starsino’s are a semi-aquatic vaguely amphibious + reptilian race, whose society at large bears a striking resemblance to Imperium (hence why I chose it for Sora). Their eyesight is not great, and as a whole the species used to have a sixth sense that would them navigate in difficult to see areas like underwater (similar to a platypus!). At some point the ✨Space Fae✨ (not an 100% accurate description but it’d take too long to explain their lore afshhdf) came down and gifted them the ability of True Sight. Which expanded their sixth sense to allow them access to telepathic/telekinetic abilities. Eventually the ✨Space Fae✨ got bored and left but also took the True Sight with them, which inadvertently cut off their species ability to access this sixth sense at all, which caused their entire society to collapse. Not everyone lost their “sight” but the majority of people did. Some people are still born with the sixth sense and even True Sight, they’re called Seers and True Seers respectively.

Nowadays there are two major factions of Starsino’s society, The Dictatorship, and The Cult. Both are trying to restore everyone’s access to the True Sight they’re just going about it a different way. There’s a lot more to it them this but it can basically be boiled down to a Science Vs. Magic thing.

Sora being born with True Sight (which is where her tech manipulation stuff comes in), is taken from her family as a baby and given to the Science People to experiment on. Eventually she escapes and makes it out of Starsino controlled space. Where she meets Arin! Who is just some human guy who managed to get off of Earth somehow, idk I haven’t really worked that all out.

Anyway! Gonna try to not let this be an all consuming project like my AU’s usually are, but it is oh so tempting

Tag list -

@Inspectorghoul @fading-through-existence @juniperjellyfish @carmelo-san @lightningchicken

@crying-over-cartoons @officercooks @mywasasi @ashclouds366 @basicallyjaywalker 

@finn-m-corvex @garmaballs

[suzukiblu]

WIP excerpt for qwertynerd97 behind the cut; Billy adopts Conner and it actually goes pretty good! (( chrono || non-chrono ))

“Yeah,” Billy says after a moment. “I’m not gonna make you do stuff like that. Um, well, like some normal chores and following your curfew and taking your phone with you when you go out, I mean, but not like–um. Yeah.” 

Lynn doesn’t say anything. He just keeps looking into the living room. Billy looks too, but doesn’t see what he’s looking at. His line of sight’s too high to be looking at Tawky, and the TV’s off, and–

Oh. Actually . . . 

Is he looking at the windows, actually? 

Huh, Billy thinks again. 

Lynn stops looking at the windows, or maybe just the living room, and then goes and opens the oven and stares blankly into it for a moment. Then he reaches in bare-handed and–

“Oven mitt!” Billy says quickly, zipping over to him and grabbing a pair of them off the hook they’re hanging on on the way. Lynn stares at him just as blankly as he was staring into the oven, and also just as blankly as he’s been staring at him, and probably he’s thinking Billy is stupid because he’s, like, invulnerable and all, but the thing is–“Secret identity,” he clarifies, and holds the mitts out to Lynn. “You gotta be careful about doing stuff baseline humans can’t, even if you think you’re alone or only around people in the know. And like, you have to make it a habit to do stuff baseline humans would have to anyway, or you might forget to when you aren’t alone. Also Batman didn’t install the new windows yet so I’m not sure if these are privacy ones, honestly, so somebody could maybe see from across the street anyway?” 

Lynn stares at him for another moment, then flicks his eyes down to the oven mitts. Billy feels awkward and kind of like a worrywart, but it is important. He definitely doesn’t turn into Captain Marvel when anybody else even might be watching, and also if Lynn’s keeping those habits from the start it’ll be easier for him in the long run, right? Or at least, Billy thinks it’ll be easier? Like–probably? 

He fidgets a little and tries not to look nervous. Lynn glances at his face for a moment even though his own expression doesn’t change at all, then takes the oven mitts and . . . well, he uses them more like potholders than actually, like, putting them on, but still counts, Billy figures. Lynn takes out all the pans and puts them all on top of the stove, and then closes it and sets aside the oven mitts and turns it off. 

“. . . thanks,” Lynn says more in the oven’s direction than Billy’s. Billy feels a little relieved, because “don’t do stuff baseline humans can’t when it’s not safe to” is a pretty important thing, so far as secret IDs and all go. 

“Sure!” Billy says, then peeks curiously at the food. “So, um . . . is it done?” 

“. . . it has to rest for five minutes,” Lynn says, and then turns away abruptly and walks into the living room to bring back the plates, which is, um, probably something Billy should’ve remembered was gonna need to happen before he took them out there, come to think. 

Whoops. 

Well, he guesses they could use serving dishes, probably, because Batman bought them way too much everything and there are so, so many serving dishes, but that’s more dishes to wash so yeah, Lynn’s definitely taking the right approach here, Billy decides. 

Though he has no idea why dinner has to rest. Like–what does that even mean, “rest”? It’s food. 

“. . . why?” Lynn asks, and holds up Tawky’s little plate with a faint frown. 

“Oh, Tawky doesn’t need as much to eat as you do,” Billy clarifies. Tawky only needs a lot to eat when he’s being a full-sized tiger, and he’s being an stuffed animal the same way Billy’s being a dad right now instead of just Captain Marvel, so he won’t have the stomach space for big meals until, like, the next time they have to save the world, probably. Or a mission. Or something like that, anyway. “Or as much to eat as you probably do, since we’re still figuring that out. But probably not, either way. Like–I don’t need to eat either, I mean, but like, different-sized stomachs and all, sooo . . . bigger plate, I guess. Sorry, is that rude, do you think? I wasn’t trying to be.” 

“. . . uh,” Lynn says slowly, frowning at Tawky’s plate instead. “Okay.” 

Well, it’s not exactly an answer, but Billy guesses he can double-check with Tawky later. It’s kind of more important what Tawky thinks anyway, since it’s him he’d be being rude to, and also he really shouldn’t be expecting Lynn to really get, like, manners and intent versus affect and that kind of thing yet anyway. Although either way having a full-sized tiger in the apartment would definitely not be great for the secret identity thing, even just for mealtimes, so they’d have to figure something out there. 

Well, he guesses they could just go to the Rock of Eternity for dinner, actually? Like, cook in the apartment but pack themselves dinner-picnics or something. Actually, that sounds kinda fun, he’d like to show Lynn what it’s like and maybe explain a little more about what accepting a share of his powers would mean, if he did, and– 

Focus. He definitely needs to work on his focus. That’s way more important when he’s being a dad. He doesn’t want Lynn to ever think he’s ignoring him, for one. 

“I’ll ask him later,” Billy says. Tawky’s probably still reading anyway; he was while Billy was setting the coffee table. He had the biography of Nikola Tesla they’d picked out, which is pretty normal reading fare for Tawky, really. He likes nonfiction a lot, especially the historical stuff. Billy doesn’t really get it, personally.

[kingofbodyrolls]

Friendcation (m) | myg | pregnancy special

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

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

← previous | s.masterlist | m.masterlist | next →

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Blood. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Two lines. 

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

Two lines.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[achilles-rage]

Good Luck Charm: Chapter 19

college football player!buck x plus size!reader

summary: evan meets your parents.

word count: 4.1k

previous chapter

series masterlist

a/n: kinda love the last part of this chapter. also me using 911 stories because I simply cannot think of any:😋 enjoy<3

warnings: none, fem!reader, plus size!reader, race inclusive!reader

You stand in front of your childhood home, grinning ear to ear as you take in the holiday decorations and the dim street lights illuminating the now-dark street your parents live on. Evan is standing beside you, but his expression is not as happy as yours. While he’s happy to be here with you, and knows that once he’s met your parents, everything will be fine, as long as your parents like him, he’s still filled with nerves.

His hand is tightly gripping yours as you walk up to the front door while the other is clenched at his side. He’s never met a girl’s parents before; he’s not sure what he’s about to walk into. He goes over the list of things you told him in his head: talk about football with your mom, and ask her about her most recent hobby; this month it’s her beginners pottery class, and talk to your dad about his studies. Most importantly, if all else fails, ask your dad about his job. 

He’s only pulled out of his mental checklist when he hears your voice from beside him, and your hand squeezing his in an attempt to lower him back to Earth. He looks over at you with a blank expression, and you laugh softly. He definitely didn’t hear you, you think, and he looks like he’s about to throw up.

“I said, it’s gonna be okay. Please don’t worry so much.” you tell him sincerely. While it’s true that you’re not sure how your parents will react to Evan, although you think your father may go with the protective dad approach, you know him being nervous will only make it worse.

“Easy for you to say, they’re your parents.” he says in a slightly joking tone, but he doesn’t smile. You sigh, turning him to face you and grabbing his collar to pull him down into a chaste kiss. Once you pull back you look up at him as you tilt your head to the side, trying to catch his gaze.

“Ev, I promise, it’s gonna be fine. Okay?” you say sternly, and although he nods, he can’t help but speak again.

“What if they don’t like me?” Your eyes soften at his words, and you can see the insecurity in his face. You’re so used to seeing him as the confident football player he is around everyone else that you almost miss it, but it’s very much written across his face.

“What’s not to love? And either way, I like you, and they’ll see that.” you say in a soft voice, pulling him down once more to peck his lips. Once you pull away he lets out a loud breath, then nods, mumbling a soft “okay.” You nod back, then turn and open the front door, smiling immediately as the smell of your mom’s favourite candle fills your nostrils. There’s two things you can count on when you come home, your mom’s Champagne Toast candles, and your dad’s work stories.

Your parents come to the front hallway as soon as they hear you call out for them, your mom from the kitchen and your dad from the living room. You grin as you let go of Evan’s hand, giving them each a hug. You might not be as close to your parents as you once were, but the distance while you’re away at USC definitely helps, and every time you come to visit, you’re more excited to spend some time with them. Evan watches with a small smile; he loves seeing you so happy, but he can also feel his heart clench. He’s always wanted this type of relationship with his parents, and he wonders what being this close to your parents would be like. 

“You must be Evan.” your father says, and Evan freezes as everyone’s eyes move to him. He slaps a smile onto his face, taking a step forward to your father as he reaches out to shake his hand. Your father gives him a small smile as he shakes Evan’s hand, a small hint of surprise on his face at his actions. You and your mom look at each other as you watch the interaction, giving each other a knowing look. Both of you are very curious to see how this will go, but you both know that this is a good first step.

“Nice to meet you, sir. And you too, ma’am. Your house is beautiful.” he says in a serious tone. He turns to shake your mother’s hand, but she waves him off and pulls him in for a quick hug. You watch with a wide smile, and the nerves you had settle tremendously. If this is in any way telling of how the next two weeks will go, you think you’ll be just fine.

“Well, dinner’s almost ready. Just need to pull it out of the oven, if we want to sit down.” your mother says, before turning to go back into the kitchen. With your mom gone, all three of you stare at each other, no one knowing what to say. After a moment, Evan clears his throat.

“Well, I’m gonna go get the bags from the car. Just so we don’t have to do it later.” he says, and while he’s speaking mostly to you, he keeps his eyes on your father. 

“I’ll go with you.” you tell him, grabbing his hand, ready to pull him outside. You hope he’s still not freaking out too much. You hope you can take this time to reassure him that what’s happened so far is a good sign.

“No, no. You stay here, princess. It’s freezing out there.” he says, finally turning to you. He raises your hand to his lips and kisses it softly before he drops it again, giving you a comforting smile. You feel your cheeks heating up at this. You’re not sure if he’s playing things up because you have a spectator; this is something he’d do regardless, but it warms your heart nonetheless.

Once Evan is out the door, your dad turns to you with a raised brow, crossing his arms. You raise your brow in response, waiting for the inevitable words he’s about to say.

“He treat you well?” You sigh, rolling your eyes. You know he means well, but you’re confused why he’s even asking. Why would you be with him if he didn’t? And why would you tell your father if he wasn’t?

“Yes, dad. Always.” you tell him seriously, your eyes looking into his, almost begging him to believe you. 

“Just gotta make sure. I know how college boys are.” he responds equally as seriously, almost sternly. You roll your eyes again, shaking your head. You know what he means, and you also know a little bit about how Evan used to be, but he hasn’t been like that since you’ve known him.

“He isn’t like that, promise.” is all you manage to say before Evan comes back in through the door, trying to balance all your bags in his arms. His eyes widen as he sees the both of you, both looking at him with expressions that make it obvious you two were just talking about him. He smiles sheepishly, looking between the both of you as he stands in front of the door.

“I’ll show you where to put the bags. Honey, why don’t you go help your mom with dinner.” your dad says, nodding his head towards the kitchen as he turns to speak to you. You’re about to argue back, not wanting to leave him alone with Evan to ask God knows what, but you close your mouth again just as quickly. You know your dad won’t take no for an answer, so there’s no use in arguing with him. You give Evan an apologetic smile before you mumble an “okay,” turning to walk into the kitchen.

“He seems nice. Handsome too.” you hear your mom say when you enter the kitchen, and you give her a sheepish smile.

“Yeah, he is.” you reply, your voice almost a whisper. You start taking out the plates and cutlery as your mom finishes with dinner, then you speak in a quiet tone, as if they’ll hear you from upstairs.

“Dad’s upstairs with him right now. I don’t even want to know what he’s asking.” Your mom laughs, rolling her eyes. 

“You know it’ll happen eventually. You might as well get it over with now.” she tells you with a shrug, and you nod at her words. You know she’s right, but you’re secretly hoping that this conversation doesn’t make Evan want to sneak out in the middle of the night and never come back.

“He’s a good guy. He’s smart. He’s never done anything to make me question that.” you say, more to yourself as your back is turned from your mother. She hums softly at your response, then grabs the plates from you when you turn to hand them to her. 

Your dad leads Evan upstairs and to the guest room, gesturing for him to drop his bags on the bed. Once his hands are empty and everything is on the bed, your dad grabs your bags off the bed, then gives Evan a stern look.

“You’ll be staying here, and she’ll be staying in her room. Under no circumstances do I expect to see you in her room.” he says, narrowing his eyes. Evan nods, his face void of any expression as he swallows. 

“Of course, sir.” he says, trying to keep his voice steady. He’s rarely ever felt this intimidated, but under your dad’s harsh gaze, he struggles to keep his hands from shaking. 

“I know I can’t stop you from being with my daughter like that, but I’ll be damned if you try anything under my roof.” your father cuts him off before he can give him any more reassurances. Evan nods again, trying to give him a small smile.

“Of course. I would never disrespect you, or your daughter like that, sir. You have my word.” Your father seems satisfied by his response. He also catches the nervousness creeping into Evan’s face, and he smirks. He hopes that his warning has scared him enough into actually meaning that, and without another word, he turns and carries your bags to your room.

By the time you’re all sitting down for dinner, there’s an awkward feeling in the room, thick and hot around you. You all begin to eat silently, the only sound coming from the radio your mom has in the kitchen, softly wafting through the doorway and into the room. 

After a few minutes, your mother speaks up, looking between you and Evan.

“So, how did you two meet?” You laugh softly, seeing Evan smile out of the corner of your eyes before he replies.

“We, uh, we were paired together for an assignment.” he says, looking over at you with a happy gleam in his eye. He knows that’s not exactly how you two met, but he knows that you’re still a little embarrassed about how you snapped at him the first time you met, so he doesn’t bring it up.

“Well, yeah. But, I bumped into him in the hall before that, and I sort of yelled at him.” you say sheepishly, laughing along as your mom giggles and your dad lets out a quiet, surprised laugh. 

“You yelled at him?” your dad asks you in slight disbelief. He’s been on the receiving end of your bad days, of course, but he’s never seen you like that with anyone. “And you still wanted her after that?” he asks Evan with a raised brow, a small smile on his face as he stops eating.

“I was hooked. She’s too pretty for her own good.” Evan tells your father. Then, his eyes dart over to yours, and he gives you a quick wink, smirking. You both notice how your mother is looking at the both of you across the table, and your cheeks heat up. You know your mom would like Evan immediately, but she’s looking at you with stars in her eyes, and you know that he’s definitely on her good side already.

You look over at your dad next, and your smile widens when you see him nod once before continuing to eat. If you aren’t mistaken, you think you see a hint of approval in his eyes, although you know it can’t be this easy.

You continue to eat quietly, and while the awkwardness has substantially lessened, there’s still an odd tension in the air. You feel your mind go blank as you keep eating, and although you know you should be the one to break the silence, you can’t think of a single thing to say. You feel Evan’s hand move to your soft thigh, squeezing it softly. You put your hand on top of his, letting out a soft exhale. You know you should be the one calming him right now, but you’re grateful that he’s picked up on your slight daze.

“So, I hear you’re a firefighter?” Evan says, and you smile as you see your father’s face light up. Bless your perfect boyfriend, you think. He remembered your list.

“Yeah. Dad tell him about the call with the shark on the freeway.” you say before your father can speak. You know this will take out all the awkwardness. It’s his favourite story to tell, and you know he’ll somehow turn a 30 second story into one that lasts the rest of dinner.

It’s over an hour later when you look over at the clock on the wall. Your plates have long since been cleared, and conversation has been flowing nicely since your father began his story. The stories were a great way to open everyone up, and Evan seems to know every question to ask to get your father to speak, but he also looks extremely interested in his stories. You see a sparkle in his eyes that you only really see when he’s playing football, and your nerves are gone as you listen to everyone talking to each other.

It’s also helped that your father has since learned that Evan is at school on a football scholarship. Not only does that mean he’s “strong enough to protect you,” as your father had worded it, but it also means he’s smart, which is important to your father. To him, this means he can care for you, in every sense of the matter.

You arrived at your parents’ house late, as they live pretty far away from campus, so by the time dinner is finished and everyone’s guards are down, it’s getting late. Your hand has been firmly placed in Evan’s on his lap since you finished dinner, and you squeeze it before you begin to speak. You’re sure he’s desperate for a break from being examined, and you’re getting tired, so since you had an hour long nap on the car ride here, you know that Evan’s probably tired too.

“Well, it’s getting pretty late. We should head to bed. I wanna give Evan a tour of town tomorrow, maybe go to the winter market.” you tell your parents with a smile. 

Your parents nod, and everyone begins to stand up from the table, each person grabbing their plates to bring to the kitchen.

“Thank you so much for dinner, too. It was great.” Evan tells your mom, and she beams, grabbing his plate from him.

Once the table is cleared, you grab Evan’s hand again, ready to lead him upstairs when your father speaks up again.

“And, Evan? Remember what we talked about upstairs.” Evan nods, his nervous smile coming back onto his face. He had let his guard down completely earlier, and that almost makes this worse. He murmurs a quick “yes, sir” before you drag him upstairs, calling out a good night to your parents. 

Once you’re up the stairs and in the hallway, you stop and turn to look at Evan with a raised brow.

“What is he talking about?” you ask curiously. You almost forgot about their conversation earlier, as you felt so relaxed at dinner.

“Oh, nothing. Just about keeping my disgusting hands off his daughter.” he says jokingly, taking a quick look over his shoulder towards the top of the stairs before he grabs your wide hips and pulls you into him. He kisses you deeply, and you can feel his smile in the kiss as you wrap your arms around his neck. You hum softly as you kiss him with equal fervor, then pull back after a moment, keeping your forehead pressed against his.

“You’re not doing a very good job.” you tease, then give him another quick peck. He rolls his eyes with a scoff, then chuckles quietly. While most of his attention is on you, your father’s words echo in the back of his head, and he tries to keep some of his attention on anyone that could be coming up the stairs.

“I can’t help it, princess. How do you expect me to keep my hands off of you for two whole weeks?” he asks in a slightly teasing tone, although you can tell that he actually means it. You giggle softly, shrugging as you sway side to side, feeling his warm hands through the fabric of your pants.

“You have a car, don’t you?” you ask with a raised brow. Your smile widens when he lets out a low groan, dropping his face into the crook of your neck.

“You’re gonna be the death of me, princess.” he whispers, then gives your neck a feather light kiss before looking back up at you.

“Go to bed, Buckley.” you whisper back, trailing your hands down his chest before pushing him back lightly. He lets go of your hips begrudgingly, rolling his eyes.

“I love you.” he tells you as he backs up towards his room. You smile, biting your lip as you also back up towards your door.

“I love you. And don’t even think about coming into my room tonight.” you tease. He licks his lips, eyes trailing down your plush figure as he opens the door to his room.

“You’re gonna get me into trouble, you know that?” he tells you, and you shrug, laughing softly.

“That’s the fun part.” is all you say before you turn and walk into your room. His eyes stay on your door for a moment after you close it, then he finally closes his own door, letting out a soft exhale once he’s inside. This is going to be a long two weeks.

He doesn’t even hear his door opening about an hour later. Your parents have finally gone to bed, and once you were sure they were asleep, you’re padding across the hallway in nothing but an oversized shirt and panties. You’re so used to falling asleep beside Evan that you barely even think about the consequences of your actions. 

“Evan? You awake?” you speak into the darkness once you close the door. It’s pitch black in the room; a harsh contrast from your room and the hallway, which are both illuminated by dim night lights. His ears perk up at your seraphic voice cutting through the silence and he sits up on the bed, his eyes, having been adjusted to the dark already, only just able to see the outline of your body in the darkness.

“Yeah. Come here.” he whispers into the darkness, holding his hand out for you to take when he sees you stretch out your arms.

“Where are you?” you whisper with a small laugh, hands reaching blindly in the dark. He chuckles, leaning forward and grabbing your hand, then pulls you towards him. You stumble as your legs make contact with the bed, almost falling onto him as you kneel on the bed. The only thing to stop you is Evan’s quick reflexes, as he holds you straight as you move up towards him. You remove your hand from his and use both hands to feel around again, and once they make contact with his bare chest, you push him to lay on his back. Once he’s down, you lay beside him, resting your head on his chest as his arm wraps around your shoulder. 

“You still can’t see in here?” he asks with a quiet laugh, keeping his voice as low as possible.

“It’s pitch black in here. How can you see?” He rolls his eyes, leaning down and kissing the top of your head gently.

“Sorry I don’t need a night light to sleep, princess.” he teases, although he finds it adorable. He remembers the first time he slept over at your apartment; trying to sleep with the dim light illuminating your room. He tried to unplug it, but you gave him a stern look, and he quickly backed off. 

“The dark is scary. You never know what’s out there.” you say with a small shrug, your fingers tracing patterns across his broad chest.

“Well, then it’s a good thing you’ve got me here to protect you, isn’t it?” he tells you in a teasing tone. You smile, nuzzling into his chest as his grip tightens on your shoulders instinctively, almost as if he’s now thinking about protecting you from whatever may threaten you.

“Only if my dad doesn’t catch me in here and kill you.” you tease, and he groans as he tilts his head back and closes his eyes. He knows he shouldn’t be in bed with you right now, but it’s not like he’s in your room, right?

“That’s a risk I’m willing to take.” he tells you, his voice growing a little more serious. You smile, then lift your head up to face him, your eyes finally adjusting to the darkness enveloping the room. You lean up and kiss him softly, then rest your cheek on his chest again, listening to his heartbeat as the quiet surrounds you again.

“Your dad seems to really love his job.” Evan speaks after a few minutes of silence, laughing softly as he thinks about all the stories he heard. You laugh along with him, nodding.

“Yeah, he does. He can talk about it for hours. And I mean hours. You seemed to really like the stories.” The last sentence comes out quieter, and your fingers still ghost along his bare skin as you speak.

“Yeah, they were really cool. Sounds like an awesome job.” he says, and it’s silent for a moment before he speaks up again. He feels like everything just fell into place, that he finally knows what to do. “Maybe after college I’ll apply for the LAFD.” 

Your eyes widen, and you lift your cheek off his chest again to look at him. You remember how he looked hearing the stories, and you know it makes sense, and you’re just a little surprised you didn’t see this coming.

“You’re trying really hard to get my dad to like you, huh?” you ask jokingly. He smiles and rolls his eyes, which makes you smile.

“He has to like me. I’m gonna be here for a long time.” he begins seriously, then his eyes seem to unfocus as he thinks about the job again. Helping people? Doing the kinds of things your father talked about? It sounds perfect to him. “But, seriously. I really think I should look into it.”

You nod, your eyes softening as you take in his dazed expression in the darkness. He really does look excited, and you’d be lying if you said the idea of him becoming a firefighter and staying in LA wasn’t one you welcomed.

“You should. You’d be good at it. And my dad would love you.” you reassure him. You lean down and kiss his chest softly, then lay your head back down on his chest, feeling your eyelids grow heavy. 

“And I can find a job in LA.” you say softly, trying but failing to keep your eyes open as his heartbeat acts as a lullaby. He smiles at your words, humming softly as he nods.

“Perfect. Then I’ll be able to keep you.” he says, his own eyelids beginning to get heavy. He feels an overwhelming sense of calm as he lays with you in his arms; like everything finally makes sense. He assumed you’d be able to make your relationship work, prayed you’d be able to, but now that you both have said you’re going to stay in LA, he falls asleep very easily.

likes/comments/reblogs would be much appreciated if you liked this<33

click here for my masterlist!

click here to be added to my taglist!

click here to read my request rules!

taglist: @sherlocksbaby2323 @essienoe @p14th0mps0n @celestixldarling @minsugafour @brooke0297 @zelfanswhenshecan @sarahsmi13s @avengersgirllorianna @bingbongsupremacy @nishinoyahhh @alyssanicole01 @outof-spite @supernatural-bangtanboys @sporadicmakerwerewolf @x0xchristine @pear-1206 @swanshells @tpwkstiles @lulubelle14 @cannibalhellhound @odetolocksmiths @charlie-winchester94 @hollandxxmix @evysian @buckandeddiesverison @love-kha1 @starbyun92939798 @maxinish @theking-mustdie @daeswash @911varietyposts @superlock-in-the-tardis @lilsquatch7898 @hufflepuff-spidey @starboygf @wnbweasley @damndirtylitch @eva-tts5 @alexxavicry @tatyhend @sammiejane22 @mbioooo0000 @prettybi-girly @boybandbaby @toessssw @tryingtograspctrl @azkza @rosey1981 @cryedye (if you interacted with my taglist post and are not on this list, make sure your blog is visible in seatched, otherwise i can’t tag you! + more in comments)

[localicecreambiter]

demi god LU time

the law of hyperfixations says you must combine interests at every given chance

adding a cut here as to not clog feeds!! its a real long post

i wanna hear thoughts too! so dont be afraid to comment. these are my personal opinions and i wanna hear if anyone agrees or disagrees :D (apologies for all the tags btw)

edit to add the stupid doodle

the gods all have favorites, and ironically none of them are their own kids (save for hades: he loves his kid. doesn't make him a good parent, but you know?)

In a more Zelda timeline abiding setting; Originally they weren't all at camp halfblood at the same time, but time shenanigans decided they were to be brought together

Imagine Chiron’s surprise when 7 of his dead campers waltz into camp (this happens EVERY SINGLE TIME they enter camp. Dionysus is completely unfazed, knowing the bs time shit the gods are dealing with atm)

By the time they enter camp in Wild’s Hyrule for the second time he kinda understands (Wind and Sky didnt have a Camp Halfblood, for the record, for obvious reasons)

Alternatively, its some form of modern au where they’re just from different parts of Hyrule (skyloft, downfall, ordonia, windfall peninsula, hyrule town (different from castle town), the list goes on) which would make a lot more sense for this kinda au (the world would’ve just had a LOT of calamities within the span of a few years, some of the heroes knowing about camp and others not so much)

(i think Legend, Wars, Time, Wind (post WW) and Four would’ve known about Camp Halfblood while the others were just kinda on their own until after their quests) meaning over half of them didn’t have prophecies and just went to deal with the issue themselves, possibly meaning on their journey they learned of camp

Ok well, all of them but Wars, who grew up at Camp Halfblood

All Zelda’s are children of Athena, save for Skyward Sword Zelda since she's the reincarnation of Hylia (yeah, im keeping the original Zelda goddesses! What of it?)

At some point fairly early on, a Zelda only had a son, who got together with Athena at some point and boom

Sky: child of Zeus 

self explanatory 

God of the skies? his name is literally Sky

not to mention how fucking powerful he is?

he was the "first" Link; Zeus was technically the first God, it makes sense (this is such a stupid reason)

The skies are his home, Zeus finding someone on Skyloft and “falling in love” with their love of the sky too results in this bad boy right here

The demise fight? Only a zeus kid could harbor lightning like that

A camp counselor in the modern setting (ik typically once you’re 18, you’re no longer a camper really, but shhhh)

Wind: child of Poseidon 

Don't roll your eyes, i've got a reason!!

the 4 wind gods throw a fit anytime he's sent on a quest (they all love him even if they won't admit it)

A world purely ocean and islands? Poseidon would have a fuckin ball

The Great Sea needed a hero, Wind was brought about more for necessity than out of the want to have a child (this leaves a hard disconnect between wind and the gods, knowing his dad didn’t really have him out of love for his mom but because the world needed to be saved)

The irony of Poseidon being the patron of pegasi and horses and Wind not knowing what a horse is will never not be a funny thought

Has more control over the wind than he does the sea (for now) 

he, like Legend, pointedly ignores that he's a demi-god, especially since he comes after the Hero of Time (kinda hard to live up to that, even outside of a demi-god au)

The ocean and winds are his mood ring: you upset him the wind gods are after you

In a modern setting, the same reason applies kinda; a quest under the sea would be virtually impossible for anyone but a child of Poseidon, and hell knows a cyclopes isnt gonna be sent (gotta love those prophecies) 

OR!! OR AND HEAR ME OUT

Wind isnt a demigod

The wind gods still adore him, but he doesn't have the hero’s spirit and i think that’d kinda translate to not being a demigod, yet still being the one who was destined to go on the quest because there just weren't any demigods to do it

Still not set on which id go with

Legend: child of Hades 

Ah yes, child of the big three goes on so many quests trope. Love to see it

he's Apollo's favorite favorite (Warriors is jealous as hell. Thats his dad! Wdym he likes Legend more????) 

Pointedly ignores the fact he's a demigod (at least, he definitely tries to)

Blessed by (and beefing with) so many gods from his quests

probably one of the few heroes who's spoken to their godly parent (trust me, it was out of obligation rather than free will)

Prefers helping out the more minor, underappreciated, and not as needy or bitchy gods (like Hestia, for example)

curses the Olympians constantly, they've learned to ignore him, hes their best questing kid

Sort of a general camp counselor since Hades doesn't really have kids (its technically his last year but hes been there the longest out of everyone)

Managed to block the oracle over iris message

After his trip to the dark world and lorule, the gods go haywire around him, much to his delight (because it means they leave him alone)

Hyrule: child of Hecate 

adopted by Hermes (much to the dismay of all the Hermes children)

I was on the line between Hecate, Apollo, and Hermes; Hyrule’s affinity for magic and the blood curse resulted in Hecate to win 

Very detached from the gods, the help he receives is never outright but more subtle blessings

The gods like to ignore Downfall after Legend died tbh (outside of modern, obviously)

Well, they still ignore Downfall as a city/country. 

Only learned of camp thanks to Legend, otherwise he wouldn’t have had a clue it existed

Wild: child of Athena 

Also adopted by Hermes 

One of the more chaotic children of Athena

The idea of Athena being his godly parent sourced from his resourcefulness and quick battle (or just general) strategies, along with his pre-calamity self being stoic and more on the critical side

Completely forgot he was a demigod and just let loose, Athena is more than slightly perturbed by him and yet so infatuated

Supervises archery at camp

Warriors: child of Apollo 

exemplifies almost 0 traits of his father other than his looks and his affinity for medicine (shit archer, shit musician, can't write poetry)

blessed by Athena during the war since he was struggling so much, she always has a soft spot for the heros since they fight to protect her daughters so hard (aka pity blessing) 

Actively beefing with Ares 

Aphrodite likes to keep an eye on him, mostly for entertainment (she woulda eaten the whole Cia debacle UP)

Very notorious in camp considering he was a war captain at the ripe age of 17; once learning of the whole Camp Jupiter has apartments and college for half bloods insisted and led a project at CHB to get something similar built (which is where he, Sky and Twilight stay after turning 18)

Twilight: child of Demeter

His love for ranch animals and caring for his farm lead me to this decision

Also the whole wolf thing, that also counts

Appalled by the fact Wind doesn't know what a horse is considering he's literally the son of Poseidon (jealous the kid can talk to Epona and he can't)

After his journey to the twilight, the gods kinda flicker between Greek and Roman around him so they tend to avoid him like Legend

blessed/cursed by Lupa, hence the wolf thing

Teaches foraging lessons at camp

Four: child of Hephaestus

He's the smithy, I couldn’t not say he's a Hephaestus kid

received a lot less help from the gods since he was one of the first 

started advocating that heros receive help from the divine after LU concludes so those after him have a fighting chance (not in the modern setting)

I havent played many of his games, but the kinstones sound like a thing Hephaestus would scatter across the earth as scrap from his creations

Not one of the fire wielders (the only one that can wield fire is Red when split, mostly because of the elemental bs in minish cap)

After drawing the Four Sword, Janus (despite being roman (i like to think the four sword would be a roman artifact, it just feels right)) was suddenly pretty interested and bestowed what wisdom he had for the demi-god

Vulcan, Neptune, Aeolus, and Ceres all came together to forge the elemental stones; the Minish were still the ones to bestow the sword to Hylian people

The gods tend to avoid him too, for the same reason they avoid Twilight and Legend (dark world shenanigans and the Four Sword)

He loves the damn forge at CHB, and was ecstatic seeing the one at Camp Jupiter

He was asked by Chiron if he would be interested in running a forge class for young demigods (be it his siblings or anyone interested) but sadly declined 

Has that air of responsibility to him, being a seasoned quester (and while his 3 doesn't stand to Legend’s 6, its still pretty sizable) hes looked up to by the younger campers

Time: child of Demeter Kronos? 

The Kokiri were so Demeter core dont even tell me they werent

I guess they’d kinda act like nymphs and dryads in a sense??

His abilities use to relate to his mother until the events of his first quest: the Ocarina of Time was designed to slowly corrupt the user, being a creation of Kronos’

However, it wasn’t really designed with a demigod in mind sooo…

Also self explanatory, the titan of time? Duh… huh?? what do you mean he was taken over?? What do you mean he was a child of Demeter?? No he wasnt lol that Neverrr happened

the reason he's the only “child” of a titan is mainly because of the fierce deity mask literally making him god-like, meaning he has a lot more power harbored in him sooo (the second he dawned that mask he discarded his old identity for that of a titan’s child, since it was also cursed object)

Don’t ask how he came to being Kronos’ kin, no one knows, not even he does (I do) (no, it does not imply a Hylian wandered into Tarturus and got out alive to have the baby)

Avoids interacting with the gods at all costs, he's weary of them as they are of him (even if he saved the world twice)

Extras :)

Ravio: child of Pluto 

blessed by Minerva for his natural quick witted nature and clever war strategies, if her own daughter can't succeed she might as well make sure ONE does

can tell if a rupee is real or not by glance alone

Sheerow scares the fuck out of the gods, which in turn means Ravio puts them on edge, a thing very few can achieve

the gods never gave him much thought until the events of albw, to which he suddenly gained like four pair of godly eyes on him

can and will plan one of the worlds most successful heists, refuses to participate 

also beefing with Ares (not Mars, Ares)

Based on my personal HC that Ravio’s some sort of artificer (be it replicating magic dungeon items or just flat out creating new ones) i think Vulcan has his eyes on him too

Hilda: child of Minerva 

by far the strangest child Minerva ever birthed

exemplifies the traits of a hero rather than a ruler

a little jealous her mother likes Ravio more than her

gods be damned, she's not going to let them neglect her kingdom anymore 

a force of fucking nature that single handedly forced a meeting with the gods and somehow forced them to agree to start restoring Lorule (she got the idea from Legend, who has done this multiple times for multiple different reasons)

[syrupfog]

Some part of Law chose Luffy because he thought he didn’t deserve gentleness. 

Of course he LIKES Luffy, maybe even loves him although he’d never admit it out loud. But maybe part of him chose Luffy because he saw the writing on the wall; being with Luffy didn’t mean gentleness.

It means getting dragged like a ragdoll from place to place in those creepy rubbery arms. It means being startled awake by shouting when Luffy wants food or someone sees a ship. It means getting accidentally sucker punched when Luffy’s turned into a human rubber band.

The kisses are… sort of nice, but in the way that they’re passionate; teeth hitting teeth and disgusting amounts of spit and Luffy’s tongue being too invasive in his quest to explore every bit of Law’s mouth. Law’s going to end up with a cracked tooth sooner rather than later.

He’s not PUNISHING himself; Luffy’s GOOD and JOYFUL and LIKES LAW for some unknown reason and Law will take the opportunity for as long as it lasts. But it’s true that, deep down, maybe Law just thought it made sense to be with someone who isn’t… naturally gentle.

After everything he’s done, under Doflamingo and in his quest for revenge, Law just doesn’t feel like he deserves that gentleness. Save those kind souls for people who do deserve it, while Law lives life getting dragged roughly all over an island because Luffy “saw a cool bug”.

All that to say, when Law falls asleep on the Straw Hat’s top deck, overlooking their two crews intermingling while stopped at a supply island, he doesn’t expect to wake up in the middle of a (badly) hushed conversation.

“He likes it when his hair is played with.” 

That’s Shachi’s voice. Who the fuck is he talking about? 

Suddenly there are fingers carding roughly through his fringe (“like this?”) and Law scrunches his face, trying to work up the energy to wake up and yell at everyone.

“NO, you’re gonna wake him up!” That’s Penguin. He’s the only one really good at whispering. “Slow down. Do it like you’re petting the back of a rhinoceros beetle. And scratch a little at the nape of his neck.” 

“Ohhhhh I get it!”

The fingers in his hair soften, turning feathery soft in a way that has Law melting. He realises that while he’d fallen asleep sitting up, he’s leaning over now, supported by someone a little smaller but who runs significantly hotter.

When Luffy’s dull, bitten nails start scratching lightly at the base of his skull, Law involuntarily lets out a sigh, slumping more heavily against Luffy. His body feels like lead, like he couldn’t muster the energy to move if he tried.

“Shishishi you guys were right, he loves this!” 

“Told you! Don’t let Bepo see you up here, though, he gets jealous of Law using anyone else as a pillow.” “

Bear?” Luffy’s scratching behind his ears now. His hair is definitely a mess. “Aw, he’s the best.”

“…Sure, yeah. Actually, we’re going to go distract him. You have fun.” 

“Okay!” Luffy’s not even trying to whisper now but Law can’t find it in him to be mad. “Hey if you see Sanji, tell him to bring up some meat!” 

Law slips in and out of consciousness, brain fuzzy and melting.

The next thing he’s aware of is the cold wind hitting his temple and the sound he’s come to associate with Luffy’s almost-snoring (he snores like a monster on his back, but when he’s sitting up it’s more of a light buzzing).

Struggling to open his eyes, Law sees that the ship is dark save for the emergency lights, and the decks are deserted. All except for himself and Luffy, pressed head-to-head. 

He’s going to have a crick in his neck in the morning, and he’ll need to take out his spine to crack it.

But he still feels the ghost of those fingers in his hair, and when he shifts, Luffy nuzzles his shockingly cold nose against Law’s cheek. 

Maybe, just for one night, Law can have gentleness.

[hsunrry]

special room // one shot harry styles

harry styles x fem!reader

summary: based on this request.

words: ~1,1k

warnings: smut18+, praise, degradation, glory hole, bondage, ball gag, knife play, oral (m receiving), unprotected sex, creampie

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“can i know already what’s gonna be in that room?” you pouted, looking up at him. it was frustrating. he was keeping you away from this one room that was empty in your house for almost two years, when he came up with ‘brilliant’ idea to do something in it. you liked surprises, of course, but not when it’s in renovation for almost two months!

“patient, sweetheart.” he grinned, pecking your pout. “they’re almost done, so i can show you what it is tomorrow.” you were guessing so many times already what could possibly be in this room, but you’d never expect what he showed you the next day. when he opened the doors for you, you froze and your breath hitched in your throat. “so, what do you think?” he squeezed your shoulders gently. “since we’re both into it sometimes, i figured this could be a room for it.”

“i don’t know what to say.” you spoke finally, going further into the room. you were looking at something similar to the room from 50 shades of Grey, but even more equipped. “this is amazing.” you smiled, looking around the room.

“i knew you’d like it.” he placed his both hands on your waist, leaning to your neck from behind and placing few kisses there. he let go of you and went to one of the walls. he pushed the button and wall started appearing from it towards you.

“a wall.” you said, slightly confused. “with a hole.” you looked at him.

“well, i thought we could have a glory hole here too.” he smiled.

“oh yeah, like you can actually handle me giving you a head without touching me.” you smirked. he chuckled lowly.

“we can always test it.” he grabbed the hem of your t-shirt, taking it off you. “besides, i wanted to test few things here anyway.” he left you only in underwear. he grabbed a knife from the holder, tilting your chin up with it. “what would you say, doll?” you only nodded. he looked down at your breasts covered in bra, putting a knife in between them. “i’ll just buy you a new one.” he mumbled, cutting your bra in half. he accidentally cut you, causing your quiet whine. “oh, i’m sorry sweetheart.” he grinned, leaning down with his face between your tits, licking the small amount of blood that escaped your body. he placed few kisses around this place, looking up at you. the tip of the knife traced around your nipple, causing it to harden even more than it already was. “kneel down at this side.” he gestured towards the wall with his head. you knew that he loved when you were sucking him, but the thing was: he loved to touch you while you were doing it. even if it was just holding your hair or cupping your cheek. so basically, you knew damn well that he’s not gonna last long without doing it. you kneeled down, your face at the perfect height of the hole. you could hear him undressing and after few seconds his erected cock appeared on your side of the wall. you licked your lips and spat on it right after. when you started stroking him to spread it, you could see his hand gripping the side of the thin wall. you heard a low moan when you wrapped your lips around his tip, sucking and lapping your tongue around it. “fuck.” he gasped, his hand gripping the wall tighter. you started bobbing your head on him, when suddenly you felt him pulling out from your mouth and hole.

“what are you-“ he cut you off by gripping you by your waist and pushing you on the bed. he ripped off your panties, grabbing long, black rope from one of the hooks.

“you were right.” he said, tying your hands and arms to your torso. “i can’t stand you sucking me off without touching you.” he bent your legs in your knees, spreading you open for him and tying it to the rest of your body. “so now i’ll fuck you so hard and you won’t be able to touch me.” he tied it tightly, looking at his work with a grin. he started stroking himself. “you look so good like that, holy fuck.” he gasped, grabbing ball gag from the shelf. “open wide for me.” you quickly obeyed, opening your mouth. he placed it in your mouth, clasping it at the back of your head. he pulled your body to himself, on the edge of the bed, entering your pussy in one swift motion. your moans muffled by a ball when he started pounding fast and hard. your body arched as much as rope allowed and your eyes rolling back inside your head. “taking my cock so well, such a good girl.” he panted, gripping your hips tighter. “gonna fuck you so hard, you won’t be able to walk tomorrow.” he smacked your breast, causing your another muffled moan. his movements were fast and rough, he never fucked you that hard in your entire relationship. when he saw you nearing your climax he pinched your clit. “gonna come for me, slut?” he panted. “come on, i’m not done yet.” he fucked you at the same intensity through your first orgasm. your inner walls clenching around his dick when you cried out into ball gag. he pulled out, grabbing a knife and cutting ropes on your legs. he grabbed your hips, rolling you onto your stomach. your legs dangling off the bed when he resumed his fast movements in your cunt. your cheek pressed to the bed, when he was fucking you deeper this time. tears from mixed pleasure and pain rolling down your face on the sheets. he was panting so hard and moving so fast you could feel his sweat dripping on your ass and lower back from his hair. he quickly unclasped the ball from your head. “wanna hear you when you come again for me.”

“f-fuck.” you stuttered, your voice raspy. he grinned, moving even faster if possible. “oh my fucking god!” you cried out, clenching around his cock and triggering his own release.

“holy fuck!” he panted, filling you with his sprouts. his dick twitching inside you, emptying himself completely. he collapsed on your back, kissing your shoulder few times. only thing you could hear in this room was irregular breaths. he untied you, wrapping his body around you right after. he caressed your hair, pecking your lips few times. “you did so good for me baby, i love you so much, we’ll go take a bath in few minutes, okay?”

“okay, i love you too.” you smiled softly.

[bestworstcase]

what do you think about those predictions/theories that yang will be the next spring maiden/raven is gonna die?

file it under things that aren’t going to happen lol. for one thing, raven is like… the most unkillable character in this story aside from salem and quasi-immortal characters like the gods and relic spirits just in terms of sheer survivability—she’s been the spring maiden for almost fifteen years and she can nope out of any situation that becomes too dicey as long as at least one of her bonds is elsewhere. i think to kill raven you’d have to take her by surprise and oneshot her aura, and you’d still have to contend with the magic after that because that seems to be untethered from aura. and that’s if she doesn’t just bird it out of there.

like just thinking about it from a practical standpoint it would be tough to off her in a way that didn’t feel contrived. so she has that going for her.

but thematically like. lol. if yang were slated to become a maiden (which she isn’t, team rwby is a maidenless event), it would… be summer… obviously. the only reason anyone suggests spring is Because Raven combined with this fandom’s weird obsession with maidens passing to blood relatives (see also: winter and weiss, which also is not going to happen). but spring/knowledge does not fit yang’s character whatsoever! summer/destruction does, because that maiden’s thematic conceit is about taking action and participating in the world instead of viewing it at a distance – which is yang to a T.

(she’s even a boxer she couldn’t get more up close and personal in a fight if she tried; but like across the board yang is one of the most decisive and active characters in the show. and the one who drop-kicked raven into taking action, albeit with some delay.)

rwby is really specific about which characters become maidens and which maidens die, and raven -> yang doesn’t track on either end. also like i said nobody on team rwby is becoming a maiden. it astounds me that anyone still thinks otherwise after v8 (<- penny deliberated between the tactically correct choice [weiss] and the one her heart wanted most to say goodbye to [winter] and rejected the former option; that’s what she’s talking about when she says “let me choose this one thing” and in a meta sense this is a narrative rebuke of the assumption that team rwby must become maidens Because Protagonists.)

the maidens are the bedrock of the thematic narrative wrt ozlem and broadly every transition from one maiden to another is either about exposing the reality of ozpin’s treatment of the maidens or about affirming the personhood and humanity of the maidens freed from his system. which is notably not a layer of the narrative that team rwby have ever been deeply embedded in because they’re doing Other Things, namely tearing the old system down

which as an aside is exactly why the maidens continue to be People Close To Them, barring cinder; the point is to position ruby as penny’s defender / yang as raven’s reason to try again / weiss as winter’s lodestar, not to… set up the girls to be The Next Maidens. they’re liberators, not heirs.

[sunder-soul]

✦𝖒𝖊 𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖉𝖊𝖛𝖎𝖑✦

[read 𝖜𝖍𝖎𝖙𝖊 𝖉𝖔𝖛𝖊 here]

Chapter one: The lesser of the two evils Wordcount: 600 Header credit

“Someone’s making Horcruxes.”

If you’re being honest with yourself, whatever mental barrier that lies between the daily mess of to-do lists, deadlines, and humdrum Department bullshit holding back thinking about him, it’s a thin one. Gauzey, permeable, you’ll find him seeping into your mind when you’re staring off into the corner with at a half-finished report, bleeding in when you’re alone and waiting for the elevator, always with a sick sense of self-betrayal and something that stings an awful lot like shame–if you’re being honest with yourself.

A Friday evening at 4:56pm. That’s when McCollin decides to drop this news on you. It’s raining outside, a thick, thorough rain that falls restlessly over the dark city, framed by the single window in your office behind you. Both the lamp on your desk and the city below glow yellow-orange, the only lights left at this time of night so late into winter. That first promotion had come with bumping enough floors that people comment on the view whenever they step into the room, but more often than not they’re politely neglecting to comment on the fact that it’s Muggle London–not Wizarding–that you’re looking out over. It’s no secret that the Ministry maps out its favourites with the floorplan. The press on Riddle dropped off years ago and ever since, so subtle at first that you could write it off, that relentless, incremental push out of the limelight has been growing ever stronger. The job gets more menial, the promotions stop paying well, and slowly but surely new favourites sweep onto stage.

Here, tonight is where youre startled by the sudden sound of your door opening without a knock, and before you can even make some comment to McCollin he’s said the one thing that tears aside any aspersions that maybe one day you’ll be free of what happened.

“Someone’s making Horcruxes,” says McCollin.

You already know what’s coming next, you can feel it sinking fast into your stomach like you’ve stepped out into the dark, yellow-stained night.

“We’re gonna need his help,” McCollin says, and he says it with an apology already saturating every word, he says them heavily like he’s struggling to keep his head up to look you in the eye.

You stare at him, and the rain swells suddenly louder. You put down your quill and watch a bead of ink well at the nib.

The gravity of it is starting to weigh on you, too. They wouldn’t even be considering if it wasn’t already bad, if whatever they’ve been doing is far from working. They’d have to be desperate, very desperate, and you’re wondering what could make them consider their last possible option, Plan Z, what could be so monstrously bad that hauling Tom Riddle out of Azkaban to grill him about Horcruxes is the lesser of the two evils.

You’re thinking about his ring. You’re thinking about his last request. You’re thinking about dark eyes in a dark cell somewhere beneath the ocean and you’re wondering what he’ll be when they drag him out of there–half soulless? Half insane? How long has he been down there, rotting in the darkness, deep in the roots of Azkaban? How many times have you wondered that since you last saw him?

Your fingers are shaking.

“They want you there,” says McCollin, needlessly.

You already knew it. And god, god, here comes that sick shame and that self-betrayal, because somewhere beneath the dread­–if you’re being honest with yourself–you know that some part of you can’t fucking wait.