#was suddenly hit with a Very Angsty au idea

[joutsummer]

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[aziraphales-library]

Hi mods! I just wanted to start by saying thank you for all the work you do here, it's incredibly well organized and very helpful. I was hoping you all had some recency AU fics where they're both male presenting and are in an arranged marriage where they come to genuinely love each other. If you could find some rated E that would be great but if not that's perfectly alright.

Thank you so much!

Hey! Here are some m/m arranged marriage regency fics...

Marriage and Misery by WyvernQuill (M)

Aziraphale firmly told himself he would not make such a maudlin spectacle of himself any longer. Fine, then. He loved. Crowley did not. They were husbands nonetheless, in nothing but name; strangers apart from their wordless shared evenings and some polite conversations on occasion. Love would not - could not - change a thing. Marriage, especially the arranged variety, is an enterprise wraught with pitfalls; moreso, Lord Aziraphale Fell is quickly learning, when hearts become involved. Troublesome things, really, hearts. Only fit to break...

Circumstances of Distinction by angelsnuffbox (M)

"Once, when Aziraphale was younger and far more of a romantic, he had hoped to be swept off his feet into a whirlwind romance: to feel his heart grow asunder over the passionate thrills of love - a Shakespearean love, filled with flowery words and heated confessions. But such aspirations did not long last. In these circles of society, people married for power. For alliance. To marry for love was to condemn oneself to a life of poverty. And to find that love, out of circumstance, from the stale negotiations of a wedded alliance was above all the greatest privilege, one that could not be afforded by even the wealthiest creature in the world." * Sir Anthony Crowley has been living his independent life as a cast-out younger son when he had a baronetcy and failing estate suddenly thrust upon him. Mr Aziraphale, son of a wealthy tradesman, could be the answer to his troubles. A balance of rank and wealth, was this not just what unions were for? A series of meetings in the ballrooms of Bath will determine what fate has in store for these two. A (non angsty) Regency era arranged marriage AU

Just Married by TawnyOwl95 (E)

Aziraphale East does not wish to get married. His mother has other ideas. After all, what other choice does a gently bred omega have? When Aziraphale persists in rejecting suitors, Mrs East takes matters into her own hands. However she has thoroughly underestimated how stubborn her youngest child can be. As does his new husband.

Duty and Desire by Purple_Rose_Writes (M)

A Regency-Era GO Omegaverse Human AU Aziraphale Heavens has resisted taking a mate, but when the family hits hard times, he has no choice. His fears about being mated to an alpha he's never met are only heightened when Alpha Anthony Crowley is rather non-traditional. Is he doomed to a life of abuse and mistreatment? Or is there more to Crowley than meets the eye?

- Mod D

[the-cookie-of-doom]

Cookie's Fic Recs

I feel like no one really does rec lists anymore! But last night I was feeling and sappy and mushy and decide to put together my own little list of fics I love. These are in no particular order, and they don't follow any real theme/tropes other than I dearly love them all, and you should definitely give them a read!

*I tried to tag everyone I could find a blog for, but if I missed anyone, please let me know I can tag them!

The Instinctual Gravitation Towards Warmth by kimkhimhant (@kimkhimhant)

This is my comfort fic. No joke, this is what I read when I want to die. It’s angsty as all hell, it’s made me cry, but it is so indescribably good. Kim is an addict going through recovery, finding love and family along the way. He hits rock bottom—arguably multiple times—but always claws his way back, always with the support of the people that love him. It’s such a beautifully written and cathartic story, I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve read it. But it’s almost certainly the fic I’ve reread the most. 

Error in the Code by BlackwaterVial (@blackwatervial)

Sneaking this VegasPete onto my otherwise KimChay list bc it altered me. I think most people already know what it is, but jic: it’s a sci-fi/cyberpunk/android AU, and it’s one of the best things I’ve ever read. I go feral for androids and this fic delivers in all the best ways. The world building alone makes me weep. But all of the characters interactions, the way we get such an in depth feel for everyone despite the limited PoV, and the most satisfying take I’ve seen on android artificial intelligence ever—I can’t recommend this story enough. 

Idiots & Idioms by snickerdoodlles (@snickerdoodlles)

This one is actually a series, and it's genuinely so much fun to read. For the most part it's a SocMed fic with Chay taking over Wik's twitter and making it everyone's problem, and it's fkn hysterical. This one is actually a series, and it's genuinely so much fun to read. For the most part it's a SocMed fic with Chay taking over Wik's twitter and making it everyone's problem, and it's fkn hysterical.

Silver for Truth by snickerdoodlles (@snickerdoodlles)

This fic is the Kim & Khun vs. Tawan team-up we deserve. Kim is a ruthless, demented bitch, that's too cool to beat Tawan to death bc what if he messes up his wrists right before a show?? Big, get 'im. Kim is the feral-est cat ever, leaving behind evidence and bodies for Kinn bc saying "hey bro, I still love you/look out for you" is too much emotion for him. The fic is also from Tawan's PoV which also makes it the funniest thing ever, for reason that I won't spoil <3

The Wiked Lies We Live by shubaka (@shubaka)

Oh my god, this fic. Canon divergence (technically??) where most things happen as normal... except KimChay have been bodyswaped at the start of it. The little twists Shu puts on the events of canon, given it isn't the correct characters experiencing them (such as Big being very confused about why Kim is suddenly nice to him??) are so much fun.

A Portrait of Affection by froginthesun (@froginthesun)

Kim is an artist and Chay is the part time nude model he hires. ‘Nuff said right there, except no it isn’t, this fic is beautiful. Kim’s frustration with his craft is palpable, and so is the way he rediscovers his passion through Chay. The writing is wonderfully detailed, every chapter felt like walking through a museum. And tension slowly building between them—unf. 

Sunshine in My Closet by moneskin 

This is an A/B/O AU that is so satisfying to read. Typical hilarious boundary violations (Chay stealing Kim’s clothes, a bewildered Kim handing over a freshly worn outfit, having barely any idea who this strange kid is) characteristic of the AU, but then the story also delves deeper into more serious topics. Chay has a history of abuse from a past alpha that he has to learn how to navigate with Kim, who is incredibly patient and works hard to make Chay feel safe and loved. Overall a very sweet and comforting read. Seriously, this fic makes me melt.

Your Body Feels Like Disrespect by Blue_Jay (@bluejayfiction)

This fic is so funny because it begins with Kim blurting out, in the middle of an Important Mafia MeetingTM, that he and Chay aren’t having sex, and then wanting to die about it. Followed by Kim’s family trying very hard to both support and terrorize him. It’s hilarious, sexy, and one of my favorite reads when I need a pick me up. (Bless Kinn’s determination to be a Good and Supportive Brother, and Vegas for being the Worst Person Ever.) 

In Silent Screams (In Wildest Dreams) by BelladonnaWyck and StratsWrites 

This is definitely a darker fic. There’s DubCon, Kim is generally Sketchy, but it’s very hot. And I love explorations of his character where he isn’t just outwardly psychotic and cruel. This fic shows the kind of dark that I think Kim could have been, if you just tilted his character a little to the left. He still seems very much the way he is in canon, but he’s also… a lot more calculating and cold, sometimes. I love it. 

Forget-me-always by bisexualbard (@bisexualbard-writes)

I cannot sing the praises of this fic enough. I think it’s probably tied for IGTW for my most-read fics. I’ve probably read this one more often in reality, but only bc it’s shorter. But oh my god, does it hurt. Kim gets struck with amnesia post-break up, does a little light stalking, and gets Chay to help him learn/remember who he is. In the process realizes that wow his life sucks, and there’s no way he wants to go back to it. Especially if he’s the kind of person that hurt Chay. He would rather start over. (Ofc, he doesn’t get to). This fic makes me cry, it’s so good 

Coffeehouse Play by AirgodSLV

This is a canon divergence AU that I adore. The KimChay characterization is on point. I love that despite everything going on around them, they also get to be two boys that hang out and play videogames and try to shove each other off the couch while Porsche makes dinner. Given the age difference it’s so easy to make Kim Older and MatureTM, but he’s still a kid, and this story never once forgets that. It felt so honest and true to his character that Kim does have a lot of plans, and he’s very smart, but he’s also still so young, and sometimes shit just goes wrong. 

Want and Need by bisexualbard (@bisexualbard-writes)

God, this fic. T h i s f i c. Post-canon Chay goes to therapy and becomes a camboy (in that order) and it’s delicious. Watching the steady breakdown of his and Porsche’s relationship is so satisfying. Everything one of them does to make things worse feels awful, but is so in character that it’s hard to be mad at them for their decisions. Kim readily giving up control if it means he can be with Chay, and Chay getting a crash course in how to dom. All of it is just. So good. This is such a good fic

Your Look, Through This Lens by WildelyDawn (@wildelydawn)

AU where Chay becomes Kim’s photographer. This fic emotionally hobbled me. Just a fair warning. You will cry. But that said, the ending isn’t nearly as sad as the tags would have you believe! At least in my opinion. I think it’s fairly open/hopeful, and beautiful either way. I love the way this fic shows how Kim balances being Wik while also being part of the mafia. And I love how temperamental he is; always hot and cold, while remaining pretty even as far as how he expresses himself. Always very aloof/detached, just out of reach, with Chay never really sure where he stands/what Kim wants. But at the same time the fic happens just before Kim gets a big break, and the subtle ways he shows his excitement and nerves as things start coming together—it’s wonderful. 

Love’s a Two-Way Dream by giraffeter (@giraffeter)

This fic is dark. Kim atticwife’s Chay and it’s not a good time. But!! It’s not just dark for the sake of it; Kim is a genuine sociopath, yes, but it unfolds slowly. You get a sense of creeping dread as he does things that are just a little bit off, until finally the Big Bad Thing happens. At first he seems normal, playing the part of good and respectful boyfriend. But it just goes downhill from there, and I love every word of it. The ending especially is very satisfying. 

In the Dark of the Night by bisexualbard (@bisexualbard-writes)

Not to recc everything Bard writes, but… This is a rape recovery fic that I feel handles the subject matter incredibly well. There’s no gratuitous rape scenes, and even with the flashbacks, I don’t remember any of them being incredibly detailed. I think Bard handled the fic with incredible respect and grace. This is another one that’ll make you cry. The way Chay handles his past trauma while trying to have a relationship with Kim is so painfully real. And so is the way Kim wants to help him, but doesn’t really know how. But they figure it out together, and it’s amazing. (Also Kim acquires a stabby child in the form of an OC that I adore.) I just love the path Chay's recovery takes in this fic, it's so visceral and relatable. It's all around just. So good. I love this fic for the same reason I love IGTW and it's because both fics show an excellent depiction of recovery.

Chains and Crowns, A Flower Can Both Make by Sweet_William (@sweet-william-writes)

Incredibly Regency AU. Historical AUs are some of my all time favorites, and this is everything I didn’t know I needed. Sweet_William captures the essence of an Austen-esque style while still making this feel like the KinnPorsche characters. Chay is wonderfully feisty, Kim is delightfully complex, and the various family interactions always had me cackling. 

Simple Little Secrets by CorvusCloudburst (@cloudburst-ink)

Chay sees the future when he touches people. Kim thinks he’s either insane, a spy, or a conman. Oh, and Chay’s visions of Kim? Always sex-related. The shenanigans are endless. What more do you need?? They’re both crazy4crazy and it’s my favorite thing ever. Their banter is snappy and fun, the writing is sexy, and it never once gave me second-hand embarrassment despite Chay’s horrible situations. 

[kittythelitter]

I've seen Steve goes back in time and befriends Robin early fics. But now I'm thinking about dweeby band geek closeted friendless lesbian Robin Buckley trying to find a way to get King Steve Pre-character-development-concussions Harrington to listen to her and help her keep Barb from dying along with everyone else.

Time travel AU where theyre supposed to get a do-over like they're sent back in time from the end of season 4 to when it all started for them but for whatever reason Robin remembers in like August of 83. And she's like. It's fine I can wait like two months for Steve and Nancy and the kids to be in the loop and then she sees Barb and realizes that depending on what the catalyst is for them to remember it might be too late for Barb. So she decides to try to interfere ahead of time.

She like decides she knows Steve so well and he knows her so well that she's more likely going to be able to wake him up. So she like approaches him and like offers to tutor him and like. Knows too much about him and is a rambler who struggles to lie so she comes off as a stalker. And it's angsty and funny and devastating in turns. And he kind of believes her at some points but doesn't remember. And then she like. Accidentally comes out to him and they bond and become real friends again and then season 1 starts happening and everyone's remembering. But Steve doesn't.

Maybe it was too many blows to the head over the years. Maybe it was because Robin diverted his life so much that he can't remember. But he's still Steve. But he also doesn't remember what everyone else does.

And it's angsty and everyone's like reflecting on their relationships with Steve and how they can regain them when he doesn't remember and they do. And some of them blame Robin but like. Barb's alive and will got rescued early and everyone else remembers so they are way better equipped to go thru this again without as many losses and suffering. But Steve doesn't remember.

Anyway Steve remembers when they win. Or maybe when he gets hit in the head for the first time since they came back and he just managed to go so long without getting hit in the head and it was his trigger. Or he still gets drugged by the Russians and it all comes back in the worst most disorienting way possible. I have a lot of ideas.

[True loves kiss! Eddie version. Platonic cheek kiss Robin version. Joyce or Claudia giving him a motherly kiss on the cheek or the top of his head version. He unthinkingly drops a kiss on the top of one of the kids heads in a fraught moment where he's comforting them and suddenly remembers. There's a lot of love to choose from. ]

It has a happy ending and maybe there's Steddie but it's primarily a platonic soulmates Stobin idea.

But before the happy ending there's a lot of angst and like conflict revolving around all these people having their very specific very close relationships with Steve and he just. Doesn't remember them.

And of course there's a moment where someone says something devastating about how it doesn't really matter if Steve remembers the monsters and upsidedown stuff because it's not like he's ever been useful in the planning stages. He doesn't need to remember to swing a bat. Like really going for calling Steve dumb in a state of distress because they're really upset that Steve doesn't remember them and they're lashing out. I'm thinking Dustin or Mike but really there's a lot of good devastating options that hurt in different ways.

[holdmytesseract]

What is to come...

The majority of y'all voted for the lil' sneak peeks... So, here they are! :)

The Baby Fever AU

A Covenant For Eternity (a.k.a Y/N's and Loki's wedding. I haven't wrote this yet, but I am going to. It's coming - I promise.)

Hunter & Prey - this is pure thirst and suggestive/light smut

You were already prepared to hit the harsh ground, when you felt suddenly two strong hands on your hips; keeping you from falling and pinning you against the white wall. You gasped at his touch; only noticed now how close Loki really was.

"I got you, love." He breathed into your ear and helping you to stand properly again. Once the god made sure that both your feet were touching the ground, one of his hand engulfed both your hands. You met his eyes - and for one tiny, foolish moment, you thought that he'd finally show mercy on you, but then he roughly pinned your hands against the wall above your head with his forearm, giving him the chance to lean in even closer.

Mother Knows Best - a fluffy Loki & Frigga story; kinda based on the song 'Growing Up' by Macklemore & Ed Sheeran

"I-I'm so incredibly happy." Frigga smiled. "And it shows, son. You have all the right to be happy. You deserve it and yet... I feel something overshadowing your happiness. What is it?"

The god's eyes widened at his mother's words. How in all the nine realms was she able to- "Motherly instinct, sweetheart. You'll know what I'm talking about as soon as you hold your very own child in your arms. Tell me." "M-Mother, I-" "Nuh.Uh," she interrupted him immediately again. "Loki, when are you finally going to understand that lying to me will never work? You may be able to trick all the others around you... But not me."

Call Your Name - probably the most angsty fic I ever wrote... It's not always sunshine and rainbows.. Not even in the Baby Fever universe...

Shaky hands reached for your mobile. It was almost midnight. You had danced around this for minutes now; not conjuring enough bravery to call him. By now you've tried about a million times - failing.

So, once more you took a deep breath, squeezed your red and teary eyes shut and swallowed the lump in your throat. Your finger hovered above the green button beside your husband's contact.

The Ice Flower AU

Soothing Your Aches- a fluffy pregnancy oneshot; based on the idea by @eleniblue ! Oh, and Loki is very protective.

Loki took a deep breath; trying to control his temper. "You had one job, Ivan! Keeping an eye on the queen and her safe whenever I'm away is the only task you've been burdened with - and you fail." The king shook his head, while Ivan obediently lowered his head. "I apologise, my king, I-" The young Jotun tried to explain, but got immediately interrupted. "She is pregnant, for the Norns sake! This isn't just about my wife anymore!"

Chapter Four of 'Through The Years' - The Crown Prince (quite a bit an angsty chapter with some drama, but also fluff)

Váli frowned at his father, while Áki already had a guess. "What is this all about, dad?" Loki sighed. "The throne. My successor." Váli was definitely more surprised than his brother. "T-The throne? You are telling us who the crown prince is going to be?" "Exactly, my son." Áki just nodded. "We're ready for it. I am ready for it." Loki smiled at his sons. "I know you both are. I just don't know if I am ready. Well, I guess I'll never be - but that doesn't matter." The king swallowed hard. "But before I am going to tell you this, I want you both to know that it wasn't an easy decision for me. I thought long about this. Mostly even at night. I want you to know, that I made this decision as a king - not as a father. I never would. My love for you is equally strong. It always was and it always will be. I love you more than life itself, my sons." Áki smiled, just like his brother. "We love you, too." Váli agreed. "We do - and we know that you'd never favour one of us above the other as a father, but have to as a king."

model!Tom Hiddleston

A Hypnotising Spell - a quite... sexy oneshot/songfic; based on 'It's A Man's, Man's, Man's World' by James Brown

Finally, after a few seconds, the darkness on the screen vanished; turned into an old street in Detroit. Old buildings, old street signs, old traffic lights and old cars. The camera drifted over the grey asphalt, until it met a pair of brown, almost cowboy-like boots. Tom.

Yeps... That's what I got up my sleeve so far - beside the written requests! :)

Random tags: @lady-rose-moon @muddyorbsblr @chennqingg @smolvenger @alexakeyloveloki @jennyggggrrr @asgards-princess-of-mischief @eleniblue @loz-3 @mishkatelwarriorgoddess @fictive-sl0th @iamlokisgloriouspurpose @mochie85 @goblingirlsarah @glitchquake @icytrickster17 @simping-for-marvel @lou12346789 @aagn360 @lokiforever @anukulee @multifandom-worlds @hisredheadedgoddess28 @km-ffluv @lokisgoodgirl @crimson25 @lokischambermaid @buttercupcookies-blog @noideakitten +++ <3

Feel free to let me know what y'all think! :D

[chazchaschad]

Oooo that’s some good angsty brain worms you’re serving with Dio’s Revenge. Let me offer my own in return as tribute

-The reason Jotaro was so uncharacteristically freaked out is simple: Boy was overstimulated after the bite! With the adrenaline probably spending up how fast the vampire venom took his system, Jotaro’s five senses got boosted way too quickly. And after coming out of the worst fight of his life and suddenly being able to hear half of Cairo, everything hurts 5x times worse and the smell of blood is just so sharp… No wonder Jotaro’s brain hit the panic button.

Basically to summarize this point:

DIO, after sipping the Joestar Kool aid: THIS IS THE GREATEST HIGH!

Jotaro, after smoking the vampire weed: This is the worst trip of my life…

-Speaking of the initial bite, it probably stays super tender. Not in an major injury sort of way, but a ‘this is a baby vampire, whack here to scruff like a kitten’ sort of way.

-I can just imagine Avdol and Kakyoin sacrificing their coats to protect Jotaro from the sun until the SW Foundation comes swooping in. Wrap the giant boy like a burrito. Also has the bonus calming effect of smelling like friends!

-God I want Jotaro to be able to spider-climb. Purely for the angsty scene of the biggest teenager in the world trying very hard to hide himself away in a ceiling corner where people cannot touch him and either doctors or Joseph trying their best to get the kid off the ceiling.

I will be keeping an eye on this AU and I can’t wait to see where you go with it!

AAAAAAA THANK YOY FOR LIKING MY AU SO MUCH IT MEANS A LOT TO ME‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️ I LOVE ALL OF THESE IDEAS AND THE ANALYSIS OF THE FEW PIECES OF MEDIA THAT I HAVE CREATED‼️‼️ PLEASE TAKE THESE!!!! AAAAAAAAAAA!!!1!

[kingofbodyrolls]

Friendcation: pregnancy special (m) | myg

*this is a re-upload since I deleted my old account 🫣

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Blood. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Two lines. 

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

Two lines.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

→ Author’s endnote: 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 🫂

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

→ Permanent taglist: @nora12379 @jeonsbabygirlsworld @fancypeacepersona @ktownshizzle @pjmxxjm @ajoonniice @kookiewithluv @mikrokookiex @rapmonjoon94 @parkitrighthere

© @/kingofbodyrolls 2023 // Please don’t copy or repost! You are more than welcome to reblog it, leave a comment or ask me anything about the story 🥰

[coldpintglass]

HNY 🎉🥳🎊🍾Just want to say you’re a great writer and also the Carraville hookup fic where Gary says ||REDACTED|| right in the middle of things 😭 so hot and angsty I looove that one if you have any thoughts on that one or if it will get a follow up ??? Tysm !!!!!

Happy New Year to you too anon!! Thank you for taking the time to pop a little message in my ask box 🥺💖

You are far too kind, I’m so glad you enjoyed “I thought maybe we could kiss tonight”!! My first Caraville and I thought it be fun and hot and it ended up with a nice wallop of angst, YIPEEEE.

I’ll be honest I dont and didn’t plan on a sequel (sorry anon, I actually don’t really have any Caraville stories brewing bar a half formed soulmate au one) BUT I do have some behind the scenes stuff on the fic which I hope makes up for that instead!!!

- dialogue wise, honestly the top two footballers to write about. It’s such a joy to bang out banter and scathing comments and insults and all sorts about these two, I realise I lot of my fics are dialogue heavy but it’s just cause it’s so fun!!!

- speaking of dialogue, the nicest compliment I got on that fic comes from @storyshark2005 (Sara) asking if I was actully British because of the dialogue 😭😭😭 My dads scouse and I love a good bit of bloke™️ chat, good to finally put some of my experiences to use

- Jamie strikes me as a man not shy about his drinking (lmaooooo), great to put all those times I’ve been drunk out my mind to use too. That drunk feeling you get when you’ve lost the feeling of your teeth is immense I can’t lie, you feel fucking invincible and the world is your oyster for a good few hours (before it comes crashing down). Perfect for a Caraville hook up xx

- See Jamie is totally confident and head strong and absolutely in charge in many situations…… but Gary is his foil. Something about the manc gets under his skin and has him barking like a dog, so having Jamie’s confidence wobble throughout the fic was sooooooo deicious fun. Suffer loudmouth bastrd!!!!

- Speaking of bastards, having them both be cheaters on their wives was also, I cannot lie, excellent to put to paper. I truly do not think I could ever write a fic that was No WAGs AU, think the closest was the two Promiscuous Carraville PWPs and even then, it’s more just because they have no plot. It’s so much more realistic, interesting and tbh, hot lmaooo

- I wrote Jamie topping in this fic but trust me, I’ve now been converted to the bottom!Carra TRUTHER group (thank you @k-ky (Kakey) for your service 🫡). He feels things so deeply and intensely if his reaction to loosing/failings/articles on his life are to be believed at first hand. The man needs a good decade with a few therapists tbh (said with love and affection, I have a really soft spot for Jamie).

- Having Jamie cry wasn’t on the cards when I began writing but I think it was good to Chuck in. Drunk Jamie finally getting to bed Gaz? Deffo going to be a bit loopy, and emotional and frankly I don’t blame him, Gary all confident without a hitch.

- I love Gary very much as well but he’s so painfully earnest and serious about stuff that I really can see him keeping his shit togetehr during an intense hookup. There’s a bit of a switch about 1/2 way theough where suddenly Gary’s leading them through the steps, although Carra started….

- finally, oh, the moment Gary calls out David’s name? The second that popped into my head I was like YESSSSSS. I think Beville can be something really sweet in their early days…. But Caraville is end game.

-Gary shouting out David’s name when coming is a big old cliche but god did I enjoy it and tbh it helped propel the fic overall from okay to much better.

Okay thanks everything, anon, if you like KaneSon and SouthKane then I can promise more of that at least. Or tbh. Maybe some ideas. I’m sure I something will hit lmao. Do feel free to hit me up via asks privately if you’d like to chat ideas or drop me a DM on discord (same username!) okay love you bye xx

[lastbluetardis]

🎵 your tenrose AU ideas: 🌟🥰🤩😳🤯❣️ so big brained. i’m getting chills just by imagining each scenario. chills chills everywhere. feed us—and i mean ME—some more. pleaseeee. 🙏🏻

I'm glad you're enjoying this silly little game! I'm having a blast with it!

Song: Exile

AU Idea: God, this is a hard song to give a happy ending, but I'll do my damndest 😂 Most of this story would be quite angsty. It would be a story where James and Rose were lovers but had absolutely piss-poor communications skills, along with their own individual demons and insecurities that royally fucked-up the relationship. Rose didn't think James cared for her or their relationship as much as she did, and she tried over and over again to hint to him that there's an inequality in the relationship, and he needs to do *something* to let her know he's all-in too. But the signs go way over his head because he's a dumb, oblivious boy, who is actually very much in love with Rose, but isn't as showy or flashy with his devotion. His love is deep and quiet, like wading forward in the ocean and it's suddenly deeper than you thought.

The relationship was spiraling for quite awhile, and James somewhat noticed it but figured it was the usual bumps and hurdles of any relationship. Until one day Rose packs her bags and leaves, ending it. She gets into a rebound relationship that she ultimately doesn't care about, but she wants to hurt James as much as he hurt her with his inaction. And James is devastated, now thinking that Rose didn't care at all about their relationship if she was able to move on so quickly.

Years pass, and both of them are trying to move on, but can't help but internet-stalk each other every once in a while (usually after they've had a few drinks) to see what the other is getting up to. They watch each other fall in and out of relationships that don't last longer than a few months. But they never contact each other directly, because they're both certain that the other is over what they'd had.

Until they meet in person when a mutual friend of theirs gets married or something. They mostly avoid each other at the reception, apart from some lingering gazes and awkward closed-mouthed smiles of acknowledgement. As the night carries on, they're both steadily getting drunker, and in their drunken state, they get over-confident and stupid. James approaches Rose, unsteady on his feet, and slurs that it's a great party. She hums in agreement before knocking back a shot.

"Let's dance," he blurts, "for old time's sake. Eh? What's the harm?"

There is a lot of potential harm, but Rose is too drunk to think of them, so she agrees, because as much as she's resented him these last few years, she missed what they used to have and what they could have been. Being in his arms again is more wonderful than she'd remember, and holding her is more wonderful than he'd remembered. They slow dance, which is more of an uncoordinated back-and-forth swaying.

The alcohol is hitting Rose hard, and she rests her head on his chest, just like she used to, and all of the old hurt and anger resurfaces until she blurts, "I really fucking loved you, you know."

James, thinking the alcohol is talking, rolls his eyes and says, "Uh huh. Tell that to Rickey."

"Mickey."

"Whatever. Took you all of forty-eight hours to move on. Sure sounds like true love."

"Just because you didn't give two shits about what we had doesn't mean I wasn't allowed to move on in whatever way worked best for me."

She pushes away from him and storms off, out of the party because even though she's drunk, she knows better than to make a scene and ruin her friend's wedding day. She's almost to the lifts when she hears running footfalls behind her.

"I didn't give two shits about the relationship?! You just left! You gave up and you left!"

"Because you didn't care! For months I was begging you to do something, to show you wanted me, to show you cared about us, and you did nothing!"

"Bullshit! You never said a word until the day you left!"

"I told you about how fun a trip to the shore would be! I asked if it sounded romantic to go dancing somewhere! I showed you photographs of a little house we might be able to afford together! And you... you ignored everything!"

James barely remembers any of that, and doesn't understand why she's bringing up those moments, because that isn't even what they're fighting about. (Why are they even fighting???) When he says as much, Rose throws her hands up and says he's so useless and can't even take a hint.

"Take a hint? Take a hint??? You were feeling like this and all you gave me were hints????"

He's furious and devastated and so, so confused at the possibility that the best relationship he ever had ended because he didn't understand Rose's style of communication.

Rose is suddenly realizing what had happened all those years ago, and she's suddenly mortified to realize everything that happened was a stupid misunderstanding that had been blown out of proportion, and she hates herself, and, just a little, hates him too, but mostly she hates the world and how stupid they all are.

"Forget it," she mumbles, but he catches her wrist and pulls her toward him. She's as close as she was when they were dancing, and she smells the booze on his breath but also the cologne she'd loved so much on him. His eyes are dark and hungry, and he licks his lips, making them shine, and God she's missed him.

Before he can ask, she pulls him down by the lapels and crashes their mouths together in a sloppy heated kiss that feels better than any kiss she's had. She groans when he sucks her lower lip into his mouth the way he always knew she liked, and he moans when she scratches his scalp in the way she knows he loves. Things are getting heavy and heated and they're still in the corridors by the lifts, but neither of them seems to care.

When they come up for air, he rests his forehead to hers and whispers, "You were my one true love. And I never wanted to lose you. And I didn't know what was happening. I'm sorry. Can we try again?"

She hugs him tightly to her and says, "I'm so sorry too. Yes. I want to try again with you. See if we can get it right this time."

They do.

Send me a 🎵 and I’ll shuffle my Taylor Swift playlist

[weekend-whip]

Ninjago Fic Rec Week: Day 2

Prompts: AU+Movieverse/Jay Recs! *vibrates at the thought of Jay content*

AU/Movieverse Recs:

if you could date any of the ninja, which one would you date?: Lloyd experiences the world's worst second-hand embarrassment and the rest of the ninja absolutely are not helping. Not actually shippy, just really funny and Lloyd has a (mostly) light-hearted hard time.

Reference Letters: Kai is tasked with recruiting some fresh talent to the Secret Ninja Force, and what starts as a joke to welcome Lloyd Garmadon into the squad turns into a genuine crusade for his friendship. The Green Ninja, however, is having none of that. (It goes exactly how you expect it to and gah it's beautiful. Kai and Lloyd duo forever!)

Who's the New Guy? He Looks Awfully Green: Movieverse fic in which Lloyd is the last to become a ninja, and the last to learn everyone else's identities. It's full of team-bonding (collectively and one-on-one!), hilarious Wu moments, and Movie!Lloyd being Movie!Lloyd ;w;)/

Jay Recs:

Unfortunately, You're Amazing: Jay faces the dilemma of *maybe* possibly kinda sorta having a small little totally non-consequential thing for Samurai X. But beyond that Jay just gets to be his dorky, smart, snarky, easily impressed self and it's so fun and delightful to read, I go back to it all the time!

Play to Win: An au/ canon divergent whump fic where Jay and Cole are roped into a round of Scrap-N-Tap...and that description does NOT do it justice, but if you like emotional tension, a heaping of personal distress, and a Jay who is unfortunately one step ahead of everyone else, you'll love this. Probably not for the faint of heart, definitely for the angsty daredevils (such as myself)

Jay and the Important Differences Between Spider Pokemon: Pokemon AU that explores Jay's "perplexing" fear of spiders post S6. A fascinating and fun idea for a plot, plus, there's Pokemon. it's all good stuff!

And She Wore Blue, Right?: Jay starts suddenly having reason to look into who his birth mother is...was. Hits just right for people who've always wondered how the show might have tackles this little interesting conundrum.

turtle or the hare: WOW I forgot I read this one aaaaaaaa BUT Jay inadvertently meets his bio mom in a rather...expected place. God their personalities are so similar yet mesh so well hnnnnnnnng (we could have had it aaaaaaall)

Jay and the Deafening Sound: ...this one's mine BUT I've got all three categories covered—extremely about Jay, takes place in the movieverse, and has shades of my legacyverse au to boot <3 Not-so long story short, Jay finds himself up against the main faction of the Shark Army all on his own and finally has a good excuse to pop off with his powers <3

this doesn't really have a title but it IS really very good: A scene or so where Jay and Kai spat over caring for each other too much and it's just such a beautiful depiction of their relationship, rocky tho it may seem ;w;)/

The Fantastic Mr. Walker: All these years later and it's still my favorite Jay-related thing to exist. Really gotta re-read it again so I can be delightedly distressed all over again <3

[raccoonfallsharder]

here are a few sneak previews of what we’ve got going on (this is really more to organize my thoughts and force myself to come up with titles than anything else)

upcoming rocket raccoon fics behind the cut

1. Window Across the Galaxy

aka long&angsty. hoping to start posting on Sunday or Monday.

Slooowww burn + eventual smut. elements of hurt/comfort because rocket is the saddest-angriest boy. Slight AU starting pre-GOTG volume 1 (but will hit most of the same major plot points).

Rocket is captured by a Ravager crew hoping to get rich off the excessively large bounty on his head. Throwing a wrench in everyone’s plans is the Terran girl they hired to do some freelance assessing on a recent haul of goods they’ve seized from a Xandaran luxury liner. Oops.

She looks at the rusted bars, and back to her brute of a tour guide, and sighs heavily. Slowly, she turns back to the cage, swaying toward the bars so she can peer in at eye-level. She’s immediately face-to-face with the creature. His ears are still pressed flat against his head, fur bristling, and he’s gazing back, clearly suspicious and probably - justifiably - feeling more than a little bit mean. She’s suddenly certain that if she got close enough, he’d take out her eyes. There’s no helping herself, is there? One corner of her mouth twists up in exhausted resignation and she nods. “Welp,” she says solemnly to the raccoon, “fuck me, my dude.”

2. Blackmail Material

(codename: pwp???). will probably post part 1 in a week or two.

just pure fucking smut. this was gonna be two parts but I'm leaning toward three now (smut // fuff // smut). probably takes place sometime after endgame but before volume 3? not that it really matters tbh because there is NO FUCKIN PLOT HERE. ur girl's got a praise kink so that'll definitely be featured per usual.

basically: rocket finds your vibrator.

“I’ll tell you what,” he offers up, still grinning that shit-eating grin. “I won’t say a word and I’ll give it back to you. You can even keep whatever batteries are in it.” That sounds too good to be true. You raise a brow and cross your arms in front of your breasts. “If?" “If you let me watch you use it,” he challenges, eyes daring you. “For science.”

3. Domestic Scenes in Space Travel

(codename: ok sweatshirt girl.) i dunno -maybe post the first one by mid-august?

Comics-inspired but not exclusive - just a buncha feel-good fuffy one-shots and equally feel-good smutty one-shots. Series of slice-of-life readerxrocket one-shots following The Very Boring Adventures of Space Pilot & Sweatshirt Girl.

“Just try not to push any buttons or pull any levers till you know what they do.” You snort. “I fully intend to keep my hands completely to myself unless I have your explicit permission to touch.” Rocket leers. “That could be fun.” Your eyes narrow. “Space Pilot, I’m gonna need you to focus on the task at hand so I don’t end up accidentally jettisoning us.”

4. Other Duties As Assigned

(codename: schemers, dreamers, & multicalendar memers) i don't have an intended outcome for this fic yet so while i am VERY much enjoying it, i first need to grapple with whether or not i'm okay posting something that may be unfinished. i usually try to avoid that.

I have no idea whether this will get smutty or not (probably, knowing me?). Begins five months after The Snap.

Natasha Romanoff is an administrative nightmare - a fact that does not go unnoticed by the (interim) captain of the Milano. First she demands that the remaining two Guardians of the Galaxy be reachable via a primitive Terran messaging system, and then she can't be bothered to read the frickin' emails.

Thank fuck she's hired a new assistant.

**THIS MESSAGE IS ENCRYPTED** To: <nromanoff@aee.org> From: &lt;rocket@aee.org> Subj: re: WHAT THE FUCK RED Date: Monday, September 24, 2018 7:34am well that’s probably the nicest message I’ve gotten since I hacked the internet I’m gonna have to kill your boss though

(a super-secret spoiler sidenote - i have a formula and I shamelessly overuse it, so there are no surprises here: girl falls first, raccoons falls harder. every fuckin time friends.)

[macawritesupdates]

Writing Update 8/29/2024

Back to work full-time and off my break so writing updates have become slower! Still going to push onward with big fic updates u_u

Requests are on hold a bit, working at them, but at a rather slow pace as I want to finish up some longer fics and one-shots first <3

STORY UPDATES!

Seven Days to Fall in Love ends tonight! I have it done and working on edits to post it and bring that quick fic to an end. I feel the ending is a touch rushed, but I'm also running out of steam on it, so giving it an ending I feel wraps everything up nicely c: Malevolence of love is 50% done for next chapter. Going to be working on this one to finish it out before the end of September! I have it planned out, just need to get it written. I want to give it some love and bring it to its angsty conclusion 83

Can't Help a Cuddle/Jealous is a Bad Friend BOTH are nearly done and I'm very happy with how they both are coming out! There is some big emotional feels in both that I'm happy with how they played out and just the scenes in general <3 I hope they meet the expectations of all the suggestions given!

Cuddle is a bit harder as I got over twenty suggestions to weave into a coherent narrative, but think I did it justice!

Lessons in Accidental Seduction is nearly done! Finishing up the last scene <3

Spouse Wanted has me possessed and I just write out chapters and edit them in a sitting because I'm giggly over it

Who's a Good Boy is making good progress, as well as Broken in the Ways No One Can See. So should see those maybe next weekish? Depends on how well I write the rest of the week. I've just been on a ROLL for want to write and inspiration! The Yuuji Files has slowed down after writing the silly Toji being forced to look for a job scene....but I think once I get some other long fics cleared, will make it easier to focus on this one <3

Careful What you Joke About is being completely redone for this next arc. I have taken it apart and been redoing the outline for the final two arcs for better flow and to hit the points better. I think it will be a much more solid end when done <3

Mirrored Lives....going to sit down and rehash the ending and figure it out as I think my mental block on it is just dissatisfaction with a few things. MHA ACADAMIA FICS

Jealousy is Not a Good Friend Updates soon and I'm starting to poke at Unsung Heroes again! I SO WANT TO WRITE IT but it is on a backburner for when other things clear up! ONE-SHOTS Pull Me Along if I Can’t Move Forward (MHA: Bakugo/Deku): On a slow boat to getting done haha! But it is still being written! Heatwaves and Curses Don't Mix: A one-shot PWP of Nobara, Yuuji, and Sukuna :b That's it. When You Suddenly Get Another Grandson: The poll idea winner after doing the math.... told from Wasuke's POV of Yuuji suddenly showing up with a moody second twin after eating some mummified finger at school. Desperate Prom Date: Giftfic for an awesome person on twitter who has wanted this story so much.... writing it as thank you for comments and nice art c:

FUTURE FICS TO COME Culturally Insensitive: The sequel to Historically Inaccurate with Yuuji and Sukuna trying to figure things out while meeting with others who have their own possessions going on. Follows along the Culling Game Arc.

Blossoms Born on the Dragon Mountain: The Dragon AU c: Law Meets Disorder: STILL working on it 8I it is a very complicated work to get through. Going to def let some of the big fics finish before it goes out

A Sukuna/Nobara Fic...just feeling the mood to write some more about em :b

[mamamittens]

Well, paid a little more love to my newest plot bunny but my workday was plagued with fluffy Nikia/Thatch/Izou thoughts ngl

It's kinda fucking rude how heavily I gotta rely on fanart to get little serotonin fixes for him. Why am I like this?

Anyway, one of them was the interesting idea that Nikia's whole ass island has lycanthropy and Thatch accidentally gets bitten so they have to stick around another month as she acclimated him to his new reality so he's not rawdogging the experience alone. Cute, slightly angsty fluff about learning to live with being a whole ass wolf every full moon and the enhanced senses that come with it.

Another was basically a homeless interaction (by homeless I mean not attached to a particular AU or idea, not literally homeless). Where basically Nikia had been there a while and is teasing Ace when someone makes a smartass comment.

"Careful, the commander's hot stuff but he can't pick up on flirting very well!" Nikia snorts as Ace blushes hard with indignation.

"O-Oi!"

"I'm not flirting with him--no offense. You're cute but like... A snotty younger cousin kinda cute." She chuckles. "If I'm flirting with anyone it's Thatch."

Fantastic timing, Thatch walks by and freezes, his whole world collapsing in on itself a little. Either because he's a notorious flirt who never succeeds or he never realized she'd definitely flirted with him several times.

"Cousin?!"

"Yeah. You're like, 20 or something, right? I've almost got a decade on you, dude. Your like a baby cousin. I just wanna tease you and give you a noogie."

"the fuck is a noogie?!"

Thatch is still frozen solid, eyes wide as Nikia smiles very sweetly.

Too sweetly.

"Oh, cmere, let me show you!" Nikia encourages, managing to get Ace (still flustered about the cousin thing and realizing she's not that close to his age after all). Blushing madly as she pulls him into a soft hug, head tucked close to her chest. "This... Is a noogie."

Thatch is about to protest cause like, fuck, if anyone should be there it's him damnit! But Nikia's suddenly got Ace in a headlock and is rubbing her knuckle in his hair with a cackling laugh as Ace tries to wiggle away. Horrified about where his face is and the embarrassment of it all.

Nikia absolutely abused her bust size to get the drop on Ace who still can't quite handle women who aren't total hags or rude shits.

She let's him go and Thatch now needs to plan his attack.

As much as I like the idea of him being like, a five-continent-Watson, sleeper hit flirt, the idea he's a sad little mew mew around people he's attracted to and trying to score with is very fucking funny. A total failure Casanova, can't get laid in a bar to save his life.

It's funny.

Izou made the first move and has been watching this unfold for ages, feeling so relieved Thatch finally pieced shit together.

[lyranova]

Okay, last chance... to spoil you, Yuno x Neva for Love Me Like You Do with prompt 8 💝

-----

Hiya anon! *squeal* I'm so glad you asked for my babies and fed into my self-indulgence (I've been slacking off on requests and stuff lately lol 😅), and I'll admit this came out pretty long and is very hurt/comfort and angsty. Because the song you chose the lyrics for are pretty dramatic and sad, which helped fuel this lol 😆. But I hope you enjoy~!

Word Count: 2,674

Warnings: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Mafia AU! Mentions of death, has a happy ending!

-------

This wasn’t supposed to be how things went. They were supposed to find William, their Mafia leader, and come back to headquarters afterward, so they could re-group and plan their next attack. But that didn’t happen.

It didn’t happen that way at all.

Yuno had begged Neva not to come with him, had told her it was too dangerous and that she was too injured after the attack on their headquarters. But Neva was determined, and was going to go with him whether he wanted her there or not. The two argued back and forth before he finally relented and allowed her to come.

Oh, how she wished he had argued with her more.

After the two successfully infiltrated the Zogratis headquarters, they had decided to split up and search for William. Which seemed like a good idea in theory, at least until Neva was blindsided and hit over the head after she ran across one of the Zogratis family’s many secrets.

“ Looks like this little swan has lost her way,” The voice had taunted with an evil smile. “ Where’s her mate? Don’t swans travel in pairs?”

“ He’ll arrive later. Take her down to the basement…”

That was the last thing she heard before she blacked out.

When she awoke, she had found herself chained to barrels of accelerant with multiple different wires attached to them. Neva’s eyes widened as they followed the wires up to a metal box with a timer on it.

She struggled against the bonds that held her down in the chair, she began to shout and scream loudly, so she could let people know that she was down here and that she didn’t have much time left. But being surrounded by thick, concrete walls and with what appeared to be a heavy metal door blocking her only escape…it made her attempts futile.

At least, until she heard banging against the metal door.

“ Neva!” Yuno had shouted as he rattled the chains that kept it locked and began to bang on the door to see if it would budge. Neva felt tears well up in her eyes, he came for her…just like he had promised.

But her eyes turned to look at the clock on the timer, they only had 20 minutes before it detonated, and her eyes returned to the door. He wouldn’t be able to get it open in time, they both knew that.

“ Just go,” Neva said, her voice cracking from the tears and realization that this would be their last conversation. “ I’ll be alright, just leave!”

“ No, I’m not leaving you here!” Yuno shouted as he continued to rattle and bang on the door. It just wouldn’t budge!

“ Please go, get as many people out as you can, we only have 15 minutes left before the whole place blows up. So please just leave me here and save everyone you can!”

She suddenly heard the rattling and banging begin to slow before they stopped completely, and she swore she heard something softly hit the floor, she hoped he finally listened and decided to leave. To save himself, and any of the others that were still in the building.

“ I can’t leave you here,” She heard Yuno speak softly and she heard a soft thud against the door, as though he were sitting with his back against it. “ I won’t leave you here. If you plan on dying here, then I’m going to die here too. If you can’t leave, then I won’t leave. I’m with you for better or worse, Neva. If you live, then I’ll live. If you die…then I’ll die too.”

Neva began sobbing at this point and began to fight even harder against her restraints as she cried in agony. Her heart was angry, in pain, and was sad. Why couldn’t he be selfish just this once? Why wouldn’t he listen to her now, just like he always did? Why was this the hill he was planning to die on?!

“ Please, Please…” She begged as she continued to try to get out of this awful situation, she looked back at the timer, they only had 10 minutes left…

“ Didn’t you hear me? I said no. I refuse to live in a world without you in it, so I’m just going to sit here and talk to you until that timer goes off. And maybe, in our next life, we’ll meet again. Fall in love again. And be able to live happily ever after.” Yuno told her softly, his voice going hoarse before breaking a bit towards the end.

“ Just do me this one favor, Neva, please just let me stay here with you.” Yuno muttered softly and Neva cried before nodding her head, even though he couldn’t see it.

“ This is my last favor to you, Yuno.” She said softly, and tried to sound teasing, she heard him snort quietly on the other side of the door.

Suddenly, the couple heard footsteps running towards them and shouts.'

“ We found you! We brought the tools!” Klaus Lunettes shouted, Neva frowned as she heard shuffling and moving around on the other side of the door. She began to hear a whirring and cutting sound for a few minutes before she heard a ‘clang’ and chains fall to the floor. She watched the door open and saw Yuno, Klaus, and Mimosa standing on the other side.

Yuno smiled at her before he rushed over, held her face in his hands, and gave her a sweet kiss of relief. Which she reciprocated. He reached around behind her and began to undo the restraints before helping her up.

“ Can you walk?” He asked as he began to look her over for injuries, Neva nodded.

“ I can walk, albeit a little slower than normal.” Neva tried to joke, causing him to chuckle.

“ We don’t have much time, we need to go, now!” Mimosa shouted as she and Klaus grabbed Neva’s arms and threw them over their shoulders before they began to carry her out, with Yuno following close behind them.

When suddenly a loud gunshot rang out, causing Klaus, Neva, and Mimosa to pause and turn around. When they did, their eyes widened and a small ‘drip, drip, drip’ echoed throughout the basement. Yuno just stood there, his amber eyes wide in shock and surprise, and a huge blood stain suddenly began to appear on his chest and bleed through his white dress shirt.

“ Yuno…” Neva stammered, her voice so quiet that it barely registered as a whisper. She moved her arms and began to slowly make her way towards him when she stopped as a chuckle rang out, and Zenon Zogratis appeared behind Yuno.

“ Did you really think I was going to let you leave here?” He asked coldly and with a mad look in his eye. “ After all that you’ve done?!”

Yuno suddenly seemed to regain his sense of awareness as Zenon shouted, he suddenly took two steps back into the room where Zenon and the bomb were, and his hand reached out towards the metal door. He looked at Neva with a warm, but sad and regrettable smile.

“ And consider this my last favor to you…Neva.” He said as he began to close the door.

“ No, Yuno wait!” Neva shouted as she tried to run towards the door, the bomb on the other side only had a few seconds left, he wouldn’t make it out in time!

She screamed as she felt Mimosa and Klaus grab her arms to hold her back, she began to scream, yell, and fight against them. She couldn’t let him die like this, she couldn’t let him die alone, this wasn’t fair!

Then, the bomb went off. And Neva, along with Klaus and Mimosa, fell unconscious.

After a few days, Neva woke up, her memory of that day a little fuzzy. Until she saw the looks on everyone's faces, especially on Williams face. She began to deny it, began to yell at them all that they were playing a sick and twisted joke, and it wasn’t funny. But when she saw the looks in their eyes, and the sad shakes of their heads, she knew what they said was true:

Yuno was dead.

The moment that realization sunk in, they watched the light in her eyes instantly disappear, and watched her spiral into the darkness of grief and agony. They tried to talk to her, but she refused to speak to them, she refused to eat, she was basically a dead woman walking.

For the next few months they would watch her sit in her and Yuno’s room, or beside a window, or outside in the field where she and Yuno would lay about, and she would just look…lost. As though she were daydreaming. But William explained that wasn’t what she was doing, instead she was living inside her memories. Sometimes she would suddenly burst into tears and just scream and cry as though she were being tortured, she was breaking down, she was falling apart, and there was nothing that could fix her.

—---

6 months later

Neva quietly walked down the small street that was situated beside the river in the Capital. She never recovered after that day, the day the darkness swallowed her whole and refused to release her. In a way she didn’t mind it, she had been in this darkness before, and honestly felt quite comfortable here.

But there were times when the darkness became suffocating, and she would find herself gasping for air, begging to be released. And it would refuse, every single time.

She had left her Mafia family, even though they protested and said that she shouldn’t be alone, but she refused. Saying that she needed some time alone, and that right now their headquarters…had too many painful memories for her. So she had to leave, for her sake, and for theirs.

They had already seen so much death, sadness, and pain the last few years. They didn’t need to see anymore when they looked at her.

Her heeled boots clicked against the ground at a steady pace as she looked around. The world used to be so full of color and warmth when he was with her, but now that he was gone it was cold and grey. She laughed, who knew one person could change the world for you so much?

She continued walking until she found an area of the river where no one was at. She walked over to the railing and stared at her reflection. She hardly even recognized herself anymore. Her face was thin, her once long and shiny hair was now short and dull, and her eyes…her eyes looked completely lifeless.

The whispers of her Mafia family were right, she looked like a ghost, or more accurately a zombie.

The memory of Yuno’s words suddenly popped into her mind, they had promised to be there for each other for better or worse, and that they would live together and die together. A sad smile appeared on her face, in her next life, she hoped and prayed to any deity that was listening that she be allowed to meet him again. To fall in love with him again, and to grow old with him.

Before Neva could step up onto the railing, she felt someone's arms wrap around her waist and pull her away. She began to struggled, but they only tightened their grip.

“ Neva, don’t do it, please!”

She immediately stopped struggling and froze. That voice…that voice belonged to Yuno. But there was no way he could be alive, he died, and she saw it!

“ You’re not real,” She muttered softly as she felt tears well up in her eyes, sometimes she would get so lost in the memories of her and Yuno that they would become eerily vivid like this. She would swear she had seen him in a coffee shop, a library, sitting in their favorite field at Headquarters, or just walking down the street. But every time it turned out to be her imagination, and every time it always hurt.

“ I am real! Look, if I wasn’t real, would I be able to hold you like this?” He asked urgently as he put a little more pressure around her middle, but she still shook her head.

“ You’re not real, you died, that day in the basement of the Zogratis’s headquarters. You died…” She trailed off, Yuno sighed and turned her around in his arms. He kept one arm firmly around her waist and grabbed her hand with the other.

“ I’m not dead Neva, see? I’m right here, alive! So please…don’t do this.” He pleaded as he placed her hand on his face and looked at her with tears in his amber eyes.

Neva frowned, he felt…warm. And his skin was as smooth as it always was. She had had vivid memories, but never one this vivid. She felt tears fall onto her cheeks as her other hand shakily moved towards his chest, and she rested it on his heart.

‘Thump thump, thump thump.’.

 Neva’s eyes widened���his heart was beating! Right there, underneath her palm, he was here…he was alive.

“ We live together, we die together, remember? So if you jump off that bridge, I’m just gonna have to jump off it too.”

“ Yuno…” She suddenly began to sob as the tears flowed freely. “ Yuno!”

The man wrapped her in his arms, he hugged her tightly against his chest. He felt her shoulders shake with each sob, and his heart broke, he hadn’t meant to hurt her so much.

“ I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, Neva.”

“ Where were you? Why didn’t you come back to headquarters? How are you still alive?” She cried into his chest, her tears going from sadness, to shock and disbelief, and now to happy and relieved.

“ Apparently, when you were shouting for help, Asta and some of his Mafia members were underground and heard you. So they began cutting a hole into the floor, and just as the bomb went off, the floor where they had cut collapsed and I fell in. Which ended up protecting me.” Yuno said softly as he began to move pieces of her hair out of her face. “ As for my gunshot, they have a pretty good doctor in the Black Bulls, they got me to their headquarters quickly and were able to patch me up.

“ This whole time, you were with the Black Bulls?’’ Neva asked softly as her sobs turned into sniffles, and Yuno nodded.

“ I was, we all thought it would be safer in case any of the Zogratis family was still alive. But now that we’ve confirmed they aren’t I can go back to the Golden Dawn.” Yuno said softly, as his hand rubbed her back gently.

“ But,” He continued. “ There were times when I would sneak out to see you, once at a coffee shop, once in our field, and even walking down the street. Actually, you almost caught me that time on the street, which is why I disappeared for a while.” He admitted with a nervous chuckle, and she looked up at him in surprise.

“ All those times when I thought I was imagining things…it was really you? You were really there?” She asked, and he nodded in confirmation. She suddenly leaned her forehead against his chest.

“ You’re a freaking jerk.” Yuno chuckled as he kissed the top of her head and apologized.

The two stood like that for a while, their silence speaking all the words that they couldn’t say. And they just held each other, making up for the last 6 months when they were unable to.

“ Now, let’s go home, everyone’s waiting.” Yuno said softly as he pulled away from her a bit, and she nodded in agreement.

“ One thing first though,” Yuno looked at her in confusion before she jumped up, wrapped her arms around his neck, and pulled him down into a sweet, warm kiss.

His amber eyes widened in surprise, but soon he closed them and wrapped his arms around her waist. How he missed the warmth of her kisses. How he missed the way they could tell him all of her feelings without ever letting a word slip pastime, and how he missed the way she poured all of her love for him into her kisses. Just like he would do when he would kiss her.

The couple pulled away, rested their foreheads against each other, and smiled lovingly at each other.

A beautiful bright light finally appeared, and was able to pull Neva out of the darkness, and she no longer had to live inside her memories.

------

Thank you all so much for reading and I hope you all have a good day~!

[slumbers-nightlight]

I decided to post something for my Bloody Bandaids AU! If you don’t know what that is then basically it’s Little is traumatized by a Care Facility for Little’s, they’re rescued and it’s meant to be the comfort of recovery

I do have a more in depth explanation on my blog somewhere if you’re interested, but please keep in mind that Bloody Bandaids is very angsty.

It is meant to comforting though if the idea of being rescued from a bad situation, and protected is nice to you. But even if it is, please keep the trigger warnings in mind regardless.

Thank you!

🖤-Trigger Warnings!-🖤

ANGST, Past Abuse, a Little Putting Themselves in a Dangerous Situation, a Little Fighting Regression, Panic Attacks, Out of Characterness

🖤-Please Be Advised!-🖤

In all honesty, Peter really wished that he wasn’t here right now. He would much rather be elsewhere than right here.

Sitting on a couch that shouldn’t be as comfortable as it is A warm blanket that Steve wrapped around him The television playing the first Star Wars movie in excellent quality Bruce offering him warm milk in what used to be his favorite cup

It wasn’t that he disliked what was going on, but he was too old for this sort of thing. The Care Center had ensured that he knew he was too big for this sort of thing. He didn’t know why the Avengers were still so insistent on him being here.

Or why they were so insistent that he was tortured… It was unpleasant, sure but he wouldn’t call it torture… Besides his broken arm was already healing quite well, and the diaper rash was going away too. He was fine.

He’s pulled out of his thoughts when Bruce shakes the cup a little making the liquid slosh about. His face expectant and hopeful like a “Please take it”.

“No, thank you…” “You sure, Petey? It’s your favorite cup… Look, it’s shaped like Darth Vader’s head…” “Don’t you think I’m a bit too old for that?”

It doesn’t go unnoticed how Bruce’s face immediately falls in disappoint at hearing this; he looks like he wants to try to push Peter to take it but he hesitates.

That is until another hand takes the cup, and puts the familiar plastic in Peter’s hands. Tony plopping himself down on the couch immediately afterwards.

“No one’s too old for fun, kid… Besides are you really gonna hurt Jolly Green’s feelings after he made this for you?” “Tony, it’s fine if he doesn’t-“ “He’s already holding it, too late to take it… Come on, kid… Just give it a sip, and if you don’t like it then you can give it back…”

Bruce looks visibly uncomfortable at this as he looks at Peter, Peter staring down at the warm milk in the black plastic novelty cup. The man going to take it from his hands until Tony gently puts his hand under the cup, and lifts it a little towards Peter’s face.

Peter hesitates heavily before taking a sip of it, the second that it hits his tongue. Memories of warmth and safety flood his mind.

Memories of a time before the Care Center. The way that he would let Tony cradle him in a warm blanket until he fell fast asleep. Using the arc reactor as a nightlight. How Stephen would sit, and let Peter pretend that he was a doctor. Letting Peter poke and prod at him with plastic tools. The sleepovers at the Barton Farm where Peter would play with Clint’s kids. Running around together until he was called in for a nap.

These memories make him almost long for the days before the Care Center. A time that Peter has only been able to think negatively about recently.

Before he even realizes what he’s doing, he finds himself drinking more of it. A look of relief crosses over Bruce’s face at the sight.

When Peter finally pulls away from the cup, a milk mustache coats his upper lip. Tony takes part of the blanket, and wipes it away for him.

“Wow, you chugged the entire thing… No hiccups either… Color me impressed…”

Almost as if on cue, Peter suddenly twitches as a soft sound comes from him. The telltale sign of getting the hiccups. Peter reflexively stops breathing to get rid of them, only for Tony to rub his back.

“Hey, hey… None of that… If you want to get rid of your hiccups so bad, then we’ll get Jolly Green to give you a scare…” “Or we could just get him some cold water, and not send the other guy rampaging through the tower” “I mean if you want to do it the boring way…”

Bruce just sighs and shakes his head at what Tony says, he slips the cup from Peter’s hand giving a “I’ll be right back” before walking off.

Tony sits with Peter on the couch, putting his arm around the younger boy and slowly pulling him into his side. Waiting to see if Peter rejects the motion or tries to pull away before he pulls him into his lap. Wrapping both of his arms around him.

Peter rests his head on Tony’s shoulder, the sound of the movie fading away in the background as he starts to feel smaller. The older man’s hand coming up, and petting his head.

“It’s gonna be okay, Peter… You’re safe here… You always will be…”

Peter starts to space out as Tony holds him, he hasn’t let any of the Avengers do this in a long time. He’s denied everything soft that they’ve done before. If the warm blanket around his shoulders hadn’t been done by Steve in an ambush, he would have rejected it as well.

His mind starts to drift, his brain being filled with even more memories of the past. Time’s that he thinks don’t sound so bad now.

Times when all that he had to worry about was if there really were monsters under the bed, or if it was gonna rain tomorrow and he wouldn’t be able to go to the park.

He starts to miss those days. Miss sleeping all swaddled up in someone’s arms, miss sitting down and playing with his toys for hours on end. Where are his toys actually? He remembers trying to pack them away, but not why he did… Would they be upset with him?

He hears the sounds of sparks, he looks and sees the familiar light of one of Stephen’s portals. A small one where Tony puts his hand under it, and a small object falls into his palm.

Peter recognizes this, it’s a pacifier. He feels a pressure inside of his chest, it feels almost like anxiety. But why is that? It’s just his pacifier.

The pressure grows more and more as Tony moves it to put it in his mouth. Peter watches the approaching silicone, he doesn’t understand why this is making him so nervous.

Until it finally hits him… In the form of a voice echoing in the back of his head…

“You are far too old for these things, Mr. Parker… It is time for you to grow up, and stop living in the past…”

Memories of the Care Center fill his mind as he’s reminded of everything that he was taught. To not regress, to grow up. To only rely on himself. To leave the past behind permanently.

The anxiety grows inside of his chest upon remembering. He pulls his head back and away when he feels the silicone touch his lips. Tony pulls the pacifier away, sensing Peter’s distress

He tosses the pacifier aside as he moves to just cradle him instead, he feels like he pushed a bit too far. He internally curses especially when Peter pulls away from him

“Shhh… Shh… It’s okay, it’s okay… You’re alright…”

Loosening his grip on Peter, it allows the younger boy to fully pull away from Tony. He scrambles to another part of the couch. Tony looks at him with concern in his eyes. He wants to comfort him, but he honestly doesn’t know what to do at the moment.

He knows it’s probably not a good idea to get close right now though. It’s not hard to see that the poor boy is spiraling at the moment.

“Sir, Mrs. Potts is requesting your immediate assistance with something regarding the Hall of Armor…”

“Tell her that I’m busy with something important, Friday…”

“I’m afraid that I cannot… Mrs. Potts says that it’s an emergency, and your presence is required…”

Tony curses under his breath at this, he knows that he shouldn’t leave Peter alone right now but it might be an actual emergency. So despite his better judgement, he stands up from the couch.

Justifying it to himself that Bruce is likely going to be back soon anyways. He rushes out of the room, leaving Peter alone.

As soon as Peter is alone, he immediately starts shaking. His mind being filled with echoes of the voices from his time at the Care Center.

All different lectures that he’d heard while they taught him to never regress, while they taught him to grow up. His arm starts to ache inside of its cast.

The pressure builds more and more inside of his chest as he fights off the need to regress, but it refuses to leave. It looms in the back of his head as it tries to make him give into comfort and safety.

He tries everything that the Care Center taught him to do, but nothing works and his heart pounds faster. He can barely register the world around him. Punishment is going to come to him, the Care Center Workers will do what they have to. Make sure he knows to not regress.

Peter needs to stop it… But how…?

His answer comes when the sound of rumbling breaks through his panic, Peter raises his head. It’s storming outside of the tower, rain hitting the windows harshly.

Normally Peter was afraid of storms that seemed like they’d only get worse, he can feel the need to regress slightly shrink back. It was perfect…

Peter stands up from the couch, and starts to head over towards the balcony door. He can barely make out the sound of Bruce caught up in conversation with Natasha.

Trying to open the balcony door, the lock immediately clicks. The young boy turns the knob a few times in desperation, but it won’t open.

”I’m sorry, Peter but it is too dangerous for you to be on the balcony at this moment…”

“Please, Friday… Let me out for just a second… I… I need some fresh air…”

“You appear to be panicking… Would you like me to call Mr. Stark for you?”

“N-No! Please don’t do that! Friday, I'm gonna be fine! I just need some air… It won’t take longer than a second, I swear…”

Friday doesn’t respond as the door remains locked tight, Peter can feel himself starting to hyperventilate. Part of him considers breaking the door down.

No air is coming into his lungs, he can feel the need to regress coming back on. His heart races as he rests his forehead against the glass of the door.

“Pl-Please, Friday… Just a second…”

He gives a pathetic sounding whimper, he thinks that he’s going to drop hard in a few moments. His mind being filled with thoughts of being young, and the comfort that would come.

His eyes screw shut tightly only for the sound of the lock clicking again, his eyes open up wide as he turns the doorknob. It actually turns.

“Just a moment, Peter… I will be timing it…”

“Ri-Right!! Thank you so much!!”

Peter doesn’t hesitate any longer as he practically throws the door open, he races out onto the balcony. The rain immediately soaking him.

The sky lighting up with lightning as thunder roars, Peter takes a long deep breath. The outside air filling his lungs. He can feel the need to regress leaving him as he forces himself into a situation that would have terrified him otherwise.

The wind pulls the blanket from his shoulders as it flies off the balcony, he only feels slightly bad.

Peter starts to feel okay again, his arm stops aching and he turns his face towards the sky. Letting the rain hit him directly. It feels oddly good… But why is his heart still racing?

He feels the need to regress starting to leave him so why isn’t he able to calm down? This isn’t that scary… It’s just a storm, the rain feels good on his skin…

The thunder rumbles once again, but louder this time. He takes a few steps further onto the balcony, thinking that’ll fix it. He can’t pick up the sound of Friday telling him to come back inside as he walks a bit further.

He’s okay, he’s big now and he needs to stay this way. Big kids aren’t afraid of storms, big kids aren’t afraid of anything.

Static electricity starts to gather where he’s standing, his hair begins to stand up by itself. He isn’t afraid of anything. He’ll be big, no matter how strong the urge to regress gets.

Suddenly, a powerful force grips his wrist and he finds himself being yanked harshly. He’s ripped back inside just as lightning strikes exactly where he had been standing a few moments before.

Arms wrap tightly around him, the person holding him shaking quite a bit. It almost feels like they’re afraid to let him go. Peter looks up into the face of a very terrified looking Thor, the god mumbling in a language that Peter can’t understand.

He looks towards the balcony, and the realization of what just happened finally sinks in. If Thor had been just a second too late, Peter would have been struck by lightning. He’d be dead.

Before he can think more, Thor grips him by his shoulders and pulls back so he can look him in the eye. His own eyes filled with worry.

“Peter, what in the nine realms were you thinking?! You could have been killed!! Tell me what possessed you to do something so reckless!!”

Peter tries to think of what to say, but “I needed some air”? Thor wouldn’t accept that as an answer. Not when Peter put himself in so much danger. Thor would know there’s another reason.

He thinks about just coming clean, and telling Thor that it was because he couldn’t let himself regress. But he hears the voices from the Care Center echoing in his head again.

Telling him to not tell anyone about the Care Center, to not let anyone know what they did to him. That it was all for the best. But now he’s really starting to wonder, was it really for the best?

Peter’s gaze drifts to his broken arm, he starts to remember everything that the “Care” Center did to him… Maybe everyone was right, maybe it really was torture…

“Tell me, Peter…” “…I… I needed to be big…”

Thor hears this, and he lets out a sigh. He knows the cause of why Peter is doing this now, he knew he had a bad feeling about that place.

He should have said something, insisted that they find someone else to watch Peter while they were away. Now that he looks back, he knew the others probably had the same feelings.

Maybe if he had spoken up then that would have caused the others to agree… But he didn’t, and look what happened…

“They’re still plaguing your mind, aren’t they? No matter how many times that we tell you that it’s okay… No matter how many times that we try to help you…”

What feels like Thor’s arms loosening around him sends a surge of panic through his chest, suddenly he wants nothing more than to just be held close. To never ever be let go. To feel safe, and comforted.

Part of him feels like a hypocrite as just a few moments ago, he was pushing away from Tony like he had suddenly burst into flames. And here he is now, feeling like the world will end if he’s let go.

He clings onto him, fingers digging into the older man.

“Pl-Please don’t! Don’t leave me, please!”

Thor’s eyes go wide in surprise as that’s the first time that Peter has done this in a long time. Regardless he doesn’t hesitate as he quickly wraps his arms back around him.

“I’m not going to leave you, none of us will… We’ll never leave you ever again… I swear this to you…“

Peter buries his face into Thor’s shoulder as his shoulders start to shake, and his eyes sting with tears. Before he even knows it, he’s letting out a small sob.

Bruce finally re-enters the room, he drops the cup in surprise quickly moving to close the door to the balcony. Once it’s shut and locked, he takes a look at the situation and his face immediately falls. He has a feeling about what happened.

Thor’s hand rubs Peter’s back, like he’s comforting a scared little kid. Which Peter is finally starting to accept that’s what he is. At least right now, and there shouldn’t be anything wrong with that.

Well not shouldn’t… There absolutely isn’t anything wrong with that, but Peter will have a long time before he realizes that…

[noblest-roman-of-them-all]

Since the nightmare that started this AU did, in one of the loops, have Logan's ex come back, I do feel like I should add that into the storyline at some point.

I did at first consider writing her as a nurse on staff while he was in the hospital, tying in that she was the student teacher in his high school science class, and qlso using this to fill Remus in on finding out that Logan's ex was nearly ten years older than him and that they met when he was fifteen. But I do think it makes more sense for Remus to be in the know prior to the ex showing up. But I'm not against her being at the hospital.

I've also thought about her just turning up when Virgil hits eighteen so she doesn't have to worry about custody drama. This one could be more angsty, but I honestly can't envision Logan not explaining that he was groomed and abused, if only to teach Virgil what to look out for in relationships.

I've also thought about Logan being contacted to settle her estate because she died very suddenly and he's the only one they can get a hold of, and while I do think there is some potential there, it also feels slightly like a cop out in the "past is suddenly coming back to haunt me" trope idea.

The other one I'm really leaning toward (but don't want to research for) is Logan being contacted to testify against her in court after she's arrested and having charges brought against her by the parents of another high schooler she was preying on. I like this one because I think it would be interesting to explore Logan going into all of this for the kid's sake, he's going to step in and protect this teenage boy the way he wished someone had protected him. He goes in thinking he's not afraid of her in the way everyone keeps expecting, he's not stressed at the idea of being in the same room as his abuser, because she was never violent with him. In his mind, it was statutory rape, with a lot of mental and emotional abuse and manipulation, and it's not till he sees her again, not till her lawyer is grilling him about whether or not he ever actually objected to her advances, whether or not he told her no that he starts feeling afraid.