#AND IT'LL STILL FIT EVEN IF WE SWITCH IT UP

[kr0ffie]

GUYS GUYS LISTEN:

Photographer!Tommy and Journalist!Purpled.

[genericpuff]

LORE | REKINDLED EPISODE 32 - ALEX (PT 1)

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Bit of a shorter episode this week, I mentioned a while back when I switched to my iPad that that might happen as working on my iPad slows my usual work process a bit more. That said, it means the next part is already nearly finished so we can have even more time to work on Ep 33 ! I'm glad I at least have my iPad while my main tablet is still throwing its hissy fits >:0 Thank you so much for reading! <3

Also, LORE | REKINDLED is also on Dillyhub now! This is a platform I'm using just for mirroring, but it comes with higher quality versions of the pages with better support for vertical scrolling, so go check it out if you want to read Rekindled in its originally intended format! (also comes with the added benefit of supporting other platforms <3) Episodes are still being added regularly so it'll catch up with the Tumblr uploads soon <3

Also, this episode features another old LO panel recreation, think you can spot it? ;)

[sugar-omi]

I don’t think I read cove putting on a condom in that virginity loss post. Do I sense Cove having to awkwardly buy MC plan b? 😏😏🤭

[part 1]

listen. it's up for interpretation✋️😌🤚 maybe the parents left some rubbers in the house bc who KNOWS what'll happen. but that's exactly what i was thinking too🤭

you're both too eager to even think rationally, logically.

by the time he's ruined you with his tongue and stretched you open with his fingers, and the thought finally occurs to you two, you can't just let him go.

you promise him it'll be okay, that it's just one time and today should be safe. that you can just get a plan B and it'll be alright

his brain is too fogged to even disagree. because right now, his dick throbbing at the thought of losing his virginity raw. especially with you. to even think about all the lectures his parents gave, or even think about the consequences and how complicated his feelings are as a big fay teenage accident

tries to put up a bit of resistance, asks if you're sure. if you're really sure.

please don't try to reason with him by saying "well, if we do it raw the first time, i won't get curious when doing it with anyone else..."

because now he has to agree.

because fuck. what if the temptation is just as strong now, as down the line. what if he's too dazed to think straight. maybe, just maybe, feeling how hot and wet your pussy is around his cock will give him a bit of reason if he ever has sex with someone else..

finally he'd just growl lowly, curses and says "okay, fuck.. okay..." because now you've won him over. he can't go back now

thinks he's ruined just when the tip of his cock alone pushes past your entrance, that this is it. he's totally fucking pussy drunk for the rest of his life. there's no way he'll ever be able to recover for the feeling of your tight cunt squeezing around him, your legs and arms tangled around him and your thighs trembling and squeezing around his hips

all he'll be able to think of for the rest of his life will be how your eyes rollback, how they they flutter, and how his name sounds on your lips, all breathy and soft and whiny. it's a fucking symphony and he needs you to keep singing it

pants and inhales like he's running a fucking marathon with every cm and every inch of cock he sinks into you.

he's not small, and he hopes he stretched you enough, and of your hymn is still intact before now, he really hopes this doesn't hurt you too much.

it's so suffocating and hot. and even with tears welling up in your eyes, a tear or two running down your cheeks, he can't help but feel so fucking happy that you're under him like this, clinging onto him. whining and moaning his name. crying about his dick, how he's too fucking thick to fit inside you, how he's nudging your cervix once he's fully inside...

tries to ignore it but he's so happy you're doing this with him.

what if some other asshole had you under him like this. and then ran off and bragged, embarrassing you. or shamed you when you fought for how you cried and clung onto them like a needy whore

really tries to ignore the primalness rising in his chest. but fuck he has to admit his confidence is getting bigger by the second. has been ever since you said he's the only guy you trust to take your virginity and not regret it. that if you had a choice, you'd give it to him.

he's never cared about the whole virginity thing, and purity and all that... just wanted it to be with someone he trusted, and he's glad you feel the same

but now that you're here.. fuck it's flipped a switch inside him

right now, he doesn't know if he wants to give you up. your bodies are connected now.. you're taking him to the hilt, crying his name, and begging him for more.

just minutes ago you begged him to make you cum on his face.

he doesn't want anyone else to see that.

but that's so selfish, and disgusting. you're not even dating. this is just.. both of you taking precautions to not regret your first sexual experience

but fuck.. fuck if he doesn't feel like your souls are connected at this point. if he doesn't feel like you own a piece of him now..

which in fact. you do. and he does too.

he's the first to see you so vulnerable, so intimately.

no one else has seen you like this. you haven't called anyone else's name in that sultry voice and he's the first person besides yourself to make you cum.

he owns those firsts. and you own the same from him.

it's not like it's the first thing you've ever done together, really it shouldn't be this fucking life changing.

but not all best friends tell each other they want the other to pop their cherry, and not all best friends beg the other to please put it in, that that's enough and you're ready for it.

not all best friends moan out each others name, leav dark hickeys on each other, and definitely don't hold hands and kiss like lovers as they gently fuck into the other friend..

God he hopes he's your only best friend. at least the only best friend who can do this to you.

you're hardly accustomed to the intrusion before he picks up the pace. he had just kissed the tears off your cheeks and told you it's okay, he has you, you're doing so good..

and now he's slamming his hips down, his body weight pushing you into the mattress, and his face is buried in your neck, muttering apologies in your ear as if that'll make up for his cock bullying your sensitive, deflowered insides

you're so sensitive from your previous orgasms, and this is a whole new sensation. it's too much, he's so mean, but if he really was that mean, why is he holding your hand and kissing you, squeezing his hand between your body to rub your clit...

cove's always so sweet, so you can forgive him for being a bit of a bully tonight. even if your cervix and pussy is so tender afterwards, you can get over it because fuck it's too good to be mad at him

he's hitting all those spots you can't reach with your fingers, his cock dragging along every spot and his fat cock top nudging that delicious spot between your walls

he thinks he's gone to heaven when you lock your legs around him, begging him to keep hitting that spot. of course, he obliges, adjusting his knees and trying to keep a god rhythm as he fucks into that spot that has you crying so loudly, your nails dragging down his back...

you feel so fucking good.. and he groans when he looks between your bodies and see the creamy ring around his cock, strings of slick and cum connecting your pussy to his abdomen and the mess is all over both of your guys thighs.

it's sloppy. and dirty. dirtier than those sloppy French kisses you engaged in earlier, and cove didn't think he could get any harder until right now

between the mess and the way your pussy clings to his cock, the obscene shlicking noises, the way your cunt accepts him and gushes around him like you're made for him, and he's made for you..

he can't hold it anymore. especially when you cry as you cum around his cock, your legs locking behind his back ad your ego him to keep going.

cages you in his arms as he uses your pussy to bring him over the edge, running tight circles around your clit.

you're not letting up, even when he says he's gonna cum, that he should cum outside.. fuck it probably doesn't matter if he pulls out at this point.

all the pre cum his fat, pretty cock drooled inside your pussy, and if you made him cum before you went all the way, his cock was already sticky and wet with his semen, it's far too late to be cautious now.

his eyes roll back and flutter shut when he cums, groaning and he can't help but bite into your shoulder, not even thinking twice about it whole he dumps his fat, thick load inside your poor cunt..

he's totally painting your walls white, and it's spilling out around his cock.. you didn't think he could cum so much, didn't think it'd be possible..

it'll definitely be impossible to clean out later. you can feel how thick and clingy his cum is, you're going to be fingering and scooping out cum fron your sensitive guts for so long...

you have to ignore that dark part of you that says his cum is perfect for getting you pregnant. that it'd fill your womb up so nicely, that if it didn't take the first time it'd be a fucking miracle.

you choking around the primal urges filling up your chest, your brain.. you have to get him off you before you beg him to fuck you again. before a second round turns to three, than four...

you've been so irresponsible. but at least you can curse yourself about that instead of having your first times with assholes, right?

and at least cove will buy the plan B himself, or at least pass you the money for it. he's still a better gentleman than any other guy out there, so you definitely can't be mad about your first time...

[our-flag-means-love]

i haven't seen anyone talk about this since the new season so i guess it'll have to be me.

in the wake of s1 there was meta going around about the symbolism of ed's gloves.

for most of s1, he has the fingerless ones. this is when he's closed off, bottled up. even while getting to know stede, he's not allowing himself to be fully vulnerable.

the closest we see him get in this span of episodes are when he switches outfits with stede, and the fancy french party. at both of these times, he doesn't wear his gloves, and, surely enough, in one case he's exploring a side of himself he'd previously never let see the light of day, and in the other he has a very vulnerable moment with stede after the party.

but during these instances, he also doesn't have his leathers. the gloves and the rest of his getup seem to operate independently. the gloves are his repression, his vulnerability or lack thereof, while his leathers represent blackbeard, whom ed repeatedly tries to distance himself from.

(continued under the cut bc this got kind of long)

and when he finally does away with the gloves again in s1e9, it's when he's exploring a new, gentler side of himself that never had room to breathe before. he's shed the blackbeard leathers entirely, attempting to leave that part of himself behind.

for the majority of s1e10, he also doesn't have his leathers or gloves, as he's wearing the breakup robe, still exploring his more sensitive side, and being open with the crew.

the contrast, as well as how the gloves fit into this whole thing, is never more evident than at the very end of s1. when he descends back into blackbeard, using it as a shield, letting it consume him entirely, this is the only time in the show that we see him with the full fingered gloves. he's repressing himself harder than ever, and trying to force his sensitive side as far down as he can.

in the first three episodes of s2, right up until his reunion with stede, he's back to the fingerless gloves, still in blackbeard garb, and still repressing his deepest needs and desires. the only exception in this stretch of time is the gravy basket, where he's extremely open and vulnerable about his biggest worries.

for two of the later episodes of s2, he also doesn't have his leathers, and those are the two episodes in which he's again really trying to distance himself from blackbeard, whether it be by shirking blame for his actions or by reinventing himself entirely.

so, given all of that, i just have to ask: how are we feeling about him spending much of s2—and especially finishing out the season—still in his leathers but without the gloves?

these are the times when he's being vulnerable and open without trying to escape from blackbeard. by the end of the season, he's accepted it as part of who he is. not something to base himself on entirely, nor to fear or run from, just a real part of him that's there for better or for worse.

[sguidwards-bestfriend]

Dp x dc thoughts and stuff

New Dimension, Who's This?

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6

Okay okay wait what if ghosts sort of feed off their own energy supply or like humans make our own blood they make their own ecto.

But Danny is a halfa.

Maybe he doesn't make any or just not in his human form. So when his powers use it up he has to find a way to get more.

In Amity that isn't really a problem, but if he's not in Amity? If he's not even in his dimension?

...

Danny is king, he has been for a few years now. Lets say he's 20 something and he's still learning his og powers as well as his new kingly eldritch ones.

He makes a portal, goes in to check it out, and gets stuck when he doesn't have enough juice to make another one to go back.

Portals aren't simple, even a portal for something human at a lower power level needs a lot to make a portal in their own dimension.

Creating one for an eldritch being, the king of the infinite realms, to another dimension requires an insane amount of energy. so he's stuck... somewhere, with no energy source. Transforming back into something vaguely human looking is taxing so he sits on the ground to take stock. The extra arms, paper white skin and hair, and the many ever shifting eyes are gone, but he can still feel the fangs and pointy ears, his crown shrunk down to a broach keeping a cape in place, it's covered in a frost so cold the fabric around it crystalizes, and his clothing is an odd mix of ghostly regalia and a black hoodie. It doesn't look bad, but he doesn't know how this dimension works just yet and he doubts this will help him "fit in".

Thankfully invisibility and intangibility come so naturally to him it's just the switch that requires ecto, similar to transforming, once he's there that's where he'll stay.

He needs to find a power source, wherever it is he's ended up, so he goes looking. He finds Lazarus pits but they aren't bottomless like the lakes in the zone. Some are like a dripping faucet, sure it'll fill back up at some point but who knows how long that'll take. Others were artificial, someone ripped a hole between realities, probably a small one since the leftover feeling of a portal wasn't there.

Danny stays invisible for nearly 2 months as he searches for a way home, time can act differently between dimensions, in Amity he might be gone an hour or a decade. The best thing to do for now is to get in contact with Clocky and hope they can figure it out together.

While emptying another pit he hears an angry man yell "You said this one wasn't empty."

An obviously nervous voice answers, "It was full this morning, Sir."

"This is the last one we have any record of!" there's a crash that intrigues Danny so he pops above the surface to catch a glimpse.

His stomach falls when he sees a Vlad looking fruit loop tearing apart a makeshift lab in a cave. Equipped with the same ridicules cape and beard.

There is a woman sitting on a folding chair, her legs are crossed and she very obviously is done with whatever fruit loop 2.0 is doing.

He was expecting to find more than 4! If that's the last of the leaks he needs to find another source asap.

"We can head to Gotham." the woman says, still uninterested as she pulls at a thread on her sleeve. "That place has always been a cesspool for everything weird."

"Nyssa." the man takes a breath, no longer yelling he continues, "We've tried that."

The woman stands, she looks scarier calm than the fruitloop does angry. "No, we tried to find one. We couldn't search there cuz of the bats, but if there are a few diversions we could get enough equipment into the sewers and we'd continue our search unnoticed."

Danny doesn't care much about the rest, he needs to get to Gotham before they do. He just needs to find where that is.

...

Jason Todd came back from the dead a few years ago. [We can leave him at around 23, idk what age he was when Talia plopped him into the pits.]

He's angry ALL the time, it fogs his mind so much it feels like he's no longer in control of his body. He knows he nearly killed one of his brothers, possibly two, but they ignore it so he does too.

He hasn't seen his family much since he was... brought back. As always, something pushes him to take action when he would rather not.

This time it's a rumor amongst his lackeys about someone planning on killing Redhood. They don't know he and Red are the same person, so he was planning on leaving the helmet at a safe house and sticking around to give orders and keep an eye on things.

That plan falls through when a group of three come up to him, they think he spends the most amount of time with the boss and want to keep their leader safe, but don't feel they have that kind of relationship with him to show how worried they are. They push Jason to take Redhood and hide.

His way of doing things creates a pretty even playing field amongst the lackeys, other than Redhood himself. If he refuses he's not a team player, if he tries to advise against it they'll think he's the one trying to kill his own alter ego.

He has to go somewhere none of his enemies know of, but also where none of his allies know.

That's how he's ended up being shuffled into the manor by Alfred, duffle bag in his arm and a headache so horrendous it's hard to understand what Alfred is saying.

~

Jason had been at the manor for two weeks, in that time he'd heard of two territory fights by crime alley, someone emptying the Lazarus pits around the world, and the assassination attempt on him hasn't played out yet.

He was going insane with his family on him at all times. No matter what he did someone was with him.

He knew telling them he felt ill and didn't want to hurt an innocent if the rage took over wasn't the best idea, but he couldn't think of one that would work as well to get them on his side.

That meant, however, that he wouldn't be able to go out on patrol at all nor leave the manor alone.

Damian, of all of them, was the one that helped him. He still acted like the spoiled brat he always was, but he'd grown. He was calmer, not by much, but it took him longer to be set off than he used to.

It wasn't hard to convince him not to say anything, he still knew his brother after all he came prepared. An intricate knife from 15th century china he nabbed off a man with a sword collection that could rival Damians and a story of wanting to get back his cat that he had to leave at his main safe house was all it took to get Damian to agree.

With his needed entertainment (books and videogames), his cat stuffed inside his jacket (which yes, Emma did exist), and ice cream; they were making their way back to the manor at dusk. Jason froze, someone something was following them.

"Dami, do you have your sensor turned on."

"Of course I do." he puffed out his chest and stopped to push back his sleeve.

"Don't stop walking, check what's to my left." the building was boarded up. It hadn't been like that last time he was here.

"Don't tell me what to do." Damian caught up with him before adding, "The building has no electricity or anything in it, but it's weirdly cold."

Just as they both look over to the building something phases through the boarded up window. "Run, now!"

As they take off towards the manor the creature follows them. He can't hear it, no footsteps, no heartbeat, no breathing, but he can feel it. And he wants to fight it.

"It's still following us." Damian whisper yelled. then Damian answered a question he didn't ask. "We're half a mile from the manor, on the road with the ice-cream shop."

"You have your com on?" His need to fight this thing only grew.

"Just with Tim. We should never have them fully off, something could happen."

Of course, he knew that, he suffered those consequences. He was probably the reason it was so enforced... and why it was followed.

Suddenly the roaring of an engine and a black car with all it's doors open comes racing down the road. Damian jumps in first, with Emma stuffed in his jacket he can't just throw himself in so he chucks his games and slides in feet first, hugging his chest to keep her safe.

The doors shut and the car speeds off past the entrance to the manor.

The winding roads should have shook the creature off their trail. It's not long before the car takes them down a secret entrance to the bat cave.

There's yelling before he's even out of the car.

"You could have got hurt!" Tim is yelling at him, "I don't care who you think you are, you put our brother in danger!" The rage starts back up, he was here first, he was the one who could protect Dami not him.

"Timmothy I fight crime."

Tim swivels on his heels, "That thing wasn't human. How would you have fought it exactly?"

Jason can feel himself being engulfed in it again, he's vision going green and his whole body tensing. "Listen here replacement."

"I am not!" Tim turns back around, the steam in him vanishes when he looks at Jason's face.

"Boys," a calm voice echoes through the cave. "No fighting in the cave. Go up stairs to breath or finish outside."

Jason ignores Tim and Dami as he walks to the elevator. He can't look at Alfred, can't let him see him like this.

Once out from behind the bookcase he lets Emma down gently, then flops onto the couch. If they know what's good for them they'll find another way up.

They don't apparently and all three walk out the same exit, bickering.

The noise erases the effort he'd made to quite the pits, as he stands to shut them up the creature floats up through the table.

A terrifying creature with long teeth, pointy ears, long curved nails and a cap hiding a thin hunched figure leans towards him. As he jumps away the thing grabs him and latches on.

Jason tries to shake it off, but it's almost like it's stuck to him. Not physically, but there is something holding them together and it's not the creature.

Suddenly a bright light flashes and the creature turns onto a young man.

"Why's the ecto in this dimension so shit." It... he looks tired, there are bags under his eyes and his skin looks sickly. He's draped over Jason, at first he thought the man was holding Jason in place, but it seemed more like he was holding himself up.

Tim stopped in his tracks. "What the fuck?"

"Language."

"Sorry Alf, but uh... What's happening?"

The man mumbled something, he rested his head on Jason's shoulder, he could see the effort it took to speak louder. "I'm so hungry dude. Why are you the only liminal person I've come across? It makes no sense."

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6

[battymommastuff]

The Loop [Lighting Strikes Twice]

Batmom x Batfamily

Prompt: Okay, what the hell is happening? She was perfectly fine...she was safe

Masterlist Part 1 Part 2

TW: DARK THEMES AND DEATH

Here you were making your delicious birthday breakfast. Here you were making your delicious breakfast...with your entire family watching you. You were glad that the kitchen was big enough to fit so many bodies inside of it. "I really don't need all of you to watch me. I'm sure I'll be perfectly fine cooking the eggs." You said jokingly, obviously unaware of what's been happening to you. After beating the eggs, you turned to grab a knife so you could slice the bacon.

"NO!" Your entire family screamed out, making you nearly drop the sharp blade on your foot. Dick jumped over the counter that separated you from the rest of them, and took the knife from you, "How about you let us make the breakfast. Hell, most of us have watched you do it since we were kids." Dick said and nudged you out of the way.

"Dick I-" You were cut off by Bruce pulling you further away from your oldest son and towards him, "Why don't we take the plane somewhere? FIji? It'll be just the two of us" Bruce asked hoping that you would readily agree. You did. It's been awhile since you had the chance to be alone with your husband.

After he sent you upstairs to pack, he turned to everyone else. "We can't let this happen again." He said instantly switching from happy husband to The Dark Knight. "Both times she's...died, we were in Gotham. Leaving the city has to be the solution. I want everyone on watch. We WILL make it through today." Bruce said and several heads started nodding.

What they didn't know was that you didn't go upstairs. You were leaning against the wall right outside of the kitchen. You knew that your family could act weird at times. They run around kicking crazy villains in the face at night, but this was different. They all looked at you as if you were the one they were trying to stop. As you listened to what Bruce said, your face formed into a frown. Were they talking about you? You didn't die...you were standing right there.

Before you could listen more, Alfred opened another door to exit into the hallway, so you quickly made your way upstairs to pack.

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You gave each member of your family a warm hug before boarding the private jet. Each of them hugged you back as if they would never see you again. It made what you heard even more suspicious. They were keeping something from you, and you were going to find out what it was.

After boarding the plane, you sat down across from your husband who gave you a warm smile. He loved you to pieces...he truly truly did, but that man never smiled. The only time he ever smiled was in front of the press. Normally you would bombard him with questions, but he could still exit the plane if he needed to.

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Now that you were up in the air, you took your seatbelt off to relax. "Bruce, what's going on?" You asked as you crossed your leg over the other. You were dressed in attire for an island and he was too. He wasn't lying about going to Fiji, "Was the fight with the League over me?" You asked your second question before he could answer the first.

"Nothing's going on Y/N. We just wanted to spend a little time with you on your birthday. The trip to Fiji was a last minute thing." Bruce was a good liar. He had to be for what he does with his freetime, but that didn't matter now; You knew something was wrong.

"That's interesting, I'm always able to use a knife to cut food. Today you all lost your mind as soon as I picked it up." A small smirk made its way onto your face. That smirk always appeared when you caught someone in a lie. You could see the confidence start to weaken on Bruce's face after you said that. He knew that they acted out too quickly. They should have kept their composure.

"Also, I happen to overhear your little conversation with our kids after I left the kitchen." Game over. You knew something was up, and Bruce knew he couldn't talk his way out of this one. There was a reason he was trying to get you to leave Gotham, and you had him in the perfect place to figure out what it was.

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"So who's trying to kill me?" You asked after a long pause between the two of you. Bruce tensed up, and you frowned. A death threat or attempt on your life wasn't anything new. You were Bruce Wayne's wife, and Batman's wife. Those who hated the Waynes lashed out at you, and the ones who knew of Batman's identity also lashed out at you.

"We don't know...we've...um..." Bruce's voice started to crack as he struggled to find the words to say. He didn't know how to explain this to you without freaking you out. Everyone loved to say that you were the perfect woman to be Batman's wife. He was known as the World's Greatest Detective, and that skill bled into you as well.

"Bruce?" You said softly after your husband completely broke down. His hands covered his face and he rested his elbows on his knees. This wasn't anything new. He would have moments like this a lot...when he thought about his parent's death. You knew there was magic, and things that couldn't be explained in this world.

"How many times have I died?" You asked, resting your shaky hand on his forearm. While there were magical villains, there were also villains that could manipulate time, "Bruce, please talk to me."

Bruce moved his hands away from his face, and he let you interlace his fingers with yours. Your wedding bands rubbing together in an oddly comforting way to both of you, "Twice...the first was at a party we threw to surprise you...the second...you were stabbed by someone...we still don't know who it is. Then we all wake up, the kids and I. We wake up and it's today all over again."

Any normal person would have quickly dismissed this as a lie, but after seeing the things you've seen? You weren't questioning it at all. "I'm sure we'll figure this out. We're out of Gotham, surely whoever is trying to kill me can't follow us here." You reassured him then climbed into his lap, "Let me distract your mind. Just lean back, and I'll take care of you."

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Bruce rested his head on yours as you slept in the seat next to his. His arm wrapped tightly around your shoulders, and yours were hugging his waist. He looked at the time on his watch, and saw that time had passed, you would have been dead by now. Bruce let out a breath of relief when he saw that.

It seems like he was right, leaving Gotham was the answer. Now he needs to keep you hidden until they find whoever is doing this to you.

Or so he thought...

The weather outside of the plane went from sunny to very cloudy. Those clouds then turned dark as thunder rumbled from all around them. Bruce felt an odd sense of dread fill him as he saw the lighting in the clouds. He didn't see any storms in the forecast before they took flight. That dread soon turned to horror when the lighting hit one of the plane's engines. The explosion startled you awake, and you sat up quickly.

Bruce made his way into the cockpit to find both of his pilots had vanished. There was no way they could have jumped. You both were facing the doorway, you would have seen them leave. He wasted no time in taking control. He could fly the batplane, this was simple work. He would signal the batplane then fly out of the storm. They would make it with one engine, and his plane was very fast.

"Bruce!" You screamed out as you saw another bolt hit the second engine. He saw it as well. He knew what this was. Whatever wanted to kill you had found you. Bruce got up from the pilot's seat, and quickly made his way to you, "There are parachutes, we're going to have to jump. The batplane should be here any second." He then made his way to the bin that held the parachutes.

As if fate was against him, there was only one. The plane was still gliding through the air, but they couldn't wait. Bruce picked up the parachute to try and get you to wear it, but you pushed back towards him, "Bruce no. If this is what you told me, then I'll die..and you'll wake up. In some twisted way, this is the only way we'll both live." You said and forced your husband into the parachute.

"And if it isn't, and this is just fate truly fucking us over...then you still need to survive. The world needs Batman more than it needs Y/N Wayne." That last sentence broke both of your hearts to hear and say. When Bruce refused to move, you were the one who opened the door to the plane.

You braced yourself against the wall, so you didn't go flying out of it, "If you wake up again, save me." You said then pushed Bruce out of the plane before he could do or say anything. You watched as he fell quickly through the air and watched the parachute unfurl.

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Bruce looked up towards the crashing plane, and saw you standing by the doorway. He watched you vanish from the door. You walked back into the plane, and sat down in the nearest seat. You felt tears rushing down your face as you felt the plane start turning down.

The plane would never touch the water below them. The largest bolt of lighting he's ever seen came from the clouds and hit the plane. As if he were watching a movie, the plane exploded. Bruce let out a gut wrenching scream as he watched the explosion fill the sky. Never had he wanted to wake up so badly in his life.

He then saw something slowly falling from the explosion. It was too small to be your body. The batplane flew through the clouds, and Bruce was safe in the pilot's seat. The falling object still fell, and landed gently on the nose of the plane and he felt sick.

Slowly the handle started to spin, and the little clock arms started turning. Despite bullet proof glass separating them, he heard that nursery rhyme that he would grow to hate. Bruce felt his eyes grow heavy and he collapsed back against the seat when sleep took over his body.

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Bruce's eyes opened, and he sat up in his bed. He didn't need to know what the date was or what time it was. He knew the loop had repeated. He knew you were in the bathroom, and he knew that his door was about to open and his family would flood the room with questions. They weren't there this time, and they didn't have to witness what he had to.

On que, the door opened, and everyone made their way into the room. Nothing was said between anyone as they all looked at Bruce, and he looked at them.

You finished up your morning routine, and stepped out of the bathroom. You let out a soft shriek when you saw everyone in your room, "You all scared me. You aren't supposed to be awake yet. I have to make my special birthday breakfast first!"

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[loveephia]

:¨ ·.· ¨: osamu miya's valentine special.

`· . ꔫ sypnosis: in which you ask osamu how to bake a cake for your crush. osamu, heartbroken, willingly teaches you without him knowing that he was your crush all along.

content: (🦷) tooth-rotting fluff, minor hurt with comfort, osamu thinking his love was unrequited, reader is a cheeky one, inaccurate recipe.

⚠ warning/s: none.

my HQ masterlist. (valentine's edition)

"i need help." was the first thing you said to osamu today. "wow, not even a "good mornin'"?" he jokes. you only continued to look at him with a serious expression, which meant that you weren't in a joking mood. osamu gulped. you could be really intimidating sometimes..

"..what do you need my help fer?"

"i need you to teach me how to bake a cake for valentine's day." you admitted. now, atsumu, the elder twin who happened to be sitting right next to osamu, was intrigued. "a cake?" atsumu chuckles, "you gonna give that to yer li'l crush, or what?"

the way your eyes widened with the innocent pair of your red cheeks broke osamu's heart. atsumu's eyes, too, were widened at the unexpected reaction from you. he looked over at the younger twin with sympathy, knowing how he's been madly in love with you ever since middle school. yeah, they fight like tyranical pigs, but at the end of the day, they're still family.

osamu coughed, trying to clear the sudden dryness in his throat. "oh— yeah. okay. sure, i'll teach ya." he assures you, and the way your face lit up was just adorable. but the aching fact that you were this ecstatic to bake a cake for someone that wasn't him was just painful.

"is after school alright?" you asked, and osamu nodded. once you left to go to your own classroom, osamu looked over at atsumu with a wounded expression.

"told ya she didn't like me." he mumbles, "i'd like the three pudding packs we bet on, please."

"..got it."

time skip.

you walked home with the miya twins. since osamu would be teaching you how to bake, atsumu wanted to tag along "just for the fun of it." he claims.

but atsumu had a plan.

it's called:

"make-y/n-fall-for-osamu-by-being-extra-annoying."

he thinks it's a brilliant name. spot on.

you unlocked the door to your house and showed the twins where the shoe rack was. once they took their shoes off, you dropped two pairs of house slippers, letting them switch shoes and rest on the couch. "wait here, i'll just go and change." you excused yourself from the twins to put on some more comfortable clothes.

the house was tidy. there was a wall of framed pictures that caught osamu's eye. most of them were of you when you were younger. there was one of you with a pet, one of you smiling with a missing tooth, another with you eating ice cream, and plenty more. it made osamu unknowingly smile.

atsumu cringed.

sure, he's trying to make you fall for osamu, but that doesn't mean he's magically immune from the lovesick glances of his brother.

"okay, i'm back!" you returned in a nice set of pajamas and your hair tied into low pigtails. "so cute!" both the twins thought as they clenched their chests.

"i want to bake a heart-shaped red velvet cake so that it fits in with the theme of valentine's. do you think he'd like something like that?" you asked osamu with a cheeky little smile, hinting toward your crush.

"it'll be from you. of course he'd like it." osamu thought out loud, and your jaw drops momentarily. "o- oh! you think so?" you said, bashfully rubbing the back of your head. "yes. i'm sure of it." he replied.

silence. it was so overbearing that atsumu had to hold in his own cough.

"d- do you have any cream cheese? it'd be good for the frostin'." he asked, trying to clear the tension in the air. you looked inside your fridge and found two blocks of cream cheese. "mhm!"

"okay. let's wash our hands, then i'll tell you what to do." he said. you went to the kitchen, and osamu looks over at atsumu, who was watching the two interact before him with a smirk. "don't do anythin' stupid." osamu said before following you into the kitchen. "ha?! like i'd do anythin' stupid, stupid!" atsumu exclaimed in offense.

time skip.

you held a white, clean, apron in front of you with a gleeful little smile. "y'know it's not really necessary to wear one, right? especially since we're just doin' this at home." osamu says.

you nod it off, "yes, i know, but i've always wanted to wear one of these!" you tie the laces comfortably around your nape and you then reach for the ones near your waist next.

osamu reaches over and ties it for you. "is this okay?" he asks. you nod, your heart beating erratically against your chest at the kind gesture.

"you two gotta knock it off with the lovey-doveyness, it's givin' me a headache." atsumu says, and osamu snaps his head at the older twin with an exasperated expression "nevermind, i think my head is fine." atsumu quickly replies.

time skip.

you laid all of the ingredients, needed utensils, measuring cups, bowls, and appliances out on your kitchen table gracefully. now, you were just staring at osamu for his instructions. unbeknownst to you, osamu found your expression right now very cute.

"so.. what now?" you asked.

"right— okay."

"focus, 'samu. i get that y/n is cute & all, but y'gotta teach her sooner or later." atsumu said from the dining table. he just wanted to watch, and.. perhaps commentate.

what atsumu said brought both your faces aflame. "shut yer trap, 'tsumu. if you're just here to watch us, go home." osamu scolded. "no way! m'definitely helpin'." atsumu raised his own hands as if he's been caught, "just not in the way you think." atsumu says under his breath.

time skip.

you're trying, keyword: trying, to whisk the egg whites together, but it's not getting to the meringue texture you're aiming for. osamu sees you struggling and decides to help you. he stands closely behind you and puts his large palm over your own hand that's holding the whisk. "like this." he mutters lowly as he demonstrates, using your hand to whisk the egg whites. soon enough, you notice that the texture is finally changing!

"woah! osamu, you're a genius!" you cheered, your eyes sparkling at the clear difference.

osamu smiles softly. this feels oddly domestic..

"if you both keep standin' close like that, i'm gonna start thinkin' you're husband and wife." atsumu interrupts your sweet moment with a fact, and osamu is quick to distance himself from you. "will you be quiet for just once in yer damned life..?" osamu murmured, ignoring the sudden rise in the temperature.

atsumu shrugs, "m'just sayin'!"

time skip.

the cake is finally finished. osamu let you deal with the designs as you wanted it to be special and from the heart. it ended up being prim and perfect, a cake that screamed you. just like how you wanted.

"thank you for helping me, 'samu. and thank you 'tsumu for.. coming over?" you expressed your gratitude in a mildly uncertain way. "it was nothin'." atsumu grinned as if he had just accomplished something great.

he didn't even know if his plan worked, but he did enjoy watching you and osamu interact today.

"see ya tomorrow, y/n!" atsumu bids his goodbyes, and he's out of sight. now, you're left with osamu. "i— uhm.. see you tomorrow, 'samu!" you squeaked, and before osamu could reply, you closed the door on him.

osamu sighs. his twin was probably being too pushy with the teasing today, and he must've made things weird between you two.

which is what he thinks.

thanks to atsumu, you're rolling around on the floor like a child, giggling over the number of comments he made earlier about you and osamu looking all cute together.

while you couldn't wait for valentine's, osamu was practically dreading it.

time skip.

you can tell that osamu has been avoiding you. the way he dodged your attempts of hugging him or the way he didn't answer when you called out his name.

you didn't know exactly why he was doing this, but you had a small idea.

it was the end of the day, and you saw osamu walking home alone. you asked atsumu to stay behind for a bit so as not to ruin the moment.

"boo!" you attempted to spook osamu, and since he looked like he was deep in thought, you succeeded. he flinched and looked behind him to see the one and only culprit. you.

"oh, y/n." he recognizes your cute face, "did you give the cake to yer crush yet? how'd it go?" he asked one question after another, even though he really didn't want to know the answer.

"nope. he kept avoiding me for some reason." you said. osamu only hummed in sympathy.

"but.. now that i have him here, alone, i was thinking that he'd stop avoiding me now?" you brought the boxed cake to osamu's view, and his eyes widened.

"wh—"

"osamu miya, i like you." you finally confess, "actually, i've.. loved you since middle school."

osamu mentally facepalms. his feelings were requited since middle school?! he wasted so many years holding himself back from intertwining fingers, kissing you, and most importantly, showering you in all the affection you deserve. what an idiot!

but this time, he doesn't waste any more of his given seconds.

he cups your cheek and kisses you.

the moment atsumu hears about this, he's going to be boasting about the fact that he brought you two together in your wedding ceremony. even though he most absolutely did not.

© lowercase intended | loveephia

[jiveyuncle]

"Fuck." Pidge hisses. "The ship's got an encryption software on it. Downloading any information off of it is going to scramble the information. It'll take days to decode."

"We can't wait days to go after him." Keith growls.

"I don't even know if we can wait for it to download." Hunk warns. The fire burns higher, inching its way up the body of the craft. "Pidge you gotta hurry."

"It's downloading! It won't go any faster!"

Keith slams the exit controls on his lion, and closes his helmet's face shield to switch over to using the suit's oxygen.

As the ramp extends out, Lance radios in. "Keith, what are you doing?" His tone is laced with nervous warning.

Keith pulls himself into the burning ship. "We don't need to download or decode if someone can just read the damn data, right?"

"While true, hypotheticals don't really help with our current situation." Pidge says with a bit of anxious exasperation. "I can't read Galran."

Keith finds Pidge in the cockpit, looking up at a small data screen. "I can."

"Keith, no." Lance breathes.

They don't have time for secrets and the hesitation that comes with keeping them. Fuck his history. Allura can strike him down so long as they get Shiro back.

Surprise! I drew/added one more artwork today! Here’s the last batch art from the fic.

Okay. So. The things I feel that the Humans-are-descended-from-Alteans plot would answer in canon:

+why Alteans look so Human,

+why a lion was hidden on Earth specifically,

+why Altea and Earth both have identifiable *lions* as fauna (headcanoning that lions were Altean pets/house guardians and that some were brought with them while fleeing),

+why Keith could sense the lion of Voltron in the desert,

+why all the locations around the lions glowed when they got near,

+why a crew of all humans were the chosen operators of Altean-made weaponry,

+why Lance got the Altean marks at the end of the show,

etc.

ALSO

Copy/pasting this rant I had about why I love it even more for this reincarnation AU:

Keith's current mom can absolutely still fit the canon version. It would make double sense that she didn't want the Galra to find the lion on Earth and why she left if the planet is crawling with [what she suspects is] the Galra's # 1 enemy (of which she's in love with) - to protect them. And with Keith being the child of a Galran and an Altean, it would make the storytelling symbolic side of my brain happy for him to be the reason they find the lions - the literal embodiment of unifying the two biggest enemies being the one to sense/wake the thing meant to bring peace? The person they thought started the whole Galra vs Altean divide being the evidence that they can in fact get along, and then living it himself? Uhg. Love. I wanted to write hints of it in the fic and even reveal it (I had several ideas of how and where), but it felt like too much to cram in. So, I'll probably just continue it with comic stips and doodles later.

Fic: Sure and Indelible on AO3:

[oh-koenig-my-koenig]

Fit for a King - WIP - "You are tiny"

Fit for a King - Masterlist

König fanfiction scenes and chapters that do not yet have a coherent plot

planned content/TW: rivals to lovers, König x fem!character (not too descriptive to make it accessible for more readers), social anxiety killing machine König, badass friendly FMC, dual POV, secret relationship, switch energy, NSFW, adult themes, strong language, violence (more details are still unclear, gonna update as I go), authentic austrian german

a/n: well, my brain isn't letting go of this newest obsession of mine, so I will appease it and write some scenes/chapters that come to mind. i have written more original work and less fanfictions and our boy (and KorTac) is hard to research, but I'll try my best to stay some-what cannon to the lore. it'll also probably get darker down the road.

if your character doesn't have a tragic backstory, why not give him one?

A not so meetcute

(CW: some mature language)

I strut along the hallway, I'm already late to report for duty and turn the corner abruptly. I collide with somebody else at full walking force and almost get pushed to the floor, if the big figure blocking the light shining from above wouldn't have caught me. "Ouch.", I yelp, more surprised than hurt, even though I feel like ran over by a truck.

I steady myself to look at the "truck". I look up and I keep looking up and up. At first there's just this chest, a huge chest, in a simple compression shirt, but oh boy. The weapon holster is what I see next, sitting snug at the side of his torso. Shoulders, big broad shoulders, and normally you would expect to have a head sitting on top of them and a face looking back at you. I guess, he has one as well, even though I don't see one bit of it. I strain my neck to finally meet his eyes.

But all I see is the dark black of a… sniperhood? A T-shirt? I mean, it looks like a t-shirt, that somebody cut holes in to fashion themselves a kind of mask. The front is stained with bleach, two streaks coming down from the eyeholes... My eyes widen as it sinks in who this is. König. KorTac operator, field combatant and one of my superiors. Shit. I've heard some rumors about him. And it seems like at least some of them ring true.

"You are tiny.", he states matter-of-factly, his Austrian accents shining through the uttered words. It's the first thing he says to me. "And you are... not.", I retort. I can't make out his expression as it so obviously is hidden by his mask. He nods, turns around and heads down the hallway where he came from. I shake my head. What the hell was that?

I stretch myself, feeling the impact of the collision already. My god, that was like being hit by a battering ram. I heard that his specialty is breaking down doors with brute force. I thought this to be ridiculous, but now as I watch the gigantic muscled man strut down the hallway, quickly disappearing, I do believe it. 6'10" killing machine. Ridiculous.

I shake my head again and make my way to the meeting room. Ridgeback is already waiting for me.

______________________________________________________________

Fuck. Shit. Fuck. Verdammt. Ah, des hast du ganz super g'macht.* I tell myself sarcastically in my head as I basically run down the hallway. She must be one of the new hires. Must be. And you almost turned her to mush. Mus. Brei. Human remains splattered against the wall. I curse myself again. I didn't even apologize. "You are tiny." No shit, Sherlock, everybody is tiny compared to you. I continue to mock myself. Fuck, Shit, Fuck.

"Ridge, since when do we hire children?", I ask him as soon as I enter the room. He doesn't even look up. "We don't." He keeps reading. "Then why did I just almost run over a recruit that didn't even reach my waist?" – “Because compared to you, everybody seems tiny.” He sighs and looks up at me. “None of our personnel are under 6’, not even the women.”

“Even the new recruits?”, I ask him again. He furrows his brow. “What did you do, König?”, he wants to now. “I may or may not have almost trampled one of them.”, I say, kleinlaut***. He sighs again. “I think that was Müller, she’s actually on her way here.”, Ridgeback says. “Müller? Is she german?”, I ask in surprise. I didn’t hear such an accent on her, but to be fair, she only said like three words… and I wasn’t really paying attention to her words anyway.

On cue, the door opens and I fall silent. “Permission to enter, Sir?”, she says with a clear voice. Not at all seeming like I almost turned her into pulp. I take two steps back to stand in the back, trying to blend into the wall behind me – which I already know from experience is not going to work. “Come in.”, Ridge says. “Müller, right?” She nods and approaches. My focus is fully on her, all the small bits I noticed about her before are still there. She’s not wearing a mask because it’s not necessary off mission. You know, like you normally would. She has laugh lines. Around her eyes and mouth. Fucking laugh lines. She doesn’t look like she belongs here.

The two of them are talking, but I catch every single time when her gaze lands on me, even if it’s just from the corner of her eyes. I fight against the urge to turn away every time she looks at me, when I hear Ridgeback drop the old s-word. Sniper.

My ears perk up and I finally pay attention to what they’re saying again. “Your track record is almost immaculate, Müller. You’re gonna be an asset to the team on the next missions.”, he says to her. I can see that she tries to hold back a proud expression or smile on her face, but she doesn't really succeed at that. God damn it, a sniper. I groan and make my way to the door which doesn’t go unnoticed. “König.”, Ridgeback pipes up. “You wanna show Müller the way to the dorms?” as I already have my hand on the doorknob.

I still for just a moment and the roaring sensation of anxiety seeps at my feet and crawls up my body until it’s nested at the back of my head. I can’t talk to her. Not after embarrassing myself before. “Nein.”, is all I say before I’m out the door.

*God damnit. You did a really bang up job. ** two different words for pulp/mash *** meekly (word for word: 'smallloud')

[opposums-love-arson]

Scream Queen Book 1: Conventional Final Girl

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Stu Macher x Reader x Billy Loomis

Okay so basically let's just cut to the chase, the main character "(y/n)" is Sidney Prescott's little stepsister, yeah? Well, what happens when she takes Sid's place as the final girl? A whole lot. Disclaimer: All rights reserved to the copy righted owners of the Scream franchise. The only creative input I had in this fan fiction was the part of (y/n), almost everything else can be found in the movie. Follows the movie very closely. I mean the actual movie, not the script. Obviously switching out some parts to fit the narrative. It takes a couple of chapters to really get it kicking but I promise it gets good. *NO SMUT* these are still high school students and I do not want to overtly sexualize KIDS! And if you make the argument of "I'm not a kid" I'm 18 been there, done that, don't try it.

  "Hello, who is it?" I asked into the large telephone. 

"No one in particular..." Sounds like another one of the boys' prank calls.

"Okay Mr. No one in particular, any reason for the call?" 

"No reason in particular, just wanted to talk." 

"Hmm okay then talk," I said as I swiveled around in my chair.

"What's your favorite scary movie?" The raspy but oddly pitched voice asked. 

"Oh I've got plenty but you might want to sit down, it'll take a while." 

"I've got time." 

"Ya know, stuff like Halloween, Friday the 13th, Texas Chainsaw. Then there's creature features like The Thing. B-horror like Slumber Part Massacre or Sleepaway Camp." I finally finish my rambling when I hear my step sister and her boyfriend in the other room. 

"Do you really like scary movies?" 

"Oh yeah definitely but I think it's mainly because of my step sister's friends?" 

"Oh yeah?" 

"Yeah, I mean I always liked horror but they really got me into it. Especially our friends Randy, Billy and Stu, they're crazy about that stuff!" I said as I flopped down onto my bed. 

"What's a pretty girl like you doing with all those guys?" 

"They're not a lot of guys, if anything it equals out our group," I said, completely avoiding the whole 'pretty girl' thing... that was kind of weird. 

Hearing a knock at my door completely startled me. 

"Oh um hey I have to go but feel free to call me back anytime," I whisper into the phone quickly placing it back on the body. 

It was obvious the person on the line was saying something before I hung up but I didn't bother to listen 

  In popped Neil's head from the other side of the door. "Hey kiddo who ya talking to?" He said as he looked around. "Hm? Oh no one, what's up Neil?" I asked, now back in my desk chair. Neil was a good guy, I'm glad he and my mom started dating, they actually just got engaged! I think I was more excited about it than my step sister, Sindey, she's still grieving. "Just got done talking to your sister, I'm going to hit the sack, remember I'm not back until sunday. Cash on the table and call if you need anything," He said waiting for me to say something. "Alright got it Neil, have fun at the expo!" I waved him off before he closed the door. 

  My mom and I didn't move to Woodsoro until she really started dating Neil. It's always just been her and I for as long as I can remember, but it feels good to be part of a complete family again. I missed our old home at first with all my friends and family but Sid quickly took me under her wing. I met all of her friends including Stu, Tatum, Randy and Sid's boyfriend Billy. I'll admit it was weird at first because they just saw me as the little step sister but once Randy and I went on a ranting debate about which was the real pioneer of Slasher; Texas Chainsaw or Black Christmas, it got a lot easier. Even though Stu and Billy were pretty cute I'll never be used to Stu's wild energy, nor Billy's slightly shady behavior.

  The next morning didn't go quite as expected... There were reporters, cameras, and news vans posted up all around school. Sid and I were freaked the moment we got off the bus. She was looking around bewildered by everything going on until we spotted one woman in particular, Gale Weathers. To say the least, Weathers was a total bitch towards Sid's mom's name. 

"Can you believe this shit?!" We heard a voice pop up from behind us. Sid totally jumped. 

"Tatum, what is going on?" Sidney asks, waving her arm out to the school. 

"Yeah, since when was Woodsboro flooded with reporters?" I looked over at Tatum, crossing my arms over my chest. 

"You don't know?" Tatum asked both of us, a hint of amusement on her face.

"No," Sid and I said in unison, still confused. 

"Casey Becker and Steve Orth were killed last night," She said with a harsh but light tone just above a whisper. 

"What?! No way!" Sid softly exclaimed. 

I was too shocked to say a single word so I just listened. 

"And we're not just talking killed, we're talking splatter movie killed. Ripped open, from end to end," Tatum talked about it with entertaining ease, like it was just gossip. 

I think I'm going to be sick. 

"Casey Becker, she sits next to me in English," Sid said looking over at her best friend. 

I think you mean sat, Sid. I thought. 

"Not anymore," Said Tatum with a wobble of her head. 

She went on saying, "It's so sad, her mom and dad found her hanging from a tree. Her insides on the outside." Shoving her hands near her stomach. 

"Oh my god," Sid said as she reached for the back of her neck, probably to feel the goosebumps that appeared. 

"Do they know who did it?" I finally asked, feeling the urge to know. 

The two looked over at me with Tatum saying, "Fucking clueless, I mean they're interogating the entire school? Teacher, students, janitors." 

"They think someone at school did it?" Sid asked

"They don't know, I mean Dewy was saying this is the worst crime he's seen in years. Even worse than-" Tatum paused when I nudged her side, "Well, it's bad." She finished. 

The bell signaling the start of the first period rang.

"C'mon Sid, we gotta get to class..." I said as I lightly grabbed her hand, giving it a slight reassuring squeeze. 

"Yeah, alright..." She responded, removing her hand from mine. She's just going through a lot right now. 

  Sitting through the first period is weird when you have a seat that was right behind a dead person. Not Casey Becker but Steve Orth. He'd ask me for a pencil or notes every day because he forgot his. Claimed it was because of football practice. Soon enough the five minute bell for next class rang. A class that didn't have any dead students.

  Walking to my locker to rotate my books I was blocked by none other than Stu Macher. 

"Hey, (y/n)," He drawled out my name with a big smile, "Whatcha up to?" 

"Getting my books Stu, same thing you should be doing." 

"C'mon, you're not still upset with me, are you?" He asked with a fake pout 

"Yeah actually I am Stu!" I shouted in a whisper 

"I couldn't help myself, I mean look at you?" He said as he squished my face. 

Swatting his hand away I said, "That's no excuse!" 

"You can be such a prude," he said as he leaned his head on my locker. 

"No, it's called being a good friend with a balanced moral compass that can see when her friend's boyfriend is about to cheat with her." I huffed as I slammed my locker door. 

"C'mon, (y/n)! You can't stay pissed forever! You'll come around eventually!" Stu shouted after me. 

"Like hell I will!" I shouted back. No matter how abundantly clear my feelings for him are, I would never do that behind Tatum's back.

[cowgurrrl]

Graceland Too

Pairing: Joel Miller x fem!reader (plus platonic Ellie Williams x fem!reader)

Author’s note: okay but I kinda want to write this into a series (gif by @loregifs)

Summary: “I think we deserve a soft epilogue, my love. We are good people and we’ve suffered enough.” - Seventy Years of Sleep #4. nikka ursula aka Miller/Williams family time plus one [1.1k]

Warnings: Pregnancy talk, tooth rotting fluff, can be read as an additional part to What Sarah Said and Sweet Jane but can also be read as a stand-alone, that’s all

"How's are the Miller's doing today?" He asks as he walks into your shared room. You're laid on your side, counting baby kicks obsessively and trying not to fall asleep. It's still the middle of the day, and your sleep is already fucked. Rest has not gotten easier as the weeks have passed, but it feels especially impossible now at thirty-four weeks. 

It's been a relatively normal pregnancy. Your morning sickness returned with a vengeance and got so bad that you had to go to the hospital to get fluids because you were throwing up so much. It's subsided a little in your second and third trimesters, but even the slightest smell can make you nauseous for the rest of the day. Poor Joel had to switch soaps three times before finding something that didn't agitate either of you. These days, you're exhausted, sore, and ready not to be pregnant anymore.

"This one," you point to your swollen stomach. "Has been kicking my ass all day. I barely got out of bed before I had to lie back down." You sigh. Joel kisses you before leaning down and kissing your belly. 

"You be nice to your mama," he says, and you laugh when the baby kicks in defiance. You grab his hand and place it where you just felt them, and he smiles when the baby kicks at him, too. "Stubborn." 

"Wonder where they get it from." You hum, and he smiles. For a while, you two lay together, feeling for tiny movements as the sun shines high in the sky. He lights up each time the baby moves against his hand, which is more than enough to tolerate the constant kicks in your ribs. He loves this baby so much already.

"You're in the home stretch now," he says. "Any last guesses on what you think it'll be?"

"I still think it's a girl. I'd be shocked if we had a boy."

"I think it's a boy." 

"Because you want a boy or because you actually think it's a boy?"

"Excuse me, I do think it's a boy, and I'd be just as happy if we had a girl," he says as he runs his hand over the hill of your belly. "You're carrying lower. My mama always used to say that was a good way to tell what someone was having."

"Alright, I'll let you have it. Ellie thinks it's a boy, too. She said she just felt it," you look down and poke at your stomach. "Whoever you end up being, can you come out soon? I'm tired."

"Couple more weeks."

"Easy for you to say."

"That's true," he says as you push the hair out of his eyes. "D'you think we're ready?" 

"I think it's a little late to ask that, cowboy," you laugh, and he rolls his eyes. "But, yes, I think we're ready." You, Ellie, and Joel spent weeks converting one of the old rooms in the house into a nursery. At first, they were fine with you helping, but as the weeks passed and you got bigger, they put their foot down. Even if you picked up an empty box or a paintbrush, Ellie would yell from the other side of the room and take it from your hands. When they painted, they barely let you in the house because they thought the fumes would harm you and the baby. You've had to remind them that you've been the one to save their asses multiple times, and you can still do things even though you're pregnant, but you might as well have been talking to a brick wall. 

Joel and Ellie built most of the nursery together— everything from the crib to the rocking chair to the space mobile hanging from the ceiling. They painted the walls a pretty yellow, making the dusty, old room fit for the newest Miller. They painted a growth chart by the door and even marked their own heights and ages in pencil on the wall. You came in when you heard them giggling, and then they insisted on marking how far your bump came out on the wall, too. You couldn't say no when they looked at you with those stupid grins and big eyes. Ellie took a polaroid of you standing in front of the chart as Joel pressed a paint-stained hand to your stomach and kissed you.

Seeing her so excited about the new baby made both of you feel so much better. She's talked nonstop about everything she wants to do with the baby pretty much since she found out you were pregnant. You were unsure how she would react since she's been your only priority for years now, and she's getting older, but she's ecstatic. She held your hair when you woke up throwing up, and Joel was on patrol. She made you soup and reminded you to take the way-too-expensive prenatal vitamins. She even learned to play lullabies on her guitar to sing to the new baby. She'd be a great mom.

"I'm so excited to meet them," Joel says softly, and you smile.

"Me too," You say. You lean in to kiss him and barely graze his lips when the baby kicks in Joel's direction. You try to ignore it and kiss him again when they do it again. They kick you hard enough that Joel feels the baby's foot against his hand, and you both laugh. "I can't believe we're getting cockblocked by a fetus."

"How do you think you got here?" Joel asks loudly, looking down at your stomach.

"What the fuck are you talking about?" Ellie asks as she walks into your room, and you laugh.

"Every time I try to kiss Joel, the baby kicks at him," you say. She gives you that classic Ellie stink face, and you hold out your hand. "C'mere." You urge. She hesitates before walking over to your side of the bed. You take her hand and let her feel the baby's movements, making her smile.

"That's so weird," she says but doesn't move her hand. She lingers, having a semi-private moment with the baby as they turn and wiggle against each of their hands. They are moving back and forth between Joel and Ellie, like they can't decide who they want to hang out with, but they want to be involved. Ellie crouches down next to the bed, resting her chin on her hand, and Joel traces little patterns into the fabric of your shirt. Slowly, the baby settles down and falls asleep, their movements less crazy but still sporadic. 

Ellie and Joel come to the same conclusion but don't move. They stay there with you and the baby as the day rages on outside. Let it rage, you think. I have everything I need right here.

🍓

🍓

🍓

tag list: @evyiione @nyotamalfoy @abbyhaslongshorts

[pixydustworld]

The marriage law was announced at 2pm on a Tuesday.

By 2:15 Hermione had already drafted a motion to dismiss the law entirely. It was a good motion, too. If she’d sent a copy to Ron, he would’ve replied with: wow! lots of words! good stuff!

At 2:17 her motion was denied.

“It’s best to just accept defeat.” Malfoy said from his side of the office, bookshelves neat, papers all stacked in order. “You won’t win this one.”

“I’m not in the habit of giving up.” Hermione snapped. Her side of the office was cluttered, less pristine. Her bookshelf had a nasty habit of overflowing all over the floor, stacks of books balancing precariously on every surface. “A fire hazard.” Malfoy had sneered at her once, “Breaking several codes.”

“Hm.” Malfoy said, “I hadn’t noticed.” He was smiling softly, like he’d just told the funniest joke in the world. Waiting, almost patiently for her to smile. Stupid man with his stupid grin, Hermione wanted to throw a book at his head.

“This is archaic.” Hermione hissed. “The Ministry has gone too far. They can't force us to marry anyone.”

Even as she spoke, a squirming feeling of doubt was beginning to take root in her chest — being friends with Harry came with many things. Companionship and love, but it also came with a healthy distrust of the government (like a free gift basket! but terrible one).

Malfoy ignored her complaints. "Marriage Acts aren't as mid-evil as you're making them out to be." He said, with that annoying voice he used when he knew he was right about something, "They serve a purpose."

"A purpose?" Hermione could practically feel the beginnings of an aneurysm. A fitting death, slumped over her desk, surrounded by unfinished documents and discovered by Draco Malfoy, "Are you actually defending this?"

She would have to find a new partner. A new office, one where he wasn't constantly surrounding her, swimming on the edge of her peripheral vision. Maybe Dean Thomas would let her set up a current workplace in his records closet, he was always bragging about how it was big enough for him to take naps in during work —

"No." Malfoy said, somehow even more amused now, "I don't support it."

"Oh." Hermione said, very eloquently, "That's good."

"But," Malfoy continued, still distinctly unruffled while Hermione was very ruffled, "Most people will be unfazed. It's a Pure-Blood tradition. My parents have always planned to arrange a marriage contract.” Malfoy shrugged, “It’s not absolutely unheard of.”

“Well," Hermione said, out of breath from all the pacing she was doing, "Your parents are terrible.”

“Of course.” Malfoy said, like it was obvious. “They would never allow me the opportunity to sully the Malfoy name. Producing the correct heir is the only thing I’ll ever be good at.”

Hermione frowned. “Hearing about your family isn’t good for our working relationship. It makes me feel bad for you.”

“We can’t have that.” Malfoy said.

“No,” she agreed with a sigh, “we can’t have that.”

“So, tell me Granger. What is your plan?” His grin became less self indulgent, more fake. “You’ll have to marry someone. It'll undoubtably be the event of the season — have a fiancé you’ve been hiding from me?”

Hermione narrowed her eyes. “Do you think I could hide anything from you?”

Malfoy knew when she changed the scent of her shampoo, when she switched up her coffee order — he even knew if she was sleeping less than usual. It was impossibly annoying to be around someone so observant, someone so intent on cataloguing her every move.

"If I had a secret fiancé, which I don't, I'm confident that you're competent enough to have sniffed him out by now."

Malfoy responding grin was slow and syrupy. "You think I'm competent?"

“Piss off, Malfoy.”

“Is he shorter than me? Is that it? Didn’t want to introduce us because you knew he’d feel bad?”

“You’re taller than everyone.” Hermione said, annoyed, again, “You would obviously be taller than my imaginary fiancé. You’re like an angelic giraffe.”

“You think I’m angelic?”

“No.”

"Two compliments on top of each other, are you feeling alright, Granger?"

"Shut up."

At 2:20, Hermione began to clean her side of the office, desperate for an excuse not to talk to Malfoy.

At 2:22, Harry slammed through her door, completely demolishing the (very little) progress Hermione had made in cleaning up her side of the office.

“I’ll marry you.” Harry said, slightly out of breath, like he’d sprinted all the way to her office, “Do you think we can kiss without making a face? We’ll have to practice.”

“I’m not marrying you.” Hermione said from the floor behind her desk, “You are engaged to Theo.” She was laying on her back with a book covering her face, feeling rightfully sorry for herself.

“Theo won’t mind.” Harry said in the voice he reserved for whenever he wanted people to listen to him (i am harry potter! and i did not spill mustard on the couch! you have to believe me, i saved the world!) “It will be quick. I can get us rings before the day is over.”

"No." Hermione said, still on the floor, "I've gone along with enough of your stupid ideas. This is too much."

Because, despite it all, Harry would do this. Without hesitation, blind loyalty and unwavering determination — Harry would marry her and be pleased with his choices. He was lovely, but at times, Harry could be a misguided idiot.

"This is where you draw the line?" Malfoy hummed, "Interesting to catch a glimpse into the inner workings of your mind."

Finally scrambling to her feet (after a few more seconds of wallowing) Hermione was horrified to find a familiar look on Harry's face — one that promised something stupid.

"I'll figure it out. " Harry said, with a shrug that reminded Hermione of their childhood (occidentally, the stress headache she was feeling also reminded her of their childhood). He pointed a stoic finger at her. "Don't make a face when I kiss you."

Then, he left.

“Theo wouldn’t mind,” Malfoy said in a helpful voice, “He’d probably marry you as well. Would it be Granger-Potter-Nott? Or Granger-Nott-Potter? Better figure that out soon. Potter seems eager to find those rings.”

Hermione threw a book at his head.

Malfoy caught it with ease, his stupid Quidditch hands.

“I have an idea,” Malfoy said after a moment.

Hermione ignored him. “There has to be a way out of this.” She was pacing again, sensible shoes kicked off to the corner (where she’d undoubtedly forget them) “I could write another motion? A longer one this time. With more quotes.”

“Marry me instead.”

Hermione stopped pacing. “Excuse me?”

“I’m your best option.”

“I have many options —

“Weasley already tricked someone into marrying him and Potter is engaged to my only friend.” He frowned, in a mocking sort of way. “Did I leave anyone out?”

“No.” Hermione said flatly. “You didn’t.”

“Alright then. Marry me.”

“Hah.” She said, “Hah. I take back everything I’ve ever said about you. Malfoy, you are funny.”

“I’m being serious.” He said, looking annoyed. Fantastic, they were both annoyed. Like they always were.

“We can get married before the law passes and then you can do what you do best.” Malfoy continued, like that was a totally normal thing to say.

“Which is?” Without her shoes, the height difference was unbearably noticeable. She had to tilt her head back to meet his eyes. At some point he'd stopped being a willowy wraith of a person and began the unfortunate process of filling out.

He didn’t look away. “Destroy everyone’s expectations and free the downtrodden.”

Hermione rolled her eyes. “What would you get out of this arrangement?”

Malfoy shrugged, too practiced to be nonchalant. “I’d be married to a war hero. It would do wonders for my reputation.”

“And you would be married to me.” Hermione said, beginning to feel like this was getting too real, “We both know that would never happen.”

“Never?”

“Never.” She agreed.

He wasn’t smiling that lazy smile from before, this one was different. Sharper. “I don’t think that’s true.”

“Besides,” Hermione continued on loudly, “you’re no gentleman. No need to pretend. I don’t need saving, I’ll figure this out myself.”

“You don’t need to.” Malfoy said, “I will help. I want to fuck over the Ministry for many reasons, but mainly because they declined your motion.”

He was on her side of the office now, leaning casually against her desk, inches away from where she stood. He was too pretty up close, like staring at the sun.

“It was very good.” Hermione breathed.

Malfoy nodded, almost too good at pretending to be sincere.

“I’m sure it was good. You touched it. Everything you touch is golden.”

“You truly want to help me?”

“I’ve only offered several times.”

Hermione narrowed her eyes. “All to fuck over the Ministry? No other reason?”

“Maybe I want you all to myself.”

Hermione's eye twitched.

"Don't tease me." She managed to hiss. "Not about this."

She saw when he realized, a flicker of excitement in his eyes — when he noticed her apparent misery at how completely and helplessly she was drawn to him.

"I'd never dream of it." Malfoy said warmly, "You could kill me with ease, only an idiot would be careless around you."

She thought of all the long nights they spent together, crammed in their tiny little office. How she looked forward to her day, if only to see his stupidly pointy face. How she tried to date, but couldn’t. Because it wasn’t right — her dates were too kind, too short.

Not him.

How, through everything, he was the first person she thought of in the morning, the person she thought of in the darkness of the night, when no one could see her wandering hands — the person she looked at for a challenge, for relief and support.

Despite her best attempts, Hermione Granger had fallen in love with Draco Malfoy and now, here he was, seeming to share in her suffering.

“We’d have to consummate the marriage.” She said, giving him one last out. “You’d have to see me naked.”

“I’m sure I’ll survive.”

“I’m very bossy,” she said, “and I work all the time.”

“Good thing we share an office.”

“I’m not easy to love.”

Malfoy scoffed. “It’s been easy enough for me.”

He was close enough to touch, so uncharacteristically open. Looking down at her with fondness she didn’t know he possessed.

“I’m selfish.” Malfoy warned, “Do not forget that. I will help you destroy this law and anything else you want. Burn it all down if you want to. But I won’t be letting you go. Not now, after I've gotten you."

“I suppose that’s fine.” Hermione said softly, watching as his hand moved to touch her face, warm against her skin. "It'll be bearable to be around you, I suppose."

As he held her face in his hands, Hermione watched as his grin transform into something different, something new — a smile she'd only seen glimpses of, one only for her. "I'll work very hard to make our marriage a tolerable one." He said.

"Good," Hermione breathed, stretching up to kiss him, to finally press her lips against his, "I can't wait."

Hermione was married at 3pm on a Tuesday.

It was a small ceremony.

Harry, although he'd never publicly admit it, was relieved.

Despite his best attempts, he would've made a face when Hermione had kissed him.

[nightgoodomens]

I am very sorry but this was in the back of my mind and i just have to say it. It'll never be not funny to me how he talked about egg and chips with more passion than the mother of his children💀 (let alone David who clearly has his own place, the difference is so sky high it's unfair to compare.)

It's really disappointing how some decide to neglect and deny themselves the joy, from one of the most loving relationships out there just for the reason that it doesn't fit into society's norm boxes. Instead they drag the standards embarrassingly low, because they refuse to let go of the perfect image they crafted out of thin air or any modicum of truth.

Sometimes it makes me scarred to live in a society where "goals" for a healthy, happy relationship is reduced to diplomatic answers, we didn't want this but you meet who you meet ( uncanny resemblance to another couple iirc), unhappy content due to cameras being pushed into your face or tasteless insults in a medium you know they can't (or won't,due to dignity) get back at you. How can you say "love" when the man went out of his way to say "because of how we felt about each other" instead of simply saying now we love each other.

I think when he talked about that arrangement it was the only time there was no light in his eyes… With David he was shining, other questions you could see he was having fun too.

We know this fandom was in much denial for a while, but we have reached the point where they even pretend things aren’t there (Neil saying David and Michael are in love) yet saying they can see Michael and Anna are in love (a word Michael refuses to use for her yet easily gives to David, multiple times). They have created their own fantasy. And it’s extra funny because “shippers” are the bad guys basing their views on actual things that are said and the body language etc, whereas “real fans” now actually need to ignore things and put words in Michael’s mouth to keep their fantasy going. They don’t see how weird it is that AL is spending her day on social media looking for validation from strangers either. They don’t see how depressed David is looking and how GT is giving them break up songs. They don’t see DT growing more and more annoyed with GT acting more and more like a paparazzi. They don’t see GT blatantly undermining David’s accomplishments, or insulting him. They don’t see Michael looking sad in the selfies with just AL. They don’t see that it’s a different world if you switch to MS/DT instead. They ignore that it was said that the men are boyfriends. They ignore that Neil told them the men are still in love. They have an excuse for everything. Yet we are the ones making stuff up?

I do think there is some sort of irony in Michael and David starting their relationships with women in a very similar way. And I wonder if this is why David dislikes Anna so much, because seeing this shit playing out in front of him, with someone he deeply cares about, must sting.

Sometimes when I watch this fandom and their choice to use denial so bluntly… it kind of puts in perspective why so many people are in unhappy relationships and why so many people have relationships/marriages falling apart… A lot of people struggle with seeing what’s right in front of them. A bit extra, but you know how politicians can get people to believe lies so easily? Because they know people are gullible. A lot of people struggle to think for themselves and will join collective, sheep thinking to be part of the group. A lot of people are scared to say “actually…”. It’s easier to be part of a group. And some people simply are not capable of analysis. Especially when you give them what they want to see - Brexit is such a fantastic evidence on how you fool half of the country because majority of people do not think for themselves or check evidence. And if you give them what they want to hear? You’re in.

[thatumbrellaoni]

Goodness! This exchange is everything. Takes place when these two lose against your team in the new Tag Duel Tournament (2024). The actual eng translation is typed up and shared here. Very thankful to them since I don't play the game and rely on gameplay videos.

As always, imo the official translators don't do a very good job. Adequate at best... (The pre-duel dialogue is fine). The way Duel Links is translated in eng comes off as very "summarized" to me. Nuances and call backs are lost, if not altogether cut, which is unfortunate. Tbh the real villains of YGO are the translation/localization team.

BAKURA: Hehehe... We lost, Yugi. Is this what you wanted out of a fair fight?

ATEM: There will always be a winner and loser in a competition. But when it comes to us Duelists, there are acceptable ways to win and lose! You have something that's of value (lit. important) to you like that, don't you, Bakura? Like when we had our own duel (aka the first BC match)!

BAKURA: ... Keh! Whatever... I'll tell you one thing. That naivety of yours will get you killed (lit. will prove fatal) in the coming battles... Hyahahahahahahahaha!

So ok!

Atem throws Bakura the same phrase Bakura used when he forces a switch back to get Ryou out of Osiris' attack.

BAKURA: I have my own preferences when it comes to winning...!! (lit. I have ways I like and ways that I don't when it comes to winning...!!)

The manga in general uses speech/thought bubbles weirdly, but it's safe to assume Bakura isn't saying this out loud, considering what's happening in this scene (Atem doesn't actually hear him say this). So it strikes a nerve in Bakura because lmao Atem is on point!

Atem's like, "hey remember when you were a big softy for your host"

And then Bakura's immediate reaction is that of a man who's undeniably guilty as charged,

This face is such a tell. It says so much lmao! It hits home he can't even hide it! Because "That naivety of yours will get you killed". Bakura, is that from experience? 🤭

Here, Atem comments that even if Bakura is an evil entity, he and Bakura aren't different in the aspect that they are meant/destined to protect their respective Item bearers. They have to, even if it comes down to sacrificing themselves.

Yugi initially says that it's a little different between the Yugis and the Bakuras, but ultimately, Yugi agrees with Atem at a fundamental level (as seen here in his conversation with Jounouchi). I think the jp title of that chapter is fitting too. 絆のために!! "For the Sake of Bonds!!"

Look, the chapter where Bakura protects Ryou was released in the March 2001 issue of Shounen Jump. It'll be 23 years since then soon, and Atem still won't let Bakura live that moment of "naivety" down 🤣🤣🤣

I love the Bakura/Atem dynamic (in reference 01, 02)! They're the "bad friends", the vitriolic best buds trope if you cut their historical animosity towards each other. Being AIs programmed by Seto gives them this freedom, I suppose.

[shina913]

On Tilt, Part 6 | KNJ

On Tilt, Part 6

Definition: a poker term for a state of mental or emotional confusion or frustration in which a player adopts a suboptimal strategy, usually resulting in the player becoming overly aggressive.

On Tilt Masterlist

Pairing: Namjoon x Fem!Reader

Rating: M 🔞; NSFW

Genre: idol!AU; strangers-to-FWB-to-lovers; toxic relationship; angst; fluff; smut

Warnings: cussing; dirty talk; neck kisses; heavy petting; nipple play; clit play; body worship; oral (mutual); protected sex; switch!Namjoon; switch!reader

Word count: 5.6K+ words

Summary: You’ve said time and time again that you wouldn’t lose yourself to him. You were in control now. You were going to make better choices. For a minute there, you were able to keep up with it. It wasn’t ‘til Namjoon’s extended break that you found yourself falling into old habits. Will you ever learn to quit Kim Namjoon?

A/N: It's been a long time! If you're still following along, thank you for being patient! I hope to write more frequently. I haven't been inspired to finish much of my wips but I hope you'll enjoy this chapter! I've missed these two.

"I don't know... I think the second half of it seems..." Namjoon sighs, trying to think of an adjective. "Lame?"

"I don't think so," Jon, his co-producer, disagrees.

“Are you sure? I feel like we should add more to it. My vocals sound kind of flat.”

Namjoon, despite having 1,001 tasks to complete before his album release, had also agreed to do a feature verse on a track for one of his industry friends. He sits in one corner of the room, his gaze fixed on the large screen displaying multiple layers of squiggly waves that represent the various instrumental and vocal tracks he’s recorded.

Jon has worked with him long enough to know when he’s actually giving notes or just being nitpicky.

“Your vocals are fine,” he says reassuringly. “Your verse is perfect–it really fits the song!”

Namjoon sighs heavily, still feeling some apprehension. His phone buzzes and he glances at it to read a text message. “Ah, good. He’s on his way. Maybe he can give me some input on this. He’s got a great ear for these kind of things.”

“Ouch, bro,” Jon feigns offense as he cleans up the track layers some more.

Namjoon turns apologetic immediately. “Sorry, I didn’t mean it like that. It’s just that we’ve been at this for a few weeks and I just want to get a different perspective?”

A minute later, the door to his studio opens, and in comes Yoongi.

"Hey, you got here fast!" Namjoon greets Yoongi. Yoongi nods in acknowledgment. "I was already on this floor when you texted, so I thought I'd swing by before my next appointment. What's up?"

Namjoon motions for Jon to play the track for Yoongi. He observes his teammate and frequent co-producer tilt his head to the side and close his eyes. He always does this when he wants to analyze the track by ear.

Once the track ends, Namjoon anticipates his comments.

“Can you try it without the cymbals in the bridge and drop the echo off the doubling track?”

Jon nods, clicks on a few functions, and plays the song according to Yoongi's notes. Hearing the track with the new modifications, Yoongi and Namjoon make eye contact. They both nod their heads enthusiastically to the beat. No other words are exchanged, but the smiles on their faces and the subsequent high-five provide enough reassurance.

******

“Thanks for the input, hyung. I appreciate it.” Namjoon walks Yoongi out of his studio.

“It’s nothing! We’re still a team even though we’re all off doing our own stuff at the moment.”

Namjoon silently agrees, then raises a hand to rub his eyes while trying to suppress a yawn. They pause for a moment, standing in front of each other in the quiet hallway.

“Tired?”

"I've accepted my fate of being tired forever," Namjoon laughs wryly, rubbing the back of his neck. "I don't know why I assumed that completing my album would bring me some relief and relaxation.”

"Ah, it'll pass." To a stranger, his deadpan tone might sound insincere, but Namjoon knows that he means it in a consoling manner. "Are you excited about your launch party?”

“Yeah, I am. And I’m taking YN with me!” There was a sense of pride and comfort in the way he said it.

Yoongi’s eyebrows shoot upward. “Are you?”

“You think it’s a bad idea?”

Yoongi shakes his head and smiles. “Not in the least bit. Have you told PD-nim?”

Namjoon nods. “He was cool with it. She’ll be there as my guest but we agreed that her presence there isn’t an ‘announcement’ or anything like that. Still, I’m confident that we’ll be safe since she and I will be interacting out in the open instead of sneaking around.”

It was simple logic. Photos weren’t worth much to tabloids if they were professionally taken with the subject’s consent.

Yoongi laughs at the rationale but he can’t deny that his friend makes a good point. “I’m glad you’ve got something worked out. And she’s okay with all that?”

Namjoon’s head tilts slightly and his shoulders shrug. “Apprehensive at first but I let her know that the front office was supportive so that helped convince her and made her feel safe about going.”

Yoongi’s eyebrows rose and his lips twitch upon hearing his last comment but he caught himself and managed to force a smile. “Good. That’s…good. I’m really glad to hear that.” It wasn’t fair to project his personal grievances with management toward his friend.

Realizing his misstep, his excitement is replaced with a pang of guilt. “Shit, I’m sorry, hyung,” he grimaces. “I didn’t mean to come off insensitive, especially after what happened to–”

Yoongi cuts him off. “Nah, don’t feel guilty about it. I’m happy that you’re happy. I’m glad that you have someone who supports you and that you’ve found ways to compromise.” His sober expression makes Namjoon’s face falter.

It hasn’t been long since Yoongi and his partner split up. It was a few weeks before the hiatus announcement but by then, they’d had enough and decided to move onto separate ways.

“I’m really sorry that you couldn’t figure out a middle ground between the label and–”

Yoongi waves his hand in mid-air to stop Namjoon from bringing up something that is still fresh in his mind. There was a time and place to be vulnerable but this moment wasn’t it. “S’okay. We tried…for a long time…” He sighs and finishes with a shrug, effectively dropping the subject.

“Anyway, speaking of PD-nim, what did you think of last week’s contract meeting?” Yoongi asks to shift the focus away from him. “Have you thought about what you wanted to do for the next year?”

Namjoon exhales and confidently answers, “Yep. I’m taking the option for the longer hiatus.”

A few weeks ago, the label held a meeting with all team members, offering different paths for their careers. They could either continue pursuing solo activities or 'take a break' by having a more flexible schedule and the option to choose the projects they want to participate in.

“Wow. Really? Even with all of the offers to collaborate?” Yoongi bulges his eyes out at his friend knowingly.

Two years ago, Namjoon would have been tripping over his feet if he ever got a call from his idols for a dream collaboration. Now that the group has hit record-breaking fame in the world stage, each member’s time was in high demand.

“I did that one song last summer with my idol and crossed that off my bucket list. I don’t need to be greedy by entertaining every request,” he laughs. “It’s also an opportunity for me to take a break and find a new sound.”

Although Namjoon's new album has not been released yet, Yoongi does not argue because he understands that as an artist, one needs to constantly evolve. As soon as you finish one project, you should already be in the midst of planning the next one.

“That’s fair,” Yoongi concedes. “Was this decision influenced by a certain someone?”

“Yes and no,” Namjoon admits. “She’s a factor but it's my own decision. It’s what’s best for me…for us. I owe it to her.”

“Is she collecting a debt?”

Namjoon laughs. “No, no. She didn’t say that. In fact, I haven’t told her that we had that meeting. All I know is that I made a commitment to her and I plan on sticking to it. Walk the walk, you know?”

“I guess it’s good that she didn’t talk you into it. The last thing you want is to make hasty, emotional decisions then regret them later.”

“Hyung, I swear I’m not being hasty or emotional about this.”

“Alright,” Yoongi relents. “Just saying, I’d hate for you to feel regret or resentment if things don’t pan out.”

The truth was, Namjoon had that thought buried in the far corner of his mind, but he wouldn't let it deter him. He believed that fate brought the two of you back together and he was determined to do everything he could to make the best out of this second chance. Things will work out this time.

They have to.

You're in a rush to send out two more emails before the holiday weekend. These emails are crucial for sealing the deals for two of your clients. One has received interest from a film production company that wants to buy the rights to their novel and turn it into a movie. The other client is preparing for wider distribution after self-publishing the first edition of their book.

Your phone starts to buzz after you send off one email.

“Hey, I just got here. Are you sure you don’t want me to pick you up?” Namjoon walks through your front door then pockets his keys, which include a copy of your house keys. It was a huge step for you and your relationship.

He was bringing food from the restaurant that you two were supposed to have dinner at. But after a client call ran long and a few other last-minute tasks piled up, you asked if you could reschedule. Instead, he was insistent and completely fine with the idea of spending the night in.

“I’m sure. I drove so I have to bring my car home anyway.”

“But you could leave it at the garage and I can have my manager pick it up tomorrow.”

You laugh at his offer. He just really wanted you home. “Why don’t you let the man enjoy a decent weekend off, for once?”

“Alright,” he relents. “I’ll be here waiting. I’ve got wine chilling in the fridge and pasta and chicken, just like you asked.”

You acknowledge all the effort he’s putting in. He’s been sleep-deprived the entire week but he was still determined to spend time with you. Still, you take the opportunity to tease him. “You know that kind of behavior will get you laid.”

“Look, I don’t really care if anything happens tonight,” he says simply. “I only wanted to bring dinner and be with you.”

“Mm-hm,” you hum in amusement. “What kind of pasta did you get?” You ask him as a test.

He answers with your favorite. It’s been so long and yet he still knew. “That’s it! I’m getting on my knees as soon as I walk through the door!”

A low laugh escapes him. “Not if I get you on your back first.”

His response makes you want to log off this second and rush home to him. 

Unfortunately, even if you leave the office, you still need to continue working from home. However, you would rather put 100% of your focus on him. So, you decide to stay until you finish everything.

Two hours later, you walk through the door. The room is dark and quiet, with the only light coming from the television. Namjoon is snoring in the living room.

He stirs when you brush his hair back to kiss his forehead from behind the couch.

"Hi," he says, his lips curving into a languid smile as he blinks his eyes open.

"Sorry, I'm late."

"It's cool." He stretches his arms and sits up. "Have you eaten?"

"No. Have you?" You ask him.

He shakes his head as well. "I'll heat up the food in the oven—"

"No, let’s go to bed so you can go back to sleep," you suggest. It's been a long day and fatigue is setting in. However, Namjoon gets up from the couch, shakes his head adamantly, and laughs. "You know that I know that there's no way you'll have a good night's sleep while hungry."

Just before you protest, your stomach growls, betraying you. He knows you well enough. With a snort, he takes your hand and guides you to the kitchen.

*******

After dinner and a quick shower for you, you get a second wind and decide to watch some late-night TV. It was a weekend, and Namjoon didn't have to be at the office until late the next evening.

He gazes at the week-old gardenia arrangement that he brought over when you first moved in and wonders aloud, "I'll never understand why you keep holding onto these until they're completely dead. Just throw them away and I'll get you fresh flowers!"

"I like them when they’re in this in-between stage of brown and white. They have a stronger scent and I love it," you explain.

"Yeah, but the aesthetic is—" He clicks his teeth in distaste.

"Forget about the aesthetic! I think it smells romantic," you say confidently.

At first, he furrows his brows at your strange remark. But instead of arguing, he’s endeared. He shakes his head and chuckles, returning his attention to the TV.

You and Namjoon are on the couch, watching old reruns of a show that you've seen many times before. Despite the outdated punchlines, you still find them funny years later. You're sitting sideways while your legs, covered by a throw blanket, rest comfortably on his lap. Instead of watching the show with him, your gaze is fixed on his profile. At the sound of a joke you both had heard before, he still lets out a guffaw, the corners of his eyes crinkling in amusement as if hearing it for the very first time. His laughter makes your heart swell so much that it feels as if you could float away.

At that moment, as his laughs subside and the scent of wilted gardenias fills the room, you utter, "I love you." You can feel your heart pounding in your chest.

He slowly turns his head to face you, his eyes searching yours. After a few beats that feel like an eternity, he says, "Say that again."

Suddenly feeling shy, you giggle like a schoolgirl and attempt to hide under your blanket, but he pulls it off, revealing your flushed cheeks.

"Please say it again," he says, grinning and patiently waiting.

You take a deep breath, savoring the moment. You purse your lips for a few seconds, then smile back at him. "I love you," you say softly, but with conviction.

He throws his head back dramatically, clutching his chest as if he's been shot, before collapsing onto the bed with a theatrical flourish.

Giggling at his antics, you playfully shove his side and tell him, "Stop being so dramatic!"

"I'm not being dramatic! I'm in love," he declares with a sigh.

You’re mildly irritated by his response. “You know, if you’re just going to joke about this—”

Just as you turn serious, he does the same. “I would never joke. Not when it comes to you.”

This was a huge step for both of you and it was the first time you’d actually said the words to each other. Years ago, he used to say that labels and verbal declarations of feelings were ‘superficial’. Anybody can say ‘I love you’ but never really grasp the full weight of it. He was all about ‘showing’ not ‘telling.’

The old you thought that made a lot of sense. It sounded logical. And because you were actually in love with him then, you believed it.

You swallow the lump in your throat. "I want you to know that this is still scary for me. This isn’t like when we were sleeping around at the dorms or hotels. The stakes are higher now."

He turns his body toward you. He cradles your legs with one arm and circles the other around your waist to pull you closer.

“I really fucked things up by not telling you how I felt and ignoring your needs. I was selfish and a coward.”

You shake your head gently at how he was placing all the blame on himself. “We were young and had a lot of growing up to do. Both of us needed that time apart.”

He looks at you with a mix of regret and determination in his eyes. "I recognize that now," he says softly. "And I want to do better and be better for you. Things will be different this time."

His words fill you with hope, and you feel your heart fill with warmth as you realize that he is committed to making things work between you.

The thought of it also turns you on wildly. You lean in and press your lips to his. “Take me to bed,” you whisper.

He pulls back slightly and stares into your eyes. “I’m not saying these things just to get it in,” he chuckles. “Like I said, we don’t have to do anything you don’t want—”

“I know,” you interrupt gently before your lips curve into a smile. “Let me worry about what I want. And what I want, is for us to go to bed.”

Nodding, he switches the TV off and you both walk upstairs into your bedroom.

******

You walk into the room, with him following closely behind. As you turn to face him, he stops in his tracks, cautiously anticipating your next move.

You reach up and cup his face in your hands. He closes his eyes, reveling in your touch. Tilting your chin up, he meets halfway, and seals his mouth to yours. The kiss starts soft and sweet, but quickly builds up to a fever pitch.

Desire surges through you, and he matches your fervor. His fingers grip the back of your neck, deepening the kiss. He groans against your lips, making those low, sexy sounds that you turn you on. Your hands explore his chest, feeling every inch of him. Just as you're about to lose control, he breaks the kiss.

He spins you around, your back pressed against him, caging you while his hand roams all around your front.  You threw your head back in a low moan as he nipped at your neck, grinding his hard cock between your ass cheeks.

He wraps his arms around you and nuzzles your neck. His heavy breaths send shivers down your spine.

“How did I get so lucky?” he whispers as his teeth graze your earlobe.

"I wouldn't call it luck," you murmur breathlessly, shifting your head to give him better access to your throat. "...More like a well-deserved outcome," you finish. He runs his nose down the slope of your neck, and you feel him smile against it.

"I'm really trying to control myself," he sighs. "But I'd be lying if I said I haven't spent a lot of time fantasizing about how this evening would go."

You release a pained groan, squirming as he lazily sucks on your neck. "Tell me," you say.

He pauses his ministrations, giving you a chance to break away and turn to face him.

“Tell me about your fantasies,” you say to him.

Namjoon teasingly swipes his tongue between his lips and leans forward. “I can tell you and show you.”

In anticipation, your chest rises as you inhale sharply and bite your lower lip. It was all the consent he needed.

"First of all, you're wearing too many clothes," he smirks.

You reach for the hem of your sleep shirt, intending to pull it off, but he stops you. He gently wags his finger and tuts. "In my fantasy, I do all the work."

You release the material and relinquish control to him. Wrapping his arms around you, he repeats your earlier action and pulls your shirt up. You lift your arms above your head, allowing him to easily slip it off you. As he leans in, you anticipate a kiss, but he surprises you by tossing you over his shoulder.

He walks across the room, and his hand reaches down to tug on your panties, pulling them below the curve of your ass. You yelp as he spanks you hard enough to sting.

He sits you down on the mattress and crouches in front of you. As he pulls your panties past your bare feet, he asks, “Are you good, baby?”

“Yeah.” You smile and touch his cheek. The moment of tenderness makes your heartbeat stutter as if he wasn’t just about to ravish you seconds later.

He nods and flashes a dimple before he picks up where he left off.

He plants a soft kiss on your inner thigh. “Are you ready for me?”

You arch an eyebrow at him in response. “The better question is, are you ready for me?”

You let out another squeal when Namjoon jerks your hips to the very edge of the bed with your legs on either side of him, exposing your center to his gaze.

“You’re going to be sorry you said that.”

You pushed at his shoulder, challenging him. “Teach me a lesson, then.”

He presses your thighs wide with gentle hands, his thumb stroking over your clit, pleasure pulsing through you.

He lowers his voice to a dangerously low tone. “You know, I’m trying to set the pace here but you’re no help.” He gets some revenge when he pulls his shirt over his head.

“You know I can take it,” you say as evenly as possible while trying not to drool over the sight of his bare chest.

“I know you can,” he murmurs. “But I want this to last a while.” Your stomach tightens when he lowers his head. As soon as his tongue licks through your folds, you grasp desperately at the sheets beneath you and fall back onto the mattress. He parts you with his fingers, teasing your sensitive flesh while you keen and writhe in pleasure.

“I’ve imagined this so many different ways,” he purred, teasing your clit with the tip of his tongue. Your hips buck but he holds you firmly down.

“On my bed.” He sucks. “In my studio.” And licks.

“In the back room of the restaurant that I took you to on our first date after we had the no-sex conversation.”

“God. Namjoon,” You moan pathetically, dizzy at the sight of him savoring you.

“I imagine pinning you down,” he went on roughly, “Giving it to you all night…your nipples swollen from me sucking on them. The room filled with all those sexy sounds you do…when I make you cum over and over…” He gives your clit one long suction.

You whimper, biting your lip as he flutters his tongue. He has one of your legs hooked over his bare shoulder. The heat from his skin burns the flesh behind your knee.

“Yes, I want all that,” Your hands roam over your breasts, pinching at your aching nipples for relief.

He grins mischievously. “I know.” He continues to suck on your bundle of nerves, teasing you relentlessly as your climax builds up further. With his lips still wrapped around your clit, he slides two fingers into your soaked opening, curling them upward to massage your inner walls.

You gasp sharply at the assault when he pumps into you. Hips moving of their own volition, grinding into his greedy mouth.

You climax with a breathless cry, your legs shaking with the rush of release after months of pent-up tension between you.

You were still coming down from your high when his body loomed over you. He shoves his bottoms down just enough to free his cock.

You watch as he carefully slips a condom down his length. Wanting to feel him in your hands, you attempt to reach for it, but he catches you by your wrist. He brings your hand to his lips and kisses the inside before pinning your hands above your head.

His eyes studies your face, his lips still glistening from your orgasm, his chest heaving. You blink up at him in wonder and ask yourself, 'how did you get so lucky'?

“I love you,” he pants.

“I love you,” you reply before he slides his length between your folds. He pushes in, parting the slick opening.

He buries his face in your throat with a groan, then surges inside you. He gasps your name, slowly grinding his hips against you, trying to get deeper.

His hips work in a steady rhythm. The feel of him inside you, stretching you, drives you crazy. You shift and wrap your legs around him for leverage and meet his thrusts.

His lips brushed against your temple. “Fuck, you feel so good. I don’t think I can last much longer…but I…I want to—“

He sounded apologetic, but he didn’t need to. Your throat tightens. “I don’t care. I’m not going anywhere. Don’t stop!”

He pulls out, lifts your ass, then thrusts deeply.  You moan helplessly, your cunt squeezing him greedily. “Fuck yes…” you hiss. “Harder. Fuck me harder.”

He strokes into you and you writhe under him, your thighs grasping his hips. Digging his knees in, he gives you what you begged for and fucks relentlessly into you. His cock plunges deeply, over and over, breathing naughty fantasies into your ear and pushing you closer to another climax.

Your core tenses and your clit throbs with every slam of his hips against yours. He pounds into you, every muscle in his body flexing.

“I’m gonna cum so hard for you,” he strains, sweat sliding down his temple.

The promise of him filling you sets you off, and before you know it, you come undone for him again, your pussy spasming furiously. The obscene sounds of hot, sweaty fucking fills your bedroom while he chases his own climax.

He slows down his movements deliberately, and with one final stroke, you feel him spurting inside of you. Rough sounds of satisfaction rumble from his chest and resonate against your sweat-slicked skin.

He lies there for a moment, his heartbeat gradually slowing to a steady rhythm. When he lifts his head, his fingers run through your hair.

Namjoon cradles your face in his hands and kisses you. “Thank you.”

“What are you thanking me for? You did all the work,” you laugh.

His slow smile showed pure satisfaction. “I’m only grateful for the privilege.”

You roll your eyes playfully. “Stop,” you giggle. “You’re just saying that because you’re horny.”

“Nah, I’m love-drunk,” he grins lazily before planting another kiss on your lips. You’re so endeared…as if you couldn’t love him anymore.

He flops on the bed beside you, and you rest a hand on his chest, patting it softly. "By the way, top-tier fantasy," you remark.

Turning to face you, his smile widens and he mischievously squints at you. “Oh, you thought that was it?” He laughs. “We haven’t even gotten through the half of it!”

The thought of being the recipient of Namjoon’s insatiable desire for you sends a flutter of excitement through your body.

******

You are jolted awake by a dream you had. In it, you were falling into a bottomless pit.

Your heart races as you quickly turn your head to the other side of the bed, where Namjoon is sleeping soundly.

You’d been at each other for at least two hours before both of you passed out from exhaustion and fell asleep.

You carefully slide out of bed, trying not to wake him, and make your way to the bathroom.

When you reenter the bedroom, the scene before you takes your breath away. Namjoon is sprawled across your bed, with one arm tossed over his head and the other draped across his chest. When you were shopping for a mattress, it seemed excessive to get one so huge. However, now that you see his feet resting comfortably on the bed instead of dangling off it, it doesn't seem like such a bad investment after all.

God, he was breathtaking. When he was onstage, he exuded an unstoppable force, trained to be the object of many people’s fantasies. And yet, you were the only one who could bring him to his knees.

He shifts as you climb onto the bed. He blinks up at you.

“Hey, come here.” He sounds drowsy, but you find it incredibly sexy.

“I love you,” you say as you lower yourself into his outstretched arms. His warm skin is perfect for snuggling. Seeing him like this makes you want to be close to him, but in a different way.

He kisses you deeply, but you pull away just in time to regain control. “I'm not done with you,” he warns. Despite already going three rounds (that you can recall), he shamelessly craves more. Admittedly, so do you.

You gently place your pointer finger on his lips and shake your head. "It's my turn."

He raises an eyebrow in curiosity.

“We spent all night living out your fantasies but didn’t even get to mine. Not fair–that’s not how this relationship is supposed to work,” you pout.

“I’m sorry,” he says sweetly, brushing your cheek with his finger. “What do you want, my love?”

You wrap your legs around his thigh and rub against it, letting him feel that you are already wet for him. The friction makes you moan, as does the promise of being naughty.

You kiss him, press your body against him. “Two things.”

His finger grazes your forehead. “Anything.”

“One, I want to taste you,” you whisper then glance downward at his crotch.

His teeth sink into his bottom lip, already into it. “And the second thing?”

This is when you try to hold back your excitement. “You have to be very, very still.”

He’s suddenly puzzled. “Huh?”

“I want you to keep your hands to yourself while I work on you,” you state.

He groans in frustration. “You know that’s impossible–”

“Just trust me!”

Eventually, he acquiesces. “Alright. How do you want me?”

You purse your lips and motion for him to sit up against the headboard, and he obliges. You lift his arms and direct him to hold onto the gaps in the frame.

Next, you grab hold of his boxers' waistband and he lifts his hips to assist you. As you pull them past his feet, you ask, "Are you good, baby?"

“Yes,” he answers with a gentle smirk.

You spread his thighs apart, but before you position yourself between them, you lean forward to give him a kiss. He instinctively embraces you, with one hand pushing into your hair and the other resting on the small of your back, urging you to come closer.

Clearing your throat, you flick your eyes to his hands, giving him a warning look. He smiles, suddenly remembering one of your stipulations, and lets his hands fall to his sides.

You press a light kiss to his lips before moving your mouth across his cheek, down to his throat. Your tongue darts out to lick his golden skin before latching on, causing him to let out a pained growl. You graze him with your teeth, leaving a mark. Rough sounds of pleasure vibrate against your lips.

Pulling back, you admire the bright red bruise you left and giggle triumphantly at your handiwork. “Mine.”

"Yours," he vows with hooded eyes.

"Good answer." Pleased, you continue to move lower, finding and teasing his nipples. You lick over them, around them, then blow. Namjoon hisses and growls at the shot of cool air against his sensitized skin. He resists the temptation to roll you onto your back and pin you to the mattress, but instead, he grips the headboard tighter, his knuckles turning white.

As you make your way down his torso, you feel his entire body tighten with anticipation. When your tongue rims his belly button, his hips jerk up.

If he only knew just how excited you were to see him in this state. You want to reward him for having this much obedience and self-control.

With your hands on his inner thighs, you urge him to spread open wider, giving you room to settle comfortably. Dipping your head, your lips part, and you give his cock a precursory lick.

“Fuuucking…hell…” he growls.

It sends another wave of arousal through you. Wrapping your lips around him, you give him back what he gave you last night. Using only your mouth, you worship him, sucking gently and caressing him with your tongue.

He mutters a mix of curses and praises, feeling both lost and dizzy with pleasure.

You pause for a moment and tease him. “You like that?”

He sits up on his elbows, and looks at you wryly. “No, I hate every second it!”

You laugh then wrap your lips around his tip and hum.

“Aaaahh…fuck me. What the fuck,” he groans at the vibration. You see his eyes roll to the back of his head. “Deeper, please,” he begs.

Since he asked so nicely, you oblige and take him in completely until the tip reaches the back of your throat.

He cries out, his back arching as if he wants to pull away, but you hold onto him with your lips and hands, cupping and massaging, encouraging him to reach the peak of pleasure.

“Fuck…fuck…” he chokes out, fighting every urge to wrap his hand around your nape to control the pace. He knows you’re enjoying this too much and the thought of it sends him into a frenzy. His thighs ached with strain, muscles hardening by the force it took to restrain himself.

You feel his balls tighten and you know he’s close. Hollowing your cheeks, you bob your head at an even pace, swirling your tongue around his length simultaneously.

“Ahh, baby, I’m gonna cum…fuck…”

In the same moment that you pull off, he grunts and spurts right at your chest. You sit up and lean back on your heels, pumping him with your fist to prolong and intensify the sensation. You can feel the contractions against your fingertips, pulsing from his flesh as he lets out a drawn-out groan.

When his body calms down, you release him and move to lay by his side.

After a few beats, he croaks out, "Am I allowed to touch you now?"

With a playful giggle, you give him permission. Finally, his heavy arm shifts, blindly searching to pull you closer. You snuggle into his embrace, feeling his heartbeat gradually steadying against yours as he plants a kiss on the top of your head. Both of you collapse in a tired, satisfied heap, but you loved it.

And you loved him.

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Thank you so much for reading!

If you loved it, please comment, reblog, or send me feedback! 📩. I love hearing from readers! If you didn’t like it so much, I would still like to hear about it. Help me become a better writer! 💜

Tagging: @internetjunkdrawer @roaminginthenights @serendididy @majamarantha @mrskiminami @joonschocochip @yoongukie-ff @midnightagust

[gav1whore9]

hi i lovee your worrkk!!! can u do reader and gavi having sex for the first time ? thank you <3

Yes ofc I can sorry that you waited so long

Warning: smut

Again if you don’t like smut and don’t feel comfortable with reading it just scroll please

Enjoy 💕🧚🏼‍♂️

Gavi and I are starting to get pretty far in our relationship, he has agreed to not rush things. His teammates asked why we haven't fucked yet. Well, the truth is I'm still a virgin. I want to do it with Gavi but I'm just afraid. Currently, Gavi and I were watching a movie In his room and a sex scene has come on.

I was leaning on gavi until I felt something poking me, I soon realized he was hard. I thought maybe this was a good moment to do it. I started to move around him. "Y/n can you stay still" he groans. I turn towards him and start kissing his neck. "Y/n what are you doing?" He asks . "I'm ready," I say in his ear. "Are you sure baby?" Gavi ask’s.

"Mhm," I hum in response. He soon grabs me and switches positions so now he hovers over me. I take my shirt off leaving me in my bra. He quickly smashes his lips on mine shoving his tongue in my mouth. I moan into the kiss. He starts moving down my neck for sure leaving hickeys.

Gavi unclips my bra tossing it somewhere in the room. He looks at them. "So fucking beautiful," he says smiling. He takes off his sweatpants leaving him only in his boxers since he was already shirtless. He kisses my chest slowly going down. He reaches to the waistband of my shorts sliding them off doing the same thing he did with my bra.

He kisses my inner thighs right by where I need him most. He slowly slides my panties off. He kisses my clit. "Gavi" I moan. "So wet for me" he dirty talks. I moan in response. He starts licking my pussy. "Mm, so fucking good," he says looking up at me. I moan louder than before. As he was licking my pussy he thrusts his tongue in me.

"Oh, my-gavi" I moan. I start feeling my orgasm approaching. "Gavi! I'm going to" I get cut off by a moan. "I know hermosa cum all over my tongue," he speaks up. Gavis tongue hits a spot, as I cum all in his mouth. "Mmm," he says licking what didn't make it in his mouth.

Gavis head pops up and he hovers over me, shoving his tongue in my mouth making me taste myself. "You taste so good, hermosa," gavi tells me. "Ready?" Gavi says as he takes his boxers off. I nod as I see his dick spring out hitting his abdomen. "I need to hear u say it, baby," he tells me. "Yes, gavi I want you," I say.

He comes up to me and pecks my lips, "ill be gentle ok? If you want me to stop say so" "I love you, gavi ," I tell him. "I love you too hermosa" He smiles. He leans over the nightstand drawer to grab a condom, but I stop him. "No, I want to feel all of you, but you have to pull out," I say looking at him in the eyes.

"Okay I will baby, don't worry," he says licking his lips. I widened my eyes as I took a good look at his dick and it was huge, I could see veins popping out. "Uhm-are you sure it'll fit?" I say worried. "Shh baby relax it's okay, and if it's not, tell me I'll stop," he says chuckling in the beginning. He strokes his dick a couple time before slowly putting it in.

I hiss in pain. He looks at me making sure I still want this. "Keep going" I tell him. He nods and slowly enters me fully. "Ow. Fuck-" I whimper. "Shit. Baby, I'm sorry, are you okay baby I'm sorry I hurt you" gavi apologizes quickly. "It's okay it just hurt that one time, I'm fine" I slightly smile at him. He nods starting to move his hips slowly.

The pain soon fades and I feel pleasure. "Gavi go faster" I say. He looks at me worried. "Fuck me, gavi Just fuck me" I whine. He nods. Gavi picks up his pace, causing me to moan. "Yea? You like me fucking you?" Gavi dirty talks me, which turns me on even more. "Mm, y-yea!" I moan in pleasure.

He moves one of his hands from my hip to my clit drawing circles. "shit, baby u feel so fucking good" he groans. "Mm! I moan loud. He started moving his hips faster. He leans down sucking on my breasts. "Uh! Gavi" I cry in pleasure. He started fucking me harder. "Gavi , I- I'm close!" I clench around his cock. "Oh fuck!" He moans

"Cmon cum all around my dick baby" he praises. With that, I'm cumming all around him. "Mm..good girl," he tells me. His thrusts become sloppier. "Fuck! He moans. Pulling out, he strokes his dick. His cum landed all on my chest and stomach. "Ah, fuck" he says out of breath.

He lays next to me, both of us catching our breath. gavi grabs a tissue from his nightstand cleaning the cum off my chest and stomach. He pulls me close to him, pulling the covers over our naked bodies. "You did so good hermosa," gavi tells me. "I love you" I smile looking up at him.

"I love you too Bonita " he replies, pecking my lips. I soon drift off to sleep in his arms. "Goodnight my love" gavi whispers, before kissing my head and drifting to sleep as well