#daddy why did you eat my fries

[burythecarnival]

i am sorry for being weird, it will absolutely fucking happen again 👻

[lemongrablothbrok]

[hellhoundlair]

venting sorry. i get emotional thinking of the media both me and my dad loved growing up and the father daughter bonds that were the highlights of those movies and tv shows to him and i feel like i failed

[ghostcat-deadbastard]

something i saw on 4chan that yall would like

[bucks-babe]

More to Love

Pairing: Bucky x f!reader

Summary: Bucky wants to take care of you in every sense of the term; so what if you gain a bit of extra fat because of it?

Word Count: 3.7k

Warnings: Slight angst, mentions of past relationships, kind of told in flashbacks, shitty ex boyfriend who forces reader to lose weight (not Bucky), Bucky is so in love it hurts, Bucky takes care of his woman, body insecurity, weight gain because of a healthy relationship, smut, CMNF (only for a little bit), looking in the mirror while on Bucky’s lap (yes, that needs a warning), crying during sex, daddy kink, soft!dom Bucky, so much fluff, no use of Y/N, Bucky calls reader love, p in v, unprotected sex (don’t do that), implied creampie, Bucky loves his girl’s tummy, emotions.

A/N: This is NOT fetishizing weight gain, nor unhealthy habits. Bucky is not forcing the reader to gain weight to make her attractive to him; he loves his girl at any weight and just wants to take care of her. I made this fic because I want to feel like the parts of my body that I’m insecure about can still be desirable. Also this turned out way softer than the drabble, but there is still smut going on. Thank you to the amazing @buckys-wintersoldier for beta reading; however, any and all mistakes are my own.

Ever since you started dating Bucky, you have noticed how different he is compared to your previous partners. Not just because he is a 6 foot something brick house, but also in the way he treats you. You’ve never experienced such raw and untamed love directed solely at you, or the way his eyes seem to bore into your soul, memorizing every quirk and tick you possess. It’s almost overwhelming how much he loves you.

Never before have you felt so comfortable in a relationship. Previous boyfriends never really felt like boyfriends, rather personal trainers. Maybe you were bad at picking them out, but your last partner was a gym rat, constantly obsessing over what he was eating and how many hours he put into the gym that week. The obsession he had for the gym followed through into your relationship. If you wanted to spend time with him, it had to be at the gym. 

He would construct fitness plans for you, saying that the softness of your stomach needed to go to make him happy, and you let him. You don’t know why you let him weasel his way into your head, but he did. Eventually, it went past the gym, and he would only allow you to go to a certain restaurant to eat because the others had way too many unhealthy options, side-eyeing you for ordering a side of fries instead of a salad. Cooking at home became a battle since you weren’t supposed to eat anything fatty or fried, nothing you did was ever good enough for him. 

Over the course of that relationship you did end up losing the extra weight you had, but also weight that you didn’t need to lose, and soon you were “too skinny” and “didn’t have enough meat on your bones for him.” He left you soon after - over text. It was something along the lines of, “I wanted to see if I could make you attractive, but you don’t look good, fat or skinny.” It crushed you. The man that you thought you were in love with, and who loved you, broke your heart. You never gained the weight back, hoping against hope that he could come back and realize he was wrong about you. He never did.

It took you a long time to get over that piece of shit, but what he said about your body never left - you were still terrified to gain weight. But then you met Bucky, and for a while you forgot about that asshole. You had the sweetest, sexiest, kindest man that you were able to call yours, so why would you even think about your past?  It started so slow you didn’t even notice until it was too late. 

You groaned, stretching out in bed, arm reaching out for your boyfriend, only to find his side of the bed cold and empty. Squinting, you try to open your eyes, sunlight forcing them to close. After a few tries, you get them open and look at the time - 7:19. Bucky must be back from his morning run. Searching the floor for his henley, you walk into the kitchen to find Bucky cutting up your favorite fruit in a bowl, shirtless. The both of you know that he can hear you walk up to him, hell he probably heard you the moment you woke up, but he humors you when you wrap your arms around his waist, resting your head on his shoulder as he jumps in surprise.

“What’cha doing, honey,” you murmur into his back, peppering it with kisses.

“Makin’ something to eat after runnin’ with Steve all mornin’. Hope I didn’t wake ya up, Love.” You feel the shiver that shoots up his spine at your touch.

“No, I was just about to get up anyway, just so happens that I woke up to this sight.” 

Bucky turns only his head to look down at you, a crooked smile adorning his scruffy face, “And you can wake up to it every day. Now how about you go sit your pretty little ass down on the couch and get our show ready? I’ll be there in a minute.”

You place a chaste kiss to his cheek before slapping his ass on the way out earning a glare from him. Bucky knows that you don’t eat in the morning but he has devised a plan because you not eating in the morning will follow to you only eating at dinner tonight. 

You hear his heavy foot fall as you’re getting comfy on the couch only for him to pick you up and rest his back against the arm of the couch, setting you down in his lap, his chest to your back. He ignores your squeals and settles down. 

While you are watching your show, Bucky is watching you, and before you know it, a piece of pineapple is passing your lips. Chewing happily, you don’t even notice that Bucky has you eating until the deep rumble of ‘good girl’ is whispered in your ear. A deep throb settles in your core as you continue to eat each piece he puts in your mouth, desperate to hear his praise again and again.

That was how it started, Bucky feeding you in the mornings. But it slowly progressed from that. He was always making sure that you’ve eaten your three meals a day, no if, ands or buts. You were an Avenger after all so of course you needed to eat to stay healthy with all the missions and training you go through. Bucky noticed the pudge on your belly coming back way before you did.

“Love, what is this movie even about? I’m so confused.” The smile in his voice was impossible to miss. With him against the headboard and your back resting against his chest, you couldn’t see his face. Whatever explanation you gave, Bucky didn’t hear a word of it. As you repositioned in his lap, you sat up, just a bit, but his hands on your stomach felt it, the small bit of fat soft and warm in his hands. 

To this day you have no idea why Bucky stripped off both of your clothes and pounded you for hours, but he did, and that little bit of soft flesh made him go a little crazy.

During this time you didn’t even realize that you were gaining your weight back because for the first time since you met your last boyfriend, you had so much more energy. You didn’t need extra naps throughout the day, or feel dead tired after doing absolutely nothing. Now, your body had enough nutrients to function properly, the hump of your belly was there because you were healthy. You’ve had it all your life, nothing getting rid of it. To you it made you feel like you were fat, but to Bucky, oh, it showed him that you were a strong, healthy woman.

Everyday after training, you would boast to him about how much better you’ve been doing in training, claiming Natasha said so. Of course you have always been a very capable agent, but now that you had enough fuel to support the vigorous Avenger training, you’ve been doing better than ever, and Bucky couldn’t have been more proud; however, it all came to a head when you finally caught on to your weight gain.

Fresh out of the shower, you head over to your closet. It was no special occasion but Bucky being the perfect boyfriend that he is, wanted to take you out on a date, just because. After finding Bucky’s favorite pair of lingerie and putting them on, you huff. You don’t remember the bottoms feeling so tight. You passed it off however, thinking that maybe you did something to them in the wash.

But what you couldn’t ignore was how your favorite dress wasn’t fitting. It took way too much wiggling to get it past your hips and waist. What really set you off though, was that you couldn’t zip it. Already too tight on you before zipping, now you couldn’t get the damn thing to move more than an inch. Looking in the mirror you found the reason why the zipper refused to move. The small pocket of fat on your tummy that you thought you got rid of, was back, and larger than it ever was. 

Turning to the side, you saw just how much it was coming out. You could’ve sworn you were a few months pregnant. How could you have missed this? It took a while, but you got the dress off so you could investigate the fat on your stomach. Gasping, you tried to suck in, in the hope that it would disappear. It didn’t.

Tears sprung in your eyes. How could Bucky find this attractive? Why hasn’t he said anything about this? How could you let yourself go like this? All these horrible thoughts raced through your head, before you heard Bucky’s sweet voice through the door asking if you were ready.

All of those little moments lead you to where you are now, standing in front of your mirror crying, while Bucky patiently waits on the other side of the door, thinking all is right with the world, as yours is falling apart right before your eyes. Before you can hide yourself, Bucky opens the door. Immediately, you move to cover yourself up, disgusted with the shape of your body hoping that he doesn’t look at what you can’t cover. Bucky, however, looks directly into your eyes first, seeing the pain and tears.

In two steps he reaches you and his strong arms envelop you, hands running up and down your back. “Love, what’s wrong?” You only bury your face in his chest further. He walks back to the bed, pulling you in his lap as he sits. Your naked body pressed up against his fully clothed one. Bucky’s right palm slides down your back and he tries to squeeze your waist when you jerk away from him.

“No! Don’t touch me there!” Bucky feels his heart crack in his chest at your repulsion, not understanding why you don’t want him to touch your waist. He doesn’t let you leave his lap however, keeping you in place.

“Why, Love? What did I do?” 

“You didn’t do anything. Look at my stomach, Buck!” You bite back another sob when he does, confusion written all over his face, not understanding what you’re trying to convey. “It’s FAT!” You all but scream, failing at trying to escape when his arms pull you down once again.

“Love…” He gets cut off by another sob falling from your lips. Instead of trying to talk you down, Bucky brings your lips to his and keeps your head in place. The only movement is the wobble of your lower lip as you try to contain your sobs. 

A few minutes pass by before Bucky can’t stand it anymore, and he tilts your head and moves his lips. The kiss tastes of your tears but neither of you care. Clawing at his back, you try to get closer to him, wanting him to consume you. 

When his hands trail down your sides, you pull away. Strong arms spin you around, naked back to clothed chest. The warm palm of his right hand forces you to look at yourself in the mirror.

“Buc..”

“No, Love. Look at how fucking sexy you are.” With his right hand still holding your chin, his left trails down your body, stopping over the swell of your tummy. “So goddamn pretty, you know that?” He whispers in your ear, kissing down your neck, cock twitching under your ass.

He spreads his legs, forcing yours to open as well and he groans deep and long at the sight of your pussy. “God, Love, don’t you see how pretty you are, so soft and strong and all mine.” You try to pull away, the feeling of looking at yourself too much, but Bucky’s strong hands don’t let you move an inch. “Feel what you do to me? Feel how hard my cock is?”

 It’s too much, all of it. His praise, his touch, the sight of you. More tears well in your eyes and a pitiful whine leaves you. “Can’t, Bucky. I-I…” You have to close your eyes; you can't look at yourself any longer.

“Shhh, Love, you can, baby. Let Daddy take care of you. Let him show you how pretty you are. Open your eyes for Daddy.” At his request, you open your eyes, only to find his already on you. With tears still pouring from your eyes, Bucky wipes them away before laying you down on your back. 

If there was anyone who knew your limits better than yourself, it was Bucky. He knows that having you look at yourself right now would only do more harm than good, but showing you how much he loves you is a whole different story. Before laying down with you, Bucky takes his clothes off, needing to feel you against his bare skin. “I love you so fucking much, you know that? Never met a stronger,” Bucky plants a kiss on your cheek, “more beautiful,” another kiss, “smarter, sweeter, perfect woman in all my life.” 

With each kiss you can't tell if your erratic heart is slowing down or speeding up. This is such a foreign feeling for you, such unbridled love. Your head falls deeper into the pillows, Bucky’s scent enveloping all your senses, and you can’t think properly, your brain feeling fuzzy at the heedy stare Bucky is giving you.

“Daddy, I don’t, I can’t.” You don’t even know what you are trying to say, words no longer coming to you, but Bucky does, he always knows what you need.

“I know, Love. You just need Daddy to make you feel better, make you see how perfect you are for him.” Wrapping his arms around your back, he pulls you in closer to him, both of you gasping when his hard cock presses up against your naked core. Without thought, you grind your hips up, chasing the friction of his silky skin.

“All those tears, and all you wanted was Daddy’s cock, huh? Just want Daddy to fuck you dumb, turn that little brain off for you? Don’t worry, Love, Daddy’ll take care of you.” You wrap your arms and legs around him, pulling him closer, not leaving any space between the two of you, the hard planes of his abdomen pressed against the soft swell of yours.

Bucky doesn’t wait for you to beg, he can’t, not now, he needs to be inside of you, lining himself up, he pushes in, inch by perfect inch.”Shit, Love, you feel how perfect you are for me?”

Your lips part, letting a breathy whine out. Bucky doesn’t wait, slowly pulling out until only his plush tip is still inside, just to roll his hips back in. “Fuck. Look at Daddy, look at what you do to him.” It takes everything in your power to open your eyes and look at Bucky, the pleasure almost too much just after one thrust, but when you do, the sight that meets you is glorious. Face flushed, brows drawn together, lips parted, Bucky looked debauched. 

“Good girl, see that wasn’t so hard, was it?” Without warning, Bucky rolls the both of you over, with you on his lap. “Since you listen to Daddy so well, why don’t you ride his cock, let him look at his pretty girl bounce?” This snaps you out of your stupor, there’s no way you’re going to let him see your stomach jiggle.

“Bucky, I can’t, not this way. What about the other way?” You try to turn around, but his left hand grabs your waist while his right lands a harsh slap to your ass causing you to clench around him. 

“Ah, ah, ah, Daddy wants to see your face. You hear me?” Before you can complain again, Bucky thrusts his hips up, hard. You both moan, caught up in the sensation of his cock inside of you. Your hands fly to his chest, trying to balance yourself before you tumble off. Bucky doesn’t let up, thrust after thrust, pounding into your pussy.

“Oh, fuck! Daddy, right there, shit, please!” You don’t know what you’re begging for, just that you don’t want him to stop. The room is filled with the salacious sounds of your combined moans along with the clapclapclap of his thighs meeting your ass.

“So fucking good, Love, you know that? This pussy was made for me. Fucking perfect. Look at this little belly jiggling while I fuck you, shit, gonna make me blow my fucking load early. You’re. So. Fucking. Gorgeous.” Each word was punctuated by a vicious thrust. Ice pours down your spine, in the midst of pleasure you completely forgot why you didn’t want to do this position. He’s fucking staring right at your belly, hands gripping at your extra fat, just watching it ripple with each brutal thrust of his hips.

“Bucky stop, don’t look there, I don’t…” The rest of your sentence gets cut off when Bucky somehow fucks you even harder, effectively making your tummy move more. It’s too much: the feral look in his eyes, the perfect angle of his cock, and his beautiful moans. Despite your best efforts, you feel your orgasm building up. The little coil hidden under the small hump of your belly pulls tighter and tighter, and Bucky can feel it. He can feel your pussy pulsing around him so he moves his hands from your belly to your hips, grinding them against his coarse hairs with sharp thrust.

It pulls tighter and tighter until it snaps, dragging you under, blood roaring through your ears. You vaguely hear Bucky’s voice, “There you go, give it to Daddy. So good for me, soaking my cock. God, I fucking love you.” Bucky stops moving, giving you time to come down from your high. Still gasping for air, you fall down onto his sweaty chest, basking in the afterglow of your orgasm. You’re pulled out of your haze by Bucky. “Think you can give me one more? I think you can.”

He flips you over, back landing on the bed while he throws your legs over his shoulders, effectively causing your stomach to roll up, small pockets of fat pushing out. You whine, not wanting Bucky to see it, but he fucking loves this. Loves the bit of extra fat that has found its way under your chin, the soft flesh around your strong thighs, and the belly that fits perfectly in his hands. He loves it because it proves your healthy, that he’s feeding you well, well enough that you can train to your full potential, have the energy to do what you want to, not always be so tired you don’t want to do the things you love to do, that you aren’t afraid to eat what you want. That’s what he fucking loves, taking care of you and the way your body has changed has absolutely zero affect on his attraction to you. He will always think you are the most beautiful woman in the entire universe.

“Love, you don’t understand how fucking sexy you are, do you? Look at how well we fit together.” He cups the back of your head, making you look at your stomach as he enters you again, making your belly bulge more. “Do you see this, Love? See how pretty you are, and it's all for me, isn’t it?” The adoration in his eyes was almost too much, the swell in your chest threatening to burst as tears welled up in your eyes, feeling his love with every stroke. Bucky wasn’t fucking you anymore, he was making love to you, showing you how much you mean to him. 

Bucky takes one of your hands in his, lacing your fingers together, placing your hand on your tummy, feeling the bulge of his cock underneath your softness. “Daddy, feels so good. Fuck. Love you so much.” Bucky’s hips stutter when you say you love him, it has always been his weakness, the utter devotion and vulnerability that you allow him to experience is something he will never take for granted. Tears were streaming down your face, eyes probably red and puffy. Leaning forward, Bucky places his forehead on yours, eyes locked into yours.

“I know, Love. Can’t even begin to describe how much I love you.” Bucky can feel you getting closer again, pussy clenching around him, hands scrambling to grab onto something: his hair, back, hands, sheets, you can’t decide, the pleasure coursing through you too much. “Give it to me Love, make your Daddy proud and cum on his cock. Know you want to, just let go.” With two more thrusts, your eyes roll back, another orgasm rolling through you. This one shorter than the last, but no less intense. Bucky finds his release right after, burrowing his face into your neck, holding you to him, wanting to be as close as possible. 

It takes a few minutes, but the both of you calm down, hearts returning back to normal. You’re the first to speak, breaking the comfortable silence. “You knew I was gaining weight, didn’t you?” With his softening cock still buried deep inside you, Bucky lifts his head up a small smirk adorning his face. 

“Of course, but this little pudge,” he grabs your tummy and almost kneads it, “is because you’re healthy. You have so much more energy recently, and I fall deeper in love with you every single time I see how fucking happy you are now. You make me so proud to be able to call myself your boyfriend. You're so beautiful and I promise you that I will spend everyday for the rest of my life proving that to you.”

You don’t have any words to respond, so you just wrap your arms around him, breathing in his scent. And of course Bucky keeps true to his promise, and you believe him when he tells you that you are the most beautiful woman because he proves it to you everyday, in and outside of the bedroom.

[asdfghjklmals]

CRAVINGS✩༶‧˚

GENRE + T/W: sfw, fluff. mentions of sex and suggestiveness at the end. WORD COUNT: 2.9k words. TAGS: satoru gojo x fem!oc, dadtobe!gojo, pregnant!oc, established couple.

SYNOPSIS: oc gojo girlfriend’s pregnancy cravings keep her up at night and she ends up waking up satoru because of it. AUTHOR'S NOTE: this all started because i was craving fried chicken. i love writing for pregnant oc gojo girlfriend. she is just so funny. 🤭 consider this my late happy birthday fic for satoru. REMINDER: if you want to imagine yourself in oc gojo girlfriend's character descriptions instead, please do!

toss. turn. toss. turn.

you felt satoru’s arm twitch as you kept tossing and turning in his embrace. the half-asleep sorcerer opened his eyes as they adjusted to the dark to look at you.

“you okay?” he asked as he murmured into the crevice of your neck.

he brought your body closer to his chest, stroking your cheek gently. you sighed, embarrassed to tell him what was running through your mind. your emotions have been all over the place during your pregnancy, so you were feeling vulnerable. pregnancy hormones were no joke.

you pouted your lips at him, “if i tell you, will you promise not to laugh at me?”

“why would i laugh at you?” satoru scoffed in disbelief. he reassured your feelings like he always did, “i know it’s been getting harder for you to sleep since baby gojo is growing so big and strong in your belly… so, tell me what’s wrong sweetheart.”

you pursed your lips and hesitated before leaning towards satoru’s ear to whisper to him. this was normal… right?

“satoru, baby gojo is violently craving a peanut butter and jelly sandwich.”

and you had to have it now.

satoru laid back down on his back and dropped his head on his pillow, he turned his head to stare back at you. he then glanced at his phone on the glass nightstand beside him, checking the time. all he knew was that it was an ungodly hour of the night.

3:42 am.

“right now?” he asked, “like… baby gojo doesn’t want it for breakfast instead?”

you frowned at your baby daddy and gave him your best puppy dog eyes that you knew he couldn’t say no to.

“yes, right now. for like… a midnight snack.” you replied with a twinge of guilt, “—but it’s okay, babe. i can make it myself. i know you have work in the morning.”

you turned away from satoru so you could roll over on your side of the bed to attempt to sit up. you could feel baby gojo kicking your side, happy that you were moving around at this time of night. your baby had always been extremely active while you were supposed to be sleeping.

“no, babe—” satoru interrupted you as he grabbed your arm, “i’ll get you—i mean—baby gojo a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. you stay here.”

you smiled sweetly at him and caressed his cheek, giving him an appreciative kiss.

satoru gojo would do anything for you, even if that meant he had to get out of bed at 3:42am to make his pregnant girlfriend a peanut butter and jelly sandwich when he had to wake up for work at six in the morning.

satoru took a deep breath and swung his long legs out of the warm and comfortable duvet. he rubbed his face with the palm of his hands before hopping out of the bed and into the kitchen.

even though you really wanted that peanut butter and jelly sandwich, you did feel bad that you woke satoru up on a work night. ever since shoko told him that all your cravings needed to be satisfied since that’s what his baby wanted to eat, he was always at your beck and call.

this wasn’t the first time the white haired sorcerer had to fulfill a ridiculous craving of yours. you’ve asked for extra crispy fried chicken in the middle of the night, finished large tubs of lactose-free ice cream, and would make the world’s spiciest noodles even though your heartburn was amplified tenfold during this pregnancy. you told satoru that you were going to eat whatever you wanted if you were gonna be having his baby.

you got up slowly from the bed, feeling your baby shift in your belly. small kicks attacked your left side as you laughed at your active baby. you opened the door of your bedroom to peek into the kitchen.

satoru was standing in front of the fancy digital toaster that megumi had bought him (with your credit card) for father’s day this year. satoru loved high tech gadgets, and knowing him, he always had to have the best in everything… even toasters.

you watched as your sleepy and shirtless boyfriend popped two pieces of whole grain bread into the toaster, grabbing the smooth peanut butter from the pantry and the sweet strawberry jelly from the fridge. your household had two types of peanut butter on hand at all times, one smooth and one chunky. satoru and megumi liked the chunky while you and tsumiki preferred the smooth.

you wrapped yourself in your robe and stepped out into the kitchen. you walked over to satoru, who’s cheek was resting in the palm of his hand, his elbow supporting him on the kitchen counter. he was waiting for your bread to finish toasting.

you snaked your arms around his bare chest, your belly preventing you from hugging him as tightly as you actually wanted to. you rested your cheek on his back.

“what are you doing out here, sweetheart?” satoru asked softly as he peeked behind his shoulder, “i was going to bring the sandwich to you.”

“i don’t want crumbs in our bed.” you replied innocently, “—and i just wanted to watch you.”

satoru turned to you and grinned, “a little creepy, but i like that.”

you glared at him playfully as he snuck a kiss on your cheek. you clung to his side as you watched him spread the peanut butter and jelly onto the perfectly toasted bread. he cut the sandwich into triangles, just how you liked it.

you sat across the kitchen island in the barstool, admiring your boyfriend’s shirtless figure. you laughed knowing that satoru would definitely be considered a ‘dilf’ once your baby was born.

he slid the plate to you and watched as your eyes lit up. he could practically see the stars dancing in your eyes. you were drooling over the sandwich that you were craving so violently just a moment ago.

you took a bite as the peanut butter, jelly, and toasted bread married flavors into your mouth. you swore you haven’t had such a delicious peanut butter and jelly sandwich before this moment.

“is it that good?” satoru chuckled. he was honestly curious. you could be a peanut butter and jelly sandwich spokesperson with the way you were eating that sandwich.

you licked your lips and your strawberry jellied fingers, replying with a mouth full of sandwich, “yes, thank you. baby gojo is so happy, babe. they’re doing somersaults in my stomach right now.”

satoru laughed at your ridiculous reply before swiping crumbs off your bottom lip with his thumb. he turned around to grab an empty glass cup from the kitchen cabinet and filled it with water. he slid the glass over to you.

“thank you.” you said with a smile before downing the glass of water.

satoru had always been an attentive boyfriend, but ever since he found out you were pregnant, he did all he could to be there for you in any way, shape, or form. he was present and involved, you couldn’t ask for a better partner. you couldn’t wait to see him be a father to your baby.

satoru patiently watched as you finished your last bite of your sandwich. you pushed yourself off of the barstool and took your plate to the sink, washing away the crumbs from your hands and plate.

he leaned against the kitchen counter, satisfied with himself, arms folded, “anything else before we head back to bed, sweetheart?”

with no hesitation, you blurted out, “baby gojo wants a hot chocolate.”

satoru blinked twice. at this moment, his baby was craving the most random things. he couldn’t even believe it. this was worse than when he went to buy you fried chicken in the middle of the night. you made sure you put the emphasis on ‘extra crispy’ and if it wasn't extra crispy, he couldn't come home.

“really, babe?” he asked, “you really want a hot chocolate? when was the last time you drank hot chocolate?”

you gave him the puppy dog eyes again, “it’s not me. it’s the baby—can you use the lactose-free milk?”

he stood in front of you and bent down to eye-level with your belly and pointed at your belly button.

“you—baby gojo—are asking for a lot in the middle of the night.” he said to your belly, “it’s a good thing i’m insanely in love with your mommy.”

you felt two kicks from baby gojo. you smiled at the sight of satoru talking to your stomach. he loved to speak to baby gojo as if they were already born. you were certain that your baby recognized yours and satoru’s voices because baby gojo would kick, twist, turn and throw punches when they heard satoru’s voice after he would come home from work or when he would stop by your office to escape his students. your baby loved his voice just as much as you did.

you sat back down in the barstool and watched satoru grab a mug from your mug collection. he recently added a pregnancy mug that he was very proud of.

“this is probably the most accurate mug you’ve bought yet.” you giggled. in a bright sparkly pink font, this one read ‘beware, due to the influence of pregnancy hormones, i could burst into tears or kill you in the next two minutes’.

“sometimes, i worry about you,” satoru teased as he poured your lactose-free milk into the mug and stirred a hot chocolate packet into it. “one minute you’re climbing me like a tree and the next you don’t want me to touch you. is that also because of your pregnancy hormones?”

you laughed shamelessly, “yes, sorry, the libido is off the charts some days.”

the white-haired sorcerer thanked god every day for your increased sex drive during your pregnancy. nowadays you were the one who initiated intimacy… and satoru gojo was not going to complain about that.

satoru put the mug of hot chocolate into the microwave to warm it up for you. he turned to face you as you both waited for the microwave to beep.

once the hot chocolate was done being warmed up, he guided you to the living room with the mug in his hand. satoru sat down on the plush white couch and patted the seat next to him, motioning for you to sit with him.

you obliged and made yourself comfortable. he grabbed your legs to put on top of his and handed you your hot chocolate. he draped a blanket on top of your laps. he placed his hand on your thigh and admired the pregnancy glow on your face in the warm and dim living room lights.

a sweet cup of hot chocolate, a handsome man cuddling you, a comfortable couch and warm blanket? what more could you ask for? you enjoyed any quality time with satoru as you got older and busier. quality time was something you’d keep near and dear to your heart, especially knowing that you weren’t going to be alone with him anymore in a short couple of months. baby gojo was going to be joining the circus soon.

“you know what i just realized?” satoru said out of nowhere as you blew on your hot chocolate.

you looked over at him, cocking your head to the side, “what?”

“we didn’t read week 22.” satoru stated. he was always on top of reading the ‘what to expect’ app with you. you watched as he stood up from the couch to quickly grab your phone from the bedroom nightstand for you.

once he returned to the living room, he made himself comfortable next to you again and swiped open your phone to find the app that you used to track baby gojo’s development.

“baby gojo is as big as a papaya.” satoru read, “baby gojo hit a huge milestone and is weighing at a whopping 1 lbs and is measuring 11 inches in length.”

“that’s our big and strong baby.” you cooed, caressing your belly with your free-hand, taking another sip of your hot chocolate.

“baby gojo’s grip, vision, and hearing are all getting stronger now! you might notice a protruding navel—” satoru lifted the blanket to check your belly button. you laughed to find a non-protruding one at the moment.

“—and possibly even bigger feet.” he finished reading. he peeked over to look at your feet.

“they’re just a little swollen.” you frowned.

“at a glance, even though baby gojo’s eyes are sealed shut, they can perceive light and dark now. shine a flashlight on your tummy and see if your little one moves—oh, babe, we have to try that out.”

you watched as satoru got up from the couch again to dig in the kitchen junk drawer for a flashlight.

“you need to clean out that drawer.” you nagged.

satoru brushed off your comment as he returned to your side, “yeah, yeah. i’ll do it later.”

he turned on the flashlight and pointed it directly on your belly. you immediately felt baby gojo move away from the light, surprising you and making you laugh out loud.

“did you feel anything?” satoru asked curiously. unfortunately, he still hasn't been able to feel baby gojo kick yet, you had hoped that he would be able to soon. only you were able to feel movement at the moment.

you nodded with a toothy smily, “yes. seems like our little one doesn’t like the flashlight.”

satoru grinned back at you. he sat back down and continued to read enthusiastically, “baby gojo is starting to hear and process sounds from inside your body so watch what you say… and baby's nervous system is sharpening the five senses, which means little fingers are learning to grab those tiny ears, nose and umbilical cord.”

you watched satoru’s slender fingers scroll slowly through the app. you gasped. your eyes started to well up with tears. you seemed to cry more easily now with the pregnancy hormones.

“satoru… it says my feet might not go back to normal after pregnancy.”

satoru knew exactly what question you'd ask. 'satoru would you still love me if my feet don't go back to normal after i give birth?'

“babe, it’s okay.” satoru wiped your crocodile tears as he comforted you, "and don't worry, i'll still love you."

“—what if i can't fit my shoes anymore?” you continued to frown, taking a sad sip of your hot chocolate.

satoru stroked your head before placing a kiss on your temple. leave it to you for the theatrics, you were his precious drama queen.

“sweetheart, if your feet don’t go back to normal, i’ll buy you every single pair of shoes you own in a new size.”

and satoru gojo could definitely afford to do just that.

you continued to pout as satoru continued to read the app.

“it says you might start experiencing braxton hicks. they’re like practice contractions.” he hummed, “and the app advises to take more magnesium and to work out… and that’s all for this week.”

you nodded, “i’ll call my doctor and ask about the magnesium. that should help with my leg cramps—and about the working out…”

“—we’ve been working out.” satoru commented slyly.

you glanced at him and sipped at your hot chocolate. even though satoru was keeping you company on the couch, he was probably exhausted. you thought that maybe he could call out of work tomorrow… guilty thoughts of keeping him awake filled your head.

“okay, baby gojo—” satoru leaned over to ask your belly, “is that all you’re craving for? last call in the kitchen. daddy wants to go back to sleep now.”

“yes,” you hummed, “—but mommy is craving for something now too.”

satoru squinted at you and booped your nose playfully, “mommy and baby gojo are the same at the moment. if you’re craving it, i’m sure the baby is too.”

“no, this one has nothing to do with the baby, satoru.” you told him confidently, hoping he’d understand.

he cocked his head to the side, wondering what else you could possibly be craving for at this time of night.

“what is it?”

you looked up at satoru with needy eyes before mumbling, “i want you.”

satoru stared at you for a couple seconds before he registered at what you were hinting at.

“oh. ohhhhhhh—i see where you’re going with this—” he grinned before replying to your sly innuendo of a request, “—well, how can i say no to that?”

you laughed out loud as satoru sat up quickly from the couch, taking you by the hand to lead you back to the master bedroom. you sat down on the edge of your bed, satoru towering over you to lean towards your ear.

he whispered, “you have some interesting pregnancy cravings, babe.”

© 2023 ASDFGHJKLMALS — ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. PLEASE DO NOT COPY, TRANSLATE, OR REPOST MY WORK.

DIVIDERS PROVIDED BY @/ANLIAN-AISHANG

[skylarsblue]

✦Incorrect C.o.D Quotes Nine✦

(Sexual Implication) Ghost, trying to be sexy by whispering: Gaggin’ for it, aren’t ya, love? Soap: Nope. Ghost: No? Soap: I don’t gag on anything. Ghost: *404 Error* Soap: …Ghost? Si? Simon, are you alright?

-- Y/N: Let’s play a word association game! Ghost: Why? Y/N: Because I saved your ass last mission and I’m bored, so you owe me. Ghost: *sigh* Fine. Y/N: P e r f e c t . Gaz: ?? Y/N: Cold. Ghost: Winter. Y/N: Spring. Ghost: Mattress. Y/N: Soft. Ghost: Comfortable. Y/N: Pleasant. Ghost: Sunset. Y/N, With a shit eating grin: Beautiful. Ghost, unconsciously: Johnny- Y/N: YES Gaz: OHHHHHH Ghost: Soap: *gasp* Simon!~ Ghost: I’m going to go crash in a heli. Y/N: I KNEW IT I KNEW IT-

-- Alex: Bitch do you want me to jump across this table? Because I don’t have all day for this. Norris: You feeling froggy? Leap. Alex: Okay, well here I come- Farah: Alex no, no- hOLD OFF

-- (NSFW Joke) Y/N: Oh sorry. I almost drank out of your cup. Soap: Wh-Just go ahead, it won’t matter! Y/N: Well I- Yeah no, you’re right. I’ve drank out of your cups dozens of times. Soap: We’ve sucked the same dick- Y/N: That’s a good point! Ghost: ….*sigh*

-- Gaz: What kind of girl do you like? Soap: My wife. Gaz: And you? Ghost: Johnny’s wife. Gaz: OH- Price, knowing they recently started a poly situation: Pfft-

-- (Use of the word pussy because haha) Gaz, filming: Pffft- Soap: Shhshh- Y/N in the hallway: FORTY THREE FUCKING CENTS! AHHHHH Soap: *wheeze* Y/N: I NEED A SUGAR DADDY!! Gaz: PFFFT- Soap: I can’t breathe- Y/N: At this rate I’m ready to plaster my fuckin’ pussy on the sidewalk for some sPARE CHANGE! Gaz & Soap: *doing that silent cackle thing and smack each other in the arm* Ghost, leaning into the room: What the f- Y/N: SPAARE CHANGE, SPARE CHANGE! ANYONE GOT ANY SPARE CHAAANGE?! Gaz: *coughing* Soap: Steamin’ Jesus I’m fucking crying- Y/N, passing by the room: 🎵Walkin’ in a winter wonderlaaaand🎶

-- Y/N: Would you love me? Gaz: Y/N: Gaz: Y/N: Gaz: Would I love you if…? Y/N: nO ThAt wAs tHE QuesTiOn-

-- Y/N: Pretty boy! With me I said! Rudy: Rudy: Rudy: Oh I’m pretty boy! Y/N: Yes! Oo that came out a bit quick- (Also works with Soap & Gaz, honestly)

-- (THIS IS A CONCEPT IM TOO WHIMPY TO WRITE, SO HAVE IT HERE! THIS COULD WORK WITH SO MANY CHARACTERS Also, NSFW warning) Ghost: I don’t miss. Y/N, on his ear piece: Never? Even with distractions? Ghost: *turns his scope* Not ever. *just about to take a shot* Y/N: Hmm…what if I went… Mm Simon~ Ghost: *misses* Y/N: Ya missed. Ghost: Cheeky bitch…

-- Gaz: Alright, so, since we’re now in America and we have some time to kill, I went and I got you something. Y/N: Aww Gaz, you really didn’t have to- Gaz: *puts down their Whataburger order* Y/N: OH MY GOD Price: Really? Gaz: *shrug* Soap: *snickering as Y/N Fucking demolishes some fries* Y/N, having the time of their life: Garrick you ever need your dick sucked, a dead body buried, a beer or whatever, you call me. I got’chu Gaz: BAHA- Soap: *wheeze* Ghost: Are you fucking crying? Y/N with their mouth full: I missed it so much.

-- (Team bonding exercises) Soap: You’re a football player, it’s in ya blood! Gaz: That’s racist. Soap: Your soul? Gaz: That’s racist! Soap: …your eyes? Gaz: That’s gay- Soap: That’s homophobic. Gaz: That’s black. Soap: That’s racist!! Gaz: Damn- (this one is extra funny since Gaz is now confirmed LGBT)

-- Gaz: You overrated little twink! Soap: Hey I am a TWUNK, alright?! That is a combination, twink, and HUNK, get it?? Hunk-

-- Soap: Hey~ Fem!Y/N: You’re Gay. Soap: …oh yeah. Soap: *looks at Ghost* Soap: Hey.~ Ghost: *sigh*

-- Soap: I’m gonna have to meet men lying down. Y/N: …I thought’cha did?? Soap: OI!

-- Soap: Everyone says what a giving person I am! Y/N: He’s talking about when you’re in an upright position.

-- Graves: What if there’s a connection? Y/N: I think there’s a connection between your brain and wallpaper paste.

-- Shepard: Now you’re always ornery, rude, unpleasant, and sometimes downright mean. That’s part of your charm. Y/N: Thank you, you colluding-county-hopping-idiotic-relic. Price: *pride*

-- Alex: Oh my god, how are you such a good driver? Soap: Because there’s illegal shit in here. Alex: Soap: Because if I don’t use my turn signal, we’re both gonna do fifteen. Because I am going to lie and say yours. Alex: ….. Soap: Put your seatbelt on, sweetheart. Alex: *clicks it in places* Soap: You are not safe!

-- (Sucking dick joke) Kidnapper: You’re gonna do as I say or I will make you regret ever being born. Y/N: Oh please, I’ve sucked dicks more intimidating than you. Soap: Oh this is why Simon was the way he was after we rescued you both last time.

-- Soap, shoving marshmallows in his mouth: This isn’t very ha-*chokes* MILF!Y/N, across the fucking base: ….*mom instinct* Price: ??? Ghost: Uh- Y/N: Something just happened. Kyle: PFFT-

-- MILF!Y/N: *letting Soap & Gaz lean on her while Price and Ghost stand close behind* Untrue. I’m a mother now. It’s really changed my perspective. Graves: And do you find it hard juggling life and a career? Y/N: You can juggle these nuts.

-- Soap: *rambling* Soap: Agh, sorry, I’m just goin’ on and on- Ghost: Oi, keep talking before I kick your ass. Soap: ….. Gaz: See? This is exactly what I m-where the fuck are these flower petals coming from?? ARE THOSE SPARKLES??

[lunas-side-anime-blog]

aot veteran/104 corp icks bc im back on my bullshit

someone requested AOT veteran icks, they didn't specify nsfw or not so I did both and also added sasha connie and jean bc i luv them:) feel free to message/inbox with requests!

(levi, erwin, hange, jean, sasha and connie)

Levi

will visit ur place and organize things without you asking. he'd just be like "ur welcome, now your kitchen makes sense" and ur like sir, I don't know where anything is now??? also he'd def the type to proclaim he's better than you for only getting two hours of sleep when you got four. honestly so many icks come to mind for this one, imma limit it to those two for now (stay tuned lol)

nsfw: tries to be rough with you but forgets his own strength. will try to throw you on the bed, but he does it too hard so you completely miss the bed and fall on the other side of it and he's just standing there like "🧍🏻...my bad."

Erwin

you cannot convince me this man doesn't wear water shoes at the pool. you guys say you want a dilf until you actually get one bc this is the type of shit it entails^^

nsfw: erwin cannot dirty talk for shit. im srry but if you're a lil kinky this isn't the man for you. try to call him daddy and he'd be like "we don't have kids?" and you explain the kink to him and he'd just say, "have you considered therapy?🤨" now he's concerned, boner gone, you feel called out, just go to sleep tbh

Hange

they're def a firm believer in natural deodorant and won't take the graceful hints that it's not working. prob wouldn't chill w them on a hot day is all i'm saying

nsfw: feel like they'd be really good in bed tbh like i'm struggling to think of an ick. hange has big dick energy, weirdos just do it better idk. i think maybe hange would try to spit in your mouth (they a freak) and they have so much and its thick and globby like the back of the throat type spit, your gonna choke bro im gagging as a i type-

Jean

bring back toxic masculinity because Jean's hair care routine is so good to the point he'll call out your split ends, i just know it

nsfw: a fucking chatterbox like his homies know everything. you've walked in on him telling connie in extreme detail how he had you in a full nelson last night while you screamed bloody murder and he doesn't see why ur mad. "babe, if anything i'm bragging about you 😏" fucking idiot istg. also kinda gross but I think he's the type to keep sniffing his fingers after fingering you like well into the next day EWW

Sasha

obvi she can't share for shit so I think she'd be an annoying person to eat out with. like yk when you're with your friends and only one person puts their card down so the rest can Venmo them? I think you can ask her to Venmo 20 and she'd send 15 and say something like "oh I didn't eat as many fries" but she fr did. never puts her card down either so believe it or not? jail.

nsfw: will literally be on her phone mid-sex with you. feel like she'd be really into the subway surfer vids and yeah, you go down on her and look up and she brought her own entertainment? ipad child behavior

Connie

i think he'd say "we" when talking about his fave sports team as if he contributed. like, "really connie, you helped win the superbowl? did you score a touchdown?" grow tf up

nsfw: insane bush on this one, i feel like he doesn't groom for shit and whatever, that's your choice! but I also feel like college-aged modern connie would talk shit about women who weren't bald down there and won't eat it unless it is. HYPOCRITE!! I think when he gets to his mid-twenties tho he'd mature (sasha beat his ass)

[i-cant-sing]

Hello. I am a little obsessed with Dimitri (your oc). I was wondering how he would react to his darling being on a diet (I just read the french fries post, just for context)

Hmm, I think he wouldn't exactly notice it at first, maybe even not thinking too much into it until Xavier told on you.

"Mama hasn't been eating lunch." Of course, at this point, you've been kidnapped by Dimitri for quite a while so he's already encouraged his son to call you "mom" and he's proud that his toddler keeps an eye on you in his absence.

Dimitri is usually busy with work during lunch time but he makes sure that you're there with him during breakfast and dinner, always feeding you the last bite from his plate. Something about "it increases love among partners when they eat from the same plate." And you can't say no because of Xavier's cheers and hopeful gaze.

So he confronts you about it one day.

"Darling~" He calls out as his arms encircle around your waist to make sure you don't run away. "What's this I'm hearing about you skipping lunch?"

You look around to see if Xavier is around, and when you find he isn't, you start pushing on his arms, trying to break free. "Not that it's any of your business, but I'm going on a diet."

Dimitri only tightens his hold and smiles coyly at you. "Why? Are you insecure about your weight? You shouldn't be, but there are better ways to lose weight. Like cardio. Hot, long sessions of cardio with me-"

You smacked his shoulder. "Have some shame! Your son could hear us!"

"Our son-" Dimitri takes the hand you used to smack him and brings it to his lips, kissing it gently. "- is concerned as to why his mother isn't eating lunch with him. He thinks he did something wrong."

Of course, he'd pull at your heartstrings. He knows you have soft spot for Xavier.

"I just... I'll explain its got nothing to do with him." You tried arguing bit Dimitri shook his head, pulling you closer as he tucked your hair behind your ear, looking deep into your eyes.

"Why don't you tell me what this is really about, katyonak? I know you're not interested in losing a couple of pounds." Dimitri could see your resolve break, and you almost- almost told him what's really going on.

But you pushed him away. "I think Xavier is calling me."

He let you go but now he began keeping a closer eye on you, studying your habits, your moods, your reactions. And it didn't take him long to realise that you're... depressed.

That's why you haven't been eating. You spend moat of your time in bed, only coming out of your room when Xavier or Dimitri force you to, staying up late at night just staring at the ceiling, sometimes there'd be dried tear streaks on your cheeks in the morning, sometimes not.

The cause of your depression? You accepting that you'll never be able to escape Dimitri because he'll always find you. So you gave trying to run from him, gave up pushing away his affections.

And while Dimitri isn't good with mental health, he is responsible for you. He will take care of you.

So he starts joining you and Cavier during lunch, pulling you into his lap so that you run away. It makes Xavier laugh as he watches your uncomfortable expression and Dimitri's happy one, asking what he's doing.

Dimitri's eyes twinkle. "Well, sometimes mommy needs daddy's help to eat. So I'm going to feed her!"

"Like a baby?" Xavier giggles.

"Exactly! You and mama are both my babies!" Dimitri answers, pulling you closer when you struggle in his arms.

He makes sure to take you out to eat often, to change your taste palate and your mood from staying at home all day.

You of course would try to order a salad, which doesn't fly with him because Dimitri is now ordering for you.

Your eyes bulge at the amount of food on the table. "This- this is too much, Dimitri!"

He smiles as he cuts into his steak, bringing the fork upto your lips. "You better finish all of it, katyonak, or else the chef will be shot! Now, open up~" your mouth opens in shock, giving him the perfect opportunity to slide the fork in.

Dimitri knows you can't possibly eat this much food but at least you'll try eating half of it? Besides, he needs you to eat healthily. After all, you just might be eating for two soon.

[jungle-angel]

This Cozy House (Bob Floyd x Reader)

Summary: You and Bob spend a chilly fall evening goofing around with the babies

It was absolutely freezing out, more so than it had been since last year despite it being only early October. It was already dark out in early evening, the sun having set around five-thirty in the evening while dinner was left to slow cook in the crockpot, but the house was as brightly lit and cozy as ever.

Auggie and Patrick's squealing giggles soon reached your ears as Bob tickled them, the three laughing up a storm in the living room. You laughed just as they did, your hands trailing to your bump as your baby girl kept rolling over.

A sudden noise made you jump a little along with Bob's stern warning to your son. "August Robert," he chided. "If you're gonna rough-house, take your glasses off."

"Ok Daddy," he chirped, quickly removing his glasses and setting them down on the endtable.

You pulled the grainy loaf of bread out of the oven and put it on the back of the stove, cutting it with great ease and putting it on the plate. The rain battering the roof was growing louder and louder, rattling the pipes that held up the stove vents whole a menacing roll of thunder was heard outside.

"Storm's rollin in (y/n)?" Bob asked as Patrick rolled onto one of the couch cushions on the floor.

"They said it was gonna get bad in a few hours," you told him, bringing the bread to the table. "Not sure how these two are gonna sleep tonight."

Bob nodded in agreement. Storms in California had been nothing compared to those in Montana where you were currently living. All summer long, you and Bob had not only worried about tornadoes but the wildfires which tended to spark up close to towns and cities. Luckily for you, Bob and his family had worked with a local hotshot team to create a burn line so that the ranch would survive.

"C'mon Patrick, roll to Daddy," Bob encouraged.

Patrick squealed and giggled as he somersaulted off the couch and into his father's arms. It always ended the same with Bob putting him back on the couch and having him roll right off, over and over again until finally the timer on the crockpot went off.

"Auggie, grab your glasses, then come eat."

"Ok."

You and Bob were soon seated at the table with Auggie and Patrick, the four of you just having said grace before dinner was passed around, hot pieces of bone-in fried chicken, white-cheddar mac n cheese with toasted breadcrumbs, green beans and the grainy crust of bread that had smelled so good warming in the oven.

Everyone ate their fill and talked about their day and all that had come about. "Oh," Bob said suddenly. "Sweet cheeks, before I forget, I've got next week off so I can go and get the boys from school."

"Does Luanne know?"

"She knows," Bob assured you. "Dad helped her and Magnus fix their windows last week since he had his rotator-cuff surgery. He told her I was gonna pick the boys up as soon as they were done on their nature walks."

Excellent....you thought. One less thing to worry about......

As soon as the boys had finished, you and Bob took care of the dishes and the leftovers, putting the dirty dishes into the dishwasher and putting the leftover food into clean plastic containers to store in the fridge for tomorrow's lunch.

"You want me to take care of baths tonight?" you asked Bob.

"Absolutely not," Bob insisted. "You're eight months pregnant and I don't want you having to hurt yourself."

"Bob, c'mon, we've been through this twice already," you chuckled.

"Which is exactly why I don't want you to hurt yourself," Bob informed you.

"I'm just teasing," you told him.

You leaned into his embrace, happy and content as ever in his arms as he lovingly kissed you, his hand resting on your bump when he felt the tiny little feet of your daughter against his palm.

"You get some sleep my sweet little pea," he mumbled as he stooped to one knee to kiss your belly. "I have a feeling you're gonna be trouble like your brothers."

You laughed a little bit before Bob told you to go and settle in and to get the Friday night movie ready. It was an odd choice of Auggie and Patrick's, but they were beginning to really love Disney's "Fantasia", one that Bob had grown up watching. Even if neither of them understood it, they loved the images that matched up with the music.

Bob quickly gave them their baths and stuck them both in their warm little pjs just in case they fell asleep during the movie. Auggie had run to his room to go and grab his little Dumbo stuffie off his bed while Patrick waddled out with his little brownie bear in its soft knit sweater that you and Bob's mother had both worked on when Patrick had been born.

You and Bob pulled out the couch bed and piled it with blankets, pillows and anything else to keep warm, snuggling in with your boys between you, your family dog jumping up to warm your feet and the movie playing on the tv screen in the living room. You and Bob couldn't have been more content than at that very moment, with both your boys between you, all snuggled under the warm quilts and blankets as the storm passed you by outside. Yet here you remained, unaffected by the rain battering the windows and safe in each other's arms, just as you knew, you always would be

[soraviie]

chasing after you.txt

━ type: bts x f! reader ━ navigation

━ about: dynamics in order: Joon - one-night stand + enemies to lovers, Yoongi - neighbours with a bit of a bad boy influence, Jin - sort of arranged marriage au, Hoseok - exes to lovers, Jimin - sugar daddy/fake dating au, Taehyung - tease x anger issues/clingy + tsundere/f2l, Jungkook - bodyguard x ward

━ pictures taken from Pinterest

━ previously posted on soraviii

NAMJOON: "Aw, fuck, who invited that guy?" you growled, whilst rolling your eyes at the corner where Namjoon had been so precariously sat like an asshole. You hated everything about him - the smug smile, the cocky tone of his voice, the winks he threw your way. Kim Namjoon was nothing but a sure way to get your blood pressure up and stay that way all through the night.

"Probably one of his fri- Shit! He's coming this way!" as your friend dipped over the bar and away into the crowd, courageous as ever, you snatched your drink partially pondering about throwing it into his face.

"You look lonely," he cooed with that shit-eating grin that you had wanted to smack away since the first meeting. And maybe to kiss but he didn't need to know that. "Why don't I keep you company?"

"Keep company with your left hand like you usually do," you yelled over the music.

"Well it does pair well with certain memories of you," he smirked and you groaned in disgust.

A misguided February 14th evening could lead to many foul things - unexpected pregnancy, STDs, Kim Namjoon having the delusional idea that you liked him.

Frankly, you'd rather endure a yeast infection than have this 6 feet fuckboy in the disguise of a pacifistic art lover keep chasing you every night out. More than once you wanted to slap your younger self only to come to their defence over and over again.

Namjoon was big. Big man. Big muscles. Big...well you get it.

And that may have made you a little bit stupid once! But not twice.

Yes.

"I can't stand you," you sneered at him with the most contempt you could possibly muster

"Sit on my lap then, baby."

You took a long swig to finish your drink, sliding it across the bartop and walking backwards, you levelled him down with a:

"You'd only cream your jeans, caveman."

"That's possible," he reckoned with a soft smile watching you mingle with the dancing crowd.

And for a while, it all went well, you'd find someone to at least waste some time with only for them to suddenly start sprinting away for their lives. You frowned after them, coming to a screeching halt in the fun.

Did your breath smell or something?

Taken with dancing, you hadn't noticed the broad-chested giant charging forth, smoke practically fuming from his nostril as his eyes glinted devilishly when tracking down the opponent. As the music changed, you found your waist circled by a shovel-sized palm.

"You really have no luck out here. You keep on being stuck with lil' old me," he whispered in your ear, causing long trails of goosebumps where his breath landed and you elbowed him, hard, in the gut.

He didn't even seem to mind.

"I don't know who you think you are Kim Namjoon but I will never-!"

"Oh, how you hate me," he lets out a burst of raspy laughter, head thrown back on the pillow, pulling you closer as much as he can despite you both being considerably sweaty.

"S-shut up," you grunt back, thighs aching but just a little bit more and you'll be in your happy place even if it was with this obnoxious gym rat. "You're just a cock on legs to me."

"Oh, for sure," he smirks and then prompts himself upwards to bite on your neck. "But you might think of screaming a tad quieter if you want to be really convincing."

It's a sick sense of deja-vu to wake up sore and aching all over in a sun-filled room overstuffed with cacti and a very soft blanket. The bed was empty and as you clamber to the toilet wearing a shirt found on the floor, struggling to walk, you stumble upon him in the kitchen - Cheshire grin spread all over his lips.

"Good morning," Namjoon greets. "You want some eggs, babe?"

YOONGI: His eyes track your movement as though it's dazed him and it's in moments like these you wish he was a criminal or something, a certified member of a mafia. A flag touch redder.

Stay away from Min Yoongi, they said, he's trouble but what to do when he doesn't stay away from you?

"So a kitten does come out to play," he purrs pressing one of those veiny palms against the elevator doors, halting it in its tracks and climbing in. You roll your eyes and straighten your back to appear more threatening. Yoongi, of course, couldn't give less of a shit.

"You're one to speak," you counter. "The most walking you do is through your apartment. It's like a herd of elephants."

"Well then don't listen in on what I do, you little pervert," he smirks, pressing the 8 on the elevator and it jerkily moves through the floors, reminding you once again to be grateful for life.

"Give it here," without waiting for a reply, he grabs the hold of your bags and goes straight to your apartment doors. Once inside he makes himself right at home, rolling up the sleeves of his shirt.

"What are we eating?" he questions gruffly, examining the produce with no small amount of judgment.

"You're speaking French now?" you push him away, relinquishing the rightful ownership of a pair of avocados you bought. "Whose "we"?"

He doesn't bother gracing it with a comment as anyhow a doorbell rings and you see his tongue poke against the cheek.

"Who the hell are you?" he questions sharply and you peer into the doorway.

"Oh, hello," you greet your coworker with a reserved smile. "What are you doing here?"

"Yeah, what are you doing here?" Yoongi echoes, placing his hand above your head and on the very edge of the door.

"Just interested if you're going to the uh... team bonding activities," he replies, fretfully glancing at Yoongi.

"Ignore him, I do," you smirk up at Yoongi. "And-"

"She has plans," Yoongi interrupts, pushing you back into the kitchen with his palm against your back.

"Oh, okay," your coworker stutters awkwardly, trying to lean in somehow. "See you around?"

"No," Yoongi cheerfully replies and smacks the door right into his face.

"You're such a dick," you groan.

"Did you have plans?" he asks with a teasing lilt, voice dropping nearly an octave lower. "And are you going to lie that it wasn't with me?"

"My jumbo-sized Charmander plushie and I are doing well on our own," you point at him with a packet of tomatoes. "Where you fit into the equation is a mystery."

"I'll tell you where I can fit," he laughed, wagging his eyebrows.

"No, no, goodbye," you wrinkle your nose in disgust, pushing his still laughing back out of the door. "Leave."

"Wait, what if I need some sugar?" he objects and you furrow your eyebrows, glaring up at him in suspicion.

"Do you?"

"No," he shrugs carelessly. "But what if."

"Begone, demon," you push against him harder but he seems to only enjoy it.

"Come to my game. It's right across the street in that park. I need a good luck charm."

"Will you be throwing a ball in your face? If no, then I'm not interested."

As you slam the door shut there still comes a raspy whine.

"Come on, short ass, come."

And if you do happen to drop by the nearest park with its shitty basketball court it's because you have nothing better to do and you needed some ice cream. Yoongi, uncharacteristically brazen for him, smirks at then winks in the middle of the game.

And promptly receives a ball to the face.

JIN: "Eat more garlic!"

"Straighten your hair with an iron!"

"Belch really, really loudly!"

You try to recall all of your friends' sage advice whilst pacifying your nerves. Being late nearly an hour didn't sit well with you but this guy was...determined. Insanely determined. So the ends justify the means.

When at last you arrive at the three Michelin star restaurant it's an hour later than what your family had set and you're wearing sweatpants and a t-shirt. Your face may burn with shame at such a display but certainly, this would beat this broad-shouldered man off the path. This was beyond and above rude. You're already prepared to be yelled at, scorned and insulted but Seokjin merely blooms into an eager smile. Doesn't even blink twice at your choice of wear.

He dismisses the host with a polite nod and pulls a chair out.

"Hello, _________," he greets innocently. "Traffic is hell, right."

There was no traffic and he knew it only making excuses to achieve whatever nefarious goal he had set out to.

"Just give him a chance," your mother pleaded over the phone. "He's been asking about you forever. Please, he's rich and handsome, what's not to like."

What's not to like? Well, probably something. Kim Seokjin in your mind had always stood as that annoying guy who'd dropped a water bomb on your head when you were about to take the most glorious profile picture ever. Spinning in overlapping social circles, you'd seen too much of him growing up and had to endure several of your friends flailing over him especially when the pool season began. He was like a jar of honey to their fly status. And as such only a tar in your own pot of sweetness.

He was old. You had not exactly a criminal age difference but still more than 2 years. He was a creep, you firmly plant that idea into the recesses of your mind.

Why oh why, was he so insistent on asking about you?

"Good idea," he praises, pointing at your outfit. "It's best to be comfortable. I should have done that as well, this is quite uncomfortable," he waves a disappointed hand over the blue three-piece suit.

The waiter along with the menu serves you a freshly plucked side eye.

"Yeah, that's why I did it," dryly you mutter back, hiding behind the menu.

Think, think, think, what else turns off snooty men?

"Fucking shit," you cry out to your own amazement. "These prices are ridiculous. I'm not paying for this!"

"That's fine," Jin shrugs with that seemingly permanently etched expression of a tender smile. "I invited you here, I'll pay."

You groan.

"I'll fart," you threaten.

He shrugs and gracefully pours you a glass of wine.

"Everyone does that. It's a part of life."

You slobber your dinner up like a beast.

"Hmm, you're making the meal look more delicious," he nods.

And not even when you "accidentally" spill a mango sauce on his pants worth more than your apartment, does he weigh the thought of becoming angry in his mind.

"Ah, it's a perfect colour now," he merely congratulates with a jubilant cry and you let your head fall on the table with a thud, only it hits his palm as he had stretched it out at the last second.

"Are you insane?" you breathe out in sheer desperation. "Why are you not running over the hills?"

"Do you really think I can't see that you're doing this on purpose?" he smirks in amusement, over the rim of the wine glass. "We've known each other for a while, I know you better than that."

"Exactly!" you yell before falling into a hush as numerous daggers shoot your way. "You know me! As the annoying friend of your cousin! Why are you asking after me all of a sudden?! What joke are you playing?"

"Well, first of all," Jin corrects all too self-congratulatory. "I've never thought you were annoying. Maybe except when you were like 14 but who isn't the worst person in the world at that age? And secondly," his ears abruptly turn quite pink and he lets the wine glass rest on the table, nervously fiddling with its stem. "I asked for you because as you may know your mother is quite eagerly seeking various wedlock opportunities. For you specifically."

That makes you groan only louder.

"Don't remind me. So, so what? You want to get married to me?" you snort at the idea but then, for the first time ever, Jin is not laughing.

"Yes," he says dead serious.

"Wait, is this a prank?" you glance all around in an attempt to find the hidden cameras. "Are you pulling my leg?"

"I'm pulling no legs. What a weird thing to do," Jin muses and you narrow him down.

"Don't joke. It's not funny. Say "got you" or something. You can't be serious?!"

"Listen, ___________, I've liked you for a while now. I wanted to ask you before you began university but then you brought Jae home and..."

"Jae? Jin, that was...that was five years ago! You couldn't have liked me for five years?"

He averts his eyes and sips on his champagne. Even his neck is red.

"Five years?" you cry out. "And you kept quiet?!"

"Well, I told you now!" he objects with some indignation but even more of a burning shame. "All you need to do is to decide what you're going to do. 'Cause I'll accept you as you are, belching, sweatpant wearing and all. Even if you straighten your hair with an iron."

For a second you sit still and stupefied on this ridiculously over-padded chair ad then you feel yourself match the heat blooming on his face.

"You know Giulia?" you ask, downing the entire wine while desperately trying not to smile at the soft amusement in his eyes.

"Of course, I know Giulia," Jin chuckles self-consciously. "Who do you think gave me the genius advice of this stuffy suit?"

HOSEOK: You should have known from the start that this would lead to nothing good. What else could wait for you at the end of the nondescript hallways of conference rooms? One thing you didn't expect however was the loathsome face of your ex-boyfriend. Hoseok was sitting already by the table, beautiful as ever, leg nervously bouncing against the floor and treacherously a click of a lock snapping in its place echoes behind you.

He springs up from the seat, nervously glancing at where you tried to somehow break through the door. Or the wall, whichever came first.

"Oh, hell no," you growled, nails scraping against the doorknob. The betraying Brutus of a friend he had bribed to text you to come here will find an egg on their window for sure.

"_____________, please, let's just talk," he pleads. "Just let...let me explain."

"I don't want to hear any explanation," you hissed, turning to glare at him. From the way his eyebrows sloped, you could tell he was deadset serious but then it comes too clearly back into your mind.

That you were weird, not his type, that he doesn't understand you. But instead of simply crying about it you left. To cry about it in your own space. And also then turn incredibly bitter over it.

"I just meant that..."

"That I'm a freak? Yeah, I got it," you snarled before yanking harder on the knob. "Open the damn door!"

"No. If you're going to leave then please do the courtesy of letting me memorize your face."

You close your eyes, steeling your resolve. Don't give in, you reminded yourself, not after a whole year of hunkering through yet another heartbreak. Hoseok was just like the rest. Taking weirdness in all the things you liked, that you were. Why should you ever change for anyone else?

"It's been a year," you note sternly, having slid on the floor. He's also there, watching away from the small distance with a crease of a frown between his brows.

"Exactly. This year was one of the worst I've ever had," he confesses, supposedly earnestly. "I admit the things that I said were wrong but I did not mean it like that!"

"________________ is just a bit weird. You know the people I used to date, there's a bit of a difference, softly said," you quote him word for word. "And you said that to someone else! You opened your mouth, said that shit and thought it was okay!"

The sun behind the window had nearly slipped over the horizon and the office space was illuminated with a soft orange glow.

"You know the first time I met you, that was a lie," he mutters into the air. No one had come to open the door despite you nearly beating it off the hinges.

"Oh, that too was a lie, wonderful," you groaned, rolling your eyes but Hoseok remains sitting sadly by, occasionally passively twirling his shoe laces.

"I actually went past you on the street. Remember the crossroad by that small confectionery?"

You did remember. You lived right above it for a while, making your hair smell perpetually of candy for half a year.

"I...I got lost around there and walked past you, and you were sort of listening to your headphones, not looking around. I remember," he chuckled as though taken by an old memory. "You wore that knitted jumper that kept falling off your shoulder, the faded beige one and I just...I was so jealous of you, you were so carefree."

You glanced at him surprised. As far as you knew the first time Hoseok and you met was at a graduation gathering, a friend of a friend sort of a situation. And as you sat there, enjoying your barbecue by the side, wondering whether to dip your ketchup-stained hand in some weed brownies, he came up to you with the brightest smile, talking as though he knew you. Guess he did then know you.

"And the next day I went there again. I didn't even know why but I just did and you were there again. And I kept returning," he smiled at the ground but it quickly vanished. "Every day for a month before I met you at that gathering. Sometimes you were there, a lot of times - not but when you did it lit up my entire day. I didn't know how to approach you though, it's not a thing you do in the middle of the street, you know?"

"No," you affirm faintly.

"And when you left..." Hoseok winced at the mere mention of it. "I still kept going back," his breath was nothing more than a whisper stained with regret. The look in his eyes was downright depressing and you wondered if he had roamed around bearing the same heavy chip that you had. "And our favourite cafe. And your favourite park spot. I was there like...like a ghost lingering in your presence."

"But why did you say then that I was weird?" you sniffled, letting, for the joke of your own mental stability, some of that defence down. Attempting to look at Hoseok without the veil of contempt you've draped over him for a year. Dragging yourself back from hell was hard, dragging yourself from hell when thrust there by the one person you thought wouldn't do that - even harder. But by peeling off at least one cover, you saw many wonderful memories behind it, as slightly tainted as they were.

"I don't know," he groaned, hiding his face in the palm of his hands. "I was stupid. I meant in my heart that you were unlike anyone I've been with before. Not bad but different. And, yes, sometimes I don't understand you but I want to," he rouses to look into your eyes across the room. "I want to. And even if I never fully understand, I would like to make you feel heard and stand by your side nonetheless."

You stare into the sun to avoid crying. Stupid thought as no one ever stared into this glowing orb of light hanging in the sky in order to not get misty-eyed.

"What I said there was, I admit, crass. I was scared because I...with you I don't want to leave. I don't want to call quits when it becomes uncomfortable or becomes uneasy, I want us to grow together. And that scares me because, for the first time, I can really truly get hurt," he exhaled a heavy sigh, voice growing strained. "So when you left, no explanation, just gone in the wind..." he glimpsed over the horizon. "Anyway, I recognise me cornering you like this is wrong but...if you ran away because you felt unloved, I just wanted to show that I'd be chasing after."

Hoseok wiped at his eyes and briskly got up.

"But if you didn't and don't want me, I'll open the doors," from the pocket of his jeans, he fished out a glinting silver key. "I really just wanted to memorize you for as long as I could. I'm sorry."

He opens the doors and you called out -

"Hoseok!"

JIMIN: The phone kept ringing. You'd put it on mute but even so the bright light of the flashing screen stirred you awake and after a brief wrangle of putting the chip bowl actually on the table nearby, kicking your leg free from the grasp of the blanket, you simply watched it ring. After eventually growing into silence, it went to the 45 unanswered calls like the rest. You sighed turned to your side and slid the eye mask over the face, trying to somehow coerce yourself into immediate and indisputable slumber.

This was just the outward manifestation of his bruised ego, nothing more. You don't think anyone had ever rejected Park Jimin so this must be a new, unfamiliar feeling, one he'll get over in time and then maybe even laugh about it years down the line.

I mean, come on, you thought to yourself cutting the words like bloodied post-it notes in your own mind. There's no such thing as a rich handsome guy genuinely falling for someone so...

The disgusting words sprung too freely on the tip of your tongue so you settle for normal. To not at least give into self-hatred so easy. Such was the plot of romantic dramas and fantasies hence why it was fiction. Rich, beautiful people went for other rich beautiful people, normal folks went for normal folks. Dogs did not mix with chickens or pandas with capybaras. It was simply nonsense.

But as you close your eyes, the memories make it harder to be as clinically objective. All too well, you remember. His hands on your face, grasping as though he feared you would leave.

"Why don't you ever believe me?" he asked with heated desperation. "Nothing I say is ever good enough. Nothing is trustworthy!"

You tried to pry him gently away.

"Because how can I believe you? Look at yourself and look at me. This is not even opposites it's...unfathomables!"

You wished partially that he'd go to the good old Mr Park of the beginning, one who'd walked up to you in a cafe and asked if for a fair amount of money you'd be willing to answer his phone and pretend to be his girlfriend. And since the sum he called out was the rate of an onerous monthly rent, you'd plastered the sweetest voice you could in a matter of seconds with no questions asked.

When thinking of all the troubles when he approached you again, completely by accident, you had thought to yourself jail, assault, violence, even cannibalism for good measure, who knew what kind of sicko this stranger could be, but never you considered you'd be scared by the simple fact that he was in love with you. He had been cold, rude and brusque at the start and you had been fine with that, your "job" was to sometimes go to family dinners and lie which while not moral was not a crime.

Only then he invited to accompany him to his office, then to trips, then to movies and then one day you wake up in your bed and Mr Park, once a cold and resigned man, drenched in his own riches, is now making pancakes on your old stovetop and smiles the kindest smile you'd ever seen and asks if you slept well.

How could it not be a scary sight?

"I love you!" he shook you by the shoulders, not hard enough to hurt but as if trying to shake the bad thoughts out. "But you hate yourself! And you never listen!"

"They'll think I'm a gold-digger!" you cried. Just looking around his apartment made you sick. You couldn't even afford his carpet. How could he love someone with whom he shared so little with? He had never known the feeling of counting one's last money to afford bread or not buying something out of impulse. And you had never known the etiquette of polite brutality, of caring about who sits where because one word spoken at the wrong crowd table could destroy your entire livelihood. Love didn't change two profoundly different experiences.

"They don't think that!" he argued. "My parents wanted me to be with someone-"

"Poor?" you interrupted finally wrenching yourself free. Why was he so cruelly saying these things? He will just make you love him and then dump you with nary concern. Like others and then in time you will always think that you should have known better. Should have gotten rid of those rose-tinted glasses sooner not when they're smashed in shatters on the cold concrete.

"No!" Jimin immediately counters. "Of a different social circle! And even if they did, I don't care!"

"But the press-!"

"I don't care!"

"The rest of your relatives and friends-!"

"I don't care!" he yelled back, ripping at his hair, faint tears lingering in his eyes. "What will it take for you to believe me?! Please, why don't you believe me?"

"I can't!" you shrieked back in a sob. "Because better you not love me at all than fall out of it after some time! I don't want to be loved! I don't want to trust! I just want to be alone!"

Alone is what you were now but it felt no better.

"It will," you calmed yourself aloud. "Give it some time and your life will return to how it was."

Boring. Monotone. A single actor performing the most dreadful play to an audience of no spectators. You sniffled punching the pillow. Stupid Park Jimin waltzing into your life and making you think you were not the person you saw in your mind. That you were better. But how can you be when you're always "you"? A nameless face in the crowd, a cog in the machine.

No one, really.

As a sudden hand wraps around your waist, you scream and nearly punch the lights out of the affectionate attacker before in the faint streetlight streaming through the windows you recognized Jimin's eyes.

"How did you get in here?" you rustled in indignation.

"I had a key made. Remember? So I could greet you at home after work," he explained sternly.

"Well, you can't be here now-" you tried to argue, even push him out if needed, but he grasped at your legs and wrestled you to sit atop of him. You always fretted you were too heavy but he never objected.

"I'll leave if you order me to leave. Say those exact words: "Jimin, I want you to leave and never return back."

"I want to be alone," you muttered out of force of habit playing with the neck of his shirt.

"It's not the same," he cupped your cheek. "Until you tell me to piss off in my face, I'll keep chasing you every time you run. You think no one would? I will. Over and over again."

Your lip wobbled.

"It's ungrateful work," you breathed as he tugged you closer into a hug, gently swaying from left to right.

"Not to me."

TAEHYUNG: It takes thirty minutes for your aunt, a known stick in the mud, to go from screaming why was there a whole ass adult man traipsing in the apartment her niece should keep an eye on, to peacefully discussing the best nut selection over the kitchen table with eagerly listening Taehyung on the other side.

You were 35% convinced he knew how to do magic, and 65% convinced he was magic. And if he feasibly could he would live in your asshole. And the worst of all you can't get rid of him.

Well no, the worst of all you don't want to.

Coming from a rough environment, no matter how you slice or dice it, that leaves its own impression upon the mind. Yours being - people leave, people lie, people bad. It was easy to go through life, more than two decades of them in selective solitude, having friends but never letting them too close in and soon after they would stop even being friends. It was easy and predictable and while no one cared for you, you had to care for no one, could go where you wanted, how and when you wanted and fully enjoy doing what you liked.

And then this curly-headed now human reincarnated tiger-bear hybrid showed up. Literally dropping out of nowhere whilst still in university, pointing a finger of his frankly too large of a hand at you and then basically saying: "I want that one, that one's mine". Actually no, he did say exactly those words as you remember faintly chucking a dictionary of law at his head, thinking he'll abduct you or something.

And that's how six years later you were moved in. And he had invaded every part of your life, with his kind words, sopping eyes and chiselled chin.

As Taehyung slowly drifted to sleep, eyes falling heavier, his hand is intertwined with yours. And as you'll go to sleep yourself, despite him having his own bed, inexplicably you'll wake up with his breath against the back of your head.

Which was strange you know. You don't even remember agreeing to be friends with him. But steady as a clockwork, lo' and behold, at two in the morning, Taehyung's thigh squirms in between yours and he sighs in content.

Bizarre to say the least.

"Hey, where are you going?" he asks in wonder, poking his very shirtless body through the crack in the bathroom doors, toothbrush hanging from the corner of his mouth.

"Out?"

"Wait, lemme comme with."

"Can I go out on my own? As the big girl that I am?" you huffed dryly, brows furrowed.

"No," he replied with a smile. Then you walk side by side you glare at your hands, swaying together in the warm air.

"A crazy question, one I'm just putting out there, will you ever...leave?" you ask with a faint frown. There might just be this...supposition, guesswork if you will, in your mind that it might just be that somehow you're...Taehyung's partner now.

"Hmm," he makes an act of pondering it out. "No, no, I don't think I will. Unless you kick me out."

Kick him out. Why didn't you? When previous lovers threw fits about Taehyung always being near, you parted with them with nary of guilt because they were...not your rock. Your rock and safe space had become this strange, occasionally vampiric-looking, a cardigan-loving friend of yours. But he never vocalized it. Or so you thought. He was always teasing you about being hard of emotional hearing, now that you thought about it.

You halted in the middle of the sidewalk and he turns to glimpse at you, curious.

"Taehyung...are you...in love with me?"

Astonishingly, he bursts into a peal of laughter.

"I have been for years now," he chuckles light-heartedly. "Though thank you for finally noticing."

"Wh-why didn't you say something? Anything?"

An expression of deep fondness settles on his face and it warms you like the late summer sun.

"I say "I love you" every day, dumbass. I've chased after you for like six years now. Oh, god," he gasps, sounding suddenly absolutely horrified. "Six years of my life wasted chasing after your stupid head. Oh, I'm an idiot."

"So a moron for a moron, a match made in lower intelligence," you grumble and he snorts at it, crossing the distance once more. When he takes your hand it feels weird for a second. But only for one. You ask yourself what will change and realize - not much.

"That we are Mrs Kim," he coos with a broad grin. "Great! Now I can show you the plans for our shared tombstone I sketched back in the university!"

JUNGKOOK: "He's...will he be staring like that for the entire evening?" your friend asks timidly, voice nearly overshadowed even by the pleasant music of the brunch place. You glimpse over your shoulder to find him aimlessly lounging around. When meeting your gaze, his lips, almost involuntary, spread into a wide grin as his nose scrunches in a manner that is inappropriate for any self-respecting bodyguard. He at least gathers that and sobers with a stern cough.

"Yeah, he's just...my...finance manager," lamely, you trail off but at least they believe it. Considering the last three months it wasn't that believable.

"In a twist of miraculous fate, a poor vintage boutique worker becomes the sole inheritor of the Durhanan Estate," she quotes with a mysterious smile and you squirm awkwardly as you always did when it was bought up. Six years of lawsuits had rendered the luck into a frenzied fever dream one you thought would never come to fruition. Even when the final decision was laid to rest and the lawyers of your great-grandfather popped their champagnes with cheery eyes it all felt so distant. Like a different life. That feeling, you find out, never left.

"Yeah, it's...crazy," you chuckled self-consciously.

"So is the old house haunted?" she questions leaning over the table with keen interest, though every once in a while her gaze does stray worryingly to where Jungkook was standing.

"It's just creepy. It's big...and old," you confess perhaps colouring it with hues too bold, knowing only the answer such as this would satisfy her interest. It was old and entirely too big (who needed thirty-four rooms) but with Jungkook it was less lonely, less of a ghost house and more of a...

No, it's stupid, don't say it, you think to yourself.

"So now that you're rich," she throws a not-so-small of judgemental look over the crystal glass of mimosa. "Will you be forgetting all about us?"

"No," you assure her. "This means nothing. It's just a change of...housing."

But she only scoffs in reply. You think you might not have your best friend much longer.

"You look unhappy," Jungkook reckons quietly, whilst driving back to the Durhanan estate. A nearly 300-year chateau hidden within an unnamed forest deep in the countryside. Once the chief story of the local children's ghost tales and now - your home.

Of sorts.

"I'm just tired," you deny, peering into the rolling landscape of the wilting greenery. A rougher hand suddenly rests atop of yours, stopping them from ripping the skin around the fingernails. Your face swelters with heat and you gently remove his palm.

You were his boss and this was...this was not appropriate.

But Jungkook has other ideas and despite there being thirty-four rooms and whooping nine acres of gardens there's hardly any escape from him.

"My lady, oh, my lady," he calls across the gravel path leading down into the overgrown, ivy-ridden paths. He runs up to you and then gently tucks the bloom of one of the wild roses ravaging the grounds behind your ear. He tries to suppress the smirk on his face and narrows his eyes against the glaring sun.

"You're...you," he stutters. "You doing anything special, tonight?"

You don't quite know why but that question, posed so innocently and presumably out of a need to start a conversation, makes you laugh. It was only you two here, no wifi, piss-poor electricity and the nearest town, a village actually, was thirty-minute drive away and the only thing interesting there was a two-room corner shop.

"Wondering whether we're going to be killed by demons, yes," you laughed lightly.

"I was just wondering whether we could bust out the old reliable solitaire in the library?"

You sigh but it falls more endeared than annoyed.

"Jungkook, stop trying to seduce me."

At first, his face seems to be crestfallen only for a cheeky smirk to appear.

"Trying?" he echoed and slightly leaned into you. A gust of sharp wind broke through the gardens and in sync you glanced at the sky above your heads. A cluster of dark clouds was gathering in the south.

"Let's go in," he urges softly but his body standing behind you flames your back.

A thunder was ripping outside like something crazy, rattling the panes of the window so hard you fretted they would shatter at some point. And the house screamed. Every breeze of the wind seemed to tear into the old floorboards as though they were alive.

Ghosts are not real, ghosts are not real, ghosts are not-

BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!

You screamed your lungs out, lunging towards the golden candelabra perched on the bedside table.

"You're alright? Are you okay?" Jungkook's voice swims through the dark and you exhale in loud relief.

"Do not! Scare me like that!"

After a moment and a creak of the old floor comes a bashful.

"Sorry."

Another crack of lightning. In the brief flash, you see him standing, unsure but not leaving. It was a bodyguard's duty to protect and he always took his duty quite seriously. Even if this duty was simply to protect you from any unwanted journalists and stalkers where there was none leaving him practically with nothing to do.

"Should I stay here? Protect you...from the storm?"

You raise an eyebrow.

"The storm? That is-"

CRACK!

"Yes, please and thank you," you whimper and not even a second later, the side of your bed dips.

Crickets might as well be chirping at the moment.

"Do you want to hold my hand?" he offers, sweetly, oh so sweetly as if he wasn't a little demon wearing a cheap halo. But still, the house continues its wail. How many lives had been lost in these walls? What stories did they tell?

You didn't want to know and so you agree but as he takes your palm, your hand lands on a very firm set of muscles.

"Jungkook, please retake 9th-grade biology, your six-pack is not a hand."

"It emits the same level of comfort."

He trails your hand higher, over his pecks and lands right on his heart. It drums like a fevered bird underneath your fingertips.

"Why are you so nervous?" you hum and he rolls on his side and settles himself onto the pillow.

"Because I like you. And you like me. Even if you pretend that you don't."

"It's really not ap-"

"Appropriate?" he finishes and then tugs his hands over your waist pulling you closer. "Perhaps not but you know what happens in the spooky old mansion, stays in the spooky old mansion."

His warm palm cups your cheek, stroking it with a dizzied smile.

"And if it doesn't, I'm a really good runner, so you can scurry all you like," a pause. His hand presses you even closer.

© soraviii/soraviie 2022-2023

[saltygilmores]

Thoughts While Watching Gilmore Girls, 3x9, A Deep Fried Korean Thanksgiving, Part IV

I just realized the winter carnival episode is next and tbh I'm pretty stoked about that one.

Ugh, someone left Gilmores on my front porch. Fetch me my broom. Shoo! Shoo! At Thanksgiving number one, we find out Lane is spinning yet another tangled web of lies to ensnare Soggy Rygalski (my new pet name for him, don't ask). Mrs Kim thinks Soggy is actually in a Christian band that Lane discovered through church and not a sinful rock band. Mrs Kim serves Tofurky and I feel as if our little vegetarian diner rat would have enjoyed that.

Welcome back, Soggy.

Dang. When Rory sees how people like her mother and Luke and Mrs Kim treat their employees, it's no wonder she doesn't want to get a job! Bad dum tssssh. Thank you, thank you, I'll be here all night.

Why did I remember that scene as being a lot longer than it was? It lasted less than three minutes. Weird!

Onward, from Soggy to Sookie.

"According to the National Fire Protection Association: deep fryer fires cause an average of 5 deaths, 60 injuries and more than $15 million in property damage each year. Deep-frying turkeys has become increasingly popular, but the new tradition is a recipe for holiday tragedy."

Men, eh? One minute they're lying about turkey preparation and the next they're lying about having a vasectomy.

Rory looking gravely concerned or lost in thought as usual. Thinking deep thoughts about frying. Asked Sookie not once but twice "What do you use the oil for"?

Granny creakily rising from her lawn chair to join the hordes of Jackson's screaming white trash relatives has to be one of my favorite bits in this episode (maybe the season?) so far.

Gather round, white trash young and old. Your king has arrived.

THE FACES!

This whole scene is top notch. I tip my hat to you, Miss AmyShermanPalladino. After departing the white trash jubilee, it's time to circle back to Lukes. I know small business owners are hard working people who don't always have the luxury of shutting down and taking a break, but do you think he ever closes the diner? For anything? Christmas Day? Yeah, I'm sure ya'll can name a few times on the show where he closes up shop (would actually be interested to hear what they were). It wouldn't matter. He'd try to close on Christmas Day and the Gilmores would show up anyway and demand to be served instead of drinking eggnog in their own home. For Christmas, Lorelai should buy Luke a massage. (A LEGITIMATE MASSAGE. You filthy readers).

Mommy Daddy please stop fighting

*smashes Jess and Rory together like I'm 9 years old forcing two Barbie dolls to make out*

Alarming to see Lorelai treat Jess this nicely because I worry she may be ill. Or possibly delirious from hunger (she didn't eat at Sookie's or Lane's, she threw out Mrs Kim's tofurky and just gawked at Sookie's house). It looks like Luke was nice enough to give Jess the day off, but Walmart (and its Hunger Games-style Black Friday festivities) may still be calling. Is this the first real, hot, home made, lovingly prepared holiday meal anyone had ever served him in his entire life? (I'll give partial credit to The Bracebridge Dinner). No street wieners for Jess Mariano this Thanksgiving! Jess says he's starving, but Luke told him not to eat until the Gilmores arrived first. That's some grade a bullshit.

All he wants this Thanksgiving is for his fellow white people to Check Their Privilege. Good luck with that, Lucas.

Serving lewks. Luke has just served the table four heaping plates of hot food and upon hearing that the Gilmores will be trotting off to the McMansion next, presumably to eat way fancier, he says they can just throw everything the fuck out and drink soda if they want. Kay... Jess: Please, Uncle Lucas, don't take away my hot meal. I'm ever so hungry.

A screen shot of Milo eating makes a great gift or any holiday or special occasion.

How DARE you Lucas. You are not going to make my poor tired boy serve coffee to the Gilmores on Thanksgiving Day! Lorelai's your ball and chain, you do it.

Yeah, what a pity that not everyone can kiss like Dean.

"You and Jess are a couple of chickens pecking each other." Yooo, it's about time you pick a lane, Lorelai. You're confusing the poor girl. The last time an adult got wind that Jess and Rory were about to peck like chickens The Incredible HulkLuke smashed down the door and put those two chickens out to pasture. Rory: Mind your own business. Lorelai:???????? I assure you she does not know the meaning of the phrase. R: I'm not good with public displays. L: You didn't have that problem with Dean Me: Trying fruitlessly to remember any scene where Dean and Rory passionately made out in public or showed any sort of affection with each other anywhere that Lorelai could see it R: I don't know how this first second boyfriend thing is supposed to go. L: Well he's your first second boyfriend so give it time. R: The whole town got used to me with Dean. L: It'll get easier, you'll have hundreds of men. Well maybe not hundreds. A couple. Three more. Dean again, Logan, then Logan again. L:They'll adjust to seeing with you Jess! R: What do I do about Dean? L: Well he'll move on too. All this sensible advice coming from Lorelai? It is truly the Thanksgiving of Miracles.

God bless you, Babette. God bless you.

The next scene, a Friday (Thursday) Night Gilmores Showdown at the McMansion goes on for around 8 minutes which is going to feel like more than an hour in Salty Time. I'm going to wilt.

[ohtobeleah]

Congrats on 4k Leah!🤍 I've been reading you work for a while now but I just started a new account so I can start writing something too and I'm here following you again🤎🤎 I love your writing so much! Please, never stop writing🤍 // This is my first time requesting on here so if I do it wrong, I'm so sorry🙇‍♀️ I'd like to request situation #28 and sentence #13 with Bob, please. Thank you so much🤍🤎 #PL2

Situation 28 - Love confession

Prompt 13 - “Tell me what you're thinking right now.”

The Waitress Song //

“Mama?” Your daughter asked as you held her hands as she stood on the edge of the pool table, balancing as your husband and his colleagues celebrated their promotions with a few rounds at the local watering hole. The Hard Deck. “How did you meet daddy?” 

***~***~***~***~***~**

“What can I get you today, Flyboy?” There's a place Bob goes for breakfast every afternoon. The coffee’s rubbish and the bacon’s always hard to chew, and the toast is always soggy, but— he hardly notices. 

And the food takes such a long time to get made, even when he’s the only person in the cafe. And his table is always wobbly—but he hardly notices. 

You're probably thinking why he’d even bother eating there on a daily basis? There's heaps of other places on offer, why not change to another place if the bacon is rubber and the taste of the cuppa makes him pull faces and splutter?

It's the waitress. He loves her, the way she clears plates with a clutter, you make his heart race and flutter. He is absolutely aware that it's crazy to love you—A lady that's basically just a stranger with an apron down your brother. 

Bobs doesn’t need to ask your name and number because this relationship is built on breakfast, all he does is wait on you just so you can wait on him. 

“Just the usual?” You asked shortly after. Bob smiled softly as he handed you back the menu that’s always on the table prompt and ready. You took it with grace and fished the blue ball point pen from your bun. Finding a blank page in your notebook to write down Bob's order. 

Realistically you didn’t need to write Bob's order down. You knew it off by heart, you just liked having an excuse to talk to the cute naval aviator that would go out of his way to stop by after whatever shift he’d just come off or was about to start to order some less than mediocre food from the 24hr diner your uncle owned and operated for the last twenty years. 

“What’s it usually? A medium coffee to go, bacon and eggs with a side of toast and beans?” Bob couldn’t help but to chuckle softly. A beautiful crimson red crept across the apples of his cheeks that let you know he felt a little gooey on the inside that you’d memorised his order. 

First you started off just saying hi to him bye to him that'll be $5.95 to him but Bob didn't really mind, that was always alright with him, he just smiled and ate. He’d watch you float around and clean the counter. Admiring from afar. 

Sometimes the two of you might not have spoken for like a week, you knew in Bob's quiet times he liked to be alone and write a poem with his headphones on—so you’d let him do just that and admire from afar. 

“Uh—can I change it up a little today?” Bob asked as he rubbed the back of his neck. The longer he kept you standing there, looking all kinds of perfect—the longer he had to work up the courage to ask you out. “If that isn’t too much trouble?” 

“Sure thing Lieutenant Floyd.” You say almost delighted that you get to stay a little while longer. “What can I get ya this morning?” 

“A Newspaper please? bacon, a fried or poached egg, whatever’s easiest and a slice of toast, long black too if the coffee is any good today.”  The beans were always burnt, Bob thought to himself after having ordered them time and time again. And he knew if the cup was dirty you would just clean it with your shirt.

He couldn’t help but to wonder if you were his ideal girl, and what would happen if you dated in the real world. ‘Nah’ He shook the thought from his mind, he didn't think it would work. Bob wouldn't wanna risk what you have and have to tip 'cause of that. 

“Coming right up—“ You nodded and placed your pen back in your bun and tucked your order pad into your apron. “I’ll bring your coffee out first.” 

“Thanks.” It had been like this for months. The both of you were too afraid to make the first real move, so the move never came. Lieutenant Robert Floyd was one of your three regulars and the only one who’d managed to steal your heart. There was no way he ate here day in and day out just for the food—if he did he was crazy. But regardless you kept entertaining his foolishness. Wondering if he’d ever work up enough courage to just make a move. 

“Alright, one black coffee for you Bob.” You wanted to say that the food wouldn’t be too far away but you knew Bob would know that you were lying. It always took forever.

“Amazing, thank you so much Y/n, I feel like I’ve been up since forever.” Bob sighed as you carefully poured him a cup of fresh coffee. Placing the freshly brewed pot down on the table as you mulled over your next question. It wasn’t like you to be so forward, but you simply had nothing better to do. 

“Do you mind if I sit with you?” You asked as you watched the way Bob raised his eyebrows at your question. “I don’t mean to impose—I just don’t have an awful lot to be doing right now and I’d rather sit and talk then just think about talking to you from behind the counter.” Bob thought his head was going to explode with how hot he was running. 

You? Sitting with him? Could he just give you his last name already? 

“Uh—yeah no by all means.” Bob tried to hide the probably overbearing and possibly psychotic grin that threatened to consume his face as he watched you slide into the chair across from him. Sighing with relief that you were finally off your feet. “You work here every day don’t you?” 

“Yep.” You popped the p as you let your chin fall into your hand as your elbow prompted you up on the table. “Feels like one big eternal shift.” You explained as Bob took a sip of his coffee. Hiding the fact he wanted to splatter at the bitterness. “I’m sure my diner delirium is nowhere near as exciting or as thrilling as being a pilot for the navy though.” You gestured down to Bobs flight suit—this had been the longest conversation the two of you had ever had and Bob thought his heart was going to beat through his chest: 

He was infuriated with your smile, the effortless way it could be the brightest thing in the entire diner. He loved your laugh—for the very few times he’d been blessed with the sound of it. Surely it was the very sound that people were blessed with when they entered the gates of heaven. Then there was your hair. So uniquely gorgeous that he saw it in his dreams, dancing across the white satin pillow cases of Bob's bed. 

“Oh I’m not a pilot.” Bob corrected you with a humble glint in his eye. Swirling baby blue oceans that completely captivated your heart. “I’m a weapons systems officer.” Just as you were going to ask for more detail, more information—the sound of the little orders up bell rang out through the empty diner. 

“I’ll be right back with your food weapons system officer Floyd.” You beamed, sliding out and sauntering off towards the pass. Bob turned his attention around to follow you—his eyes lingered down from your neck to your back to the swell of your ass, he blushed a bashful hume of crimson red when he felt his flight suit rise in his crotch. You were perfect. His ideal girl and Bob didn’t even know you. 

Bob had to pretend he was looking at the light fixtures above your head when you turned on your heels, his order in hand and folded newspaper under your arm. 

“Orders up Flyboy—“ You chuckled as you sat back down. “So, what does being a weapons system officer entail?” No one had really asked Bob that question before, so as he looked down at the mediocre meal he’d ordered and chuckled softly to himself at how surreal this moment felt—he couldn’t help but to look at you like you hung all the stars in the night sky just for him. “What?” You smiled. 

“Nothing—“ Bob beamed back at you, his cheeks flushed and ever telling. “It’s nothing.” 

“Tell me what you're thinking right now.” You demanded through a grin so pure it stole Bob's heart, he watched as your hand crept across to steal a slice of slightly burnt toast off his plate. The moment you took a bite Bob knew he was in love with you—his mysterious diner waitress. Like you’d cast some sort of spell on his mortal body, Bob felt himself giving in, falling weak on his knees at the idea of spending every waking moment getting to know you more. 

“I uh—I was just thinking that I think I’m in love with you.” You froze, not expecting the shy eyed man sitting across from you to expose himself so openly. It was endearing though. “I’m so sorry—that was really out of pocket.” 

“No no!” You tried to hide the fact your head was filling with all the little scenarios you’d daydreamed about while working. Thinking of the future and what it would be like if Bob was really your future husband. “I uh, I don’t mind actually.” 

“Really?” Bob let out a sigh of relief as he looked at you across the table with all the love in the world dripping from his baby face. 

“Yeah, yeah I’m sure—“ You took another bite of the triangle but of toast before swallowing. “I think I might be in love with you too.” 

***~***~***~***~***~***~***~

“He used to come into mummy’s diner baby.” You explained. “When uncle Roger used to own it, before it was really good.” 

“Dad says uncle Roger can’t cook to save his life.” Your daughter countered as you felt Bob come to stand behind you, his hand snaked up across your hip before he was kissing your cheek.  

“Dad stands by that statement.” Bob added as he smiled against your skin, floral notes of jasmine and amber rose filled his senses. “He lost ten pounds from eating your uncle's food every day just so he could talk to mama.” 

“Could have just asked me out on a date, Flyboy—“ You teased, turning to kiss your husband softly. Bob hummed a laugh against you as your daughter climbed into your arms. 

“Ah, that would’ve been too easy.”

***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~

Leah’s 4k celebration 🎊

[avellanaslesbianas]

daddy why did you eat my fries

[adventuretimetournament]

Fries

First sung by: Marceline in "It Came from the Nightosphere"

Daddy, why did you eat my fries? I bought them, and they were mine But you ate them, yeah, you ate my fries And I cried, but you didn't see me cry

Beat Box Free Style Rap

First sung by: Flame Princess and Cinnamon Bun in "Bun Bun"

Finn the human, wears a bear hat, Someday he'll be old and fat. Unless he is immortal, or a turtle, 'Cause turtles always look old. Oh! Turtles got told, by me, Phoebe, pure gold.