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#don’t really know how to get into it (and i wouldn’t on tumblr anyways) but uh yea :)
licorice-tea · 23 hours
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Seaside Rendezvous
Pairing: Vinsmoke Sanji x reader
Content: fluff, a little angst, unrequited feelings/ miscommunication, not rlly unrequited
Word Count: 0.6k
A/N: Heyyyyyy….. it’s been a while, huh? life has been busy and difficult and amazing and everything in between, but i just wanted to post something (even if i feel like it’s not my best work😓) i might be more active after like 2 weeks, but it’s also finals season rn :o anyway, miss you guys and miss writing! looking forward to getting back into tumblr, and i hope you enjoy!
It’s a clear and overwhelmingly blue sort of day. You walk along the beach, beneath a cloudless sky, which creates calm waters to push gently foaming waves onto the shoreline. They soak your feet while you amble on, shoes in one hand and a single bag of groceries in the other. And Sanji’s signature blue pinstripe shirt makes him look even more picturesque than usual- a perfect man against a perfect backdrop.
He’s less than an arms distance to your right, with at least 4 bags in each hand, plus a tote under his arm. But you feel there is no point in offering to hold a few, since he had already refused when you initially left the market. That was half an hour ago, and you’ve been merely contemplating your feelings up till now. You’ve always felt something for Sanji, it’s just hard to say what exactly. He flirts so shamelessly and often that understanding your own emotions is nearly impossible. Are they a matter of genuine affection (beyond friendship), or simply flare-ups of lust inspired by how much he seems to want you?
Even if you could know how you truly feel for Sanji, your longtime crew mate and friend, it wouldn’t matter for that very reason. If anything, it might be worse to know how real your affections for him are than it is to continue pushing them to the back of your mind silent, contemplative moments.
But Sanji makes that impossible, too.
“What’s on your mind?”
Your eyes leave the sand to meet his mirth- crinkled eyes. “Nothing, why?”
He manages to shrug beneath the weight of the groceries. “You were being quiet, that’s all.”
“Oh, sorry.”
“Don’t be, dearest.”
You avert your eyes before mumbling, “Are you sure you don’t want help with those bags?”
“I don’t need help, but thank you. And,” he smiles a little brighter, “I’d hate to ever burden you, love.”
“Sanji, don’t say things like that.”
“Oh? I thought you enjoyed my terms of endearment for you.”
You shake your head no. “Not if they aren’t serious.”
Sanji’s expression turns from content, to confused, then surprised, while he slowly comes to a stop. Once you’ve notice he’s no longer walking by your side, you turn back in time to see him finally settle on a gleeful smile.
“You’d like it… if you knew I was serious?”
“W-Well… I guess, yeah. Not that I-“
“Because I am serious about you. I always have been, really.”
Now you’re the one who’s confused. “What?”
He rushes to drop the groceries, followed by the tote bag on his shoulder, and approaches you. Sanji guides you to drop your own load, too, before taking your hands in his.
“Would you be mine?”
“Sanji, you’re being ridiculous now…”
“I’m being genuine. Why, you don’t want to?”
“Well I mean, I would if I could, but I can’t. We can’t.” You let go of his hands and pick up your shoes and singular grocery bag, then straighten up and look into his eyes. He smiles sadly, and you just smile back before walking on.
He knows you don’t mean to hurt his feelings, especially since you seem to barely believe that said feelings for you could be real or serious. But it does hurt a little. Sanji sighs as he picks up his bags. He follows you and watches your hair bounce with your steps.
For now, he’d have to be content with letting his imagination run away with thoughts of loving you.
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viatrix-glow · 9 months
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very quick narus
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storytellering · 7 months
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hey man love ur stuff. i was wondering if youd considered posting some of ur art on ao3? ive seen more ppl doing that lately, since ao3 isnt gonna ban "adult content." id love to follow u on twitter but i had to quit using that god forsaken app awhile ago lmao
Hey!
I honestly don’t plan to do that, truth be told I was initially very hesitant to publicly link my ao3 to my art account at all tjfk writing is a skill I’ve only just started brushing up on (I’ve always done it, but never seriously and not with the intent of making stuff that was to be seen by the public, and definitely haven’t studied it the way I have art) and it’s taking me a bit, still, to not feel embarrassed enough by everything I put out to not even want my name on it. I’d rather keep my art and my writing separate! If I were to I would have to make an account specifically for that, but honestly, that would only come if I felt the need to archive my stuff and not actively partecipate in the community anymore? I don’t know how to explain it. Obviously I’m still gonna keep posting my stuff even if Twitter crumbles, I’m trying to find an equivalent alternative still, and I don’t blame anyone for wanting to leave that dumpster fire, I’m just the kind of person who’s very hesitant to leave a place once I’ve figured out how it works - I honestly don’t know where else to put my nsfw if it does crumble into dust, tho. I might start posting previews on Tumblr with links to privatter in that case (they say they don’t allow nsfw but until they actively come down and delete my posts themselves, honestly, I’m gonna treat it like it is ok. After all all my posts there come with a disclaimer warning about 18+ themes and every potential CW present in the image so, I don’t think there’s anything morally wrong with that.)? I think I’ll see about that once it really comes to it. Terribly sorry if that locks anyone out! For what it’s worth, the full pieces of my nsfw are still on privatter so if you can access them there they’re still gonna be available, and for regular art I have here, bluesky, and misskey. (And Instagram, though I try to be as non-controversial there as possible because I’m honestly kinda terrified of the large anti presence there hfjfkf, so I don’t post most of my ship art there.)
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valentimmy · 1 year
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i feel like shit these days lmfao.
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On David Tennant and Aging
So, I’ve seen a lot of posts in response to Tumblr users’ habit of affectionately calling their favorite middle aged dudes “old men”, David Tennant in particular, saying things like “clearly you’ve never met an actual old person”, “omg you talk about these guys like they’re 80”, “please be normal about people aging”, etc. And on one hand, all of these statements are objectively right and true! But as someone who’s always been really fascinated by and found a lot of beauty in getting older (which I’ve explored in some of my writing on A03 because nobody else is going to do it for me), I’d like to provide a bit more nuance on how I think this label applies to David in particular.
David, obviously, in literal terms, is not “old”, at least not to me- I don’t personally consider people old until they get past 60. 52 is middle aged, simple as that. And yet, when I see David stuck with the “old man” label, it still somehow feels weirdly right, for a number of reasons.
It annoys me so much when people say David “hasn’t aged a day since Doctor Who”, because, well…
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He clearly has. A lot. He’s got forehead creases, deep crows’ feet and eyebags, and I think that post-Fourteen we’re gonna see him rocking the grey temples a LOT more. He also has the voice of an older man now, his upper range is still there but the default is much more deep and rich, with a gravelly, rumbling quality that just goes straight through you. I personally think Broadchurch was when David finally started to embrace looking his age- Alec Hardy just wouldn’t have been served by Ten’s fresh-faced boyishness.
Obviously, these are the kinds of changes you’d expect any 52-year-old man to have, but something about David just makes it all seem a bit more… intense? The expressiveness of his face combined with his almost gaunt frame makes his wrinkles very prominent, and when he works his voice to its emotional extremes, his lower register can sound positively ancient, to devastating effect.
David, I think, is someone with an old soul- I don’t think he could be as good as he is at playing ancient characters like Crowley and The Doctor if he weren’t. He has lived so many lives, given so much of himself to so many characters, often incredibly tragic ones, and I think it wears on him. David also has five kids. FIVE. Do you know how exhausting it is to be one of the hardest working actors alive and be a present, loving father to even ONE child? But David somehow does it anyway! Nowadays I see him and my heart breaks because he looks so tired, so weary and fragile. But he’s all the more beautiful for it to me because I know that that is because he is kind. He’s a deeply empathetic person who feels and lives to the absolute fullest, and that story is written so clearly on his face, along with every other story he has ever been a part of.
There’s other things about David that make the label endearingly fitting- his utter hopelessness when it comes to technology, for instance. And he’s just got that warm, wise, grandpa energy too sometimes- look at that above Fourteen picture and tell me I’m wrong!
I once showed my friend who’d only seen David in Doctor Who and Harry Potter a picture of David from Around The World in 80 Days. It was a particularly emotional scene, and his face had just the most beautiful expression of compassion and sadness, every wrinkle on full display. And she said, in a less than complimentary fashion, “he looks so old!” Which, of course, offended me quite a bit at first. But to me, referring to David as old almost feels like a badge of honor, something he’s earned by living fully and selflessly, working hard and being wise and compassionate beyond his years. I think David himself is secretly more than a little insecure about the fact that he’s getting older. There’s sadness behind every jovially self-depreciating remark he’s made about his age in the past year, particularly in comparing himself to Ncuti Gatwa. I know how much David struggles with his impostor syndrome and how people perceive him, and I can clearly see in his eyes the fear of being discarded, the anxiety he feels about if he’ll still be as loved as he was back in 2007 now that he’s closer in age to King Lear than he is to Romeo. So I hope David knows it’s a privilege to watch him grow older, to watch his soul and talents deepen with the crinkles around his eyes. If I, in my silly goofy tumblr girl-ness, call David Tennant an old man, it’s because it’s a label that suits him beautifully- even if it isn’t TECHNICALLY an accurate one yet.
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unpretty · 5 months
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please imagine these bullet points as a series of posts made over the course of a semester in 2015, copied from the tumblr tag i made specifically to bitch about my econ/business government and society professor:
lmao econ prof arguing against the fda
we are also supposed to subscribe to the wall street journal for this class ahahaha like hell
I spoke up about this godawful climate change article and about how literally every fact I tried to check was wrong, he tried to argue that wasn’t the point of the article but it totally was
“Does anyone watch Fox News” this class in a nutshell
the professor in the class i hate is talking about how jesus would love capitalism because it has lifted so many people out of poverty
he’s complaining about progressive income tax lmao god i hate this class
LET THE FREE MARKET DECIDE unless the free market makes an anti-corporate decision, then consumers have been misinformed and the activists responsible should be ashamed of themselves
I hope everyone’s ready for Shitty Class Liveblogging because now he’s claiming that gas prices will never go back up and gas will always be cheap from now on and also peak oil is a lie
Now he’s talking about the story of Jonah and the whale as relates to this article he saw in the Wall Street Journal. Across the class, I see a girl squint into the middle distance and mouth the word, “what.”
“is it okay to fire a pizza delivery person who doesn’t want to drive to a bad neighborhood”
this is the literal worst and most bullshit explanation of utilitarianism I have ever experienced oh my god. for the purposes of this class we are supposed to ignore ‘for the greatest number’ as an aspect of utilitarianism. just. completely altering the basic foundation of utilitarianism as an idea. apparently the free market didn’t like the actual definition so they changed it.
THIS PROFESSOR IS PRO-ENRON I AM NOT EVEN KIDDING RIGHT NOW THIS IS A REAL THING #FREE MARKET IT WAS LEGAL FREE MARKET
“I don’t think we have very many people in the United States dying because they couldn’t afford medication” actual quote from this professor right now
lmao i’m in the class i hate, he’s complaining about net neutrality now
This just in: poor people are poor because they make bad decisions, the wealth gap can be eliminated by teaching poor people how to play the stock market. This is a real thing that he apparently gives presentations about. He gets paid to tell people this.
Shitty professor isn’t going to be there tomorrow but he wants us to come in anyway to listen to a lecture on CD. Not one of his, just generally. Like, a home learning thing he bought. We asked if he could just put it on Blackboard but he said he didn’t know how to put a CD on Blackboard.
lmao I fucking knew this was the great courses. this professor is off at a conference telling people to teach the poor to trade stocks and he’s just having us sit here listening to an audiobook course he paid for about philosophy.
shitty professor is arguing the necessity of child labor in third world countries because otherwise the children would starve and be prostitutes. yes those are definitely the only two options.
oh my god he just argued that the rich are a minority protected by the constitution
I was really embarrassed about getting a 67 out of 85 on this Business, Government, and Society test but then it turned out the class average was 40 and I got the highest grade in the class. My strategy of always picking the answer I find most morally reprehensible is going well for me.
Monopolies aren’t actually that bad! Also, unions are monopolies, which is bad. (i was the only one who got a lot of the essay questions right so I had to read them in class it was awful)
libertarian economist professor gets really emotional about animals and i think he just argued that if elephants were privately owned they wouldn’t be poached because no one poaches cows
It’s my last week in the class I hate before finals and I’m pretty sure he’s arguing that the Enron scandal happened because there was too much government regulation
oh my god he’s arguing that enron was trying to do california a favor by pointing out a flaw in their system (by exploiting it) h my god he’s not even addressing the fraud in their accounting this whole class has been leading up to his passionate defense of fucking enron
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mactavishsgfandwife · 3 months
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141 When They’re Sick
bilingual privilege is using your second language to scribble down notes for your tumblr fanfiction in class with the reassurance that no one else will be able to understand what you’re writing 😋 pure fluff (not proofread)
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Johnny ‘Soap’ Mactavish
soap has such man flu vibes
i just know he will have a little cold from never dressing appropriately for the english weather (he thinks he can tough it out) (he can’t) and then lays on the sofa for a week, miserable and constantly pining for your attention
he loves a cup of tea when he’s sick but he also swears that irn bru has magic restorative qualities, and "that’s how i keep m’physique, bonnie"
Johnny groans, rubbing his face with his palm as he lays stretched out over the sofa, his feet resting on one arm and a hot water bottle flopped lazily over his stomach. For the most part, the grunts and sighs seem genuine, but you could swear that he makes sure to emphasise his suffering when you walk past, just to let you know what a big strong boy he’s being for dealing with his sore throat and slight headache.
"Head hurts…" he groans, holding a forearm over his eyes to shield them from the light.
"I know, honey… you want a paracetamol?" you pat his head, trying to hide your little, sympathetic laugh.
"Nah, only just had one… Y’could gimme a kiss, though," he grinned up at you, his tone lightening a little.
"Ew! Stop, I don’t want your germs," you laugh, pulling your hand away from his hair.
"Aww, c’mon… might make me feel better," Johnny teases, sitting up a little (he wasn’t really that weak in the first place) and holds your wrist so you can’t escape. When you see the stupid, irritating grin on his face, you know you don’t really care about germs. You just want to kiss him.
Captain John Price
price, when he’s feeling ill, likes to be looked after - the number one cure for ANY of this man’s problems is a warm bath
he loves it when you act like a little housewife for him, running him a warm bath and bringing him a constant stream of cups of tea - sometimes he’ll pretend to be sicker than he is for a little longer than he has to just for a day or two more of being doted on by you. not that you don’t do that anyways.
but he’s a menace when you try to go off shopping or to work - he lays a strong, hairy arm over you, mumbling something about being sick and needing you to stay
if you massage his back and shoulders when he’s feeling sick, he will be so happy. it takes a little longer than when he rubs your back because there’s just more of him, with his broad shoulders and muscular dad-bod (yum)
You have John laying on his front, on the bed, arms crossed under his head. His hair is damp, getting the bedsheets a little wet beneath him, and he has a soft white towel wrapped loosely around his hips - he smells strangely like lavender (he definitely used your shower gel instead of his because yours is nicer - you pretend not to notice, as your hands gently move up and down his sore back).
He’s managed to come down with a bad cold the day after an intense workout, so his body is totally exhausted and nothing really appeals to him other than laying down. Being as fit as he is, you wouldn’t expect him to be in such a state, but the man needs a break and it’s plain to see.
The soft light from the nice-smelling candles that you’ve lit on the bedside table plays in his wet hair, which you gently comb your fingers through.
"You been using my products again, hmm?" you grin with a gentle tone, leaning in closer to him.
"Sorry love…" he starts to respond, his voice a little hoarse.
"It’s okay," you laugh softly, nuzzling your face into his back as you lower yourself on top of him, like a weighted blanket. Your soft hands wrap gently around his scarred sides, as little sighs of contentment leave your mouth.
"What happened to my back rub?" he teases, feeling your body laying against him. Still, he doesn’t a muscle to stop you from cuddling up to him.
As you keep quiet, enjoying the warmth of his body, he chuckles and pulls himself into a more comfortable position below you.
"That’s alright, sweetheart…" he replies to your silence.
Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley
simon would try to be an unphased tough guy but he’d have little moments of weakness
he’d insist that he’s not that sick while taking paracetamol and drinking tea constantly, pulling you close to him as often as he can and being clingier than usual (he’s always touchy, but he is particularly reliant on you now)
he’s in a terrible mood, but just resting his head on your shoulder or holding you while you work helps him… better yet, he loves it when you’re sitting on the sofa and working on your laptop, or watching a film, and he gets to lay down with his head in your lap - with your soft fingers occasionally brushing through his short hair
he’s a tough guy, but when it’s just you and him, he can just lay down with his girl without worrying about being ghost. he’s just simon - poorly simon, with his sweet girlfriend taking care of him.
Phone in your hand, you quietly text your friend about her crazy ex boyfriend and the dress that she’s going to wear out tonight - the red one or the other red one, with the different neckline? You look up to the doorway to see a tall, tired man walk into the sitting room - 6’4", dressed in an old grey hoodie and a pair of pyjama bottoms, ruffling his hair and looking utterly exhausted.
"Thought you were asleep, Si…"
"Can’t sleep," he mumbles gruffly, silently moving towards you and finding a spot to lay his head - right in your lap, his feet resting on the opposite arm of your big sofa.
Understanding his fatigue, you sigh softly and stroke his head as it lays against you. His skin is pale, showing his sickness, and his eyes look tired and dry. A little groan escapes his lips as he shuffles on the sofa, trying to make himself comfortable.
"Love you, darling…" he whispers softly, his eyes shutting in preparation to finally sleep.
Kyle ‘Gaz’ Garrick
i feel like kyle’s love language is food
if you make that man a curry or a good spag bol, he will secretly be making plans to propose to you as he eats it
and that’s all the more true when he’s ill or tired out - some comfort food home cooked by you would mean the world
Gaz had a bad cold and had been hibernating in bed all day, mostly asleep but occasionally watching the football or texting Soap to complain about how sick he is. As you walked into the room, brandishing a bowl of spaghetti carbonara, his eyes lit up.
"Hey, what’s this?" he grins, his voice a little hoarse.
"Carbonara. For you," you chuckle, placing it down on his bedside table, "I have some work stuff to finish, I-"
"Y’could just stay with me instead. I’ve been locked up in here all day," he teases.
"You’ve been asleep all day! I really need to… well…"
"Come on, baby."
You struggle to hide the grin that’s creeping onto your face, not wanting to procrastinate your work any longer (this wasn’t the first time Kyle has stolen you away from typing up emails) but he got what he wanted when, a moment later, you were cuddled up to him. Wearing his tshirt and your underwear, with your head resting on his shoulder.
"Oh my God, this is so good!" he chuckles, eating, voice still strained from the sore throat. He’s mostly just happy to have you next to him (oh, as well as the pasta).
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gaz is my babyyyyyyy i don’t think you guys get it 😣😣😣 this took an age and a half to write i hope it’s up to standard thanks for reading!! xx
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the-stray-pup · 2 years
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Jfc I wrote a novel in this one 🙃
#the stray rants#welcome to part two because I’m just that fucked up in the head#tw for literally everything dark because i don’t read my own mind and don’t know what’s gonna go down here#how important is staying clean?? cause I feel like it’s not that important when I know how to control it well you know…#no one would even notice if I did it I mean they never do and if they do they don’t say anything which I mean even better for me right??#and it’s not like anyone I talk to cares about whether or not I stay clean because I wouldn’t tell them anyway#not that they would care if I even did because no one listens to me anyway. I’m always just talking to myself with no one caring about what#i say. i mean y’all don’t even give a fuck about what I’m saying in here I bet. I bet no one is even reading this and if someone is then#it’s only like one person who once again does not give a fuck. i mean why would anyone care about me? this is the internet. everyone is just#worried about getting off and rubbing one out on here. who cares about some little depressed complainer who hardly has any friends and#complains more than he posts?? i mean seriously I bet everyone wouldn’t give a fuck if I suddenly disapeared from tumblr because they wouldn#even notice. and why would you? I’m not important whatsoever. a lot of people would be glad if I were dead I bet because so many people dont#like me anyway so they’d be happy to see me gone. everything would just be better if I was gone. i wouldn’t have to worry about anything evr#again and I’d finally be able to not feel all this negative shit that hold me back and hopefully I’d reincarnate into a cis guy and actually#be happy for once in my useless life. wouldn’t that be amazing?? I’m so fucking unloved because no one gives a fuck about me. no one cares#about anything I have to say. i have friends but are they really friends?? i doubt they actually like me because most of them don’t act like#they do. i mean why the fuck would anyone like me in any way shape or form? there’s nothing to like about me and I don’t even know how I hav#a platonic partner because I’m annoying anyway. and I’m no fun and boring and stupid and worthless and don’t deserve to be speaking to any1#i just want to die. is that too much to ask for?? i don’t want to be here anymore. i fucking hate it. nothing is ever going to get better.#I’m always going to be alone and feel lonely and feel like everyone hates me. this feeling is never going to go away and I’m always going to#hate myself because I deserve to be hated. I’m such a terrible person who doesn’t deserve to be happy. i wish I could be happy but I won’t b#I’m never going to find someone who I feel comfortable with in person. especially because I hardly know any trans people and definitely have#never actually spoken to trans people face to face who would ever actually want to speak to me outside of the obligation of school shit so I#would have to deal with disgusting ass fetishy cis people who would only ever want me because I’m trans and that’s it and being trans is the#one thing that I hate most about myself because I’m just so uncomfortable in my body every single fucking day and I hate it and wish I was#never born. I’m so fucking unhappy. i hate it. i fucking hate everything and I have no one to talk to. i don’t even want to bother the peopl#i do talk to with this annoying as shit because why should I make them have to deal with my terrible moods when I don’t even want to??#i wish I could pass. and I wish my name was changed. and that I was on T. and I already had top and bottom surgery and that I couldb stealth#how much of this am I actually going to be able to handle? when is it gonna be my breaking point? why do I seem to hold more shit each and e#every time?? i just want this all to end and go away. that is all since this is the limit again I’m pretty sure
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saetoru · 4 months
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this blog is now archived !! find my MASTERLIST here !!
hi guys, and here’s a long overdue post that i wanted to take the time to make after collecting as many screenshots as i can for a lot of rumors that i think need to be addressed. before i do that, i wanted to apologize to all of my mutuals who ended up wrongfully harassed in their inboxes for simply knowing me—the irony of this issue being about bullying all the while people on this app have been simultaneously being genuinely awful to other writers who have zero involvement has been ridiculous.
i would’ve made this post sooner, but december was very busy—as you all know, i’ve been working with two separate companies for my capstone projects, and i had final presentations with boards to worry about. and then a cruise which was fun, but i was offline. now that i’ve finally had time to enjoy my break and collect my thoughts, i’d like to voice my own side to the discourse i’m sure you’ve all seen posted by @/garoujo, who is now @/gojoath.
first and foremost, i’ve been on tumblr for almost 4 years now, and while i may not have the brightest moments on here (no one will be spot-free in that amount of time), i’d like to think that if i actually went out of my way to vicious or bully people, this would’ve come to people’s attention a lot sooner. i’ve had a relatively large following across all 6 of my blogs in my time here, and while i don’t like to get into the metrics of my blogs, the reason i point this out is because i have willingly started my blog over 6 times. 3 of these were sfw blogs under my nickname tee, another 2 of which were my previous nsfw blogs under a different alias, and saetoru which is the current one, where i finally decided to combine my sfw and nsfw writing into one space. i just wanted to bring that up because i had quite a habit of leaving and restarting blogs before this one, and had i been obsessed with outperforming other writers in terms of follower counts, i would not have left the previous ones as often as i did. 
that being said, i’ll also go through a timeline of events and how they’ve snowballed into an issue that is not as one-sided as most of you might think. i’ve been mutuals with emmie since my first blog, and i’d been mutuals with her through most of her blogs as well. we’ve never really had issues until her last blog @/garoujo, which she’d started after deactivating @/atsymu due to discourse regarding racism accusations. the reason why we had a falling out was because i felt that there were a series of odd coincidences that felt slightly purposeful, but i was still questioning whether or not i was looking too deeply into it to actually point any of it out.
admittedly, when i saw her first set of banners, i felt our layouts were a slight bit similar, but i really didn’t mind too much because i had been planning to change my banners anyway because i was bored of them. so i took that as an opportunity to do so. it just so happened that within a day or two of every time i changed my banners, hers would be changed too—i never said i owned the color gray, and i even fully acknowledge that the last two sets of banners, at first glance, wouldn’t be a red flag. because, like i said, i was more uncomfortable with the pattern of coincidences than the actual layouts. then i switched to my instagram theme, and not long after, i noticed her add instagram story visuals to her navi. again, no one ever said instagram was my original idea, and that no one else could use it, but it was an unsettling feeling having the same moot continuously make changes around the same time as you, and changes that are different enough that you can’t exactly point out an issue, but slightly similar enough that you can’t exactly ignore the slight oddness.
coincidentally, the same day, another blog (who i will not name bc they’re not very active anymore and are also not very relevant to this story) made the same theme as me and i was a bit peeved because this same blog is someone who has copied a few other things from me and a handful of other moots, so i made a subpost on my moots-only personal blog at the time. keep in mind, i made this post fully aware that emmie was on this blog because i didn’t intend for that post to seem like it was about her. but she reached out to me, and i explained to her the situation, and i even provided the relevant screenshots to show my points. i still considered her a decently good friend at the time, and even with the slightly off feelings, i was still adamant about brushing them off and considering them coincidences that perhaps i was being a bit too critical of.
it wasn’t until i woke up a few hours later after changing my theme and going to bed that i noticed she’d then fully switched to the insta theme. again, instagram is an app used by millions and, at one point, was a very popular theme used amongst most people on this app. i’m not entitled enough to believe i was the first person to do it, but like i said. there are just off vibes most of us will not help but feel when a series of coincidences continue to happen back to back to back by the same person.
there were, amongst these things, a number of other small touches that made me feel off. most of them i don’t remember by now or have screenshots of, so i won’t bother to go into all of them, but for reference, one example i’d also like to point out that i’d had the phrase “you’ve reached the hanmas” in my inbox when she was still on @/atsymu, and sometime after, her sfw blog @/loveatsu had the phrase “you’ve reached the miyas.” small things like this are not things i make an issue over and am more than capable of brushing aside, but like i have said and will continue to push firmly is that i felt there were multiple instances of emmie, in particular, making small tweaks to her blog shortly after me that made me feel were not all coincidentally similar. the issue was never themes or thinking i am the first or only person to do something a certain way, the issue has always been me countless times feeling that one particular individual is exhibiting a behavior that is persistent and uncomfortable no matter how minuscule the instances may be. maybe they were really just unfortunate coincidences that happened with poor timing, or maybe they weren’t. but i stand by the fact that anyone in my shoes would be valid to question the timing of each of these events over and over again.
i would also like to bring up kinktober (though this happened a while after the rest of what i will get into) because this was the first public discourse that emmie and i got into due to an anon’s claims of similarities between our posts. i had received an anon who told me “i think someone copied your kinktober masterlist” which i answered to ask if they could let me know who. they had come back to say it was garoujo, and i did not reply to the ask, instead, i made a post to vaguely tell the anon that i appreciate them letting me know, but i will just leave it be and continue on with my kinktober regardless of emmie’s mlist. i do think there were some vague similarities, but honestly not enough to really question it, so i figured a confrontation or issue was not necessary. a while later, several moots had messaged me to let me know they had received anonymous asks saying to “block @/garoujo she copied @/sakusins and she’ll copy you too” (or something along those lines, i don’t remember exactly.) i myself was very confused (and upset) by the situation because i did not, and still would not, want to be publicly name-dropped in other people’s inboxes over issues that do not involve them. unfortunately, it led to some not-very-kind asks to both of us, and while i am sorry she had to deal with that, it is not an apology from a sense of culpability. that situation was, and still is, entirely out of my control. i would not have seen the masterlist unless the anon had mentioned it, and i did not take part in having people send asks about her to other writers. especially not in a manner that was pretty much social suicide for me as well. 
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(this is a poorly made collage i know lol but i hit the picture limit bear with me here.)
i would also like to point out that i am not the only individual who has had issues with emmie and feels she had copied them. although i cannot disclose urls (they have been blocked out for privacy reasons) here are a few conversations i have had with my own mutuals, and i would wager there are more people whom i haven’t talked to who also feel this way. they might be small enough instances that sparking issues over them was not worth it to all of these people, therefore she has never heard from people herself about this issue, but the point does still stand that this claim about emmie is not one i alone make, and is one that i have heard countless times before. her never being approached by these individuals for the sake of peace doesn’t erase that they have been, and are, upset by these events, and it’s a habit that she seems to continually partake in. i would also like to link this post where she has been called out by another writer while she was still atsymu, which was posted while we were still friends. i’ve actually had a discussion with emmie about that post, and at the time, i had quickly skimmed the post and felt it was perhaps a reach, but after my own experiences, i went back to reread the post and considered perhaps there was validity to it, and that this might not be a one time occurrence. plagiarism in manners such as this will always have conflicting opinions, and it is hard to sometimes tell if something is a coincidence, a popular and overused idea, or something that has actually been copied. my point is that a number of people have all felt that perhaps there is a good chance this was not an accident, and please consider that so many instances of people feeling this way might suggest that there is a certain degree of validity to the claim.
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at the beginning of all of this, when the masterlist banners had first started bothering me, i was upset, and i chose to vent to an ex-moot of mine who most of you would recognize as munsonsins. abby has deactivated a long while ago, but she’s relevant to this because i had chosen to vent to her at the time, and this is more or less what later caused this situation to escalate. at the time of venting to her, i knew she wasn’t mutuals with emmie because, as you can see, she’d told me as such. 
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one thing i would like to point out is that there were a handful of people i had vented to about my frustrations with emmie, but one thing i had always been mindful of was ensuring these were a) individuals who i considered close friends and not just random individuals, and b) were not friends or moots with emmie in the event that i accidentally made people who she cared about think lesser of her. had abby been mutuals with emmie, i would not have shared my feelings, and once again, i was not loose-lipped enough to just tell anyone because they’d listen. i told abby in particular because i had felt we were sufficiently close individuals who talked one-on-one and were able to vent to each other. a bit after i vented to her, though, she befriended emmie, which i had no such issues with because abby was/is her own person and is an adult who can interact freely and befriend whoever she wanted/wants to. 
not long after that, on the night before eid (this detail is relevant in the future) an ex moot of mine @/kazuwhora reached out to me. if you guys remember, there was a discourse last year that was all over dash about how writers on this app should be open to criticism. a lot of people (including me and kc) were upset by that sentiment—which is still valid. please don’t give constructive criticism to writers without their explicit permission !! but regardless, kc sent me a screenshot of a mutual of mine who had posted their opinion on this discourse, and their point was clearly that while constructive criticism is important in some aspects, writers do not have to be subject to receiving it should they not want to. unfortunately, i felt as if kc misunderstood what this individual was trying to say, and i was trying to explain it to her, but we got into a small argument over how we interpreted the post. i felt some of the things she was saying about this individual were inappropriate, and i had made it clear that i was very fond of this person, and it made me uncomfortable to be having this discussion. regardless of whether she saw my interpretation of the post or not, i wanted to drop the discussion, especially because it was the night before eid. eid is the one holiday i celebrate, and there are traditions i quite enjoy the night before, and i didn’t want them to be spoiled with a poor mood over a silly argument. unfortunately, she wasn’t very willing to drop the topic, and it ended up making me upset. so i posted this screenshot to my moots only personal from the conversation that consisted of my messages only and said, “tonight i had to explain what a debate is.” it was petty, perhaps, but very harmless, seeing as there was no context given and no names/pfps to indicate who the person was.
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truthfully, i had vented separately to cat, eris, and abby about this argument because i was friends with the three of them at the time, but needless to say, venting to your friends about arguments is a universal action, and i believe it is something all of us have partaken in. 
eventually, i decided to softblock emmie because i felt it would be more comfortable for me on my blog to do so. after a bit, i was informed of a subpost that seemed like it couldn’t be about anyone other than me—to make things clear, emmie subposting me was not my concern. i did not hold it against her because she is more than entitled to have her own feelings and vents on her own blog, but the thing that did concern me was that it seemed slightly evident that she was aware of my feelings when i had never explicitly had a conversation with her. it made me question who would tell her, and as you may have guessed, the only person with whom i had shared my concerns who could also be in contact with emmie was abby. 
at the time, eris had also voiced concerns that they had trusted abby with the ending of the plot for the diluc series they were planning, and coincidentally, one of abby’s friends had posted a fic idea eerily similar to their concept, to which abby had been commenting and reblogging more brainstormed ideas under. all of these ideas were very close to the plans eris had for their series plot, and understandably, they felt that it was not a mere coincidence that their entire plot was being brainstormed on dash by a person who was fully aware of their outline. i’d voiced my concerns with believing that abby may have also been sharing things i trusted her with, and as a result we both had made a few vague subposts that we liked from each other—a petty behavior, i will admit, but not something that i think is very out of the norm for a lot of people on this app. sometimes, we all just want to vent out our frustrations, and because we all more or less use tumblr as an outlet, these can sometimes be vaguely taken to dash. it’s not something that is ideally recommended (i’ve learned the hard way) but it’s also ?? not exactly something that only i’m guilty of, or is even a rare behavior. i think to shoot down one person for this behavior is quite frankly hypocritical. again, subposting isn’t a habit i would like to push as mature but it’s something i’d like to point out is very normal in this community, and is not something only i take part in. beyond that, i take to ensuring that whenever i do, i’m not explicitly exposing who i’m talking about in order to keep them out of unnecessary issues. 
after this conversation with eris, it kind of solidified in my mind that i did not want to trust abby with any more personal vents, or information, and i had ultimately decided to soft block her too. i had also decided to take the opportunity to softblock kc as well because i figured i might as well just remove individuals who i felt made me uncomfortable. this is, again, my right to do so to curate my own space. not long after, cat, eris, and i had been softblocked/hardblocked by a number of moots, and we were a bit confused, until cat ended up having a conversation with kc. many accusations were made about all three of us, more specifically, about me to kc by abby because the two of them had been discussing that they’d both been softblocked by me recently.
the list of accusations we were told of is as follows:
me, cat, and eris have a “burn book” where we “blacklist people.” it’s important to note that every time this discourse resurfaces (this is now the fourth time), the “burn book” has fundamentally changed in its composition—it has changed from a discord server “burn book”, to a google doc “burn book”, to the current rumor that it was an entire blog that was used as a “burn book.” it is consistently changed to fit whatever narrative is trying to be pushed, and regardless, the rumor itself is entirely untrue and has been addressed multiple times. cat has had a tumblr theme, a collab theme, and a server theme all dedicated to the film mean girls. she simply had a channel that was to share the urls of minors to block for interacting with nsfw works, or people who were anti-dark content—this is something that i have seen in all servers i’ve been in during my time on tumblr, and is not a new concept for many of you either. it’s simply a precaution a lot of servers take to warn writers about potential minors to block, and potential anti-dark content harassers. the name of this channel happened to be “the burn book” because it was a mean girls themed server, so the name just fit. nowhere in this channel were other writers in the community “blacklisted” or spoken negatively of, and here are the screenshots of the channel. this was simply something abby had twisted in order to paint us negatively. here is the link to cat’s post addressing it for proof and explanation (i run out of pictures or i would include them myself.)
abby also claimed that i was using this channel to talk poorly about kc and a handful of other moots. this is also false bc this server had several strangers (as it was cat’s server and i didn’t know all her moots), but it also had several of kc’s mutuals/friends in this server as well. i’m not so dense as to talk poorly about other writers publicly in a server, let alone a server i know has people who are friends with kc
now, this next part, emmie has conveniently painted out to be about me, as i apparently harassed and blacklisted people for liking itto from genshin impact, but i have been playing genshin for over a year on this app, and quite a large number of you are my own followers who see my rambles and my writing and i don’t have to explain that i have never written for itto, nor explicitly expressed an interest in him apart from perhaps one or two posts from back when i did his story quest. i never had, and still to this day, have no interest in the character itto. i’ve skipped his banner, i plan to skip his upcoming banners should they come, and i have never written for him, nor do i plan to write for him. this issue with itto is between eris and another individual, and i do not have the details to this, as i was new friends with eris at the time, and i’m no longer friends with eris as of current time. quite frankly, even if i knew the details, i wouldn’t go out of my way to share them because it has nothing to do with me. plain and simple.
as you can see, there were a number of rumors spread here to kc by abby, and as you can see, all of which led me to seem quite vicious in character. i’ve provided, to the best of my ability, screenshots and receipts of why each of these is quite drastically out of context and far from true to what abby has claimed. 
i did in fact, after these events confront abby because i was genuinely appalled by the way she knowingly and purposely twisted things conveniently to villainize me. she expressed that she was upset and paranoid by the subposts that she figured were about her once i’d soft blocked her, so i apologized for the posts. she had conversations with both me and cat about the rumors she’d started, and she also apologized for them to both me and cat.
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the rumors that emmie has claimed about me in her post, which she conveniently provided no evidence of, are all rumors that are more or less a result of my differences with abby and kc. unfortunately, despite cat trying her best to explain to kc the falseness of most of these rumors, she didn’t really believe them—which is her business. to each their own. i’m sure if i had been in kc’s shoes and in one night, someone i had considered a friend had been painted to do a series of nasty things behind my back, i also would not know what’s true and untrue, and she is entitled to piecing together what she believes is her truth. what’s not fair, however, is for emmie to have no involvement/understanding of these events apart from a twisted narrative she heard from one person and dog pile them into her claims of my behavior to further paint me as a villain. emmie is more than entitled to have her beliefs on my character based on her own experiences, which she has provided her own evidence of, but simply slapping an “and i heard she also….” does not necessarily make claims true, and is very manipulatively thrown into the post to add a list of things that make my character questionable to further validate her point. 
not only this, but she has made a point to openly admit that she and her friends have collectively mocked me for my relationship with my ex-boyfriend, who they have apparently labeled as my “fake” boyfriend that i used to get attention on this app. quite plainly, i get enough attention on my blog that i don’t need a fake boyfriend to amp that up. but furthermore, i am a south asian, muslim individual. my parents are immigrants with very strict religious and cultural beliefs that i feel are very restricting at times, and though i love my family, i struggle with my identity quite a bit as i live in a very western culture that clashes quite a bit with my cultural norms. i do not get to freely explore my sexuality or even romantic life in general, unlike some of you. my parents have been kept in the dark about my relationship because them knowing about it is something that could quite literally create a rift between us, and i find it very insulting and almost suspicious that a white girl is making a mockery of my cultural struggles and my personal life. many of you are either desi or muslim or simply children of strict immigrant parents with quite stubborn traditional views. i’m sure plenty of you understand where i’m coming from when i say that i have to keep my relationship hidden from the majority of the people around me. tumblr is the one place i can anonymously share bits and pieces of my life without worrying about if it will literally cost me my relationship with my parents, so sometimes i may have overshared silly or pointless things, but that is because it’s my own way of being able to express myself and my relationship the way i have always wanted to. apart from that, dragging and making a joke out of someone’s personal life is quite unnecessary in this case. the issue is about tumblr discourse, and i find it very hypocritical that i am being labeled a bully when people, more specifically a white and privileged individual, is plain and simple mocking and poking fun at my personal life and situation that i have no control of. that is my piece on that. whether some of you believe i had a partner or not is not my business, nor do i have to go out of my way to show you evidence of my personal life. what i will say, however, is that there are a handful of close friends i have on this app who are involved in my personal life and have seen evidence of my love life through pictures and private stories on social media. quite frankly, these are the only individuals who i have to justify the validity of my personal life to, and it’s honestly quite violating for someone to stoop to dragging someone’s outside life into issues about tumblr. i extend a very genuine fuck you to every single one of you that have ridiculed my personal relationship and just know that you are extremely bold to consider yourselves above bullying when this is the type of behavior you admit to engaging in. individuals with complex familial relationships, and identity struggles between cultural norms, their ethnicities, and the western world are not your playground to make a joke out of. some of us have very real struggles, such as not being able to pursue careers in favor of arranged marriages, not being able to pursue actual relationships that mean something to us due to a lack of familial approval, being forced to bear children at young ages due to familial pressure, and so on. they are not laughing matters, and are a part of my reality. and before some of you get started—yes, it really is that serious. i have struggled my entire life with having white girls poke fun and tease at my cultural norms, and i refuse to allow another white and privileged individual who already has a record of racially related discourse walk away with once more poking fun at my personal struggles and not be called out for it. i hope you had a good, long, satisfying laugh emmie.
onto my next points based on claims @/anantaru has made about me. the main thing i’d like to really point out here is that anantaru and i have never, not even once, interacted to the extent of my knowledge. they claim that cat and i cannot stand it when people cross us in numbers and that we go through people’s likes in order to find minors and blank blogs to explain all the notes. a) i am very bad at checking for minors and blanks in my own notes, so this is not even a logical approach on my end, but b) this claim is made because cat made this post under the tags of a post going around last year that asked to hear unpopular ficblr opinions.
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what cat means to articulate here is that sometimes, when she is scrolling on dash and interacting with moots and their shit/talk-posts, she peeks at profiles she sees in the notes and has happened to catch minors lurking. cat, firstly, has never followed anantaru, so they are not a “victim” to cat glancing at their likes, but secondly, this is not nearly as psychotic as it’s painted out to be. cat is not, and was not, jealous of other blog's notes. quite plainly, she’s not exactly a tiny blog either, and she’s only stumbled upon minors in the talks-posts of moots, including me. shit-posts/talks-posts are easy to notice minors lurking on, and while most people recognize that it’s quite impossible to catch every minor and ageless blog in writing posts with numerous notes, a simple shit-post on dash is more simple, and her unpopular opinion was simply that blogs that grow rapidly need to be better about catching those minors because they are susceptible to having more of them lurking. it’s a really harmless sentiment, and she’s gently reminded me as well on more than one occasion to be more responsible about my habit of being lazy when scouting for minors in my interactions. 
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this is not out of jealousy, nor is it some sick and twisted habit she has to “explain” why people get more notes than she might get. it’s also out of a place of concern for her own content ?? i myself and plenty of other large blogs reblog from mutuals, and they are well within their right to be concerned that perhaps minors are lurking on our pages and interacting with works we reblog from our mutuals. cat has voiced this concern to me before, also out of goodwill and simple concern for my content, her content, and minors in general. there is simply no need to twist it into her viciously looking down upon large blogs and their notes counts and claiming they’re “only because they don’t block minors.” admittedly, though, i do need to be better about catching minors, and i have always appreciated her trying to keep me in the habit of being responsible about it. more importantly, it was a small passing comment under a post of unpopular opinions, a lot of them were hot takes, and this is hardly a serious one to get so heated over. 
i’d also like to point out that anantaru has claimed we blocked them for being a gatekeeper and because we’re jealous of their notes. 💀. a) i am very grateful and very happy with the level of interaction i get on my writing, as more people than i imagine leave me countless comments and reblogs. i have never had an issue with comparing my interaction with that of other writers because i have always been abundantly content with the interaction i get. i have no other comment on this other than cat and i blocked anantaru at the same time because we happened to see a post of theirs reblogged onto our dash that made a joke that we felt was a bit insensitive to/alluded to SA—i’m sure it wasn’t meant to be taken that way, but it made us uncomfortable regardless. while we are both dark content supporters, and i myself have read more than one fic that includes noncon in particular, it doesn’t mean we have to like/enjoy everything related to it and we simply decided to block them. i’m not going to bring this post up bc it’s simply not important. they are an adult who is more than entitled to make jokes on their blog and cat and i do not have to like them !! we simply did what we were well within our rights to do, and that’s blocking them.
there’s more they go on to say about receiving hate asks and that apparently it’s because of our “group of friends.” cat and i don’t have a group of friends. i don’t have any group chats with her besides the one with her boyfriend because i get along with him sometimes as well, and we used to play genshin together a lot when i was in low ar. not that i have to explain my friendships here, but i quite literally do not have a group of people to “send after” anantaru because people are well aware of my close friends, who i text with my personal phone number. i’ve posted silly screenshots of convos on my blog multiple times, and none of these friends overlap because i do not have a “group” of friends, just individual friends who i talk to one on one. cat is not friends with my other friends, and my other friends are not friends with her. there are no inner circles that conspire together to send anyone hate because i “tell them to.” and if there are screenshots of me explicitly encouraging someone to send hate on anon, i would love to see it. if i had sent my anons after anantaru, it would have to be a public post, and i’m sure if there were a post of such nature, it would have been brought to light by now. they have also claimed they were given multiple urls of mine to block. i only have ONE writing blog, @/saetoru, and the only other two that are still up are archived blogs @/hanmine and @/katsuphilia, which are side blogs attached to saetoru and have been inactive for several months. there are however, multiple individuals on this app who also go by the name “tee,” and perhaps we have unfortunately been mixed up as the same person, but the only blog i have is saetoru, so there is no other active blog they have blocked me from that belonged to me and was able to harass them.
not only that, but anantaru has claimed that one person off anon sent them hate with a kaeya url which they insinuate to be me. once again, you are all more than aware of my history of urls, and many of you have all been here to see them. i’ve never once had a kaeya url, nor have i ever been particularly interested in kaeya outside of a small number of posts on a rare occasion. my genshin favorites have always been characters from sumeru and, at one point diluc, and once again i don’t have to ?? explain my selfships to you all ?? but literally, i have nothing to do with a kaeya blog or kaeya account, and im unsure why it’s being thrown into my name. quite frankly, i’m not sure  what their moot has told them we have said about them, but the only conversations cat and i have ever had about anantaru was that one about the noncon joke, and that’s it. outside of that, there is literally no evidence of us speaking about this person because it simply doesn’t exist. 
i implore you all to, instead of starting public discourse over things you hear, confirm them first. had anantaru reached out to me or cat and expressed that they are upset that we are supposedly spreading false rumors about them gatekeeping, then whatever misunderstanding it might have been could have been cleared. i would like to also point out that it is not above bullying when you simply dump numerous accusations that you have heard through half whispers from moots and provide 0 evidence for them. i am perfectly aware of why emmie may consider herself to have issues with me, but i have never had an encounter with anantaru, and truthfully, i’ve never actually even read their writing before. my main (and pretty much only) experience with them is seeing the joke i saw reblogged onto my dash, and as i stated earlier, the only thing i did for that was block and move one.
and lastly, the other point i’d like to make is that numerous blogs who i have been objectively very kind to have come out to take the opportunity to stomp on my character and reputation. for example, tumblr user @/osaemu, who used to follow me and interact with me quite often. i have always been excited to interact with her because she was really supportive of my gojo writing, and at one point, i had a small area of concern with her using the same exact title as me for a gojo fic. below are screenshots of our conversation regarding the titles.
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i am quite confident that this is a very polite interaction, and i was very clear that i didn’t think that her writing elements, including gojo’s parent dynamics and his dynamics with the reader, were copied or even something that i felt she needed to change. i pointed them out as a way of indicating that between these parallels and between the fact that i know she reads my rb! gojo series, i find it difficult to believe that our fic titles being exactly the same is a coincidence, and it made me uncomfortable—my concern was not how she wrote gojo’s parents or his dynamic with reader. i never accused her of stealing ideas that were mine alone to use, all i simply wanted to do was shed light on the fact that based on these parallels, i figured the names being the same was a touch difficult for me to brush aside as a chance similarity. i was very clear to outline that i know these dynamics and themes in writing are generic, and that people can pull inspo from them because i have done the same thing. my only concern was the title, which i politely asked her to change, and she agreed. case closed. i have been, again objectively, quite kind to osaemu, and i had no intentions of blocking her like a moot had suggested because i felt it was a very silly issue to block over since she was very lovely to me. 
i did, however, block her because she posted one-paragraph posts with multiple characters tagged. that’s not a crime on her end, and i’m certainly not here to police her posts in the tags, but as me and plenty of other people on this app have voiced multiple times, it is a bit irritating and feels like spam to see posts of these kinds in the tags so i blocked her. this is a very popular opinion and i refuse to be considered problematic for it. i am not here to police what constitutes an appropriate post to tag x reader tags on, and while i have made posts simply sharing my opinion on what i feel should and should not be tagged, osaemu is more than welcome to post whatever she feels she would like to into the tags. i do, however, block anyone who i come across who makes those kinds of posts because i simply don’t like them, and i don’t like seeing them. i don’t owe an explanation for why i block anyone, but seeing as i have been painted as some bitch for doing so, here is my reasoning. quite a lot of people agree on this sentiment, and to each their own, but i don’t enjoy seeing those posts. i did also unblock her at one point, as she mentioned. this is simply because a mutual of mine had voiced that they felt someone had copied the concept of their drabble, and i was helping them word a message to send, so i went back to this exact conversation to look back on what i said because it was a similar situation. as you know, blocking someone hides their dms from your dm list, so i had intended to temporarily unblock her just to see how i worded my message to help formulate a message for a mutual. there were no screenshots sent, i simply wanted to jog my memory of my points, that’s all. i did forget to block her again for a bit but eventually did, and that’s the extent of our interactions. i don’t recall posts telling people that i condone sending anons with death threats like she has claimed, and if she could point out the particular posts i have made where i encourage people to send anon death threats on my behalf, i would be more than happy to clear them up, or address them. 
i have admittedly, on a few occasions said in my responses to anon hate itself, the phrase “kys” out of frustration, and there are i’m sure conflicting opinions on that, but i do not regularly use this phrase in my vocabulary. i have been on the receiving end of graphic sexual and violent asks in my inbox regarding me, my teenage sister, and my mother, during my time on here, and sometimes out of frustration i have said less than dignified things, but this is not a constant behavior, and frankly, i think once people make graphic, violent, and inappropriate comments about my 16 year old sister, saying “kys” in response is not the greater of the two evils. it is a tad bit hypocritical to expect benevolence from me to an anonymous hate ask just because there is “another person” at the end of the screen when they have not extended the same sentiment to me.  
all of that being said, jumping on the trend to trample on someone while you have the opportunity to because you’re bitter they blocked you is also no better than bullying. apart from blocking osaemu, I have taken careful steps to always be respectful to her due to the very kind comments she’s left on my writing. leaving nice comments on my writing is deeply appreciated and welcome, but that doesn’t mean i have to subject myself to seeing posts i do not want to see on my dash on my phone. i pay for the phone bill, so i will cater my phone to show me what i want to see, and if that includes blocking a few people, i am allowed to do that !! i should not have to apologize for or be crucified for blocking someone and their feelings being hurt over it. 
not only this, but several of you have somehow started a rumor that i am 26 or even pushing 30. that’s nowhere close to the truth. i’m 21, soon to be 22, and i have stated multiple times i am an undergraduate college student. of course, there is no timeline to college, and people of all ages complete their undergrad degrees, but i have made it a point to vent about my concerns numerous times that i am very stressed about taking extra classes every semester to compensate for changing my major late because i want to graduate on time. my graduation year is 2024 (as would make sense seeing as i will be 22 years old), and if you don’t believe me, i have celebrated my bday on april 12th of every year this blog has been active. you’re more than welcome to check my archive to see if that’s true, and for further reference, here is a picture i have sent to mods of servers i am in to be accepted. (note that my url used to be hanmas before saetoru.)
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although there is no shame in being 26 or pushing 30, the reason why i wanted to address this is that i wanted to point out that yet another rumor has been fiercely pushed on my name and has been believed to be the truth. no one has to walk away from reading this post assuming that i’m a saint and i have never done anything wrong or that i have been faultless in differences i’ve had with other people. but a lot, if not all, of these claims are exaggerated with 0 evidence, and people have just run with claiming them as true. i physically cannot deny a large majority of these rumors with evidence or screenshots because half of them are made by people i have never interacted with or talked to, and i cannot produce evidence for interactions that never happened. i have seen blank, burner blogs post stories of their experiences with me, one in particular that claims i dm’d them to tell them their hanma fic was breathtaking before i harassed them about their theme, boyfriend, and parents. a) i do not dm anyone to compliment their fics because i am simply too shy to do that. i would have only reblogged the fic with comments if i enjoyed it. b) again, there is no evidence on their part, and i cannot dispel this story with evidence of my own because evidence of conversations that never took place does not exist. and c) i would like to think i do not come across as dense enough to attack someone in their dm’s viciously about their boyfriend and parents openly with my account, where they could easily spread the proof around if it had actually happened. i am not responsible for people’s internet literacy, and if people believe every story that is shared with not even a small piece of proof that it took place, i cannot do anything besides simply urge you all to formulate your opinions based on what you see, not based on what you hear. 
i would also like to end things off with an apology to all of you—mainly because there was no reason for so many of you to be dragged into something that did not involve you and also because there are very disturbing and important issues going on right now in real-time in the world that are affecting a lot of people. i never want to be involved in something that takes attention off of important discussions such as genocide, and while many of you like to claim i am deflecting, i think it is quite telling that some people have posted nothing about something this important but have made multiple posts regarding discourse. i did not feel it was appropriate at that time to focus on discourse, and i still do not think so, but i wanted to leave off with my own statement.
i would also like to apologize if i have ever come across as unkind during an experience with me; it is never my intention to be that way purposely. i have a habit of being petty sometimes and can be a bit short-tempered, and it’s something i work on. with as large of a following as i have, sometimes it’s better not to say anything at all than say it—however vaguely it might be. i hope some of you who also have larger followings keep that in mind so that you can avoid discourse erupting into something grand scale. please vent to people you trust and be wary of having a habit to subpost. but mainly, please remember that people trusting you with their feelings and troubles is not something you should take pride in spreading. there is nothing to be proud of about sharing people's private socials, urls, and conversations. while i am not always able to keep my temper under wraps, and while i have had my fair share of petty moments, i, to the best of my ability, have always made sure that i don’t come across as intentionally cruel or mean, nor have i purposely broken someone’s trust. sometimes i have retaliated back a bit fiercely, but i stand by the fact that i never purposely chased or drove anyone off, mocked or belittled them, or sent people over to dislike/hate them. i have at times vented to those who i believe are people i can trust, sure—but this is something we as people are all guilty of. there’s no way any of us can hold one person more accountable than others for partaking in closeted conversations that are never meant to get back to people and hurt them. 
i genuinely loved, and still love, writing very much, and i have always appreciated every ask, every reblog, and every comment. writing is a hobby i am greatly passionate about, and it’s always a hobby i was very excited to share with people on here because i don’t get to share it with people irl. i don’t willingly tell people irl that i enjoy making elaborate plots about anime characters, and i have always been very excited to share that hobby with you all, whether you are a reader or writer. i’ve read fanfiction for a very long time before i ever decided to try my hand at writing it, and i would never want to knock other people down simply because they “surpassed” me. i enjoy finding writers to read from, especially those who write better than me, because they are where i draw the most inspiration and motivation from. the moots i look up to most are moots who are in my opinion, far stronger writers than me, and moots who i always firmly believe deserve much more reach than i do on their stories because they’re far more fleshed out and in-depth than anything i can produce. and i am proud of them !! and even those of you who feel you are stuck not getting as much reach as you would hope, i am proud also of all of you for picking up a google doc or pen and writing and trying, whether you choose to share it or not. i will always strongly encourage you all to try your hand at writing if you have ever considered it because i have genuinely built such a better sense of self-esteem when being able to incorporate pieces of myself in my stories and express parts of who i am—i think some of you might really enjoy the catharsis that writing brings, and if you ever debate on trying it out, please do !! you might become really passionate about it. 
anyway, this post is abysmally long. none of it is to clear my name in hopes that i will be “un-canceled” (LOL) because i have decided saetoru is long overdue to be put to rest. i hope you can all, at the very least, allow other writers some peace and stop harassing them in their inboxes for knowing me (because that is also bullying and very ironic of you), and i hope you all got some sort of understanding of where i am coming from. if you think poorly of me, that’s okay. i have an opinion of myself, and the close people who surround me, that i am confident in, and while i may not have always handled things in the brightest of manners, i am well aware of what my intentions have always been. 
i’m deeply grateful to all 41k of you, and thank you for reading my works and allowing me to write for you !! thank you for all the very, very kind asks that i never got a chance to fully answer each one of, and thank you especially for all the supportive comments and love on the writing i’ve posted. they might be silly fics you read once and moved on from, but they’re all pieces of me, my life, and things that are important to me, and as cringe and cheesy as it sounds, it means quite literally everything to me when people read them and take away something from them. 
also, as a parting gift, i will be posting the nerd gojo, ex-convict geto, and a marriage rb! gojo fic to my ao3 (also saetoru) for those of you who have been patiently awaiting those wips to enjoy. please (a little more patiently) keep your eyes peeled for those <3 i will no longer be posting or active on saetoru, and in the event that i keep writing, it will be posted on my ao3, so you all will know where to find me !!
so for the last time, i love you my little runts !! wishing you all the best, and goodbye to my lil saetoru bestees. 
mwah !!
— tee <3
ps. i also have turned off reblogs for this post and limited replies to people i follow only. a lot of you will jump to say that it’s simply because i am “hiding,” but it is solely because i have said my piece and i intend to move on. thank you and have a lovely day shawtee ✌🏽
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genshinluvr · 8 months
Text
Well, Shit.
Pairings: Various Honkai Star Rail Men x Toddler!Isekai'd!Reader
Summary: Well, Shit. This isn't supposed to happen. How did this even happen in the first place? Yanqing was tasked to watch over you while General Jing Yuan and your traveling companions were out on a mission. Who knew it would end up with you turning into a toddler?
Note: This is a short fic. I guess this can be part 2 of "Yanqing's Babysitting Service" since I mentioned the reader getting hit in the face by Luka's arm situation in this fic. I've had this idea in my head for a while, and I think it would be a cute and fun spin-off to Yanqing's Babysitting Service. I'll link it down if you want to read it— this can be read as a standalone if you're not interested in reading the first part. Anyway! I don't post anywhere else but on Tumblr (Genshinluvr) and on AO3 (Aaliah_exo).
Warnings: None that I know of
Word Count: 4k
Part 1 of Well, Shit. [Yanqing's Babysitting Service] (Can be read as a standalone fic)
Yanqing looks at the sight in front of him in horror before looking around to see if anyone else was around when it happened. Yanqing gulps nervously before running his fingers through his hair and closing his eyes. This cannot be happening right now. Especially when he is the one that’s tasked to watch over you while the others are away on an important mission on the Xianzhou Luofu. What could have caused this mess?
Yanqing collapses to the ground, covering his face with his hands as he tries to calm down. How would the General react to this? Heck, how would the others react to this? Everything was going well until this happened! The first time Yanqing was tasked to babysit you, you ended up in the medical center in Belobog because Luka’s arm flew off and knocked you out cold. Then again, Yanqing would rather have that happen again because it’s better than whatever the heck is going on right now!
“Please, this can’t be happening. General is going to kill me if he finds out that [Y/N]—” Yanqing’s inner monologue is interrupted by someone tugging on the sleeve of his hanfu.
Yanqing uncovers his eyes to see large eyes staring at him curiously. Standing before him is you— only it’s not really you. You’re not the adult you were. You’re a child, no, a toddler no older than three years old. 
“Y-Yanqing,” you whimper out softly.
Aeons… you’re an adorable baby, and Yanqing doesn’t know how to react. Should he laugh? Should he cry? Yanqing is supposed to be the child here, not you! And yet, here you guys are— the role has switched, and Yanqing doesn’t know what to do. The others should be back from their mission in a few hours, and Yanqing has no idea how to turn you back to your normal self. Wait a minute. If you’re physically a toddler, does that mean you think like one too?
Your bottom lip starts to quiver as tears start pooling in your eyes. Yanqing’s eyes widen with panic as he gently shushes you, wrapping his arms around your waist and lifting you. Yanqing lightly bounces you, patting your back while looking around for help. You grab Yanqing’s hanfu and rest your chin on his shoulders, whimpering occasionally.
“It’s okay! Don’t cry, [Y/N]! I know it’s scary right now, but try to be strong for me, okay?” Yanqing coos, peeking at you to wipe your tear-stained cheeks.
You sniffle and nod, bottom lip jutting out. Yanqing smiles and lightly pinches your cheek before walking around the Xianzhou Luofu with you in his arms. It’s a good thing your clothes shrunk with you because Yanqing wouldn’t know what else to do if the clothes didn’t shrink with your person. 
“Aw, man. What am I going to do?” Yanqing whispers. “How are we going to turn you back to normal?”
You bury your face on Yanqing’s shoulders, rubbing your eyes with your fist. Yanqing stops in his tracks and looks at you worriedly. You yawn and blink at Yanqing slowly. Fuck, was he supposed to know what that means? You begin sniffling, a small cry emitting from you. Panic kicks in as Yanqing tries to figure out what’s wrong.
Yanqing lightly pats your back and bounces you, his eyebrows furrowing with worry. “What’s wrong, [Y/N]?” Yanqing asks softly, quickly wiping the tears that threaten to roll down your cheeks.
You whimper out, “I‘m sleepy.”
“You can sleep in my arms for now, okay? I’ll find a place for you to sleep,” Yanqing coos, patting your head.
You nod glumly and rest your head on his shoulders, holding onto the fabric of Yanqing’s hanfu, and close your eyes. Yanqing isn’t around children often, but when he is around children, he’s not the one who’s dealing with the needs of children. Instead, he would be the one to stand there awkwardly while the mothers and fathers of the children tend to their needs.
Yanqing walks into the Seat of Divine Foresight with you in his arms. You have yet to fall asleep, and Yanqing is glad you haven’t cried or thrown a tantrum yet. Yanqing doesn’t know where to take you, so you can take a nap other than General Jing Yuan’s office. Mainly because there aren’t many people in the General’s office and because the General’s seat is the first place to pop up in his mind when he thinks of a place for you to nap on.
Yanqing sits you down on the seat where General Jing Yuan’s desk is, and you sprawl out on the chair before curling into a ball. Within seven minutes, you were out like a light. Yanqing sighs in relief and rubs the back of his neck as he paces back and forth in front of the white-haired General’s desk. 
“What am I going to say to the General when he and the others return? I don’t know how this happened in the first place!” Yanqing screams internally.
Yanqing walks over to the chair and sits at the end of the seat, resting his chin on the armrest and sighs. Yanqing peeks at you from the corner of his eyes, making sure you’re still asleep. How in the world did you end up aging backward? You were fine earlier today until a little less than an hour ago.
The doors to the Seat of Divine Foresight open, startling the poor blond boy. General Jing Yuan, the Stellaron Hunter, the foreign merchant, the Astral Express crew, and the people visiting from Jarilo-VI enter the white-haired General’s office. Yanqing stands up and looks over at you worriedly and then at the newcomers.
Thankfully, they’re too distracted to notice Yanqing’s presence. Yanqing debates on whether he should carry you out of the General’s office without being seen or let everyone discover the predicament you and Yanqing got into. Yanqing chews on his thumbnail, watching the group converse with one another, still not noticing Yanqing’s presence. 
“Yanqing! I see you and [Y/N] have returned from your day around the Luofu early,” General Jing Yuan says, startling Yanqing.
Blade crosses his arms over his chest. “Speaking of [Y/N]. Where are they?” Blade asks, raising his eyebrows at the blond boy.
Yanqing feels his heart gets caught in his throat. Yanqing laughs nervously, rubbing the back of his neck. What is he supposed to say? It’s not like he can make an excuse and say you’re in the restroom when you’re sleeping on the General’s chair right behind him. Yanqing subtly covers you and adjusts his ponytail, still trying to find a way to answer Blade’s question. 
“[Y/N] told me they will not be making an appearance until they get Immortals Delight,” Yanqing lies, internally wincing when the words come out of his mouth.
Almost everyone raises their eyebrows at Yanqing’s response. Dan Heng and Welt Yang coincidentally hold the sweet drinks up for Yanqing to see. Yanqing exhales loudly— the others mistake Yanqing’s sigh as relief rather than defeat. Yanqing purses his lips and nods slowly. Great, okay, so what is Yanqing going to do now? 
It’s not like he can hide you any longer. Yanqing gestures for the others to wait a moment before turning around. Yanqing bends over to wake you up from your sleep. You crack your eyes open, whining softly. Yanqing quickly shushes you, trying his best not to panic when he knows the others are watching him with eagle eyes. Yanqing looks over his shoulders, giving the audience an awkward smile.
“Please give me a moment! Maybe turn around and don’t look yet!” says Yanqing, gesturing to them to turn and have their backs facing his and your direction.
Luocha raises his eyebrows at Yanqing, crossing his arms over his chest. “What are you hiding from us, Yanqing?” Luocha asks, poking the inside of his cheek with his tongue.
Yanqing ignores Luocha’s question and continues to lift you and carry you in his arms. You wrap your little arms around Yanqing’s shoulders and bury your face into his neck as you try to go back to sleep. 
Yanqing would have melted from the cuteness, but he’s too busy worrying about how the others are going to react to seeing a miniature version of yourself. Yanqing turns around to see the others staring at him. Yanqing bristles and glares at the group, pointing an accusing finger at everyone, ignoring the gasps and wide eyes from them. 
“Hey! I told you guys to turn around and not to look yet!” Yanqing exclaims.
Sampo points at you. “Why do you have a random child in your arms? Where’s my Gumdrop, Yanqing?” Sampo demands, making his way toward the blond boy.
You peek from Yanqing’s shoulders, rubbing your eyes with your knuckles. Sampo stops in his tracks when he gets a better look at your face. You stare at Sampo and blink at the gobsmacked indigo-haired man. Sampo begins sputtering, pointing at you and looking at the group with wide eyes. You lay your head on Yanqing’s shoulder, eyes glazed over before yawning. 
“[Y/N]?” Welt asks softly, tilting his head to the side.
You look at the brown-haired man and look at him curiously, mimicking the brunette by tilting your head to the side like a curious puppy. The brunette sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose, nodding when March, Dan Heng, and Caelus look at him quizzically. Despite the trio not saying anything, Welt knew what they wanted to ask.
The child in Yanqing’s arms is indeed you. Aside from the clothing, your hair is the same, and so is your face… but younger. Dan Heng looks at the nervous Yanqing, pointing at the dozing-off child in Yanqing’s arm.
Dan Heng clears his throat to grab Yanqing’s attention. “How did this happen?”
“That’s the problem, Dan Heng! I don’t know how all of this happened! One minute, [Y/N] and I were hanging around the Luofu, and the next, poof! [Y/N] is de-aged!” Yanqing explains, tapping his foot on the ground anxiously.
You squirm in Yanqing’s arms, kicking your feet lightly. Yanqing puts you on the ground before looking at the men (and March) nervously. You look around the Seat of Divine Foresight, eyes bright with wonder and curiosity. You look at the large group of very tall people before cowering in fear and hiding behind Yanqing’s legs, peeking from behind.
Caelus steps forward and squats down, smiling at you. “There’s nothing to be afraid of, [Y/N]. Do you recognize any of us aside from Yanqing?” Caelus whispers. 
You grab Yanqing’s pants and nod hesitantly. Of course, you remember the really tall people! Despite turning into a toddler and not being able to think and communicate like your normal self, you recognize everyone’s face. Gepard squats beside Caelus, looking at you curiously.
“Do you know how this happened?” Gepard murmurs.
You shake your head. “No,” you mumble.
Luka pouts and turns to the others, clutching his chest. “They’re so cute and tiny! Their little ‘no,’” Luka coos, cupping his cheeks and squealing softly.
You lean against Yanqing and rub your eyes with the heel of your hand. You tug on Yanqing’s hanfu to get General Jing Yuan’s blond retainer’s attention. Yanqing looks down and sees you holding your arms up in the air. Yanqing lifts you up and carries you in his arms while you bury your face into his shoulders, mumbling into his shoulders.
March bounces over to you and Yanqing, looking at you with curiosity. You peek from Yanqing’s shoulders and look up at March. March smiles widely and waves at you, cooing softly when you shyly smile at her and wave in return. March squeals softly and pokes your cheek. You bury your face against Yanqing’s shoulders after, making March laugh.
“You’re so cute! Yanqing, let me hold [Y/N]!” March says, holding her hands out for the blond boy to hand you over to her.
Yanqing’s eyes widen, and he shakes his head. “What! No way! I’m not handing [Y/N] to you until they return to their normal self!” Yanqing protests, taking a step back.
March’s jaws drop, and she stomps her foot on the ground. “Huh!? Aren’t you going to feel tired if you hold [Y/N] for a long time?” March exclaims, propping her hands on her hips. “Mr. Yang! Yanqing refuses to let me hold [Y/N]!”
Yanqing and March continue to glare at each other while Welt and General Jing Yuan sigh in unison, pinching the bridge of their noses. Not only do they have to figure out how to turn you back into your normal self, but now they have to deal with March and Yanqing arguing over who gets to hold you.
General Jing Yuan clears his throat. “Yanqing, I believe you should put [Y/N] down. We should reintroduce ourselves to [Y/N] so they won’t feel uncomfortable around us despite knowing who we are,” says General Jing Yuan.
Yanqing makes a disgruntled noise before complying with the white-haired General. Yanqing puts you on the ground and holds his hand out for you to take. You place your little hand in Yanqing’s bigger hand and let the blond boy guide you to the center of the Seat of Divine Foresight. 
You and Yanqing walk down the stairs— Yanqing makes sure to go slow and help you down the stairs, making sure you don’t slip or trip. You stick close to Yanqing, gazing at the group curiously. Everyone looks friendly, especially the two men holding Immortals Delight. Your eyes are glued onto the sweet drinks, tempted to ask the two men if you can have the drinks. 
Luocha chuckles. “Despite turning into a child, [Y/N]’s love for Immortal’s Delight remains,” Luocha comments, turning toward Dan Heng and Welt.
You point at the drink, glancing up at Yanqing. Yanqing looks at the two men holding the beverages and at General Jing Yuan. You tug on Yanqing’s hanfu to grab his attention, silently asking if you can have the sweet drink. 
Dan Heng hums, stroking his chin. “I’m not sure if someone as small as [Y/N] should be drinking two Immortal’s Delight,” Dan Heng murmurs.
Upon hearing Dan Heng’s hesitation, you pout and give Dan Heng puppy dog eyes, your bottom lips quivering. Dan Heng looks away, sighing. How can he say no to your puppy dog eyes? Dan Heng looks over at the brown-haired man, who’s also looking away from you. Welt clears his throat, not saying a thing.
You continue to point at the drink. “Please…” you trail off, blinking away the tears forming in your eyes.
Welt sighs in defeat. “Alright, you can have this drink. But you can only drink one, alright?” Welt says, walking up to you before kneeling before you.
You stare at the older man before looking at the Immortal’s Delight in his hands. One drink? I mean, it’s better than not having any, right? 
You nod. “Okay,” you say softly.
Welt hands you the Immortal’s Delight, patting the top of your head as you latch onto the straw and sip the sweet beverage happily. You look at Yanqing, smiling widely. Yanqing smiles and ruffles your hair before looking at the white-haired General pleadingly. Blade points at you, his eyebrows raised. You stare at Blade, pointing at the Stellaron Hunter while looking at your blond babysitter.
“Baldie?” You squeak.
Sampo and Luka pucker their lips and look away, stifling their laughter. Blade stares at you blankly, trying to process what you just said. Were you trying to call him Bladie? Did he mishear you by any chance? Given the facial expressions on everyone’s face, Blade, in fact, did not mishear you.
Sampo whispers to Luka, “[Y/N] just called Blade ‘Baldie.’” Sampo wipes the tears forming in the corner of his eyes as he tries to keep his composure.
“And they said it with confidence, too,” Luka snickers.
You’re confused about why the others are trying to hide their laughter after you said Blade’s name, but you didn’t question it. You’re drinking Immortal’s Delight, and it tastes amazing. The drink is so good, and you want to get your tiny hands on another Immortal’s Delight. 
Blade clears his throat, slightly glaring at you. “I think you mean Blade, not Baldie,” Blade corrects you.
You shake your head stubbornly, pointing at the long-haired man again. “Baldie,” you state.
Caelus nods, pointing at the now irritated Stellaron Hunter. “Maybe [Y/N] knows something that we don’t!” Caelus says, walking over to Blade and reaching for Blade’s hair, only for Blade to slap his hands away with a scowl.
You soon finish your Immortal’s Delight. Soon enough, your eyes land on the Immortal’s Delight that Dan Heng is holding. You point at the drink, glancing at Yanqing. Yanqing laughs nervously and scratches the back of his head.
“I think you’ve had enough, [Y/N]. It’s not good if you drink two Immortal’s Delight. It’ll make you feel sick,” Yanqing says, squatting down beside you.
Almost immediately, you pout and look at the blond boy with teary eyes. Yanqing starts to panic and looks at the others, alarmed. General Jing Yuan walks to you and hands you a Steamed Puffergoat Milk. You look at the drink curiously before sniffing it. You lift the cup to your lips and take a small sip of the Steamed Puffergoat Milk. 
Gepard chuckles. “It seems like [Y/N] likes it,” Gepard says, watching the white-haired General and his blond retainer panic and make sure you don’t chug the Steamed Puffergoat Milk. 
General Jing Yuan wipes away your milk mustache and carries you in his arms, chuckling. You wrap your arms around General Jing Yuan’s neck and rest your chin on his shoulders. The Immortal’s Delight and the Steamed Puffergoat Milk filled your stomach up really well, and now you’re in need of another nap. You yawn and close your eyes.
“Has [Y/N] eaten?” Dan Heng asks.
Yanqing nods. “That’s the thing! [Y/N] and I had something to eat before [Y/N] turned into a child. The downside is that I have no idea what caused [Y/N] to be de-aged,” Yanqing explains, crossing his arms over his chest. 
March turns to look at the Xianzhou men worriedly. “There is a way to turn [Y/N] back to normal, right?” March asks. “I don’t know if I can handle seeing my best friend as a toddler for more than a day.”
You peek at March, blinking at the pink-haired girl. You yawn again and rub your eyes with your knuckles. General Jing Yuan pats your head and has you rest your head on his shoulders. You comply and snuggle up against the white-haired General. 
“No need to fret. We will try to find the solution to bring [Y/N] back to their normal self,” Luocha says, giving the pink-haired girl a reassuring smile.
It shouldn’t be hard to find the solution, right? You being a toddler for a few days doesn’t sound so bad. So far, you’ve been a pretty good kid aside from your love for sugar, especially your love for Immortal’s Delight and now Steamed Puffergoat Milk, thanks to General Jing Yuan. Not only that, but you have grown quite close with the General’s blond retainer. 
You’re an absolute angel to Yanqing, but you can be a little bit of a pain in the ass to the others. Remember how it was mentioned that you’re a pretty good kid? Yeah, well, you’re a good toddler for selected people. You continued to call Blade “Baldie” despite the number of times you have been corrected by the visibly miffed Stellaron Hunter. 
“Do you think [Y/N] is messing with Blade?” Gepard asks, watching the long-haired Stellaron Hunter chase you around the Xianzhou Luofu while you’re giggling mischievously.
Sampo nods. “Oh, for sure! There’s no way [Y/N] doesn’t know what they’re doing,” Sampo replies, sipping on his Immortal’s Delight.
Blade manages to grab you by your biceps and yanks you up. You thrash around in Blade’s grasp, face scrunching up with annoyance. Blade ignores your kicks and tosses you over his shoulders. You grumble and lightly punch his back, which feels like a thump to Blade. General Jing Yuan stops in his tracks and raises his eyebrows at Blade.
“I see you’re not too fond of [Y/N],” General Jing Yuan comments, smirking at the annoyed Stellaron Hunter.
Blade huffs, “They do nothing but cause trouble and drink Immortal’s Delight until they get cavities.”
Welt walks to Blade and holds his hands out. “Here, hand them to me if you don’t want to deal with [Y/N]’s shenanigans anymore,” Welt says.
Blade stares at Welt and then at the older man’s hand before walking off, leaving Welt standing there quizzically. General Jing Yuan chuckles while Welt rolls his eyes and crosses his arms over his chest. Welt was merely offering to take you out of Blade’s hair, and yet Blade didn’t want to hand you over. For someone who isn’t too fond of the toddler version of yourself, Blade sure has a funny way of showing his distaste for your toddler self.
“How much longer is [Y/N] going to be a child for? Don’t get me wrong, [Y/N] is adorable! But I miss messing with March with [Y/N] by my side,” Caelus says, frowning.
March does a double take, glaring at the silver-haired man. “You and [Y/N] have been teaming up to mess with me?!” March screeches, propping her hands on her hips while glaring at him.
Caelus opens his mouth to reply when he sees a familiar face walk into the room. Caelus nudges March and gestures toward the long-haired Aeon. Nanook walks over to you and Blade, snatching you off of Blade’s shoulders and holding you to eye level, your feet dangling in the air. You and Nanook stare at one another in silence. 
“You ate that dessert, didn’t you?” Nanook mutters, eyes narrowing.
Luka looks at Nanook skeptically. “Huh? You knew what turned [Y/N] into a child the entire time!?”
Nanook ignores Luka’s question and continues to stare at you. You smile at Nanook sheepishly and nod. Nanook sighs, giving you a disapproving look. You pout at Nanook and kick your feet in the air. Nanook tosses you up in the air before catching you in his arms. It happened way too fast for the others to comprehend what had happened.
“Make sure not to eat something you’re not familiar with, alright?” Nanook says.
You sigh and nod. “Okay, I won’t. But can you really blame me? It looks like a regular Xianzhou dessert, and I didn’t think it would turn me into a toddler!” You say, attempting to get out of Nanook’s arms.
“Let this be a lesson for you not to eat too many sweets. It’s not good for you, especially Immortal’s Delight,” Nanook says, looking over at Mr. Yang and Dan Heng with a pointed look.
You reluctantly agree to Nanook’s comment. You can cut back on the sweets, but you’re not sure if you can cut back on the number of Immortal’s Delight you ingest. March stomps up to you, her hands on her hips and her eyebrows furrowing. You can practically see steam coming from her ears.
“You have some explaining to do! You pull pranks on me with Caelus!?” March asks.
Your eyes widen, and you peek over March’s shoulders, looking at Caelus. Caelus smiles at you sheepishly, shrugging his shoulders. Well, shit. Just when you thought that turning into a toddler was bad enough, dealing with March’s wrath is even worse. 
You turn to Nanook, whispering, “Can you turn me into a toddler again? Just so I can get away from March’s wrath.”
“No can do, Little One,” Nanook replies.
You groan and look at March with a sheepish smile while she continues to glare at you, tapping her feet on the ground while waiting for you to give your side of the story.
Note: I start school soon! Yay! 🥲 I am officially a senior in university, and that means I need to focus on school and try to graduate on time. I'm not sure if people read notes at the end of my fics, but I wanted to let you all know that I'm going to be on hiatus, meaning the Genshin and HSR isekai fics will be paused. I'm going to try to post something every now and then, but I (and the isekai fanfics for both Genshin and HSR) will be on hiatus. I'll announce it in a separate post soon. Since school is starting soon, this will be the last time I post invite links to my Discord server, and I will not be giving out invite links after the link expires. If you want to join, you can click the temporary link to [Zhongli's Abode]. Anyway, to all my new and returning readers, keep in mind that I ONLY post on my Tumblr (Genshinluvr) and my AO3 (Aaliah_exo)! Nowhere else except Tumblr and AO3!
Taglist for the HSR one-shot series: @ashwasherelol, @mompt2, @elegantnightblaze, @lunavixia, @jadedist, @reversearrowhead, @pinksaiyans, @aurelia-xyt, @lilliansstuff, @starrry-angel, @kaoyamamegami, @kodzuvk, @for3very0urs, @a-cosmicdawn, @g3n0dtt, @theblades, @wntrsblvd, @raaawwwr, @immahuman, @irisxiel, @siaracarroll, @crazydreamcat, @sen-nes, @sagekun, @orichalcumthief, @dyingsweetmackerel, @rosiesareblue, @ichikanu, @undecidingfate, @asoulsreverie, @angelmican, @misdollface, @4-34-am, @sxftiebee, @hispasian-otaku, @the-dumber-scaramouche, @vox34, @tsukkikeisimp, @inapileofbooke
Read more of my works on my Masterlist / Masterlist 2 | Maybe support me by tipping me on Ko-Fi or by reblogging my fanfics! ^^ I will also be posting exclusive fanfics on Ko-Fi as well very soon! I might post all of my stories on there too, but who knows. You can also tip me on Tumblr if you'd like as a way to show support! ^^
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tabbedtabby · 3 days
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good luck, babe! | chapter 2
regina george x reader
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summary: After the Queen Bee of North Shore makes up rumors about you taking pictures of girls in the changing room, you decide to take matters into your own hands. You didn’t think that would mean coming to a reluctant agreement with Regina George.
a/n: i wasn’t gonna add cady but now i am because it’s convenient for me so just pretend she’s in the last chapter lol. also they get high way faster than what’s accurate but i wrote this in like 4 sittings it felt longer to me pls spare me. if the picture collage thing is ugly i’m sorry i’m not a tumblr native 😭 but anyways big thanks to everyone who interacted with the first chapter mwah!!!!! (photo creds from left to right: @/mediorcesav on insta, @/marvelsgirl616, casual mv by chappell roan)
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When the bell rings after 7th period, you’re already halfway out the door.
You’re already sober enough from earlier so you’re desperate to get outside, even if Regina will be there. You bite the inside of your mouth in annoyance. You like your after school alone time; you didn’t want the person who literally ruined your social life to be there. At least maybe she’ll leave right after you smoke. You realize she most likely won’t after you remember she drives. How could you forget that bedazzled orange Jeep?
You feel the dappled sunlight sink heat into your skin once you enter the woods behind the baseball field. It really was a nice day. You make your way to your usual spot and lift up the pile of sticks and leaves that hide your forest stash. The guy who sells to you charges a ridiculous amount for carts compared to just the plant so you try to use them sparingly. Even if this shit stinks up the whole forest.
You’re not sure if Regina will care or not if you start without her, so you pull out your phone to pass the time. Besides, you want to be sober anyway when she finally shows.
After about 20 minutes of standing there, you start to get impatient. You almost pull the bag out to start without her before you finally see a flash of blonde hair from behind the trees.
“Took you long enough.” you mutter, already opening the bag without paying Regina much attention. Your patience was windeled, and you don’t especially want to talk to her anyway.
“Sorry I have a social life. I guess you wouldn’t know,” she snaps back, her voice strained.
You feel the annoyance crawl down your back like a centipede, and you have to bite the inside of your mouth to stop yourself from saying something back to her. She holds basically your life in her hands since you’d be both fucked and poor if she decided to snitch on you. Probably not a good idea to start a fight on the first day of your little deal, but she made it difficult.
You grab one of the cans from under the pile of leaves as you see Regina cross her arms a couple feet away from you. Her eyes watching your every move makes you a bit wary on instinct. You feel like a mouse being stalked by a snake. You grab a decently sized piece out of the bag and put it on the crushed can. You couldn’t be bothered to roll your own blunts, so this was the next best thing.
“How much have you smoked before?” you ask, just wanting a general idea on how much she should have so that you wouldn’t have to drag her to the parking lot. Apparently, she takes great offense.
“What are you, my mom? Just hurry up so I can get out of here,” she says begrudgingly, like being out here was the biggest possible drag on her life. She was really grating on your last nerve right now.
“Trying my best.” you respond dryly, giving her a snide smile as you fiddle with the lighter.
“Well, obviously it’s not good enough. What are you even doing, anyway? This is the shadiest shit I’ve ever seen—”
You blow the first hit out of your mouth harshly. “Can you please just shut the fuck up? I don’t want to be out here with you either!”
“That’s shocking. I’m surprised this isn’t your ultimate wet dream, being alone in the forest with me,” Regina sneers, nothing but disgust on her face. Like you were some kind of animal instead of human.
“What’s that going off of? The photo collection that you made up?” you snap, putting the can down for a minute. “Believe me, I want nothing to do with you either. But since we’re gonna be out here every day, you could at least make it a little easier.”
You can tell she wants to rip your throat out just by the way she looks at you. Pursed lips, downturned eyebrows, piercing blue eyes surrounded by eyeliner almost as sharp as the look she’s giving you right now. She’s way too tense for someone about to get high.
“Whatever.” she finally says, although the edge to her voice makes you want to scoff. Better not to sour her mood more than necessary, though.
Pleased with the newfound silence, you light the piece on top of the can once more and take another hit. It’s strong enough to make you cough, and you sit down against the foot of a tree. Regina raises an eyebrow at you.
“I thought you were supposed to be some kind of professional,” she says, but her voice isn’t quite as taunting as before. It almost sounded like a joke. Maybe she was considering not making this hell for you after all.
“It’s not good if it doesn’t make you cough.” you respond with a shrug. She looks at you expectantly, but you pretend you don’t see. You don’t want to have to stand back up just to pass her the can.
Eventually, she sits next to you (albeit, begrudgingly) and you pass the can to her, lighting it again when she puts her lips up to it. She explodes into a coughing fit the minute the smoke hits her lungs.
You can’t help but snicker at the sight of Regina George coughing her lungs out with just one hit from the can. It was almost strange to see her not perfectly arranged the way she was at school. You were up close enough to see the strings that sew her together.
She glares at you from the corner of her eye, but it only makes you laugh harder. You’re acting stupid right now and you’re aware of it, but you can’t stop. It’s a nice sort of high. Not like when you smoke too much and everything starts to blur together, which happens more than you’d like to admit. But this is nice. You lean back until your back touches the grass.
Regina has a couple more hits until she’s smoked about everything that’ll come out of it, and you both just lay there on the forest floor. You’re surprised she isn’t whining about dirt getting on her outfit. Maybe she’s too stoned to care. She never did answer your question about her tolerance.
Your thoughts go elsewhere as you stare up at the sky. The tops of the trees cover most of it. The sun from behind the leaves make them look almost as if they are glowing. It’s so beautiful. You wish you could reach up and feel it between your own fingertips, the fabric of the sky.
“You don’t care about what I think about you.” You hear Regina say, her voice only a couple of feet away from you. It sounds more like a statement than a question.
You don’t why it’s funny to you, but it is. You feel the laugh escape your lips before you can stop it.
“I guess not.” you respond, even though you’re not certain if she wanted a response. It sounded like she was just thinking out loud. You feel that.
“Everyone else does. They grovel to me like lap dogs.” she says amusingly, although her voice drags and you can tell she’s starting to get tired.
“You don’t like it?” you ask with surprise.
“It’s the way it should be,” she declares, as if you’re stupid for even asking. “But everyone else is a less hot version of me. It gets annoying talking to the same clones that hang onto my every word. Like, just be normal for once in your life,” Regina complains, an annoyed edge in her tone near the end. Somehow you could tell she was talking about Gretchen. That poor girl really did hang onto every little thing Regina said or did. It was almost worshipful. But in an unfortunate, sad kind of way.
Her problems didn’t seem all that hard compared to others, but you don’t say anything. It’s intesting to you to hear her talk about this stuff, to see what goes on in her head. You’d never really considered what her life was like. You wonder if there’s a reason she’s the way that she is. There must be. Everyone’s a product of their environment in some shape or form. Of course, it doesn’t excuse everything she’s done, but that thought makes you want to get inside her head somehow.
You shake your head at the silly train of thought. Regina George was just plain mean. Nothing more to it. You turn your head to look at her as you realize you never responded.
Her eyes are closed, hair splayed out on the forest ground. She looks stoned as fuck, her chest rising and falling dangerously slow. You snort and roll your eyes. How low was her tolerance? You already felt mostly normal again.
Somehow she still manages to look perfect, even if you could mistake her as a corpse. You lay your head back down. Your parents wouldn’t mind if you were home a little late, right?
-
After that, you and Regina would meet to smoke behind the school almost every day, except when Regina had plans with her friends and you would just go alone. You still wish she wasn’t there, but sometimes she’s okay to talk to when she isn’t being a priss. She complains about her friends and boys and how sometimes in the morning her eyelash curler refuses to work. It’s entertaining to hear about how shallow her problems are. You still want to punch her most of the time, though.
This time around, however, she’s complaining about math. Something about her teacher failing her on purpose or something to make her have sex with him to get her grade up. You seriously doubt that’s true, but you listen anyway.
“Like, he’s totally obsessed with me. I know how to do the work, but he always marks it as wrong anyway. That Cady girl helps me with it, and she’s some kind of math freak.” Regina exclaims, taking a huge hit from the smoking can. She immediately sputters and you take the can back from her with a slight roll of your eyes. That’s probably enough for her.
��Is she, though?” you ask, taking a hit from the can yourself. “She’s in my Calc class and lately she’s been doing really shitty. I guess you guys are rubbing off on her,” you say with amusement.
Regina takes a deep breath, an agitated sigh coming out of her. “What’s the point of her tutoring me, then? They’re gonna take me off the soccer team if I don’t start passing like all of my classes. It’s like she wants me to fail.” she seethes, and she sounds genuinely upset. She could afford to pay attention in class instead of doing her makeup if better grades is what she wants, but alas.
You kind of want to offer to help her, but it’s her own fault so you bite your tongue. You put the can down with a sharp sigh. You’d rather not smoke too much around her in fear that you’ll start acting stupid and she’ll post it all over the internet. Just the slightly more giggly high is fine for now.
Regina stares bullets through you as your stash back under the pile of leaves. You pick up your backpack and get ready to leave. You feel fine enough to walk home.
“You’re not gonna offer to help me?” she asks indignantly, as if you owed it to her. You have to bite your lip to keep from groaning in annoyance. Could she be any more of a spoiled brat?
“Why would I do that?” you respond, feeling that your distaste seeps through your voice as well as your expression. You’re tired, both from school and from hanging out with Regina for too long. You just want to go home.
“Because I’m keeping your secret?” she says with that tone that reminds you of a viper. The one she uses to get whatever she wants from people by threatening to ruin them. Your chest bubbles with that same anger as that day in the cafeteria.
“Dude, I’m literally your plug. I’ve done enough for you to keep your mouth shut.” you snap, slinging your backpack over your shoulder. She was really starting to piss you off. That’s how it was with Regina; just when you think she’s all right, she starts doing this bullshit again.
“So what? I don’t need weed. I can break our deal whenever I want. Besides, you’ll only tutor me until the end of the month. It’s not that deep.” It’s only the beginning of October, so you’d be wasting more of your time with her for the next month, but of course she doesn’t include that. God, you’re so pissed off, but what can you do? Not be able to smoke anymore? Get suspended again? You hate that she can just hang this over your head until you comply. You bite your lip hard enough to draw blood as you stare at her, one of her hands on her hip and her eyebrows raised as if you’re a dog she just told to heel that won’t listen. Your hands bunch into tight fists until your knuckles turn white. You really wish you had seen her with that bruise right about now.
“Fine.” you spit, pushing your way out of the clearing and back towards the school. Great. Now it would take even longer to shake Regina off. You shoulder branches of leaves out of your way, your feet kicking at the dirt. You wished she could just be fucking normal and that she never started any of this in the first place.
“I better see you tomorrow, loser!” You hear Regina scream from somewhere behind you. God, you were gonna kill her. Or yourself. Whichever came first.
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coolaboutlucy · 3 months
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𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙣𝙚𝙜𝙤𝙩𝙞𝙖𝙩𝙤𝙧𝙨 𝙢𝙪𝙨𝙚 | 𝙚. 𝙬𝙞𝙡𝙡𝙞𝙖𝙢𝙨
pairing: nepo baby!business owner!ellie williams x afab!business owner!reader
tags: smut, fingering (r receiving), pet names/name calling?? (dirty girl, pretty, good girl, baby), slight praise??, god why is tagging so hard, mild language, unethical business practices??, thoughts are green, ellie lowk an asshole, but both reader and ellie are pretty harsh to eachother, maybe that’s it, bare with me if i forget something pls. 😭🙏
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a/n: i wrote this directly on tumblr bc i did NAWT feel like pulling up google docs today saur the format might be a lil off. i was watching this show on netflix called ‘locked up’, and like an episode from season two is what inspired this!!! 😜 the show is good honestly it just drags on sometimes!!! ive actually never actually written smut any times before this (believe it or not hehe) anyways, let’s get into it!!!
P.S - DEDICATED TO @sweetysaccharine YAWP YAWP!!!! <333 HOPE U ENJOY POOKIEEEE
P.P.S - don’t look at the typos or i will find you (IM JOKING)
rumors traveled fast, and sometimes it wasn’t always good. for one, they could be infuriating. a company you’d been toe to toe with for.. quite some time had gotten a new ceo. some young girl. articles appeared online about some kinda nepotism scandal. the photo on the top of the article displayed a photo of the previous ceo — joel miller, and the new owner, ellie. they looked happy. but why were they accused of something as harmful as nepotism? long story short, joel turned his brother down for the position (even though he was the better option) so ellie could have it. favoritism of sorts. but god was she infuriating! her stupid, flashy displays of wealth (that probably didn’t even belong to her) made you so mad! and also, her arrogance and her constant need to compete with you was very infuriating aswell. you had influence, she had money. wouldn’t these things be considered as a double kill in some perfect world? yes. would you ever even consider working with someone like her? absolutely not. you couldn’t even stand being in the same vicinity as her whenever you two ended up at the same social events.
imagine that terrible, ugly feeling of anger that coursed hot through your veins once finding out she’d brought possibly one of the biggest clients you could’ve ever had. it was one thing for her to shove it in your face that she was wealthy but this? she’d completely overstepped. storming your way through the companies large building, you find yourself at her offices door knocking like a madwoman. “open the goddamn door, williams!” you yell as you attempt to open the door on your own. she doesn’t say anything, but you’re just almost certain she’s smirking or something. she opens the door with this.. look. it was weird. a perfect mixture of condescending, arrogance, and ‘i know what i did and i don’t regret it’. “are you insane?” “mm.. yeah. i guess so.” you laugh, dumbfounded by her. “how bout you come into my office for a seat and a drink?” she asked with a raised eyebrow. “let’s handle this civilly, shall we? knowing you, i have the feeling that this could get real ugly.” she pushed open the door with that same condescending/arrogant smile. of course, reluctantly, you walk inside. maybe this could be resolved civilly.
the sound of some smooth music played. it sounded like micheal buble or something. she walks around her desk to pour you a glass of bourbon. she hands it to and you just hold it. “it’s not poisoned, see?” she says before taking a sip. you take a sip and of it before putting the glass on her desk. “so, i realized that.. i have something you want.” the something being that client. “why else would i be here? that was a really petty move and you know that.” she chuckled. “yknow, i could just.. refer them back to you.” initially, you’re in disbelief. ellie? being generous? no way. she must’ve completely lost it. “but! it comes with a price.” of course it does. nothing was free, not in this economy. you kept your expectations low for this very reason. you raise an eyebrow at her. “we could work together. become business partners.”
she turns her music up a little. she dances her way over to you, circling you a bit. “no chance, ellie. how could i ever work with someone like you?” she chuckled again. “why wouldn’t you work with ‘someone like me’? you have something that i want aswell.” “what?” “power. influence. however you may wanna word it. i admire that.” it had to be some sick joke. why would she wanna work with you? “shouldn’t all your daddys money be more than enough to keep you in a position of power?” you quarry, then crossing your arms. a part of you didn’t believe that she’d been the one asking you for help.
“just think about it. me, giving you money. you, drawing power hungry clients in with that pretty face of yours. we’d work together like yin and yang.” she proposed before taking another sip of the drink in her glass. that was her giving a go at an analogy. was it good? she didn’t know. did she care? not at all. “you bullshitting me, williams?” “not at all. all you gotta do.. is say ‘yes’. cmon.” she offers her hand, those pretty slender fingers and that tattoo that peeking from underneath that black button up shirt were just so.. enticing. you were in your head, just thinking. was this a good idea? could i trust her? she probably has bad intentions. but she was so tempting. this had to be one of the seven deadly sins or something.
she snaps infront of your face. “where’d you go?” she asks. “nowhere.” you respond quickly. “so, you taking the offer or not? or.. will i have to convince you?” she takes a step closer to you. temptation taints your brain.
you’re not in control of your thoughts anymore. ellie was.
her hand seeks solace on your waist. “shouldn’t finding business like this be considered illegal?” you whisper to her. “im not a law abiding woman. and quite frankly, i don’t give two shits.” maybe it wouldn’t be illegal if nobody knew. but all you thought about was her. how she smells. how she’s looking at you. how her hands feel on your body. you can’t stop yourself. your lips crash down onto hers. your fingers tangle in her auburn hair as the both of you kiss passionately. she brings you to her desk, knocking stuff over as she sat you on her desk.
glass shattered, pictures were knocked out of their frames, and her computer mouse was.. somewhere. your back arches into her touch as you let out a soft moan into her mouth. she takes the opportunity to slide her tongue into your mouth. in the competition of dominance between your tongues, she reigns supreme. her hands slide up your body and end up on your oxford button up shirt. she doesn’t unbutton it, she rips that shit open. “i’ll get you a new one.” she mumbled as the buttons from the shirt scatter across the room.
“you’d better. or else id have to come back here and get it by force.” “oh please, you’ll be back here for more reasons than a goddamn shirt.” she said as she peppers kisses down to your jawline, then your neck. “don’t leave any marks.” “but why?” “oh, i dunno, cause i don’t want anyone asking me who i had sex with?” “who gives a shit? your workers get paid to look the other way, don’t they?”
well, she makes a good point. and you can’t argue with a point as valid as that. she sinks her teeth into a sweet spot of your neck, making you moan out as she runs her tongue along the new mark. she sticks her tongue out again to run it all the way down to one of your boobs. the sensation makes you shiver. “wore this pretty bra for me, didntcha? you were just expecting this. you must’ve wanted me to touch you like this, didn’t you? dirty girl. must’ve been waiting for me to bend you over this table.” she rambled all while stripping you of your bra, then leaving soft kisses and licks across the valley of your breasts.
she takes her time, making you wait for it. she knew what she was doing to you, and she was going to make you wait. “ellie, you’re going soo slow! you know what i want.” you whine as she leaves kisses and bites all over your exposed skin. “tell me what you want or you’ll get nothing. tell me where you want me.” she whispered. “i want your fingers.” “where?” “you know where.” “tell me or you get nothing.” you hesitate for a moment before saying feebly. “in.. in my pussy..” “that’s a good girl.”
she smiles as she pushes her hands into your slacks. she could feel your wetness. “i got you this worked up, huh? who knew little miss perfect could get this wet over me, a ‘nepo baby’?” she teased with a cocky smile. she slowly slides your slacks and underwear all the way down to your ankles before she applies a delicious amount of pressure to your clit. you gasp, your hand wrapping around her wrist. “oh, you like that do you, huh? you want more? fucking beg for it. cmon.” she applies more pressure to your clit, rubbing small and soft circles as her fingers ghost your sopping entrance. “oh— please ellie, i need more. give me more.” “gonna take more than that, baby.” you whine when she suddenly takes all that pressure away from you.
you let out another whine as you attempt to rut against her hand. her free hand slaps your thigh as she shakes her head in disapproval. “none of that. keep still. you get nothing until you beg like a good girl.” “please, please. ill do anything. just please touch me.” she chuckles at you. she found it cute how you were so desperate to chase that pleasure. “god, you’re so desperate. you need it so.. goddamn bad, don’t you?” she lets out a grunt in the middle of her sentence as she suddenly plunged into your pussy.
as she moves her fingers, she groans at how wet her you were. first she starts with middle finger, then adding her ring finger. her long fingers are hitting that sweet spot in you. she was making you see stars. “listen to yourself. look at ‘er, she’s crying for me.” she coos as she speeds her pace. you moan out. “watch me, baby.” you slowly look down at her fingers plunging in and out of you. sounds of wet squelching fill your ears. you bite your lip and you toss your head back as you let out a moan. you grind yourself down onto her fingers, chasing that wonderful and blissful orgasm.
you felt a pressure building up in your stomach. your eyes were fluttering open and shut. everytime you looked away, she stopped. you made sure to not look away. once that pressure in your stomach felt like it was gonna release, your moans became more broken. “ellie! ellie— oh fuck! ellie! im gonna cum! don’t stop, please don’t stop!” you say between moans as you bring your hand back down to hold her wrist in place.
“oh yeah? gonna cum? let go for me. make a mess on my fingers. cmon. i know you can do it.” she said as she kept her pace at that same one that was making you see stars. she’d been rambling something to you, talking you through it as she watched you cum all over her fingers. she helps you ride out your orgasm, a slight tremble in your legs becoming more apparent.
“what do we say?” “thank you.” she smiled as she pulled her fingers out. the sudden loss makes you whine. she sucks her fingers clean and you watch as her tongue runs across the length of her fingers. “still being a tease, williams?” you ask as you look at her while she does it. “mm.. well no, i dont think so. just savouring how good you taste.” when she was finally satisfied, she drops her hands. “so, you finally ready to stop being so stubborn and take the deal?” “not a chance if it means we get to have sex like this.” you respond with a chuckle. “maybe you need to be fucked again, hm?” she ask with a smile.
needless to say, you’d went another time, and on the third you fucked ellie. eventually you come to some sort of agreement after you’d been laid on her leather sofa, naked and feeling like you were floating. the only question you had now is what the hell had you gotten into. “will this turn into a scandal?” you ask. “.. probably not if we keep this under wraps.” she responds as she puts her head in the crook of your neck, pressing soft kisses to it. “plus, yknow i can just pay the media off right? they won’t say anything. not a peep.” she reassured as she smiled softly.
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smileysuh · 7 months
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ghostie - TEASER
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🌙 staring. Johnny x afab!Reader
🔮 preview. As one am rolls around, you start to realize that maybe tonight you won’t get a call. He is a frat boy, and this is Halloween weekend.  You’re disappointed as you get into bed, frowning as you scroll on your phone, hoping that if you wait another five minutes, maybe he’ll catch you. Five minutes turns into ten, turns into fifteen, and you find your eyes beginning to shut. You’re starting to understand how much you truly have come to depend on Ghostie as part of your nightly ritual. It hurts not to get a call from your favourite voice-modulated anonymous frat boy.
tw/cw. yandere/stalker subthemes, unknown caller, weed use, multiple reader orgasms, big dick!Johnny, oral, pussy eating, blowjob, deep throating, spit as lube, fingering, hand riding, dacryphilia, praise, dirty talk, cum/fullness kink, unprotected sex, heavy grinding, dick bulge, creampie, rough groping, slight restraint, size kink, submissive reader, subspace, dumbification, hair pulling, finger sucking, etc… I pet names: (hers) Tiny, good girl, pretty girl. (his) Ghostie.
👹 rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 15k
🍭 aus. uni/frat au, yandere subthemes, Halloween, etc…
☀️ mlist + an. this might just be the best John fic I've ever written, or maybe I just need therapy
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“Mark told me you’re probably a stalker, said I should maybe block your number.”
“I don’t have a number, if I did, that would be too easy for you. I’m an unknown caller… can you even block unknown callers?” 
“I guess we’ll find out when I block you.”
“Won’t happen though. What did you do after your class with Mark?”
“Are you really that interested in my day?” 
“I wouldn’t be asking if I wasn’t interested.”
He’s a cocky softy, who would have imagined. 
You wonder what you ever did to make this guy so sweet on you- you’ve dated men who don’t even care to ask you how your day went, and this guy is out here doing it practically for free.
“Classes were okay, my sorority had a little fundraiser at lunch, we baked cupcakes.”
“They were good cupcakes.” 
“Wait…” your stomach churns a little. “You stopped by?”
“I’m a sucker for cupcakes, and how cute your butt looks in blue jeans.”
You search your memory, counting how many NCT boys came through around lunch. You realize that there were far too many for it to do any good in deciphering which one is the man you’re currently talking to.
“Did we talk?”
“You talked to everyone who bought something. I’m not special.”
Except… he kind of is special, in a way you can’t truly explain… not yet anyways.
“Maybe you are a stalker,” you decide.
“I can promise you I’m not, but I bet you’d be kind of into it if I was.”
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One or the Other
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Pairings: Steve Rogers x female!reader x Sebastian Stan
Summary: after hooking up with Bucky and not telling Steve, you’ve been letting the guilt get to you. Good thing bad it doesn’t have to.
Warnings: minors dni, smut, perceived cheating, manipulation, knotting, unprotected sex, non con, oral sex, Daddy kink
[A/N: yaaaay finally. Lmao I rewrote this so many times so omg I’m happy it’s finally done I hope all of you like it 😀☺️ this is unedited as I write it on tumblr’s writing thing and autocorrect is ass and and I… make mistakes lmao. Please don’t forget to like and comment. If you really really like it I’m taking tips CA: $allieday27 & PP: @allieafbh. Thanks so much for reading guys. You know I love coming back to you 💜 ✌🏾)
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“He wouldn’t what?”
This time Steve said it with a scoff, as the words had just come from his boyfriend’s lips. Don’t even know how you’d gotten to this topic. Definitely didn’t feel appropriate for the dinner table even if you were at the point where the bill was being paid. Especially not the swanky restaurant they’d had you sitting in all dressed up like you were their shared date.
Hell they’d all but asked for that anyway. Had told you they were taking you out and to be ready by seven. It’d been about a month since you’d started living with them anyway. Bucky had clearly meant it when he said he liked the housewife look on you as it self like that’d pretty much had been what you’d become.
Who else would become the lady of the house if not for the lady of the house. Especially as they’d kept you sleeping in between them. Had been feeling bad for their lack of intimacy even, but they insisted it was fine.
It wasn’t like the three of you hadn’t talked about sex before. Sure you hadn’t gone into detail, but you’d never call yourself a prude. Normally. But all of that was before Bucky had tasted your pussy. Before Steve had started kissing you goodnight every single night as the two of you fell asleep on the same bed.
And now like that first night it was Steve’s turn to find out your dirty little secret. That you’d been dating a man who wouldn’t do what his boyfriend easily did. Behind his back. And fuck it made you feel like the worst kind of person.
“Tell him, Y/N,” Bucky insisted, as if it was pressing news, but after they’d scared him shitless when they went to retrieve your things the day before they’d been a little hyped off their own egos.
“I mean… yeah… I know but-,”
“But what?” Steve laughed. “I just never took you as the type to settle.”
You crinkled your nose at his words. Looking over at Bucky who seemed just as curious to hear your answer. “I mean what can I say, it wasn’t like he was bad in bad necessarily he just said he didn’t like it.” You tried excusing it away. Not exactly wanting to be the topic of conversation anymore.
Bucky and Steve looked to one another. Sharing a knowing glance before Steve reached over to place his hand over yours. “Any man would be lucky to eat your pussy.”
“Steve!” You gasped, ripping your hand away from him. Looking around to make sure no one heard as the two of them laughed. So unlike him anyway. What happened to the reserved sweetheart the world had come to love.
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” His laughter slowed to light hearted chuckles. “But I mean it.” He shrugged. “Right, Bucky?”
Who was the best and worst person to ask this question to. Your face heating up as he smirked at you. Making you squirm under his icy gaze. “Definitely, Doll.”
You crossed your arms, looking away from the both of them to try and gather your thoughts. Could feel their eyes on you as they changed the conversation. Already feeling cruddy enough that you’d let your best friends boyfriend touch you like that or that you hadn’t been able to get it out of your head since it happened.
The annoying craving you hadn’t been able to shake of wanting him to do it again, but maybe even more. Maybe even worse. Had been craving the way he talked at you. Which was making all of this really difficult right now.
As you looked back over to them you saw them do these little smiles before pecking each others lips. The romantic gesture causing your heart to ache a little. Which was so annoying as you’d never felt like that before. My how things can change in a month.
“Where you going?” Came from my mouth as soon as Steve stood up.
“Bathroom. Why you gonna miss me?” He teased.
“Definitely,” you mumbled as he leaned down to kiss your forehead. The spot tingling as he walked away. Bucky still keeping his eyes on you as if he was being paid to baby sit you.
“Did I tell you, you look nice tonight?” He said after a few moments of silence. As if he didn’t know. Before you left the house him and Steve had called you pretty so many times you were scared it was adding to your ego.
“Once or twice,” you replied, face feeling hot. Not that you wanted him to affect you like this.
Bucky looked his lips before they turned up in a smile. “What do you wanna do after this?” He asked. “Too pretty for us to just take you home. Gotta show you off.”
“It’s fine,” you replied. “Besides I’m getting kinda tired.” He narrowed his eyes before standing up. Coming to sit on the same side as you in the empty booth. “What are you doing?” You asked with a chuckle.
“Tired my ass. Come on, Doll. What do you wanna do? We could go dancing or maybe get some ice cream,” he named off before stopping. “Actually… that ice cream sounds really good.” He hummed before bringing his lips close to your ear. “Maybe I could eat it off of ya?”
“Bucky!” You smacked his leg making him laugh.
“I’m just messing with you, Doll.” He didn’t stop his laughter, “but actually that doesn’t sound like too bad of an idea.”
You glared at him as he smirked. Clearly proud of himself for his ability to make you squirm. If anything it was only egging him on. Wanted to see how far he could push you.
“Remind me to schedule an ice cream date for us one of these days,” he said, placing a hand on your thighs. The dress you were wearing was the one they helped you pick it when they took you shopping. Said you couldn’t wear any of the rags you wore on dates with Bryce while with them. As if it had bothered them before.
They weren’t lying when they said it had hugged four curves real well. Made you look like a grown woman. Could have sworn you saw Bucky’s pants get a little tighter when you modeled it for them. Now he was feeling all up on you without a care in the world when his partner could have come back at any moment.
“Fuck, Doll, you’re the prettiest fucking girl in his place,” he whispered in your ear. Free hand grabbing onto yours as the other moved circles on your thigh.
“Bucky,” you whimpered out. Already feeling like putty under his touch. “We can’t.”
“I’m not doing anything,” he said before kissing the side of your neck.
“What if he comes back,” you turned to him.
“We’re. Not. Doing. Anything,” he whispered in your ear again. Hands creeping dangerously close to your center. “See. I’m not the only one that thinks it’s insane that your boyfriend wasn’t eating you out. I ate you out once and now I can’t stop thinking about it.”
A soft gasp left your mouth as he kissed your neck again. As if there wasn’t anyone that could see the two of you in a restaurant full of people. It was like he didn’t care. Worse then that he was giving you exactly what you’d been wanting and you did not want him stopping even though this was the last thing either of you needed to be doing.
“But what about Steve?” You gasped out. “We can’t just-,”
“Steve’s fine,” he cut you off. “I think you wanna get caught. You naughty little-,”
“Alright you two ready to go?” Steve came back finally coming to sit on the side he’d already been occupying. Bucky was pulling away like shit didn’t happen
“Yeah. We were just thinking about what we should do after this,” Bucky sobered up. “What do you say doll. Keep it innocent and let us take you out for ice cream.”
And this man damn well knew he was far from innocent.
——————————————————
From the ice cream shop you were happy they were letting you call it a night. Not that you hadn’t been having fun, but you were definitely going to need a cold shower or something. Something felt strange about touching yourself while in their bed even when they weren’t home and right now you could use some kind of relief.
Had gotten off a few times in the shower but it just wasn’t the same. Even in the bathtub it was like none of it was ever enough. Funny how after all that time with Bryce you’d never felt this desperate but Bucky tongue fucks you and turns you into an addict and he hadn’t even made you cum yet.
“Damn, you’re making a big mess,” Bucky laughed as the ice cream dripped off onto your chest. Wanting to not chance it getting on your dress. “Gonna have to buy you a bib next.”
You glared at him before trying to smack his shoulder only for him to grab your hand. “Hey!” Not that he cared as he overpowered you. Leaning down so he could lick up the sticky liquid. “Bucky!”
Steve laughed beside the two of you. Shaking his head. “Gotta be tastier than eating it off the cone.”
You glared at him, but before you could say anything, Bucky grabbed the cone to hit it against your chest. The cold making you jump as Steve’s laughter increased. “Want a taste?” Bucky offered.
“Hey!” You protested, standing up. Looking down at the now dairy covered fabric. “What the hell!”
“Chill, Doll. We’re just messing around.” He laughed.
"I’m just gonna go shower,” you walked off to the guest room that had been used for your clothes that no one had bothered to make fine for you to sleep in. Regretting it tonight since you definitely needed some kind of alone time.
As you’d gathered your things to go to the bathroom you groaned seeing the door closed with the light on underneath. Fucking nice. “You ok?” Steve’s voice came from behind you making you jump. A smile turning up on his lips as you put your hands on your sticky chest cringing at the feeling. “Bucky got you pretty good, huh.”
“Yeah.” You mumbled.
“Come on. I’ll help you get cleaned up.”
“It’s fine. I’m gonna shower anyway.”
“I know, but just… let me help you, Doll.”
With that you followed him to the kitchen where he grabbed a towel to wet it. Gabbing it along your chest as you reached up to take it. “I can do it,” you said, but found yourself faltering as he looked into your eyes.
“I know, but I like taking care of you. Me and Bucky. We both do,” he said softly. “We hope you like it too.”
You nodded, lost in his gaze as he kept dabbing along your chest. “I mean I do, but-,” you stopped.
“But, what? You know you can talk to me.”
But I’ve been messing around with your boyfriend on the low? Felt so strange trying to come out and just say it. Even if you should have. “I know,” you whispered. With his half smile he leaned in to kiss your cheek. Letting his lips linger on your skin. “Steve, I…” you trailed off, chest feeling heavy. Bad enough Bucky had already worked you up.
“Talk to me, Doll,” he whispered lips close to yours now. His breath fanning against your skin.
“You know what we need?” Bucky’s voice boomed as he came into the room, making you fling yourself away. Steve stood there sober as hell still with a smirk on his face. Fuck it was like the two of them were trying to give you whiplash.
“What is it, Buck?” Steve asked.
“We are way too sober. I’ll just run to the liquor store real quick.”
Yeah cuz that’s what the three of you needed. Alcohol.
—————————————————-
That shower really didn’t do much to curb the invasive thoughts you were having. Or the aching between your thighs. Had been feeling so pent up that it was no wonder you couldn’t get it together.
Bucky was still gone and Steve was holding two records in his hand. “What do you think, Doll?” He asked holding up the two options.
“Doesn’t matter,” you mumbled.
Steve hummed in response before deciding for himself. Music soon filling the room after. Not like you hadn’t grown to like their 1940’s tastes as much as they’d been willing for you to show them your own music.
He sat down beside you. The two of you letting the music play around you as you lost yourself in thought. Had been trying to take your eyes off of his broad shoulders or anything else that might make your mouth water.
Sat through the first song, still not speaking until the next one started up. “Oh! You have to dance with me,” Steve blurted out.
“Huh?”
“Dance with me? Please.” He stood up, holding out his hand.
With a sigh you nodded. Taking his hand in yours so he could help you up. Even if you thought it was the last thing you should be doing. Ignoring the sparks that shot through your arm. Besides it was only a dance.
Steve snugly wrapped his arms around you, chin going to the top of your head. “This is nice,” he said, swaying back and forth with you.
Could feel how strong he was like this. Had gotten used to this in bed but it wasn’t like Bucky wasn’t right there. Had never felt all of him all alone.
Sure you’d hugged before, but guess you’d never felt so small next to him before. Your head starting to swim as if you’d had more to drink. Guess the two glasses of wine at dinner were starting to get to you.
“Did you have a good time tonight?” Steve asked, trying to force you to make conversation somehow. His insistence making you crack a smile as you’d had found yourself a little too comfortable in his chest.
“Mhm,” you hummed. “Until Bucky got ice cream on my dress.”
He laughed at that. “Well, to be fair, it did look pretty tasty.”
You looked up at him. Face all scrunched up. “You’re not supposed to agree!”
Another laugh left his lips as he looked down at you. “What do you want me to say.”
“I don’t know!” You rolled your eyes. “Go, hey, Y/N, sorry my boyfriend’s such an ass and spilled ice cream all over your tits.”
It only made him laugh more. “Well first of all, watch your mouth, Doll. And second it was only ice cream.”His words made your head jerk back. Except his arms tightened around you so you couldn’t step away. “Besides we had fun anyway.”
He rubbed his hands up and down your back. The spot he touched feeling so hot even through the t-shirt you were wearing. Not like he wasn’t right. Had been enjoying yourself you just felt so tense with the sneaking.
“We did,” you agreed.
“Something wrong?” He asked.
You shook your head. Going back to putting your cheek against his chest. “Just tired,” you mumbled.
“Aw, Honey.” He cooed, placing a kiss on your forehead. The spot tingling once again. “Guess I’m just surprised, though. Since the two of you had been fucking I’m surprised you’re so shy.”
With that said, it felt like someone had punched you in the gut. A sharp intake of air as if you’d been plunged into the Arctic. “Steve, we didn’t-,”
He laughed. “What? You didn’t think I’d know? Didn’t think I’d notice him touching you under the covers every night.”
“What? We haven’t.” You shook your head. “We- we didn’t. Not like that,” feeling yourself panicking.
Steve finally let you out of his hold but made sure to grab your hand. “Calm down, Doll,” he laughed. What the hell. “It’s ok.”
“I just- I’ve been wanting to tell you- and I’m sorry- I… I…,” you struggled to get the words out, “I promise I wanted to tell you i just-,”
“Doll, it’s. Fine.” Emphasizing each word. Bringing you back into him so his hands could go to your hips. “Can’t believe you didn’t think I’d already know. Think Buck wouldn’t have told me?”
You shrugged. “I don’t know. He never said- I mean we never really talked about it,” you said, feeling that familiar prickle in your eyes as you tried to hold in your tears. “It just… happened. I promise it was only once… kind of. And-,”
“Doll,” he pressed. “It’s okay.” With that pulling you over to the couch. Taking. A seat and pulling you down with him. Right on his lap. “What you don’t believe me?” He asked, putting his hand on your cheek. Stroking it with his thumb. “If it wasn’t alright you wouldn’t be here, Baby.” He chuckled. “Especially after all that Bryce shit.”
“I just… I don’t know what I would have done without you both, ya know.” Your voice cracked as a tear slid down your face. “I didn’t have anywhere else to go and-,”
“Hey,” he whispered. Hooking a finger under your chin to make you look at him. “Relax.” Catching you off guard as he placed his lips on your cheek. The warmth of him making you melt. “That’s it. That’s our girl. My girl.”
Breath hitching in your throat. “Steve…” you couldn’t help yourself as you said his name. Brain already feeling too fuzzy.
The blond licked his lips while glancing down at yours. “What is it, Baby? Tell me what you want.”
“I’m just… thankful,” was all you could muster.
Steve chuckled. “Oh come on. I think you and I both know what you want.”
Your bottom lip quivered. “I don’t-,”
But, before you could say finish he cut you off with a kiss. At first you sat on his lap frozen. Even as your heart fluttered. Not like any girl wouldn’t get like this from kissing Captain America.
Which was the problem. You weren’t supposed to be like the rest of them. “We can’t,” you forced yourself to move away.
“Says who?” He scoffed.
“I don’t get you two,” you abruptly stood up before he could react. “What was this whole thing some kind of long con to fuck me.” You stood in front of him with your arms crossed.
He shook his head. Standing up with you. “Of course not. Even if we- look if you didn’t want this, none of this would change. The problem is I know you want it. Stop pretending you don’t.”
With that his hands were back to pulling you close. Arms still folded in front of you. Not like you could deny it.
“I can fucking smell how wet you are, Doll,” he whispered in your ear. “Think Daddy doesn’t know how horny you’ve been for him.”
Your jaw dropped at that. Never thought you’d hear words like that coming from Steve of all people. So quickly too you hadn’t even-
“Steve-,”
“Nuh uh,” he said, not caring anymore as his hands went down to your ass. You jumped closer to him. That only made him smile again. “Don’t bullshit me, Baby. I can fucking smell it on you.” He laughed. “How fucking wet you are. That you’re ovulating. Bet if I touched you right now you’d cream all over.”
“Steve!” You gasped. Could not believe you’d been hearing such vulgarity from Steve of all people. Or… huh.
“But am I wrong?” He came back to sit. This time instead of sitting, you straddled him. Feeling his bulge press into your center. The sensation making you yelp.
Didn’t even get the chance to answer him as he put his hands under your ass. Gripping the flesh in his palms. Not caring as you twitched up as you came back down on top of him.
It wasn’t like you didn’t know him and Bucky are attracted to women. Just had never expected them to be attracted to you. Yet there you were on top of one after the other had gone down on you. The other positioning you right over his dick that you could tell by the feeling would no way fit inside of you.
Yet as a moan fell from your lips, you know you were definitely a goner. The point of no return and then some. “That’s right. Why are you trying to play like you don’t want it, Baby. Knew you weren’t going to say no to me.”
“Steve-,” you couldn’t help it as you whimpered out.
“Unless you’re going to beg for my dick right now I don’t want to fucking hear it,” he growled. “Getting sick of your fucking mouth.”
Another whimper coming from you. Don’t know why you would be reacting to him like this after he talked to you like that. Something about it making you want to do as he said. Listen. Be good.
“That’s my girl, huh,” he whispered. “That’s my puppy isn’t it. You’re always such a good fucking girl for me, aren’t you?” He hissed.
It was all happening so quickly. No chance to react as he started kissing you again. This time not pulling away. Wrapping your arms around his neck. Hands still massaging your ass.
Wasn’t long before you were flipped on your back with him hovering on top of you. Hooking your leg over his hip. Moaning into his mouth as he ground his crotch into yours.
His tongue fighting yours for dominance even though you were already sure of your role. He’d get his way. Already had. Wasn’t like you wanted to tell him no.
Steve pulled away so he could kiss down your neck. “Cant believe that asshole wouldn’t eat you out,” he said. “All I can fucking think about and he wouldn’t do it? Fucking loser.” Had never heard him talk like this before, but you’d be lying if you said it had no effect on you.
“Steve,” You whimpered.
“Ah ah ah, that’s not what you call me. Say it right or I’ll stop.”
No. He can’t stop why would he stop! Doesn’t he see that he was making you come undone so easily. Didn’t it mean anything to him. “I don’t- I - Daddy,” You remembered.
Steve smirked. “That’s a good girl. Take this shit off.” Barely giving you the chance to react as he yanked you up so he could pull your shirt off in one fell swoop. Breasts on full display as he licked his chops. “Fuck,” he said before leaning down to take one of your nipples into his mouth.
“Daddy!” You mewled from the contact as he made a show of circling his tongue around one of the nub.
“That’s it. Fuck. You little slut. Have you been sleeping between us without a bra on this whole time,” he asked taking it between his teeth.
“I can’t sleep with one on,” you sounded so goddamn whiny, but you couldn’t help it.
“You don’t have to lie, Doll. You been waiting for me to taste you, huh?”
Not that it was your plan, but shit you kind of wish it had been been. “I didn’t mean to,” you whimpered.
“Didn’t mean to what? First you didn’t mean to fuck my boyfriend and now you didn’t mean for me to fuck you?”
“He didn’t!” You protested.
Steve got back on his knees. Grabbing your cheeks in his hand. “What did I say about you watching your damn mouth?” He asked. Teeth barred, eyes narrow. Looking like he was ready to devour you.
“He didn’t. I promise.” You whined. “I wouldn’t do that to you. I wouldn’t.”
Steve’s eyes softened at that. Watching you lay there flat on your back at his mercy. Even still trying to be a good friend. Well… as good as one as you could be in a situation like this. Isn’t that why they needed you. Your sense of loyalty.
Were loyal to Bryce when he definitely didn’t deserve it. Had shown yourself so many times to have had their back when no one else did. Things had been hard as hell when they first came out about their relationship and yet there you were.
Had gotten so close to them that it started to feel like you were part of them. Then Bryce of all fucking people had the nerve to get jealous. Except he should have been. If they’d known how easy you would have folded they would have done this sooner actually.
So as your pleas came from your mouth insisting you were telling the truth, something about it… he doesn’t know. He was Steve Rogers after all. It really was no wonder that it somehow only made him harder. Still you saw the glimpse of the Steve you normally saw.
“I promise. I’m sorry,” you pleaded. “I was feeling so cruddy. I didn’t wanna hurt you.”
“Hey, hey,” he whispered, leaning down to kiss you softly. “It’s ok. It’s ok.” All your emotions were clearly bubbling out as he came to sit up. Bringing you with him. “It’s ok. It’s ok,” he whispered softly. Kissing your temple.
“I just-,” you wiped your eyes. “I just don’t understand.”
“About what, Doll?” He asked, having not pulled his mouth away from you.
“Is this all you two wanted. I thought- I though-,”
Steve stopped you with a kiss. “Relax,” he said against your lips. You quivered and he didn’t stop. Peck after peck after peck. “Can you do that for me?”
You nodded. Not like you hadn’t been kissing him back. It was instinctive at this point. That ache still there. Wanted to feel his teeth back on your breasts. Just wanted him. “Daddy,” you moaned again. Can’t believe how easy it was for you to flip into it.
Steve deepened it after that. Starting to get up and holding you closer to him when you gasped in surprise. Not wanting to break the moment so he went right back to it. Carrying you to the bedroom.
He dropped you down on the bed getting on his knees this time in front of you. Finally breaking your embrace. Hurrying to pull off the little shorts you were wearing. Panties coming off with it. “No more clothes at bedtime,” he mumbled putting his lips on your thigh. Something about him seemed so thirsty.
Like he was dying to lap at your- as soon as his tongue touched you it was like you melted. Sinking down into the mattress. “Steve!” You moaned.
Hands going to his hair. Nails digging into his scalp. Steve groaned against you. Taking long licks from the bottom of your pussy to your clit. “Cant believe he wouldn’t eat you out. What a fucking loser.” Steve pulled away to laugh. Using his thumb against it now. “Taste so good.”
Going back to putting his mouth on you. Mouth falling open as you laid back back. Arms going above your head as you cried out. Shit. Between him and Bucky you can’t believe you’d settled for less for so long.
“I’m gonna cum,” you moaned, getting louder as that familiar. Snap ran through you. “You’re gonna make me- you’re gonna- I’m gonna- you’re gonna make me-,” you said hips moving back and forth.
His pointer finger rubbed your entrance only turning the intensity up. Made worse when he pushed it inside of you. Middle finger joining soon after. Making you yelp as he curled his fingers inside of you.
“I’m fucking cumming!” Your eyes rolled into back of your head as it finally happened. Couldn’t remember the last time you had an orgasm. Had interrupted Bucky before he could properly get you off and you’d been so pent up ever since. Needed this so bad.
“That’s it, Baby,” he hissed pulling away as you squirted into his hand. “That’s our fucking girl.” You tried to close your legs, but all Steve did was yank them open. Clearly hungry for you as he went back to what he was doing.
Soon enough he stood up. Unbutton his shirt wanting to sit up to help, but all you could do was convulse before him. He smirked down at you. Enjoying the view of you clearly stuck in ecstasy. Wanted to know what else he could get out of you. Dying to feel you wrapped around him.
“Tell me how bad you want it,” he said kneeling down in front of you. Now naked and ready to give you every single inch.
He rubbed his dick against your slit. Making you mewl for him. How the hell could he expect you to say words right now. “I need it so bad, Daddy. Please fuck me,” you begged.
Didn’t need to ask twice. Steve lined up with you. Tip against your slit. Leaning back down to kiss you. Making you taste yourself on his tongue. Nails digging into his back as he finally slid inside.
Mouth forming into an ‘o’ as he did. “Fuck,” he breathed.
It felt like he’d filled you the brim. Too much for you to take and not enough at the same time. Face screwing up as he threaded his biceps under your legs to spread you open wider.
“Fuck me,” you begged. “Fuck me. Fuck me. Fuck me. Fuck me.”
He put his forehead against yours as he thrusted into you. “Look at me,” another growl falling from his lips as you closed your eyes. That look was back. The lust. The need. “Knew you’d have good pussy. Pussy worth waiting for. Can’t believe you’d been wasting it on that asshole. Needed real men to handle you.”
“Yes,” you moaned. His lips going to your neck as you raked your nails up and down his back. The two of you breathing heavy as he rocked deeply inside of you. Legs wrapping around him. Lips going to his shoulder.
It all happened so fast when he rolled over to pull you on top. “Ride me, Baby,” he grabbed your hips so he could start rocking you on top of him. Throwing your head back as you got on your feet. Moving up and down.
“You’re too big!” You cried. Not like you hadn’t been expecting that it’s just shit this was a lot to handle.
“Oh come on. You can take it you’ve got it. You’ll make daddy proud. You know I don’t like quitters.”
You moaned at his words as he put his hands in your hair again. Making you bend towards him so he could kiss you again. Smacking your ass and then gripping it.
You looked between the two of you seeing you hadn’t even slid down all the way. Almost scared to make an attempt but the choice was made for you as he wrapped his arms around your hips to slam you down.
It felt like he’d split you in half at any minute. Couldn’t he see that he was breaking you. Though you were sure if you asked him, he’d say he didn’t care. And at this point you weren’t sure if you did either.
As your orgasm began to hit, thoughts had clearly left your brain. Putting your face into the crook of his neck. “You’re gonna make me cum again.” Practically weeping from the overstimulation.
This time as he changed positions, pushing you back on your back. Head laying at the foot bed. Needing to be the one in control. “Gonna let me fuck you whenever I want, huh?”
“Uh huh,” was the most you could muster.
“My little play thing?” He smirked, but faltered as he moaned out. “Feel so fucking- gonna make me cum too.”
“Uh huh!” You moaned again, eyebrows scrunching up.
“Gonna make me cum in you, Baby. Fuck. Want it so bad. Want daddy’s cum don’t you.”
If you were in your right mind you would have definitely been telling him to pull out, but you were much too overwhelmed. Unable to think as he fucked into you. So close to cumming on his dick. Wanted it more than anything. Wanted to-
“Ah!” You screamed, putting your face into his sweat covered neck as you came around him. Hips bucking wildly into him as the shocks ran through you.
“That’s it, Babygirl,” he hissed. “That’s fucking it. Cum for me.”
You put your hand to your mouth, silencing yourself. Chest racking with sobs. As badly as Steve wanted to reach up to rip it away he found himself too caught up in his pleasure.
A growl curdling in his throat to come out as a, “Fuck, Babygirl,” as he chased his own orgasm. Even catching himself off guard when he pulled out to rip you onto your back. Not giving you much time to register anything either as he pushed back into you from behind. “Fuck,” his eyes rolled to the back of his head as he gripped your hips.
“Daddy!” You finally let out a scream, unable to hold yourself up. Collapsing so your ass was still in the air with your back arched.
From this angle it just seemed that you somehow felt even better. The way you wrapped around him was making him dizzy. Found himself unable to stop from giving into his primal urges as he rutted his cock into you as few as he could go.
“C’mon, Babygirl,” he hissed. “Give me one more. You can do it for me. Do it for Daddy, Baby. You know what I fucking want.”
It was like he couldn’t control his mouth and you were fully under his spell. Drinking in his words. Letting them tingle in your ear until they added to the shockwaves shooting down to your core.
Especially as he laid down on top of you. Feeling so much bigger than usual even in stature. Wrapping his arm around your neck so he could pull you in. Having his ear to your lips, “Take it, Y/N. Take it,” he spoke like he was delirious, feel like he was getting even heavier with each movement until he could finally get his knot into you.
The invasiveness made you jump. Not able to go anywhere as he’d had you trapped under him. Letting out a deeper growl as he finally let go inside of you. Hips still moving as he gave you his seed. Knot ensuring that all of it would stay deep inside your pretty little cunt.
Even with the strange sensation, you relaxed into it as he slowed. Unable to fight him. Didn’t even want to. Felt like you couldn’t after the initial shock. Steve still staying on top of you as he finally came to a stop. Breathing heavy into the crook of your neck. Eyes getting heavy with each breath.
A part of you wondering what the hell just happened, but too fucked out to speak. Or form a real thought. Especially when he kept shifting his hips as he was still inside of you. Small whimpers escaped your throat from how sensitive you were.
“Steve,” you sniffled wishing the two of you were the other way. Feeling like you needed to hold onto him.
It was like he got the hint even if he didn’t bother to move. Still feeling him swollen inside of you, through slowly softening.
His arms wrapped around you tightly. Lips going to your cheek to place a kiss on it. “Shhh, Baby. It’s ok. I’m right here. Relax,” he said into your ear. “I’m not goin’ anywhere. You didn’t such a good job for me.”
As Steve whispered sweet nothings to you, Bucky stayed in the back of your mind. Can’t believe he was still out. Shit. What the hell were you supposed to do now.
Even then it wasn’t like you could focus on worrying. Steve finally making you drift off to sleep. Getting settled underneath him with no thoughts in your brain.
——————————————————
Can’t be too much of a party if one of you was asleep now could it. His jaw dropping at Steve as he smacked the man’s shoulder. “Could have at least waited!” He laughed. Not like he was one to talk.
After he finally pulled his knot from you, he was quick to get up. Making sure to tuck you in before getting up to clean up after himself. Not bothering to put any clothes on. As if Bucky hadn’t seen all of him by now.
Steve smirked, taking a sip of water. “You could have joined in at anytime.”
Bucky poured a second glass of whisky. Before handing it to his boyfriend who accepted. “Wanted to, but i had a lot of fun watching.” Before pressing a kiss to his lips. “Fuck. You even taste like her.” He hissed.
And it was true. He really could have, but every time he tried to move a muscle he find him glued to his spot. Watching you both through the crack in the door. Hand fisting his dick until he came against the wall that would definitely need cleaning. Then he kind of wanted to wait for you to do it. Your fault anyway.
Couldn’t bring himself to look away from the best porn he’d ever seen. Right in front of his face. All his fantasies coming true. The man of his dreams fucking the shit out of girl of his dreams what else could he ask for. And watching how well you took it even as you got overwhelmed, fuck why would he have ever looked away.
That’s why as he started to appreciate Steve’s super Solider stamina as he got hard in his mouth. He couldn’t get enough of the taste of your pussy on out. He could do with letting Steve feel like a cocky bastard with two cock hungry sluts begging for his dick tonight.
The problem is that you were right there, in the middle of their bed. Freshly fucked out after taking your first knot. While he would have liked to be the one to give that to you, he was also fine with Steve’s sloppy seconds.
Which is why he couldn’t help himself as he started kissing on your thighs. Salivating at the sight of his boyfriend’s cum only making your pretty little pussy look even prettier. Of course he had to taste you. Who better to clean you both up but him.
“Buck?” You asked in a tired voice, eyes blurring and then slowly adjusting. Fear shooting through your body, that only turned to confusion as he rubbed his thumb slowly over your tender clit.
“I hope and and Steve had fun together, Doll,” he said before licking your hole.
Because it was only just the beginning.
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alargehunkofdebris · 9 months
Text
the necessary anguish of the Good Omens 2 finale
Ah ok. So after 4 years of waiting post Season One and ten cumulative years of bookish fannery, I watched bonified New Content of Good Omens. And when those credits rolled, I sat there, not in my expected state of pleasant satisfaction, but in a state of abject shock.
I actually don’t know if I’ve ever had such a reaction to a show before. Or, rather, that I could still have such a reaction. I’m thirty, for goodness sakes – I was planning on being thrilled and charmed and entertained, not having my hands shake so much that it was hard to type a text. I wasn’t planning on losing an entire night of sleep because my heart wouldn’t stop pounding really hard, Neil. This was not expected. I had an estate sale to run the next day – by God, I needed that sleep.
 Anyway. These are my thoughts on the season, and on this upswell of mourning/unhappiness at such a gut-wrenching ending. As always, this are my dumb opinions and nothing more; take with a grain of salt, etc. 
I have seen a lot of suffering on Tumblr today. Everyone is in pain, and it makes sense. I, too, am in pain. But I might be in the minority, because I thanked God/Mr. Gaiman when things turned to pure pain in the end. Because narratively, despite the anguish we all feel, this is how it needs to be. And I was getting real worried there for a second.
When we have a mini-series (ie, a show with a set number of seasons) it can’t act the same as a series without a set end. We’ve got three potential seasons; therefore, they logically should behave like a three-act play, or the three acts in the standard Western movie/book plot. This middle season is the middle act, the second act. While it definitely doesn’t work exactly the same way, and needs its own story arc to work as a season, it is still functionally the middle part of one overarching plot.
And what usually happens near the end of the second act? All Is Lost, and the Dark Night of the Soul.
We NEED this to happen. This is what makes a plot delicious. If we’d had this perfect, lovely, romantic season where the stakes aren’t raised one bit and everything is fixed at the end, we would want for nothing and the gorgeous tension that keeps us waiting and watching would be lost. We wouldn’t feel that drive to create fanfics and fanart, we wouldn’t have the need to speculate or dream, because most of the tension was eased, and you just can’t have that if you want a highly anticipated third season. We’d have nothing huge and concrete to look forward to.
In fact, I was getting really worried once the Ineffable Bureaucracy started happening on screen, because I could see (I thought) past that bend in the road toward the end. I could see how this season might conclude, with big happy confessions of love and hugs and handholding (that’s all I expected, because I only expected the same chaste level of affection with both angelic/demonic couples) and then…then it’d all be over. What more could there be? I mean, there certainly could be more, but THIS is the main thing people waited for. The Happy Confession. The hug. The handholding. Whatever we got. And in my mind, having it now, at the end of season two, just wasn’t adding up – it did not fit. It couldn’t. No, we can’t have this now. It doesn’t work.
I get this peculiar thing that happens when things start getting too “everything is great!” in a story. I get the “someone needs to die” instinct. Instead of pure happiness that things are going great, there’s this feeling of intense discomfort, because I feel the weight of the shoe that’s failing to drop. I need it to drop, or else it throws off my entire standard-Western-narrative-trained brain’s balance. In the build up to The Scene, when things seem to be going swimmingly and heading directly towards the happiest and syrupiest of endings, I had to pause and pace my living room and roll around on the floor to alleviate the sheer build up of stress. Things can’t go this well. They can’t. There hasn’t been enough bad things, this is too sweet, too much. Can’t handle it. This can’t just be pure wish-fulfillment at this point; Good Omens shouldn’t work that way, it never has. We’d be happy in the moment, but then it’ll ultimately be a let down. No more danger. Nothing keeping them apart. No more tension, no more story. It was all too easy.
And then, finally, that shoe dropped. After a season of mainly getting along and being just thrilled with each other, they began to really argue. Things got horrific and serious, and I literally let out a breath of relief. I was able to watch without pausing every two minutes for a breather. Ok. Things weren’t over. This wasn’t the end. We had more to wait for.
And then it went on. The confession started, but in that gorgeously wrong way. And for the first time that season, I was actually feeling the stress of the story. Yes, there was danger throughout this season, but it was always layered with humour and wit. You didn’t get a demon scene without them doing something hilariously stupid. You didn’t get an angel scene without them being delightfully out-of-touch. The stakes were high, but they weren’t allowed to get EXTREMELY high. We never thought there was any question of them getting out of scrapes unscathed, because it was never all serious.
Never…until now. There was zero humour at this point. After 6 episodes of being pleasantly delighted, I was feeling the dread. However, I still thought I knew where it was going.  
See, I thought I had it figured out. If I had any extra money, I would have bet some of it. I knew that, whilst they’d likely have some kind of subtle confession of love and caring, and perhaps a touch – a hug, or a hand-hold (like Gabe and Beez) – I knew we couldn’t expect a kiss. This is a story thirty-three years in the making, and it’s always been in that grey area. They weren’t humans; they didn’t necessarily show affection that way. Besides that, we’ve had so many TV shows that get close, but rarely ones that go all the way to smoochville. OFMD was one of the very first, but it was new. It wasn’t an old, established story from the 90s like this is. It didn’t have decades-old fans waiting with bated breath for canon content. For Good Omens, we heard it time and time again in interviews; it’s a kind of love story. They had this kind of marriage. They cared for each other. They had a bromance. It’s close, but never quite there. So I thought I knew exactly how this would go, and would be thrilled with what we got. 
And then it absolutely didn’t go that way. It went exactly as far as so many hoped. And it went there like a knife to the gut.
And it was perfect.
Goddamn, what a season ending. Despite my lack of appetite and failure to sleep, I could not be happier with what Mr. Gaiman did. I am screaming crying throwing up and I’m thrilled about it.
The middle of a story is typically what drags; it never holds the highest stakes. Lord knows what we’re going to get in season three (knocking on wood), but I can only expect it to get bigger and heavier. And by God and/or Satan, am I prepared, in this deliciously painful purgatory, to wait and see.  
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kingofbodyrolls · 4 months
Text
Friendcation (m) | myg | winter special
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| s.masterlist | m.masterlist |
Summary: You’re in labor and live outside of the city, and it just happens to be Christmas time, there’s a lot of snow. Will you and Yoongi be able to make it to the hospital before your baby arrives?
OR– The one where Yoongi fucks you into labor and crashes the car 🙃 (It’s set about 1,5 years after friendcation ended) 🙂
it's obviously part of a series, but it can totally be read as a standalone oneshot (though there's some jokes you might not get, but that's all).
Pairing: Yoongi x reader (female)
Other characters: Jimin 😇 + the rest of the gang makes an appearance at the end too 💜
AUs: roadtrip!au, non idol!au, pregnancy!au, established relationship, married!au, mechanic!Yoongi, holiday!au.
Genres: slice of life, humor/crack, smut and fluff
Rating: mature/explicit/R18  (This is mature/explicit content, so minors, please do not interact.)
Disclaimer: I do not own BTS or know them personally and this work of fiction is purely fictional and for entertainment purposes only. The actions and personalities described in the story do not reflect those of BTS— it’s just fiction. Also, if you would kindly read the tags/warnings before reading, that would be lovely: and if you don’t like whatever is described in the tags, just hit return and find something else to read. Thank you 🌸
Word Count: 10.3K
Warnings (general) + triggers: sex while pregnant, minor car accident, a lot of crack and humor too, because otherwise it wouldn’t be friendcation. Slight angst. Possessive Yoongi. Jimin deserves a warning too 👀 (it’s always Jimin)! Giving birth in a car in a somewhat detailed description (without medical help). Breastfeeding a baby. A lot of kissing.
Warnings (explicit): smut in the form of unprotected sex, fingering, dirty talk, praise kink, breast play, nipple play (with a little bit of lactation), flashing/exposure of vagina and boobs, comfort sex (Yoongi making sure OC is comfortable the whole time 🥺), strong orgasms, blood (because of childbirth, but barely mentioned).
Author’s note: this couple just wouldn’t leave me alone 😂 So here we are, with a winter special. I really hope you like it. It was so fun to write, I just love their relationship and then also with their friends, especially Jimin 🤭 I might do more specials through time, I don’t know. Don’t know if people are interested (but I’d probably write it anyway, lol). Like, we still don’t know how Yoongi proposed, their wedding, their honeymoon 👀
This has different povs, mainly Yoongi's, then Jimin's and reader's (I hope it isn't too confusing).
Thank you so much – and thanks to all that likes, comments, reblogs, yeah, anything. Thank you from the bottom of my heart, it makes me so happy and a damn smiling fool 💜
Taglist: @idkjustlovingbts @constancelayon @wobblewobble822 @ktownshizzle @moonchild1 @ultimatefangirl0 @baechugff @jimintaemin @parapiop7 @fckkntired @iluvfndms @citypop-princess @tarahardcore @bergandysam @massivelyfullenthusiast @tatyhend @gimeow *strikethrough means tumblr isn’t letting me tag you :( **if you wish to be removed from the taglist, let me know 🌸
It’s been cross posted to AO3 if you prefer to read there.
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He is used to it.
But ever since you became pregnant, it’s been getting worse.
Your sleep moaning, that is.
And it’s always turning him on.
His frustration simmers beneath the surface, fueled by the magnetic allure you effortlessly wield. Yet, with a single glance from you, his resolve melts away like butter on a warm summer day. This magnetic power you wield over him isn't a recent revelation; it's been your enchanting spell, cast long before that memorable camping trip more than a year ago.
Memories surge like a tidal wave, setting his irises ablaze with vivid snapshots of you both, entwined amidst the intimate cocoon of his van, sheets tangled in the echoes of passion.
Countless adventures and camping escapades have unfolded since that fateful journey with your friends, yet it's the kaleidoscope of memories created with you that he holds as precious treasures, each moment a vibrant gem in the tapestry of your relationship.
At last, his gaze shifts towards you, and he beholds the tranquility that graces your sleeping form, nestled beside him. There you lie, on your back nonetheless, which really mustn't be nice considering your big belly.
You’re almost nine months pregnant and the baby can come any minute, he knows.
You’d been trying to conceive for some time, a delightful excuse to have sex all the damn time–although, truth be told, he never needed one.
He feels his dick strain against the confines of his boxers and he wonders  whether to rouse you from slumber, it's not merely the urgency of his arousal but the genuine concern for your well-being—your supine position hindering blood flow and oxygen to the precious life within your belly. 
Thus, with a tender touch, he delicately stirs you from your peaceful slumber.
Initially met with silence, your slumbering form stirs slightly, emitting a soft murmur of both moans and snores.
A soft chuckle escapes him as he observes your endearing response, yet undeterred, he persists in gently prodding you.
In a hushed and tender tone, he attempts to reach out to you with a gentle “Babe,” his voice a delicate whisper, carrying the weight of affection.
As your head gracefully pivots towards him, your eyes, like delicate butterflies, flutter open in response to the gentle call. A soft smile graces his lips, a silent serenade to the gradual awakening of your consciousness.
As consciousness fully embraces you, your eyes roam the dimly lit room before finding solace in his gaze.”Why did you wake me? It’s the middle of the night…” you inquire, the bedroom's shadows bearing witness to the query that hangs in the air.
With a gentle yawn, you pivot your body, settling into the comforting curve of your side. In the quiet accomplishment of this subtle shift, one of his cherished missions finds completion.
In a tender tone infused with love, he begins, “You were sleeping on your back. It’s not good for the baby,” his words a gentle caress carrying the weight of concern for the precious life cradled within your belly.
A warmth infuses your smile as you meet his gaze, a silent acknowledgment of gratitude for the depth of his concern and the wellspring of love that envelops you both.
And with a playful chuckle lacing his words, he adds, “And you were moaning too.” Your laughter joins his, and you both know what this means.
“You’re always horny, Yoon.” you tease, your hands exploring the contours of his body with purpose. Swiftly finding the elastic of his boxers, you trace the outline of his dick with a deliberate touch, a dance of desire that unfolds seamlessly between you.
Your hand glides sensually over him, a teasing caress through the fabric of his boxers, and a guttural groan of pleasure escapes his lips.
He seizes your hand, bringing a pause to the tantalizing dance between you. “Do you want to, babe?” he inquires, his gaze a reflection of both restraint and anticipation, hanging on the unspoken words between you.
A soft chuckle escapes your lips, your body and mind fully alive, the air already charged with the unmistakable electricity that Yoongi seems to effortlessly ignite within you. You’re already soaked in your panties, and with a whispered moan, you confess, “Yes, I need you Yoongi.”
Gently guiding your hand away from his cock, he inches closer, turning you to lay on your side facing away from him.
Swiftly seizing his pillow, he artfully tucks it beneath the gentle curve of your belly, sculpting a cocoon of support and comfort.
Nestling his head into the crook of your neck, he inhales deeply, savoring the heady and intoxicating essence that is uniquely yours. It's more than a fragrance; it's a potent elixir that courses through him, a sensory drug that elicits an involuntary response—a subtle, primal twitch in the fabric of boxers.
A low, guttural moan escapes his lips, intimately shared in the cocoon of your embrace, as he senses your shiver echo through his touch.His skilled hand embarks on a journey, tenderly caressing your breasts, lingering over the soft expanse of your tummy where the fluttering life within makes its presence known. As his exploration ventures lower, he cups your pussy outside your panties.
Your hips undulate into his dick, a rhythmic dance that draws an involuntary duet of pleasure-laden moans from both of you. His awareness sharpens, attuned to the undeniable evidence of your arousal. With a deliberate touch, he tugs your panties aside, revealing your drenched pussy.
Initiating a delicate exploration, he trails his fingertips along the contours of your folds, gathering the essence of your arousal before skillfully guiding a single digit into the velvety warmth of your desire.
With a rhythmic precision, he starts a sensual dance, his digit sliding in and out of your eager core. Each movement draws forth an increasing symphony of heavy pants, and he can already hear that you’re not gonna last long.
Adding another skilled finger, he intensifies the intimate pleasure, a seamless union of sensation as your bodies synchronize in a provocative dance. Your backside grinds into the rigid length of his desire, fueling his fervor to push the limits further. With an escalating pace, his fingers move within you, a crescendo of pleasure building with every adept stroke.
Breathless and on the precipice of ecstasy, you urgently plead, “I'm so close, Yoongi. Touch my clit instead,” your voice a desperate plea. He complies with a deft move, withdrawing his slickened fingers from the depths of your core to redirect their attention, skillfully navigating the peaks of your pussy with an intoxicating dance against your throbbing clit.
Yoongi has become attuned to the cadence of your breath, a masterful symphony that he has memorized like the back of his hand. In the harmonious rhythm, he discerns the telltale signs that you are on the precipice of ecstasy—so close that the intoxicating anticipation hangs in the air like an electric charge.
His fingers move in a tantalizing dance, tracing circles around your clit with an intimate familiarity. As he senses you teetering on the brink, your breaths hang heavy in the charged air, and the ethereal moans escape your lips like a whispered melody. In a bold move, he pinches your clit. Your body responds in an electric surge, tension radiating through every inch of your being, held in the exquisite grip of his deliberate touch.
Returning to the rhythmic circles on your clit, he guides you through the waves of your orgasm, a seismic tremor that reverberates through your being. Each stroke of his touch acts as a steady anchor, grounding you in the aftermath of what feels like an earth-shattering climax.
You gasp for air, your breaths coming in furious bursts, and in a voice drawn out with need, you moan his name—a melody of pleasure that lingers in the charged air between you.
“'Fuck!” escapes you in a guttural moan, your hands clenching into fists under the watchful gaze of his darkened, appreciative eyes. 
Withdrawing his hand from the depths of your core, he endeavors to temper the tempestuous movements coursing through you, a steadying touch anchoring your fervent reactions with a gentle grip on your hips. 
“'Damn. It's like the orgasm is lingering,” you confess in a strained voice, leaving Yoongi uncertain whether to interpret it as a blissful prolongation or a potential intensity that might overwhelm you. 
“What do you mean?” he inquires, his voice a warm breath against your neck.
“It's just... I can feel it all the way around my stomach,” you pant, the lingering sensations creating a unique symphony within you. “Ah, it's probably Braxton Hicks contractions, because of the orgasm,” you assert with a newfound certainty. In response, Yoongi hums in acknowledgment, his hand delicately finding its place on your belly, where he can feel the subtle tightness.
“Are you sure it’s just that?” he questions, his concern etched in the furrow of his brow. Yet, as your assurance unfolds, a palpable relaxation courses through the muscles of your belly. “Yeah, they're fading now,” you confirm.
“Yoongi, I need you inside me now,” you declare, your words a sultry plea as you sensually grind your ass into the rigid bulge within his boxers. 
With a sharp intake of breath, he hisses, seizing your hips in a possessive grip, molding you against the heat of his pelvis.
Effortlessly, he peels your panties down your thighs, and you willingly lift your legs to aid in their complete removal. As he holds the damp evidence of your arousal in his hand, a wicked glint in his eyes betrays the realization, damn they are soaked. Without a second thought, he discards them to the floor.
“'Is this position comfortable for you?” he tenderly inquires, a gentle concern threading through his words as he sheds his boxers. Adjusting his position, he moves slightly, aligning himself with the contours of your core from behind.
“Yeah, I’m good.”
Lying down and approaching from behind, the fit feels unusually snug. Yoongi, with deliberate intent, spreads your ass cheeks, his hand tracing a teasing path before he strokes his arousal, the anticipation building. As he aligns with the entrance to your core, a slow and deliberate entrance ensues, eliciting a moan from you.
An almost primal growl escapes your lips as he sinks in, each agonizingly slow inch a delicious torment. It's not just amazing; it's an exquisite tightness that makes you acutely aware of his presence, as if you can feel him reverberating through every fiber of your being, from the deepest reaches of your pussy to the intimate confines of your uterus.
Yoongi indulges in a series of deliberate thrusts, each movement a slow dance that unveils the exquisite tightness enveloping him. With each rhythmic advance into your core, he keenly senses the escalating tension in your body.
“Yoon,” you pant, the syllables a breathless plea that lingers in the charged air. Yoongi, attuned to your every reaction, halts his movements, his hand tenderly caressing your cheek. “I can feel you everywhere inside, fuck.”
“Is it good, or should we stop?” he asks, a genuine concern etched across his features. His desire is not just for pleasure but for your comfort and satisfaction.
“No, it's good for now, but I'll let you know if it gets too intense, okay? Maybe we can change positions then?” you inquire, your voice a sultry whisper that hangs in the air. As you sensually grind your ass down into his pelvis, fucking yourself on his cock, a soft moan leaves your lips.
Yoongi releases a low, guttural moan against the sensitive skin of your neck, his reverberating pleasure mingling with lust between you. His hand journeys down the curve of your hips, gripping them with a possessive urgency. In this tactile exchange, he finds stability, a grounding force that allows him to drive into you once more, each thrust a testament to the fervor building between you.
As you surrender completely against him, a harmonious synchrony of pleasure unfolds. Sensing the shift, he accelerates his thrusts, a rhythmic dance that quickens the desire between you. 
Yoongi inhales deeply against the canvas of your neck, and in a sudden, electrifying twist, you feel the graze of his teeth. Your body shivers with anticipation, and then he descends, sinking his teeth into your neck. Not too forcefully, but with a compelling intensity that sends a jolt of electricity down your spine. Your body responds in kind, grinding against his, and a sinful moan escapes you.
Then, with a sensual grace, he traces the path where his teeth had left their mark, his tongue delicately caressing your neck before placing soft, lingering kisses. Your response is a sultry mewl, the audible manifestation of pleasure, and in the electric aftermath, you feel a surge of arousal saturate his dick.
Breathless and on the precipice of ecstasy, you gasp, “Yoongi, I'm—,” the words trailing off into a passionate pant as he skillfully drives into you, each thrust an artful symphony of pleasure that transcends language, leaving you teetering on the edge of bliss.
“Hmm?”
His grip on your hips tightens, and with each deeper thrust, the world around you seems to blur as you swear that, despite the physical limitations of the position, you can feel him everywhere. It's an overwhelming sensation, almost too much.
“I want to change positions,” you pant, and in an instant, Yoongi withdraws, his response swift and attentive. With a purposeful motion, he turns you around, orchestrating a seamless transition that repositions you to face him once again.
“What do you want to do?” he smiles, his gaze tender as he caresses your cheek with the gentle strokes of his long, slender fingers. In the delicate dance of his touch, you feel an overwhelming sense of love and appreciation.
“I want to ride you,” you confess, leaning in to capture his lips in a soft kiss. As you pull away, a playful smile dances across your face, your eyes reflecting a potent mix of love and lust.
“Fuck, yeah, babe,” he breathes in eager agreement, turning to lie on his back. As you discard the pillow he thoughtfully fetched for you, you proceed to shed your nightgown, leaving both of you completely bare.
With a graceful motion, you hike one leg over his body, settling into a commanding straddle. Your hand confidently takes hold of his dick, aligning it with the eager warmth of your pussy again. A smile plays on your lips as you gaze down at him, relishing the empowering intimacy of having him beneath you in this moment.
His smile mirrors the adoration and appreciation he feels as he takes in every incredible feature of yours. As you descend slowly onto his cock, your face flushes a subtle shade of red, your quivering lips betraying the intensity of your desire. Your nipples stand proudly, and your gracefully rounded belly hangs low, a testament to the life you’ve both created and soon to welcome into the world.
God he loves you. So fucking much. In his eyes, you’re a goddess.
As you lower yourself onto his dick, a duet of moans escapes both of you, the soft stretch heightening the sensory experience. The angle of this position enhances the feeling, and in the synchronized exchange of pleasure, you both revel in the palpable sensation that binds you together.
“Fuck, Yoon!” you pant, the breathless exclamation escaping your lips as you reach the apex of his pelvis, his cock filling you up completely. 
“'Ah! It's so much better like this,” you moan, the words dripping with satisfaction and pleasure as you take control, beginning to ride him with a rhythmic motion. 
Yoongi's hands find purchase on your hips, their firm grasp not only steadying you but becoming an integral part of the rhythmic dance as you bounce on his dick. 
It's undeniably exquisite, the sensation heightened by the captivating sight of you taking control, sending Yoongi into a feral state of desire. The raw power of your dominance, setting the pace and depth, fuels an irresistible fire within him. Your expressions—those eyes closing in lust, the whimpering pleas—seemingly unravel his restraint, threatening to push him over the edge. 
“You look so good, bouncing on my dick. Such a good girl,” he pants, the words imbued with a husky appreciation. His hands, slightly squeezing your hips, become a tactile affirmation, letting you know that every movement is not just good but exceptionally arousing. 
You keen in response to his praise, a melodious symphony of pleasure that resonates in the air. Empowered by the encouragement, you guide yourself down deeper, every movement an exquisite dance that intensifies the feeling of being incredibly full.
“Yoongi, I don't think I'm gonna last long,” you pant, the admission hanging in the air like an electrifying confession. Sensing the imminent climax, you slow your movements, the deliberate deceleration amplifying the anticipation.
“It’s fine,” he reassures you, “I’m not going to either.”
You chuckle at him, the sound a melodic blend of pleasure and fatigue as you continue to bounce on his arousal. “I'm also so damn tired. This is challenging with my belly being this big,”
“I can take over if you want—or we can try another position?” His offer is laced with genuine concern, a desire to ensure you don't strain or tire yourself unnecessarily. 
“No! I love this. I want to ride you,” you moan, the words a passionate declaration as you sink down on him once more. The anticipation of your impending orgasm begins to unfurl in the depths of your stomach.
“Yoongi—, I'm close,” you pant, the admission a breathless revelation as you continue to move at a languid pace, the enticing rhythm showcasing the delightful bounce of your tits with each motion.
He has always been captivated by the allure of your tits—a mesmerizing aspect of your physicality that leaves him in awe. A part of him remains undecided, caught in the delightful dilemma of whether he prefers your tits or your ass, a choice he'd willingly forego, harboring a fervent desire for both.
Your hands find purchase on his sculpted pectorals, seeking support as exhaustion sets in, causing your movements to slow, each languid motion bringing you closer to climax. His gaze lingers on your face, a canvas painted with the intensity of the moment—sweat glistening, mouth slightly agape, and eyebrows creased in ecstasy as you fervently ride him, lost in the rhythmic dance of pleasure.
He senses a primal twitch within as he stays deep within you, and his gaze traces a path down your neck where the evidence of his love bite remains visible. Continuing his journey, his eyes appreciate the sight of your wonderful, bouncy tits.
Withdrawing both of his hands from your hips, they now tenderly grasp both of your tits. “These are so wonderful, as is every part of you,” he murmurs in a voice laced with appreciation.
You feel the walls of your pussy contract in response to his words of praise, a cascading sensation that culminates in a soft moan, his name escaping your lips like a whispered melody. 
He caresses your tits, their softness, fullness, and weight filling his palms with a tangible desire. As his hands explore, he discovers your perked nipples, rolling them between his fingers in a delicate dance of pleasure.
“Yoongi!” A high-pitched moan escapes your lips, the fervent cry echoing in the charged atmosphere as you throw your head back, surrendering to the pleasure of sinking down on him once more. 
He luxuriates in the splendor of your beauty, every facet of your amazing body a source of enchantment. Everything about you accelerates the rhythm of his heart, the butterflies in his stomach multiplying with each passing moment. 
He gives a gentle tug on your nipple, sending a surge of sensations through your body like an electric current, a simultaneous feeling of warmth and chill enveloping you in a paradoxical embrace.
You sense a delightful tingling sensation rippling across your entire body, a prelude to an impending climax that hovers tantalizingly on the edge.
“Shit, Yoongi, I think I'm gonna come,” you moan, the admission carrying the weight of impending ecstasy.
He grunts in response, the primal sound echoing the urgency of his own impending release. “I'm close too.”
You start to sense a delightful tightness in your breasts, with Yoongi skillfully alternating between rolling your nipples, tugging, and pinching them. The exquisite play on your sensitive peaks sends shivers down your spine. Simultaneously, you become acutely aware of the wetness between your thighs, a slippery testament to the overwhelming arousal that courses through your body.
The sound of skin on skin slapping resonates through the air, a visceral percussion that punctuates the charged atmosphere. The noise sends a jolt through your body, causing your muscles to tense in response.
The tingling and prickling sensation in your breasts intensifies, creating a crescendo of arousal that surges through your body. Then, in a sudden release, you feel the pressure in them subside, a wave of pleasure ebbing away like a tide.
Yoongi watches in awe as a gush of milk shoots out of your tits, creating a mesmerizing display that soon turns into a sensuous drip. His finger skillfully rolls your nipples, the fluid covering them and your tits in a glistening sheen of your breastmilk. Fuck it’s hot. He feels his dick twitch again, as he keeps looking at your tits.
You sense a wetness on your breasts and instinctively glance down, only to be met with a wave of horror as you realize you've begun lactating. In an instant, you cover your bobs, a mix of shock and embarrassment washing over you. The sudden shift in your body leaves you feeling vulnerable and a bit grossed out.
“I'm so sorry,” you begin, breathless words escaping your lips as you continue to fuck yourself on his dick. 
“You don't have to be sorry, babe. It's natural and sexy,” he reassures you with a loving smile, a genuine attempt to dispel any insecurity. His eyes, filled with both warmth and desire, convey a message beyond words—that he not only doesn't mind but finds the situation undeniably hot. 
“Please let me touch them,” he pleads with a rare vulnerability in his usually composed demeanor. 
You take a moment to contemplate, acknowledging that while you might not find it as inherently sexy as he does, the arousal sparked by his desire for you is undeniably enticing. Embracing the vulnerability, you lean in and press your tits closer to his face, your tummy meeting his, as you concede with a whispered “okay.” 
You release your breasts from your grasp, and like a magnet seeking its counterpart, his hands find them once more. With deliberate tenderness, he begins to massage your tts, each slow and deliberate stroke creating ripples of pleasure that resonate through your body. 
As you move up and down on his length, the kaleidoscope of emotions—love, lust, and adoration—mirrored in Yoongi's eyes sends a shiver down your spine. In that charged moment, overwhelmed by the intensity of his gaze, you feel like you could die a happy woman. 
His fingers resume their dance, skillfully rolling your nipples and coating them with the warm fluid of your breast milk.
With a newfound determination, you pick up the pace, fervently chasing the brink of your orgasm. Yoongi, fully immersed in the moment, continues to fondle your tits with an affectionate touch.
“Ah! Yoongi, it's so good!” you moan with a symphony of pleasure as you lower yourself onto him, and in response, he tugs a little harder on your nipples.
“Fuck,” you pant, breathless, the sensation of being so thoroughly filled with desire and pleasure overwhelming your senses.
As your stomach tightens, the internal coil finally springs free, and you unleash your slick juices on his dick. A surge of ecstasy washes over you, rendering your vision blurry, a temporary blindness overcome by the intensity of pleasure. A strange ringing noise fills your ears, and your body collapses against Yoongi's in a state of blissful surrender.
With remarkable speed, he intercepts your naked form before it collides with him, his strong and firm hands seizing your hips to anchor you on top of him. 
You man fervently, the echoes of your climax still reverberating through your body. In the throes of your descent from ecstasy, a desperate plea escapes your lips, “Yoongi, please fcuk me.”
With a firm grip on your hips, he squeezes them again, initiating a rapid and relentless pace of thrusting into you. The urgency in his movements mirrors the crescendo of desire building within him as he fervently chases his own impending orgasm. 
Fuck, it was hot to witness you unravel in such ecstasy. The lingering sensation of your walls pulsating around his dick lingers, as if you're tightly embracing him, and he revels in it. Being inside you, outside you, every facet of connection with you fuels a deep and insatiable love within him. 
“Fuck, babe – you’re so tight!” he moans in pure delight. As you sit up, a newfound intensity in your movements, your hands find your tits, skillfully rolling your nipples, and a rivulet of breast milk drips out. Fuck. That will be his undoing.
“Ah, babe—,” he moans your name with a drawn-out, languid tone, his eyes unable to tear away from the sinful allure of your face and the captivating sight of your incredible tits. 
Inexplicably, your walls continue to throb around him, coaxing an unbridled release from him. A guttural moan of your name escapes his lips, a primal declaration of the intensity of the moment, synchronized with the eruption of his warm seed, cascading into the depths of your pulsating pussy. 
“Fuck!” he pants, his thrusts persisting a few times before he deftly lifts you, positioning you higher on his stomach. In the aftermath of shared ecstasy, both of you lost in the haze of pleasure, the residue of your combined orgasms coats and binds you together, a slick and intimate testament to the intensity of lust.
“Ah…” you moan, a sultry melody escaping your lips as you descend into Yoongi's embrace. Despite the undertones of desire that lace your voice, he can't help but wonder what might be amiss as he sees pain etched in your face.
“What’s wrong, babe?” he inquires, his gaze locking onto your lustful eyes as he seeks to unravel the secrets veiled behind their desire-laden depths.
“I think I’m still orgasming,” you pant, rising once more, “it’s like my body won’t stop.” A shared gaze lingers between you, uncertainty flickering in both your eyes as the lingering waves of pleasure blur the lines between ecstasy and the unknown.
“Is it good or bad though?” he probes, a furrow forming on his brow as he attempts to unravel the mystery. “It’s not bad, but my tummy feels so tight,” your hand guides his to the firmness, and indeed, it does feel tight.
“Hmmm…” he contemplates the peculiar situation, his curiosity piqued but not overly concerned. “I’ll grab some towels and clean us up. Let’s wait a moment to see if it subsides, alright?”
You nod at him, then gracefully ease down from his lap, sprawling on your side, the remnants of passion and desire lingering in the air as you continue to pant for the sweet breath of satisfaction.
Yoongi gracefully rises from the bed, navigating the darkness of the night with an innate sense of purpose. He effortlessly locates your bathroom, skillfully secures a handful of towels, and returns to your bedroom with a quiet assurance, the dim shadows highlighting his silhouette as he prepares to tend to your shared aftermath.
“Here—, I–” With a sudden urgency, he tosses the towels aside as his eyes widen at the sight of you. Your figure is curled in on itself, hands instinctively cradling your stomach, every muscle in your body taut and tense.
“Yoongi, I think I’m in labor,” you declare, the gravity of the moment reflected not just in your words but also in the silent agony etched across your face, a shared understanding mirrored in the intensity of his gaze.
And then it hits him like a tidal wave; the tightness in your tummy was contractions. A surge of realization floods over him—shit, it’s happening. You're having your baby. In the whirlwind of emotions, he battles to remain calm, to steady himself for the pivotal moments ahead.
“Okay. Let's time the contractions and then call the hospital, okay?” he says, a sense of urgency in his voice, frantically searching for his phone on the nightstand.
“Let me know the moment you sense the beginning of a contraction,” he instructs, poised to start the timer.
“Right now,” you gasp, clutching your stomach tightly. The sensation grips you, an intense pressure, especially at the apex, and then, moments later, it releases. “It’s gone now.”
“Almost a minute,” he observes, his tone laden with the realization that you're edging closer to the throes of labor.
“Describe them to me. Are they intense? The pain worries me, seeing you in discomfort tears me apart,” he inquires, genuine concern etched across his face as he tries to understand what you're going through.
“Just a hint of pain, nothing unbearable. I can handle it,” you reassure with a soft chuckle, a resilient spirit shining through despite the discomfort, and he finds solace in your strength.
“Let's keep an eye on the contractions for about an hour, and then we'll give the hospital a call,” he suggests, retrieving the towels scattered on the floor earlier with a sense of urgency.
“While we wait, let me take care of you,” he proposes, coming closer with a towel. Gently lifting one of your legs, he begins to clean you, erasing the traces of our orgasms.
Your body quivers in response to his tender touch, eliciting delicate moans that dance in the air.
“Fuck. I don’t know why, but it’s turning me on, Yoon.” You moan softly, unable to explain the unexpected arousal, but your body instinctively grinds against the towel, turning a simple act into a sensual dance of lust.
A playful chuckle escapes him as he tends to your aftermath, skillfully cleaning you up. Satisfied with the tender care he has given you, he proceeds to clean himself up. Together, you reclaim your clothing, sitting down in your bed anxiously waiting for your contractions to pick up. 
As the cadence of contractions quickens, Yoongi takes decisive action, reaching out to the hospital to announce the fact that you’re in labor. With a voice poised between urgency and excitement, he navigates the conversation, detailing the progression of your contractions over the past hour. He wants to know how you should proceed.
As anticipation swirls in the air like a palpable force, Yoongi's voice resonates with a newfound sense of joy. “They've given us the green light to drive to the hospital,” he announces, his eyes reflecting the shared excitement. As you both perch on the edge of the bed, he turns to you with a practical inquiry, “Where did you stash your hospital bag?”
Your gesture guides him to the dresser, and with a graceful sweep, Yoongi retrieves your carefully prepared hospital bag. His voice, a comforting melody, invites you to join him, “Come, we can go now.”
Guiding you with a gentle hand, Yoongi accompanies you to the entryway of your home, a silent pact of shared determination. The darkness outside, coupled with the December chill, calls for the practicality of boots and a warm coat.
Assertively reaching for Yoongi's car keys, you declare, “I can drive.” The shift in Yoongi's expression is so abrupt, it's as if you've caught a fleeting glimpse of a storm cloud on a clear day, the sour twist on his face a testament to the unexpectedness of your statement.
His voice takes on a stern edge, swiftly denying your attempt to take the wheel. Yoongi snatches the keys from your grasp, his firm tone leaving no room for negotiation. “It’s not safe for you to drive in the midst of contractions,” he insists, a protective glint in his eyes amplifying the weight of his concern.
“But it’s not that bad,” you argue, why, you don’t really know.
“Look, babe. I know you can do everything by yourself, you’re strong, and I love you for it. But you’re not driving the car,” he says with a tone that brooks no argument, a gentle firmness underlining his love and concern for your well-being.
As you both prepare and the keys find their place in Yoongi's firm grip, you swing the door wide open, only to be greeted by a blanket of white—the snow-draped landscape stretching across the grass, road, and your car. To top it off, gentle snowflakes dance down from the heavens. Fuck.
“Ugh, it’s going to take forever driving into the city in this weather,” you grumble, trudging your way towards the car through the dense, snow-laden path. The flakes fall thick and heavy, making it difficult to see ahead.
Yoongi grumbles under his breath, popping the trunk to stow away your bag. With meticulous care, he ensures you've got everything essential for the journey. Satisfied, you both slide into the car, ready to face the challenges the snowy night has in store.
“It's going to be alright, babe,” he reassures you, his hand gently covering yours before tenderly moving to your belly. “Can't wait to finally meet you.” 
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Yoongi is accustomed to navigating challenging weather conditions on the road, his driving skills unaffected by the snow. However, the incompetence of other drivers in snowy conditions infuriates him. Inside the cocoon of your car, he vents his frustration, unleashing a symphony of curses directed at everyone causing chaos on the wintry roads.
“Ease up on the road rage, Yoongi. I don't want our little one picking up a vocabulary lesson in expletives before they even arrive,” you chime in, settling deeper into the seat, your concern for the baby evident in your voice.
“Babe, seriously, who ventures out on the road without a clue about driving in the snow? And it's the crack of dawn—why is everyone suddenly on a snow-day adventure?” Yoongi grumbles in exasperation, his frustration bringing a smile to your face despite the situation.
“Have you forgotten it’s Christmas time?” you quip, chuckling as he gapes at you, realization dawning on him. Damn, he had indeed forgotten.
“We haven’t even reached the city yet and there’s already so many cars,” he complains some more, and you let him. His voice, a melody that always soothes, even in the midst of chaotic Christmas traffic.
“They’re going home to their families—, watch out!” you point at the car in front of you, its headlights blazing like a comet in the snowy morning, almost blinding in their intensity.
Yoongi's keen eyes caught sight of the car in the opposite lane, and it became painfully evident that the driver couldn't navigate the snowy roads to save their life. Inexplicably, this inept driver seemed to believe they owned the road, arrogantly straddling both lanes. Distinguishing one lane from another was challenging in the snowy chaos, but it wasn't rocket science either.
Yoongi skillfully swerves the car to the side, narrowly avoiding a collision with the vehicle in front. The abrupt move sends a rumble through the car as it navigates the bumpy terrain, plowing through a massive mound of snow hastily shoved to the side.
The car grinds to a halt, Yoongi unleashing a string of colorful curses directed at the absent driver. Now, you find yourselves stranded in the unforgiving grip of the snow.
His concerned gaze shifts to you, seeking reassurance. “Are you okay, babe?” he asks, and although you appear unharmed, your response carries the weight of the unexpected. “Yeah, I'm okay. Just a bit shaken.”
As he hums a soothing melody, his attempts to reassure you echo in the confined space, yet beneath the surface, he senses the gradual erosion of his own calm demeanor.
“That fucking jerk,” his frustration intensifies as he hisses about the reckless driver, but you, amidst the escalating contractions, offer soothing reassurance, masking the growing urgency within the car.
“I'll assess the damage outside, okay?” he proposes, seeking your consent. You nod, delving into your bag for a snack, a sudden wave of hunger overtaking you amid the unfolding situation.
Yoongi steps out into the freezing cold, the car's engine humming in the background. He surveys the vehicle, searching for any visible damage, but to his relief, nothing appears broken or in need of immediate repair.
The towering mound of snow engulfs the car, rendering the hood invisible. Yoongi, realizing the severity of the situation, understands that extricating the vehicle from this icy trap is no easy feat. The sheer depth of the snow suggests a challenging predicament, one that requires assistance. Knowing you're in no condition to lend a hand, he contemplates the help he'll need to navigate the car out of this wintry predicament.
He reenters the car, discovering you engrossed in a candy bar, and a hearty chuckle escapes his lips.
Between bites, you inquire, “I was hungry. How's the car?”
“It's stuck pretty bad in the snow pile. Can't get it out myself,” he begins, but you interrupt with a smile, “I can help you with that.”
“Have you forgotten that you're in labor?” he laughs, his voice raspy from the cold outside. “And you're not going out to shovel snow. We don't even have shovels,” he adds, sharing a hearty laugh with you.
“I thought you had all kinds of things in the car,” you chuckle, finishing your candy bar with a mischievous glint in your eyes.
“Yeah, but not shovels,” his laughter resonates in the car, a contagious sound that brings a smile to your face.
“What are we gonna do then, just wait?” you inquire, a hint of worry coloring your voice as the realization dawns that you might not make it to the hospital in time.
“I’ll call Jimin and ask him to come help,” he declares, urgency in his tone as he swiftly pulls out his phone, dialing Jimin’s number with determination.
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Even in the early morning hush, Jimin's phone vibrates, and he glances at the caller ID to find Yoongi's name flashing. It's an unusual call at this hour, sparking an immediate concern that propels him to answer without hesitation.
“Hey, Yoongi hyung, something wrong?” His voice, tinged with worry and genuine concern, breaks the silence of the room as he answers the call. He rises from the bed, instantly alert to the unusual urgency in Yoongi's early morning summons. 
“We had a car accident,” Yoongi's words hang heavy in the air, shattering the tranquility of the room. Jimin's reaction is immediate, a storm of worry and disbelief brewing within him. He erupts from the bed, shouting into the phone, “What??” The sheer concern in his voice mirrors the gravity of the situation.
Yoongi's reassurance echoes through the phone, a soothing balm to his frayed nerves. “It's minor, relax,” he utters, and the calmness in his voice acts as a lifeline, pulling him back from the edge of panic.
“A guy forced us off the road, and we ended up plowing into a massive snowbank. Now, the damn car's wedged in tight,” Yoongi recounts, frustration coloring his words. Jimin, attentive, absorbs the details. “Think you can come lend a hand? Bring some shovels. I'll shoot you our coordinates,” Yoongi requests, the urgency evident in his tone.
Jimin readily agrees to help, his concern palpable through the phone. However, he can't shake the worry as he inquires, “Are you guys okay? And ___? How's the baby?”
“Yeah, we're all fine,” Yoongi reassures, his voice a bit raspy. Jimin strains to catch some muffled sounds on the other end, unable to discern the details.
He glances at the dropped location on his phone, “I can be there in about 30 minutes,” he assures Yoongi, swiftly rising from his bed to grab some warm clothes.
“Thank you, Jimin.”
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As the promised 30 minutes Jimin assured you passed an hour ago, he couldn't help but wonder if you were growing impatient with the prolonged wait.
Jimin spots your car on the roadside, its hazard lights casting an eerie glow, and he expertly maneuvers his own vehicle to a stop right behind yours.
He steps out, ready to retrieve tools from the trunk, but his attention is abruptly stolen by piercing screams emanating from your car. His muscles tense, and without a second thought, he dashes towards the source of the cries.
Why are you screaming? What's going on, and why are the windows so foggy?
With an overpowering urgency, he wrenches open the left door to the backseats, sending it flinging wide, the metallic screech echoing the urgency pulsing through his veins.
He hadn't anticipated the shocking scene that unfolded before him; there you were, legs pressed against the headrest on both the front and back seats, completely exposed from the waist down. He can clearly see your vagina. Fuck, your vagina is big—wait, something is coming out of it!
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Yoongi catches Jimin unabashedly staring at your vagina, prompting an eye roll from him. What's with Jimin? Having already witnessed your tits and now your vagina, it annoys Yoongi to no end. He's possessive; the idea of others seeing you in such a vulnerable state doesn't sit well with him. Sharing is not his forte.
He hisses sharply, capturing Jimin's attention, all while the symphony of your agonized screams continues to pierce the air.
“Stop looking at her vagina, man! You’ve seen enough of her, Jimin,” Yoongi snaps, frustration dripping from his words as your writhing form remains nestled against his supporting frame.
Jimin's eyes widen in disbelief, his mouth agape at the unexpected scene. He quickly redirects his gaze to Yoongi, his expression a mix of shock and apology as he stammers, “I—I didn't mean to, Yoongi, I'm so sorry!”
You clutch your thighs tightly, a guttural scream escaping your lips as the contraction envelops you. Once it recedes, you direct an exasperated shout at Jimin, “Close the damn door! You’re letting all the cold air in.”
Jimin snaps out of his daze, berating himself for standing there like a fool. Swiftly, he slips into the driver's seat, positioning himself to face the backseats with a determined look on his face.
“How long has she been in labor?” Jimin queries Yoongi, who glances up from your panting form for a moment before responding, “A few hours, actually.”
“You could have mentioned that when you called!” Jimin hisses in frustration. Not that the information would have made a big difference, given that the snow was the primary cause of his tardiness.
“But that’s a long time. I can see the head coming out,” he informs, prompting both you and Yoongi to exchange amused eye rolls.
“Yeah, she's crowning,” Yoongi adds with a soft stroke to your cheeks, his touch a comforting anchor as you brace yourself for another contraction.
“What can I do to help? I don't think we can get the car ready in time to make it to the hospital,” Jimin inquires, his gaze shifting between you and Yoongi with a mix of concern and determination.
“I already realized I’m having this baby in the backseat of a fucking car. Serves me right — getting fucked in a car, giving birth in a car. I’ve come full circle!” you laugh hysterically between contractions, the situation not lost on you. Jimin shifts uncomfortably in the driver's seat, but Yoongi remains a steady rock, his presence grounding you amidst the chaos.
As Yoongi directs his attention to Jimin, he suggests, “Maybe you could call the hospital and check if they can send an ambulance our way, just in case. I haven't had a moment to make that call yet.” His fingers trace soothing circles on your thighs, a stark contrast to the urgency of your sudden need to push.
Jimin's face reflects genuine concern as he admits he's never witnessed someone in labor before, only having gleaned insights from movies. However, a memory surfaces—advice from Seokjin after his girlfriend gave birth. “You can try changing positions, something where gravity can aid the baby's descent,” he shares, a eureka moment breaking through the tension.
Following Jimin's suggestion, you and Yoongi exchange a glance filled with gratitude and amazement. Acting on the advice, you shift positions, moving to sit over the seats with your upper body draped across them, your face turned towards the back. The atmosphere is tense, yet the three of you share a determined resolve in the face of the unexpected delivery.
With Yoongi's steady support, you manage to assume a half-standing, half-seated position, your body poised for the imminent arrival of your baby. Meanwhile, the car fills with the sound of Jimin's urgent voice as he communicates with the hospital over the phone.
“They are sending an ambulance now,” he informs.
Gratitude colors Yoongi's urgent request, a plea wrapped in the intensity of the moment. “Thank you, Jimin. Could you come back here and lend a hand?” he implores, a mix of worry and determination in his voice, as you cling to the rhythm of your breaths, navigating the storm of contractions.
He teases with a nonchalant shrug, “I thought you didn't want me looking.” Yet, it's clear he's here to assist you; after all, you're his ride or die, and in this crucial moment, his quip holds a trace of underlying devotion and readiness to stand by your side.
In a playful retort, he asserts, “Bold of you to assume I wanted you to look at her vagina again. There are other ways to assist, you know. I'll keep vagina watch—she's my wife,” emphasizing the relationship he shares with you, as Jimin exits the car to join you in the backseat.
Your tired yet grateful gaze meets Jimin's as you acknowledge, “You were right, Jimin. This position is a game-changer. The pressure has eased up a bit.” Despite the sweat-soaked exhaustion etched on your face, a soft smile conveys your appreciation.
For a second, Jimin doesn’t know what to do – can he touch you? Where? How can he help?
“Fuck it hurts!” Agony courses through you, each breath a struggle as you arch your back, a desperate attempt to wrestle against the relentless ache.
As the waves of pain intensify, he instinctively rests his hand on the small of your back, gently tracing soothing circles. To his relief, he witnesses the tension in your body slowly surrender to the rhythmic comfort of his touch.
Summoning all his composure, Yoongi bravely steals a glance downward, discovering a tuft of hair signaling the imminent arrival. Damn. He knows he must remain composed, steady—for you.
“How did you go into labor anyway? How did the water break, was it like in the movies?” Jimin launches into a barrage of questions, his curiosity pouring out like an unbridled stream. You shoot a glare his way, practically hurling invisible daggers in his direction at the audacity of his inquiries.
His hands continue their soothing circles on your lower back as he asks, “What?” Yoongi resurfaces, his expression a blank canvas.
And suddenly, realization flashes across Jimin's face. “You totally fucked! And then she went into labor!” he exclaims, a mix of shock and amusement in his voice.
You hiss in pain, your fingers clenching the seat with a vice-like grip, the intensity of the moment etched in the white-knuckle grasp of your hands.
Both your expressions affirm Jimin's earlier assumption, a silent confirmation that lingers in the charged air of the confined space.
“Shit, I can’t do this,” you gasp, exhaustion etched across your face, your body seemingly on the brink of surrender.
“You're almost there, babe. It's safe to keep pushing,” Yoongi reassures you with a tender kiss on your cheek, but you push him away, a fiery glare in your gaze.
“This is all your fault. You and your damn big dick!” you scream at him, and he understands, recognizing it as your pain talking and not the real you. Jimin chuckles from beside you, and you turn to give him a death glare, saying, “Don’t act so innocent, Mr. ‘I think Yoongi likes you.’”
“But I was right. And now you're about to have his baby. It's going to be okay,” Jimin reassures you, his hand gently rubbing your back.
“Just relax,” Jimin adds.
“Easy for you to say; a baby isn't shooting out of your body,” you huff, the intensity of your anger subsiding.
“I know it hurts, babe. But focus on your breathing, and when you're ready, push with all you've got,” Yoongi encourages, leaning in to kiss you on the lips.
The kiss sends electric shivers down your spine, and strangely, it acts as a calming balm, making the pain feel somewhat more bearable.
When he pulls away, he notices the lingering frown on your face, and a sense of curiosity washes over him. “It was nice, Yoongi. I think it helps alleviate the pain,” you admit, your voice a mixture of exhaustion and appreciation.
“Kiss me again,” you pant, your desperation echoing in the quiet space of the car. Yoongi obliges, capturing your lips with a hunger that elicits a moan from deep within you. In that stolen moment, the world fades away, forgotten in the intoxicating blend of passion and the rhythmic circles Jimin traces on your back.
“Don’t mind me. But I think the baby is coming, I can see more of its head just from here,” he informs, his eyes wide with a mix of awe and amusement. Yoongi's gaze follows Jimin's, confirming the imminent arrival. 
He positions his hands underneath your core, preparing to catch your baby as soon as it emerges. Yet, your screams of pain prompt a plea, “Please distract me with kisses,” you cry out, your hands clenching around the seats in a desperate search for relief. 
Yoongi glances up at you, your pain evident, and the desperate desire for relief palpable in your eyes. However, he's torn between wanting to provide comfort and being there to catch and deliver your baby. A moment of realization dawns upon him – he can't be in two places at once, something Jimin seems to realize too.
Yoongi gazes at Jimin, a silent plea for guidance evident in his eyes, but Jimin, with a mischievous grin, utters, “You've got two choices, hyung – catch the baby or let me kiss your wife. What's it gonna be?”
Yoongi gapes at him, astounded by the audacity Jimin displays in even suggesting such a choice. He's acutely aware of his own possessiveness, and Jimin knows how much he fucking wants to deliver his own child. He’s caught between a rock and a hard place.
With a sense of urgency, you turn your head and implore, “Do something! I don't care who kisses me, just someone, please!” Your plea echoes with a mixture of sternness and desperation, the pain coursing through your entire body amplifying the need for any distraction.
Yoongi moves with unwavering determination, ascending once more. “Fine. Deliver the baby. You're going to be the godfather anyway,” he grumbles to Jimin, reaching your head and pressing his lips plush against yours. Instantly, you relax, a moan escaping in the midst of the chaos.
“I am?” Jimin questions, uncertainty lacing his voice. Yet, he positions his hands beneath your vagina, mirroring Yoongi's earlier gesture.
You eagerly press your lips to Yoongi's, seeking out his tongue in a passionate exchange, panting and moaning in response to the surge of arousal coursing through you. Amid the heated kiss, you offer affirmative murmurs to Jimin, your desires spoken through the intensity of the embrace with Yoongi.
“It's working, the baby is coming out,” Jimin exclaims with a mix of excitement and focus, his hands securing the baby's head with delicate precision to ensure a safe descent into the world.
Yoongi abandons your mouth, tracing a fiery path down to your neck, his lips leaving a trail of searing kisses and tantalizing bites. Your response is an involuntary groan, a symphony of pleasure escaping your lips, as you gasp out, “Fuuuck, Yoongi.”
“The head is completely out now!” Jimin’s voice breaks through the intense moment and in response, you instinctively grab Yoongi’s head, pulling him back up into a passionate kiss.
As your lips entwine in an ardently sensual dance, the symphony of pleasure resonates, eliciting increasingly fervent moans from you.
Breaking away, you gasp, “Fuck. Why does it feel like I’m coming?” Your breath comes in pants, and you sense a relieving tightness escaping your body.
Jimin swiftly takes charge, catching the remainder of your baby as it emerges, and Yoongi lends his support, ensuring Jimin's hands remain steady in the crucial moment.
The infant rests gently between your thighs in the hands of both Yoongi and Jimin, and as you gasp for air, you steal a glance downward. There, your precious baby lies, serene and silent. A moment of quietude settles in, and a disquieting realization begins to dawn upon you—silence, in this context, isn't the reassuring sound you anticipated.
Dread courses through you as you breathe heavily, realizing the absence of that expected newborn cry. Without hesitation, you extend your trembling arms, pulling your baby up against your chest in a desperate embrace.
An air of tension hangs heavy, mirrored in the anxious expressions on Jimin and Yoongi's faces, both men holding their breath, awaiting the sound that should signify life's beginning.
In an instinctual surge of emotion, you tear your shirt to shreds with one hand, cradling your newborn against your bare chest. Shock registers on both Jimin and Yoongi's faces as they witness this raw display of maternal instinct, captivated by the power and determination radiating from you.
As you gently rub the baby's back, waves of sadness wash over you, and tears stream down your face. In a choked voice, you express your fear, “This is why I should have delivered in the hospital. What if something happened to the baby and it's...gone?” The last part of the sentence catches in your throat, too emotional to articulate fully.
In the confined space of the car, you twist around, pressing your back against the seat as tears cascade down your cheeks. The anguish in your body is palpable, each sob causing a tremor that echoes the pain you're enduring.
In an instant, a second cry intertwines with yours, and you lower your gaze to behold your baby, tiny and fragile, yet alive. A surge of relief floods through every fiber of your being, mirrored in the eyes of the two men who exchange a profound, knowing glance.
Clutching your newborn close, you haven't even taken a moment to check the gender, but in this raw and tender moment, it hardly matters. All that echoes through your soul is the reassurance that everything is alright.
Overflowing with gratitude, your voice carries a symphony of love as your eyes dance between your husband and Jimin. “Thank you, both of you” you whisper, your heart swelling with the depth of the moment.
Yoongi whispers, his voice a tender melody, “You did incredible, babe,” as he leans in to press a gentle kiss against your cheek, his words echoing with admiration for your strength and resilience.
“No problem at all. You were amazing, ___,” Jimin commends, leaning back into the seat beside you, his hands stained with blood, that he wipes off on his pants.
“Jimin, could you check the trunk for some thermal blankets?” Yoongi requests, his gaze tenderly fixed on your baby, who has quieted down and now rests peacefully against your boobs—what he believes to be the most comforting place.
Jimin returns with a bundle of blankets, and Yoongi, with a sense of urgency, joins him in carefully wrapping you and the baby. The blankets cocoon you both, shielding you from the biting cold as you patiently await the arrival of the ambulance.
“Should we find anything to cut the cord with?” In a sudden burst of practicality, Jimin scans the car, his eyes searching for anything suitable to cut the cord.
“No, no. I've read that the baby can stay attached for hours and even days. So I'm fine waiting to do it in the hospital,” you say, your voice carrying a mixture of fatigue and overwhelming love. Your eyes remain fixed on your baby, and you don't glance at Jimin as you express your decision.
Then, a sensation grips your attention, warmth and thickness enveloping you between your legs. As you cast your gaze downward, the revelation dawns upon you – it's the placenta.
“You guys might need a new car,” Jimin breaks into laughter and Yoongi looks at him perplexed, before he scans the state of the car; it’s filled with blood, anatomic fluid and God knows what else. He reckons you’ll have to burn it, if it can’t be cleaned.
Half an hour post-delivery, the ambulance team arrives like guardian angels, swooping in to cradle you in their capable hands as they whisk you away to the sanctuary of the hospital.
Jimin swiftly summons roadside assistance, ensuring a caretaker for your stranded car, while he maneuvers his own vehicle through the snowy streets to the hospital.
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Nestled in the hospital room, you're navigating the nuances of new motherhood. The compassionate nurses guide you through the art of breastfeeding, and you're determined to master this intimate dance with your newborn.
Beside you, Yoongi shares in the enchantment, both of you reveling in the miracle of your beautiful baby girl, awestruck at the realization that you've crafted this extraordinary little being together.
Gazing into his eyes, a kaleidoscope of love, affection, and adoration, he whispers, “I love you, babe,” before tenderly leaning in for a heartfelt kiss.
“I love you too, Yoongi.”
Jimin sweeps into the room, a harbinger of warmth and color, bearing a bouquet of your favorite purple flowers. Your heart flutters as you press a grateful kiss to his cheek, expressing your thanks.
Deep gratitude colors Yoongi's voice as he wraps Jimin in a tight embrace. “Seriously, Jimin, thank you for everything,” he murmurs, sincerity etched in his words. Jimin, with a warm smile, responds, “It's no problem. You're welcome.”
Clutching Jimin's hand, you squeeze it tightly, your eyes reflecting sincere appreciation. “No, thank you. I would never have made it without you,” you express, the gravity of your words resonating in the room.
You express your heartfelt appreciation, looking directly at Jimin as you speak. “You are my best, best friend, Jimin. I love you and thank you,” your words carrying the weight of genuine gratitude. Jimin meets your gaze with tenderness, carefully keeping his eyes on your face, mindful of not stepping on any toes with Yoongi, not that there's anything he should be worried about.
“She’s really cute—the baby, I mean,” Jimin throws his hands up in mock defense, unable to contain his admiration. His genuine enthusiasm shines through as he revels in the adorable sight of your newborn.
Yoongi begins with a playful smirk, “Relax, Jimin. You're allowed to call my wife cute and pretty, and occasionally sneak a glance at her assets if the situation calls for it; like a birth or a bra mishap—but nothing more.” He chuckles, wrapping up his words with a friendly hug, leaving Jimin with a mix of relief and amusement.
Jimin's laughter resonates in response, and just as the sound fills the room, the door swings open, ushering in the rest of your friends.
They flood the room with warm greetings, and your eyes quickly catch Jungkook, who enters with a whimsical unicorn plushie and a vibrant bouquet in shades of purple, pink, and blue.
“These are for you,” he beams, thrusting the bouquet towards Yoongi, who delicately places them on the table beside you.
“Congratulations,” the boys chime in unison, closing in to catch a glimpse of your precious little one.
You shift your baby in your arms, delicately adjusting your gown to reveal the other breast for feeding. With each nourishing moment, you sense post-contractions coursing through your body, a gentle reminder of your uterus gradually returning to its normal size.
Jungkook, Taehyung, and Namjoon inadvertently direct their gaze toward your breasts, drawing Yoongi’s attention. However, Seokjin interjects sternly, “Enough, guys. Show some respect. Quit staring at her breasts while she's feeding. You've seen other breasts before; let's not be rude.”
Jimin lets out a chuckle from his position beside you on the bed, quietly noting that the others should consider themselves lucky that Yoongi didn't snap at them for sneaking glances at your breasts.
“Starting today, a strict no-gazing policy is in effect for anyone trying to sneak a peek at my wife's breasts or her vagina,” Yoongi declares, shooting a pointed yet appreciative smile in Jimin's direction.
Confusion flickers across the faces of all the guys as their gazes shift between Jimin, Yoongi, and then you, signaling that something intriguing might have unfolded.
As their jaws drop in surprise, you casually spill the details, “He played a crucial role in delivering the baby and got an unexpected front-row view of my vagina in the process.”
Yoongi clenches his jaw, his gaze piercing through the room as he asserts, “Yes, that happened. Eyes off—especially you two,” he warns, shooting a stern look at Jungkook and Taehyung, who quickly avert their eyes.
Jungkook hesitantly clears his throat, his curiosity overcoming his apprehension, “___, what's that on your neck?”
A rosy hue tints your cheeks as you recall the passionate love bite that Yoongi left on your neck just before the chaotic journey into labor began, and you find yourself cursing your husband under your breath for the intimate moment that now decorates your skin.
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What do you think??? Any kind of feedback is much appreciated ✨
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