#anyway take this because he makes me feel many sad emotions

[crow-talks-hockey]

-Margery Williams, The Velveteen Rabbit

[strayheat]

looking at dads try not to cry is torture because.

if they don't you can tell Exactly how enormously much it took out of them to walk that thin line and not let it happen

and if they Do you know exactly how enormously much it is for them not to be able to hold it despite trying so hard

[riseatlantisss]

The end we start from

Pairing : Astarion x female!reader/Tav Around 1,8 words Takes place after the events in Cazador's palace in act 3 (non-ascended Astarion, established relationship) Angst with a happy ending (and loooots of sex) <3

Astarion doesn’t feel good enough. you show him he’s everything.

TW : 18+ MDNI, unprotected sex, very angry/angsty/rough sex, fingering, mature language, mentions of death and depression, mentions of blood

A/N : when i don’t work, i do two things: i take care of my dog and i play BG3. i don’t eat. i don’t sleep. i don’t socialize. i just play BG3. and I write stuff about *him*.

Astarion is many things. Quiet is not one of them. But lately, that’s all he’s been, and you’ve been worrying about him night and day. Tonight is no exception. You wake up in the middle of the night and realize two things : not only is Astarion’s side of the bed empty but the sheets and pillows are untouched, uncrumpled. His side hasn’t been slept in. This isn’t right. Of course, he doesn’t really need to sleep but he always, always lays next to you at night, spooning you, playing with your hair and whispering sweet I love yous in your ear until you fall asleep. His absence means something’s off. Unable to shake off the anxiety, you get up in one swift motion, determined to find him. No chance you’re falling back asleep now anyway.

Your bare feet hit the cold marble floor and you shiver as you make your way accros the bedroom in a hurry. You think of searching outside in case he went for a hunt, but it turns out you don’t have to look too far. There he is, silently leaning against the wall by the window, gazing into the pitch-black night of the Underdark. The light in the room is so dim that you couldn’t even spot him from your bed. You approach him and your heart breaks a little when you notice the lingering sadness in his crimson eyes, enhanced by the faint light of the burning candles next to him.

You want to ask him if he’s ok but it’s obvious he’s not so instead, you remain silent and close the space between the two of you, wrapping your arms around him and gently resting your head on his shoulder.

“What are you thinking about?” You ask softly after a while, your voice barely above a whisper.

Astarion averts his gaze and gives you a faint smile, nothing but a twist of lips.

“Nothing,” he replies. “I’m just being selfish, as usual. Forgive me, y/n.”

You frown and stare at him incredulously. “You’re not selfish,” you say, surprised at how intensely he means it. “Why would you even say that?”

“I –” He pauses, rethinks his words. This does nothing to make you less worried. “I caused you great pain,” he finally says. “I put you in danger. Repeatedly, ever since we met. You could have died a hundred times and it would have been my own, entire fault.”

You look up to him and feel a lump form in your throat. You have never seen him look like this – grief in his eyes and etched into the lines of his face.

“I’m not dead, Astarion. I’m right here with you.” You say as you wrap your arms around his neck. He makes a sound somewhere near a sob and your arms tighten.

“But I did put you in danger and now you’re stuck with me for eternity, in the middle of nowhere, and you—" Again, he stops. He’s bad at this, at talking about emotions. But he fights through it because it’s you. And nothing can be left unsaid between the two of you. Not after everything that’s happened. “You deserve so much better. You deserve the world, and I can’t give it to you.” You’re not sure where this conversation is going but you don't want to find out. His lower lip quiver but he goes on, words spilling out of him like blood from a wound. “I can’t give it to you, and I’ll never be able to forgive myself for it. It’s killing me all over again.” You crumble under each one of his words. His lips are trembling now and you can’t stand it. You can’t but you can’t do him the dishonor of looking away either.

“Astarion, I chose this life.” Your hands flutter to his face, each one cupping a cold cheek, forcing him to look at you. Your heart is pounding, and you know he can feel it. “I had a choice; I could stay, or I could run, and I chose you. I’m not stuck here. I’m home.”

Astarion heaves a faltering breath in an attempt at composure. “Sometimes I think you would be happier without me. Better off.” He barely mouths the words, but you hear them all distinctively, nonetheless. “You should go and leave me here. Walk in the sun. Be happy and live your life.” You draw your hands away from his face and he steps back, speaking louder now.

“It won’t get any better in here,” he continues, gesturing urgently around the room. “It’ll always be cold and dark, I’ll always be a blood-thirsty monster. I belong to the shadows, and I’ll never be able to make you happy, so you might as well just leave.”

His words knock the air out of your lungs and, for a moment, you cannot breathe. You feel your pulse pounding in your veins and blood thrumming under your skin as your heartbreak turns into anger. That fucking idiot, you think, looking up at him through eyes blurred with tears.

“You don’t know what makes me happy. You don’t,” you shout, surprised by the vehemence in your voice. "And you certainly don't get to speak for me." Astarion looks at you in such confusion that you almost feel bad for a moment, but you continue.

“You – you make me happy, Astarion, gods you do. I would rather live an eternity in the Underdark with you than one more day in the fucking sun.” Your heart is clenching in your chest, and you can feel the heat pooling in your cheeks. “By no means would I be better off, let alone happier, without you. I can’t believe that you could even think –” You trail off and sigh in frustration. You can’t bring yourself to scream at him any longer because that’s all he’s ever known before you, screams and shouts and abuse, and you can’t do this to him. But that doesn’t leave you with many options to get through to him. Astarion opens his mouth to say something, but you don’t let him.

Without warning you grab his shirt to pull him close and your lips crash into his, knocking the breath out of both of you with the force that you collide with. It only fuels your rage because the moment his lips are on yours, you can’t help thinking that you almost lost this once and you can’t actually lose it. You won’t let that happen. So you kiss him harder. It’s rough and desperate and sloppy. It's harsh breath and biting teeth.

He turns you around and backs you against the wall. You take it rather hard, but you welcome the sting. Anything to shut him up about not being good enough for you. He crowds in closer, presses you even harder against the wall, shoving his knee between your thighs. His cold lips connect to your throat, making you eagerly tilt your head to give him access to your thrumming pulse dancing at your neck. You have absolutely no qualms about it. If he wants it, it’s his.

But he doesn’t take it. Instead, his mouth sucks and licks, making you squirm and rock your hips against him. You cling to him, grabbing his shoulders and sliding your hands down his shirt and to his back. He hoists you up like you weighed nothing and you wrap both legs around his waist. You tangle your hands in his curly silver hair and pull him forward to feel that mouth on yours again. His tongue running over your lip makes you grind faster, searching for more, more, more. You moan when his hand reaches beneath your gown and through your damp underwear.

Firm, icy fingers are stroking you into madness. You make a sound that’s close to a whimper, but more like a groan, because damn it, you are so impatient now. You are clenching – aching to have him inside.

He is gasping at the feeling of your fluttering around him, and you must be gasping too, but you’re not sure; your head falls back and it feels like you’re breathing, but you could just as well be drowning.

You dig your nails hard into his back - you need to channel the anger into something. Maybe you’ll be the one drawing blood this time. You lean forward to rest your dizzy head on his shoulder and groan in anticipation. Not wasting anymore time, he pushes his hard, large cock into you, going steadily until he’s all the way in.

“Harder. Fuck me harder.” You plead and he obeys.

He sets a pace that graces all the right spots, spurred on the increasingly desperate noises escaping your mouth. This is no effort at all for him, holding you up easily and fucking you hard with determination. But you can see it when you rest your forehead against his – the sheer weakness you feel is reflected right back at you and you know he needs this just as much as you do.

You are so close. You need to concentrate on breathing, just so you simply don’t die. Your lower back thuds against the wardrobe with your oh gods and fucks singing in tandem. The vampire trails open-mouthed kisses and little bites down your neck while maintaining the almost vicious pace in and out of you. Every stroke curls and loves and breaks you into submission. You forget to be angry because your release is in his hands and your body is desperately handing itself over to him.

Your thighs start to quiver around him, the sounds of wetness and the feeling of his own explosion of pleasure deep inside you taking you so high that eventually, you shatter into him. You’re so grateful for the strength holding you up, so you can fall apart.

Your repeatedly moan his name on your way back to consciousness, lips brushing softly against his pale skin.

Before you know what is happening, you break into a sob.

“Please…. Please don’t ever tell me to leave, ever again.” You try to articulate, your voice shaking uncontrollably.

He sinks down onto his knees, holding you in his lap and whispering, “Shh,” into your ear.

“I’m so sorry,” he says, his voice is low and full of gravel. He never sounded so sweet. “I love you, always have and always will. And you’re not going anywhere.”

[feyascorner]

Please please please I am in desperate need of Astarion comforting Tav.

Like Tav is always comforting everyone else, but there is never anybody to hold their hand when they are scared or hug them when they are sad. Please let them be scared. Let them be sad, let them be vulnerable and let them feel their own emotions.

Tav needs a hug :,)

a/n. no you're so right because I AM ALWAYS OPEN TO TAV LOVE!!!!! This ended up a lot more fluffy and lighthearted than I expected but I hope that’s okay! :) also this is not proofread pls excuse me for the grammar errors that are definitely in here.

You don’t mind helping others, really. You don’t mind guiding Shadowheart to escaping her evil goddess, you don’t mind finding a way to aid Gale’s ticking time bomb, and you don’t mind spending hours in battle to find a piece of infernal iron for Karlach. It’s natural after all, because they’re your precious companions.

But it’s also made the thought of being something else—the one being comforted—more shameful than anything.

It was just a bad day, honestly. Bits of your life being pricked at with needles. The whole week had been hellish, but today seemed to be bent on finally wiping you clean. A battle going wrong, the lake freezing over and preventing you from taking a bath, the pot of soup you were in charge of burning to cinders—they’re all small, but they add up. And when you find that your favorite pair of gloves are splitting at the seams, it’s your final straw.

You stumble into your tent, barely holding back tears as you close the flap shut behind you, signaling that you wanted to be alone. You collapse into your bedroll, face first as even the blanket beneath you isn’t enough to cushion you against the hard floor.

Gods.

You squeeze your eyes shut, begging your tears to leave. The others have a lot more problems at the moment—ones that wager between life and death—but you can’t help the overwhelming burst of emotions you’ve kept bottled in for weeks now. So many bad things are happening, but there’s no time for you to mourn, because the least you can do is stand beside your companions in their own grief. It forces you to constantly stay alert, keeping your heart open for them but shut closed for yourself.

It’s so, so overwhelming. It almost feels like it’ll swallow you whole.

“Are you alright, darling?”

You hadn’t even heard him entering the tent, and immediately your shoulders tense as you shoot up into a sitting position, wiping desperately at your eyes. You know they’re red, but you hope he ignores it. “No, I’m just tired. I’m turning in early for tonight, sorry.”

He stares at you, making his suspicion blatantly obvious to urge you to continue but you don’t, forcing your eyes to the ground. “No need to be sorry, my love. I was just making sure.”

You want to throw yourself into him. To let him hold you as you complain about the more mundane parts of life as well as the feelings wracking the sobs of your chest. To let him soothe you as all you can do is cry.

But you don’t. It’s just not what you do.

“Pity, these pretty things of yours,” he lifts your gloves that had been discarded on the ground with a cock of a brow. “I quite liked them. But…they don’t seem to be at a complete loss yet.”

You finally look at him.

“Why it just needs a bit of stitching and some polish. It’ll look even better than it did before with my handiwork,” he inspects the fabric closely. “Hm, I was finished with fixing Karlach’s shirt anyway, I suppose I could spare some time for your gloves.”

Despite his words, his eyes are gentle as they shift over to you, and it makes your lip quiver.

“I’ll ask again,” he says softly, and you know it’s an effort in vain to resist. “Are you alright?”

Like a river breaking through a dam, you fling yourself into him, tears already slipping down your cheeks as they smear against his shirt. You worry about the snot for a split second, yanking away, but he just pushes your head back to him, sighing with you practically wrapped on top of him.

“You should have told me before things had gotten this bad, my love,” he says, no true judgment laced in his words. If anything, he sounds amused. It makes you cry even harder as you wail loudly into his chest, with his hand rubbing soothing circles into your back.

It’s like a breath of fresh air.

“Would you like to talk about it?” He asks eventually after what seems like eternity, and your sobs have calmed to sniffles.

“…not now.”

“Very well,” he laces his fingers with yours, and you tilt your head up just enough to see the fond smile stretching on his lips. “I shall remain here until you’re ready. Until then, I have no quarrels with our current arrangement.”

You mumble against him as he lifts your knuckles to his lips. “…thank you for this.”

“You needed this,” he replies, as if it’s obvious. “I’m not you, of course, which is why comfort is not my strong suit, as charming as I am. I much prefer blowing off steam in a bloody battle, but this—“ he runs a hand through your hair, gentle enough not to pull at any strands. You resist the need to sigh into the feeling. “—this, I can do as many times as you need.”

[seungkw1]

sketchbook — xmh

♡ pairing: xu minghao x gn!reader ♡ theme: best friends to lovers, college au, fluff ♡ wc: 3.1k ♡ warnings: none

“why did i sign up for this stupid class?”

you mumbled it under your breath, but your best friend still heard it from across the room. he looks up from the book he’s reading, a concerned frown on his face.

“what’s wrong with the class?” he closes his book, his eyes resting on yours.

“the class is fine it’s just… i’m just bad at it.”

“i highly doubt that.” he gets up, joining you at your kitchen table currently cluttered with textbooks, homework, and various drawing materials. he reaches for your sketchpad. “let me see.”

“nuh-uh,” you say, closing the book. he grabs it from you anyway.

“minghao! come on,” you shout at him. he ignores you, flipping through the pages.

“most of those are shitty reject drawings that i started and gave up on, nobody needs to see those.”

he continues perusing through the book quickly, but pauses at a particular page. you take the chance and reach for the sketchpad again, grabbing hold of it.

“wait! i like this one.”

you glance at the drawing he’s looking at. it’s the side profile of a classmate, drawn as a warm-up exercise.

“what? that was just a warm-up sketch, and it’s not even good. it looks nothing like the girl i was drawing.”

minghao looks up at you. “that doesn’t mean it’s bad. art isn’t necessarily about drawing things exactly the way they look, it’s about your interpretation of the subject. that’s like the whole point.”

“i wasn’t interpreting anything here, i was literally just trying to draw her face.”

“but look,” he says, turning the book so you can see it. “look at the way she’s looking into the distance. she looks sad, but in a nostalgic way.”

you stare at the sketch. “i don’t see it.”

“but that’s part of it too - art isn’t always about knowing the exact meaning of the piece, it’s also open to interpretation on the viewer’s perspective. and i like the way you portrayed her emotion.” 

you narrow your eyes at him. “you’re just making that up to make me feel better.”

“i’m not! i promise. i really like your art style, y/n.”

you want to roll your eyes at him, but he looks too sincere. “okay but how can i have an art style if i literally started drawing two weeks ago at the start of the semester? i don’t even know what i’m doing.”

“look at all your drawings though,” he flips the pages one at a time. “you press really hard when you draw, so it gives everything a very bold, sharp look. and combined with the way you shade, it gives it a dramatic edge.”

you look at your sketches again. they’re still unsightly in your eyes, but you do kind of see what he means.

“well, that’s good to know i guess. but it’s still hard,” you mope. “i thought this would be an easy elective to get an A in but now i’m worried.”

“it’s an intro class - i’m sure the professor isn’t expecting you to be picasso on day one. just keep practicing and you’ll be perfectly fine.”

one of the many things you love about minghao: he always knows how to make you feel reassured. 

“you’re probably right,” you reply. “i don’t know what i should draw for practice, though.”

“well, what do you want to improve the most?”

you think for a second. “our next project is a life drawing, but drawing people is so hard. so maybe that but what am i supposed to do, just draw random people?”

“sure, why not?”

“because that’s weird!”

“okay, well it doesn’t have to be a random person. here, try drawing me.”

“you?? right now?”

“yeah.”

you open your mouth to protest, but you pause, realizing it might not be a bad idea. 

you shrug as you reach for your pencils. “okay, i guess. you can't get mad when it turns out terrible though.”

minghao smiles softly. he situates himself in the chair, focusing his gaze off in the distance. you pick up your sketchbook, holding it at a comfortable angle as you hold your pencil above the page. you think for a minute - you never know where to start when you have to draw a face. you glance back up at minghao, skimming across his features - naturally, you land on his eyes. you always forget how pretty they are: dark brown, soft, calm - giving him a permanent aura of being deep in thought. 

you look back down at the blank page, it's emptiness seemingly taunting you. with a sigh you touch the dulled lead tip to the paper, making your first stroke -  the curvature of minghao’s eyelid appearing on the page. you peep back up at your subject. to your surprise, your shape isn't too far off from reality. you continue, sketching his lower eyelid, his iris, his long dark eyelashes. you erase your marks a few times when they don't look quite right, but before long the image of an eye that looks mostly like minghao’s has formed. 

you move to his nose, drawing the line of its sharp bridge, sketching a circle to render its round, button-shaped end - bringing the shape of his face to life. you peer up at his face, your pencil continuing its strokes, but you pause as you arrive at his lips. they are soft, plump, perfectly formed, highly kissable. you sketch the delicate curves, emphasizing their pillowy nature. you find yourself absentmindedly in a trance when you realize you’ve been staring at him for too long - you’ve already finished drawing his mouth. you feel your cheeks turn warm, praying he can’t see you getting flustered out of the corner of his eye. 

you move on, sketching his soft but strong jawline, his ears - adorned with his usual jewelry, adding quick wispy lines to form the shape of his long hair. before long the essence of minghao has materialized in your notebook.

as you finish, you hold your sketchpad up to compare your drawing to your subject. you don’t love it, and it’s nowhere near perfect. but it is decidedly good enough.

“okay, i’m done, i guess.” you set the notebook down, hesitantly sliding it across the table toward minghao. he picks it up, turning it to face him as he looks at it for the first time. the edges of his mouth twitch upward into a subtle smile, but he doesn’t say anything.

“you hate it.”

minghao looks up at you. “what? no, i love it.” he looks back at the paper with a pleased grin. “i’m telling you, you’re really good at portraying emotion.”

“and what emotion exactly did i portray?”

he shows you your drawing. “i look wistful - like i’m caught in a daydream of unrequieted love.”

you feel your stomach do a flip, but you play it cool, crossing your arms and rolling your eyes at him. “well, i didn’t do that on purpose. but i’m glad you like it.” you extend your hand to take back the notebook, but he turns it toward him again, taking another look. 

“can i keep it?” he looks up at you, his striking brown eyes making contact with yours. you stifle a gulp as you reply.

“um… sure, i guess so. if you really want it.”

he gives you a soft smile, pleased at your response. “i really do.” he carefully tears the page along the perforation, separating it from its spiral binding. he closes the sketchbook and hands it back to you. you return it to its place in your backpack.

“well, thanks for letting me practice on you, i appreciate it.”

“of course. if you need any more practice let me know - since i see you most days anyway.”

“you’re the best.”

“i know,” he replies smugly. you pick up your eraser and lob it at him. he manages to catch it with one hand, giving you a sly look as you jump out of your chair, running from him before he can throw it back. he follows you, chasing you around your apartment - you shout at him, feigning anger, but your laughter gives you away. 

another thing you love about minghao: being with him is always so easy.

—

you didn’t mean to make drawing minghao a regular occurrence. but on one particularly crisp fall day, you find yourself absentmindedly sketching his features as you eat lunch together in the park. he’s reading for his literature class, and you’re supposed to be studying for your sociology course, but you keep zoning out. it’s not your fault that the text is dull, and that the cherub-like rosiness coloring his cheeks makes him look more ethereal than usual. renaissance paintings of angels have nothing on how beautiful he looks right now, you think to yourself. 

you also definitely didn’t mean to start falling for your best friend, but here you are.

delicate pencil strokes paint the wisps of his bangs falling over his eyes as he is studiously engrossed in his book, his long eyelashes peeking through the curtain of hair. you focus on perfecting the shape of his face - glancing up to compare your rendering to your subject - when you notice him looking back at you.

“what are you doing?” he asks, genuinely curious.

you’re about to shut your notebook in a panic, when you realize that would only look more suspicious. 

“nothing, just…”

he reaches for your notebook, his fingers brushing over the top of the page as he tilts it down so he can see. he lets out a soft chuckle.

“practicing again, i see,” he says, casually, but clearly teasing you a little. “i thought you were supposed to be studying for your sociology exam.”

“i am,” you insist. he raises his eyebrow at you. “i was just taking a break,” you add. the look on his face tells you he’s not convinced, but he doesn’t press you further.

“it looks good, i can tell you’re getting better at drawing from a reference.”

“i guess it is getting a little easier,” you admit. 

minghao smiles. “good,” he affirms, before going back to his text without another word. 

you find yourself gazing dreamily at the man before you, lost in aimless thoughts, imagining the feel of his hair tangled around your fingers, his skin softly pressed against your cheeks, his lips brushing against yours. eventually he notices, peeking up at you through his bangs. you swiftly return to your drawing, only to realize you've already finished. his portrait looks slightly cartoonish, and nowhere nearly as beautiful as the real thing, but you decide it's not half bad. 

you half-heartedly resume your studies, sneaking glances at minghao here and there. every glimpse makes your heart flutter - you feel like an idiot, you're in college for christ's sake, and here you are having an entire crush on your closest friend. 

just tell him how you feel, part of your mind tries to convince you. 

but what if it ruins our friendship? another part of you worries. 

you realize you're staring at him again when he looks up from his book, his gaze meeting yours. 

“hmm? what is it?” he asks you calmly. 

“i…” 

you hesitate. his eyes rest on your face attentively.

you let out a small sigh. “i’m getting cold. can we go inside?”

he smiles softly, marking his page as he closes his book. “of course.”

minghao walks you to your next class, which is conveniently located in the building next to his next class. 

“well, see ya later,” you tell him as you turn to enter the building. 

“y/n…”

you freeze as he grabs your arm. you turn back around, looking at him expectantly. he lifts his hand up to your head, tenderly reaching for your hair. you realize you're holding your breath. you exhale as his fingers graze your scalp softly, plucking something off of your head. 

he holds a small yellow piece up to you. “you had a leaf in your hair.” 

your panicking ceases, leaving you a bit disappointed, but you can't help but smile at him.

“thanks, minghao. what would i do without you?”

“walk around with leaves in your hair all day, probably.”

you playfully give him a light shove. he reaches for the door, opening it for you as you head off to class. 

“i'm coming over tonight, if that's alright,” he says as you step through the doorway. 

“of course,” you say, turning over your shoulder to face him. “though, i should probably start charging you rent as much as you're at my place.”

he smiles back at you. “see you later, y/n.”

he disappears as the door shuts quickly. you spend the rest of the afternoon in a daydream, impatiently counting the hours until you see him again. 

—

“how’s the studying going?” minghao asks from the other end of the couch. he sets his book down, pausing so he can take his hoodie off. his plain black t-shirt rises up as he does, revealing his entire midriff. you try not to gawk too hard. he stares at you as he tosses the hoodie aside - you realize he is awaiting your response. 

you look down at your notebook, where you’ve once again been sketching his face. “um… pretty good,” you lie. “are you hungry?” you ask, changing the subject.

“starving, actually,” he admits.

“well, i can offer you ramen, or… actually, that’s about it.”

he grins at you. “ramen sounds great. want me to make some-”

“nope,” you respond as you flip your notebook over, setting it face down on the seat next to you. “i got it.” you rise and head to the kitchen. 

you cook the noodles, serving them into two bowls and carrying them back to the living room. you set the bowls on the coffee table, reaching over to set one in front of minghao - but you feel your leg bump against something. you look down to see your notebook fall to the floor - landing right side up. before you can grab it, minghao has already picked it up for you. he goes to hand it back to you, but pauses as he sees your sketches. you go to swipe it out of his hands, but miss as he pulls back, looking at his own face doodled on your pages.

“you were drawing me again.” it wasn’t a question.

you try to quickly think of some excuse, anything, to get you out of this one, but your mind comes up blank. you decide to try and play it off.

“yes,” you reply with feigned confidence as you sit down next to him. he looks up at you, then back down to the paper. you stare at him, waiting for him to say something else, but he says nothing.

“i like to practice whenever i can,” you add with a shrug.

he flips through your notebook. “whenever you can, or whenever you’re with me?”

“um… i-”

“because these all sure look like me, y/n.”

“so?” you ask him. you meant for your tone to be casual, but it came out a bit more defensive than intended.

his eyes meet yours again. he looks at you warmly, but you can’t tell what he’s thinking. your heart beats rapidly in your chest. 

“so,” he answers as he sets the notebook aside. “i'm wondering, if…” he scoots closer to you, lifting his hand to your face, gently brushing your cheek with his thumb. your skin feels like it's on fire. his fingers tucked under your chin delicately, he draws your face in toward his. you gasp softly. 

“if you feel the same way about me, as i feel about you.”

your heart is racing. you feel dizzy. he's so close to you, a few more inches and your noses would touch. his plump lips wait enticingly. 

“and how do you feel about me?” you manage to ask, your voice barely more than a whisper. his deep brown eyes stare longingly into yours. you’re pretty sure you know the answer, you hope you know the answer, but you need him to confirm it. 

suddenly, he kisses you. 

he kisses you, setting alight fireworks inside you. his soft lips touch against yours ever so gently, his nose pressing against your cheek, his hand holding your face tenderly in his palm, then sliding to the back of your neck, drawing you closer still into him. your chest presses against his, his other arm wrapping around your waist, his large hand settling upon the small of your back. you kiss him back, your lips locked onto his like your life depends on it. you've thought of this, dreamt of this, so many times before, all the years you've known minghao - yet you never could have imagined how thrilling, exhilarating, freeing it would be to finally be here, in his arms, world stopped, nothing matters except you and him, so lovingly embraced - together. 

electricity pulsates through your skin, every nerve in your body dancing. slowly, minghao’s lips part from yours. you lock eyes with him - in all the time you've known him, he's always been a sentimental person, but you've never seen such love and adoration beaming from him like you see now. 

and it's all for you. 

a giggle escapes you. minghao looks at you, a wide grin spreading across his face. you run your hands through his hair, a sensation you've waited so long to experience - it's every bit as delightful as you imagined. 

“hao…” you start.

he plants another kiss on your lips. “hmm?” he asks, still glowing at you. 

“how long have you felt this way?” you ask softly. 

“i've had feelings for you since the day we met, and i've loved you more every day since.” 

you boop your nose against his, giving him a fake stern look. 

“and why didn't you tell me?”

he feigns a pouty face back at you. “why didn't you tell me?”

you blow a tiny raspberry at him. he smiles, pulling you into him, wrapping his arms around you tightly as he kisses your cheek repeatedly. you laugh, held in his warm embrace, overflowing with emotions. 

finally, you can admit it: you're in love with your best friend - and he just so happens to love you back. 

[rosenclaws]

obsessed with your ex || Worst!Logan Howlett smut

summary: In his world you were his wife and he loved you and then you died. In this world you're his girlfriend and he loves you. At least you think he does. Still you can't help the voice in the back of your head telling you that you're nothing but a sad replacement.

warnings: SMUT, MINORS DNI!! 18+ ONLY. insecure + jealous!reader, a very very toxic mindset, the reader's mind is very mean to her, reader is a mutant that can make objects disappear, angst, happy ending, rough sex, riding, french kissing, oral (f!receiving), a slight breakdown, soft sex, missionary, Logan is kinda a softie, cockwarming, fingering.

wc: 2.5k

a/n: Okay so it's here!! I need to make this clear that the readers mindset is NOT healthy and that relationships need good communication. That being said here's my fic idea that I've been thinking about for a bit. I love Olivia Rodrigo sm (I even saw her in concert!!) and this song was just begging to be written into a fic. Anyways I really hope you like it and that it's not too insane lmao. Also i made the graphic but i kinda hate it but i dont wanna change it so here we are I know it's ugly but its FINE

How long have you been here? Staring. Observing every little thing about you. Your nose, your eyes, your lips, your hair, your chin. The way your arms fall by your sides. Every. Little. Detail.

Did she have the same colored eyes? Did she talk like you? Was she smart? Was she powerful? Did he look at her the same way? Did he fuck her like he fucks you?

You clench your fists as you stare angrily at the mirror. He loves you. He says he loves you and yet it feels like you can never compare to her. She was the love of his life. She was an X-Men. She died. She was you. You're his dead fucking wife in his universe while you were nothing to the Logan in this one. 

He looked at you like a kicked puppy that first day you met. A lost little pet that had been searching for its owner. Dragged through hell and back just to get to you. It was easy to fall for him. Handsome, a little rough around the edges. You hadn’t even been dating for that long but it didn’t matter right? He worshiped you. He loved you. He promised he loved you.

But sometimes in the back of your head you wonder if when he's kissing you, does he imagine her? Does he close his eyes while he's pounding into you and imagine it's her? How could you ever compete? She was perfect, she was kind, she was everything to him. Spiraling deeper and deeper into a whirlpool of doubt and envy. There's a heavy pounding on the door but you choose to ignore it. Too wrapped up in your twisted mind to care. 

"Sweetheart, let me in." Logan's gruff voice was slightly muffled by the door. 

You clench your jaw as you finally tear your eyes away from the mirror. You slam open the door taking Logan by surprise. His eyes scan yours for injury, a worried look in his face as he steps into the bathroom. 

"I got worried, you were in here a long time." His arms wrap around your waist. 

He's looking at you with pity. At least that's what your brain tells you. Was he worried that you were hurt because he loves you or because he was thinking of her death again? You know he still dreams of her. He can hide it when he's awake but the nightmares don't lie. It hurts so bad. Love me. Love me. You're jealous you know. She's dead, she's gone. So why can't he love you. You push him off and storm out the bathroom. Nothing makes sense anymore in your head. 

"What the fuck?" Logan follows you and you feel yourself tensing up. 

It's a miracle your powers haven't started to go haywire yet. So many different emotions swirl around in your head until it mixes together to form one single feeling.

Need.

You grab Logan's shirt and pull him into you. Smashing your lips onto his with a hunger that you've never felt before. Logan hisses as you bite his bottom lip harshly but you don't give him time to say anything as you slip your tongue into his mouth. He groans as he starts to take some control back. Hands slipping up your shirt and ripping to shreds with ease.

You pull back from his lips, chest heaving for air as you paw at his shirt. Silently demanding he take it off which he happily does. Your lips are back onto his in an instant. He slowly walks you back until you fall onto the bed. You fall onto the bed and lick your lips. The bugle in his pants is evident as you flick your hand and the belt disappears. 

"I liked that belt." You pay no mind to his comment as you unbutton his jeans and pull them down, leaving him in his boxers. 

"Easy there sweetheart," Logan pushes you back gently and crawls on top of you. Logan kisses down your chest, teasing each nipple with his tongue. 

"Let me take my time." He purrs.

His hands touch and squeeze your breasts roughly making you whine. You watch his arms move, god he's so hot. He's close to making you forget. He kisses down, down, all the way down. He sneaks out the tip of his claws to pop open the button of your pants and he yanks them down until they're all the way off.

"There she is, my perfect girl." His girl. That's right your his girl. No one else's.

Logan pulls your panties to the side as he situates himself between your legs. He stuffs his face without shame, licking hungrily and practically moaning at the taste. You arch your back as Logan devours you. Watching his back muscles move are mesmerizing. He's yours. He loves you. He promises he does.

You can't stop the thoughts that begin to invade you. Overwhelmed by pleasure from Logan and pain from the horrible ideas that pop into your head. Did he do this with her too? Did he worship her? Do you taste like her? Is that why he can't get enough? 

"Fuck!" You hiss as you sit up and tell Logan to stop. He does immediately, wondering what the hell is going on. 

"Can't fucking wait." You scratch down his chest with your nails. He groans and tries to crawl on top of you but you shake your head. 

"I'm going to ride you until you can't come anymore." You growl.

You bite his shoulder harshly making him hiss. It heals right up much to your dismay. How badly you wish you could mark him. You make his boxers disappear but before he can make a smart comment you sink down on him all the way. You whimper as you start to bounce on his cock. Loving how much he fills you.

You need to be fucked stupid. You're desperate for Logan to fuck every bad thought out of your head. To promise that he loves you so that you can believe him. You want to believe him. Please, you have to believe him. 

"Sweetheart." Logan's breath is labored as you relentlessly fuck yourself on his cock. You feel so damn good but fuck he can tell something is on your mind. 

"What do you need, let me help you." He sits up on his hands, placing one on your back as he tries to get you to slow down. His words make you want to scream. What do you need? You look at him and the only thing your rotten brain can tell you is that he is thinking of her. 

"I need you to fucking love me!" You yell.

The dam of built up feelings breaks down as tears pour out of your eyes. Ugly, horrible sobs that make your body shake. Logan watches with horror in his eyes as he stills your hips, using his strength to lift you off of him as you continue to cry. 

"I do love you." He says softly but you shake your head. 

"No!" You shout. You pound your fist against Logan's chest over and over again but he barely moves. 

"You love her! I know you do." Logan's heart breaks at the sound of your sobs. 

"I'm not your dead fucking wife Logan!" You should regret the words coming out of your mouth but you can't stop them. 

"You look at me and you see her. Like I'm just some fucking placeholder!" You let out an anguished scream as Logan captures your wrists in his hands. You know the stories. She was a hero, she was perfect in every single way. 

"How can I compete with, with her?" You say completely defeated.

Your head falls against his chest. There's a sense of relief that washes over you. Thoughts that have plagued you for months are finally out in the open. Yet the fear of what comes next overtakes any other feeling.

"Look at me." Logan tilts your head up but you push his hand away. 

"Sweetheart." He sighs and lets go of your face.

Logan's never been good at this. Talking. Being vulnerable. Then he lost everything and he hardened even more and he just. This was a new chance at life and even though it's hard he can't lose it all again. 

"I know you're not her. Of course I do." Logan presses his forehead against yours, trying to get you to look at him. 

"You loved her..." You croak out. 

"I did love her. She was my wife. But I love you too. In a different way." He's a different man. Having gone through tremendous loss. It shaped him into who he is now. 

"You're different people. Your powers act differently, you talk differently, you feel different. You are not a replacement." He says firmly. 

When you finally look at him he feels this horrible pit in his stomach. He wipes away your tears but doesn't make any other move. It's not the right time.

"Would you have even given me a second thought? If I didn't look like her?" You ask, that question has haunted you for a while now but you never asked, too afraid of the answer. Logan is silent, unsure of how to answer. 

"When I first saw you it was like a punch in the face." He starts. "For a moment I was 20 years in the past. Then I snapped out of it. You look like her, yes but you’re not her.” He gently traces a small scar on your jaw that you got when you were a child. 

“I’m not the same as your Logan right? He was a leader, a hero and I was an angry drunk murderer.” 

“I’m not gonna start listing all your fucking differences sweetheart, but I swear on my life that I love you for you.” He pulls you into a tight hug as you start to cry again. You cling onto him as tight as you can. The bad thoughts don’t just stop, even if you want them to but Logans whispering sweet words in your ear. Pushing out every bad thought for now.

“Logan,” You take a deep breath, letting Logan invade all your senses. Tobacco and whiskey. 

“I need you.” He’s hesitant, not sure if it’s the right time.

“Please, I just need you.”

“Okay sweetheart, you have me.” He slowly rolls you over and lays you on your back.

He captures your lips into a kiss. His hips rolling slowly making you moan softly. His lips drift from your lips to the corner of your mouth to your cheek, trailing down. Each one so gentle, so full of love.

“You have this spot, righttt here.” Logan nibbles on your neck and you gasp when bites right at this spot that drives you wild. You melt into the mattress as he kisses over it.

“Always makes you relax.” He crawls lower, kissing down your body. He sits up on his knees and grabs a pillow to place under your back.

“I know you like to be slightly elevated because it means I can go just a little deeper.” He purrs as he takes his cock in his hands and gently rubs the tip of it along your folds. He slides two fingers into your cunt slowly.

“Know that my fingers drive you absolutely wild, that you need me to go slow to start.” You nod absentmindedly.

You never realized he picked up on all these things. His fingers start to slide in smoother, your cunt getting wetter for him. He leans down and takes a deep breath, groaning at the scent. He slips them out and licks them clean.

“Relax sweetheart,” He spreads your thighs and slips in all the way. Going slow but unrelenting, stretching you just how you like.

“So impatient, you never let me take it easy on you right? Just wanna be full all the time.” He leans down on his elbows as he rolls his hips nice and slow.

There will be no rough sex this time, this is about love. To show you that he truly does love you for you.

“Look at me,” He tilts your head so that your eyes meet. He smiles at the desperate look on your face.

“You can pretend it makes you all embarrassed, but I know you like eye contact.” He hums as he angles his hips so that he hits that perfect spot.

You jolt as pleasure rocks through your whole body but he keeps you under him. He’s slowly and methodically tearing you apart. Every touch, every word out of his mouth just makes it better. He knows. Of course he does.

“I love you Logan.” Your hands cup his face as you stare into his hazel eyes.

This time not filled with lust, but with a true deep love. He looks at you like you’re everything.

“I love you too.” He kisses you as he starts to pick up the pace of his thrusts. He smirks as he feels you start to squirm under him. You could never help it when you were close.

“Come on sweetheart, just let go.” He whispers in your ear.

His deep voice paired with the unrelenting feeling of his cock is all it takes. He holds you in his firm arms as a warm and wonderful tingling sensation runs through your whole body. A blissful smile on your face as you tilt your head back.

You feel your whole body relax as your mind calms. Logan tries to hide his growls as he fucks into you a little faster, until he’s coming hard and deep inside of you. He sighs in contentment as he stays inside of you. He taps your cheek lightly and you look up at him.

“I love you. No one else. Just you.” He moves to pull out but you whine. You need to be close to him right now. He chuckles as he slowly moves to your side. Spooning you tightly with his cock still deep inside of you.

“Can we talk?” You ask shyly.

“About what?” Logan grunts as he pulls you as close as he can get you.

“Anything?” He’s not much of a talker so he asks the questions instead.

How did you discover your powers? How did you meet wade? Just anything and everything and you tell him.

You talk for who knows how long. Staying wrapped in each other's arms. It helps, it really does. Logan listens, he really does listen. He wants to get to know you. He loves you. You rest your head on his chest, tracing shapes into his palm as you talk.

For the first time in a while your mind seems to settle. Ignoring any thought that may try and ruin your mood. It’s just you and him right now. There’s no looming figure of your alternate selves, not anymore.

Just you and Logan. Forever.

[chaoticbardlady99]

I Wondered If I Could Come Home (Astarion x F! pregnant reader) (Part 3)

Synopsis: A hag has set her eyes on you and Eowyn- Astarion is determined to kill the damn thing.

CW: Mentions of child loss

Author note: Likes, Comments, and Reblogs are much appreciated!!!!

Picture does not belong to me! Please reach out to me if it is yours!

P.s. lightly edited

Month 8 has been blissful and going into your last month- you actually feel stronger than you have the entire time.

You sit on a bench, reading another book about babies (you save the Dhampir books for locations with less eyes), as Astarion throws a ball with Scratch and Wide Eyes (Karlach thought her name for the Owlbear was clever) in the local park. Astarion had been fed up with their zoomie shenanigans since they began earlier this morning. You wanted to go outside anyway- so it was perfect!

Eowyn kicks every so often to let you know that she is still there and doesn’t intend on leaving anytime soon, but overall, it’s been a really easy day. It’s fun to be able to watch Astarion enjoy such mundane life activities and it makes you realize how many simple things in your life that you have taken for granted.

You smile to yourself as you continue to read your book and you finally feel hungry enough to begin munching on the pastry Astarion bought you.

It was an apple cupcake and it was surprisingly very very yummy.

“My, my,” a scratchy voice says, “aren’t you a pretty little bred thing.”

You feel the hairs on your neck stand up and you turn very slowly to look at the elderly woman who stares at you with a look of hunger in her eyes. Oh- it’s the woman Astarion bought the cupcake from. She looked… friendlier earlier?

You don’t know why you feel like you are in danger all of a sudden, but your arms go over your stomach protectively- one of them ready to fire a cantrip if needed. The energy around her feels familiar, but different- you’ve been in the presence of this type of magic before, but you can’t remember when.

“You are that pretty girl that lives in the house with the dark curtains,” she steps closer, “you come and buy those herbs with your little Cleric friend!”

Oh- maybe that’s why I recognize her more? I’ve seen her more than I’ve realized?

“You know, Droplet, I could take that little one off your hands.”

Your whole body freezes at the statement and her already wicked smile becomes even more menacing and even intimidating.

“You do look close to death as is- you don’t really want to birth a child you won’t survive having do you? Especially not a bloodthirsty Dhampir!”

You feel your heart racing, a deep sadness and fear is coursing through you.

Eowyn, my sweet girl, you are not going anywhere.

That relieves some of the uncomfortable emotions stirring within you, but this woman has you in a trance. You can’t look away from her and you don’t feel like you can move.

“I- I don’t know you,” you say shakily, “I- you need to walk away, please. I’m not interested and I don’t know what you are talking about.”

You don’t even sound convincing to yourself. You begin to feel really sleepy all of a sudden and your eyes are becoming harder to keep open. Something is wrong and as much as you want to call out to Astarion- your mouth feels heavy.

“Oh, Droplet,” the woman tuts, “it will be okay- you’ll wake up and it will all be bet-“

“What in the hells do you think you are doing?”

Whatever spell the woman had tried to put you under broke when she jumped at Astarion’s voice. You look over at the father of your child and you almost begin to sob. You have never been more grateful for how menacing Astarion can look when he wants to.

“Oh, hello!” she recovers her composure, “I know this young, adorably pregnant girl from the market. I was just offering to… adopt.”

“Oh yes,” Astarion snarls, “because Hags are known for their kind hearted souls and their selfless adoption of children.”

You feel sick to your stomach. Scratch is up on the bench and standing between you and the Hag- his hackles are raised and a long, low growl is released from his throat while Wide Eyes stands right next to you as close as he can get.

The Hag looks at you, then Astarion, then Scratch, and lastly, Wide Eyes before she returns her gaze back to yours. She gives you one last wide grin.

“I will see you later, Droplet. You should know that I always get what I want.”

You turn to Astarion who is pushing past the Owlbear- your face is in between his hands in an instant and he’s frantically searching over you- looking for signs of maltreatment..

Astarion pulls out an antidote from his pocket and makes you drink it- just in case the woman had intentionally poisoned the cupcake. It didn’t make the intense sleepiness you feel go away, but at least you know you aren’t dying.

It doesn’t matter to him though- Astarion is quick to pull you up and support you while you walk home. You can tell Astarion wants to just pick you up and run back home to Shadowheart, but you both know how crazy that might look considering normal men who have Astarion’s physique can’t carry pregnant women.

The park is only a block away, but it felt like it took hours. The world is hazy and you shift in and out of focus as Shadowheart begins to check on you.

“Wh-when did Shaodowww smart get here?”

“Will you please figure out what’s wrong already, CLERIC!?”

Astarion yells and your jumbled brain jumps- tears come falling out of your eyes.

“I-I’m sorry,” you sob, “I- I didn’t- I shouldn’t-“

“Shhhhhhhh, my Darling,” Astarion is sitting next to you in an instant as you begin to tilt over, “it’s okay- this is not your fault.”

“You….. sur…..”

Your question dies on your lips as you give into the exhaustion and fall asleep with your head on Astarion’s shoulder.

***********************

Astarion’s chest loosens when Jaheira, Minsc, Gale, and Halsin arrive. At least now he can go and kill the hag without worrying about dying in the process. He almost left after you had fallen asleep- the muffin he had bought you had in fact been laced with a sleeping potion. Astarion felt like a complete idiot, but Gale reassured him that he couldn’t have possibly known.

You are laying peacefully asleep in your bed and Astarion finds himself putting his hand against your belly to make sure Eowyn is okay- her kicks give him instant relief from the anxiety he is feeling.

He almost lost both of you and that thought is still enough to make Astarion homicidal. He will not let another evil individual take his life, his happiness- his home- ever again.

“S-star?”

Your eyes are staring at him lazily as you try to blink away the sleepiness. Astarion gently grasps your hand and brushes the stray hairs out of your face.

“I’m right here, my Love,” Astarion whispers, “I’m not going to let anything happen to either of you. I promise.”

You whimper and sniffle at Astarion’s words- your bottom lip trembling. Astarion climbs into the bed behind you and holds you to him- you burst into tears.

“I al-almost lost-“ you say through sobs, “Eow-“

“Shhhh Darling, it’s okay. She’s okay,” he soothes, “I’m going with the others to kill the Hag. Jaheira and Shadowheart are going to stay here with you- okay?”

“Don’t go,” you turn awkwardly to look at him, your face is grief stricken, “I don’t want to lose you- please don’t go.”

“Darling…”

“Please.”

Right as Astarion responds- Gale is knocking on the door.

“Would it be alright if I came in?”

“Yes,” you both say in unison.

Gale smiles at Astarion sadly after he looks at you. Astarion didn’t think about the fact that it was hard for your friends to see you in this emotional state until he moved in. Shadowheart cries after leaving the room when you’ve had a particularly scary vomiting episode or false contraction. She is terrified for you and it made him realize he had been wrong about her as well. Shadowheart is a selfless person for the right people.

“Minsc and Halsin are about ready to go, Astarion,” Gale looks between the two of you- noticing how the comment created some tension, “Tav- he will come back alive. We all will. We fought Auntie Ethel as a group of total strangers with no battle experience together and won. This will be a breeze, my Friend.”

“You really think so?”

“I know so.”

You take a deep, inhale in and with one last sniff you agree to not put up a fight about Astarion going. Astarion can’t believe that you would trust Gale’s opinion on the matter more, but he does understand the sentiment. It’s how he feels about Jaheira and Shadowheart staying behind.

He leaves a chaste kiss on your forehead and whispers promises of seeing you soon- promises he intends on keeping.

[talkbycolor]

I deserve this

A/N; at this point its obvious that i inspire in rebzyyx songs

Pairing; "Your Boyfriend" x AFAB!Reader (cus people are scared of the word trans)

CW; reader becomes willing at the end i swear / unhealthy, obsessive and possesive love / sensitive topics such as mental health, depression, anxiety, fear of abandonment, dissociation, suicidal thoughts / a crazy concept: he talks about his emotions!! / non-con, violence, like, i cry while i masturbate

It's quite blurry trying to remember how it all started, it seemed harmless to accept a date from a stranger, he gave you a beautiful rose and was quite kind to you.

Feeling that people could like you, that someone could be romantically interested in you, because of who you are, your personality, that they knew your… desires?

Because you had dreams, of course.

…

Your dream was to live, to live a quiet life, a stable, pleasant job, with good pay, a normal and peaceful life, where the deep emptiness in your heart was non-existent, years had passed and the monotonous feeling did not disappear, you had already accepted the pain, after all, if you felt that constantly it was probably because you did something wrong at some point, right?

But that was a personal dream that would never be shared.

And it's not like that matters now, not when you're in… A room, that's funny, your last memory is of Peter slamming you against the table to tie your limbs since their last date didn't end as expected and It was time to go home.

Return to an empty home, for what? Peter was more than willing to take care of you, why was he so scary? Accepting it would have made things easier, but you ruined everything by trying to run away, you even fought tooth and nail, that was too pathetic now that you remember it, maybe you DO deserve all the shit that is happening.

You could have saved yourself so much terror and attacks.

"PETER ENOUGH! PLEASE! LET ME GO! NO! NO! FUCK, PLEASE!" You tore out your throat with terrified screams and tried to claw at his skin until your fingers were bloody, biting the hands that tried to stop your screams, hitting his face with your elbows and kicking him away, crawling like a dying animal away from him. "PETER!" You sobbed sharply before losing consciousness.

But nothing worked, resisting only made all that shit worse and now you were tied up, in Your boyfriend's old clothes.

You barely remember how you got to that place, or if time passed, anyway that doesn't matter anymore, from one day to the next you find a very small piece of clothing that turned out to be yours, time passed, your body grew but your mind didn't, they keep lying but you know that your life will depend on how well you do it.

And you're not doing it right, you tried to adopt toxic happiness but you couldn't even maintain it for a while before exploding, sadness was already an everyday thing and you just weren't feeling it anymore.

"Dear?"

Just peace please, how hard could that be? It was annoying, you even felt angry for feeling so empty, because people were so rude and the constant rejection killed you socially.

It was hard to breathe, wasn't it?

"Love? Do you hear me?"

It feels like the end, your soul is bleeding, you wish your stupid job made you feel a little more alive and motivated to continue.

And now you have done so many things to escape from that monster that pulls you back to the room to devour you under the bed.

"Darling!" Your boyfriend's voice echoed through the room, making you look at him once and for all, your eyes tired despite having been unconscious most of the time.

"…" You wanted to respond, really, but what were you supposed to say?

"You must be exhausted, you didn't even touch dinner" It was a tricky phrase, he had tried to feed you since you were tied up.

"Peter-…"

"I already told you that I prefer to be called other way, honey" He responded with a smile and a definitely not irritated tone.

"I want to sleep" He left your lips, he was being so caring, taking care of your health.

He kidnapped you.

And you couldn't even thank him for it.

He knocked you out.

You really were an ungrateful shit, weren't you?

He locked you up.

You wanted to return the signs of affection.

Soon the ropes left your body, Peter helped you stand up and you both walked to the bedroom, he was still carrying a small plate with a light dinner, he refused to let you go to bed without having eaten dinner.

Once in bed, he made sure that you had a proper dinner, and he helped you change your clothes so that you would be comfortable in bed, he also did the same with his attire and now you were both lying down. It always made your stomach churn when he looked at your half-naked body.

"Dear" He murmured next to you while you tried to sleep as soon as possible, so many things had happened those last few days that the only way out was to sleep, you had probably already been fired from your job for not showing up. "Honey, love, darling," he said sweetly as his hand went up to your cheek, he simply looked at you with a huge and probably painful smile on his face, almost tattooed, you made him so happy with your mere presence.

"Can I kiss you?" He asked, your mind still cloudy enough to refuse anything, so you just went up to kiss him, the room was very dark and there weren't even crickets echoing at night, the amount of silence was overwhelming… of course, that didn't count the lip-smacking they shared.

So it continued.

For a long time.

"Pet-…uhm, I mean, honey, I'm tired and I want to sleep" You interrupted the honey session.

"Please, you don't have to do anything, just let me love you, darling" his voice was soft, soothing to that darkness but not to the painful weight in your heart and the knot in your stomach, his touches felt strange.

You know that's wrong, you don't like it.

You didn't stop him, just like he said, you let him love you as you closed your eyes and a buzzing sound echoed in your head, like television static, your bottom clothes had disappeared, but that didn't matter.

You couldn't hear anything, you didn't see anything, your body reacted but your mind was very far from that place, you wandered through your memories, fantasies of a life you were never going to have.

It was really digging into your cunt, huh? Even when your mind wanted to flee somewhere else, it was undeniable how he held your thighs and you gasped heavily with each thrust.

His member was still dripping his seed, did he use protection? You don't know, you don't care.

It doesn't matter.

B e cau se s oon y o u w il l b e d ea d.

"Honey? Didn't you enjoy it?" Peter asked with a worried frown.

What the hell is wrong with you? Do you no longer have respect for yourself? You know it's going to hurt you.

Don't you mind dying? You lost hope and you don't even try to help yourself anymore, damned and pathetic attempt at being human, really unnecessary.

"Honey…" Peter caressed your cheeks and brought his forehead to yours, sighing softly and carrying your body to the bathroom in the room.

You didn't say anything either, you just felt how it was cleaning your body, the water was warm, the bathtub full of bubbles, and it smelled pretty good, like coconut soap. Peter hummed quietly as he treated your body with the utmost affection, you were sure he was whispering things in your ear but you were barely aware of your surroundings.

When your eyes finally focused on something you could see the ceiling of the room thanks to the moonlight, Peter was behind you, hugging your body, caressing your hair, and sniffing the soapy fragrance.

"You are so sweet, so unique, so kind, so special to me, a truly exceptional person, I will do everything to make you feel comfortable, darling, I love you so much, my adorable-…"

"Peter"

"… Yes love?" This time he didn't argue about that name, you were finally talking and that was good.

"I'm sorry I feel so alone, I know you're here but…" You wish you could give him an answer but that was something even you hadn't figured out yet.

"It's okay, honey, I'll be with you to hold you, forever."

♡

[luveline]

if you felt comfortable would you write the KBU au with steve and reader during/just after the birth of avery? 🥺

kisses before dinner —you and steve have a baby. mom!reader, 1.1k

Just like that, Steve's a dad. 

He wonders if he's supposed to feel different, and he does in little ways. Exhausted, worried, and unbearably happy —the kind of happiness to make your ribs hurt— Steve is feeling a hundred layers of emotion right now, but it isn't his emotion that takes centre stage, it's yours. 

You've been stiff with panic since your contractions started, and while that panic turned to happy tears the moment they laid her on your chest, you're looking at the baby like you're terrified of her, stiffness returned. Genuine fear. 

"Come on," he says softly, leaning down to kiss your forehead. "She's not half as ugly as we worried."

She's beautiful. Steve's legs hurt after all these hours of standing by your side, and he can't bear to look away from the baby's face, her face, and it doesn't matter. You're his priority. He juggles these two things as he assumes he'll be juggling them for the rest of his life, happily if clumsily. 

"Please smile, honey," he says. 

You relax almost imperceptibly with his murmuring. "I am smiling." 

"You're grimacing. Ten dollar word." He crouches and steps back enough for you to see his face clearly. "Are you happy? Like, truthfully?" he asks, knowing 'truthfully' isn't a word he says. Accusing the new mother of his child of lying feels a bit dick-ish, though.

"Of course I'm happy." 

"It's okay if you're not happy. I'm not happy if you're not happy, I'm–" 

"Steve." Your smile is sad in a way, but your eyes aren't half as scared as they were. "I am happy, I'm just worried. No more trial run… I'm a mom." 

"You're a mom." He doesn't mean to say it with the world's cheesiest smile. "I didn't know they made 'em like you, I would've started chasing moms years ago." 

You laugh. He's always loved your laugh because it's yours, and it couldn't come at a better time, not even when you were pushing. None of them sounded as happy as this one. "I'm a mom," you say, still laughing. 

"I know." He leans in to dash a kiss against your cheek. You perk up at the attention, so he does it twice more. 

“This is gonna be so fun,” you say. 

His heart rears to explode. Steve puts one hand on yours under the weight of the baby and the other behind your shoulder. “Just don't let me drop her,” you say.

“My hand’s already there.” 

“Okay. I love you. Are you sure?” 

“Don't freak out.” He thinks so many things in that moment but the loudest is, aw, my girl. “You're good, babe, I love you. This is gonna be fun, just like you said. We're gonna love it.” 

Steve sits on the side of the bed and holds you like that for a while. You relax at the support and watch the baby's little face in sleep. She has the most dainty face Steve has ever seen in person. She's so, so small. He kinda thought she'd be bigger considering the whole nine month gestation period and all your aches and pains, but she's perfect. He could fit her in two hands. 

“Avery,” you say. 

You picked it out together ages ago. Seeing her now cements it. “Avery,” he repeats happily, failing to resist the urge to touch her face again. 

You need time to recover and thankfully, the nurses and doctors haven't rushed the process. You're clean but in pain, and Steve gets to hold the baby by himself while you change. 

“Can I help?” he asks, watching you wince. You barely want to stand. 

“No, just hold her.” 

“She won't break if we put her down. She's safer in the bassinet anyways,” he says. 

Your eyes spark with panic as he goes to stand, so he sits, and he chews his cheek raw while you struggle into fresh clothes. 

A knock on the door startles you both. “Hello? Y/N? Steve?” Robin's scratchy voice echoes through the door. Her excitement is unmissable. 

“Yeah, Rob!” 

She opens the door carefully but enters the room less so. There's so much stuff hanging from the crooks of her elbows she can hardly carry it. “Hey! Oh my god, hey! Is that her? Of course it's her. Is she okay? She's okay, are you okay?” She turns her gaze on you. “Holy shit, do you need help?” 

You've only got a couple of buttons to do and the waistband of your pants to cinch, but Robin immediately drops all of her things to help you finish. 

Steve shares his first private smile with his very first daughter. “She's not always like this,” he murmurs. 

“How are you feeling?” Robin asks. She sounds treacherously concerned and overwhelmingly happy. 

“Maybe she is,” he adds. 

“I'm okay, Robin,” you say, reaching for her hand. “It hurts worse than people say. But it's over now.” 

“Thank Jesus!” Robin finishes her buttoning and ties a deft bow with your drawstrings. “Come on, mom, let's get you back to bed. Jesus, Steve, you couldn't have helped her?” She's mostly kidding. 

Steve lifts Avery. “She put me on baby duty.” 

Robin almost trips over her bags trying to get to him. “Steve,” she says, as though this one word should be enough for him, planting herself by his side. It's been a long time since he bothered trying to put boundaries between them, he doesn't even want them, he's proud as he can be as he lowers the baby to give his best friend ample view of her. While she looks, he lifts his gaze to you where you limp back to the bed. 

“Oh,” he says, “Rob, are you ready to hold her? Meet your niece. Arms out.” 

Robin stammers but holds her arms out. Steve transfers Avery in her swaddle carefully as careful can be. “Hold her head, okay? Lean back.” 

“Wait, you made this look easy. Steve–” 

Your eyes are wide as he stands and turns away from the bed. “Steve,” you say. 

“No more saying my name in this room, it's banned,” he says, putting his hands under your arms to make sure you're steady where you stand. You stop walking, pain in the line of your mouth. “Come on, honey. Let's get you back to bed.” 

Your eyes shine with tears, but you don't cry. You use his arms to push back up onto the bed and shuffle slowly into position before you put your arms out. He leans in for a hug. 

“Oh, Steve,” you say with a laugh, all soft and warm, having found the only exception to his new rule, “I wanted the baby back, honey.” 

“I know,” he sighs. 

[littleblackraincloudofcourse]

My thoughts on the lives and deaths of the House of Usher

Prospero - I almost feel sorry for Perry. His ideas weren't bad and unlike his siblings he was doing them himself. I also found it hilarious when he tried to fuck his brother wife. If nothing else that kid had confidence. Fredrick was dick to both of them anyway and she deserved to have fun. If you remove the blackmail and acid rain and that would have been one hell of a party.If Perry hadn't been planning to blackmail everyone he wouldn't have deserved his death. But his death was EXQUISITE. Everything about that scene was so perfect I can't find words to describe it. Everyone involved in creating that scene deserves an award

Camille - We actually got to know very little about her. Her whole story was about finding dirty on the others and managing crisis for the family. Even her death isn't shown. I think the point was that she never got to just be. She lived and died for others but never connected with anyone.

Napoleon - Leo was to me the closest to likable of any of the siblings. He clearly loved them and that may have been the only love he way capable of. He certainly didn't love his boyfriend or anyone he had/was having sex with. He treated people like objects. His death is tricky to categorize. On one side what he did to Pluto was horrifying and anyone who treats animals that way deserves the same fate. But he never actually did any of those things. It was all hallucinations and illusions first from drugs then Verna. He was stressed and grieving and kept finding dead animals everywhere. I would be ready to smash walls in that situation too. He definitely didn't need to be a pet owner but I think his death should have been less torturous

Victorine - I wrote this one last because it was my favorite Poe story growing up and she played it beautifully. That slow steady decent into madness I should have hated this character most of all. Those poor chimps and who knows what other innocent creatures she killed with experiments she knew wouldn't work. Even with her father constantly pushing for progress she should have stopped. Verna gave her so many chances, she wasn't even there when Vic killed her girlfriend or herself. She could have stopped at any point. Yes she still would have died but it could have been painless and less tragic. T'Nia Miller's performance was so good that I actually felt sad for her in that final scene. At least until I thought of the chimps again.

Tamerlane - Knock off Madeleine. Where her sisters hid and guarded their personalities she never had one. Her entire existence was for appearances (hence the ridiculous amount of mirrors). Even when she tries to show emotion she couldn't look at the person she was talking to. Her death might have seemed the most passive but it was shoot beautifully. It was also the only thing she actively accomplished on her own.

Fredrick - Fuck you Frodrick. When his siblings said he was just like their father they didn't even realize how right they were. He might have been worse. His poor wife deserved so much better. I genuinely enjoyed watching the pendulum swinging towards him as he was paralyzed beneath it. I only wish there was more than one so he could feel more pain. He was so much a piece of shit Verna enjoyed killing him. Everyone else got warnings, chances to walk away and have peaceful deaths But this asshole, she knew he didn't deserve one. He got exactly what he deserved. Lying in a puddle of his own piss waiting to die. Seriously fuck that guy

Lenore - This sweet brave girl was the only good the Ushers ever brought into the world. So pure and good even Verna mourned having to take her. I loved that she got to know how much good she put into the world and how many lives she saved. Even knowing from the beginning she would die, it was still heartbreaking to see. At least it was painless and instant

Madeleine - She was cold and selfish but she was also usually right. I respect that even when making a deal with the devil she still had standards. She at least made sure not to have children incase. There is a bit of irony in the fact she didn't want to spend her life serving a man then chaining her destiny to her brother. Gave of serious twincest vibes that I am glad where not explored. Her death seemed a fair balance for her past and mirroring her mother's death brought everything full circle. She fell with the house of Usher. Also sapphire is a good color for her.

Roderick - Without doubt the worst of them all. He knowingly killed millions with his drug. He destroyed any shred of humanity in his children. Possibly worst of all, he knew the damage he was causing and who would have to pay for it but he didn't even blink. Being mentally tortured by his dead children was not enough. He deserved the worst death of all. I understand the poetry of him dying the same way his father did but I wish he suffered more.

[aestherin]

privacy

37: it's all yours

NOTE a gift from me 🤍 a long chapter. thank you for waiting!! 🤍

This is surely a nightmare.

You swore you could cry from the sheer feeling of dread alone.

'What the actual fuck is this? Why are we here? Hello? What is this? This is surely the wrong stop. I wanna scream. Why here oh my god?'

Even though you were still inside your manager's car, it was visible how gray the skies were. Rain wasn't present, at least not yet, but the clouds looked so heavy, as if they were carrying a heavy burden.

They looked just about ready to burst.

You found it laughable, how even the heavens above seemed to reflect how you were feeling.

Your manager took the liberty of opening your car door for you, mainly because you were taking too long. "Get off."

You looked up at her, holding tightly to your seatbelt and refusing to let go.

"I don't wanna get out."

"Why are we here in this haunting place anyway?" You forced a smile, which she returned with a suspicious one. "I told you, didn't I? The CEO of Cypressus wants to meet you."

"Here?"

"Why else would we be here?" She questioned back, now also removing your seatbelt for you. "If you don't get out, we would be late for our appointment. That's not a good impression to make for a VIP, [Name]."

"Why are we meeting at Ayato's family house?" You cried out.

"Oh, this is his house? I didn't know. I just followed the address their CEO gave me."

This is eerie. Something about this is not right. Why —

"Stop thinking. Clear your mind, we have someone to meet."

The immense friction between the ground and your shoes (caused by your manager literally dragging you) can be heard, aside from you and your companion's quick banters. Well, it was actually mostly you crying out questions and her attempting to make you shut up.

Going through the short path on the way to the estate's gate, you noticed that barely anything has changed. As expected, their residence was well-maintained. Given the amount of staff and resources they have, it would be even weirder if they did not manage to keep the estate in its pristine state.

The only difference between your previous visit and now?

No personnel of the Kamisato clan is on sight.

Perhaps they are all inside? Or all of them have day offs today? Or maybe they all decided to file a leave on the very same day? Maybe the CEO of that famous bubble tea shop rented out the whole place to meet you? Wait, is a family residence even available for rent —

"We're here," your manager stated as both of you arrived at the gate.

"I really don't wanna do this."

"You're just gonna talk."

"'You're'? You mean me? Not 'we'? Are you leaving me alone?" You were on the verge of crying. It wasn't that you were sad. It was out of nervousness. Thank Celestia that no matter what heavy emotion you feel, you tend to cry.

Sad? Crying. Anxious? Sobbing. Angry? In tears.

Amidst your internal chaos, your beloved manager simply shrugged. "He requested to talk to you personally, not me."

"And you obliged?"

"It's for your own good."

"You sound like my mother."

"You think I don't notice that you're stalling?" she eyed you. You then felt both hands on your shoulder, forcing you to face the estate that brought you so many memories all at once. A little push, and voila!

You're all alone now.

It was not until you heard the heavy sound of the gate shutting that you turned around. "What the fuck?! Manager?!"

"Best wishes!" She yelled from the other side. Best wishes? Really? It's not like she's sending me off to get married, right?

... Right?

You stayed as still as a stone for a few minutes. Was this place really deserted? And where the heck is Cypressus' CEO? Is he inside? Should you go inside? Do you even dare to enter?

You gave your wristwatch a glance and realized you're already a few minutes late beyond call time. Maybe you really should stop wasting time outside and go in.

You were only able to take a few steps along the stoned path before you heard the main door creak.

It was a sound that could be heard anywhere, and yet... this specific noise, in this very place... it made your heart drop.

What you saw was even worse.

You could've died.

Out came a tall, fine man in an all white outfit consisting of a simple button-down and slacks, still oh so refined as ever.

How many days has it been? Or maybe even weeks, since you last saw each other?

Your heart was confused.

Those enchanting lavender eyes of his remained on you. They were magnetic, yet repelling all the same. Magnetic in a sense that you want nothing to do but just run straight into his arms, because you missed him so damn much. Repelling, because at the same time, you also want to run away for fear of confrontation.

Fear of falling even deeper.

Fear of falling into the depths, until no return.

Your lips slightly parted. It was hard to breathe — this instance, this atmosphere, his presence. It was too much. Too much for your little brittle heart to handle.

"[Name]," he uttered.

Fuck. And now you heard his voice? You were surely on the road to damnation.

Meanwhile, you weren't aware, but the man in front of you was likewise, dying. Dying to get close, dying to touch you, hug you, kiss you.

Dying to be with you, again.

Ayato silently rejoiced that you did not run away immediately at the sight of him. He feared that once you saw him, you would instantly go away, far and out of his reach. Thank the archons she stayed.

As he made his way towards you, you stayed still. You didn't even know how you managed to keep the eye contact with him. And then you notice.

He is a remarkable actor, but you've seen his genuine smile plenty enough to know that everything he's outright expressing is feigned. His lips may display a slight curve, but his eyes... They never lie. In them were weariness, sadness... longing.

Ayato now stood directly in front of you. "Hey," his voice cracked. "I missed you."

"Hi," you forced out a smile too.

It was a long time of looking at each other in silence, with faux smiles plastered on. No one dared to make a noise, nor an action.

Until Ayato couldn't take it anymore and pulled you into a tight hug.

His head sunk on your shoulders. You could feel all of his weight on you, as if he was deliberately sharing with you how exhausted he was from everything. How spent he was, and how your appearance at his house today was his only saving grace in a long time.

You froze.

You felt him shift slightly — no, he was shaking.

"Love," desperation was evident in his voice. "I —"

Ayato couldn't even talk. The composure he tried so hard to muster while waiting for you crumbled, just like that. One glimpse of you, and he broke. Are you now thinking how pathetic he is? Do you despise him now? Of course you do. Why wouldn't —

He felt your fingers caress his hair.

A simple gesture. Yet when it was combined with so much pining, sorrow, and despair... he couldn't stop himself anymore from sobbing in your embrace.

His last attempt at faking collectedness was hiding himself even further into the crook of your neck.

"Why are you crying?" You spoke softly. "I should be the one doing that," you joked.

"I know." Ayato's voice was muffled. Despite the situation, you can't help thinking how cute he was like this. Of course, you definitely prefer him being his usual cool self over him being a broken mess.

But it was a wonder, getting to see him like this, and getting to experience a new side of him.

The two of you stayed like that for a while: him trying to hide his crying in your shoulder (although his faint noises ratted him out) and you continuing to run your fingers through the tufts of his hair.

It wasn't awkward at all, contrary to what one would expect. Rather, it was warm and comfortable, not until he pulled himself away.

Your eyes travelled down, together with him.

"I'm sorry," his voice was low as he looked up at you. Kamisato Ayato, the renowned celebrity, the man with sharp lavender eyes, the scheming man that you've grown to love, the man that you would put above everything, even yourself, just fell to his knees. Groveling. Pleading. Begging.

But what exactly was he sorry for? Weren't you the one who owes an apology? After all, you were the one who suddenly announced that you two 'broke up' — as if there was even really something going on — without even waiting a response from him.

Then you ghosted everyone.

So really, what was your darling actor sorry for?

He held your hands, eyes still on you. "For everything, love. For dragging you into this whole mess. For being an asshole. For being such a stupid fuck."

Ayato breathed.

"For being a damned coward who is afraid of rejection and can't even express his feelings genuinely that he urged you into entering a faking relationship with himself just so he can experience having one with you."

What?

"So please," he leaned his forehead against your thigh, now looking down. "Forgive me and let me fix everything."

"Ayato —"

"Let me fix everything, with me by your side. With us, together."

With that, he was forced to look up as you pulled him. Ayato was still holding your hand even after the change in position, refusing to let you go.

"Ayato." This time, it's you whose voice wavers. "We can't. You know we can't. At least I can't."

"[Name]," he whined. "Love, please."

You took in his appearance. He looked like a mess, everything about him was. His disheveled hair, his teary eyes, his inconsistent breathing.

And yet, you still found him flawless.

"You don't have to forgive me right away. Fuck, you can even torment me. I just want us to be like before, maybe even better," Ayato beseeched.

"I can't believe you still want me," you forced a laugh. "I left you. Announced a break up. I fucking ignored you. All without notice."

"And I deserved all of it."

"No you didn't! You treated me so, so right," tears were now seeping. "You were everything I could ever ask for, love. And what was I to you in return?"

You sobbed.

You hated how memories of everything flashed in your mind.

How he was the perfect fucking lover despite everything being fake, how he never slighted you at the very least, how unfair you were to him sometimes (most times), how he would do just about anything you want, how you kept steering away from him without a word, how unreasonable you were after seeing a single fucking tweet online.

How you left him hanging.

"I was someone who was swayed easily! I was unfair. I kept doubting you, even if I didn't have the right to. You were perfect, I was flawed. You —"

"I wasn't perfect. I know that. Because if I was, you wouldn't have to suffer like how you've been," Ayato frowned. He knew he was the one to blame, and yet... why were you blaming only yourself?

He does not like it when you talk that way about yourself. If you could see yourself through his eyes, he wonders, would you still look at yourself as someone so low and unworthy? He attempts to change the topic subtly. "We're both human. We aren't flawless. A perfect fucking match, [Name]. So why don't we just be with each other —"

"— but I hurt you!"

"And I don't give a fuck." He breathes. "Heck, I would even let you do it again — infinite times more if you wish. Pain me. Hurt me. Break my heart all you want — it's all yours, love."

"But for God's sake, [Name]... please don't leave me."

privacy — ayato x reader smau

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[scoonsalicious]

Unwanted: Chapter 7, Unburdened - Pt. 1

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Fem!Reader

Summary: When your FWB relationship with your best friend Bucky Barnes turns into something more, you couldn’t be happier. That is, however, until a new Avenger sets her sights on your super soldier and he inadvertently breaks your heart. You take on a mission you might not be prepared for to put some distance between the two of you and open yourself up to past traumas. Too bad the only one who can help you heal is the one person you can no longer trust.

Warnings: (For this part only; see Story Masterlist for general Warnings) Language, brutal honesty, mentions of some sexy stuff, but no actual sex-on-page, mention of m masturbation,

Word Count: 3k

Previously On...: Bucky spent the entire evening at Jade Carthage's side, and when he calls her "doll," you had enough and stormed off. The two of you have the very first argument of your friendship, and now Bucky says you need to talk...

A/N: I had a very shitty and emotionally draining evening yesterday, so I didn't get any writing done, unfortunately. But I need to make myself feel better somehow, so let's post Chapter 7! I think many of you will agree with me when I say "Fucking finally!" to what transpires here! Alas, though, there are plenty of emotional ups and downs still to come, because that's just life, isn't it?

Also, I finally watched Lisa Frankenstein to cheer myself up last night. What a delightfully messed up, fun, campy romp that was! Highly recommend if you haven't already!

Banner By: The absolutely amazing @mrsbuckybarnes1917

Taglist: (Please let me know if you’d like to be added!) @jmeelee @cazellen @blackhawkfanatic @les-sel @marcswife21 @buckybarnessimpp @mrsbuckybarnes1917 @erelierraceala @hayjat @capswife @itsteambarnes @jupiter-107 @marygoddessofmischief @sebastians-love @learisa @lethallyprotected @rabbitrabbit12321

The silence in your room felt deafening as you closed the door behind Bucky. For the very first time in your friendship, it felt awkward having him in your space, and you could tell he felt it, too. You crossed over to your sitting area and sat in one of your arm chairs, curling up into yourself. Bucky sat in the chair opposite you, leaning his elbows on his thighs to support his weight. The two of you just stared into space for a long moment, avoiding the other's gaze.

"You wanted to talk," you said eventually, "so talk."

Bucky looked up to meet your eyes, and you could see the sadness and defeat in them. "I'm sorry, Pocket. You're right, I've been an ass all night. I didn't do it with the intention to hurt you, but I hurt you anyway because I wasn't thinking about how my actions would affect you, and that's almost worse. I'm sorry."

You exhaled and looked away from him, afraid that if you held his gaze for too long, you wouldn't be able to stop the tears that would certainly come. "Listen, Buck," you said, swallowing hard, "if you're interested in pursuing something with Jade, that's... well, it's your life, you're free to date whoever you want. We never put any labels or rules on whatever this thing between us is, so I know I don't have any right to be jealous, but watching you flirt so openly with her right in front of me, like I didn't even exist? I can't begin to explain to you how worthless and small that made me feel. So, if you think you want to try for something with her, you have to let me know so I can try to move on, because I can't sit around and watch it happen. It's too painful."

When you looked back over at him, Bucky had gotten up and was now kneeling on the floor in front of you, practically beaming as he took you in.

"Why are you smiling like a lunatic?" you asked, an edge of concern in your voice. "You're creeping me out."

"Pocket," he murmured, cupping your face in his hands as he pressed a soft kiss to your forehead. For a moment, you considered pulling away, but the feel of his lips on your skin was such a comfort, you stayed still. "My absolute one and only doll, you've got it all wrong. I let you get the wrong idea and stew with it and I am so, so sorry."

You did pull away at that. "What are you talking about? How do I have the wrong idea?"

Bucky leaned back until he was resting on his heels. "I am interested in Jade, that's true." He took your hands in his as you felt your heart drop into your stomach. "But not in the way you think." He brought your hands to his lips and began placing kisses across your knuckles. "Doll, there's only been one girl I've been interested in pursuing something with in the last seventy-five years, and I'm sitting across from her right now."

You shook your head, sure you had misheard him. "I don't understand."

He chuckled and looked up at you through his lashes, the sight so beautiful, your breath caught in your chest. "Pocket, I have been crazy about you since the moment you made that god-awful 'unarmed' joke. At first I thought a girl as pretty as you, as smart as you, as good as you, you'd never give a guy like me, even without my history, a second look, and I'd be content to just watch you from the sidelines, you know? Watch you be beautiful and bright and I'd be happy my world was a better place just because you were in it.

"But you went outta your way to be nice to me. You talked Tolkien with me, you wanted to spend time with me, you wanted to be my friend, and I thought 'This is already more than you deserve, it's more than enough.' Then, when I had my nightmare, you didn't run away. You stayed. You stayed, and you understood, you let me hold you, and I-I was a goner for you. And that night...," he groaned at the memory, "God, that night you kissed me back, and you let me touch you, in all the ways I dreamed of touching you, all the ways I'd imagined touching you while I fucked my fist for practically a year, and I knew I wasn't going to be able to give you up after that.

"You'd told me about your past, how you were scared of relationships but, sweetheart, I was so greedy, I'd take any part of you you were willing to give me, your friendship, your body, even if it wasn't ever gonna be your heart. I'd take any crumb you offered me, and I'd be grateful for it."

You blinked your eyes repeatedly, dazed by his confession and unable to articulate words. Bucky's face fell as your silence stretched on.

"You don't feel the same way," he said, voice low as he stood up. "I'm sorry-- I-I shouldn't have dumped all of that on you. I'll go--." He turned and made steps toward your door, but you jumped up, reaching out to grab his arm.

"Bucky, wait," you turned him back to face you and brought your lips crashing to his with such intensity that he stumbled backwards a few steps before wrapping his arms around you to kiss you back.

"I love you," you gasped when you broke apart for air, breathing out a laugh when his eyes widened comically in shock. "I'm so fucking in love with you that it terrifies me, because it's an entirely brand new experience and I don't know how to do it. I'm so worried that I'm going to fuck it up and scare you away, or that you're gonna realize I'm not worth it and I don't even know how to live without you anymore."

Bucky held your face between his hands. "Are you serious right now?" he asked, eyes searching yours for any trace of deception. "You're not fucking with me?"

You shook your head emphatically, bringing your hands up to cover his. "No, no, I'm completely serious. I love you, James Buchanan Barnes." You laughed; the more you said the words, the more you realized how entirely true they were. "I love you and I've been so insanely jealous all night because I thought you were interested in her."

Bucky looked down at you with the brightest smile, like the sun shining after a storm, before pulling you toward him so he could kiss you again. You hadn't even realized you'd started to cry until, after Bucky had pulled away, he was brushing the tears from your cheeks.

"I love you, Pocket," he whispered as he began peppering kisses across your face. "I love you and I'm so sorry for everything I did tonight that would make you doubt that you're the most important person in my life and the best thing to ever happen to me."

The reminder of his earlier actions drew you out of the emotional haze his declaration had put you in. "Wait," you said, pulling back and putting some distance between the two of you, "if you've been in love with me this whole time, how come you've been weird about Jade ever since you saw her profile in those folders Tony gave us?" Bucky ran a hand down his face and sighed. Taking your hand, he led you back to the armchair you'd previously vacated and sat, pulling you down to sit on his lap and wrapping his arms around you.

"I told you that I am interested in Jade," he began, but when he felt you tense beneath him, he quickly continued, "but I'm not interested in dating her, or sleeping with her. You're the only girl who's got my attention in those departments." He paused to nuzzle at the junction of your neck and shoulder and you took the opportunity to run your fingers through his hair.

"Go on," you gently urged him.

"I'm interested in getting to know Jade, in talking to her, because she's... well, she's like me, you know? She's got the serum, and I don't know anyone else who's got it that's still alive."

You put a finger on his chin, tilting his face up to meet yours. "But, Steve," you said, somewhat confused, "he's got the serum, too, and you talk to him all the time."

Bucky sighed and shook his head. "Steve's got Erskine's serum," he told you. "The one made by the U.S. Government. The one that they-- that Hydra-- used on me, it was similar, but not the same."

"It's the same one that was used on Jade," you said, understanding dawning on you.

Bucky nodded. "Not exact, but what's running through her veins evolved from what's runnin' through mine. And they never put her through cryo, she's never been wiped. She was conscious through everything they put her through, all the experiments, the tests... I was excited to think that there was someone I could talk to about it, who understood. Someone who could maybe help me fill in some of the blanks I still have. Answer the questions I've been too ashamed to ask Steve."

"Oh, Buck," you hummed, running your nails gently across his scalp, "Baby, why didn't you ever say anything?"

He arched into your touch. "Because you've already had to put up with enough of my shit," he said. "I didn't want to burden you with any more of it."

You stopped your scratching ministrations and looked at him. "Now listen here, Barnes," you began, your tone serious, "the last thing you could ever be to me is a burden. I have never met anyone who was funnier, kinder, braver, more selfless or caring than you. You're a fucking gift, Bucky. One that I am endlessly grateful for, everyday."

Bucky groaned. "Pocket, you can't just say things like that while you're sitting on my lap. I try to be a gentleman, but I've got my limits."

You laughed and leaned into him, resting your head against him. You picked up his right hand and began tracing his fingers with your own.

"If me talkin' to Jade makes you any kind of uncomfortable, doll, I promise I'll never speak to, or even look at, her again." He caught your eye and you could see the seriousness of his statement in them. You leaned in to press a chaste kiss to his lips.

"I'm never going to tell you who you can't be friends with, Buck," you told him with a sigh. "I admit that I don't love the idea of you spending one-on-one time with her alone or anything, but I'm also not going to stand in the way of you getting answers you need about your past. But you tell me the second she tries something," you warned. "Super soldier or not, she comes for my man, I'm gonna kick her fucking ass."

"You've got nothin' to worry about, darlin'. I told you, in seventy-five years, it's only been you. Seventy-five years more, it's still always only ever be you." His words made your heart swell in your chest and you leaned in to kiss him again. "Mm, but say that again," he told you.

"The part where I'm gonna kick her ass?" you asked with a smirk.

"No," he said, nipping at the sensitive skin at the pulse point on your neck, "the part where you called me your man."

You shifted so you could wrap your arms around his neck, toying with the soft hairs at the nape. You leaned in close so you could whisper in his ear: "You're my man, Bucky Barnes." A full shiver went through Bucky's body at your words and you relished in the effect you had over him. He ran his vibranium hand up under the back of your shirt, tracing gentle circles on the skin of your lower back.

"And you're always gonna be my girl, Pocket." His flesh hand came up to brush a strand of hair behind your ear, the motion, combined with his words, so tender your breath hitched.

Something seemed to shift in that moment, the air growing thick and heady between you, as if you were both just realizing the new depth of your relationship for the first time.

"Bucky," you breathed, voice barely a whisper, eyes pleading.

He nodded and, placing one hand at the small of your back and the other under your knees and scooping you up as he stood. With the utmost care, he laid you down on the mattress of your bed and rested his body over yours, careful not to put too much of his weight on top of you.

"This feels different," he said as brushed your hair away from your face.

"Good different or bad different?" you asked, bringing your hands up to cup his face, the stubble scratching your palms.

"The very best different." He leaned down, bringing his lips to yours. The kiss was unlike any you'd shared before-- sweeter, more languid, as though you'd been forced to rush every previous kiss and you were both finally allowed to take your time. Bucky tasted like smoked whiskey as his tongue made leisurely sweeps across your mouth, eliciting a moan from you when he sucked on your bottom lip.

You could feel your arousal pooling between your thighs as you kissed, Bucky's flesh hand roaming up the soft skin of your side. He shifted, pressing more of his weight against you, as if he were desperate to be closer, and you could feel the hard press of his erection against your thigh.

You rocked your hips up against his pelvis, drawing a guttural moan from Bucky's throat. He pulled back, drawing himself up on his haunches. His fingers found their way to the hem of your shirt, teasing the edges as he looked up at you, silently asking you for permission. You nodded, sitting up and raising your hands over your head so he could slide your shirt off. As soon as it was free of your arms, Bucky tossed it aside and brought his lips to your shoulder, kissing his way across your collarbone.

Reaching down, you grabbed the hem of his Henley, slowly rolling it up over his abdomen, placing soft kisses on the hard lines of muscles it revealed. Once you'd fully divested him of his shirt, you let your hands roam the broad expanse of his chest, your lips and tongue trailing open-mouthed kisses across the raised pink scars at his mangled shoulder.

"You don't have to," he said, subtly pulling his shoulder back.

"Shush." You pulled him closer, continuing to kiss his puckered flesh. "I love every inch of you, Bucky. You're beautiful."

He pulled away from you, blue eyes boring into yours like he couldn't believe what he was seeing in front of him.

"How are you even real?" he asked, bringing your lips to his once again, his kisses growing more desperate. "I swear to God, Pocket, 'm gonna take you out, date you so fuckin' hard. Be the best goddamned boyfriend you've ever had."

He wanted to be your boyfriend. Not long ago, those words might have terrified you, but now, with the emotions you'd finally both let yourselves express, they thrilled you.

"You gonna take me to brunch, Barnes?" you teased, nipping at his skin as you rolled your hips up into his, your words coming out in gasps between the mewls of pleasure he was drawing from you. "We goin' to the farmer's market? Fuck--- Spend weekends at bed-n-breakfasts in Vermont?"

Bucky growled as he ground his hips down into yours, the length of his erection pressing down against your clothed clit and making you moan. "Sweetheart, I'll do anything you want. You wanna ride around the city on one of those tandem bicycles?" A dragging of his hips that had you arching your back. "I'm here for it. You wanna share a bowl of spaghetti like those dogs in that movie? I'm your man."

"Baby, I would never make you get on a tandem bike," you gasped, faux scandalized at the suggestion. "A swan paddle boat, maybe, but never a tandem bike. I respect you too much for that."

Bucky laughed as he buried into the crook of your neck. "I'd do it for you, anyway."

"That's the most romantic thing anyone's ever said to me," you told him with a smile.

"Oh, baby," he moaned, licking a stripe along the side of your neck that had you shivering, "We gotta fix that. I'm gonna romance the absolute shit out of you." He moved his mouth, placing kisses down your collar bone, between the valley of your breasts, and down your stomach. You bit your lip as his hands reached the waistband of your pants, his eyes looking up to meet yours as he slowly, so agonizingly slowly, began unbuttoning them.

"Ms. (Y/L/N), Sgt. Barnes," FRIDAY's voice echoed across the room. Bucky groaned and dropped his head on your pelvis at the interruption. "Mr. Stark requests your immediate return to the common room."

It was your turn to groan now as you threw your head back onto the pillow. "How much trouble do you think we'll be in if we just ignore it?" you asked him, reaching down to card your fingers through his hair.

He chuckled as he leaned over to pick up your discarded shirts from the floor. "We don't go, he's libel to come barging in, and I don't know about you, but I'm not keen on Stark getting a load of my bare ass as I'm plowing balls-deep into his favorite little protégé," he said, winking at you as he pulled his Henley back over his head.

"Ew," you laughed, "everyone knows Parker's Tony's favorite little protégé these days. Thank you for that mental image."

Bucky shot you a sardonic look. "Arms, smartass," he said, indicating for you to lift your arms above your head so he could put your shirt back on you. "You got some mouth on you. I ever tell you how much I love it?"

<- Previous Chapter / Next Part ->

[vallanoux]

Valentines with the one and only King of Hell Himself, Lucifer!

warnings: tooth rotting fluff.

"the love letter"

To the one I love (yes you!),

Can I just start off with saying how much I love you? Because I love you so, so very much! You do so, so many things for me that I feel as if I can never say "thank you" enough––or most certainly, I can never say "i love you" enough.

But you know what? I'll take any opportunity I can to show you just how much I love and appreciate you, and guess what?!! Valentines is the perfect way to do that!

I hope you can leave Saturday afternoon till evening open for me because I most certainly have plans for us. Just so you know what to expect (and to prove to you that I'm capable of not going overboard like last year-), here's the schedule, okay?

watch a cute lil' movie at pentagram city's one and only theater

dinner at your favorite place

and whatever comes after...? ;>

Sounds good?

And, just so you know, if I haven't made it clear enough, I love you, (name).

More than anything.

More than you'll ever know.

From your most beloved "short king",

Lucifer "Lulu" Morningstar

PS: I'll pick you up at 15:30!

PSS: I left some outfits in a basket along with the letter so we can match for the day

PSSS: I'm super excited, and I can't wait to see you

PSSSS: Today is our nth year being together

"the cute lil' movie"

Lucifer arrives right on time with a big, cute, dopey smile on his face

He brings you into a tight hug (that probably chokes you, but you let it happen anyway because you love Lucifer just as much)

"Aww, you decided to wear that outfit? Gosh, you look stunning. I knew you'd like that one!"

"Look at how good we match. We look amazing, don't we?"

After almost 10 minutes of Lucifer fussing over you, he finally teleports you both to the movie theater, and obviously, it's a romance

No doubt, you get the best two seats in the theater

When he watches movies, Lucifer loves to hold your hand. It makes him feel calm and happy.

Undoubtedly, Lucifer would always find a way to hold you one way or another.

Lucifer gets super emotionally attached when he watches the movie, and absolutely adores the characters

"They look so cute together? Oh my gosh, just kiss already...!"

"We should definitely try that together, that's such a good idea." (it's not-)

"I feel bad for him... I sympathize! (so and so) is so oblivious, just like a certain someone." He'd tease as he looks at you (and damn, ouch!)

If anything sad happens in the movie, he'd be bawling

He'd cling onto your hand and weep

"Why did that have to happen? That's so cruel! (name), tell me why...!"

"No, they don't deserve that. I think I'll have a word with the director..."

"Lulu, no-"

"-Lulu, yes!"

Watching movies (even if the movies themselves are absolutely terrible) are always wonderful experiences with Lucifer because of his strong reactions

Really, you love him to bits

After the movie finishes, with Lucifer being either a sobbing mess, or a very happy fella, it's now time for dinner

You cup his cheeks and squish them with your thumbs gently, and you place a kiss on his forehead. "Lulu, it's time for dinner, m'kay? Don't get too carried away by your emotions."

"dinner at your favorite place"

Lucifer would reserve the whole restaurant just to have some time with you to talk about anything and everything

If you wanted, you could order every single thing on the menu and Lucifer wouldn't even flinch––nor would his wallet

"Oh, are you hungry? I should've brought some snacks for you to enjoy at the theater."

"Eat as much as you want, dearheart. I wouldn't want you leaving with an empty stomach."

Yes, Lucifer uses dearheart (a more old timey version of sweetheart)

As the two of you eat, you'd talk about anything and everything really

About how your feeling, how the past year has been and future plants (while you tell everything to lucifer, and vice versa, it's just nice to set some future goals or check in on how the other is doing)

Lucifer, if you'd give him the pleasure of being fed, would definitely enjoy it

"For me?" His eyes would sparkle as he takes a bite. "Thank you."

Lucifer would definitely be the type to eat anything you make or give to him and say it tastes super delicious (although it might not fit his tastes sometimes)

When dinner is over, he takes you home.

What happens after is totally your choice ;>

a/n: i do apologize if the headcannons are bad! i don't usually write headcannons.

also if luci seems OOC, i apologize for that too lol. i just can't help but see him as an overly excited, emotional, dorky S/O that's always a ball of excitement (much like charlie)

[qin-qin16]

Ooo, I do not have anything specific but doing something silly or fun with either Killer or Ink (or both but like idk how you'd manage that?? shrug lol)👉👈

(I put anon on, but you will know who this anyway LOL prob)

cw.: Cat coded Ink, gn!reader, Ink drinks the pink vial and becomes an affectionate kitty, is more platonic than anything, Reader is curious about the effects each vial has and Ink is delighted in showing them… 

note: I decided to write about him because I have just one work for him :( my boy needs more love! I may write about Killer later, who knows…

"Wait, wait, wait! Don't tell me, I want to guess." You arrange the vials in front of you once more, lined up in the order of the rainbow, starting with red and going to purple. You place the ones that don't fit the rainbow scale, like pink and white, in a separate section.

"To be honest, I was expecting more colors. If these are what regulate your emotions, shouldn't there be, I don't know, maybe thirty of them?" You ask casually, examining one of the vials more closely between your fingers. You notice that, even when closed, there's still a faint smell of fresh paint coming from them.

"That's not the case! I take them all at once several times a day, and the combination of them is what creates various emotions," he explains, picking up one of the vials — you notice it's the red one, "These are just the primary or simpler emotions, like anger, sadness, joy, that sort of thing. It's the mix of all of them that makes me feel."

You chuckle, raising one eyebrow slightly.

"If it's that simple, then I guess red must be anger." You tilt your head toward the vial in Ink's hands. Your smile widens when he nods, his grin matching yours.

"That is right! And blue is for sadness, yellow is for joy, and—"

"I told you not to tell me!"  Just like many times before, your hand covers his mouth, stopping him from continuing, "Okay, okay, three are already out of the game." Seeing him nod — your hand still covering his mouth — you start examining the remaining vials in front of you.

Naturally, the ones that draw your attention the most are the ones set apart from the rest: the white and pink one. Maybe white is for tranquility? It seemed like the simplest guess — likely designed to help Ink guess them easily when he forgot.

With your other arm, you reach for the pink vial, inevitably moving away from Ink’s mouth.

“I have no idea what this one does,” he says as you lift the closed test tube above your heads, inspecting the liquid against the light.

“Neither do I,” you reply, rotating the vial in your hands before turning it toward Ink. “Drink it.”

Without a second thought, he takes the vial from you, uncapping it with his thumb and gulps down the pink liquid. You turn your face away as he drinks, still feeling a bit uneasy every time he eats or drinks something (how is it even possible for skeletons to swallow anything?).

“So? How do you feel?” When you finally turn around, you’re startled to see Ink so close to you, “Whoa! Hey…” An awkward laugh escapes your lips.

“I feel good…” You’ve never heard him speak like that — kind of mumbled and soft.

Before you can ask any more questions, Ink rests his head between your neck and shoulder, quickly wrapping his arms around your torso and pressing his body closer to yours. You can feel his ribs through your clothes, as well as the gentle rub of his skull against your neck.

“I would say you feel more clingy than good…” Your hands stay away from him, unsure where to place or what to do with them.

“I don’t know, I just want to be close to you,” he whispers against your skin, giving a gentle squeeze before relaxing his embrace again.

“Is this some kind of, I don’t know, affection vial or somet— are you purring?” A faint, gradually increasing sound like a motor came from Ink’s chest, traveling up his spine to his jaw and vibrating against your skin.

“You’re so warm, so soft…” Now you understood why he drank them all at once; it was clearly some kind of side effect from drinking an entire vial without the others to regulate it.

With little choice, you rest your hands on him, one moving to the back of his neck and gently caressing it — he emitted a sharp chirp as you did — while the other trails down his skeletal shoulders, lightly fidgeting with a part of Ink’s large brown scarf.

You let Ink pull you onto his lap, adjusting your position quickly so you remain facing each other, closely pressed together..

Before Ink buries his face in your shoulder again, he looks up at you — one of the rare moments when your eyes meet his eye sockets in a fixed staring —, with his chin resting softly against your chest.

Two pink hearts stare back at you, and you can’t help but feel a warm flush on your cheeks as you notice the rapid thump-thump of your own heartbeat.

[hwnglx]

this man is a complex person, i tried my best to explain it with my limited english heh 🥹 hope it's still an enjoyable read

mingyu's ideal type

based on tarot. i do not know these idols personally. energies are always changing. what i say is NOT straight fact. pls take it with a grain of salt!

physical traits

youthful facial features. big, bright and expressive eyes. (i can see him liking glittery and sparkly eye make up on girls) fair complexion. athletic and firm build. fairy like but intense. strong air and fire influences. i keep seeing taeyeon from snsd.

personality traits

mingyu wants a person who's unconditionally loyal to him. i remember for my svt love reading, i got lethargic energy from him, and i think a lot of that might come from mingyu feeling misunderstood. his birth chart is so interesting, with that sun and venus in aries plus virgo mars, he can come off strong to people. but that pisces moon softens him up a lot. he is much more sensitive than one would think.

there is this big reluctance in him when it comes to being open about his inner conflicts or self doubts, because it feels like people either won't take it very seriously, or believe he'll get over it anyway, since he usually presents himself in such a confident manner. (he can also just get embarrassed about being such an emotional man) this reading surprised me, actually. mingyu seems to really want and need a person who's patient and understanding with him. who's willing to invest their time and effort into the relationship, who's okay with the relationship probably requiring more work than others, just because he seems to not be a guy who's overly comfortable or familiar with more longterm connections.

mingyu wants a lover, who can change his perception of love. who can make him believe that love is legit, and he is a person worth trying for, a person who is capable of a committed connection. i'm in his energy, and can truly feel this inner sadness. there is this feeling of being burnt out, like no one will in fact care enough about him to put in the effort.

mingyu wants a person who can open his eyes to the better version of himself. and in his eyes, that is the version of him, that is capable of loving someone boundlessly. i keep hearing “change my mind”. i also thought of the song change me by justin bieber (again lol), which hits home to an almost scary extent, for the way mingyu seems to feel. it appears to be at this almost delusional level, of sincerely hoping there is that one person out there who will help him change. he wants to be able to let go of his ego, and show his lover his more vulnerable side, without shame. yet again, i keep feeling embarrassed for him, like it's just uncomfortable. he's deep in this perception of “men shouldn't be like this.”

mingyu likes generous and selfless people, he wants someone who will display how much they care for him in an open manner. whether that is through their words, or their actions. he seems to really love the idea of this more “traditional” wife material (the empress!), someone who will know how to nurture someone's emotional needs. he wants someone capable of intimate and deep emotional connections. he's (as many pisces moons are) someone who sees himself in other people. he subconsciously tends to mirror people, so it's an essential need for him to have someone by his side, who is more comfortable with the things he still struggles with.

he also likes people who are protective over their own territory, who look after their responsibilities and obligations in a reliable manner. mingyu wants his lover to have a clear idea of what they want in life. someone who just aligns perfectly with what he wants as well. however, he finds it very charming when they can get more shy and almost childlike and 🤭🥰 all cute and giggly when in love. he likes getting a reaction out of the person he likes.

him as a boyfriend

+ this keeps coming up again and again, but mingyu will really want to let go of his insecurities when with his lover. they tend to weigh on him so much (someone check on this man ㅠ). most of his insecurity seems to be based on his actions, which makes sense with his perfectionistic virgo mars. so, in a ❤️ connection, he feels like he needs to step up his game, and do everything in his power to satisfy his lover.

he's very giving. once mingyu is in love with someone, he'll be open and expressive about his affection towards them. there is this profound desire in him to showcase his love in a direct manner, he's very passionate. his love language is mostly based on physical touch, words of affirmation and giving gifts. he has so much aries energy, which can make him come off as very self-centered, but he's at his most generous when he starts a romantic bond. i can see him buying you the most extraordinary gifts, he'll really want to impress you, and be immensely proud if you show him the happiest reaction. like he fulfilled his mission. he truly wants to be a good boyfriend.

he's also very private when it comes to his relationships. he believes it's an intimate, and special thing, that only the two of them should be involved in. mingyu will put much value into keeping the details of the relationship a secret. i can see him loving this idea of sneaking out with his lover at night, or doing things they shouldn't be doing, at inappropriate times, with no one knowing. he loves the thrill of it. the mile high club popped into my mind, so.. do with that what you want, lol.

- well, a lot of this passion can be a short-lived sensation. mingyu will be extremely invested in the beginning stages of the relationship, feel a lot of enthusiasm and drive (“you're the love of my life”), but i can see him growing tired quickly because of all the effort and patience a relationship requires. there is this vibe of, expecting you to do a lot to keep the relationship going, but not seeing himself able to remain patient enough to do the same. blaming you for not doing the things he himself isn't even doing.

there seems to be regret, and the realization that he was the main problem in many of his failed relationships. he is now realizing, that relationships shouldn't be based on passion and emotion only, but require the ability to continuously remain committed and dedicated, which is a struggle for him. so, he wants and needs his lover to do what he can't do, and teach him a less thrilling, but more consistent way to love someone.

“i know i can often mess things up and suck at relationships, but if you believe in me and don't give up on me, i know i can turn into a better man.” is what it's giving.

[dsireland86]

I Fucked Up

Had a quick idea about the picture above. I've seen this photo so many times, and it always leaves a sad impression on me. Hopefully now it won't. ☺️

Tags: @foliosgirl @xxkittenkissesxx @thefallennightmare @lma1986 @philomenie @concreteemo @reyadawn

It was just a fight, right? You'd be back once the dust settled, and you had cooled down some. You always did.

Folio stood there in the glow of the red exit light, eyes still glued to the door after it had slammed shut moments ago. You walked out, finally finished with the lame ass justifications and excuses he'd been giving you since last night. It was just a party, you told her. It was just a fan. There were no feelings attached at all, but that only seemed to make the situation worse. She said she saw enough, heard enough, and now.... finally felt enough.

It's not like he slept with the girl. Didn't even come close to it. It's just that between the weed, the alcohol, and the mood, Folio allowed the girl, who'd been overly friendly since she and her friends showed up at the after show party, to do a little more than he expected her to do.

Noah and Jolly always told him he was a little naive when it came to women. But that's why you loved him, why the two of you connected the moment you met. She wasn't like all the other girls, and you weren't like all the other guys.

Folio fucked up. Bad. Panic rose in his chest, and his mouth suddenly went dry. His hands that still held his drum sticks shook with fear over the idea of losing you. What he did last night with that girl as she sat comfortably on his lap; the kissing, the thigh grabbing, the way she ran her hand over the one and only thing that belonged to you, squeezing and massaging it in hopes to achieve the result from him that she wanted, but couldn't... because it wasn't you. Only you knew how to make him cum in your hand.

Folio was losing you. Fast, and he could function properly to figure out what to do next. Tears welled up in his eyes at the thought of not having you as his. You were his world, his stability, the love of his life.

Pulling the little black box out of his pocket, Folio wiped the escaped tear away, staring hard at the box as if to tell him what he should do, but he heard only silence. That's when the emotional anger took over. Balling his hand into a tight fist, Folio threw a hard punch at the wall, putting a large dent with a small hole in it. "Fuck!" He looked down at his knuckles already bleeding.

"You know, that's coming out of your paycheck."

Folio turned around to see Matt standing behind him, arms folded across his chest as he leaned against the wall.

"Fuck! I'm sorry, Matt. I shouldn't have done that." Folio apologized, running his good hand through his wet hair to get it out of his eyes.

Matt shrugged, moving away from the wall towards Folio. "Yeah, whatever. The guy running this place is a fucking dick anyway." He grabbed a napkin off the snack table on his way over, taking Folio's hand and applying it to his bloody knuckles.

"I fucked up, Matt. I fucked up so bad. There's no way she'll marry me now if she feels like she can't trust me." Matt could hear the panic and fear in Folio’s voice. Honestly, even he was a little surprised by Nick's behavior last night, but was willing to believe his friend's admission more than she was at this point.

"I wouldn't be too sure about that, Folio. She has a tendency of surprising people. Remember when she first started hanging out with us, and Nicholas accidentally dropped his entire cup of coffee all over her brand new white leggings because of the cat he saw that was about to get hit. Dude, Noah and I thought she was going to freak the hell out, but instead, she took off running with Nicholas after that damn cat. In the end, they were laughing hysterically."

Folio laughed at the memory. It was the same day he asked her out on their first date. He'd walked into the bathroom while she changed, but instead of yelling at him to leave, she told him to stay since he'd already seen her underwear. That's when he kissed her for the first time.

"What about when we went bowling, and Stephen dropped the 11 lb bowling ball on her foot?" Folio wrinkled his nose remembering how bruised her foot got after that. "A few moments of choice words under breath and two shots of spiced rum later, she made sure that Stephen didn't feel bad about it and eventually the two of them were so drunk, they were singing their own karaoke versions of Bad Omens songs." "Holy shit, that was so horrible."

Matt and Folio shared a few moments of a good laugh. Folio found himself a little more hopeful that maybe this could turn out better than he thought. Maybe.

Matt patted Nick on the shoulder and removed the napkin from his knuckles. The bleeding had mostly stopped, but slight bruising was already starting to show.

"That's going to definitely make playing a lot harder." Folio shrugged. "My punishment." Matt raised an eyebrow. "Your ass is grass if it fucks up my front of house." Folio chuckled. "Anyway, Noah’s with her. He took her to the roof of the bus and is just sitting with her." Folio sighed, but the tension returned.

Noah hopped down the ladder, his long legs reaching the ground a lot sooner than Folio’s would have. "What the hell happened to you?" Folio looked down at his knuckles. "The wall and I had a fight," he answered pathetically. Noah scoffed. "Who won?" Folio held up his hand, showing Noah the bruising and partially dried blood. "Apparently, the wall." Noah chuckled.

"She's hurt, man. Her heart," Noah shook his head. "She's really trying to understand what happened and not be upset with you. She loves you more than anything else, and she knows you love her too. That's why none of it makes sense to her." Folio nodded, indicating he understood. "What do I do, Noah? How do I fix this?" Noah took a deep breath, sighing. "If I were you, I'd be completely transparent. Tell her exactly how you feel, whether you think it's important or not. Right now, she's in protective mode. Her guard is up, and it's going to take a lot of talking and understanding to help her get past this. But," and Noah laid his hand on Folio's shoulder, "she's vulnerable and is willing to do whatever it takes to keep you, Nick. You're her world. You mean everything to her. That's why this whole thing hurts her so badly. She just needs to know she's safe." Folio nodded again as Noah patted him on the back.

She looked like a shadow sitting all alone up there in the dark. The soft breeze of the night ripped through her hair, causing some of it to flutter in her face. Folio couldn't see it, but he already knew how beautiful she looked. "Now, that's a view," he said, sitting down next to her in the spot where Noah just was. He looked out into the darkness, at the bright lights of the city that lit up the night like the sun. She didn't respond to him in any way, just continued to sit there in silence. From the lights of the city, Folio could now vaguely see the outline of her face, those same features that he would gaze at often while laying next to her in their bed. Her button nose, her pouty pink lips, her soft cheeks, they made his heart flutter, and he wanted nothing more than to lean over and kiss each one. But Folio knew better. She needed her space.

They sat in silence for some time. Folio placed his hands alongside him, stretching out his legs. The slight breeze brought a chill, and he saw her shiver. "Are you cold?" he asked, not expecting her to answer, but she slowly nodded. His heart began to race. "Do you want my hoodie? I know you," "Yes, please," she said quickly, cutting him off. Folio almost slipped off the bus from shock. Regaining his balance, he quickly removed his hoodie and slipped it over her, hearing a satisfying sigh. "Better?" "Better," she whispered.

Feeling overwhelmed with fear, Folio knew he had to address the situation head-on before it was too late. "I fucked up. I know I did, and I'm sorry. I never, ever meant to hurt you. I never meant to hurt us. I was just caught up in the fucking moment and I, shit, I just wasn't thinking. I'm sorry, baby. I'm so fucking sorry for hurting you, for breaking your trust in me, for making think or feel the wrong things.... fuck, I'm sorry." Folio hung his head, placing both hands on either side of his head. He couldn't hold back the little bit of tears that escaped and dripped onto his black jeans. His shoulders shook from the pain he was feeling inside, knowing that nothing he said or did was going to fix what was broken. It was over, and he knew it.

She sat quietly, listening to Folio pour out his heart to her. His apology after apology hit her heart each time like an arrow, piercing the thin layer of anger and pride that had already begun to grow. She knew, without a doubt, that Nick was sorry for what happened, and if she was being completely honest with herself, she was blowing the whole thing a little bit out of proportion. Folio had managed to stop it before it went too far, even though Noah had to step in and help a little. He never touched the girl inappropriately even though she'd managed to run her grubby paws over the one and only thing that could make her weak as fuck and bring out the porn star side of her. Just the thought of someone else trying to stake a claim on what belonged to her infuriated her. Truth was, she wasn't as mad and upset at Folio anymore now that he'd been honest with her and admitted he'd messed up. She guessed maybe that was the only thing her heart needed; to hear Folio apologize and admit he was wrong.

"Thank you." Folio stilled at her words. "What?" he asked, raising his head and staring at her, confused. "Thank you," she repeated, this time turning her head to look at him. His heart fell to the pit of his stomach at just the sight of her beautiful face. God, he was so fucking lucky. "Thank you? For what?" Folio sniffed, sitting up straight as she climbed into his lap. What the hell was happening? She wrapped her legs tightly around his waist, placing her hands on either side of his face. Folio kissed the pads of her thumbs as she ran the back and forth over his lips. "I'm so confused, baby. What are," but his words were cut off by the pressure of her lips against his. The hunger and need Nick felt in just that one kiss was enough to set his world on fire and his nerves ablaze. He fucking wanted her, needed her like the air he breathed. She grinded against him slowly, up and down with her pussy centered right on top of his cock. Whatever was happening, Folio wasn't about to stop it.

"I just have one question, and then we're never talking about it again." The seriousness in her eyes was paralyzing. "Alright. What is it?" Folio asked, swallowing hard. "Would you have fucked her?" "No!" "Why not?" Folio grabbed her hips and pulled her closer into him, loving the slight whimper of a cry he heard in response. "Because she wasn't you, sweetheart, and you're the only one my dick belongs to." His eyes darted between hers, long and hard, until finally she smiled, and after one look at his lips, she kissed him again. Folio allowed her to take full control, using him for whatever she needed him for, because no matter what, he knew she loved him. Her fingers unhurriedly found his belt buckle, and he helped her undo it the second he felt her tug on it. She undid his jeans and pulled them along with his boxers down, lifting his ass up just enough for her to get them to his ankles, where he was able to toss them off.

"Mine," she said, taking Folio’s semi-hard cock into her hands. She wrapped her hand tightly around him and began her magical work of bringing him to the edge of sanity with just the use of her hand. "Oh, my god baby," Folio moaned, leaning back on his hands and throwing his head back, sighing at the feeling. Her fingers pinched his fully hard tip while her thumb spread the pre-cum that seeped from the tiny hole it worked open. This was his Achilles heel. Whether she was using her fingers or her mouth, only she knew it was the quickest and fastest way to make him cum. But that thought was ripped away the moment she removed her hand from him. The sudden loss made him whimper.

Innocently, she stared at him, searching his eyes for something. "What, sweetheart, what are you looking for?" He used a hand to caress the side of her face. She didn't answer, just continued to stare as she pushed her shorts and panties to the side. Holding two fingers up to Folio’s mouth, she told him to spit, to which he willingly obeyed. Using his spit as lubricant, which utterly wrecked Folio, making him wonder how in the fuck he deserved a woman like the one that was about fuck him on the roof of his bands tour bus, she aligned his hard cock against her heated aching pussy and slide herself onto him, biting her bottom lip as he pushed himself in, stretching her like it was first time, again.

"Goddamn, sweetheart, holy fuck!" She never broke eye contact with Folio, even as her pace quickened a little. "Fuck, ughh god baby you feel fucking amazing," he moaned quietly, holding her tightly against him so he could feel every inch of her soaking wet walls. "You're so wet, baby," he panted, already feeling the effects of her tight pussy clenched around his throbbing dick as she continued grinding, nice and slow, on him. "You're hiding something from me. What?" Her question startled him, but it didn't surprise him. Folio knew she could always read him like a book. She stilled with him still buried inside her. "Reach inside the pocket," he told her, eyeing his hoodie she was still wearing. She did as she was told but froze the moment her hand hit the box. "Pull it out." Her gaze was heavily laced with apprehension. "It's okay, just pull it out," Folio encouraged her. She did. The little black box sat perfectly in the palm of her hand.

"Nick," she gulped, her voice trembling. "Open it." Tears filled her eyes, but she bravely opened the box and gasped at the small yet stunning silver diamond ring. "Marry me, please." Folio licked his lips nervously, unable to keep his own tears away. The way she gazed at him made Folio think she was about to say no. She looked from him, to the ring, and then back to Nick. "Okay." Folio swallowed, clenching his jaw. " You will?" He was afraid he didn't hear her right." But she nodded her head. "Yes! I'll marry you, Nick." Without realizing it, Folio released the breath he'd been holding. Taking the small ring from out of the box, he slipped it on the ring finger of her left hand, bringing it to his lips where he kissed it, then placed it against his chest. Without another word, she began moving against him again, this time harder and faster, pulling Folio towards the edge quickly.

"God you fuck me so good baby." Folio whispered the harder she grinded her pussy against him. "That sweet little pussy belongs to this dick, doesn't it?" She nodded quickly. "Holy shit baby, yeah, right there, don't stop. Oh fuck." Folio squeezed his eyes shut, his entire face twisting in a mixture of pleasure and pain as the pressure of release became strong. "Fuck me harder baby girl, you're gonna make me cum!" He clenched her hips tightly, moving her back and forth on him to get her a little deeper. Her lips found his, devouring him as she tasted and the inside of his mouth with her tongue. He pulled her top lip between his and sucked right before pressing his tongue against hers and fighting for dominance. "Fuck yeah baby, right there, shit!" She grabbed his face between her hands and locked him in a deep dark stare. "Cum for me, baby. Cum inside me." Her soft tone and warm whispers was all Folio needed. "Ughh, god- fuck!" Folio bit down on one of his good knuckles, spilling his release inside her and coating her inner walls with his seed. They were both out of breath, panting and hearts racing. She stared at the ring on her finger, unable to stop smiling. "You like it?" Folio asked, finally catching his breath. She looked up at him with a smile. "I love it," she replied, looking back down. Folio could tell she was fighting more tears. " Hey, come here, sweetheart." He pulled her into his chest, wrapping her up tightly with his arms; the place where she always felt the safest. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry I hurt you." She looked up at him and smiled. "Thank you. I love you, and I forgive you. It's over now. Let's move on." Folio agreed as she laid back into him, still looking at the ring.

"I owe you," Folio said, catching her as she jumped down off the ladder. She grinned, thinking about what Folio did whenever he owed her. He always made up for it in more ways than one. "You bet your ass you do," softly slapping him in the chest. "I might have a few ideas that I know will please my fiancé." Her face lit up with the word. "Fiancé!" Jolly's voice rang out. Folio held up her left hand to show him. "About fucking time, dude!" Jolly exclaimed, giving Folio a hand slap with a hug. "Happy for you, man." "Thanks, Jolly." Folio focused his eyes on her, smiling at the happiness that graced her face. He never thought his fuck up would've led to this, but it did. And now he was the happiest he'd ever been with the only girl he loved.