#even in his happiest moments the world finds a way to hurt him

[ghoostrash]

Nath said that he tried to communicate with his parents but they didn't want to participate in the wedding, so I just wanted to draw how I imagine that interaction went...

[ki-yomii]

hit it/forget it | part 01 | jjk

➥ pairing | jeon jungkook x f!reader ➥ word count | 6.7k ➥ warning(s) | 🔞 smut; rough, dom!jk, dirty talk, squirting, creampie, fingering, oral (f receiving), enemies to lovers, orgasm control/denial, drinking, slight college au ig??➥ summary | finally able to unwind for the first time in forever, you go to a friend’s party. only somewhere along the way you find yourself in bed with someone you swore you’d never sleep with. it’s too bad he’s not in any hurry to let you hit it, and forget it. ➥ notes | i’m v new to this fandom, and it has started to consume me lol ✌️🥲 ❤️ series masterlist | masterlist | inbox | AO3 ❤️

... Shit, what time is it?

Beams of sunlight pour in through the crooked blinds, stretching across the cluttered floor to flood the rumpled bed with golden light.

It’s so bright it hurts, your eyes watering with the effort it takes to open them as you roll onto your back with a quiet hiss.

Sore and still buzzed, it takes you several minutes to process your unfamiliar surroundings. Your mouth is stale and arid, the unpleasant taste of dehydration heavy on your tongue.

Needle sharp pain lances through your skull, and it’s hard to think let alone focus when it feels like someone’s shoving an icepick through your brain every time you so much as breathe wrong.

So much for a relaxing night hanging out with the guys, you think bitterly, pinching the bridge of your nose. There goes my last day off.

Spent curled up in bed fighting back nausea instead of out enjoying the last little bit of freedom your PTO offered.

If only the rest of the night had gone as well as the beginning...

Most of the group were camped around a game of beer pong when you arrived, already blitzed off their faces from pre-gaming while a few randos loitered around.

You didn’t pay them too much mind, more focused on catching up with your boys. It had been forever and a day since you’d talked to them, let alone seen them in person.

For a blissful moment it was just like old times; the floor sticky with spilled beer, wrestling matches followed by good-natured ribbing, and rowdy trash talk.

It reminded you so much of the shitty college parties they’d throw, you almost cried from the nostalgia alone.

The happiest you’d been in weeks.

Now you had adult bills and an adult life. Your schedules didn’t align like this very often. Getting to catch up and hang out with everyone again was a precious gift, one you didn’t realize how much you needed until you sunk back into the oversized couch, and took what felt like your first breath in months.

Your head was swimming, your heart bursting for fondness - only to choke on your tongue not even five minutes later when the front door slammed open to a round of hyped up chants, “JK, JK, JK!”

All the tranquility evaporated as Jeon Jungkook - the bane of your existence - waltzed over the threshold without a care in the world.

Meanwhile your heart was in your throat as he stood there in all his stupidly attractive glory while the rest of the gang surged forth. They swarmed him with friendly slaps on the back, a 12 pack of beer in one hand, and a bottle of tequila in the other.

He wasn’t supposed to be here - they said... He was supposed to be out of town for the weekend. If you’d have known -- fuck.

You wouldn’t have come. Shouldn’t have come. And now you were stuck with him for however long it took you to sober up.

God, you hated him.

Not that you knew why, really.

There was just something about him that got under your skin. Maybe it was the cocky way he held himself, his confidence sometimes bordering on arrogance.

Or maybe it was the constant teasing. (You refused to admit it might be because of how attractive you found him, and how angry that made you.)

Whatever the case, ever since he met you all those years ago, Jungkook’s made it his life’s mission to be as insufferable as possible. Always waiting in the wings with a flirty comment and that self-satisfied smirk of his.

Dealing with him was like dealing with an overgrown - competitive - toddler. It got exhausting after a while.

Far easier to avoid him altogether, even though that mentality came at the expense of your friendships.

You stopped going to events if you knew he’d be there, ducking out of get togethers last minute if you so much as caught a glimpse of his car. Eventually, your absence became accepted - expected even - which further fueled your inherent dislike of him.

As if all the reasons you don’t like him weren’t enough, you were tipsy, and that was always a recipe for disaster. Without your inhibitions halting your tongue, you had no qualms about calling him out on all his petty bullshit.

The particulars are too fuzzy to remember, but you’d been avoiding him by hiding out in the kitchen when he decided to come bother you.

One thing led to another, and he must have said something insulting enough because the next thing you knew, you’d crowded him against the counter.

He smirked while you snarled with distaste, a shot in one hand with the other balled in the open collar of his fancy button up. You thought about how nice it would be to smack that look off his face, and thoughtlessly agreed to a one v one drink off - winner takes all - just to one up him.

Damnit.

You should have left as soon as his ass showed up. And you should never have agreed to his stupid little competition in the first place. You know better than to fall prey to his schemes... yet here you are, so joke’s on you.

This has to be some kind of divine punishment.

All you wanted was to knock him down a peg (or ten). Then his stupidly handsome face, and low, mocking voice egged you on past your limits. Now, you’re in someone else’s bed, naked and sticky, nursing a hangover from hell.

Stupid, stupid, stupid.

God, you hope it’s not Jin.

Any of the others aren’t much better, but he’s your bro at heart, and there are some things you can’t ever come back from. If only last night wasn’t a hazy, distant fever dream pockmarked with fitful moments of clarity...

Memories curl through your mind like tendrils of smoke, opaque and sinister. The harder you grasp at them, the more confusing they become; coalescing into a tangled blur of swollen lips, and naked, sweat-slick skin.

Salty-sweet bursting across your tongue as the burning stretch of a fat cock sinks deep, a whiskey rough voice groaning low and heavy in your ear, “Fuck, you’ve always been such a little cock tease, haven’t you, baby? Mm, yeah, just like that. Knew you always wanted me, wanted this. Hhng, shit, I’ve wanted to do this for-fuckin-ever, princess…”

Goddamn Jeon Jungkook, and whatever horse he rode in on.

Of course, you’d get laid after a dry spell, and the only thing you have to show for it is the tender ache of your thighs, the tacky sensation of dried cum clinging to the swollen lips of your pussy, and the vaguest daydream of toe-curling pleasure.

At least the sheets are soft, the mattress plush, the bedspread muted, dark colours; altogether masculine but chic.

The fluffy pillows are to die for, something like expensive cologne threaded through the fabric; citrusy and bright with notes of mellow sweetness that fill your lungs, and cloud your senses with every deep inhale.

A familiar thread in an otherwise unfamiliar bed.

Whoever it is certainly has impeccable taste... which doesn’t help narrow down your list of suspects, at all. They’re all stupidly fashionable in everything they do, meanwhile you feel like a half-decent hobgoblin half the time.

You can’t decide what’s worse: the fact you slept with someone who’s a friend of yours - not many people outside of the core group came last night - or that you can’t remember who it is.

No lie, the temptation to slip out before they wake is hard to resist. But it’ll only delay the inevitable, and you honestly don’t want to do that to someone you care about.

It’s better to face the situation head-on, no matter how much you’re dreading it.

Over and done, quick and easy like a Band-Aid.

The conversation’s going to be awkward as hell but it was a drunken mistake. You’re adults and in a few years’ time, who knows, maybe you’ll be able to look back and laugh. No reason to let it ruin years of hard-earned friendship.

“Aah,” you groan mid-stretch, “...what a fucking mess.”

“Look who’s finally awake.”

You’ve gotta be kidding me.

The world screeches to an almighty halt, crashing and burning as all the breath in your lungs catches in your chest. Your heavy eyes pop open so fast you see stars, a field of grey sheets filling your line of sight.

A wave of disbelief threatens to drown you, hysteria following in the aftermath as your mind stutters to a stop.

Stomach turning, your heart slams into your ribs so hard you’re convinced you’ll break a bone. The thought of sleeping with a friend is bad enough, but the truth? So much worse. You wish the bed would swallow you whole. 

Why, you lament, why him?

That low, sleep rough tone dripping with arrogance.

It raises your hackles, sets your teeth on edge until you shake with the urge to punt his ass across the room. Never in a million years would you expect to hear that voice beside you in bed.

You wish with everything there is that it’s just a hallucination - but there’s no mistaking who that voice belongs to.

The knowledge sits bitterly in the back of your throat.

“This is a nightmare.”

No fucking way you’re turning around.

You inch to the edge of the mattress, grateful for the distance. The very idea of touching him repulses, repels.

You’re already too aware of how the bed dips beneath his weight, the shared space warmed by the sleep soft heat radiating from his skin.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Jungkook scoffs. “Keep telling yourself that, baby.”

A hot palm, rough with callouses, grabs your shoulder. The steel grip tugs you close, unyielding as it guides you onto your back.

As soon as you glimpse the sunlight caught in the tangled briar of his hair, your eyes slam shut.

If you can’t see him, you can pretend he’s not there and if he’s not there, well then you won’t have to face your colossal mistake.

It might be petty and childish but all things considered, you think you’re allowed to be. Waking up next to Jeon Jungkook is earth-shattering. And altogether mortifying when you consider all the thoughts you had before you knew you fucked him.

Of all the people…

He’s made passes for years, and you always blew them off. Now? You groan. They’re never going to let you live this down. You take back every kind thought. This asshole doesn’t deserve your praise.

Before you tell him where to shove it, fingertips skim the jut of your cheekbone. The action effectively shuts you up, your brain stuttering to a resounding halt. Soft and light like butterfly kisses, they trace over the sweep of your flickering eyelashes.

It’s a ticklish reminder that you’re not alone.

You jerk away.

The click he makes with his teeth does N-O-T make you throb. Neither does his persistence, the effort to force you into acknowledging his presence redoubled. He’s stubborn, and altogether not unlike a boy pulling pigtails.

The comparison unbidden and unwelcome, you bat him away with a sharp, “Quit it.”

His voice is far too smug for your liking when he says, “Why don’t you try to make me.”

“Oh, my god.”

This asshole…

Your fingers claw into the sheets instead of his chest, nails cutting into your palms as rage lurks just beneath the surface of your skin. Your breath shoves from your lungs fast and hard. It’s a struggle to reign in the urge to pummel him bloody.

Meanwhile, Jungkook redirects his attention, his hand dipping down to dance over the front of your throat. A rough thumb maps the curve of your jaw, a shiver rolling through your body at the touch.

His low chuckle is the only warning you get before he’s leaning over, the shift in position causing the hard, compact muscles of his torso to brush your side. The fission of awareness that follows in its wake crackles down your spine, steals your breath.

Senses fixated on the sensual glide of skin on skin while pulses of arousal kindle to life behind your navel. Slick gushes from between your folds, wetting the insides of your thighs. Heart in your throat, you steady your voice long enough to say, “Seriously, just leave me alone so I can wallow in peace.”

Warm breath tickles the side of your face, the cool metal of Jungkook’s lip piercing brushing the shell of your ear as he murmurs the syllables of your name. “Come on,” he says, “I dare you.”

The hell, is he being serious right now? What does he think this is?

“What are you,” you ask. “Five?”

“Would you stop being so dramatic?”

The first hint of genuine annoyance threads through the words growled against your cheek. His tone low, a warning buried in its depths. Fire and smoke, grit and gravel. You hate how you clench at the sound. Hate how confused he’s making you.

Why is he acting like this is a normal occurrence? You expect him to lord it over you, not act so...playful?

The uncertainty rankles, and your shoulders hike up around your ears. If he thinks he can jerk you around like this, he better step up and out because you’re out of fucks to give.

This is humiliating enough, and you’re not about to relinquish what’s left of your pride. 

“Do you ever stop talking,” you continue, ignoring the pulse between your thighs, the crack in your voice, “Or do you like the sound of your own voice that much?”

Your heart pounds in the ensuing silence, Jungkook all but ignoring you as he sinks his nose into your hair. The pleased rumble that vibrates from his chest into yours follows a deep inhale.

“Mm, you smell,” his lips tickle the side of your neck, “really good.”

A whimper works its way up your throat, your teeth barely catching it in time. Fissions of sensation shoot down to your stomach, hot and shivery.

“Shut up. Just stop - stop talking.”

It’s not what you mean to say - you have full intentions of cussing him out, reaching out to touch smack him - but by then, it’s too late. He’s already on the move, a mocking chuckle falling from his lips.

The sound shoots through you, stokes your rage and desire in equal measure until you’re shaking.

He tugs at the plush, tender flesh of your bottom lip caught between your teeth. “Y’know,” he muses, “I wouldn’t keep doing that if I were you. You might not like what happens.”

Surrounded as you are, it’s getting harder to think.

To breathe.

To be.

Sweat and sex cling to Jungkook, the scent filling your lungs with ash and burning through your bloodstream until he’s all that remains. Surrounding, smothering, swallowing you whole. “Look at me.”

Shit, he’s close - too close.

There’s a scant amount of space between your bodies, pressed stem to stern. Your tits crush against the hard plane of his chest, nipples stiffening with every drag of his skin, every shift of his body against yours.

His half-hard cock digs into the softness of your abdomen, wet and sticky as it drools into the dip of your belly button which shouldn’t get you as hot as it does. This is so not good.

“No,” you say, shaking your head. “No, I won’t.”

I can’t.

This is unacceptable. 

Fucking him once is bad enough, the only saving grace is that you barely remember the taste of his lips, the weight of his body pressing into yours, the stretch of him filling you to the brim.

If you give in now, even if it’s only an inch…

Well, he’ll take a mile and you don’t have an excuse for why you’ll let him. You’re already struggling with the urge to succumb, to inch closer. There’s no telling what’ll happen if you actually look into those burning eyes of his.

Of course, he doesn’t accept your refusal.

You never expected him to.

“I said look at me.” The thumb that was gently stroking along your face hooks around your jaw, digging into the soft spot on the underside. “Don’t make me say it again.”

You grit your teeth, channel the rising lust into rage. Anything to put some much-needed distance between you before you do something you’ll regret. Like, sleep with him a second time while stone-cold sober.

“Just fuck off, Jeon. This is embarrassing enough, you don’t need to rub it in. You won, okay? Congratulations.”

You refuse to let him have his cake and eat it too. Damned if he gets to hold this over your head. That drinking competition was all his idea, anyway. The victory blooming in your chest is short-lived, thoroughly blown to pieces.

He doesn’t respond verbally.

Fast as lightning, the hand on your jaw disappears only to reappear between your thighs to shove your legs open. He doesn’t waste time, runs his knuckles along the length of your slit without hesitation.

Teasing, testing, humming in approval at what he finds.

The sudden rough touch has you jumping, gasping, eyes snapping open, fixating on his blown pupils. The grin tugging at the corners of his mouth is more a snarl, downright predatory. The metal of his lip ring glints in the light, his teeth bared while he spears you with a hooded, hungry stare.

“That’s it, show me those pretty eyes of yours.” 

Breathless, your hips twitch and you clench at the praise, liquid fire pooling low in your belly.

Traitor.

“Jeon - Jungkook, knock it off.”

But you know he’s not going to stop. The ravenous look in his eyes says everything his mouth doesn’t.

“See,” he says conversationally, pausing long enough to thrust two fingers deep into you without warning. Pain sparks, flickers down your spine only to melt into a warm flush of pleasure as he twists his wrist. “That mouth of yours says one thing, but this pussy’s soaked. What am I supposed to think about that, huh?”

“I-”

Any response you have breaks off into a wounded moan, your brows furrowing as he flicks the tip of his finger against your g-spot.

“S-Shit!”

“Hm, what was that?”

A sharp smack stings across your wrist when you reach down to pull his hand away.

“Jeon - I - please…”

“Come on, use your words like a good little slut.”

“I - I can’t - shit!”

It’s impossible to think, let alone form sentences when the heel of his palm grinds against your swollen clit like that. Thick fingers curl deep, stroke, stretch until you mewl.

Every skilled thrust drives you higher, wrings pleasure from you so expertly you’ve half a mind to be pissed. Now you can see why all those girls were tripping over themselves to get with him back in college. As much as it pains you to admit it, he’s got game.

But even then, it shouldn’t be this easy to get you going.

To get your thighs clamping around his flexing forearm while uncontrollable shudders wrack your frame, finger fucked stupid by the sworn enemy.

“Hah.”

If you weren’t half out of your mind, you’d be more offended by the condescending smirk. All you do is half-heartedly smack his side, his free hand darting up to cover yours and keep it pressed against his skin.

You clench down with a whine at the feel of rippling muscle, the sight of his tatted fingers resting over your hand so delicately.

“Looks like I’m doing something right. Fuck, can you hear that, baby?” His movements slow to a crawl, the thrust of his fingers languid and deep. “Listen to how wet your tight little pussy is for me.”

Warmth creeps up your neck and sinks into the apples of your cheeks. It’s as mortifying as it is a turn on, the sloppy sounds of your needy cunt echoing back at you. Sticky arousal coats your puffy folds, every slick, squelching slide heard over stilted moans.

Without a doubt, you’re making a mess of his sheets. Judging by the husky growl of his voice, anything less wouldn’t satisfy him. “Gotta make up your mind, baby.”

He couldn’t sound any more indifferent, but the rough thrust of his fingers, the burning heat smouldering in the depths of his eyes says he’s anything but unaffected.

You whine, writhe, arch your hips to grind down on the hand working between your thighs.

It’s no use.

You get him right where you want him, only for him to flash a devilish grin and pull away. The desperation to get off builds and builds and builds until you’re half mad with it.

This asshole’s gotten you to the edge of cumming several times, only to watch with sick delight as he yanks you back, dangling you over the edge without letting you fall. You don’t even want to think about what this is doing for his already over-inflated sense of ego.

“You’ve been sending me all kinds of mixed signals for years.” He nips the tip of your nose, spreading his fingers wide open where they’re buried inside of you just to hear you squeal. “So what’s it gonna be?”

He’s playing dirty, and he knows it. It’s infuriating that smug looks so good on him. Are you really going to do this?

Ghosting his lips over yours in the barest of kisses, he whispers, slow and purposeful, “All you gotta do is say it. Be a good girl for me, and say: ‘Jungkook, please fuck me.’”

... Yes, yes, you are. But you’re never, ever going to admit that you want him.

Not when there’s nothing you can blame the impatient rise of your hips on, the grind against his palm, the unwavering eye contact that pins you in place. As unbelievable as this is, it all comes down to how horny you are and how good he looks above you.

You admit that he’s an asshole, but jesus, he’s attractive.

Jungkook chuckles, rolls his eyes. “So you’re gonna keep being a brat.”

He doesn’t look put out in the least. In fact, he’s downright feral with the anticipation of breaking you down and fucking you back together.

“Don’t worry, I’ll get you begging for my cock one way or another.”

The you wish dissolves into thin air, all your focus narrowing on the flex and shift of muscle as he crawls down the length of your body. Shouldering his way between your thighs, he settles on his belly and rubs his hands along your hips. 

Flinching at the first touch of his broad palms, you watch with rapt attention as his strong fingers inch closer and closer to your heat.

Every touch, every slide of skin calculated. Precise. Intent on getting your blood pumping and your pussy throbbing until you’re squirming against the sheets.

That ferocious stare, glittering like onyx in the light, tracks every movement, every twitch; catalogues what strokes get you mewling, what drag of fingers has you shuddering, shivering until you’re a downright mess.

Longtime lovers never paid half as much attention to what got you going, and a one-off mistake is doing a better job than all of them combined. Shit, he hasn’t even really done anything yet.

Jungkook’s as focused between your thighs as he is during training, a singular intent that’s intense and overwhelming. Frankly, it’s unnerving being so seen by someone you’ve considered an enemy for the longest time.

When did he start paying so much attention to you - and how did you miss it?

“Just…” you say, voice a quiet thing that sits in the space between your bodies, “Just get on with it already.”

He doesn’t need any more prompting. Jungkook uses his fingers to spread open your sticky folds. Cool air dances across your core, teasing at your swollen clit as every bit of your pussy is exposed to him.

There’s no hiding the embarrassing amount of slick wetting your thighs or how you pulse and twitch in desire.

He hums in approval at what he sees, your thighs trembling around his shoulders. “Thanks for the meal,” he says, brushing his thumb across the hood of your clit before he ducks down with his tongue out.

The firm, full contact lick has supernovas bursting behind your eyelids. He groans at the taste of you, grinds his face deeper into the apex of your thighs. The sound rumbles through your sensitive flesh, your thighs clenching around his ears.

A sigh escapes your throat, and you rest a hand on the top of his head.

Oh yes, a much better use for that mouth of his.

Your fingers delve into the thickness of his hair, inky black wrapped around your knuckles. For a moment you lose yourself in the sensation, senses so high. Every swipe of his tongue, every roll of cool metal along your heated slit as his lips pull at your folds sets you aflame.

The peace doesn’t last, overtaken by the smouldering antagonism that simmers beneath every one of your interactions. A ticking time bomb set to go off at the slightest provocation.

His face between your thighs inspires a dizzying mix of disgust and desire, that he’s even in this position pisses you off beyond belief.

In retaliation for every wrong he’s ever done (the specifics hazy when he sucks on your clit hard enough to curl your toes, the barest hint of teeth), you yank on his hair with as much strength as you’re able to muster.

His neck wrenches back, and he winces. You luxuriate in the petty revenge of it all as spite blooms warm in your chest. Serves him right. Though you gotta hand it to him, he sure knows how to use his tongue.

“You bitch,” Jungkook groans, smothering the vibrations in your slick folds. You keen, bow your back so far you’re afraid you’ll slip a disc. “That hurt.”

For all his complaining, he doesn’t stop.

Quite the opposite.

He dips his head, so you tug at the roots harder while his hands wrap around your thighs, pinning your hips to the bed while his tongue flicks and teases, licks and fucks you open slowly.

The messy sounds of your cunt as Jungkook eats you out to within an inch of your life broken by soft sighs, moans of pleasure, and the occasional masculine grunt. Previous partners have gone down on you before but never seemed to care for it.

Jungkook on the other hand? He’s loving it, eating you out with single-minded ferocity, seeking his own relief by rutting against the bed.

It’s one of the hottest things you’ve ever seen; the wild briar of his hair in utter disarray, sweat slick strands falling over his forehead while he buries his face in you, the muscles of his back bunching and releasing with every slow rock of his hips, his quiet, muffled moans of satisfaction, the ripple of tattoos as he pets at your flank.

He’s not shy - not that you expected him to be in this regard. You’ve heard all the stories about his prowess in bed from classmates and strangers alike.

All his movements are rough and desperate, wet and messy. The careful, slow teasing from before disappearing within the blink of an eye as he becomes consumed with a frantic desire to feel you cum on his face.

It’s not surprising that you don’t last long, orgasming embarrassingly fast, stuffed full of his tongue and fingers.

“Jungkook,” you choke out his name, a broken sound that fades into open-mouthed silence.

The ball of heat in your belly bursts, rushes over you like a tidal wave. You shake apart, pussy clenching so hard your womb aches as a gush of fluid dribbles out of you, soaking the lower half of your body and the bed.

Stars dance in the darkness behind your lids. You’re strung out and weak, incapable of movement, of thought, of anything besides the actual possibility that your bones dissolved when you came.

“Shit, that’s hot.”

Jungkook shifts.

Your lashes flutter. Breathing is difficult. You can’t feel your hands, the tips of your fingers tingling.

He kneels at the foot of the bed, cum soaking the lower half of his face. His lips red and swollen, his eyes hooded, dark and lusting. Pupils blown so wide the iris is nothing more than a thin ring of brown.

His cock juts from his body in a proud line, curved towards his belly. Smears of pre-cum glitter along the valley of his abs, and you have the strangest urge to lick him clean.

Seeing him look so debauched shouldn’t be as hot as it is, and you want to kick your own ass for thinking about Jungkook like this.

Fucking him is one thing, actively appreciating him something else.

But no matter how hard you try to ignore it, the sight of him kneeling and lusting is a sucker punch to the gut. Breathless and yearning, you’re at war with yourself, contemplating round three when he opens mouth.

Again.

“Not so high and mighty now, are you?”

The jut of his chest, the arrogance in his gaze ruins everything. Anyone halfway decent with their tongue who knows what a clit is can get a woman off. Jungkook’s nothing special - contrary to all those co-ed’s.

Just another run-of-the-mill asshole who thinks he’s a god. You’re reminded of this now that you’re not cum-dumb, brain dribbling out your ears. And just when you forgot why you dislike him.

“You know what, Jeon?”

If you could move, you’d shove him off the bed and get out of dodge. As it is, you’re in no such position; knees weak, thighs shaky as phantom waves of pleasure shoot from the crown of your head down to the tips of your toes.

You settle for a nasty scowl. Half as satisfying, but getting your point across all the same. “I’m still not fucking impressed.”

His expression drops into a bitchy sneer.

You want to smack him, wipe that look off his face with your palm. It would be like all your birthdays rolled into one.

“The fuck you mean?” Jungkook asks, brimming with gruff impatience. Good. Arrogant prick. “I made you squirt.”

Ignoring the pounding of your heart, you scoff and dismiss his words, no matter how true they ring. He doesn’t need to know you’ve NEVER done that before. “So? Even I can do that, you’re no better than my vibrator.”

The muscles in his jaw clench, bunching and releasing as his stormy gaze sears you to the bone. For the first time since he started this little - whatever it is - he seems genuinely pissed, shoulders tense and mouth a thin line.

You swoon, the empty ache inside of you pulsing in time with your heartbeat.

“I’ll fucking show you who’s better.”

“Sure you will,” you simper with a nasty grin, tone dripping with sarcasm.

As soon as you prop yourself up on an elbow with full intentions of hopping out of bed, a set of large hands stops you in your tracks. Panic shoots through you, and any residual anger you harbored fizzles away.

He can’t expect you to — oh, but of course, he does.

“No, not like this,” you say while you squirm, attempting to roll onto your belly. “I can’t.”

Fucking face to face is too intimate.

“Mm, no, I don’t think so, baby,” he croons, tone a mocking lilt as he cages you beneath him. “I wanna see your pretty little face when you cream all over my cock.”

Any response gets lost in a weak moan when he rubs himself against your slick folds, the fat head catching on the hood of your abused clit. You whimper, a sharp spike of arousal slicing through you, almost painful when it follows so swiftly on the tail end of your last orgasm.

You try one last time, voice reedy and thin when you say, “Jeon, please, I can’t - fuck.”

The tip slides into you without preamble, just far enough to feel it but not deep enough to get you off. The smug bastard thrusts gently, your tender, swollen walls suckling his cockhead, trying to pull him deeper.

Pure torture.

Mind wiped clean, embarrassment and protests all but forgotten, all your focus narrows down on how to get him inside you as soon as possible.

“Something wrong, baby?” he asks. “Got something to say? You’re squeezing down so hard. Want me deeper, don’t you? What a needy little slut you are for me.”

“Shit, Jeon, come on.” You pant, biting down on a whine. “Just put it in already.”

“Whatever you say.”

He keeps it slow, languidly works his cock deeper into you, inch by agonizing inch. Your muscles flutter, milk his thick shaft. It takes forever and a day before he bottoms out.

And then your eyes roll into the back of your head, hands flying up to anchor your nails into the meat of his shoulders.

He’s right there, cockhead snug against your crevice. Every ridge, every throb; it stokes the embers of your desire higher and higher, stretched so wide around him you ache; he’s the biggest you’ve had. You’ve never felt so stuffed full of cock before, it’s almost scary how good it is.

The taut skin of his belly grinds against your clit when he gets as deep as possible, pelvis flush with yours. “F-Fuck, Jeon.”

Above you, he shoots a cocky albeit weak grin.

You can’t decide if you want to slap him or have him fuck you into the mattress. Probably a bit of both. He boils your blood, but you’ve never been more aroused in your life.

Fucking hell.

“See, what’d I say? I’ll have you screaming my name in no time.”

You groan, breathing deep and slow. “Are you always such a prick?”

He hasn’t moved, but you’re on the edge, and far from ready for this to be over. The asshole hasn’t delivered. You haven’t been fucked raw, and you’re not leaving this bed until he gives it up. Now if only he could shut his mouth long enough to get the show on the road.

“Bitch.” He rolls his eyes, his broad palms firm on your hips while he shifts until your thighs rest over his. “Ready?”

You snort, shoot a comment about his dick not being that special and more than ready to tack on another scathing retort when he decides he’s had enough of your lip, pulling back and snapping his hips forward in one smooth movement.

It punches the air from your lungs.

Your mouth drops open in a near-silent gasp when the head nudges the spongy tissue of your g-spot. The sudden flood of warmth spreads out to all your limbs, pussy throbbing around him.

Your voice is shaky, spread thin, “A-Ah!”

Jungkook isn’t faring any better.

Hot palms tremble against your skin, the furrow to his brow pulling at his piercing, his mouth slack and glossy. His abdominal muscles tense with every stutter of his hips, flexing and resisting the urge to plow into you at max speed.

“Shit, baby, I forgot how tight and soft you are.”

Incapable of speech, reduced to mindless rutting. His broken moan shatters something between the two of you, and then it’s nothing but bruising kisses, sharp keens, rough hands, and frantic fucking.

He slams into you so hard the bed rattles against the wall, punctuating his filthy murmur of, “Perfect fucking fit, just like I knew you’d be.”

You appreciate his rippling muscles with your hands, caressing the firm lines of his body as you do your best to keep pace. Every other thrust has his cock slamming into your g-spot, your toes curling in the sheets.

It’s too much and not enough.

“Jungkook, I’m - I’m,” you sound wrecked, unable to even finish your sentence. “Please.”

“Yeah, that’s it, baby,” he growls, voice full of gravel and hips never missing a beat, “I got you. Now do it, cum, wanna feel you squirt on my cock.”

A fingertip finds your clit.

Rubs once, twice, three times, and then you see galaxies.

Crying out, you clutch him close as the bubbling pool of heat overflows, crashes into you like a tsunami. Helpless against the rushing tide. Your body spasms, your cunt gushing around Jungkook’s pistoning cock.

The slick slap of your skin almost as obscene as his groan, low and lewd, when you clench and clamp down on his shaft. “That’s it, that’s my good girl.”

Boneless and panting, you sink back into the pillows and stare up at Jungkook with glassy eyes. The early afternoon light highlights the lines of his body, the curves of his muscles, the splashes of color etched into his skin. Tremors wrack your body as you lay there while he chases after his own pleasure.

“Shit, I’m gonna — fffu-ck!”

One last thrust buries him to the hilt, his cum flooding, filling you to the brim. Face slack with pleasure, his head drops into the cradle of your shoulder. He pets your sides with gentle hands, his breath puffing across the sensitive skin of your neck while his body twitches with aftershocks.

The both of you are weak, fucked out.

You lay under him for a long time, silent except for your shuddering breaths. Your bodies coming down from unimaginable heights. When your arms aren’t so useless anymore, you push at his chest and grunt.

“Get off.”

A flood of cum follows his swift exit, thick seed dribbling down your folds and pooling on the sheets beneath your ass. Your eyes flutter at the sensation, a primal sort of appreciation curling through your belly.

Well, that’s new. And something you refuse to unpack now.

Flopping down beside you, Jungkook stretches, his expression far too self-satisfied for your liking. “For being such a bitch, you’re a good lay.”

Leave it to him and his goddamn mouth to ruin the afterglow.

You shoot him a sour look, dragging yourself to your feet.

There’s a moment where you almost fall, wobbly and off-kilter, before you regain your balance. You clean yourself gingerly with a towel hanging half out of the hamper.

Sore, tender, and vindictively pleased to see the white streak of his cum stain the dark terrycloth.

The asshole laughs at your disgruntled look, lounging on the bed like a lazy jungle cat. His thick arms cross behind his head and he watches you with dark eyes as you bend to get your panties.

Try as you might, you can’t help sneaking peeks at his barred chest. The smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth tells you he’s noticed the covert looks. You scowl. The smug bastard.

“Don’t be like that, baby. We had a great time.”

Scoffing, you refuse to dignify that with a response, and tug your shirt over your head.

“Wanna know what I think?”

“Not really, but I’m sure that won’t stop you.”

He ignores your sarcasm and continues, nonplussed, “I think you’ve never cum so hard in your life. I think you’re gagging for another ride.”

You pick something up off the floor, chuck it at his head and pivot on your heel. Anger pulses, white-hot and only partially satisfied by the pained groan from behind you as the object makes contact.

“What the hell was that for?”

“You know what that was for. God, are you always such a fucking dickhead?”

“I think you like it,” he says. “I think you like me - I think you’ve always liked me.”

You ignore the burn of your cheeks, and scoff.

The man’s ego is big enough without you adding fuel to the fire. He doesn’t need to know that was the best sex you’ve ever had. That you came so hard your toes curled, and your hands went numb.

“In your dreams, Jeon.”

Keeping your back to him, you’re about to put on your pants when an iron grip shackles itself around your wrist. You tug, testing the hold. He’s unyielding, spearing you with an intense, depthless look.

“...Jeon?”

“Where do you think you’re going?”

You blink, swallow and flounder for a response. “Um, I - home?”

He frowns, and tugs you back towards the bed with a huffy sneer, “Get back in bed.”

Wait, what.

You blink, and blink again at the blush stealing its way across his face, the tips of his ears and the apples of his cheeks a soft pink, his eyes resolutely avoiding yours. Can’t help asking, “...What?”

“S-Shut up!”

“I didn’t even-”

“Just come back to bed.”

Still in disbelief of what’s happening, you let Jungkook rearrange you to his liking. You find yourself tucked into the curve of his chest, your nose pressed against his collarbone with his buried in your hair. His lips rest against your forehead, dropping the faintest of kisses to your brow.

“...We’ll talk when you wake up.”

You can’t tell if you’re curious or horrified, but for now, getting a few more hours of sleep sounds like an excellent idea. And, you suppose, it could be worse.

Shacking up with Jungkook isn’t all that bad, so long as he keeps his mouth shut. 

[myloveismylevi]

Just a lil weepy thinking about post-war dadvi, his little boy (5? 6?) wanting to make tea for his Dad the way he’s seen him do it a million times, because he just loves him so much and admires him and wants to make him the happiest Dad in the world, but he’s still so little compared to the world around him, so he pulls a chair over to the counter and climbs on it, putting water in the teapot, opening the canister of tea leaves, and pulling a teacup - Levi’s favorite teacup - out of the cabinet. but his hands are small, and when he tries to climb down from the chair the cup slips from his hand and breaks on the kitchen floor.

So, naturally Levi comes hurrying (as much as he can on his stiff knee) into the kitchen to see what produced the noise, and finds the chaos his little one has produced on the counter, and him, kneeling on the ground, with shards of porcelain in front of him. And when his father stands in the doorway, he looks up at him, tears collecting at his lash line.

“I’m sorry, Daddy…” he’ll whimper.

“What happened?” Levi’ll ask in his usual monotone voice, but there’s a softness behind it.

And the boy will try to explain, tears rolling down his face, feeling so awful for making a mess, and for breaking his Dad’s favorite cup, and for not being able to take care of Daddy the way Daddy takes care of him, because he’s got Levi’s same bleeding heart beating in his chest, the one that wants to take care, the one wants to be strong and independent. But also his introspection, his emotion, his sensitivity and empathy.

And Levi’ll be transported back to his own childhood, the teacup that belonged to his mom, the one that they had to sell, the one he tried to get back, but couldn’t. And his heart will ache so bad to think that his child, his sweet perfect angle of a thing, feels even a fraction of the hurt he felt over a piece of porcelain, because of his utter devotion to him.

And he’ll take the boy in his arms, and he’ll hold him close, and he’ll tell him patiently and gently, in his Levi way, that a cup is just a thing, and what matters most is that he wasn’t hurt. And how much he appreciates the boy wanting to do a nice thing for him, but that what he was doing was dangerous, and how important it is that he be more careful, because stoves are hot, and chairs can tip, and broken porcelain can cut one of his 10 miraculous sweet little fingers, and there are thousands of teacups to replace what broke but nothing in all of eternity could replace the boy, living and breathing, that he holds fast to his chest. (His voice is quiet, words grammatically simple, and his tone is steady but his heart is physically ACHING and flailing in his chest from how much love is trying to squeeze into it rn)

And Levi tells his son, in plain English (Eldian? Idk?), that he loves him, and that he always will, because with a tiny mind and heart at stake, there’s no room for beating around the bush with that talk like he often does. And he tells him that his parents will help him to do whatever he wants to do, and to ask for help next time.

Because if only someone’d told Levi, when he was that small, that they would help him. If someone has just loved him, and ALWAYS been there… how much easier he could’ve breathed all those years. The prospect of not having to constantly be afraid to feel. To fail.

It’s all he can think about - how he can do better, give more, than what he had - even in a moment as seemingly small as this.

(I’m sorry.)

[maybankswhore]

𝐖𝐄𝐃𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐁𝐄𝐋𝐋𝐒.

summary: jj was your first love. he was your first everything. but rafe was persistent on being your last. jj figured the relationship with rafe would run its course. he didn’t think rafe would get too far , but when you and rafe get engaged , he realizes he might’ve lost you for good.

this is based off the unreleased song ‘wedding bells’ by nick jonas ( obv written about #niley but wtv not my fight !! )

“ pardon my interruption. the drink’s just setting in and all of my reservations — a reason i don’t exist. she says ‘ can you keep a secret? a ceremony’s set for june. i know it’s a rush but i just love him so much. i hope that you can meet him soon. ”

The night air seemed to suffocate him. He felt like an idiot just sitting there , his fifth beer of the night thus far in his hand. He had been soaking it in. His eyes were entirely on you and he hadn’t tried hiding it , even though you had barely noticed.

He knew why you didn’t.

You were over him. JJ could feel it. You weren’t searching the crowds for his eyes to see if they were also looking for yours. Your gaze didn’t linger on him when you danced , a playful expression on your face.

Instead you danced with yourself , the happiest smile he had ever seen on your face. The night sky seemed to love you , shining on the most attractive parts of your features. The aura around you was alluring , holding him captive.

He loved seeing you like this. So authentically beautiful and warm. He just hated that he wasn’t the cause of it— or a part of it at all , really.

Though JJ knew it had been his fault things were turning out the way they were. He was silly to think a girl like you wouldn’t have somebody better out there for him , snatching you up the first chance he got.

He was being selfish letting you go. He wanted all the things temporary happiness brought him , and it cost him you. JJ hadn’t thought it all the way through , he knew that. He didn’t know why he never thought of the day he’d see you loving someone else.

He watched as you lazily strolled over to him. Your eyes with facing low , red glazing over them. A silly smile on your face as the shots you threw back with Kiara starting to circulate through your bloodstream. “JJ! What’re you doing all the way out here?” You laughed , plopping onto the empty spot beside him.

JJ’s heartbeat quickened , avoiding making eye contact. “Just takin’ a quick breather.” He sniffed , rubbing an imaginary sore spot in his jaw.

You were too cross faded at the moment to notice the falter in his expression and distant tone of his face. A silly grin on your face as you stared at the stars , finding yourself becoming entranced with them. “Remember when we used to stargaze?” The memory still fond in your brain.

JJ nodded lightly , a sad smile on his face as he recollected the memories he held so dear with you. The ones he had taken for granted.

“Those were some good times.” You grinned. Absentmindedly , your head lulled onto his shoulder. A habit you had broken long ago but the drugs made you feel a bit hazy , the unspoken ridge in you and JJ’s friendship seemed non existent.

Even though you and JJ had broken up , you had found yourself in a place to let go of the hurt you had once felt. Finding Rafe— finding love elsewhere had shifted that for you. Now , you craved his friendship , the purity of what it was before then. The platonic , but comforting way that only two bestfriends that had grew up with eachother could feel. It was something nobody else could replace.

“They were.” JJ murmured back , closing his eyes at the feeling of you.

“I have to tell you something.” You whispered to him. You wanted to gush it to the world , you had been holding it in for weeks. The news would shock the island— the gossip going from person to person. It was supposed to stay a secret for a while but now seemed like the time to tell JJ. . . You had liquid courage and you wanted him to be the first one to know.

You weren’t sure how he would take it. While you were over the moon excited and happy— you couldn’t help that nagging guilt in the back of head stop ruining your mood about it.

You had nothing to be guilty about. JJ had broke up with you. JJ chose someone else over you.

But it still didn’t stop you from feeling worried about his reaction.

JJ sat up straighter and faced you. Drunk thoughts were real thoughts. He told himself.

“You can’t tell. . . anyone.” You emphasized , anxiously biting your bottom lip.

“Never a soul between us.” JJ swore , the old words you’d recite to eachother as children touching your heart.

“We’re thinking of a June wedding.” You gulped nervously , digging out the ring Rafe had given you out of your pocket , slipping it onto your right hand.

JJ’s chest nearly caved as he looked at it. The way it just fit your personality so well— it was exactly like something he’d see you choosing yourself.

That hit in for a multitude of reasons. One because Rafe had liked you enough to get to know you and see what you liked. He was surprised Rafe Cameron was capable to taking someone else’s feelings into consideration. Two because he knew how much you probably loved it. The small attention he paid to detail.

God , he felt as though he was going to throw up. His stomach immediately felt nauseous , thinking of you married to him , vowed to him. His girl. His Y/N.

“Isn’t it like. . . rushing into shit?” JJ kind’ve laughed , an awkward sound mimicking one left his throat instead. He tried to sound casual , not like he was panicking and on the verge of passing out.

You giggled like a school girl , awestruck. “I know it’s a rush but I. . . I just love him so much.” You gushed , your eyes turning into hearts at the thought of him. It made JJ feel disgusted.

He didn’t want to ruin everything for you. He didn’t want to open his mouth and made that silly , love drunk look on your face to change.

So he didn’t say anything. He just smiled and nodded. Ignoring the way he felt tears welling up in the corner of his eyes , blinking them away at your oblivious attention.

“ pardon my harsh reaction. you put me on the spot. but if i’m being honest , i’m hoping that i get caught showing you i’m unhappy. letting you see my truth. ’cause if you recall , our anniversary falls eleven nights into june. ”

The next time he had heard about this , his demeanor wasn’t all that cool.

JJ really wished it was all just a really , really , really bad nightmare. When he woke up the next day , he completely avoided talking about it again. He was hoping you were just drunk and it wasn’t actually happening. He did not want to visit those feelings.

But as you stood in front of him with Rafe beside you , telling the Pogue’s– breaking the news , the reality of the situation fell upon him.

“Are you two fucking crazy?” JJ sneered , standing up from his sitting position on the couch. Rafe took a protective stance in front of you at the sudden action , making JJ scoff. “You don’t need to protect her from me.”

“JJ maybe we should just—” Pogue tried to intervene. The way your face fell made him jump into action , but JJ shrugged him off.

“No! Pope. Man , ’cmon. Marriage? You can’t seeing think this guy is good enough for Y/N.” He waved a hand in front of Rafe. “This is coked out , crazy Rafe Cameron who literally beats the shit out of us.”

Pope grew silent , feeling JJ’s point.

You pushed Rafe to the side , boring daggers into JJ’s head. “What the hell’s wrong with you?”

“What’s wrong with me?” He scoffed. “What’s wrong with you thinking we’d wanna hear this?”

“I was thinking you guys were my friends! And you’d be happy for me.” You shouted back at him. Everyone was staring at the two of you cautiously , not wanting to see how this end.

Even Rafe didn’t feel like it was the time to hash out the past. You weren’t ready for that.

“God , Y/N don’t you think you’re being a little bit naive here?” JJ pointed at you. He could feel Rafe’s eyes glaring at him but he didn’t care. His focus was on you , the way your hair fell down your shoulders and framed your face. The way you had just looked so. . . grown up. He was just still so used to feeling like a teenager , like nothing was ever too serious. Nothing really mattered. You weren’t the little sixteen year old Y/N he knew. The one that made him daisy chains while smoking a joint behind John B’s house. The one who skipped school with him and make trouble on the Cut.

Things had changed and he hadn’t even been paying attention. He felt foolish.

“How am I being naive , JJ? It’s been a year since everything’s happened. He’s been doing good—”

“Do you not even remember our anniversary?” JJ said just above a whisper , clear defeat in his voice. “It’s eleven days into the month of June.”

You were taken aback at his words. They hit you like nothing had before. You were expecting alot of things , but the mere remembrance of the anniversary you two shared was not one of them. They seemed so distant to you now , the younger self of you and the weight it held. It had been a long time since things had been that way and you thought JJ had felt the same way about the situation.

But as he turned and pushed past all his friends and flew out the back door , you knew things wouldn’t ever be the same.

“ no , i don’t wanna love if it’s not you , i don’t wanna hear the wedding bells prove that we can’t try one last time. i don’t wanna hear the wedding bells. ”

“It hurts so bad.” JJ cried into Pope’s shoulder. It had been days since he’d seen you but he’d heard from other people and your decision hadn’t changed.

You were glued to Rafe’s side since. He had paraded you around the island with the ring loud and proud now that the news was out. His family were beyond happy , even if you had been a Pogue— Rafe’s change was enough to win them over. John B and Kiara weren’t fans of it , but they liked seeing you happy. And Pope did his best to support everyone.

But JJ was heartbroken. Time had left him , passed him without him even noticing. There wouldn’t be a time and a place where you were his , ever again. Marriage was deep. It planted a clear divide between you and Rafe , and you and him.

There would be no another time.

“I know.” Pope sighed , squeezing JJ’s shoulders. “But she deserves to be happy.”

“I know.” JJ sighed , feeling his heart squeeze.

“Even if it’s not with you.”

“Even if it’s not with me.”

[munson-blurbs]

We’ve Got a Secret (Dad!Eddie x Mom!Reader)

Read Part I here!

Warnings: lil bit of language, pregnancy, anxiety, weight gain, literally so much fluff your teeth will hurt

WC: 1.6k

Taglist: @dylanmunson @tayhar811

April 1992

“Babe, you ready?” Eddie calls from the living room where he’s slipping on his Dio vest. 

“No, I’m not going!” you respond back, nearly in tears.

“So I’m just supposed to tell everyone about you being pregnant...without you?” he teases gently. A frown forms on his face when he doesn’t hear you say anything; just the sound of light sniffling coming from your bedroom.

“What’s going on?” He peers in to find you laying back on the bed, struggling to close the button on your favorite jeans. “Oh, sweetheart...”

“They...don’t...fit!” you cry out, giving up and letting the tears fall. You’re only three months along, but you’ve gained a little weight, and it must be enough that your pants don’t fit anymore. “I don’t get it! They just fit last week.”

Eddie chuckles and presses a kiss to your temple, then to your pregnant belly. “You’re growing a whole human. You have to be kind to yourself.” He pauses for a moment. “Wait here.”

He rummages through the bathroom and you hear a small “a-ha!” as he closes a drawer. He holds up a hair tie in his hand triumphantly. “You can use this to keep your pants up while they’re technically unbuttoned.” You give him a confused look. “Steve told me about it,” he explains sheepishly.

“What is he, the pregnancy guru?” you ask, but you take the hair tie and it works. Your shirt is a little big, so it covers your handiwork. “Huh. Would ya look at that.”

“Now, c’mon, let’s go,” Eddie whines. “We gotta stop off at Wayne’s before dinner and tell him!” You’d already told your parents, who were ecstatic at the idea of a grandchild. Your mom called you this morning to let you know she picked up some baby clothes because she just got so excited.

Eddie holds your hand as he drives to his uncle’s house. His left leg is bouncing and he keeps looking over at you with a grin.

“He’s gonna freak out in the best way,” Eddie can’t contain his excitement. He stops at a red light and grabs your face, punctuating the kiss with an exaggerated mwah!

You giggle. “Eds, I’ve never seen Wayne do more than crack a smile. He didn’t even cry at our wedding.”

“Just you wait and see, Mama Munson,” he says. His new nickname for you fills you with giddiness and warmth. 

~

Eddie raps at the trailer door frantically. 

“Stop it! You’re gonna scare him!” you hiss. In your right hand is a small gift bag. You clutch it tightly, like it’ll float away if you don’t. “Sorry, Wayne!” you call out. “It’s just us.”

Wayne opens the door with a roll of his eyes. “What the hell is wrong with you, boy?” He pokes Eddie in the chest, but your husband just laughs.

“Sorry. Just have something for ya.” He takes the gift bag from your hand and gives it to his uncle.

“’s not my birthday...” Wayne steps back so you and Eddie can come in. Eddie takes your hand and squeezes it inconspicuously.

“Just open it!” he practically shouts. He’s just a ball of nervous energy; he’d probably be bouncing around the trailer if you weren’t holding onto him.

Wayne shoves the tissue paper aside and pulls out a mug. “Oh, good. Don’t got enough of these,” he says sarcastically.

“You have to read what it says,” you offer, watching as his eyes scan the text plastered on the front of the mug.

“World’s Best Grandpa...” he reads. It takes half a second for him to process it, and then a huge grin spreads across his face. Eddie looks at you, his facial expression screaming I told you so.

“I’m gonna...you’re--” Wayne turns to you, and you can only nod to confirm. Tears spring to your eyes and you’re 100% sure it isn’t just the hormones. “This is the happiest day of my life, and I bet it will be until that baby of yours arrives.”

“I’m due October 25. Can you wait until then?” you ask through your tears. Wayne hugs you, then grabs Eddie and hugs him too.

“You two are gonna be the best parents,” his voice catches and he clears his throat. “And whenever you need a break, just send ‘em over to Grandpa Wayne’s.”

The three of you spend a few more minutes talking about how you’ve been feeling, your plans to get a two-bedroom apartment, and potential baby names until your stomach growls embarrassingly loudly.

“Eds, looks like the baby needs to eat,” Wayne jokes, and you say your goodbyes as you scramble back into the van. 

While you were excited to tell Wayne about your pregnancy, you’re nervous to tell the “kids” (they were all in college now, but they would always be Eddie’s little sheep). What if they got upset about something taking Eddie away from them? They still met up on school breaks to play Dungeons & Dragons. Would they be upset if Eddie had to cancel because the kid had a fever?

Eddie senses your anxiety and puts his big hand on your thigh, rubbing his thumb over you. “What’s eatin’ ya, baby?”

You shake your head. “Nothing...just worried about how everyone else is gonna react, ‘s all.”

“Are you kidding me? They’re gonna lose their shit! Did you know that every time Dustin sees me, he asks me when he’s gonna be an uncle?”

“No way!” you laugh, but you know it’s the truth. 

“I’m serious!” Eddie’s laughing, too. “And I keep reminding him, ‘you’re Andy’s uncle!’ but you know that kid--it’s in one ear and out the other.”

“Sounds like Dustin,” you agree. Leaning back in your seat, you relax just a bit, though your nerves aren’t fully settled, and they won’t be until you can gauge everyone’s reaction.

~

Everyone’s at Steve and Nancy’s when you arrive. Dustin, Lucas, and Max are chasing after Andy, who never seems to run out of energy. It makes you wonder how much chaos your little one is going to cause. Will, Mike, and Eleven are helping Steve with dinner, while Nancy is setting the places at the dining room table.

She gives you a knowing smile. Eddie had to tell Steve that he was right, that you are pregnant, and Steve told Nancy--and Robin, who wasn’t able to make it tonight, but had called you as soon as she heard the news.

“All right; dinner’s ready!” Steve calls, pulling a pan of roast chicken out of the oven. Mike brings over the salad, Will grabs the rice, and El grabs a few bottles of salad dressing from the fridge.

“No marinara sauce,” Steve whispers to you teasingly. You mouth thanks and sit down next to Eddie. As soon as everyone else is seated, Eddie clears his throat.

“Before you all start boring us to death with your complaints about midterms and roommates, I just want to let you know that there will be a new member of Hellfire joining us for future games,” he starts. 

Mike looks up worriedly, always concerned about newcomers in the group. “What? Who is he?”

“How are you so sure it’s a guy, Mike?” Max shoots back, getting a giggle from El.

“How many girls do you know who are trying to join Hellfire?” he retorts and turns back to Eddie. “When is he starting?”

“Probably around October,” Eddie answers before Lucas cuts him off this time.

“October? Why is he gonna take so long?”

“Damn, Sinclair. We don’t want this baby coming too early.” you pipe up from your seat. Eddie runs his fingers through your hair.

“FINALLY!” Dustin jumps up, nearly knocking over his glass of water. He shoots Nancy and apologetic glance before continuing. “This is gonna be the most metal kid ever!”

“Wait, can we throw you a Dungeons & Dragons themed baby shower?” Will asks. He joined Hellfire after moving back to Hawkins, and Eddie quickly accepted him into the group.

“That sounds awesome. Just nothing too scary,” you reply with a smile. Will nods, and you can basically see the wheels turning in his head. He’s always been the most creative of the bunch.

“Is it a boy or a girl?” asks Eleven.

“We want to be surprised,” Eddie answers. He pushes a lock of hair behind his ear, making his beaming smile even more visible.

“This kid definitely needs a Hellfire onesie,” Lucas adds, and Dustin nods in a agreement.

You turn to Mike. “What do you think, Wheeler?” Mike has been the most resistant to you. When Eddie told them he was proposing to you, Mike asked him if he was still going to play with them.

Mike smiles, melting your worry. “I think he--or she--will need a Hellfire blanket, too.”

You stand up to give him a hug, and everyone else joins in.

“Careful! Don’t squish the baby!” Dustin says suddenly, which sends everyone into a fit of laughter.

~

After dinner, you and Eddie head home. The pregnancy fatigue, combined with the high emotions of the day, leave you exhausted. You’re yawning in the passenger seat as Eddie talks to you.

“You feeling better now, sweetheart?”

You grab his right hand, which is resting on the gearshift, and squeeze it tight. “You know how they say it takes a village to raise a child? Well, we have the best village there is.”

“That we do, baby,” Eddie brings your hand to his lips and kisses it. “That we do.”

--

PLEASE reblog and reply! I love seeing your feedback and thoughts :)

[littletrippyyhippyy]

Request 💙

neteyam and human reader pretend not to know each other publicly but secretly fuck each other at night

Oh myyy I like this one hehe cuz it can go several ways and I think I like my way the best 🤭 this one is really short but I’m writing a longer blurb that goes along with this so I hope this is good for now 💙

It all started with Neteyam. I know damn well the two of you would play around and be mean about it. “Who is this human?” He’d ask. Looking at you with the most disgusting face ever. He’d even give you the silent treatment - act like you can’t talk back to him.

Even though the both of you knew it was all play - Neteyam would fuck you stupid for taking it too far. “Eywa could have made that blue face at least a little bit cute - don’t ya think?” You’d tell Kiri - loud enough for him to hear. He’d get so angry over your silly words.

Those were the times Neteyam would use you as he pleased. Fuck you in ways you never thought possible. And today was one of those days. Stupid little you took it too far once again - pushing all of Neteyams buttons.

His thick cock would fill your sweet little pussy so good. You didn’t think he’d fit but Neteyam made damn sure he did. He had your face pressed down in the soft grass - your ass in the air as he fucked you from behind. You were so little under him - his large blue hands on both sides of your hips.

“Neteyam, please” was all you could say. “please please please” The sound of sweaty skin hitting each other was pornographic - not forgetting the sounds that came out of each of your mouths.

“This is what happens when you act stupid. Stupid girls get taught a lesson” Neteyam breathed out - still going in and out of you quickly. It hurt but felt so good. He couldn’t get enough of his little humans pussy.

Some nights you’d sneak into his hut - dressed in the skimpiest clothes you’d manage to find. He’d get hard the moment you walked in - mouth watering like he was going to devour you.

“Hi Teyam” you’d say sweetly as you made your way into his hut - smiling all cute like the happiest girl in the world. He’d get flustered - not know what to say as he watched your barely clothed body walk towards him. “My y/n - what are you wearing?” He’d ask but he knew you were doing it on purpose. Teasing him.

You always did this the days you needed each other the most. Teasing him all day - knowing the two of you couldn’t do anything until late that night. Some days the both of you were willing to risk it all - but somehow managed to keep it a secret.

Neteyam would hate seeing you with other men. Wanting to walk over and claim you - tell them to leave his y/n alone. But he knew he couldn’t, which ate him up inside.

“You feel so good, my y/n” he’d tell you that night. Letting you know you were his - only his. “You belong to me” He’d say as he held your body against his - his cock deep inside you. He filled you up so good - perfect that no other pussy could compare. You were only his and always will be.

[truebluehue]

ahhhhhhh! Jake sully with a pregnant mate. She'll just be all pouty and teary eyed due to hormones and just won't leave him alone. Sometimes she'll follow him around while he's doing his olo'eyktan duties and just sit there all sad untill he touches her in anyway. Sometimes she wants to cuddle, sometimes she wants him to lift her bump, sometimes her hormones are a bit crazy...She'll just be really clingy the whole pregnancy and emotional tbh 💀

sorry im late. had to get smokes. please take this drabble as an apology.

A small look into pregnant life with Jake.

Jake was the happiest man alive when you told him you were pregnant. The love of his life pregnant with a possible miniature you? How could he not be ecstatic! And Jake would do anything for you. All you had to do was ask. So when you randomly walked up to him with a pout, he was ready to start a war for you. “Ma’Jake, there is something I want to try but I need your help.” You stand next to him, rubbing your stomach in soft circles.

Jake immediately pauses what he was doing and rushes to stand. “What is it? Is it a craving? Is your back hurting?”

“Mawey. Stand behind me please. Good. Now,” you put his hands under your stomach, “lift gently.”  For the next 20 minutes Jake just holds up your stomach, content to just hold his whole world in his hands. 

But not every moment is this easy. Cravings? Jake is already hunting it down. Aches? Massaged away. But the clinginess is something he’s not used to, and apparently it’s his fault? “You seem more stressed when you can't see me. You’re protective of us.” You say during dinner one night. “Why stress the both of us.”

And yes maybe Jake does wake up sometime just to make sure you and the baby are okay.

Or he finds a way to bring you with him during his olo'eyktan duties.

Or tries to hunt as fast as he can to return.

He just wants to protect his little fortress. Even though that fortress currently gives him emotional whiplash.

“NOTHING FITS.” You try on and toss nearly every piece of clothing you own. You only calm when you find that ONE last loincloth that fits your bump. Jake doesn’t mention that it was actually his.

“Everything hurts and it's your fault. Though i do still love you.” Jake can only watch as you waddle away.

“Would you love me as a worm?”

“No.” 

“But what if I was a hot worm?”

“Worms aren’t hot.”

Sniffles can be heard. “But you told me you’d love me no matter what!”

Sighs. “I’ll still love you as a worm, but there will be boundaries.”

All in all, Jake wouldn’t trade his life for the world.

[fieldofdaisiies]

𝙰𝚖𝚊𝚣𝚒𝚗𝚐 - 𝙰𝚣𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚕 𝚡 𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

Happiest birthday you wonderful, wonderful human @moonlightazriel. I wrote this little drabble for you, to once again remind you how amazing you are, knowing you often don't see it yourself. I love you so very much and hope you have the best day 💛💛💛

Slowly Velaris, its buildings, its inhabitants, the streets, the trees and the River Sidra start to grow smaller and smaller the further you lift into the sky. A cool breeze touches your skin, your face and blows your hair around a little. You find yourself closing your eyes, leaning against Azriel, as he carries you into the open sky, large wings flapping behind his back. 

All is so good in this moment, so peaceful and quiet. It is perfect, it is just you and Azriel. He is your mate, your equal, he makes you complete and his unconditional love for you is one of the most beautiful things that there is in this world. 

These moments in the air is all you sometimes need. When everything gets too much, these moments help you clear the whirlwind of thoughts in your mind, help you come to ease with your mind and yourself. 

When you open your eyes again after a few moments of silence, you notice that Azriel's expression is tight, his jaw tense — something must be on his mind. 

"What are you thinking about?" you ask in a soft voice, eyes trailing over your mate's features. 

He turns his head a little, only looking at you momentarily as he needs to keep his gaze on your surroundings, ensuring your safety while flying. 

"That somehow you are the only person who does not see how amazing you are," Azriel finally says, no bitterness but only a hint of sadness in his voice. 

Your eyes widen, heart skipping a beat. 

"I don't understand it. You are so amazing, so kind, so wonderful and so incredibly smart, and still I find you doubting yourself over and over again." "Azriel…" "No!" he says, meeting your gaze briefly. "You think Rhysand would let you work for him if he didn't see your potential, your talent, your skills?"

"I—" "He would not. Just like me, all of the others so what you are capable of, and still you won't see it. And this hurts me, it hurts me that you don't believe in yourself."

"I never meant to hurt you, I just…I don't know." You turns your gaze away as well, pulling your lower lip between your teeth.

"I did not mean it in that way. You are not hurting me in that sense of the word, also this is not about me." Azriel's voice is a little softer now, empathetic. 

He holds you tightly in his arms, his solid chest a comforting press against your side. 

You are nearing a forest now, the sun is bright and high up in the sky, its strays falling onto the tree tops. Azriel, holding tightly onto you, flys a little loop before getting back on course. 

"Why is it so hard for you to see how amazing you are?"

You shrug — you don't have an answer. It just is difficult. "I don't know, I just find it hard to accept. I haven't received that many compliments in my life so far, not many people have found the things I do amazing, so accepting all of it, the kind words and praises, now is somehow I never learned to do."

"Oh, baby," Azriel squeezes you tightly, leaning in, so he can kiss the top of your head. "But you are receiving these compliments, that are 100% sincere now. And I think you should finally start believing them, huh?"

"I am trying to. I really am…" You finally lift your gaze again, meeting his for a moment. 

"Are you?"

"Yes! Or at least, I will try from now on, good?"

"Good, and you know what?"

You smile, waiting for what he wants to add. "I am proud of you for trying. You are so wonderful, and you deserve all good things and love and happiness the most out of everyone."

You feel your cheeks warm, and quickly bury your face in his chest. "Azriel, I am blushing."

"Good, I love it when you do, makes you look even more adorable than usual. My beautiful mate." Azriel grins from one ear to the other, carrying you over the beautiful landscape of the Night Court.

He lowers his head and draws in you scent, relishing in the smell of his mate, of you, the best scent in the whole entire world, like a fresh breath of air, and the only thing he needs to survive.

You chuckle loudly, a grin spreading over your face. "I love you so much, my mate."

The shadowsinger squeezes you anew. "I am sure I love you more. So much that words can't even express how much I love you." Azriel glances at the distance for a moment longer before finally looking back at you. "My stunning, wonderful, intelligent mate. The light in my life, the reason for my happiness. You are mine and I know that I am the luckiest male to have you as my mate."

~~~~~~~~ tags (crossed-out I couldn't tag) : @juulle987 @marimorena06 @danikasthings @younxii@nightcourtwritings @mrofontaine @lunalilyf @whor-3-crux @tired-all-the-time @anni-was-here @ummmmmwat @azbracadabra @j-pendragonx @hollyismentallyillhelp @famousbasementpainter @bsenpai @lena-davina @red-highlady @thesugatoyourtae @azrielsbabyg @aroseinvelaris @moony-thoughts @wrensical003 @cherryjain17 @moonfawnx @crushedcloudsx @devilsfoodcake22  @valeridarkness @azrielscertifiedslut @mulansaucey @cynicalpotato95 @hanasakr @high-bi-andreadytocry @eerievixen @feyretopia @moonlightazriel @randomness-it-is @brekkershadowsinger @eliieee23 @girasoli-e-sorrisi @illyrianvalkyriecarynthian  @kennedy-brooke @highladyofillyria @theworthlessqueen @marina468 @topaz125 @illyrian-dreamer @azriels-mate123 @eos-princess @courtofjurdan @a-frog-with-a-laptop @insufferablebookaddict

[ithebookhoarder]

Marc and Steven with a Murdock? Like Daredevil?? If you want, of course ❤️🖤

The Moon Boys with a Murdock!Reader

A/N: Of course I want to! 😆 I'm only sorry it took me so long to answer this. However, I seem to be on a roll today - I can't believe I've got two requests out?! Like, who even am I?

Masterlist

As you said with a Murdock, I’m going with a sibling vibe here which would be pretty adorable anyway as Matt would be such a good brother if he’d ever had the chance.

He would be incredibly close with you and take his role as your protector as seriously as he takes his role as the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen. 

You’re the only one he lets know his true self as you’ve been through everything he has. You’ve shared the happiest and saddest moments of your lives together and the bond it forged is as strong as vibranium.

It holds you both together, not matter what you go through or where you end up - including when you both end up at colleges on opposite sides of the country. 

You’re extremely careful to never let him pull too far away from you, even when he gets in one of his moods. In fact, you’re sure to turn up and let yourself in to his apartment when he goes too quiet and even Foggy can’t seem to pull him out of the darkness that haunts him. 

It’s why you don’t run away when the Moon Boys come crashing in to your lives. The chaos that seems to follow them and their fears that they are too much for you is honestly familiar. Every attempt to push you away only makes you draw nearer - first as a friend, later as something more. 

You’d probably meet Moon Knight first around New York. I mean, it's kind of hard not to come across him, given what Matt does and how chaos seems to find its way into your lives.

He'd be the latest adoptee into the Defenders / New York 'Avengers reject club' (your name for the gang, not theirs...) so you'd quickly end up involved in each other's lives.

You'd bond pretty quickly, once you get to know one another without the personas and danger. After all, I think Steven would be eager to find friends who aren't necessarily supers and just like to drink coffee, read novels and go to the dog park at the weekend.

He'd be super keen to get to know you. You're one of the only people who get what their life is like, but also have a foot in the real world.

You'd win over Marc later on, wearing him down with your positivity and unwavering optimism (and also Steven will not shut up about you).

You're not afraid of the darker parts of their world, and become a much needed safe space for Marc, once he lets his guard down.

For instance, you'd be great at patching him up - having had enough practise on Matt over the years. You're also used to having someone nocturnal in the house, coming and going at all hours of the night. Plus, you can obviously be trusted to keep a secret or two.

If anything, Marc's only reluctant to let you get close to him as he doesn't want to taint you. To ruin something so bright and wonderful by dragging you into his darkness.

If Matt's ok with putting you in danger, then that's up to him as your brother. You're family. But for Marc and Steven to do that? It's a line they're unwilling to cross... until you prove to them you aren't going anywhere. That you can handle yourself and that you're already in this mess anyway, so why shouldn't you both be happy?

From that moment on, there's no looking back for any of you. You're leaping in to this together head first, and soon enough you can't imagine life any other way.

Matt, however, can.

Let's be real, he wouldn’t be the biggest fan of Steven and Marc. In fact, he’d be pretty against your relationship the minute he finds out about it. 

One, because he thinks no one is worthy of you.

Two, because he hates the idea of you getting hurt or being in danger and being in a relationship with multiple people who all serve an ancient Egyptian deity as his personal vigilante is the very definition of dangerous. 

"I... I can't even begin to understand how you could possibly think this is a good idea? At all? He - they - are literally the puppets of an Egyptian god - a GOD, Y/N. You don't want to get in the middle of all that?"

You quickly remind him how he gave a similar speech to Karen when he found out about her and Frank Castle seeing each other, and that didn't work. Last time you checked, they're still blissfully in love.

"Besides, Matthew! You're the one who goes running around at night, getting in fights, wearing a glorified halloween costume. Like, I am the SANE sibling here. ALSO! Marc and Steven were forced into their situation. They didn't go looking for it like a crazy nut job. So, yeah. I think if anything, you don't have a leg to stand on here!"

Matt would be able to sense who was fronting the moment they appeared. He’d be able to recognise them from the way their heart is beating and their mannerisms the second they stepped through the door, which is helpful but also incredibly unsettling. 

Steven would brush it off, seeing it as Matt just being a kind brother to you. However, I think Marc would have more of a problem with Matt’s hostility, and enhanced senses. It puts him on edge to know they are being so closely scrutinised. 

They also have the same temperament so I can imagine there will be more than a few clashes in the beginning, their similar brusque natures making it hard for them to not bump heads. 

However, after Matt learns about Marc’s DID and his childhood trauma I think he’d be more sympathetic. After all, you both didn’t have the easiest childhood either. 

He also knows what it’s like to live with a condition that can make your life harder but also makes you unique. 

According to the comics, both of them are known to be good detectives and also keen boxers. I can totally see them building a reluctant respect for one another after they realise they have more in common than just their love for you. 

In fact, I know you’d have to pull them out of the ring after Marc agrees to a sparring match with the famous ‘Devil’. The pair of them would get a weird pleasure from trying to beat the other to a pulp - they don’t often find someone evenly matched to have a friendly bout or two with. 

At least it would once again prove to Matt that your boys could definitely take care of you if you ever needed it. 

Matt would definitely be sure to offer his legal advice whenever he’s concerned you both might be skating on thin ice with the law. Apparently, ‘I’m being controlled by an Ancient Egyptian God’ hasn’t ever been tried as a legal defence in the American justice system before… and Matt is oddly willing to try it. 

[p0ssywhippedcream]

Could you possibly do a canon Captain Levi Ackerman x cadet reader enemies to lovers fic please?? Preferably where the reader is injured and her Captain has to look after her. Plenty of the feels would be appreciated haha. I love your writing btw :)

Hi lovebug! Id love to, thank you so much <3

~.~.~.~.~.~

“How could you be so foolish?” Levi berates you, his tone completely opposite his gentle hands as they bandage your arm.

“I mean I told you how dangerous the mission was, you knew how dangerous it was! And you went on your own anyway?”

You’d given up explaining your behavior at this point, resolving to keep your eyes glued to the hole in the floorboards.

“Y/n,” He sighs, “You could’ve jeopardized our entire mission. You need to be more careful with these things.”

You nod pathetically. There’s silence for a moment as your heart aches. If you’d ever had a chance of him returning your feelings, that had been kicked out and spat on.

“Thank you.” You offer.

His hands pause as his eyes search your face. You mean it, you’re a terrible liar.

“You’re welcome.” He resumes wrapping the bandage until it’s tight then secures it.

“Do you ever-” You stop and make a face.

“Do I ever what, cadet?”

“Do you ever look at the stars?”

You’ve caught him off guard, his face shifts for just a moment before recovering it’s facade.

“Sure. Why?”

You shrug and poke at your arm.

“I don’t know. Sometimes I wonder if this is all it is to it.”

Levi gets what you mean, but he ignores that familiar feeling.

“Do you have any other injuries?”

You pull up your shirt slowly to reveal a nasty gash on your stomach, hissing through your teeth as the cold air hits it. He pretends to be unaffected but his nose wrinkles in sympathy.

After a second of him cleaning a wound, he replies to your earlier statement.

“I do too. Sometimes.”

You look up at his face, horribly hardened and focused on only looking at your torso. Then you laugh and shake your head.

“Feels like a bad joke, doesn’t it? Of all the cards we could’ve been dealt, we get this hand.”

He agrees and wonders for a second what made you so hurt all the time. He’ll never admit it, but your strength in the face of life is admirable. The fact that you still hold onto yourself even through all the pain is impressive.

“Someday,” You continue, “Someday, I’ll have a daughter and by the time she’s my age, the world will have given her every good thing she wants. And she’ll be the happiest woman you’ve ever seen. One of those girls who carries flowers in her pockets everywhere and laughs a little too loud in pubs. She’ll be good.”

You sound like you’re talking about the past, reminiscing on something you’ve lost yourself. Levi considers that you might be talking about yourself, he wished he could have known you when you gave out flowers. He’d like to have had one from you.

“If she’s as reckless as her mother, she’ll be dead before she can do all that.”

You snort and wince when you remember your pain.

“She’ll be smarter than i’ll ever be. She’ll have a really smart father.”

He notices the way you look at him and crushes the thought of looking back at you.

“She ought to. She needs someone with sense in her life.”

“He has enough sense to make up for my lack.”

Levi’s eyes find yours for the first time tonight and he sees a future in them. A beautiful future he wants to be apart of. He could get lost in there and never return.

“Does he?” His heart skips a beat.

“He does. Smartest man I know.” You agree with shining pupils.

[actual-greenninja]

I DONT WANT TO HURT YOU GUYS THE SAME WAY HE HURT ME

Genya x fem reader (angst to fluff, modern au)

**cw: yelling, arguing, harsh treatment (he apologizes) swearing, mentions of abuse, comfort**

______________________________________

Synopsis

After 4 years of dating the two of you get married and start a family together consisting of 2 four year old boys and 1 two year old girl. The little family you guys started together mean the world to Genya, and he wouldn't want to do anything to harm you guys, especially in the same way his father harmed him and his mother and siblings.Recently he has been working later than usual and his boss and co workers are driving him insane with their constant demands of him. Today he arrives home at 8 at night extremely angry. He has an out burst at you and the two of you get into a fight which lead to him grabbing your fore arm and handling you harshly while yelling at you. You're 2 Sons come running in, yelling, begging him to stop, he then realised what he was doing and now he can't even look at you or his son's the same.

★Author's note: this is my first ever fic, im purely writing this to get it out of my head, sorry if my English isn't great, it is my first language im just not any good lol. Sorry if I didn't really write Genya well, it's my first time writing him. I love arguement angsty fics and I love my boy Genya. Not proof read sorry

______________________________________

He didn't mean it, he swears he didn't mean it.

He didn't mean to make you cry,he didn't mean to make his son's cry, he wants to blame it on his childhood, watching his father beat up his mother and siblings almost every day must of made him think his actions were okay in the moment, but he knew that there was no excuse. He hurt you.

Things at home recently haven't been the best in terms of the relationship between you and your adoring husband, Genya Shinazugawa. The man who you have been in love with for almost 8 years now. The man you dated throughout your college years. The man who you said yes to, tears streaming down your eyes without a second thought when he proposed to you the night he took you out to the prettiest resort you had ever seen, the man who helped you and cared for you while you were pregnant with his twin boys and later his beautiful baby girl. The man who swore to make you and your children the happiest he could.

For the past two weeks you could tell that things at work haven't been going too well for Genya. He often woke up extra early, leaving you alone in bed and leaving almost immediately for work. Some mornings he won't even shyly kiss you on the forehead goodbye like he usually does, he just gets dressed and leaves you at home to take care of your loud 4 year olds and crying 2 year old. The day would go on as it usually does except now Genya gets home later than usual, sometimes it would already be dark long before he arrives home only to tiredly greet you, quickly eat the dinner you kept for him, sit with your children if they weren't already asleep and then go to bed a bit upset. It hurt you to see him upset all the time when you did get to see him, noticing how he isn't nearly as affectionate with you as he use to be. What hurt more was that your son's were starting to realize that their father didn't have time to them, making them feel like they weren't important to him, which was furthest from the truth. Today wasn't any different.

"Mommy... Psst! Mommy, wake up!"

You're eyes started to flutter tiredly, a heavy weight causing pain to your stomach. When you finally gain consciousness you find one of you twin sons sitting on your stomach with you in bed. You say tiredly "Hey, baby, what are you doing up this early?" He smiles at you with a toothy grin, showing of his little gapped teeth. "I dunno, I jus' wanna sleep with you, mommy!" You smile softly at how cute he is. You rest your hand on his cheek, his purple eyes resembling his father's shining bright at you. "Alright then, but first, where's your brother? Is he up aswell" you ask with a tired smile, a little worried that his brother may be catching up to something. Just before your question can be answered you here loud crying that came from the nursery. Your daughter must have woken up. Suddenly the cries grow closer and closer to your bedroom and before you know it your other son is running into the room with his little sister in his arms, clearly struggling to carry her weight with his small arms. He yells, panicked "Mommy! Mommy! Sissy won't stop crying! I just came to her cot and she started crying when she saw me!!" He now had tears in his own eyes, the thought of him making his beloved sister cry makes him feel terrible. You jump out of bed and take her out of your son's arms. You kiss him on the forehead before trying to calm down your daughter "Don't worry, bub. She was just crying because she missed you so much! Thank you for bringing her to me but next time just call me, alright?" You say, calming your son down. He sniffles "okay mommy, I will" he says with a faint smile.

After calming all your children down you take them to the kitchen and make your children each bowls of soft porridge for them to eat while on the couch where all four of you watched "The Goofy Movie" for the hundredth time in a row. You all sat peacefully watching, your daughter in your lap and your son's each leaning on one of your sides. The scene came on where Goofy and his son, Max are in their car on a road trip. You watched, a little bored as you practically memorised the whole script by now. That is until one of your son's tug on your pajama shirt.

He looks up at you with his sad purple eyes. You look at him, confused

"Hey, bub. What's with the face, don't you like the movie? Or is your porridge tasting weird?" You ask, trying to mask your worry. He shakes his head and speaks with a sad tone "Mommy, why doesn't Daddy love us like Goofy and Max?" With that your heart absolutely shatters. There's no way he thinks his father doesn't love him!? You rub his head with your thumb. Before you say anything your other son chimes in, sounding more upset "Yeah! Why doesn't Daddy love us anymore!? Does he not like us..?" You are now feeling frantic. Where is all this coming from? How long have they thought this!? You finally speak up, trying to hide your tears from escaping your eyes, you were feeling way too hurt by their words. "Guys, Daddy loves you! He loves you all so so much... He loves you and will never stop loving you... Why do you think he doesn't..?" You ask with worry, holding your children closer to you. One of your son's says in a sad tone, "But, Daddy doesn't play with us anymore... Daddy is never here with us..." He says, tears in his eyes. "Yeah! He doesn't play with us anymore. He leaves us all the time. He leaves mommy all the time too!" Your other son yells, feeling more upset and hurt by the realisation. Your heart is torn to shreds and you don't know what to feel. Sad that they think this, angry at your husband for not spending enough time with his family,or angry at yourself for not realizing these things sooner. You speak up with pain in your voice "No, no, no Daddy loves you guys, he loves all of us, he's just been busy with work!" You try reassuring them but you can see the four year olds aren't convinced with such an explanation. You sigh and say calmly "Ok guys, why don't we go out for ice cream and later when Daddy is home later, I'll talk to him about playing with you guys more.. how does that sound?" You ask with a weak smile, hoping that ice cream will make them forget about this whole thing for a while. Your son's eyes light up, as if the whole conversation before never happend "Ice cream! Ice cream" the boys chanted happily, making your daughter giggle in your arms. You smile at their sudden change in mood but you still feel a pool in your stomach.

Why the hell would they think such a terrible thing about their father? It's not their fault at all, but still, how could you let this happen? How could Genya let this happen? You felt anger bubbling in your chest. A mix of anger and sadness. You knew you had to talk to Genya about this, but every night you tried talking to him in the past about spending more time with his family he would just brush you off and tell you that " your being dramatic, im trying but they just won't let me catch a break at work" and end it at that. You weren't gonna let that happen tonight though. You were going to confront Genya about his behaviour and how it has been affecting you and the children.

_______________________________________________________

The evening started making its way into the sky, the bright blues from earlier fading into a mix of orange and red hues throughout the sky , clouds reappearing and taking form above. You had just finished making dinner for you and your children where they now sat on the floor of their bedroom playing with their toys that you and Genya had gifted them for their birthdays. You were now washing the dishes peacefully by yourself before you heard the door open and be slammed shut. Just by that noise you could tell that Genya just had a bad day at work. Has got to be as every time you texted him before today he wouldn't even read them nor answer them.

Genya huffed as he walked in, immediately taking of his tie and blazer, placing them on the counter. You smile at him softly, drying your hand and making your way to your husband. You kiss him on the cheek and smile up at him, glad that you get to him for the first time today.

"Hey,love, how was work? We missed you!" You say cheerfully. On any other day he would have smiled, kissed you back with a light blush and say that he missed you guys too and call for his boys to run to him and hug them tightly. Today however, he clearly wasn't in the mood, answering you with a grunt and saying in a tired, annoyed voice " Yeah, yeah, missed you too..". It was clear there wasn't any meaning behind his words and that made you feel hurt. Your two sons come running into the kitchen and run into Genya's legs happily. They look up at their father with big toothy smiles. "Daddy! We missed you! Come play with us!" They say excitedly. Genya bends down to hug his boys tiredly. He says in a forced sad tone as he hugged them. "Daddy missed you boys too, sorry guys but daddies tired so he can't play today..."

The two boys let go of their father, the one looking sad while the other looked a little upset. They both nodded and left the room without saying another word. This was the last straw for you, your heart couldn't take it anymore. Genya makes his way to the couch in the living room. He sits down tiredly, his hand in his messy mohawk cut hair, he sighed, he clearly just wanted to fall asleep right there, but you didn't let him. You took a seat next to him, you looked at him with eyes of sadness.

"Genya, love, we need to talk..." You start off, concern painting your voice. He sighs, he sounds very annoyed at your request. He looks at you with a slight glare "Can't it wait til tomorrow, can't 'ya see im not in the mood?" He snarls. You haven't seen Genya talk to you like this ever, he is usually soft with you, if he didn't want to talk he would ask politely if you could keep this for later, not snarl at you like this. You stand your ground though, not wanting to get intimidated by his annoyed state. You speak up firmly "No, we need to talk now. Look at me, it's important." He is upset by your firmness and sits up. He looks at you dead in the eye and says, his voice coated with venom, "I said im not in the mood. If it's about me being at work to much then im not fucking listening,ok?" He says angrily. His attitude towards you was making you more upset aswell. " Well can you blame me for wanting to talk about it!? It isn't good that your not at home anymore, it's affecting you and it's affecting this family!" You say forcefully,you were getting tired of all of this, you knew it wasn't exactly his fault, but right now you didn't care. He looks at you with disbelief,he was angry now, and thanks to him being at work all day,he was too tired to even think straight. He yells at you, his purple eyes piercing into you. "The fuck, you want to tell at me for wanting to provide for our family!? Are you fucking stupid or something!?" He gets up from the couch to stand and look down on you, adrenaline pumping through his veins. "What an ungrateful bitch do you have to be to think this shit!? Especially when I see you aren't doing anything for this damn family!" He yells, anger filling him. He has never yelled like this, he swore that he wouldn't. That night where he was crying into your arms 2 weeks after your wedding night. He cried saying that he never wants to hurt or even yell at you, after what he saw his father do to his mom he was traumatized. His screams still ringing through his ears. You held him closely, telling him that he will never be like his father. He promised you that he will never do anything to harm you, yet here we are.

You two kept yelling at eachother, the screams only growing louder. You scream at him, tears flowing through your eyes at this point. "Atleast our children have someone they can turn to, and doesn't push them away all the fucking time!I Amy not be out earning money but atleast I show my children the love they deserve out of a parent, what have you been doing!?" You didn't mean those things, but at the same time you meant every word. Genya's eyes widen. If you thought he was pissed before, now you've really done it. He made his way to you and grabbed your forearm tightly, making you wince at the pain.You struggle, trying to get him to let you go only for him to grip you tighter.

"TAKE THAT BACK, FUCKING TAKE IT BACK UNLESS YOU WANT TO SEE WHAT IM GONNA DO TO YOU"

He yells, his head foggy with rage at this point. He never intended to hurt you, but he wanted you to fear him for saying that he doesn't provide his children the love they need, the children he loved with all his heart. He kept swearing, telling you to take it back, but you stayed silent, the pain he was enforcing on your arm being to much. Your eyes had tears streaming down your face and you yelled overs and overs for him to let go. Before the arguement can escalate any further you here a high pitched yell come from the hallway. It was your son, he looked furious yet he had tears streams Ng down his eyes. He was trembling, his little hands balled up into small fists.

"STOP HURTING MOMMY YOU MONSTER!"

he yelled, he ran to Genya's leg and started punching it with all he had, his punches not causing any physical harm to Genya. Genya's eyes widen, his vision finally clearing from all his anger. Genya's eyes are still wide as he takes in the scene he created. His son was trying to beat him off while the woman he loved with all his heart was crying desperately trying to get out of his grasp. He let go of you and your first instinct was to run to your son and hold him to get him to stop. You try to stop your crying as you held him tightly to stop him from trying to fight his father. He finally let his little fist free to hug you tightly, crying into the crook of your neck. All Genya could hear were the sniffles coming from the two of you. He fucked up. He desperately fucked up. After some silence your son spoke up in a broken little voice. He spoke Inbetween cries " S-see. Mommy- I said- I said that - daddy h-hates us!"

Genya's heart shattered. He finally understood what you were so desperately trying to explain to him. His own son, the son who he cried for when him and his brother were born. The boy that he held with his brother every night when he was a baby. The boy who said "daddy" as his first word. The boy who was crying Infront of him, thinking that he, his own father, hated him. Genya started to panic, the scene felt so fimiliar to him, and it made his heart ache. This exact thing happend when he was younger, but he had his siblings to help him through it aswell. Here, his son had no one. Genya then noticed his other son, holding his sister, cowering in the hallway, crying with his confused sister in his hands. It reminded Genya of himself, how he cowered with his siblings while Sanemi tried beating their father off their mother. He was his father in this situation, Genya was acting how his father would and the fact tore him apart. How did he even get here, what was he thinking? He's afraid he wasn't thinking at all, and because of him not thinking he now hurt his family. He hurt you.

Tears were streaming down Genya's face. All he wanted to do was take you all into his embrace, kiss you all on the forehead as he usually does and keep you guys safe from the world, but how can he do that now? He harmed you... If anything, someone should be protecting you all from him. But he loved you guys he loved you guys more than himself. All he could do was stand and watch you guys,crying softly. After some time he finally musters up softly, his voice breaking.

"Im so sorry... Im so so sorry.... I didn't... I-"

He was stuttering, trying to think of the right words. You didn't even pay him a single glance, all your attention on your children crying in your arms. You finally stood up with a weak smile. you held your daughter in your arms and your son held your hand while the other was holding his brothers hand. You said in a strained voice,

"come on guys, Why don't I sleep with you all together in your room?"

Genya's eyes widened at this, he choked out, tears still falling from his eyes. "WAIT! P-please, can we talk..? Please, love, Im sorry.. to all of you" he choked on his sobs, Genya looked pathetic like this. It broke your heart but you knew he deserved this. You gave him one final glance before taking your children to their room. Genya was crying, swearing at himself, how is he such an idiot? What was wrong with him? He didn't want to hurt you guys. He needed to see you, he needed to hold you, he needed to explain to you, but what would he even explain? That he is a complete asshole who doesn't deserve his own family's love? He didn't know

"Fuck... What is wrong with you... Weak piece of shit... You are acting- no, no I can't be... Shit, im acting exactly like him"

All he knew he could do was wait until the children are asleep, then, maybe he could talk to you... Then if you will let him, he can talk to his children too, and apologize for this whole mess. He wanted to tell you guys how much he loved you all, he wanted to hold his sons as he did when they were babies. He wanted his daughter to look up at him with that cute smile of hers. But after all this... He....

He chokes out another sob. He walked himself to your shared bedroom and waited, hoping that you will walk in hold him like you always would.

____________________________________________________

The hours go by and before you know it, it's 12 in the morning. You talked with your children, calming them down and put them to sleep.You wanted to go to Genya and forget about this whole thing, just have things go back to normal. But you knew you couldn't... Could you ever after this? You look down at your fore arm, it was red from how Genya handled you. After the children were sound asleep you quietly left the room. You walked to your shared bedroom, you crack the door open to see Genya laying in bed, his back facing the door. He was hunched up in the bed, you could hear the sobs coming from the bed you two shared. He was holding the pillow you slept with, burying his face into it. The whole scene was making you feel sick inside, should you even feel bad? Is it bad that you feel bad for him?

You knocked before letting yourself in. He jumps up to see you, your eyes swollen and your cheeks flushed. He is so happy to see you, yet the tears fall more than before. He wants to get up and hug you but he restrains himself, he knows he doesn't deserve it.

"(y/n)...?" He says quietly. You look at him emotionlessly and take a seat onto the bed next to him. The two of you sit in silence, not knowing what to say. There was so much to say yet you couldn't think of anything, I mean, where do you even start? You finally say quietly. "Do you finally see why I want you to spend more time with us..? The boys... They think you hate us.." you hear another choked sob come out from Genya. His hand in his hair. "IM SORRY" he squeaks out in-between cries "I see what you mean now... I don't know how I haven't realised.." You look at him, your own tears threatening to spill, but you stay strong. You say in a soft voice."Don't cry, do you really think you deserve to?" His eyes widen, he stops his crying immediately, you were right, he didn't deserve to....

"Genya.... Why? Why all of this..? What were you thinking?" You ask him in a cold tone of voice. He can't even look at you. He says quietly, his voice shaking. "I don't know... I have no excuse for this. Things at work have just been frustrating lately and it's been pissing me off.Then I took it out on you-" he nearly starts to cry again but he restrains himself." Im Sorry. I don't deserve the forgiveness of you or our children but im sorry. And please... Tell the boys that I don't hate them, fuck, I love them, I love all three of them, and I love you, more than anything.." He swallows his sobs and looks at your arm, now red and slightly bruised. "Shit... I did that to you..? I hurt you like that." His breathing gets faster. Everything starts to blur, he couldn't handle this,he cried, speaking to himself,

"I promised I'd never be like him... I promised you I'd never be like him... What the fuck, why am I like him, why am I an abusive dick , and to the people I love more than myself" he starts to spiral and it got too much for you. You cup his cheek and make him look up at you, you wipe his tears away and try to reassure him "Genya, what you did today was inexcusable, but Genya,my love, you are nothing like your father." Your own tears started to spill from your eyes, "I know you love us, and I know how much you try just to see us happy. And I know you didn't mean to hurt any of us, your father can't say he did any of these things but you can. Genya please, don't say you're like your father because you aren't. You are kind, and sweet and..-" You are now crying, who were you kidding, you could never bring yourself to be cold to him, he was yours after all, your sweet, sensitive Genya. You hugged him tightly and he cried into your neck. He spoke in between muffled cries.

"I don't want to hurt you guys the same way he hurt me.."

"And you never will.... But please, don't ever do this again, not for me but for our children"

You guys cried some more and you finally talked it out. Genya held your fore arm gently in his hand, he rubbed it in his palm, a look of pain on his face. He kissed it gently and looked up at you "I will never hurt you again... You or our children. I promise, for real this time" You smiled at him and nodded "I know you never will... But... Do they?". You both knew you had to explain this to them, but how do you explain this to 2 four year olds and 1 two year old? Just as you two were contemplating that you heard little pit pat's make their way into your shared bedroom.

It was your two boys , tired eyes looking up to see you with Genya. They looked up at you and made grabby hands, signaling that they want to be with you on the bed. You pulled them up onto the bed instead of cuddling into your lap they went into Genya's. Both of you were shocked, did they really forget already? Your one son who was trying to protect you earlier spoke tiredly, little tear bubbles in his eyes. He held onto Genya tightly. "We missed you Daddy... Can we sleep with you?" The other twin nodded in agreement, too tired to speak. Genya couldn't handle it, a few tears running down his face, a soft smile making its way onto his features. He said quietly "Of course you can... You always can."

You decided to get your daughter who was luckily sound asleep to sleep with you all in the bedroom. You and Genya were so happy,your boys seemed to be better and you two finally made up. Genya held you all close to him. He kissed you all on the forehead as your son's drifted off to sleep. He whispered to you, his voice still slightly shaky. "If you wouldn't mind... Maybe I can call in sick tomorrow and stay here with you guys?" You giggle softly "You don't have to, I can tell all this work is very important to you" he says almost instantly,moving you closer to him, "Not as important as all of you.... You can show me how you take care of these three everyday. And I can help you, I can keep these two little guys entertained and you can get a break." He says with a smile. You kiss him on his jawline, making him blush. "I would like that" you say tiredly. Before you know it you all fall asleep

Yeah, Genya then decided from that day on he will always be there for his family, and nothing will ever come before all of you.

_______________________________________________________

Im glad this is done, lol, please like this it took a long time~

Leave requests if you want but I have exams right now so I might not get to them lol, if you want! I hope you enjoyed this little fic!

[slusheeduck]

Happy

Surely being the lover of an ascended vampire is the happiest ending one could hope for. (Ascended Astarion AU)

This bite was so much like the others. A quick flash of pain, then a soothing numbness as Astarion drank. Falerin’s slip to unconsciousness was soft and gentle, with the comforting weight of his love like a blanket over him.

But as he awoke, something felt very wrong. He was cold, so cold, and there was an unsettling stillness in his chest—his heartbeat, which had always been a fluttering, uncertain thing, had stopped altogether. But most unsettling was the ache in him. The burning in his throat, the gnawing of hunger in his stomach.

His eyes, both a deep red, flew open, and he sat up with a rattling gasp.

“Shh, I’ve got you. I’ve got you.” Strong, sure hands, feeling nearly warm despite their own chill, rested on his shoulders, easing him back down. “Isn’t that nice, me being the one to say that to you for a change.”

Falerin’s eyes flicked up to Astarion. The vampire—well, ascendant vampire—was already dressed, and he sat lightly on the edge of the bed as he looked over Falerin. He was quiet for a moment, gaze simply traveling over his face. The hunger clawing in Falerin seemed reflected in Astarion’s eyes.

“You are…so beautiful,” he murmured, hand moving up to cup Falerin’s cheek. His thumb stroked his cheekbone, and he smiled. “And you will be beautiful forever.” He leaned in closer, voice dropping. “Thank you for trusting me.”

Falerin’s eyes closed as he let out a long breath, and he opened them again to look up at Astarion. “What exactly happened?”

Astarion’s thumb continued to stroke Fal’s cheek. “You were drained dry,” he said frankly, and his thumb moved to press against the half-drow’s lips. “Then, at the height of your delirium, I granted you one drop of my own blood.” He smiled as he leaned down. “And that was that. Now, my love, there’s nothing that can separate us. Not Cazador, not the fey, not your heart…you’ll be with me forever. We’ll get our happy ending, and it’ll last an eternity.”

Falerin kept his eyes on Astarion as he spoke, finding himself hanging on every word. But…something was odd. The elf’s eyes were flat and cold as he spoke, missing the spark that he’d come to adore. His brows drew together as he pushed himself up to sit.

“And you, love?” he asked softly. “How are you feeling after…everything?”

“Me?” Astarion laughed. “I feel…incredible. This power is more than I could have ever dreamed. I have everything in the world I could want. Cazador is dead, I’m the most powerful vampire in existence. With a bit of time and that pesky brain out of the way, I’ll have all of Baldur’s Gate at my feet…” He cupped Falerin’s chin with his hands. “…and I have the most perfect consort to share it all with.”

Falerin didn’t respond, brow furrowing. Something terrible was gnawing at him, screaming that this was wrong. That this wasn’t Astarion—not his Astarion, anyway. The sweetness, the sarcasm, the uncertainty and earnestness…in this Astarion, in his master, all he could see was hunger.

Astarion tilted his head as Falerin stayed silent. “Oh, little love, what could be bothering you?” he asked softly. “You have the most powerful being in Faerûn ready to satisfy your every whim. It’s the least I could do, after all you’ve given me, to see you happy.”

Falerin glanced up, meeting Astarion’s eyes. He could feel the power in them, sense it radiating off of Astarion. He had given it to him. He could have said no. But…no, this was the right choice. It had to be. He’d live forever, even as a spawn, and he’d have Astarion with him. It was everything he wanted, too.

He gave Astarion a wavering little smile. “I…think it’s the hunger,” he says quietly. “My throat hurts so badly.”

Astarion clicked his tongue. It wasn’t much, but it was something familiar—maybe, maybe it would just take time for him to come back. “I thought you would be. Luckily, I have friends in low places.” He leaned forward to kiss Falerin’s forehead, a little peck without the customary warmth he’d come to expect. “Stay here, my pet. I’ve got just what you need. Then we can explore both of our new abilities, together.”

Falerin watched him go, swallowing hard against the new burn in his throat. It would take time, but he could wait. He’d done this so they would be happy. And he would be happy. He had to be. ~

Within a century, the ordeal of the Netherbrain was a distant memory, a footnote in the storied history of Baldur’s Gate. Life went on, as it always did. New people rose to power, then fell, and the cycle continued.

Except for the case of Astarion Ancunín.

The new lord in the crimson palace was a marked improvement over the old one. He regularly held beautiful events with even more beautiful people. His courtiers, for lack of a better term, were made up of the city’s best and brightest—well, brightest might be an exaggeration. Ever the libertine, the lord had chosen a majority of the household for their looks, though the particularly witty ones were always the ones he showed the most attention to. And who wouldn’t want to be the center of his attention? He had a particular way of making one feel like they were the only person in the entire world.

As for his…condition, well, that was an open secret. Nearly everyone in the city had a friend who aspired to receive the eternal gift from Lord Astarion. Every party ended with at least a dozen new courtiers joining his court. Look at this decadence, was the unspoken message in each soiree, look at how happy everyone is. Don’t you want this? Of course you do. Submit to me, and it’s yours.

To those who had received the gift of the night, Lord Astarion was very open about his origins. How he’d gone from a humble spawn to the powerful ascendant he was now. His spawn—his children, he called them, in a flighty, teasing way that suggested it was one big joke—had it much better than he had. There was no Kennel, no tombs. If they displeased the lord, and it was so rare that anyone did, then there was merely a talk.

It's very hard to act out when you have no option but to obey, after all.

There was just one dark spot, in all of the decadence and glamour of the crimson palace: the lord’s consort, Falerin.

The eldest spawn could remember the early days of the crimson palace, when both lord and consort were the brightest things in the room. How Lord Astarion paraded him around, citing him as the reason behind everything he was able to do. Their wedding had been the event of Baldur’s Gate. Aeterna Amantes, Eternal Lovers, had been the proclamations on every announcement, and even today, Lord Astarion exclusively used it when referring to Falerin. But slowly, the half-drow vampire had stopped coming to events. He didn’t interact with courtiers, outside of the odd snarl and snap when one of the lord’s favorites got a little too comfortable with their station. But then, after a few days with his husband, he would be back to normal: polite and quiet, but content.

Of course, despite Astarion’s clear devotion to his husband, that never stopped young, new spawn from thinking they had a chance. The newest was a tiefling girl, Zapharia—a pretty thing, with soft, rose-gold curls that matched the elegant horns curling from her forehead. She’d been a bard before she’d joined the court, with a sweet voice and a charming way with words that ensured she always knew exactly what to say to get her way. It was no surprise that Astarion had warmed to her.

“Well, forever’s a long time, isn’t it?” she said to the little group of spawn that had settled around her, giving a saucy toss of her head. “The lord can’t be satisfied with someone like him for the long term. He needs someone bright, vibrant…fun.” She sent a knowing look down the hallway, to the lord and his consort’s chambers. “And I can give that to him. You know what, I’m going to give that to him.”

So, with a flounce of pink skirts and a raise of her chin, she made her way back to their chambers. She opened the door, clear voice ringing out as she called, “Lord Astarion!”

“He’s busy.”

Zapharia’s red eyes scanned the room, seeing Falerin at a table. He didn’t even look up at her as he wrote, and she scoffed.

“I bet he is, if you’re asking,” she said, hand going to her hip. “He’ll make time for me, though. Where is he?”

“He won’t.” He dipped his quill before he resumed his writing. “Go back to the main house, Zapharia.”

She scowled, then smirked as she sidled her way over. “Oh, my apologies, Fal.”

“Lord Falerin.”

“Oh, come on, we don’t need to be so formal.” She leaned against the table, watching him write. “After all, Lord Astarion and I have an understanding. Surely he’s told you about me…we spend so much time together, he must have.” She looked over her nails. “He’s told me I’m special.”

“Has he, now?”

“Mm. How fortunate he was to meet me, how much he loves my songs…it goes beyond just pillow talk.” She covered her mouth, eyes going wide. “Oh, dear me, how embarrassing. I wasn’t supposed to say that.”

Falerin didn’t look up. “Last warning, Zapharia,” was all he said.

She stayed put, staring down at him. “It must be hard,” she said, voice dropping. “Knowing that he loved you once. But let’s not kid ourselves, Fal…that ‘eternal lovers’ thing is in the past. Let someone new take care of his needs. It’s the kind thing to do.”

One of the biggest mistakes that courtiers made was thinking that Falerin, by virtue of being a spawn like them, wasn’t a threat. But he was older than all of them, and the hero of Faerûn besides. He knew how to strike, and he knew how to do it quickly.

When Astarion came in, blood coated the carpet and walls of the room, and it had spattered all over the paperwork Falerin had been working on. The chair he’d been in was broken in the struggle, it seemed, and Zapharia lay prone on the floor—neck torn open, eyes staring sightlessly overhead. A makeshift stake, made from one of the chair’s legs, was buried right between her ribs.

Falerin, mouth and hands bloodied, sat silently on a nearby couch, not even looking up as Astarion entered. The elf clicked his tongue.

“Well, you’ve certainly made a mess with this one,” he said, gesturing to Zapharia’s corpse. As Falerin stayed silent, he sighed. “Much as I love the sight of you with blood on your lips, you can’t keep doing this, my pet.”

“Don’t call me that.”

Astarion’s eyes shot over to look at him. “It’s one of those days, then,” he said, voice low. He snapped his fingers. “Come along, my sweet. Let’s clean you up.”

Falerin grimaced, trying to fight the inherent compulsion to follow. But he got to his feet, as he always did, trudging after Astarion to their bedroom. He sat, like a good little spawn, on the edge of the bed as he waited for Astarion to come from the washroom, a damp washcloth in hand. He stayed silent as Astarion dabbed at his face—the touch was gentle, it always was, but clinical and cold—and he stared pointedly at the wall.

“Falerin, look at me.”

Falerin made a face, and he shut his eyes. The rebellion only lasted a moment, though, before Astarion gripped his jaw, just tight enough to hurt.

“Look at me,” he repeated, the compulsion stronger. Falerin’s eyes opened, and he sucked in a deep breath as he stared at Astarion. The elf looked over him for a long moment, then gave another sigh. “Dearest, what’s wrong? You look so unhappy.” Falerin stayed silent. “Don’t tell me you were jealous of her, darling? She was a trinket, like the others. Nothing like you.” He leaned in for a kiss, but Falerin jerked his head away before their lips could touch.

“I hate this,” he said, voice very soft. “I hate this. I hate what our lives are.”

Astarion’s head tilted. “But…but this is what we wanted. This is what we fought for. You and I together, with power that the rest of the miserable wretches of this world could only dream of.”

“This isn’t what I wanted,” Falerin snapped back. “I never wanted to be…holed up like this, to be your…your little treasure.” He looked up, red eyes full of rage as he bared his teeth. “You are not the man I fell in love with.”

Astarion gave a sigh as he rolled his eyes; he’d heard this before. “No, I’m not. The man you fell in love with was weak and frightened and powerless. I’m better. I give you what you deserve, my love. Riches, adoration, a seat at my right hand.” His hands cupped Falerin’s chin, tilting his head up to meet his eyes. “You know you only have to ask, and I’ll give you the world.”

“I don’t want the world. I want…I just want you. Who you were.” Falerin swallowed hard, and he looked up at Astarion, misery etched in his face. “Let’s just…let’s just leave, Astarion.”

“Leave?”

“Yes, leave.” He reached up to wrap a hand around Astarion’s wrist. “Let’s go to Neverwinter, like we said we would all those years ago. Just…just you and me. It’ll be better, so much better than our lives here.”

Astarion stared at him. A century ago, when he’d first ascended, there might have been a flicker of doubt, a bit of his old spark at the suggestion. But his eyes remained flat and cold, even as he laughed.

“Now, little love, whyever would we leave now? We nearly have all of Baldur’s Gate at our beck and call. Another decade, and we’ll be sovereigns. Just. Like. We. Wanted.” He punctuated each of those words with a tap to Falerin’s nose. “Now, stop being ridiculous. We’ve a gala tonight, and we can’t have you bloodied up for it.”

Falerin sat very still, staring hard at Astarion. His lips trembled, but he managed one word.

“No.”

Astarion, already standing up, paused for a moment. Slowly, he tilted his head—a predator locking sights on its prey. “I beg your pardon?”

“No.” Now, Falerin’s whole body was shaking, but he kept his eyes firmly ahead. “No. I’m not doing this anymore. I…I’m going to leave.”

For a moment, Astarion was still and silent, and Falerin thought he may have a chance. But, just as he started to get up, Astarion’s hand was clenched around his jaw again. He surged downward, forcing Falerin’s face upward so he could meet his gaze. Finally, his eyes had some light behind them—fury blazed red as he stared at Falerin. The half-drow couldn’t look away, breath caught in his throat.

“You are not leaving,” Astarion hissed. “I will not lose you. You will stay here, with me, like you always have. You belong here.” He was quiet for a moment, and his expression softened. His voice dropped to a whisper. “Besides…aren’t you happy?”

Falerin’s eyes widened as fear rose up in his chest. He shook his head as best he could, struggling to get away. “Astarion…Astarion, no. Please…” Tears leaked from his eyes as Astarion’s gaze didn’t waver. “Please, don’t.”

“My perfect consort, my darling love…”

“Astarion, please!”

“…you simply must be happy.”

“No!” But it was too late. The compulsion was taking hold, and Falerin felt his anger, his hurt, melt into sweet compliance. There was one final flash of fury on his face before it went blank. He stared up at Astarion for a moment, and a smile suddenly forced itself onto the half-drow’s face.

“Of course I’m happy,” he said. “I’m with you.” He leaned up to give Astarion a kiss. “Aeterna amantes.”

“There’s my little love,” Astarion crooned, finally letting go of Falerin’s face. “Now, like I said. Let’s get you cleaned up.”

Like so many galas, this was a peak affair of decadence and luxury. There were a few whispers of what a shame it was that tiefling bard was nowhere to be found, but that was no matter, really. After all, everyone’s eyes were on the lord’s consort.

How lucky he was, to be so happy.

Casual Banter Masterpost

[kxxkiecxre]

╰┈➤ Pretty when you cry | M.Y.G

・❥・PAIRING: Yoongi x Fem!reader

・❥・SUMMARY: Yoongi thinks you’re one of the prettiest women alive.

・❥・WARNINGS: character death due to child birth / hints - talks of suicide. The length of this is more poem wise than story wise, so please don’t hate me for it being so short I’m sorryyyyy

******LISTEN TO PRETTY WHEN I CRY BY LANA DEL REY ******!!!!

Many have dreamt of a girl like you. Yoongi knows that. You were like the kiss of Aphrodite, the touch of an inside of a rose and the warmth of the summer sun. In a sense, you reminded him that of when the flowers begin to bloom during spring, the fresh crispy wave of reminiscent winter air in the morning and the dusky sky on a summer evening, right when it turns to the shade of pink, when the sun begins to timid away to your beauty. You were the it girl.

He knew that there were other ways to describe you, so many other ways. But for the life of him, your beauty and grace was indescribable. You were just like a pretty buttery daffodil, the sweetness of chocolate covered strawberries and the icy taste of a mango sorbet. So fucking, good.

He knew he was absolutely right when he got down on one knee and asked you to marry him on the docks of the summer lake during your camping days. The skies were exactly pink, orange and lilac. It was the the most memorable day to Yoongi, when he saw the way your smile lit up the lake as if tons of shimmering glitter was poured into it, the way the flowers perked up when you sniffled a little and your eyes shined brighter than any stupid star in the galaxy. He could swear your tears were dusted with some type of shimmer when they rolled down your rosey cheeks. Your siren gaze smiling with your bowed blushed lips, skin pale aside from the blush in your cheeks.

That day, that day his heart blossomed with the flowers. His heart expanded and felt that of pure cotton, soft, squishy and warm. So fucking warm, that day, when you said yes, he swears his blood seemed to flow a little more smoothly to his heart, reddening it as if it was crying the tears his eyes couldn’t seem to make out. That was the happiest day in his life, that day, he remembers every moment, every time he wakes up his brain somehow wires the chilly air to the way it was that morning, and the dusty sky, he now believes it carries your name with it every time summer comes around. He swears it does.

The clouds that day could have spelled your name out with the way the earth misted with your warm aura, it was as if everywhere you went, you bled your softness and kindness, your pureness into the earth beneath your feet. It would seep into the ground and rise above, blooming and captivating everything and everyone around you.

Summer, summer was the best way to describe you.

“You’re so pretty when you cry.” He murmured into your ear that day, your arms wrapping around him even tighter.

“Yoongi, you gave me a ring.”

He could give you so much more, he could give you the galaxy on the finest silver platter he could find. He would go around the world and pick every single flower around it for you. He would drain the ocean to save your life, and he would set this earth on fire if anyone hurt you.

Yoongi, would give his life for you.

Yoongi before you thought he would never bloom this beauty in his life. He refused to believe there was anyone in this world who would ever make him feel something again. He would roam the halls of your college campus in all black, noise cancelling headphones on his ears and he never, never spoke to anyone unless it was for an assignment. He thought back then he’d die alone.

Then you appeared on the roof of the building, grabbing him in a life sucking hug and begging him to give you just 24 hours. Twenty fucking four stupid hours to change his mind about living his life. Now he would spend eternity to spend it with you. He would bargain with the devil if it meant he could live forever with you.

If it meant, he got to see your face every, single, damned time.

You changed everything about him, in twenty four hours, you changed his view on this world. From forcing him to drive in your car while blasting some girly music in your run down Corolla with all the windows down, to eating frozen yogurt at the dead of night. Then, he saw you cry for the first time, when he told you just how sad he was while drinking wine, and he thought to himself how pretty you were when you cried.

He loved you more than life itself, you were the reason he was breathing, the reason he wanted to continue his life. The reason why the sound of children never sounded bad anymore. So he gave you your one wish. A baby. And then he found himself in the delivery room, staring with tears in his eyes, looking at his precious little girl, at the doctors who held her, and then his eyes landed on you, on the blood dripping from the bed, the doctors arms pushing vigorously against your chest, desperately trying to get your heart to beat again. He just stood there, for the first time crying. In his white cozy sweater and white turtle neck. The room was bizarrely quiet in his ears.

all he saw was the lifeless body of his life.

A/N: moral of the story? Don’t have ki…

Im only kidding please don’t kill me.

I can write a happier ending? If y’all want that… I’m sorry? Please forgive me?

NO COPYING, TRANSLATION OR RECREATION OF ANY KIND OF MY WORK IS PERMITTED.

MASTERLIST

[anonymoushouseplantfan]

Long time lurker here who finally took the plunge and watched/skimmed through their ‘historical’ doc. For what it's worth, here's my amateur psychoanalysis of it:

They both suffer from substantial minority complexes: Him for not being his brother (who’s more good looking, smarter and is to be king). She for being a child of a broken home and divorced parents with sometimes dubious backgrounds. She seems to always have wanted to be her own version of Gwyneth Paltrow, in all ways.

She seems to suffer from some sort of magical thinking, where her life necessarily must feel like a Hollywood film. I think her main sources of inspiration are Notting Hill, Four Weddings and a Funeral, You’e got Mail, When Harry met Sally, etc. The song choices, the wedding speech, poems etc. give it away. Reality probably became too painful for her at some point as a child, so she started inventing a magical version of it that she’s trying to recreate. Becoming rich and famous is prob her way of proving to anyone who made her feel inferior as a child that she is worthy, even superior. She needs people to think she lives in some sort of ideal Pinterest version of California where she’s a modern Gwyneth Paltrow, royal to boot. It’s all wide brimmed Cali-hats, barefoot Joni Mitchell running, hop-in-the-car for a secret beach swim with your lover, topped off with avocados kind of vibes. Not a care in the world, happy happy happy. It’s all very nineties, but it makes sense considering when she grew up. She’s enacting the dream of the hurt child of a divorce, and he’s paying for it.

Of course she hates Kate. She represents everything Meghan wanted to be growing up: from a loving core family, financially comfortable, tall and slim (I bet that’s a thing), polite, educated, artsy, knows how to carry herself, etc. Kate not playing into Meghan’s hugging and ‘American’ ways was probably too much of a painful rejection for Meghan, a reminder that she’s really a fairly clumsy person with poor manners from a broken family (my guess is this is what she actually feels like inside, even if it’s subconscious). You can see it in the way she looks at Kate that she triggers some deep sense of inferiority, and so her solution is to be a b****, because she was never taught that jealousy usually says more about yourself than it does about the other person.

Her mom doesn’t feel genuine, not a lot of kindness shines through there. It’s interesting how close she seems to have gotten to her daughter once Harry’s credit cards were in the picture. Harsh, I know, but the whole thing feels off.

I somehow think the truest thing they have in common is that they’re both products of divorced parents, with dads who have felt a lot of subsequent guilt, trying to compensate for their failings by not calling out bad behaviour, and not making them take responsibility for anything growing up. The result is two overgrown teenagers with no sense of responsibility, no self deprecation, and zero self awareness. Heading for disaster methinks. 

Everyone is taking advantage of his status and money, and he doesn’t see it. Very sad. 

He seems happiest when he's smoking weed.

She shape shifts constantly; in their ‘candid’ moments (who knows what is actually real, it’s all filmed), she’s the uber feminine, helpless, sweet girl that Harry gets to save, who makes him feel smart. When she’s being interviewed independently, or sitting at a UN conference table, her voice deepens and she shows up as someone completely different, the ‘smart one’. There are numerous examples of her shape shifting throughout the years; it's been there from the beginning. 

I actually find Harry and her dad quite similar - both bratty ***holes.

Sorry for the lengthiness, and thanks for a great blog! You've provided sanity with your great analysis of this whole drama throughout the years - thank you :)

Thanks for sending this in!

I agree with the inferiority complex, and I think they both compensated for that by creating these over-the-top personas based on their paid press. The trigger for Harry's new persona was his time in Afghanistan and the trigger for Meghan's new persona was getting her suits role.

They both suffer from magical thinking. Thanks for focusing on Meg's magical realism, instead of Harry's. I found the bus tour of Hollywood boring when I saw the documentary and I wondered why they bothered to put it in, but I think you're right and it's all about her magical transformation. I noted the romcom element as well and one thing I found interesting is that the first three episodes of the documentary resemble regular royal documentaries with stock music, but then the last three incorporate romcom music. It's a big shift in tone, and it also happens in the book. The first few chapters are royal biography (albeit kind of weird) and then it's all rom com with a big dash of spite.

I had not considered this aspect of the Kate rivalry, and I'm going to have to think about this. I think you're right, but it goes a bit deeper. I think Kate was supposed to become part of "the family she never had." She was supposed to be the loving sister Sam was not. That's how the magical thinking worked. That's why there is so much bitterness towards Kate. Notice that Charles actually stepped into the dad role Meghan expected him to play, but Will and Kate were not willing to play the part of loving brother and sister. That's why there is so much anger there.

There's something off about Doria, but she's smart enough to stay on the sidelines.

Divorce is a big factor, I agree.

He doesn't see it at all, which is odd because we all thought both he and Will had a good radar for users. It almost seems like he's used to lower-level users, and he doesn't realize how things work at this level of money where people are willing to give you one of their empty homes until they figure out how they can monetize you.

Drugs are a huge factor. I didn't understand how dependent he was on them until I read his book.

Everyone seems to experience a different Meghan, and many people (Naniki, Nina, staff) have said she starts out charming and then she turns on you and becomes a different person. It's going to be interesting to see how she turns on Harry.

They say you end up marrying your dad, and Meghan seems to be proving that. She turned a prince into Thomas Markle.

Thanks for the kind words. It has been a wild ride, hasn't it.

[farm-witches-fic-recs]

Friends! Countrypeople! Townies! The farm witch community has gathered together again to bring a selection of favorites old and new for your reading pleasure.

Check out these fics, leave the authors some love, and enjoy your days in the ways that make you happiest.

==========

London, Love, and All it Entails (londonspirit) “Patrick and David’s long term, long distance love affair. Someone mentioned GOGO (Getting Over Getting Older) and this one came to mind: two people are destined to be together but they first have lots to do before they are both ready. I find it both comforting and inspiring.” 

Noble Beloved (AWorldOfDreams/@a-noble-dragon) “I love this story so much! The entire Dracotine series to be honest. It’s such a unique spin on our favorite boys and their romance. The longing is palpable. The sexy times are hot as hell. And, yes, Patrick is a dragon—a perfect, snippy, numbers guy of a dragon. 💙🐉🖤”

My misspent youth and my slow decline (@stereopticons) “Only 800 words but it hurts so good. Patrick, David, Stevie, and Alexis each get a devastating moment that ends on such a high. Loved this.”

People like that are the only people here (@likerealpeopledo-on-ao3) “Warm yet complex Brewer family vibes, a gigantic treehouse, and Patrick coming to terms with his past at Thanksgiving. Plus the Roses! Doing Rose things! It’s a fic that helped me see how Patrick developed the flawed communication style he’s perfected and how sublime David is as a supportive partner (housewarming not included).”

Shot glass of tears (@blackandwhiteandrose) “There's just so much good stuff packed in a short fic. David in NYC is a whole mood but the way he feels things and even changes over this little bit of time is crazy. it's sad but it's not. I love that it ends knowing right where they'll pick up in Schitt's Creek.” 

Too fast (@grapehyasynth) “I come back to this one all the time. David worrying about this date being wrong for him (mini-golf! who would think David would mesh well with mini-golf!) but realizing how much Patrick is trying, how hot he thinks Patrick is, and relaxing into it and letting himself be charmed while still agonizing over making sure he isn't messing things up with Patrick is so lovely.” 

The touch of your hand makes my pulse react (pandorasdaydream) “This new RPF manages to create a vivid world where Dan and Noah are together and it's a world with both love and tenderness but also melancholy and jealousy. Highly recommend if you were one of those fans who did a side eye at Dan showing up drunk and enamored at Noah's London show.”

True Blue series (ayes)" An inventive, sweet & hot early-relationship AU in which David’s escape with Roland’s truck after the events of S1 ends with an encounter with friendly and generous goat farmer Clint Brewer (and his family) instead of the cranky Mennonites…. So David meets Patrick even before he’s worked at the Blouse Barn. The story includes hilarious appearances by the Roses and Stevie, is told from David’s (very anxious) PoV, and is as insightful & funny & satisfying as we all deserve. The series comes in two parts; both are worth devouring!" 

Wild and Wooded (@lisamc-21) “This is everything I want in a non angsty AU fic. They meet, tease and banter, find a way to meet again, click boom, and a happy ending. Patrick is so earnest and wears his heart on his sleeve, not to mention those heart eyes. David knows that Patrick has something that he has never encountered before. He wants it, but history has him doubting. Great dialog, great intimate scenes, lovely story.”

[shikinnie]

I wish i'd seen you sooner

«it must have hurt so bad seeing the girl you like loving someone else, huh?»

there's a new class plan, and you're not next to Isagi anymore! you're now next to another boy who used to be your crush.

you smile to your boyfriend as you hug him before you go to your new assigned seat. you were gonna miss being with him at every class, laughing, playing, talking and helping each other.. they were precious moments and yet so simple. but it's okay, fortunately, isagi's new seat was just behind yours and it means that you'll still be able to continue talking with him, even if it will be more difficult not to be catched by the teacher.

when you see who's beside you, you recognize someone who used to be your crush of almost two years ago. you've been talking a little but not that much, comparing to back then when you used to be close. the main reason you fell in love with him was for his sense of humour. he would always make you laugh. however, when you confessed to him, he admitted that he didn't see you this way.

even if it did hurt you back then, it doesn't matter now that you have yoichi <3

however, isagi also knew who he was to you. he also knew that you had a crush on him whereas isagi had one on you. the least we could say, is that it was so painful for him to watch you love someone else, to laugh so hard with someone else, and not him, when he was right beside you. at the time you were only friends, so when your ex crush rejected you, isagi, being your closest friend, had to comfort you. Even though it pained him, he was still your friend and he would always be there for you, even not as your lover, which was the case.

but when your heart finally woke up to look properly at the person who was always by your side, it began to see isagi on a different light. and so, you just fell in love with him, making him the happiest boy in the world.

even knowing that you now have only eyes for him, the footballer player still felt unsecure. he thinks you might end up liking him again. on top of that, he sees your ex crush as someone way more good looking and funnier than him. it would only be natural for you to prefer him to isagi.

so when the class starts and the teacher starts as well her job, she's quick to give you some work to do within the hour after she explained the lesson of the day. it will be no longer after that your new classmate asks for your help. all of this under the icy stare of your boyfriend. he quickly notices how he would put his arm behind your chair, as if he was marking his territory, when in reality it is not his at all. except, he doesn't know that.

isagi grits his teeth as he sees you being completely blind to it, and helping him innocently. even if he finds you cute, the anger he feels at the moment is stronger. and what he sees in front of him makes him clench his fists. the boy that now isagi hates, was showing you something to help him up with on the page on the opposite side of you, only for you to get closer to him in order to see better.

and to isagi who has no choice but to assist to it, it does nothing good but increase his anger which he restrains.

he's quick to write something on a piece of paper that said "stop talking to him", before it lands on your table. you throw a quick glance behind you and lock eyes with isagi's, smiling lovingly at him before you read what he has written.

however, his heart might just break when you ignore him to report your attention on the stupid boy next to you. "i've been wanting to tell you something." this picked your curiosity as you asked what it was. "i think that i might just like you too" he smiled as if you were still into him, when you are just not anymore since isagi bewitched you.

and when this one hears this, "i know it might be sudden but back then I just wasn't aware of what a beauty you were, so.. that's it. today i return your feelings.. baby", he might just snap.

but then he remembers that you ignored him to listen to this bastard, as the dark blue haired boy is currently calling him in his mind, and he fears that you might just accept his feelings.

"i don't wanna be rude but, wake up" you start, "i don't like you anymore, this was almost two years ago now. for you to think that it's still the case is cocky." while his smile faded, isagi never felt this relieved. and it gets even better as you continue, "since then i moved on, and now i have a wonderful boyfriend that i love very much" you wink at the person you're referring to, as isagi's heart swells, before you return your attention to the other boy who didn't seem to notice it, "i'm sorry, but i'm taken".

"and may i know who's the lucky guy?", it's strange, but his smile that disappeared earlier just made his comeback at the mention of a boyfriend. just when you were about to answer, the teacher that was passing by your table notices your blank sheet. "young girl! why is your sheet still empty since the beginning of the class! i bet you were chatting and doing nothing." you wanted to justify yourself saying that was because you were helping your classmate -and some other stuff that won't be metioned- when the bell rang. "oh! well, since you did nothing you'll have two more exercises to do and I want them fresh for tomorrow." and just like that, she left to pack her belongings like everyone else in the classroom.

you sighed, you did feel upset but this was your favorite subject so even some extra exercises to do weren't gonna make you mad. but it did make isagi mad as he knew it was all this guy's fault. "so who is your boyfr-" he continued as he was not feeling a tiny bit guilty, when your dear boyfriend comes to you putting his arms over your collarbones and resting his head on yours as you're still sat. "i am his boyfriend, want an autograph? you've been asking for me several times, what d'you want?" his tone was cold, and he had all rights to do so.

"oh, so it's you, isagi." his gaze was at fist cold as well until a cocky smile drawn his way to his lips, "it must have hurt so bad seeing the girl you like loving someone else, huh?" so now, now you're gonna be mad. furious, even. as isagi was biting his lip and was about to speak, you put your hands on isagi's arms (which don't let go of you) and stand up to speak. "sorry but i won't let that one slide so easily." you start, "now that i see what you're really like, i don't even understand how i managed to like you. how can you attack someone on his feelings? this is just very lame and ridiculous. you're pathetic. don't ever think of repeating it again asshole, especially to my boyfriend." as the jerk stays silent and walks away mumbling something you didn't catch, isagi is left agape by what you just said. even if he liked it, he didn't know you could be mean, in a way. however, isagi stops him as you frown, wondering why.

"hey! you didn't even apologize to my girl." the trash scoffed at the nickname, "apologize? and for what?" isagi frowns, "do I really have to tell you? because of you keeping her busy with your shit she couldn't work and now she has even more work to do." in response, he just shrugs. "as if i care" the trash cackled as it walked away, which made your boyfriend even more mad. his grip on your shoulders was tightening, making you wince a little.

turning around to face him, he's met by your sweet smile. "it's okay yoichi, i don't mind" once again, he didn't seem to agree with you. "but he-" you cut him off saying that is really okay and that it was useless anyway. "what about we just go outside for the break, hm?"

sat on a bench with isagi by your side, hand in his with fingers locked together and head on his broad shoulder, he confesses something to you. "you know.. i was afraid you might leave me for him, earlier." his gaze was directed to the ground as you take off your head from against him, eyes open wide with surprise as they look straight into his. "i mean, look at him and look at me. plus, you were in love with him so..." putting your hands on each one of his cheeks you force him to look at you. "pardon me sir? i think i misheard what you just said??" yet he stayed silent, looking in your eyes with quite a sad expression. and if there's one thing you hate the most beside people eating cereals with water instead of milk (i swear it exists), it's seeing the person you love sad.

"first, you can't compare him to you. i mean, you're just so much better. second, i wouldn't have just forgot my feelings for you in a second and go with him. and third, don't remind me of back then, I'm just ashamed now. how could I not see you?" you stare at the ground, thinking about this. after all, that's true. you never really wondered how you did to not notice him and his love for you even when you realized that you shared his feelings. instead of him, you loved that jerk.

suddenly, you feel his fingers on your chin, lifting it up to lock lips with yours. the kiss is slow, so soft and filled with love that you can't help but melt into it. he stops only to carry on from another angle, putting his hand on the back of your neck. there's nothing to say, his kisses really are the best. however, this had to come to an end. "i love you." Even if he didn't say it aloud it still would be the same, because his deep blue eyes were screaming it. "it's fine, the past doesn't matter now that you're finally mine".

every day your love for him grows, and now it might just explode.