#i wasn’t there to witness it’s birth

[ahhscheisse]

there’s something that happens to me when i see someone enjoying something i like but what they’re enjoying is essentially y’know. “grunge” at $200. does that make sense? i go absolutely feral inside my own head when i see a kid dress “goth” and it’s y’know. very watered down. more fashionable. like GOD FOR FUCKING BID you not be attractive to your followers for one damn post. i mean, if you’re gonna dress “grunge” for clicks, go to a thrift store, buy cheap, ratty, ugly ass ill-fitting clothes, y’know? punk isn’t just ripped jeans and a pristine leather jacket. there’s more to these things. they go so much deeper than what people are giving them credit for. grunge has nothing really to do with clothing except for the idea of, y’know, “reduce reuse recycle” even if their intent wasn’t inherently eco-friendly. they were broke, y’know? they bought what they could afford and wore that shit until it disintegrated and i SWEAR TO GOD i will completely lose my cool if i ever see a pair of ripped tights on some high end fashion website again i WILL LOSE IT.

[kiska-enthusiast]

i love living in a state with zero reproductive rights

[onlymingyus]

Somebody [SVTHUB world tour collab] (teaser)

pairing; choi seungcheol x f!reader

genre; smut (minor dni), fluff, angst, romance, fake dating au

summary; When you need someone to help you out of a bind quickly, you pick the first person you see to be your “boyfriend”, you just didn’t expect it to be your single hot dad neighbor, Choi Seungcheol…

content warnings; single father!seungcheol, teacher!reader, seungcheol has a child (obviously), eating/drinking, jeonghan/joshua (implied relationship but not stated), betting metioned, alcohol, medical field - doctor!seungcheol, doctor!joshua, mentions cheating in past relationship, mentions death/accident of spouse - widow!seungcheol --- i am sure there are more, if there is anything important you want me to add let me know

smut warnings; unprotected sex (birth control mentioned), creampie, fingering, oral (f receiving), begging, crying (pleasure), multiple orgasm, lots of pet names, marriage kink, seungcheol carries the reader and is larger than the reader, manhandling, shower sex...again if I miss something let me know.

w/c; 25.2k and some change (623 extra words for patreon bonus) [1.1k this teaser]

svthub world tour masterlist

a/n; thank you to my @junkissed for proofreading for me once again, i love you so so much. i really hope you guys enjoy my little addition to the svthub world tour and those on tumblr will join me in Barcelona for the bonus 💕

this fic will be released 7/15 at 3 pm est to read it now subscribe to my patreon and click here

Forcing a smile on your face after a long day, you stand up as the bell rings and parents start to move into the room to collect their children. Taking your time, you note each one, telling them to have a good evening and that you will see them in the morning. 

It wasn’t that you hadn’t enjoyed your day, but you could feel a headache behind your eyes and fifteen screaming five year olds was a lot for anyone. So as the numbers started to dwindle, you could feel the anxiety starting to fade from you. 

“Hey, buddy!” 

Glancing up as Matthew squeals happily, you watch him run towards a slender but fit man that you vaguely recognize. Perhaps he had been on Seungcheol’s walls in one of the pictures, but you didn’t have a name to put—

“Uncle Jeonghan!”

Ah, so this was Uncle Jeonghan that Matthew talked about so much. Picking up your clipboard, you furrow your brows, moving over to him and the man as you quickly make sure the man’s name is listed as someone authorized to pick up. 

“Have a good day? This must be Miss Y/N that your daddy talks about all the time.” 

Lifting your head from the clipboard, you meet the man’s eyes as your cheeks start to burn. Opening your mouth, you close it quickly as he smirks at you and ruffles the boy's head as he clings close to him. 

“I—Yoon Jeonghan? If you could just sign for Matthew, since you're not his legal guardian and only listed as an authorized person, it’s policy.” 

Taking the clipboard from you, Jeonghan grins as you seem to shy away at his words. He could see the appeal. You were beautiful and seemed responsible. You were exactly Seungcheol’s type. 

“No problem; Y/N. Cheol had to work in the ER today so here I am to save the day. I honestly don’t know why he didn’t just ask you to bring him home.” 

Scoffing in surprise, you watch as Matthew gasps and looks up at you like a new toy. 

“That’d be so cool! Miss Y/N, can you one day? I can show you my toys.” 

Not wanting to disappoint the boy, you give him a strained smile and meet Jeonghan’s eyes, realizing he was an enabler. Seungcheol should have warned you about him, but maybe he didn’t even realize how your first meeting with him would go. 

“Maybe… I’m your teacher, Matthew. We play at school—” 

“Well and his neighbor and his daddy’s girl—” 

Shaking your head, you watch as Jeonghan bites his lip to stifle a laugh before nodding and holding up his free hand as a way of surrendering. Apparently Seungcheol had shared some details of your “relationship” with his friend. You wanted to crawl into a hole and never come out, but you had a feeling this man was the type to pull you out and back into the spotlight. 

“Maybe one day, Matthew... but let’s not get our hopes up.” 

Pouting up at you, Matthew just nods and moves away from you both to go get his things. Letting out a breath, you take back your clipboard and put it down on a shelf behind you as you and Jeonghan glance towards the small boy as he pulls on his jacket. 

“He’d let you take him home.” 

Furrowing your brows, you glance over at Jeonghan and shift on your feet at his words and the implication behind them. Noticing how you seem to nervously shift from foot to foot, Jeonghan smirks and glances down at his phone in his hand, answering a text from Seungcheol as he speaks to you. 

“One day he’ll man up and ask you out for real. This fake dating shit—” 

“Don’t curse in my classroom, please.” 

A laugh slips from between his lips as he glances up from his phone to offer you an apologetic smile before nodding and continuing. 

“Sure, sorry. As I was saying, this fake dating nonsense you two have going on right now isn't going to work. I can already tell you like him.” 

Insufferable. That's how you’d describe Yoon Jeonghan. You had known him for less than ten minutes and already you knew he was going to be an issue in your life. Crossing your arms, you start to sigh into your words, a dramatic big breath, when Alex’s voice once again ruins your moment. 

“Matt, buddy, let me help.” 

Jeonghan watches as your head moves like prey sensing a predator towards the other teacher, who was now helping Matthew with his bag. His eyes move to his godson’s face as he grimaces as the man tugs on the straps, keeping them tight on his arms. 

“He’s fine, Mr. Alex. Thank you.” 

You still sounded like yourself, with that sweet tone to your voice, but even Jeonghan could hear the hint of malice behind it. So this was Alex, and now Alex thought it was okay to mess with Seungcheol’s son. The “fake” dating made sense. This man did not understand boundaries and used everything in front of him as an open door. 

Stepping in front of Alex, you smile at Matthew and the smile transfers to the boy’s face. Jeonghan feels relief wash over him at the sight as you kneel down, adjust the straps back to where they were and then tie his shoe properly. 

“I was just helping out a student, Miss Y/N.” 

Oof… There was so much tension in this room that even Jeonghan felt like he was going to drown in it. Stepping forward, he clears his throat and offers his hand towards Matthew, letting him take his fingers. 

“And while I’m sure she appreciates that, and the parents do... I don’t know you, Mr. Alex, was it? From where I was standing, some strange man was touching my godson, which honestly made me nervous for a moment. I’d be more careful; this isn’t your classroom.” 

Standing up, you feel your cheeks burn under Alex’s eyes as he looks to you to defend him, but you don’t. Jeonghan had a point. Not every parent or guardian knew who all the teachers were, not even the students knew the other teachers. Simple acts could be misunderstood and while he was doing something to “be nice” and it was innocent, you knew there was another reason he was inserting himself into your and Matthew’s lives. 

“Well, I do apologize for the misunderstanding. My classroom is right down the hall. I was just coming to see Miss Y/N. We are very close.” 

Jeonghan just smirks at the man and shoots you a glance before looking at his phone and seeing a reply from Seungcheol. 

“I’m sure you are.” Dismissing the man, he looks at you and smiles brightly. “Y/N, dear… Cheol asked me if you wouldn’t mind helping me with Matthew once you get home? I’m an awful cook.” 

Opening his mouth to say something, Alex stops when Matthew squeals with delight and grabs at your shirt, begging you to come over. 

Another point to you and Seungcheol. 

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[bvidzsoo]

Underwater

The first star of Cosmically divine...

☆ Author: bvidzsoo

☆ Pairing: Choi San x female reader

☆ Warning: nudity, smut, blood, mentions of war and threats to kill someone

☆ Word count: 6.9k

☆ Rating: nsfw

☆ Genre: Greek mythology, San is Ares, forbidden love

☆ Summary: You knew that your love would never be fulfilled as the man you loved belonged to another woman. But can you help your poor Naiad heart when San, the God of war himself, seeks you out again and again when he is most vulnerable?

☆ A/N: Hi, lovelies!^^ I totally didn't write this piece in one sitting, naaah, yes I did. I hope it's good and enjoyable as I have my doubts with it I was so hyped up but anyways. I appreciate all your feedback, it is very welcomed, so let me know what you thought of it! If you'd like to join the taglist of the series let me know! I'll point out a few things before you start reading the story:

★ This is inspired by Greek mythology, but I took creative liberty and adapted it to my likes, so keep that in mind while reading, thank you! ★ Ares is the God of war ★ Artemis is the Goddess of hunt ★ A Naiad Nymph is a female spirit that preside in fresh water ★ Aphrodite is the Goddess of love ★ Hermes is the messenger of Gods ★ Iris is the goddess of rainbow but was also considered messenger of Gods ★ Atë is the goddess of mischief ★ Dion is a village and municipal unit in the municipality of Dion-Olympos in the Pieria regional unit, Greece; it's known for its sanctuary of Zeus and its ancient city (it's so beautiful over there guys, if you get the chance, you should definitely visit the village, and Mount Olympus too!!) ocean divider; greek divider

☆ Taglist: @patchofblue @sthwaaberry @constipatedcorgi @holytidalwavechees3cake @cheolliehugs

@slowitdownmakeitb0uncy @hoeforsungie

༄ ҉ Series m.list ༄ ҉ 　

            On the outskirts of the ancient city called Dion, just by the foot of Mount Olympus an enchanted forest vivid with Nymphs of all kinds encompassed the land, offering a much-needed sanctuary and protection to those who were in need of tranquility and a piece of quiet, away from all mortals, and even Gods that had their watchful eyes on everyone and everything at all times. The small Lake of Naia, springing from the top of Mount Olympus, rushing down rapidly the rocky side of the mountain only until it became merely a gentle stream was the place I referred to as my home. It wasn’t just my home, it was the home of many Naiad nymphs that have been birthed and then raised on the shores of Lake Naia by their elderly sisters, naiads that have been here for centuries, having witnessed atrocities, but so many beautiful life-changing events as well. We were fond of this place, and we protect it ardently. No foul soul was allowed in the vicinity of our sacred Lake, Artemis herself having blessed our sanctuary.

Men who were desperate for enlightenment, or were feeling lonely, would often find solace in our presence, grateful for an eternity to us, making promises, which, due to their fragile lives would never be completely fulfilled. But that was alright, my sisters and I never expected too much from them as long as they honored and cherished our land, our Lake, our home. After all, mere mortals wouldn’t be able to offer us what the Olympian Gods could. Warm bodies and warm souls that we could often lay upon our hardships, our fears, and our future ambitions. I have never stepped too far away from my home, walking barely a few feet away from the Lake would make me feel restless and unnerved, unsafe and exposed to the not so kind men that liked to haunt and torment us when the Gods weren’t on the look out for their dear naiads.

Besides Artemis, not many came often to Lake Naia, its location too close to Olympus and yet too far from Dion for the Gods that were rather lazy, like Apollo. Zeus always had his eyes on his children and kin, however, if they travelled far away enough from Olympus, he’d certainly turn a blind eye to whatever shenanigans they deemed fit on their travels on Earth, disguised as something they were not. Even Artemis liked to change her features when she came down to bless our Lake and show gratefulness for guiding and protecting the maidens through their hardships, however, there was one God that never bothered to hide his true self. All bloody and gory and authentic, brute yet hands gentle as if they were afraid to bruise those innocent, eyes sharp and menacing upon first glance, yet warm and intense on a second glance. The mortals liked calling him Ares, but I preferred his birth name, the one Zeus had given him, San.

San had always been a gruff and intimidating man, as the God of war, he was strong and vigilant, quick on his feet and cutting with his words. Very few naiads had the courage to approach him, scared he’d hurt them if they displeased him in any way, and so, the task of looking out for him whenever he visited Lake Naia fell on my hands. And despite the stories that I have heard about the fearless man, I couldn’t bring myself to find him terrifying or mal-intentioned, not when his lips quivered when he whispered the names of those fallen in battle, not when tears would escape his beautiful eyes before he’d submerge in the crystal-clear water of Lake Naia, desperate to rid himself of all the blood, suffering, and screams of those that have perished underneath the sharp blade of his sword. San was a man with a delicate and soft soul, yearning for a connection that was simple, a connection in which he didn’t have to explain himself nor feel guilty, a connection where one simply listened to his burdens and coaxed him further inside the warm and tranquil waters of Lake Naia.

Being immortals, it’s been too long and I wouldn’t be exactly able to pinpoint the time and date of when San decided that he’d choose Lake Naia as his piece of heaven and peace after a long and exhausting battle, but ever since then, his visits became more and more frequent. Perhaps it was due to the rising tension between the settlements as the mortals were never quite thankful with what they’ve got, so, they challenged each other to a war that only lead to disaster and suffering, dividing families and scarring individuals for a lifetime. And despite the real reason as to why San was here should have saddened me, as a protector of maidens that have fallen victim in these wars, I only found my heart gleeful and quickly beating the more often he showed up. There was something majestic, captivating and divine about San, and my poor Naiad heart stood no chance against a man whose walls crumbled the second his armor was off his body.

            Times were dire, nature had a way of silently absorbing everything the mortals felt. And as part of nature myself, I found myself quite volatile lately. Even the quietest snap of a twig sent us back deeper inside the lake, ready to submerge and watch from underneath whatever fool decided to approach our sacred place. My sisters grew restless and they refused to step out of Lake Naia, whispers of the forest surrounding us carrying word that a war not too far from our home was brewing as the military forces of two settlements failed to see eye to eye. Artemis visited more often than before, blessing our humble abode and promising a new location that would be even safer if the events would turn grimmer, but my sisters and I refused to flee. This is our one and only home, the only place that we’ve known since eternity, since the cosmos has birthed us, and if it came to it, we’d rather perish with this place than abandon it and leave those who love it as much as us behind. Artemis did not like our refusal, but her word couldn’t go against our eldest sister’s, and once we’ve put our hearts to something, we rarely changed our minds.

Due to the sun hiding behind the clouds, the Lake failed to stay as warm as usual, but our songs kept it idle for a quick dip. My sisters have disappeared somewhere deep-down underneath, their absence coating the surroundings in a serene silence, perhaps a little bit even eerie. I knew what this meant as I lurked just above the surface, eyes set on the steadily approaching figure. Its outline was harsh and looked to be almost vibrating as his heavy footsteps echoed in the silent forest, the animals just as reluctant as my sisters to be in the vicinity of the God. Pushing my head above water, I took a deep breath and slowly swum towards the shore, the soft water clinging to my skin like a second skin. The sword that was gripped in the God’s hand glinted in the light, despite the sun being hidden, and it left a red path in its wake as he came closer to the Lake. Something salty and nauseating hit my nose as my feet touched the fine soil of the Lake, the water up to my neck as the sword slipped from the God’s hand, clanking loudly against the grey stones that littered the path that led towards Lake Naia. Heath flooded my body, and it wasn’t from the Lake as I walked further out, water below my chest, it was from the God’s body heath as red veins swirled underneath his pristine and tan skin as his arms were left exposed. The miniscule cut on his right bicep was the first thing that caught my eyes as the water of the Lake finally reached my ankles, white dress heavily clinging to my body and failing to hide anything as my black hair looked almost molded to my back as it wetly stuck to it. A soft exhale and the deep furrow of his dark eyebrows was the first sign that my God felt exhausted as we came to stand face to face, his body tense and vibrating with the remnants of adrenaline, meanwhile mine felt lax and tingly as I bowed my head, curtsying.

“San, my possessor.” I didn’t need to speak loudly, there were no sounds around us, just San’s breaths coming out in short puffs, chest rising and falling rapidly underneath his black steel armor. The stench of death would make anyone run away, but as I raised my head up and laid my eyes upon my possessor’s face again, I could only feel pity seeing the regret and exhaustion whirling together in his sharp eyes, clouding his mind and I could almost hear his thoughts.

“Y/N, my nymph.” And the God’s voice that roars and shatters in a battle was now shaky and soft, warm to the point that it made my heart beat faster, “I have missed you dearly.”

I didn’t dare smile as I extended my right hand, eyes stuck to the swipe of dark blood underneath his right eye, trailing down to leave the impression of a bloody tear. I swiped at it with my thumb, and San’s eyes closed as he gulped, sighing loudly.

“Let me take away your burdens.” I whispered as I stepped closer, the heath almost devouring me as the red veins seemed even more alight underneath his tan and soft skin, heart beating out of the God’s chest as his eyes slowly opened, black eyelashes fluttering as they settled on my face.

“Please.” A God never pleaded, never fell to their knees in front of anyone. A God was strong and fearless, ready to devour anyone who dared disobey their command. I offered San a small smile as I leaned forward, lips parting just slightly before they made contact with the cut on San’s bicep, a whimper leaving the man’s lips upon the contact. And his eyes were glazed over as I pulled back, the taste of salt tangible on my tongue as I caressed his now healed bicep. San knew what to do, and with a deep breath he fell to his knees, hanging his head low as my hands caressed his cheeks before his jaw, settling around his neck. His skin was hot, flaming almost, gushing with life underneath all that heavy muscle and flesh, desperate for a gentle and understanding touch. I allowed my hands to travel lower, onto his shoulders, nimble fingers unclasping the harsh steel from around his defined shoulders. A pause, another sigh, and San stood tall once again, a calloused hand settling on my hip as he oh so gently pulled my body closer, my fingers itching the more blood they touched, which was now rusted onto his armor, the same armor that Hephaestus had designed for him upon the request of Zeus so that it would make San, his bellowed son, invincible. San’s sharp, but softening, eyes remained on my face as my hands first went around his middle, leaning my fragile body against his. It was sturdy, unmovable like a mountain, but it was also warm and gentle, a quiet promise that it would keep you safe from any evil. San’s fingers twitched before they dug into my hip, his armor sharp and cold against my own body, but I welcomed its closeness as San seemed to melt into the embrace, his tense muscles finally easing up at last. He could finally be vulnerable, bloody or not, in my eyes he was perfect and benevolent.

“Your battle must have been strenuous.” I spoke up, breaking the comfortable silence, as I gently peeled myself back from the embrace, fingers latching onto the clasps at the God’s middle, undoing them and letting the bloody armor fall to the ground, looking like it’s been broken in two. But it wasn’t, it was unbreakable just like its possessor.

“I have not had the opportunity to close my eyes for six days as of today.” His deep voice lost all the malice it usually carried, and my eyes remained focused on the dents and marks the armor has left on the poor God’s sun-kissed skin. My warm fingertips gently traced against them, the muscles flexing underneath them as the God hummed in content, both hands holding firmly onto my hips. I smiled as he leaned forward and gently rested his chin on top of my head, allowing me to trace the scars left by his ruthless armor, knowing that they’d disappear if I touched them. I closed my eyes as my fingertips reached them hem of his trousers, which weren’t made of steel but were magically enhanced so that there wouldn’t be a repeat of Achilles, and I leaned just a little bit forward to press kisses tracing his collarbones. The sighs the God let out were of pleasure and he hummed in appreciation as I untangled the knots of his trouser and gently pushed them down his hips, caressing his loins firmly as San groaned, nails digging through the thin fabric of my white translucent dress.

“Then we shall get inside the Lake.” I proposed and San hummed in agreement, grip not faltering as I stepped back to steer us inside the water. When our eyes found each other again, his were ablaze with want and need, but he knew he had to wait until we got inside the water. And so, he reluctantly released me and eagerly took my extended hand as I interlaced our fingers, a small and charming smile appearing on his face for the first time today. I chuckled and lead us back to the water, walking backwards as the smile only seemed to stretch on San’s lips, red veins ablaze and whole being glimmering in the light of the small clearing the Lake resided in, the clouds slowly uncovering the blazing sun as the weather reached my thighs, San’s body convulsing as it was overheated from the battle and the Lake would cool it down. I walked further inside, my body welcoming the familiar feel of the soft water brushing against myself, like a cocoon forming a protecting layer over it, my own armor.

San’s body shook when it was finally submerged, underwater, and I released his hand as I giggled and took a deep breath, to tease him, and dipped my head underwater. I opened my eyes and grinned as his legs kicked out to stay above water, never having been keen of having his head under the clear water of the Lake. His naked body looked almost translucent underwater and I swum around it, playfully nipping at the skin of his back, thighs, abdomen, calves, and chest, my teasing cut short when a strong hand seized me around the neck and yanked me above water, dark brown eyes coated with lust and cheeks flushed as our bodies pressed together, legs wrapping around his middle subconsciously.

“Rest now, my San.” I whispered, eyes fluttering shut as his hot breath fanned my face, heart thundering underneath the hand pressed against his chest.

“I’ll bring you a star on our next rendezvous.” His words were rushed, almost desperate before hot lips pressed against mine, devouring them with fervor, with desperation and a neediness that I fear will never be satiated.

            The forest was loud for once, animals buzzing around, a deer timidly coming down to our Lake to hydrate itself, and Yeri, our youngest naiad, lay giggling on the shore as she teased the deer by leading it around in circles with a string of water, until our eldest sister chastised her for tormenting the innocent creature. As our youngest sibling, she was rather mischievous and loved to play around whether it was with animals or humans. Younger men especially loved her, but she only enjoyed their company as long as they remained on land and her in water. She was the least trusting of anyone other than her naiad friends, thus why she had refused even Artemis’ offer of finding her a lover that would dearly cherish her.

I was laid back on a larger rock by the Lake, resting back on my elbows, my white dress almost completely dry as I swirled my toes around in the water, humming in contentment as my sisters voices meddled with mine as they were gathered towards the middle of the Lake, playing a tagging game. I smiled as I listened to their giggles and cheers, which were mixing with the beautiful songs the birds were singing, echoing our voices almost perfectly. The strong, divine, presence first gained our attention as everyone perked up, sensing it come closer as my body grew jittery. I curiously stood up, not expecting a visit from Artemis so soon, or another deity for the matter. But when my eyes fell on the approaching form in the distance, I instantly knew who it was. My eyebrows furrowed and my heart jumped in joy, but I couldn’t help feel concerned at the same time. San never visited unless he went to war, to a battle, and he had told me truce was laid upon the two settlements after they lost many men. He had no reason to visit, yet he was here. And my sisters shared my unease as they all grew warry, stopping their game as the eldest one called Yeri over, deeper into the water. I scrambled onto my feet and offered them a calm smile, not wanting them to panic and do something rash when it came to San. Understanding my request, they swum further away from the shore, only their eyes and the top of their heads visible as my feet touched the soft grass, San’s face now visible as he came closer.

Expecting complications and even a summoning to Olympus, instead, a bright smile decorated his lips, eyes crinkled and a skip to his confident steps as he hurried down the path having spotted me. Feeling confused but glad to see him nonetheless, I returned his smile and gasped when I was swept off my feet, his arms firm around my waist and twirling me around. I clung to his neck, lips brushing against his ear as I giggled, a similar sound leaving San’s lips. My heart skipped a few beats before it started beating faster altogether, every vertebrate in my being jittery as I realized this was the first time I have seen San so happy and relaxed, his sword nowhere in sight, and his armor polished and clean, glinting and carrying the scent of pine and musk instead of the salty stench of blood.

When he was done twirling me around, he placed me down on my feet, but kept his arms around my waist and leaned down hastily, warm and red lips pushing against mine. My eyes fluttered closed and I allowed myself to melt into him, cupping his cheek as our lips moved together softly, making it feel like it was the first time I was kissed by him. I felt my head whirl around and fingertips grow warm as San smiled into the kiss, apparently refusing to pull back just yet as he kept pressing little pecks against my plush lips. There was something about his demeanor that brought tears to my eyes, a side of San that I was seeing for the first time despite us knowing each other for an eternity now. I had dreamed of what a happy and free San looked like, a San that wasn’t tormented by a battle where he had to slay mortals and swallow their screams, feed off of the pure madness, hatred, and rage. I have prayed to Artemis to see a San that was so happy his whole body glowed from it, and now that I had him in my arms, laughing and kissing me, I couldn’t contain my own emotions.

“Why are you crying, my little nymph?” His voice carried worry as he caressed my cheek and swiftly wiped a stray teardrop from underneath my eye, eyebrows furrowing, “Have I made you sad? Perhaps even mad by showing up so unexpectedly?”

“No!” My voice raised without me meaning to do so, and my arms tightened around him as I pushed up on my tiptoes, ours noses grazing together as I stared inside his dark and soft brown eyes, “No, my San, I am beyond delighted to see you in such light. I have only dared to dream of seeing you one day happy and carefree.”

“My little nymph,” San whispered, expression faltering for a second as pain clouded his eyes, but it was quickly gone as I traced his high cheekbone with my forefinger, eyes taking in his beautiful features only a God was gifted with, “I had not known you harbored such wishes; I should have known seeing me always all roughed up after a battle brings you pain.”

“No, San,” I shook my head, a small smile appearing on my lips, “It brings me peace of mind and solace that I am the one you seek out after such feat, that I am the one you come to, to chase away your pain and fears after a battle.”

“Sometimes I see the stars in your eyes, Y/N.” San’s voice was merely a whisper as his hand gently brushed a strand of hair off my face and behind my ear, “When you look at me so deeply like right now, they sparkle with life and I see the cosmos in them. You are majestic underwater, but it will never come close to how you look when your eyes land on me.”

I gulped, feeling speechless as my cheeks grew hotter and darker in color, fingers tangling into the small hair on San’s nape. It was the first time his black hair wasn’t pushed back to make his eyes look even more piercing, but was rather soft looking and fluffy, hanging into his eyes as a dimple formed in his cheek as a wide grin made it onto his face again, “If my heart stops beating one day, I wish you to be the last thing I see before I must go.”

San shook his head, eyebrows furrowing again as he held onto my face, leaning so close his lips brushed against mine when he spoke, “You shall never leave me first, I promise you’ll be here until my last worshipper perishes, and even then I do not wish to take you with myself into the Underworld.”

“We won’t go to the Underworld, San.” He gulped as our gazes bore into each other and then he nodded, wordlessly and looking a little defeated, releasing my face as he cleared his throat. Sensing that he had something important to say, I released him and stepped back a little bit, watching him curiously as he reached inside his armor, pursing his lips as if he couldn’t find what he was looking for. I took my time to pay close attention to him, to take in his all like this, so that I could replay it when I missed him most. The way the sunlight fell on him made his caramel skin glow even more, face relaxed and a smile almost always present on his red lips, eyebrows unfrowned for once and expression serene as his muscles remained lax, not even a bit tense. When he finally found what he was looking for, he made a sound of triumph and I smiled a little wider, looking at him with big eyes as he pulled a collar out of his armor. I couldn’t determine what it was for, or whether it was a necklace or a collar, but when he opened his palm and raised it up for me to see better, I gasped in shock. There, worked into the steel that looked a lot like the one his armor had, was a little glowing star shining almost blindingly up at me.

“I promised to bring you a star,” San said quietly and then turned me around gently, pulling my black hair from around my shoulders to one side only, “I wish you keep something of mine on yourself, for protection.”

My lips pulled into a small grin as the cold steel touched the base of my neck, “You wish for everyone to know who I belong to upon one glance, don’t you, my greedy little possessor?”

San chuckled behind me as I felt him secure the clasp, his voice just a little bit deeper when he spoke up again, “You know me too well, my little nymph.”

His lips brushed against my ear and I turned my head to look up in his eyes, heart beating out of my chest, “Thank you, San, like the star around my neck, I’ll continue gazing at you as if you were my own personal star.”

A beat of silence passed between us before I felt San’s body press up against mine from behind, hand coming up to cradle my jaw and hold it firm as he leaned down into a searing kiss as reward for my words, as reward for allowing him to claim me in front of all Gods and Goddesses.

            Not long after San’s visit, another deity seemed to be keen of visiting our humble Lake Naia. Albeit, this Goddess has never been too fond of our existence right at the feet of Mountain Olympus as she had claimed we’ve been charming her men away from her. She could have anyone, she had everyone, us mere Naiads could never live up to her beauty and charms, but she failed to see and understand that. My sisters and I had been gathered around the rocks, just by the shore, giggling about the latest gossip we have heard through Hermes’s secret lover, having been accomplice to the kidnapping that he had planned for Iris. We have sworn secrecy to her and Hermes, and swore to keep her safe and hidden from Zeus as long as she sometimes indulged to our gossipy nature and came down to the Lake for a bath where she’d share all her stories as she lived in the closest settlement, Dion. An outcast Goddess had been wreaking havoc lately there and Iris was trying to find ways to warn men without the other deity catching on, but Hermes is too scared Atë would tell Zeus of his once prized seer’s whereabouts and thus had forbidden Iris from meddling with the other Goddesses shenanigans.

The birds songs grew louder and the foxes ran out of the bushes as a light breeze entered the clearing the Lake resided in, and the strong scent of roses and pomegranate invaded our senses as my sisters and I became alert to the presence of a deity other than the two we would welcome here so often. The lower half of my dress was soaked as I had dangled it in the water prior, and due to Yeri, my long black hair was now tangled into intricate twists with flowers secured in it. The cold steel necklace sat snuggly against my neck, the star softly buzzing at all times and sometimes humming along to my songs. The giggles and laughter died down as the approaching presence took its time apparently, taking in everything our humble abode had to offer her. My eyes stayed on her, closely watching her every move, and I felt the strength leave my legs upon realizing who it was. I felt my cheeks heat up all of a sudden, the steel necklace too heavy around my neck as my lungs seized up, almost suffocating me. Yeri, always quick to catch the change in someone’s mood, intertwined her fingers with mine and squeezed them gently, offering comfort in the subtlest of ways.

“Ah, Lake Naia,” The Goddess’ voice was melodic and soft, yet it carried over the space between her and us, “I have heard so many stories about this place, but never truly had the itch to come and see it for myself. You have bewitched quite a few men, my little nymphs, both mortal and immortal, do you know?”

Her piercing eyes fell on me as she finally reaches us by the rocks, making me gulp as I averted my eyes, looking at our eldest naiad as she stood gracefully, a pleasant smile on her lips as she approached the Goddess.

“Aphrodite, my Goddess, what brings you to our humble home?” The naiad curtsied and Aphrodite chuckled, looking around. A dove flew overhead and I felt goosebumps erupt on my skin underneath the white dress as the star became a little bit too hot against my skin.

“I have come to bathe in the Lake that chases away all your fears and terrors.” The Goddess said, suddenly unlacing the top of her yellow tunic, leaving her bare to our eyes, “At least that is what everyone claims this place accomplishes.”

“My Goddess, we would love to have you bathe in our lake.” The eldest naiad smiled, stepping aside to let the Goddess walk towards the lake, “We’ll take away all your worries, just as you wish.”

“I want her to bathe me.” A perfect milky finger was pointed towards me and my lungs seized up again, a lump suddenly forming in my throat as I opened my mouth to speak up, but my vocal chords felt like they were being crushed. Yeri grew tense next to me, her grip on me tightening as she stood in front of me protectively, glaring at the Goddess. She was fearless, she looked the lions in the eyes and challenged them without any fear for the repercussions.

“Aphrodite, my Goddess, I am afraid she will not be able to bathe you.” The eldest naiad tried to save the situation, the air growing tense as my vocal chords started to burn and I gasped, grasping at my neck helplessly.  

“She has been claimed by Ares!” It was Yeri’s shrill voice that tore through the clearing, making our sisters gasp around us as finally the pressure from my vocal cords was gone and my lungs also eased up, forcing me to intake large gulps of air, “She cannot touch any other deity than San himself, my Goddess, but you knew that already, did you not?”

“A Naiad with a sharp tongue, how refreshing.” Aphrodite chuckled as I yanked on Yeri’s hand and gave her a harsh stare for being inconsiderate and rude to a Goddess that could turn her into foam within a blink of an eye.

“I apologize, my Goddess, for her rudeness, she is still young and has to learn much.” I bowed my head deeply as I went to stand next to our eldest naiad sister, “I promise to teach her some manners myself, do not punish her just yet, I beg of you—”

“Like you have begged my husband to bed you?” A malicious smile grazed her lips, “Well…bed you, figuratively speaking as you seem to lack of beds in this place, pity, he fucks hardest when he has a headboard to hold onto.”

My jaw clenched as her comment felt like a punch to my ego, tears threatening to prick my eyes as Yeri came to stand next to me, standing just slightly more forward, but when she opened her mouth to speak up, the Goddess beat her to it, “You thought you could fuck my husband and I wouldn’t know? I know everything that happens inside and outside of Olympus, you little minx.”

“Then why does it bother you just now?” I gulped down the fear that bubbled through my system, and looked the Goddess in the eyes as I continued with my question, “Why just now when you’ve known all along what your husband was up to?”

For a second, Aphrodite seemed to freeze, but then slowly, her eyes fell onto the necklace that sat securely around my neck. He’d claimed me, San he had claimed me, meanwhile Aphrodite never quite loved any of his secret lovers to the point that she’d claim them. It hurt her, because it showed San was devoted to me, that he had given me a piece of himself, that he promised of a little particle of his heart that didn’t belong to Aphrodite anymore. Her ego was bruised and she couldn’t deal with the thought of a nymph stealing something that was once hers. She didn’t need to answer the question, her silence spoke volumes like her answer could never.

“Stray clear of my path if you do not wish to turn into foam, little nymph, or perhaps pray to Artemis to keep you safe from Zeus.” My sisters gasped as my lips quivered, dread filling my body at the thought of getting touched by Zeus. Even if a God claims you, Zeus can still do whatever he wants to you. His word and power were grater than any other Gods. I did not wish to come across Zeus, ever, terrified that he’d break me.

And just as quickly as Aphrodite had appeared, the foxes ran through the bushes one more time, a white dove flying over Lake Naia, and then she was gone, her sweet scent carried away by the wind that seemed to bring rain clouds with itself.

            The days and nights passed by sluggishly, almost as if to taunt me, fear rooting deeply into my bones as I preferred to stay underwater most these days, not keen of coming across any deity. Artemis managed to coax me outside and blessed me, promised protection once again, having heard of Aphrodite’s visit, whispering that San has been at war for a month now. Nobody knew anything about him as he just disappeared one night, but they knew he was alive, he’d send scrolls to his father, Zeus, and updated him about the advancement of the war. When the evenings started feeling lonely, despite the presence of my sisters, I felt my little star humming just a little louder for me to hear and burning warmer, warming my chest from the inside out. I found it my only solace as I yearned for my God, but was scared of what would happen if I allowed him close again.

The stars had been long up on the night sky, high up and shining down brightly, almost as if calling out to its kin that now shimmered in the dark around my neck. I continued to gaze up at them, floating on the dark surface of the Lake, crickets creating a serene cacophony as my sisters’ hums have long subsided as they have gone to sleep. I have found myself grow more restless than usual tonight, the stars calling out and coaxing me to stay awake as if to look over our home, protect it from unwelcomed guests. And when the clearing grew eerily quiet and the stench of death invaded my senses, I gasped and submerged, watching as a dark figure approached the water with almost sluggish moves. My body yearned to feel his warm touch and my heart started racing in my chest, but I did not move. I watched, not too far from the shore, as he came to an abrupt stop just before the water could reach his feet, and he gently placed his sword onto the ground.

“My little nymph.” His voice was quiet, tired, and rough sounding. Tears pricked at my eyes but I forced myself to go just a little bit deeper underneath, the star around my neck pulsing ferociously. My body felt on fire from it, but I refused to act upon my desperate wishes, “Y/N, my little star, where are you?”

My lips quivered and I turned, clutching the star desperately as it started calling out faintly, whether for its kin or for the God that had gifted it to me, I couldn’t tell. The swift clinking of steel and its clasp being undone echoed loudly in the silent clearing and the water was suddenly disturbed as I whirled around, eyes growing wide as I watched my God rush inside the water. It colored the water red around himself, more so than usually, and my heart clenched upon noticing the countless bruises decorating his legs and the gash close to his groin. Who dared wound up my San like that?

I felt helpless as my body acted before I could consider my next actions, and I quickly swum closer, lips touching the large gash underwater, eager to heal his perfectly sculpted body. San’s gasp was loud above water, and before I could swim away, large and calloused hands gripped at my shoulders and yanked me above, making me gasp out loudly as water dripped from my hair onto my face. San’s eyes were wide and streaks of tears made his cheeks shine under the starlight, and I gulped, eyebrows furrowed as I helplessly traced his forehead, wiping the excess blood from there and from his temples.

“My little nymph, why would you hide from me?” San sounded breathless as his eyes desperately searched my face, grip growing stronger as it slipped to my arms, “Do you not love me anymore?”

My eyebrows furrowed and my heart squeezed as I pushed at his hard chest, fury licking at my insides all of a sudden, “How dare you doubt my love for you, San?!”

“You refused to show yourself to me,” His voice grew hard, but his dark eyes remained soft, “You weren’t waiting by the Lake for me, you didn’t undress me, you refused to bathe me. You must not love me anymore—”

“I allowed you to claim me!” I hissed, gripping his jaw tightly, his eyes finally hardening as I got closer to him, “I allowed you to claim me with something of yours, and you doubt my love for you after you disappeared without notice?!”

“I must hear your reasoning before I forgive you.” My eyebrows furrowed and I bit my lower lip, Aphrodite’s words echoing in my head. I’d be turned into foam, and then, all the love I harbor for my God will be lost, felt in vain, unfulfilled.

“She will turn me into foam, you have angered her, my possessor.” My voice was merely a whisper, but loud enough in the silent clearing, in the serene Lake. I didn’t have to name her; San knew who I was referring to.

“Once a God claims something as theirs, nobody is allowed to touch it, not even a Goddess out of spite, my little nymph,” San’s tone was strong and confident, carried no room for an argument, “And I, Y/N, I love you with my whole soul and promise to protect you until my last worshipper dies and I perish with them.”

“Then you shall never perish,” I cupped his cheeks, my legs securing around his hips as San’s hand slipped to my back, holding me flushed against himself, “Because I am immortal like yourself, I shall never die and you shall never perish with me.”

A strong emotion that could be only described as adoration crossed San’s features before his eyes closed and his lips pressed against mine, making me cling onto him as our lips moved in a dance that made my heart thunder in my chest, rhythm syncing up with his heartbeat, beating together and for one another. The stars shined perhaps brighter that night as San carried us out onto the rocks, laying me down gently and reassuring me that I would be alright, that as long as he was by my side nothing and no one would hurt me. And his lips sealed the promise as his warm body covered mine, sinking slowly inside me, our souls uniting as my back arched and the star around my neck hummed louder than ever before. San’s each and every single kiss carried a whispered promise as it traveled from my jaw to my neck, nibbling at my collarbones as his thrusts stayed sharp and deep, my fingernails digging deeply into his shoulders, marking him up for everyone to see, for Aphrodite to find tomorrow and rage in her pretty bedroom as she isn’t able to do anything about it.

San’s name left my lips almost in a mantra, almost as if I was praying to a God that answered all my prayers and fulfilled all of my wishes, head thrown back and tears trailing down by cheeks as I saw the stars behind my eyes. San feared no God and he had no fear of breaking me as his thrusts became ruthless, pelvis slamming against mine, making me cry out his name repeatedly, finding anchor in his black messy hair and on the rock I was laid onto, the sounds he made growing louder within seconds as he grew closer to his own release. His hands found purchase on my hips as he threw his head back, losing himself in the feeling of pure bliss and euphoria, glazing up at the stars that never shined brighter than my own eyes.

And with my name undyingly on his lips, I knew if I were cursed to become a star one day, I would do so gladly knowing that he saw stars in my eyes, loved me enough to bring down one for me, cherished me enough to promise a death where we’d flicker away at once.

❱❱ Next star

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[tongue-like-a-razor]

Brother's Best Friend - Part 10

Jake Seresin x F!Reader

A/N: I'm baaaack! Oh how I've missed these two idiots XD Thanks to everyone who sent in ideas for what should happen AFTER THE KISS!

Summary: The trials and tribulations of falling for your brother's best friend.

CW: swearing, shirtless Jake, SHIRTLESS JAKE, fluff, Jake's arms, did I mention shirtless Jake?

WC: ~2800

Part 1 | Masterlist

There are a lot of things you regret in life, but bombing your psych midterm because you were too busy making out with Jake Seresin to study is not one of them. Sure, you might not have remembered the ins and outs of Jungian archetypes, but you sure as hell can recite from memory every single word that had fallen out of Jake’s mouth following the inaugural kiss. You might have been a bit hazy on the details surrounding the birth of behaviorism, but you could certainly attest to the effectiveness of positive reinforcement in the form of Jake’s lips rewarding every correctly answered flash card. Thus, despite leaving the exam room with the sinking feeling that your GPA just took a nosedive, you couldn’t be happier.

Your excitement is short-lived, however, because you walk into the house to the unsettling sounds of grunting. You end up dropping your book bag loudly on the floor in an effort to alert any unsuspecting individuals of your arrival before you happen upon a scene you have no interest in witnessing.

But the groaning doesn’t subside, and you find yourself inching cautiously toward the living room, gripped by a nauseating curiosity. Slowly, you creep through the kitchen and peek around the wall into the living room. But what you see, albeit somewhat strange, is not exactly out of the ordinary. What you see is two grown men doing push-ups on your living room floor.

“Uhh,” you utter, stepping into the room to get a better look at the two of them positioned between the armchair and the coffee table.

Neither one looks up at you. They continue grunting into the carpeted floor against every thrust and then breathing heavily into the silence on their way back down. In unison. Shirtless.

“Okay, I’ll just…” you pause, waiting to see if your presence might be acknowledged before you continue speaking. Several seconds go by without any sort of greeting, as if they haven’t even noticed you enter, so you resume, “I’ll just go wait in the kitchen.”

No response.

“I’ll make myself a sandwich,” you add, your eyes inadvertently landing on the rippling muscles of Jake’s back as his shoulder blades contract.

Before you’re completely entranced by the hypnotic movement of Jake Seresin’s body, you shake your head and head back to the kitchen. But, just as you make your way out, you hear Jake’s strained voice, “We’re counting.”

You glance over your shoulder, but he isn’t looking at you; his mouth is taut and his nostrils are flaring and he winces slightly as he straightens his arms again. You decide not to interrupt them further and retreat into the kitchen to fix yourself some lunch.

You wander back in several minutes later, a jam sandwich in hand, and raise your eyebrows as your brother and your, well, Jake, finally finish with a host of groans and obscenities, and laboriously get to their feet.

You glance between the two of them as they pant and take a bite of your sandwich. Until this very moment, you had no idea how you would navigate your situation with Jake in Bradley’s presence. It wasn’t something that you and Jake had a chance to discuss over the course of the previous evening and you had been hoping to postpone the encounter for at least another day.

However, now that you’re all in the same room, you realize that nothing much has changed; Bradley and Jake are still up to their usual antics, and you are still critically observing them from the sidelines.

“Three sets,” Jake breathes heavily as he rolls his shoulders and meets your gaze. “Of a hundred.”

You stare at him mutely, wondering what kind of reaction he’s expecting you to have whilst your brother stands three feet away. You pull your lips into a tight smile and nod approvingly. “If only you put this much effort into keeping track of your socks,” you respond wryly, noticing the pair that’s tucked into the corner of the armchair; the third that you’ve located in the living room this week.

Jake bows his head and Bradley lets out a snort. “I have hot feet,” Jake mutters to the floor.

You eye the veins along his forearms – more pronounced than usual after his workout – and decide conclusively that his feet are not the exception.

Bradley, who’s just finished guzzling half a bottle of water, hums at you to get your attention. Immediately, you tear your gaze from Jake’s veiny hands and blink up at your brother in alarm, certain that he’s already caught on to you since you can’t seem to stop gawking at his best friend. Bradley grins, his eyes bright with excitement. “So,” he says, “how was your study date?” His smile widens slyly.

You stare at him awkwardly, not daring to look at Jake, even when the latter chokes on his water. Clearly, he has not said a word to Bradley about the events of the previous evening.

Bradley watches you expectantly, ignoring Jake’s coughing fit. “Uh,” you start, your voice sounding unusually fuzzy. “It was, um,” you clear your throat, still not looking at Jake as he finally straightens his back and takes another enormous gulp of water.

Bradley lifts his eyebrows. “That good, huh?” he asks with a chuckle.

You feel your palms start to sweat and it takes a great deal of willpower to keep them steady at your sides rather than rubbing them together and wiping them on your thighs. “Pretty good,” you say weakly, avoiding direct eye contact with your brother.

“Get much studying done?” Bradley asks, picking his shirt up off the couch and pulling it over his head.

You briefly lock eyes with Jake. “Some,” you croak, in response to which Bradley shakes his head knowingly.

“How’d you do on your midterm?” Jake asks, finally setting his water bottle down.

You hold his gaze timidly, not sure how long you can get away with looking right at him. “I probably could have done better,” you confess.

Jake winces slightly. “Shit, really?” he asks, sounding genuinely concerned.

“We warned you,” Bradley calls in a singsong voice as he heads out of the living room. “That dude wasn’t looking to study, and you fell for it.”

Jake tilts his head to the side and rubs the back of his neck guiltily. “Maybe he tried,” he says, still grimacing.

Bradley stops short of the entrance to the kitchen and looks back at him. “Yeah, right,” he says. “Is that what you would do?” he asks him.

Jake’s face visibly pales and he stammers out, “M-me? What kind of question is that?” He clears his throat and adds, “Even.”

“You definitely would not have tried,” Bradley says. Then, he looks at you pointedly. “Next time, just study at home. Trust me.”

You nod, trying not to think too hard about how ineffective studying at home has proved, in fact, to be.

“Want a protein shake, bro?” Bradley asks before disappearing into the kitchen.

“Yeah, man,” Jake calls back. “Thanks.”

The two of you stand very still for a moment, not looking at one another. Then, Jake bends down to grab his muscle shirt off the floor.

“Sucks about your test,” he says, his head hanging so low that his chin nearly rests on his clavicle.

“Yeah,” you agree quietly, suddenly uneasy now that it’s just the two of you in the room.

Jake draws the shirt over his head and then wearily drags a hand over his face. “I’m sorry,” he says, looking at you guiltily.

You shrug nonchalantly and give him a small smile. “It wasn’t your fault.”

He pulls his shirt down over his torso casually, but it’s probably the single most sexy thing you’ve ever witnessed. He sighs and says, “I feel responsible,” but all you could really pay any attention to is the sliver of stomach that he’s so carelessly left exposed. If anything, it’s entirely irresponsible.

You purse your lips and eye him humorously. “Well, that’s very self-centered of you.”

Jake laughs at your comment and you breathe a sigh of relief as the tension between you slowly dissipates.

“Dude, you coming?” Bradley calls, popping his head back in to check on Jake. “First fifteen minutes are crucial!”

“Be right there,” Jake responds and, grabbing his two stray socks off the armchair, starts for the kitchen.

You wander in after him to put your plate in the sink and Jake all but leaps out of your way when you get too close.

Bradley leans into the counter and speaks again, “So, apparently Jake had a wild night.”

The plate starts to slip out of your hand before you make it all the way to the sink, and you sort of toss it the rest of the way. It clatters against the basin but thankfully remains intact. “Oh yeah?” you ask in a high-pitched voice while Bradley watches you curiously.

“I didn’t say wild,” Jake clarifies, shifting his weight uncomfortably as he tries to find a less awkward way to rest his entire frame against the slightly protruding door of the refrigerator.

Bradley makes a face at him. “I paraphrased.”

You try not to smile as you ask, “What happened?” You glance at Jake mischievously as he digs himself further into the corner. The fact that he’s disclosed any details to Bradley is shocking, to say the least.

“Oh, just that he finally made a move on a chick he’s been obsessing over for weeks,” Bradley says with a proud grin.

While you try to process the words ‘for weeks’, Jake counters moodily, “I was not obsessing, dude. Come on.”

You lift your eyes slowly to meet his gaze and he glances at you reluctantly.

“Please, you never shut up about her!” Bradley cries.

Jake exhales sharply and glares over at Bradley, but he doesn’t deny his assertion.

“Who is she?” you ask hesitantly, ignoring the pointed stare you get from Jake as you direct your question at Bradley.

Bradley shrugs. “I don’t know her.”

You raise your eyebrows. “Are you sure?”

Jake scoffs in the background while Bradley grimaces. “No, but he won’t tell me, so I’ve stopped asking.”

You withhold a smile and say quietly, “Wonder what she’s like.”

Jake rolls his eyes. “For the love of god –”

But his complaint is interrupted by Bradley when he says, “Apparently, she’s insanely hot –”

“Rooster,” Jake cuts him off sternly, pushing himself off the refrigerator to square his shoulders intimidatingly.

“What?” Bradley chuckles as you bite into your cheek to suppress a grin. “Those were your exact words!”

“Enough,” Jake says, glaring at him threateningly.

“Relax, it’s just my sister,” Bradley says, attempting to diffuse the situation gracefully. “She won’t tell a soul.”

You bat your eyelashes at Jake innocently. “Promise,” you assure him.

Jake narrows his eyes at you subtly. “Tell us more about your date,” he says, cleverly taking the heat off himself.

You lower your gaze and respond with, “It wasn’t a date.”

“But will there be one in the future?” Bradley asks.

You glance back at Jake instinctively before addressing your brother, “Not that I know of.”

Jake chugs the remainder of his shake and walks over to the sink to rinse the glass. He rests his hip on the counter right next to you and asks, “Would you go?”

You look up at him hesitantly, apprehensive about his proximity, even though he still stands a good two feet away. “Where?”

“On a date,” Jake clarifies. “If he asks.”

You gulp nervously, looking back at your equally curious-looking brother. The truth is, you’re afraid of showing all your cards so early in the game. Jake Seresin isn’t a dater, he doesn’t go out with the same girl multiple times. And if he’s only with you because you’re ‘insanely hot’ – his words – he might be spooked by an overzealous response. “I don’t know.” You shrug. “Haven’t thought about it.”

“Bullshit,” Bradley interjects obnoxiously.

“I agree,” Jake adds.

You clamp your jaw tightly, mildly annoyed at Jake for making you the target of conversation yet again. “Are you planning on asking insanely hot girl out?” you enquire aggressively, fixing Jake with an accusing glower.

“How do you know I haven’t already?” Jake asks in a patronizing tone.

You glare at him through squinted eyes. “Wild guess.”

“Of course, he’s gonna ask her out,” Bradley chimes in. “As soon as he stops wigging out about it.”

Jake gives him a peeved look before glancing back at you. “I’m considering it,” he says vaguely.

“Please,” Bradley scoffs and Jake shoots him another ominous glare. “There’s nothing he would want more.”

“That’s not true,” Jake mutters monotonously while you scrutinize the evasive movements of his eyes.

“You literally told me that –”

“Bradley!” Jake shouts. “Shut up!”

Bradley grimaces. “Since when do we keep secrets around here?”

“Since I fucking said so,” Jake retorts.

You glance between the two of them awkwardly and then look down at your feet, stretching out the already uncomfortable silence. You try not to dwell on what your brother has said but Jake wanting nothing more than to take you on a date has you feeling all kinds of giddy. Hesitantly, you say, “I’d probably say yes.” You bite your lip and add, “To study group guy – if he asks.”

Bradley nods, unsurprised. And you don’t dare check on Jake’s reaction. But before you could second guess your confession, Jake says, “He’ll ask.” You steal a glance at him and he catches your gaze. “He’d be an idiot not to.”

You give him a small, half-smile – the half that’s not visible from your brother’s vantage point. But Bradley seems to have lost interest in the topic now that he’s been censored because he starts to shuffle out of the kitchen.

“Hey Bradley!” you call after him. “How was your date?”

Bradley stops and spins to face you. “Finally!” he exclaims.

You smirk at him. “Did she like your shirt?”

Bradley grins. “She loved my shirt.”

“She loved it so much, she kept it,” Jake adds.

Your jaw drops in shock when Bradley yells, “Hey! So, it’s alright to air my dirty laundry?”

“Technically, now she’s got your dirty laundry,” you point out and Jake high fives you.

Bradley shakes his head, but he’s still smiling. “Real mature,” he says. “At least I had the balls to ask her out.” With that, he finally exits the kitchen.

You start after him when your feel Jake’s hand brush gently across the small of your back. You turn to face him and he rests it confidently on your hip. You wonder what he’s going to say but, just when you’re about to articulate your curiosity, he leans down and kisses you square on the mouth. His fingers slide into the hair at the nape of your neck as he takes a hold of your face and, as his thumb sweeps languidly back and forth across your cheekbone, you absently speculate on just how big his hand must be to support your head in such a way. You’re so engrossed in this calculation, in fact, that you nearly miss the moment his tongue enters the equation.

Of course, all of this happens so quickly that, before you can really even kiss him in return, he’s already taking a step back and glancing at the doorway to make sure that Bradley isn’t there.

You graze your teeth over your bottom lip, trying to contain your widening smile as you meet his gaze. It’s nice to know that Jake still wants to kiss you today just as badly as he did yesterday. So much so that he’s willing to risk Bradley walking in on you. You let yourself ogle him overtly for a moment, admiring his tanned arms and the little bit of chest that you could see above the low neckline of his muscle shirt. Then, you say, “I want to hear more about this insanely hot girl you won’t shut up about.”

Jake cringes, busying himself with the dishes sitting in the dishrack. “I’m not sure you’d get along. She’s very confrontational.” He puts away a couple of bowls into a cupboard.

You let out a shocked gasp as if you're offended. “Seriously?”

“Oh yeah,” Jake turns back to face you, grinning as he throws a dishtowel over his shoulder. “Super intense. A little scary.”

“I don’t know, she sounds like a catch,” you say, taking a small step toward him. “I mean, according to Bradley, you’ve been obsessing over her for weeks!”

Jake shakes his head with a chuckle and, pulling you in to give you a quick peck on the side of your head, he mutters into your hair, “I’m gonna kill your brother.”

Read Part 11

Hangman Tag List:

A/N: The rest of the list will be in the comments. As always, let me know if you don't want to be tagged anymore.

[hotshotsxyz]

beer & apologies

(buddie) (722 words) (7x04 coda)

It’s late, later than any reasonable person would show up on a friend’s doorstep, but Buck’s got this bright, warm feeling in his chest and all he wants to do is apologize so he can share it. For a split second he thinks about knocking, but that feels a little too much like going backwards. Instead, he lets himself in and hangs his key on the hook.

“Eddie,” he calls quietly into the still house.

“Kitchen.” The reply is soft, easy, like Eddie was expecting him.

Buck steps into the room and holds up the beer he brought.

Eddie looks up at him and grins, soft and warm in the glow of the lamplight. “What’s that for?”

“This is ‘sorry for acting like a teenager and spraining your ankle’ beer,” Buck says, scrubbing a hand through his hair. “Seriously, I’m sorry.”

Eddie sighs and pushes an empty chair back from the table with his foot, gesturing for Buck to sit. “I’m sorry too,” he says.

“No, no, you don’t—" Buck starts.

“Yeah, I do,” Eddie interrupts with a wry grin. “You should definitely be sorry-er, though, so I’ll take the beer.”

Buck snorts and sits, setting the six pack on the table between them.

“We didn’t—well, I didn’t…”

“I know,” Buck says. “I was just—”

“I know,” Eddie says softly.

A few, quiet moments pass, and it’s comfortable, exactly what Buck was missing the last couple of days.

“Hey,” Eddie says suddenly, sitting up a little straighter, “at least now I know why you always said no to basketball.” He smiles, loose and just a tiny bit mischievous.

Buck splutters. “What? No! I wasn’t that bad,” he protests.

Eddie lifts his injured ankle and raises an eyebrow.

“Okay, well maybe, but—”

“Uh-uh,” Eddie says, “no buts. You haven many talents, Buck, but basketball isn’t one of them.”

Buck ducks his head and grins. “Maybe I’ll get Tommy to teach me, then I can beat you without playing dirty.” Saying Tommy’s name out loud gives birth to a few giddy butterflies in his stomach.

“You two make up?” Eddie asks.

“Yeah,” Buck says. “He uh—texted me.” The butterflies turn to little rocks.

“Good,” Eddie says, “that’s good.” He grabs a beer and twists the top off. “I really think you guys will get along, if you give him a chance.”

“We, um. Yeah. We probably will.” Buck grabs a beer of his own and stares at the label.

He doesn’t—he didn’t mean to lie. It just kind of… came out. Which, it’s Eddie. Buck knows he could tell him exactly what happened, right now, and it’d be fine. It’d be completely fine because it’s Eddie and he knows Eddie would be cool about it, probably even happy for him! But when he goes to open his mouth it just. Doesn’t.

“How’s—uh. How’s Marisol?” he asks instead, tripping over his words.

Eddie shrugs. “She’s fine, same as always. Apparently Christopher got her to play Fortnite, which, according to him, was a disaster.”

Buck laughs, shaking his head. “That kid,” he says softly.

“That kid,” Eddie agrees. He takes another swig of beer and sits back.

“Hey, wait,” Buck says suddenly. He lurches forward and snags the bottle out of Eddie’s hand. “You can’t have this, you’re on pain killers.”

“It’s my apology beer!” Eddie protests.

“Nope, two sips is plenty. I can’t hurt your ankle and your liver on the same day.”

“It’s after midnight, it’s tomorrow,” Eddie pouts. “Give it.” He makes a halfhearted attempt to grab it back, but Buck holds the beer aloft.

“Nuh-uh, absolutely not,” Buck says. “You can drink your apology beer this weekend.”

“My apology beer is going to be flat and stale,” Eddie replies, unimpressed.

Buck rolls his eyes. “I’ll buy you a new apology beer, alright?”

“Promises, promises.”

“I will!”

“Yeah, yeah,” Eddie laughs. “You better. Want to bring it over on Saturday? We can watch the game.”

Buck’s grin falters a little bit, even as that warm feeling bubbles up in his chest all over again. “I uh- can’t, sorry.”

“What, you got a hot date or something?” Eddie asks with a laugh.

Buck takes a long swallow from the beer he stole from Eddie. “Yeah, something,” he says with a hollow laugh.

He feels like a liar.

[hazbinwhoree]

Come Inside

Part 2/2

A/N: The heavily requested part two.

“Well you fucking did it,” (Name) announced, storming into the living room where Adam was watching TV. “Did what,” he asked, mouth full of the ribs he was eating. (Name) threw something at him.

“Hey!” he yelped, the small object bouncing off his shoulder. He picked it up and the world stopped for a moment. It was a pregnancy test. And it was positive.

“Are you fucking with me?” Adam asked after a moment. “Does that look like I am fucking with you?” She had a point. (Name) was watching him anxiously. Adam looked back at her. “Are you okay?” he asked.

“I… I don’t know. How do you feel?” “Like I made good on a promise,” Adam smirked. (Name) threw a pillow at his head. “This is serious!” “I am serious!” Adam protested. “I said I’d put a baby in you and I did. You had no fuckin’ objections when we were doing it.”

(Name) groaned, flopping onto the couch next to him. “You’re telling me that you are ready to be a dad?” Adam placed a hand over his heart in mock hurt. “You say that like it’s an insane notion. I knew the risks, I knew this was a possibility. I wouldn’t have taken the chance if I wasn’t ready for it.”

(Name) teared up.

“Oh, shit, do you not want this?”

(Name) shook her head. “No, it’s just the hormones and the fact you actually want to have a baby with me.”

Adam laughed, pulling her into his lap. “Of course I want to have a baby with you. I wouldn’t have a baby with anyone else. Well, Eve, but I never raised Cain and Abel. In fact I was a completely absent dad–” “Babe.” Adam laughed, thinking about it. “I don’t know if that’s funny,” (Name) said.

Adam cleared his throat. “Point is, you make me want to be a father so long as you’re the mother.”

“You’re not gonna leave me and the baby like you left Cain and Abel?”

“Babe, Eve had Cain and Abel like right before she cheated on me. I wasn’t fuckin’ sticking around. Those kids are a mess too–” he laughed. “One killed the other!”

(Name) rolled her eyes, punching his shoulder. “The things you find funny are so fucked.” “Yeah but you love me,” Adam cooed, licking her cheek. (Name) squealed. “I hate when you do that! Just kiss me like a normal person, asshole!” Adam cackled.

The first trimester, it still hadn’t become a permanent thought in Adam’s head that he was going to be a father.

The second trimester, it became much more real and they started considering baby names and preparing a nursery.

The third trimster, was really bad for (Name). She was constantly exhausted, sore, hungry but sick to her stomach. The baby really did a number on her. By the time nine months rolls around, (Name) is more than ready to get this child out of her.

“GET IT OUT OF ME!” She screamed after pushing once. “Push again!” the midwife encouraged. (Name) screamed as she did.

Adam watched on in horror. He wasn’t there to witness Cain and Abel’s births, so he had no idea how brutal and scary childbirth was. He stroked back hair off her sweaty forehead, letting her squeeze the life out of his other hand.

Every time she screamed, Adam lost his shit a little bit.

“And push!” With one final push and a pained yell, (Name) delivered their baby.

It was a baby girl.

Adam had been reconsidering his eligibility for fatherhood. But when the nurse cleaned their baby off and placed her on (Name)’s chest, Adam was determined not to ruin a good thing. He may not be looking forward to the responsibilities of a father, but he would take them on for her sake.

In the following weeks, he really tries to help with the baby equally, but he’s pretty bad at it. He’d offered to take a few night shifts but would sleep straight through the baby’s crying, leaving (Name) to go soothe her. But he learned how to prepare a bottle of milk, and he learned how to change dirty diapers.

To his surprise, he actually didn’t find it all that difficult to bond with his child. (Name) even caught him baby talking once, which he fervently denies.

Months go by, and their daughter surprises them with her very first word… “Fuck!”

(Name) is appalled, Adam thinks it’s hilarious. She berates Adam for setting a bad example for the baby, when she shocks them with her second word. “Bitch.” Clear as day. Adam picks their daughter up and praises her. (Name) hits Adam’s arm.

Adam does his best to be a good husband and father, and while he’s not great at it, he is a present father and a loving husband.

[danikamariewrites]

daddy az please and thanks!!

(i want a baby so bad rn im abt to ask the man for one)

Dad!Azriel headcanons

Azriel x reader

Notes: i don’t want kids but i would have his babies (also sorry this is short)

Warnings: slight mention of childbirth

When you told him that you’re pregnant he was so happy. Crazy overjoyed and couldn’t believe that you guys were going to be parents

He was a worrier during your pregnancy

Az hovered A LOT. He just wanted to make sure you were safe and comfy

“Azzy, I told you I’m fine. The babe is fine.” You would say to him. “I know, I’m sorry. I just can’t help it.” He’d say, pulling you into a hug

You didn’t mind that much though. You were glad Azriel was protective of his family

You knew you and your babe would never have to fear anything because of your mate

When the day came for your child to come into the world you were extremely calm having Madja by your side

The old healer had to kick him out of the room because of his hovering and never ending questions, only letting him back in when you were starting to push

You had given birth to a beautiful baby boy that immediately became the light of your lives

A few weeks after your baby boy had been born Azriel had a woken up and gone into the nursery to watch the babe sleep. Azriel couldn’t help but think about how he would be as a father now that it was real

He didn’t really have a parental figure to look up to. Az was never really allowed to be around his mother, his father sucked, Rhys’s father wasn’t that much better

But then it hit him. He had Rhys’s mother in his memory and Rhys and Feyre to look to now

Az is a very hands on dad. He doesn’t want to miss a minute of this with you and the babe

Watching Az play with the babe made you so unbelievably happy. Getting to watch your little family is the best thing you’ve ever witnessed

While he’s a mamas boy there’s no denying your little boy is his father’s mini me. They have the same dark hair, same hazel eyes, but your face

He loves acting like his dad. He always makes his wings copy Azriel’s wing movements and wants blue siphons. Usually when Az can’t find one of his siphons you two usually find your boy trying to tie it to his hand with Azriel’s boot laces. He looks up at you two from his hiding spot with a huge smile, “Look mama! I’m just like dad!” Your hearts melt at his excitement

That’s why it’s so tough to burst his happy little bubble

Azriel feels bad taking the siphon from his little boy, but he needs it

Punishing or reprimanding your sweet boy was always difficult. He never did anything terribly wrong, but saying no was never easy

It’s especially hard for Azriel. He doesn’t want to be seen as a monster (exactly what his father was). When he gives Az his signature pout Azriel always gives in.

An example: “dad, can we have ice cream for dinner? Mama is working late she won’t know.” Azriel raised a brow at the little boy. “Now, now we can’t be hiding things from your mama. She’d be mad at us and ban ice cream from the house.” “But please dada,” he pouts, giving Az his best sad eyes. After a minute Azriel hung his head in defeat. “Ok, but you need to eat a vegetable too.” “YAY!”

[madame-fear]

*ೃ༄ 𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐈 𝐄𝐍𝐃, 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐁𝐄𝐆𝐈𝐍 .ೃ࿐

˗ˏˋ ꒰ summary : with the joyous birth of your baby boy, soon comes mourning. ˗ˏˋ ꒰ word count : 746.

˗ˏˋ ꒰ genre : angst. ˗ˏˋ ꒰ pairing : Lord!Lucerys Velaryon x Wife!Reader

WARNING.ᐟ THIS FIC CONTAINS ; mentions of blood loss during birth, reader’s death.

A healthy baby boy was given to young Lord of Driftmark. The realm prayed for a male heir to safely come to life. And while prideful joy was vibrantly felt across the entire castle the moment his child was placed in his arms, along came great sorrow.

The birth was a difficult one. The beige silk sheets of your bed leisurely turned into dried crimson, as you had an excessive loss of blood. Anxiety consumed Lord Lucerys as he noticed how much you were suffering, sitting by your side and whispering words of comfort to you while your hand tightly gripped his own; his other hand brushing away strands of your hair covering your features.

Your grip lost force with the passing of the minutes, until a loud baby wail was heard. Yet, the birth of the healthy boy, strongly kicking with his small arms and legs, was no indicative that you’d recover easily. In fact, his nervousness only increased when you barely had any force to move, open your eyes, or mutter a word. Child bed fever had quickly crashed upon you, as if the weakness you had been left with shortly after the birth of the heir wasn’t enough.

While you preferred for Lucerys to tend to the child, he had maids take care of your baby son. He was insistent in staying by your side, caressing your forehead and playing with your hair. His hand was placed on top of your own, his fingertips brushing gently against your cold skin with longing, knowing you could part away, and his green hazel eyes were fixed on you. They stared at you with a mix of adoration, and despondency.

Deep down inside, the hopes of your safe recovery were fading away, along with his courage of not having you by his side. He wanted to cling to the bit left of hope he had, but with the pale expression on your features, it was impossible.

“Find someone that will love you, and our baby boy, as much as I did. Or even more.”

But the truth was, no one could love him, or your sweet boy, any more than you did. Nor Luke would love anyone else as much as he loved you. His devotion and adoration remained untouched, even years after your passing — perhaps even until his last breath. It had taken great effort to not break down by your side, and collapse in tears as he had to witness your slow death.

A shallow hole had been left on his chest. A tense stillness loomed in the atmosphere of Driftmark when your death was announced. There had reached a point where he had no more tears left to cry, as he had already cried enough for you, and still occasionally cried himself to sleep. It wasn’t the same without you — his best friend, lover, wife, mother of his son.

It had been expected of him to take another wife for the realm to have a Lady, and the child a stepmother; but how could he? It felt disrespectful. He remained a dowager Lord in your honour. Even when the maids tried to tend your chambers by cleaning it and keeping it as a free space, Lucerys dismissed them away. Your chambers remained with the clothes, sheets, and objects that were there even before your death — it was a shrine that he would often visit during the late quiet hours to mourn, and honour you. If any of the objects had been moved from their place, your essence, your existence, your presence would soon be gone for him.

A locket with a strand of your hair remained near him at all times, clinging to it desperately as it brought him to you. It was a strand of hair you had cut off a few days before your official wedding ceremony, and gave it to him inside the locket as a gift. Ever since, solitude burdened him, but found solace in small things that for him, they represented you.

Emptiness lingered dreadfully, sitting down in a hefty manner on his chest. Lucerys wished things were different, it felt as some sort of unfair punishment from the Seven above.

The only place where he could keep seeing, touching you, hearing your comforting words and precious laughter that spurred from your kissable lips, was on his dreams. As well, as on the eyes of his son — which, fortunately, the boy took after you.

♡ taglist : ♡

@jjamieberry @anemicroyalcore @countsmoon @tickle-euphoria @beeebo234 @manuholland6 @capellaadara @kyuupidwrites @tchatso @dopepersonacloudllama @phantasyy @tasty-nutella @mstxdes @valeriecash @cookielovesbook-akie @zzz000eee @bellarkeselection @feliuuuksks @visenya-reigned @maria699669 @mariaelizabeth21-blog1 @sweethoneyblossom1 @jamiemydeer @snowprincesa1

[schoenpepper]

Despite Everything (It's Still You)

Intro: When he looks at you, he sees everything he could have been.

Warnings: bad grammar, awful writing, not proofread, kinda angsty, more platonic im pretty sure cus its not specified if ur lovers, might be ooc idk and idc, everytime i write idia i feel 10 years older because i cringe at my own internet slang

A/N: Done! Last request is finished, hope you like it worm anon. On my end, this is super rushed and it's not like, my fave ever so ehhhh.

Masterlist

Riddle thought he’d found a comrade in you. Out of everyone in Twisted Wonderland, he’d thought you would be the one to understand him.

He sees it in your posture, always straight and never slouching. You’re good with academics, a diligent student. Like Riddle, you’d gone through life with the iron fist of a well-meaning parent, so surely, you understand him, right? You agree with him. You believe that rules are important to be upheld lest society fall into chaos. It’s such a refreshing feeling to find a person who, like him, thinks that structure and stability are core values of a proper community.

But you don’t. You don’t understand. No one does. His consciousness is flickering between ink and reality. He’s slipping into the grasp of the phantom and he feels himself slowly being consumed. He’s being devoured. Right before the overblot, even you had stood against him. Why? Riddle wasn’t wrong, he was never wrong—the rules aren’t wrong. Because if they are, then what did he lose his entire childhood for? So you must be the one at fault. This is your mistake. You just don’t understand. You tell him that the rules and the competence and the structure matter less than people. You try to convince him that there’s a better way of living. Is there?

Riddle doesn’t know why. He’d thought you were a comrade because he saw his own experiences in yours, but he’d never been so wrong. While he was still caught up in the chains of his mother’s words, you’d already broken free from the cage. You help him to reclaim the shards of childish wonder he’d never been allowed to have. You help him learn how to breathe, how to relax. Little by little, you bring him onto your path.

He doesn’t understand you anymore.

Leona doesn’t have any opinions about you. You never really talked to him at first, and he can respect that; you don’t go out of your way for bothersome, meaningless things.

Every time he sees you, you’re sleeping or slacking off. Whatever, it’s not like he can judge you for it. You also have a real competitive streak for spelldrive, and your wit’s not half bad, especially when compared to the muscle heads in his dorm. Clever and snarky, talented and strong. He can respect you. Maybe just barely, and he’ll never admit it, but he sees a part of himself in you. So, a sort-of equal. He’s still better than you though.

The taste of sand lingers on his tongue as it swirls in the air through the storm. There’s a part of himself he can no longer control. It makes him wrap his fingers around Ruggie’s throat and Leona… He doesn’t want this. But he can’t stop. He can still recognize you on the edge of his vision. Weren’t you just like him? At birth, everything good was handed right over to your older sibling, leaving nothing but scraps for you. You found it unfair too, didn’t you? So why are you standing against him? This is his chance to be someone worth more than his birthright. Why…are you not agreeing with him?

Leona tried to stay away from you. But call it his instinct or whatever; he can’t seem to avoid you at all. The second prince of Sunset Savanna is awestruck by your words. You tell him that birth doesn’t determine everything. You tell him that you’d learned from your own past. That you can still make something of yourself without that which was given. You sure are chatty now, but who is he to stop you?

You’re not his equal. You’d long since left him in the dust.

Azul sees you as an opportunity. He likes you, really, because you know how to do business and you find a way to compromise that doesn’t step on either person’s lines.

It’s not difficult for him to find out about your past, and to be honest, he’s greatly delighted to find out about all that you have in common. Did you feel the way he did when he was isolated and bullied? Did you feel his pain? You were an outcast too, weren’t you? But wow, look at you (and him) now! It’s rare he sees someone as diligent as himself, as cunning and as smart. Resourceful and oh so benevolent, you’d fit right into Octavinelle!

He’d steered himself long ago; he would never be weak again. He had long, long since forgotten humiliation and defeat. But he’s here again. This time, defeat was brought by your hands. Azul had thought you were allies. Business partners, at least. Why betray him like this? Don’t you get it? He’s powerful now! Why try to stop him? Why did you succeed? He’s left in the aftermath of heartache and debris. He doesn’t know why he did the things he did, but he’s sure that he was so close to being all-powerful. Perfect. A being so beautiful and flawless and strong… You took that chance away from him.

Azul wants you out of his life—your presence now is only a reminder of everything he could have been, and everything he failed to be. Unlike him, you’ve already moved on. You’ve learned to forgive your tormentors, and most importantly, you’ve learned to forgive yourself. You tell him that it was never his fault, but that revenge was never meant to be the answer.

He finds that he had nothing in common with you, after all.

Jamil is perceptive. Next to the one who’s attracting the attention of the whole room with a bright smile and sunny disposition, he finds a kindred spirit in you.

You seem responsible enough, and like a mirror, he sees you taking care of that person the way he does with Kalim. It’s easy to pierce through your act because he knows how to do it too. Seemingly not too smart, not too dumb, not too strong, not too weak. You’re good at pretending to be average. Like Jamil, you’ve lived a life of servitude. Are you tired of forced humility? Of feeling like your life isn’t worth anything when compared to the one you serve?

He’s tired too. He’s so, so tired. Why was freedom unreachable to Jamil right from the moment he was conceived? Was he unworthy of a life unbound by shackles? You’re looking at him like he’s a stranger. Jamil looks at you like you’re a mirror. A mirror that’s shattered, and damaged, and every piece is covered with ink and regret. You know what he’s been through, so why are you in his way? You should be an accomplice. Do you not yearn to be your own person? The phantom is whispering promises he knows it won’t keep. But nothing is more tempting than just…one day of happiness. Of his own happiness.

Jamil is inevitably drawn to you. You live so brightly; you see your master as a friend. You tell him he doesn’t need to do the same. That the only thing he needs to do is find a way that works for him. And you’re asking about things he hadn’t thought of before. An employment contract? The legal status of slavery in the Scalding Sands? Wait, you’re serving that person out of your own volition in exchange for salary and other related benefits?

In you, he sees a light at the end of the tunnel.

Vil approves of you. Like looking in a mirror almost, he sees beauty and a passionate drive to remain beautiful in every single way.

You’re a person with a consistent goal and a persistent drive to do better and be better; a hard worker with tenacity like that of the Queen herself. You are no potato. You are a diamond that has found a way to shine uniquely, and like him, you are already a master at your chosen profession. And yet, he sees the trophies and the medals are all silver and never gold. It is frustrating, but Vil knows that you as well know what it’s like to always be second best.

He’d worked so hard. He’d tried his very best. Professional music and choreography, styling and costumes. He’d set up a multi-week boot camp for his team members in order to whip them into shape. It’s all swept away by that person. Again. And again. And again and again and again and— No. No more. He will take matters into his own hands. But you stand in front of him with a familiar determination, only this time, you’re determined to stop him. Rook had betrayed him and now, you do too. Is he not worthy of a victory? Not even once? The blot is so, so ugly. But if it means he’ll get to wipe out everything that’s opposed to him, he’ll take that blot and use it to his own advantage. Like the queen who’d disguised herself as an ugly witch in order to take down the princess; everything can be sacrificed for the sake of ultimate beauty. If you’re not with him, you must be against him.

Vil apologizes sincerely for his faults. He knows he was wrong, even if it hurts his pride to admit it. But you accept him so easily, so readily, he can’t believe you’re acting like he’d never even hurt you. You forgive him. You help him accept his losses and continue to strive. Because you’d been in his position before, but you’d grown to be happy and appreciate the wins in life instead.

You are no mirror image of him. You are better.

Idia’s never been this happy before; through his screen is someone who just gets him. You’re good at games, and an introvert too? Score!

It’s not like, ever, that someone who vibes with his genius just comes strolling through his life, so Magicord bears witness to long, late night chats about anything and everything. You’ve got some real fucked up childhood trauma too, big mood tbh. It’s easy to spill his guts out over the internet, because even then, you still don’t really know him. You like the games and animes that he likes, and he’s so glad that for once, there’s a person out there who’s lived through the same villain-arc that he has.

He can’t rebuild the world if so many noobs are trying to stop him. Why? What’s so wrong with wishing for a world that can fit him and Ortho right in? Why is that too much for him to ask for? Why are you, the person he thought was his cool moots, acting up too? Don’t you like Ortho? Bro…no…you’re not actually doing a protagonist monologue rn, are you? Seriously? You think you can defeat him and his phantom through the power of friendship? Lolz, you’re so lame. If the world was a fairytale, he wouldn’t have been born with this dumb curse. If the world was a fairytale, he would never have been trapped in STYX with no way out. If the world was a fairytale, Ortho would still be alive. But it’s not. So he’ll remake it to be the story he’d always dreamt it to be.

Idia thinks you’re 110% cringe, like actually barf-inducing. But you did kinda save him or whatevs, so he can put up with you. Like, begrudgingly yk. You’re just such a weirdo. He really thought you were just like him, but no. You’ve had therapy. That’s like, actually wild. You try to counsel him too, talking about feelings and whatnot, and how to move past grief so that it no longer consumes you from the inside out.

So it turns out you didn’t have a villain arc like Idia did. You’re the main hero.

Malleus finds you absolutely delightful. To see another who can speak to him without fear or nervousness is a marvelous thing that he cherishes.

You are no fae or long-lived species, but he finds you fascinating. You are intelligent and wise beyond your years. You are powerful in your own right. You are familiar, in every sense of the word. Even your experiences seem to be shared. You’d been orphaned too, and experienced loss and grieved. You’d mourned for far too many loved ones who have left before you. Do you see the present as he does? Do you embrace the past as he does?

The world is a sad, sad place. He would like to change it. Into one with happy ever afters, into one where there is no hunger and no poverty. There will be no suffering. In his hands, he will mold the world into one that is kinder to its people. There will be no death and separation. He’s had far too many of those, enough to last his long lifetime. He’s not wrong. So why…why do you stand against him, weapon pointed towards him? The only thing he wishes for is permanence. Do you not see the vision? There is so much sadness in the world, why do you choose to wake from your beautiful slumber and face it head on? No matter. He will help you, even if you deny him.

Malleus is more than happy to take your hand when it is outstretched towards himself. You teach him so many things he hadn’t realized before, like how to cherish the present and treasure each memory more than attempting to find a solution to make them everlasting. He had believed wholly that he was right; that the answer to death was a long period of dreams in which everyone lives in a happy ending. He had believed you to be similar to himself—he is wrong about many, many things.

You’ve always looked to a brighter future than he could even imagine.

[littlejuicebox]

Milk.

Back again for the third time today, this time with some porn with a plot.

I'm really on one with the Dadstarion fics. Something has been unleashed inside me, people.

I need to edit all these headers at some point.

Warnings: babies, angst w comfort, smut, nipple play, breast milk, breast milk drinking, breeding kink, daddy kink, teasing, dirty talk, a bit of soft dom Astarion vibes, 18+ only please

A/N: Most of you already know I'm a degenerate.

-----

Astarion had been uncharacteristically melancholy this week.

Sure, it wasn’t unusual to witness him in one of his moods of irritation or frustration, particularly when some business deal or another was not going particularly well, or a contract he’d already drafted more times than he could count came back to him with more rebuttals.

But to witness this cloud of sadness around your husband, especially after Gale’s birth, was odd. He’d been the picture of domestic joy and fatherhood, completely over the moon in his new role. He even wore the sleeplessness better than you in the first few months, happy to assist where he could so that his little love could get more valuable rest.

However, just recently, his mood had become detached and distant. Everything he did and said seemed tinged with worry or sadness. It reminded you of the spawn version of Astarion from several years ago, almost always caught in a poor memory or concerning line of thought. That version of Astarion hadn’t shown up in a while. You couldn’t be sure what triggered it.

“Gale’s getting quite good at holding his head up,” You inform your husband as you crawl into bed with him after just putting the three-month-old down for the evening.

“That’s wonderful news, darling.” Astarion replies, with that same distant, pensive air he’s addressed you with all week as he focuses on the book in his lap.

You sigh, and put your hand over the book, obscuring the pages and forcing the elf to acknowledge you, “What is it, Astarion? You’ve been in this… mood all week and I’m beginning to worry you’re regretting parenthood.”

Your husband’s eyebrows crinkle as he places the book on his nightstand, staring at you with a mixture of shock, hurt and confusion, “Darling, do you truly think that? What have I done besides absolutely dote on Gale? And on you!”

You realize you’ve misspoken. You see the wounds on your husband’s face as he assesses you, and your hands come to his cheeks, searching his eyes, “No, no I didn’t mean it like that. I’m sorry. I know you don’t regret Gale… I just. I’m worried, Astarion. You seem… sad. Lost in thought in a way I haven’t seen in years and… I don’t know why.”

There is a moment of silence as Astarion’s eyes flash through several thoughts, filtering through a week's worth of garbled noise within his mind. And then he sighs, “I…” he pauses and blinks, forcing himself to meet your gaze, “I’m worried that I won’t be the right masculine role model for Gale. That I’m not strong enough to show him… to show him how to be a good man.”

Your mouth falls open in shock. You cannot even think of something to say, because this certainly wasn’t the direction you thought Astarion would take. He was always quite self-assured in his talents and never hesitant to be the true version of himself after the parasite fiasco over a decade ago.

He continues, “I don’t live in the woods, or whatever it is exactly Halsin does. I’m not an especially talented spell caster like Gale. And I’m fair with a blade but it’s been years since I’ve had use for one and I don’t have the level of training nor regular practice like Wyll nowadays, dear. I review contracts and make investments; I run the winery. I embroider. I’m not exactly the picture of masculinity in comparison to… others.”

There is a moment of quiet between the two of you. Concerned tears form in your husband’s eyes, which he quickly blinks away.

“Astarion… you are the strongest man I know.” You murmur, running a finger along the elf’s cheek as he scoffs and shakes his head. His eyes jerk away from your face; clearly, he does not believe you.

You gasp in shock as you cup his face harder, willing the elf to understand how serious you are. You continue, vehemently, “My love. You cannot seriously believe otherwise! You have endured more than any of us could ever imagine. Over 200 years of… horrible atrocities. And then you came out on the other side of that, after having sacrificed so much — and Astarion, do not ever forget how much you willingly sacrificed — to be better. To choose differently. To be so much more.”

You are ripping the blankets away and crawling into your husband’s lap now, wrapping your limbs around his torso. His head comes to the side of your neck as you hold him, hoping to convey the love and respect you have for the elf with the warmth of your arms. Your fingers latch into the curls on the back of his neck as you speak in a reverent whisper, urging him to believe you.

“I watched you endure years without the sun in more stride than I could have possibly thought. And you are perhaps softer than you were when we met, yes. But this version of you gives me and Gale everything we need and more. I cannot imagine someone stronger or more courageous than you, my love. And I think you have forgotten how much strength it took for you to become this soft in the first place. I love this version of you. And Gale has a wonderful, loving, strong father in this version. Please do not ever doubt that.”

A quiet hum of acknowledgement comes from your husband, but no other words escape him as he lifts his head from the crook of your neck and envelopes your lips in a soft kiss. A thank you.

Your heart is pounding from the passion with which you spoke, and when Astarion’s lips press into yours, that passion and love begins to flow throughout your body. Pieces of you start to wake.

It had been a while since you two were intimate. Not since before Gale's birth. Days and nights had recently been filled with parenthood and left little time nor energy for much else. But as Astarion pushes forward, wrapping his arms around your back, you feel the stirrings of desire deep in your core. A soft moan leaves you as a fire begins to grow where mere glowing embers had been left several months ago.

Astarion must be feeling the same pull, because his hand trails from your back and sneaks under your nightdress to brush along your thigh. He slowly traces up the length of your leg to cup your bottom while he deepens the kiss with a soft, breathy moan of his own. He’s flexing his hips up toward you, the growing bulge in his trousers begging for further stimulation. Your lover’s tongue swipes along your lower lip, asking for entry, and your mouth opens to accept the swirling heat of desire from the elf.

He explores your mouth and caresses your bottom for a while, tenderly, slowly, and in no rush to further things along despite the mutual growing desire between your two bodies. It’s you that finally breaks the kiss before ripping your night dress over your head, exposing two heavy, milk-laden breasts in the process. Astarion brings the hand not kneading into your ass to cup your breast before thumbing the pert nipple.

You gasp, and your husband’s brows crinkle for a moment as he pauses his ministrations.

“Too sensitive?” He asks, pressing a soft kiss to the top of your other breast.

“No, keep going,” You urge him, closing your eyes and rolling your hips forward to grind into his groin. He bucks forward to meet you instinctively.

He tentatively thumbs the nipple again and you moan in response. Without thinking much about it, Astarion brings his mouth to the other breast and wraps his lips around the bud before sucking gently. You release an ecstatic keen in response when his teeth graze against the tender flesh. You are continuing to roll your hips into him when he suddenly retracts from your chest with a shocked gasp.

Your eyes snap open, and you catch the final glimpse of your husband wiping breast milk from the side of his mouth as his cheeks and ears slowly turn pink. And then you feel your own embarrassment growing as rosy patches flush across your chest and cheeks. You quickly move to cover your breasts.

“I-I’m sorry,” You whisper, “it slipped my mind. I forgot about the…”

You’re thinking the moment’s ruined, and moving to climb off your husband, but he quietly brings his hand to your waist and stills you. His eyes search yours silently for a moment, and you’re still so consumed by your own embarrassment that all you can do is stare dumbly back at him, eyebrows furrowed.

But then Astarion lifts one of his hands to your own, slowly lowering it from where it had been covering your breast. He keeps his eyes locked on yours as he once again leans forward and wraps his lips around the nipple, sucking gently. Warm milk flows into his mouth and you inhale sharply, unable to look away as your husband removes his lips from your breast, opens his mouth to show you the white liquid, and then closes his mouth and swallows.

He swallows.

And then he smirks up at you with a self-satisfied, mischievous glint in his eyes that causes the slickness between your legs to instantly double.

Gods, this man.

You are convinced your entire body is flushing red at this point as Astarion slowly brings his other hand up to palm the flesh of your breast.

“Would you like daddy to do it again?” He purrs before his tongue laps circles around the side of your heavy tit.

“I— gods, yes.” You respond, blinking down at the elf.

“Okay. But you have to ask me very, very nicely, little love.” He responds teasingly as he trails kisses to your other breast, waiting for you to say something.

“Please suck my nipple,” You whisper, eagerly rolling your groin into your husband's raging erection.

But Astarion doesn’t do what he’s asked. Instead, he’s teasing the bud with the flat of his tongue and humming contentedly, waiting for something from you.

“Please suck my nipple, daddy.” You amend, and the elf instantly engages his lips around your other breast with a soft groan. He’s drinking with vigor as your hands find the curls at the nape of his neck and take hold. Before long he’s retracting again, his mouth full of liquid gold.

And he pulls the same maneuver. Mouth open, flashing the white liquid as he looks directly into your eyes. Mouth closed. Swallow. Devious smile.

“It’s delicious, you know.” He murmurs as you stare at him, still in shock and still somewhat embarrassed by the fact that you are actually enjoying this. His hands come to either breast, both now significantly lighter, and he fondles the soft tissue.

“You shouldn’t be so surprised that you like this darling, I distinctly remember a time when I made you orgasm by mere nipple play alone.” He whispers, a glint of that cocky rogue playing across his face before he trails kisses up your chest and along your neck.

“Gods, Astarion,” You respond, “I need you inside me, now.”

You’re done with the foreplay. Your husband has you ridiculously hot and bothered, and it’s been far, far too long. You're on your knees, which are straddled on either side of his hips as you urgently tug at the waistband of his trousers, trying to work his pants and underclothes off in one motion. But your husband is purposely resisting and refusing to lift his hips, watching you with that same arrogant smile.

Oh, he's toying with you.

“Darling, why am I always the one dirty talking you?” He asks, pulling back from your neck and cocking his head just slightly as he studies your face.

“I— what?” You ask, still pulling insistently at his waistband.

“I’m always the one charming the pants off of you, dear. In over ten years, it’s never really been the other way around. But you know that I love to hear your beautiful words.” He continues, moving one of his hands to stroke between your still-clothed folds.

“Astarion, please fuck me.” You try as you struggle to keep your composure. The slickness of your cunt is making obscene noises as he expertly maneuvers between your slit, watching your expression attentively as you come undone.

He chuckles darkly as he brings his lips to your breast once again, trailing kisses along the side of the flesh, “I think you can do better than that, my love.”

You groan in dismay as the bastard continues to tease you. Several months without sex and somehow you’re still the desperate one while he’s effortlessly maintaining his cool.

“What do you want daddy to do to you, darling?” He purrs, teasingly, as his other hand that isn’t stroking between your legs trails across your skin to fondle your ass once again.

“I want you to fuck me and fill me with your seed.” You whine as his ministrations on your clit become more insistent. You’re trying to play into his desires, to convince him to stretch you open with his thick cock.

Your legs are trembling now. He’s going to make you come embarrassingly fast. You know it. He knows it.

“Won’t you beg me, my love?” He murmurs as his eyes trail across your chest, admiring your larger-than-usual breasts before his gaze locks back onto yours, fingers still strumming your clit, now adding more pressure, “You know I love to hear your sweet little pleas.”

“Please— Astarion. Please, daddy. Please fuck me. Breed me like your good little wife and fill me with—“

You gasp and then moan as your orgasm rips through you with little warning, drenching your husband’s hand in your arousal. The release causes your legs to turn into jelly, and Astarion uses the opportunity to quickly maneuver you into a new position. You are sitting on the side of the bed, and he is now standing, quickly lowering his trousers.

His cock springs free, and the sight causes your eyes to widen in shock. It’s so engorged that the head is slowly turning from that gorgeous pink to a deep purple, begging for release. Thin rivulets of pre-cum are falling in strings from the tip; much of his shaft is glistening from the same evidence of his arousal.

Astarion glances down at his own erection and then warns, “It’s been a while darling, not quite certain how long I will last.”

“Just get inside me already, daddy.” You plead and that’s enough to make your husband growl as he strokes his own member once, twice, prepping himself. He peels your drenched undergarments down your legs and tosses them aside.

As Astarion’s cock slides between your folds you gasp. Gods, it really has been too long. And then he’s pressing into you slowly, groaning deeply with the amount of effort it’s taking him to not release his spend right upon entry into your tight cunt. When he reaches the hilt, the elf stills for a moment and lowers himself down to kiss your lips before pressing his forehead against yours. And then Astarion is slowly rolling his hips, his mouth hanging open in a gasp at the delicious sensation of your walls clenching around him before he closes his eyes to focus.

It isn’t long before he's losing control. Your husband normally prides himself on being a consummate lover; it’s quite typical that he brings you to orgasm twice before finding his own release. But it has been quite some time and perhaps holding off in an attempt to hear your pleas wasn’t as easy for him as it appeared on the outside.

“Gods, darling. You feel so perfect.” The elf pants, almost breathless, his hips stuttering as he jerkily thrusts into you, trying and failing to maintain some rhythm as the pleasure overwhelms him, “So perfectly wet and tight.”

“Come inside me, daddy.” You whisper as you bring your hand to the side of Astarion’s face.

The command shocks him. Like you, he’s suddenly coming with very little warning. His eyes rip open as he’s spilling into you with a loud groan, his cock jerking inside your walls where he’s instinctively buried himself to the hilt.

“Fuck-- gods, Tav--" He hisses through the waves of pleasure racking his body as his eyes roll back. His thighs are trembling as his member continues to throb, spilling several streams of hot, thick seed into you as you watch his face in awe. Mouth agape, cheeks flushed. You love the way he looks when he loses control.

You smile and kiss your husband gently as he comes down from his high, your hand stroking his cheek. And then he’s laughing and pressing his forehead back against yours. A few of his curls fall haphazardly and you reach up to lovingly comb them back into place.

“You are… still full of surprises, aren’t you?” Astarion asks as he slowly withdraws from you, causing the slickness from your lovemaking to run down your thighs and into the sheets.

“I thought you would like it,” You offer shyly, now somewhat embarrassed at your own crassness as the tides of passion recede.

“Oh, I certainly did, darling.” Your lover reassures you as he bends down to retrieve his trousers from the floor, "You cheeky little degenerate."

Just then, Gale lets out a sharp cry from the nursery. You move to stand up, but your husband stops you with a gentle hand and a soft, adoring smile.

“I’ll go and get him. Don’t waste the seed still inside you, dear. Give it a few more precious moments to try and do its thing, hm?” Astarion says, partly teasing and partly serious as he shoots you a wink before heading out the bedroom door to retrieve the infant.

This one won’t take, you know as much. You aren’t ovulating. But as you watch the love of your life exit the room on his way to retrieve the other love of your life, you think you may actually be ready to start trying for another one sometime soon. You know Astarion is simply waiting for your cue.

Anything for daddy. 

[shorthaltsjester]

i’m scrambling through the transcripts from eps 104 & 106 of campaign 1 because i’m writing something and god this quote from ioun when she’s speaking with vox machina is rotting me from the inside out:

“We the creators did breath beauty into this world, we planted the seeds that would blossom into this incredible weave of Exandria. However, what is the purpose of the parent but to teach what they can then set their children free? Some gods rule through fear, others through love, and others still through perceived fate. Destiny has its place, but the real deception if that you have no choice. A path can be groomed before you, but it is you who must take those steps. Not every rosy walkway leads to a better day. For me, our greatest purpose has passed the moment we granted your forebearers the spark to seek their own purpose. We now stay to inspire, to guide, to guard the Gate, to keep the hate of ignorance we spawned in our hubris from burning away everything. The rest is up to you. We need you, perhaps, but you do not need us. That is our gift.”

It’s delicious for a lot of reasons but namely in that it situates the gods once again as sentient beings who did not choose to come here but have found and maintain purpose in their continued presence - and that purpose is not to control mortals but to support them, something like aging parents who in some ways need to be looked after and can provide guidance and inspiration and limited protection but who need that to be returned. given the current state of affairs in campaign 3 even pre-downfall insights, ioun’s emphasis that one of their purposes is to keep ignorance (born from the god’s own hubris) from burning away everything. i mean even the fact that the god of knowledge admits that the gods are even capable of hubris — and i say this not because i think the gods would assume themselves to be above hubris but because i’m uncertain how much it can be called hubris for literal gods to view themselves with immense amounts of self importance — reveals the degree to which (to me at least) the gods are just beings who have immense amounts of power they did not directly ask for but were given when thrust into a new context. like brennan spoke of in the cooldown for 3x99, the power wasn’t power until given a material context and it is completely fair for mortals to be fearful or hateful of that which causes them harm as much as it is understandable for the gods to have a bitter disposition that something beyond their control and in fact a symptom of their care for their family is something that paints them as evil and cruel. it reminds me of ruidusborn in many ways — who have a stifling reputation so strong that people avoid giving birth during flares and look down upon even children born under the red moon but that reputation is contextualized by the fact that ruidusborn are and have been incredibly dangerous until it becomes a self-perpetuating cycle.

i am such a fan of critical role just for Good Story reasons but the historian in me has such deep respect for the lore keeping and weaving of different ideas into the fictional cultures and dispositions of the world that fit together like puzzle pieces and makes exandria feel not just lived in but truly as if the world has been minutely changed by every moment that we the audience have witnessed and will someday come to witness.

[embrosegraves]

𝕎𝕠𝕦𝕝𝕕 𝕀𝕥 𝔹𝕖 𝕆𝕜𝕒𝕪?

Arthur Leclerc x Reader In which after the reader has an unwanted interaction, Reader’s 6-year-old daughter has a serious talk with Arthur “Would it be okay if I called you dad?”

Warnings/Notes: Google Translated French and Italian. unnamed ex-boyfriend.

You had never imagined ever becoming a teen mum. You hadn’t given any thought to getting pregnant with your boyfriend. There was no need to think about stuff like that, the two of you were only 16. That’s why you were so shocked to find out a month before you turned 17, that you would be having your first child. 

Of course, after you eventually got over the shock, you immediately told your boyfriend. H was less than pleased with the situation. He didn’t outright say that he didn’t want it, but the way he treated you afterwards made that pretty clear to you. He was not going to help you. You had sat him down the night before your birthday to talk about what you were going to do. That night, he said that didn’t want to be a parent. That he didn’t want to be your boyfriend any longer. 

Most people would become hysterical. Most people would start crying and begging for their partner to stay with them. That they could make it work. But not you. Your response to his words had stunned him. 

“If you don’t want to be with me, that’s fine. If you don’t want to be a father, that’s fine too. After today I don’t want you near me or my baby, so once they’re born I want you to sign your rights away.” You were stone-faced with anger when you spoke to him. “No matter what you say or do from here on out, I will have full custody of my child and you will have nothing to do with them. Am I clear?”

He looked almost angry at your words, but he gritted his teeth and agreed to your demands. That was the last night you ever saw him. Either his family had moved away, or he had suddenly stopped frequenting the places you used to go together but whatever the reason you were strangely satisfied that you never ran into him for the remainder of your surprise pregnancy. 

Your parents were your biggest supporters throughout the whole ordeal. You could still remember the day your parents found out you were pregnant. It was the day you yourself had found out. Your father had found you in the bathroom, sitting on the toilet lid in shock with tears streaming down your face. He rushed to you, worried out of his mind. Your father’s arms had wrapped around you protectively and your crying got louder as you tried to explain the news to him. 

Your mother had come up the stairs when she heard you sobbing hysterically, only to find you clutching to your father as if he had told you he was dying tomorrow. He never loosened his hold on you as he explained to your mother what the issue was. She was equal parts worried and elated. Your mother took no time to join you and your father in the embrace. It had taken you almost an hour to come to terms with what you were about to go through, but knowing that you had your parents’ support and assistance made it all that much easier to deal with. 

7 and a half months later, you had given birth to a daughter. That was the first and last day that your ex-boyfriend saw your daughter. You had texted him to come to hospital as you had the paperwork he needed to sign so that he could give his rights away. Being in no state to follow him and make sure that he signed what was necessary, your father had followed and stood opposite to him so he could make sure he wasn’t going to rip up the paperwork. 

At some point in your pregnancy, you had expressed to your parents that while he had agreed to sign them away, you were worried that he would try something when the day came. Your father said that he would need a witness in order for the papers to be legal anyway, so he would be there to make sure your ex couldn’t try anything nefarious. 

Despite countless nights sat with your parents on the couch in your living room, you still hadn’t come up with a name for your daughter. Your mother’s family hailed from France and your father’s family hailed from Italy, so you wanted something that had both ethnic backgrounds. 

As soon as you laid eyes on your baby, after hours of labour, you knew instantly what her name would be. 

Colette Vincenza L/n

You were always thankful that she was a well behaved baby, she had only really started acting like the stories you’d heard when she was teething. But once she had all her teeth, she was a kindhearted angel for you and your parents. That’s how she was, even as she continued growing. 

When Colette was just over a year old, you had met someone while going about your day in the French markets. The stroller was in front of you as you browsed the stalls. You had been so absorbed in your daughter that you had failed to notice someone walking the opposite direction and had accidentally bumped into them. Because of the impact, the man had spilled some of his hot drink in front of him, and consequently onto your daughter’s stroller. You quickly grabbed Colette out and started to sooth her, as she had been shocked and started to cry. Amidst you trying to sooth your daughter and double check that none of the hot liquid had fallen on her, the man had started apologising profusely. 

“It’s alright, really. I should have been more aware of the surroundings.” As you continued to rock Colette, you finally looked up at whoever you had bumped into. He was very handsome, looked to be around your age, and was clearly worried that he had unknowingly hurt the small baby with you. 

“No no, it’s my fault as well. I wasn’t paying attention at all. Please let me repay you, I would never forgive myself if I didn’t help you somehow.” He sounded so sincere you couldn’t help but take a bit of pity on him. 

“I promise you, you don’t need to do anything. But if it would make you feel better, and if you don’t have anywhere to be right now, you could tag along with me while I finish my shopping.” He didn’t hesitate to agree, feeling bad enough as it was. 

Noticing that Colette had calmed down now, you ran your hand down the back of her head and spoke to her as you put her back in the stroller. 

“Tu vas bien maintenant Lette, Maman t'a eu.” (You’re okay now, Lette. Mummy’s got you.)

“Tu parles français?”  (You speak French?)

You looked at him as you resumed walking through the markets. “Oui. En plus de l'italien et de l'anglais, j'ai parlé français toute ma vie.” (Yes. Along with Italian and English, I have spoken French all my life)

“Abbiamo già due cose in comune.” His smile when he spoke in his mother tongue was gorgeous, but it had nothing on his smile when he spoke Italian. You couldn’t help but grin back at him. (We already have two things in common)

You continued talking with each other and by the end of the day you had learnt two very important things about him. His name was Arthur Leclerc and he was a Formula 2 racing driver for Ferarri’s Driver Academy. Eventually you had noticed it was getting late so you exchanged phone numbers to keep in touch and went back home. 

That was almost five years ago and since then, Arthur had taken you on many dates, some alone and some with your daughter. He was there for almost all of her firsts. Her first words, first steps and even her first loose tooth. Eventually he asked if you wanted to be his girlfriend and, though you had hesitated at first, you had become official with him. 

Arthur was over at your place playing with Colette when you heard someone knock on your door. You looked at each other confused as you weren’t expecting anyone tonight, your parents would’ve called ahead if they were going to come by. Getting up from your seat, you gave Arthur a kiss and kissed Colette’s head before going to answer your door. 

The person standing behind it was very impatient as they kept knocking on the hardwood door. 

“Arrivo subito, calmati.” You called as you unlocked the door and opened it. Seeing who it was, you almost closed it straight away if he hadn’t put his foot in the way to stop it. (I’ll be right there, calm down.)

“Cosa stai facendo qui?” You tried to keep your anger in check as you looked at him expectantly. (What are you doing here?)

“You know I don’t speak Spanish.” 

“C'était italien, connard. What do you want?” Your patience was wearing thin. (That was Italian, asshole)

“I think you already know.” The bastard had the nerve to smirk when he spoke to you. 

“You have no right to her. You signed those damn papers. Even if you hadn’t, you had six years to see her. Why now?” 

“I was in the area. Thought I’d stop by.” 

“Well, you stopped. Now you can go.” You kicked his foot none too gently and closed the door before he could continue. Locking the door, you turned and walked back to where your boyfriend and daughter were still playing. Taking note of the time, you gently ushered Colette to bed before you and Arthur also began getting ready to sleep. 

There was no need to tell Arthur who was at your door, as your house was very open plan so he could hear the entire conversation from the living room. As you both laid down, he held you close and comforted you until you both fell asleep. 

The next morning, you woke up before Arthur, seeing as you had to begin working. You were glad that you had started a home business because it meant that you didn’t need to make the commute to work through morning traffic. All you had to do was get dressed and sit down in your home office so you could start answering emails from customers about their packages arriving damaged. 

Arthur had slept in a little that morning meaning that he was awoken by Colette climbing into your bed to lay next to him. When she saw he was awake, she nuzzled her face into his neck and he wrapped his arms around her gently.

“Can I talk to you?” She asked him. “Without Maman?” 

Arthur was a little worried about what she wanted to talk about, as she hadn’t ever come to speak with him alone. 

“But of course, Petit, what’s wrong?” 

“I heard Maman talking to that man yesterday, and I know I’m still little and that Maman doesn’t talk about my Papa, but I know that was him.” 

Arthur felt entirely out of his depth. He knew Colette was smart, he praised her constantly for it, but he hadn’t expected her to understand what happened the night before. 

“Did it bother you that he came here?” Arthur was ready to hunt him down and tell him to never even think about you or Colette ever again. 

“Not really. I know he helped Maman make me, but he’s not my real papa. It just made me think about something.” 

“And what did you think about, Petit?” 

“Would it be okay if I called you Papa? Je vois comment Grand-père rend Grand-mère heureuse, et tu rends Maman heureuse, alors je voulais te demander.” (I see how Grandpa makes Grandma happy, and you make Mummy happy, so I wanted to ask.)

Because the walls inside your home were very thin, you could hear the entire conversation between your daughter and your boyfriend. You were a little shocked at what she said but your heart swelled with more love than you thought possible when Arthur replied. 

“I would be honoured for you to call me Papa.”

hehehehehehe I love this so much

The poll was VERY clear that people wanted this asap so here it is!

I hope you enjoyed reading!

likes, replies and reblogs are always appreciated <3

[glassica]

Outsiders

Notes: M!yan transmigrator x Gn!reader reincarnator, isekai, jealousy, mentions of violence

Continued from Second Male Lead, with a different yan.

"Looks like someone got rejected huh?", your best friend tucked head to the side, eyes full of mischief, didn't bother pretending to sympathize with your loss for a bit. This was why you dreaded seeing him so much. You knew well he would just make fun of your miserable love life.

"Shut up! He didn't. I just realize that I'm no match to the heroine!", you groaned, shooting an icy glare at your friend, "Honestly how am I supposed to compete with the universe's favorite?! I know she's the main character but still... isn't it too unfair for us extras?"

"Unfair only for you, I actually have a blast there. Crazy how relaxing life is when you not aiming too out of league.”

He laughed and teased you senselessly, but inside the man was breathing sighs of relief. You didn't want to know what would he do to the second male lead had you two become a couple. Nothing much, just some little stabs on the chest and limbs ripping apart maybe...

At first he was so scared seeing himself transported to this world. He knew about the isekai stuff, but applying those knowledge to reality was a different story. He had no clue about the worldbuilding nor the plot, thus struggled desperately to blended in high society. Besides, he couldn't tell anyone about him belonging to different world, he would be called crazy and outcasted from all circles.

So it was a miracle that he met you, another soul stuck in same situation. Because you had read the series and been living there since birth, you were able to provide him with necessary information about the novel. Through you, he learned about the Kingdom, the protagonists, the future events, etc. in addition to all the etiquette and secrets of nobility. At one point, you confessed to him about the second male lead, the love of your (now and previous) life.

Who you pined after was none of his business, yet the man found himself growing unbearably irritated the more he heard about that name. Your best friend always bore a bitter grin on his face whenever you gushed about your crush, sometimes he sneaked in snide remarks, suggesting the second lead was probably just a mediocre guy. “If he was really charming like you made him out to be,” your friend argued, “he should’ve been the hero instead of getting shoved outside midway to be honest.” You huffed, who he thought he is to downplay the man of your dream like that? And why did your friend like belittling your feelings so much?

No. He didn’t look down on you at all, he just hated the fact that you were paying attention anyone but not him. He couldn’t accept the sight of you longing for another man when he was right there. The one who was aware of your deepest secret, the one who witnessed all your goodness and uglies, the one who could share your struggles of adapting to new world. He knew you the best, obviously he was the right choice for you.

And perhaps the man should admit deep down, he was also terrified of the future without you. You had come and guided him through the puzzling maze of noble life, be there for him when he was on verge of giving up everything. He had been acquainted with your lovely presence, no way he would let anyone steal it away from him. Little dirt on hands wasn’t a bad price to pay if that means you would be chained forever to him.

You might be a worthless extra in their story, but always the main character in his story.

[dark-moonlust]

Lust Beneath the Waves PART 3

This is the 3rd part of my series “Lust Beneath the Waves”. Early access for my moonlust patrons 🩷 The full oneshot is up on Patreon. It will updated here at a later date.

Pairing: Kraken x f!mermaid reader

Summary: the time comes for you to lay the Kraken’s eggs.

Warnings: MINORS DON’T INTERACT, 18+!!!, explicit tentacle smut, inaccurate egg preg and birthing procedure, exhibitionism, nipple suckers, Kraken has two 🍆, double penetratiοn, lots of 💦.

Excerpt:

Rumors had already spread like wildfire; the Kraken’s mermaid was about to lay his eggs and all kinds of creatures had gathered to witness the special moment.

Unbothered by those watching you, your mate slowly pulled out, his appendages withdrawing from your body with wet squelching sounds. The moment his cocks left you, the contractions returned with full force.

“The eggs are moving!” you cried out as the eggs shifted inside you. It wasn’t so painful, more like incredibly uncomfortable since you were filled in both holes.

“Yes, you are about to birth our offspring, my mate,” he drawled lovingly. “I want you to push, my love. Push our offspring out of your cunt and ass. I’ve got you.”

Keep reading here.

[thecapricunt1616]

Daddy!Carmy holding his baby for the first time

Another unformated daddy!carmy blurb below I’m sick thanks to @carmenberzattosgf !!!

After an agonizing hour and fifteen minutes of pushing, your son had been born luckily scream crying. You had been more relieved then you ever felt in your life to finally get him out. Who knew 7 and a half pounds could feel bigger then a bowling ball sitting on your cervix for more then a day.

Although active labor only lasted 4 hours, and pushing lasted nearly an hour and a half - the contractions lasted nearly thirty hours. Carmy of course was near your side the entire time, allowing you to squeeze his hand and arm as hard as you needed to.

He brought you ice water while you bounced on your yoga ball and grunted through contractions, he knelt holding your hand while you tried to ease the pain through a hot bath, bundled up and held your hand as you curb walked in the chilly Chicago Fall weather.

He made you the spiciest Mexican food you could handle at your request, and ate it with you - sniffles and watery eyes and all. He gave you perennial massages (both of you shuddered at the idea to begin with - but you were both ready for this torture to be over so anything that would speed up the process you tried). He’d had sex with you which funny enough eased the contraction pain for the duration which you appreciated.

He tried stimulating your nipples, the man literally called his sister and listed off the things the two of you had tried already to try and get advice. To which, she gave the golden advice of ‘just have sex again! Like- as much as you can. For some reason it works. They may be grossed out by it I don’t know!’ And with 2 more rounds you were 4 minutes apart which per your midwife was the golden time to go.

She had met you there, and made sure to advocate to your nurses your birthing plan of a water birth and not having anyone other then her and Carmy in the room other then the one doctor and 2 nurses needed to observe the midwife as she’d helped deliver. Carmy had nearly passed out probably 3 times the midwife had told you after, you were too busy - well..getting a baby out of you, but thankfully he kept it together.

2 pushes before the baby had been delivered, you panicked. You had felt the ring of fire, it felt like it would never stop- and you felt like the baby had been in the same spot for the last 5 pushes you’d done, all which your midwife had counted to ten- and your baby still wasn’t out. Carmy though, even in his own panic somehow got it together enough to kiss your forehead and tell you that this was the most amazing thing he had ever been able to witness and that he knew with how strong you’d been this entire laboring process this final stint would be a breeze if you just focus on him and listen to him reminding you how amazing you are and how much he loves you and how lucky this baby is to have you as their mom and without you even realizing, your baby was out.

You realized when the midwife called your attention, and you weren’t surprised to see Carmy having his hands below, ready and waiting to catch his babe and and him to the midwife to which she put him on your chest and the little baby boy screeched. It was the best thing you’d ever heard, you looked at your baby and it was like you and him were the only thing in the world, you didn’t even realize you were sobbing. You didn’t even realize your midwife had to rub Carmys back to coax his face away from being pressed to yours to cut the cord.

He gladly accepted, remembering how they taught him in birthing class and the midwife added the clamp as the nurse came over and suctioned the baby’s mouth out. He helped you unhook your nursing bra and get the baby settled against your skin “Levi” he whispered through his tears and you looked up at him

“He’s a boy?” You question, looking at the little baby who was lifting and dropping his head in search of some well needed food after his long awaited grand entrance.

“He’s a boy” he smiled tearfully, rubbing his little back and massaging the stickiness in that you’d learned in birthing class was actually really good for their skin and immunity.

“I- I feel-“ you pouted “like- like I missed it” you started to cry guiltily, looking at your son “I’m so sorry angel” you sniffle, as your baby carelessly sucks at your breast with closed eyes and clutches Carmys finger.

“No-no baby” he pet your hair gently, “remember? They said it’s just the adrenaline. Shhh. You’ll remember. Want me to tell you? I’ll tell you everything honey and I bet it’ll come back t’you, yeah?” He coaxes, kissing your temple “you did so amazing baby -“ his voice wavered as he tried his best to hold back tears “I promise I’ve never seen anything more fuckin beautiful yeah? It’ll come back I know it will” he kissed the top of your head sweetly.

One of the nurses came over, taking baby’s temperature and making sure he was adjusting okay before taking him to do his shots since he was done nursing for the time being, and the other nurse and midwife helped you deliver the placenta while he followed them to give the shots like you’d discussed.

The next time you saw him was a good 45 minutes later, after the baby had been weighed, given his shots, gotten his apgar test, physical exam, got his eye drops, and done his genetic screening - and Carmy was following the nurse as she wheeled little Levi in the room.

“My boys!” You said tiredly, sitting up and untying your specially bought birthing gown Carmy had found online. The nurse holds up her hand for you to stop

“Little ‘Bear’ here has a full tummy still, he won’t be hungry for another three hours or so. Daddy here is gonna get some skin to skin, mommy why don’t you sleep” she explained and Carmy kissed your head.

“I got em sweetheart” he told you and set down a ‘mommy cocktail’ as the nurse had told him, which was 2 hospital cranberry juices, 2 orange juices, and one pineapple, packed with ice. You took a sip and hum, eyes fluttering shut and head falling back onto the one of many pillows Carmy made sure to bring for you that he bought for this exact reason (sugar told him hospital pillows were uncomfortable - he took the one they left on the bed that he replaced with the comfortable $20 ones he brought for you and realized she was in fact right, his neck had kinks he didn’t know could exist.)

“Love you” you puckered your lips and he kissed you sweetly, lingering just long enough to satisfy you before sitting down on the recliner. He tugged off his classic white shirt, reclining back and the nurse unwrapped the babe, placing him on Carm’s chest to which he scrunched up. You were so exhausted, you couldn’t have witnessed it if you tried. But, Carmy was committing the entire interaction to memory, he would replay this interaction over and over in his mind for the rest of his life.

“Hey, heeey there little man” he whispered and the nurse smiled, covering the babe with the blanket he had been swaddled in when he came in with him and kissing his head. He nearly giggled, looking up at the nurse. “He..he smells good. Is that weird? Er like…creepy?” He could barely contain the happy tears rolling down his face that hadn’t stopped since he caught him when he first came into the world.

The nurse just smiled, shaking her head amusedly. “That’s parenthood. Welcome honey. You seem to be a natural. The third drawer is stuffed with Huggies and desitin- only buy desitin hear me?” She opened the drawer. “Second is for” she silently points to you as to not disturb you. “We have witch hazel pads, ice packs, numbing spray - I expect this cart to be cleared out tomorrow when you leave, mm?” She shuts it and he nods with a thankful smile.

“Thank you” he said just before Levi throws up milk all over his chest, causing him to scrunch his nose and hold back a gag.

“Rule one” she took the baby, patting his back and handing him a burp cloth. “Staying ready means you don’t have to get ready, dad. Always have a burp cloth ready honey” she pointed to her own shoulder, covered with another cloth as she pats his little back, bouncing him gently.

Carmy nodded, holding his breath as to not smell the sweet bitter baby vomit smell.

“Noted.”