#He likes knitting and making bread

[zorishy]

Ghostbur/Casper Redesign!

Look at him. He’s just a little guy! (he’s not little, he’s 6’3 and in heels)

The sword was designed by my friend, Ulta! (I don’t think he has a tumblr but I still feel like I should credit him)

[sysig]

Okay but what if (Patreon)

[softspiderling]

picture of you in an invisible locket | j.v

summary:

“It is not my father who is against the match.”

“What?”

Jacaerys’ eyes widened in surprise at the implication, and you sighed quietly. You weren’t planning on telling him, knowing it would hurt his feelings greatly, but did you have any other choice?

“You say you have a deep affection for me, and then say that you’re against a match,” Jacaerys said, his brows knitted in confusion.

OR; loving jacaerys velayron means more than loving just him, something that you are painfully aware of

pairing: jacaerys velaryon x reader

warnings: none :)

word count: 2,5k

author's note: my first jacaerys fic! ngl it was super hard to jump from obx to hotd bc i wanted my writing to feel authentic to the fandom/show??? yeah obx and hotd could NOT be any more different tbf. i have a bunch of ideas for jace but if you want you can send me some requests! also tagging @zyafics and @sunderlust bc they've been encouraging me to write for jace ily guys. happy reading and pls leave some feedback/comments/nice words!!! <3

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

The light of the torches were flickering as you walked down the hallway, your shoes clicking against the marble stones that lined the ground. It was nearly midnight and a lady of your rank shouldn’t be awake at this hour, much less out of her chambers by herself, roaming the halls.

But you were hungry.

You hadn’t had much to eat during dinner, trying to avoid him as much as possible, which is getting increasingly more difficult. Usually, he wasn’t so persistent, opting to stay close to your father during dinner, exchanging information about their culture, or drinking with your brother. Tonight, however, it seemed like he was on quest to find you whenever you were standing idly by, asking for a dance. And of course, you couldn’t decline for no reason, as it would appear rude or even slight, so you busied yourself with other - much less distracting - dance partners. By the time he was approached by one of your guards, inquiring about his training, and you saw your chance to sit down and eat in peace, the table had been cleared for the last course. While you did love cake, your hunger couldn’t be stilled by a mere dessert and you spent the remainder of the night famished, longing for some hearty food.

As if on cue, your stomach grumbled of hunger again, and you picked up the skirt of your night dress, hastening along to the kitchen. When you finally reached the stair case that led down to the kitchens, you hurried down the steps, letting yourself into the kitchen, the heavy wooden door swinging shut behind you.

The kitchen was dimly lit, and you headed to the pantry, searching for bread and butter and if you were lucky, some smoked ham. You were so focused on your search, you didn’t even notice another presence lingering in the doorway of the pantry.

You heart nearly stopped when you finally did see him, your gasp echoing in the empty kitchen.

“Prince Jacaerys!”

The crown prince of the Seven Realms was standing in front of you, arms behind his back and brows raised. You forced your heartbeat so calm down, hand still clutching your chest.

“You gave me a fright,” you said. “What are you doing here?”

“I have been waiting for your arrival. You took quite some time, I was certain you would be here an hour past.”

Your eyes narrowed in slits, growing wary at his words. “And how did you know that I would come to the kitchens at this hour? I do not make it a habit to skulk around the keep at night.”

Jacaerys chuckled dryly, his beautiful dark curls bouncing as he shook his head, as if in disbelief.

“Given how you occupied the dance floor with various dance partners earlier, I did not see you sit down for supper once. You were certain to still your hunger somewhere.”

So he did notice.

You acted nonchalant, turning away from him eyes searching shelves in the pantry.

“Searching for this?”

Jacaerys brought a loaf of bread from behind his back, wrapped in a cloth. Your eyes gleamed, taking a step forward to reach for it, nearly bumping into him as he took a step forward as well, breaching into your personal space. Your heart stopped, feeling his hot breath fanning on your cheeks and the prince’s lips tugged into a grin.

“Ah ah,” he tutted, moving the bread out of your reach. “You do not expect me to give this away without a price now, do you my lady?”

You took a moment’s pause, considering his words with caution.

“… What sort of price do you speak of?”

“How about…” Jacaerys begun. “A kiss?”

With a small breath, you faltered, looking up at him through your lashes, your shoulders slumping.

“Jace.”

“Ah, now we are back to Jace?”

Snatching the small piece of ham and the butter that sat in a small marble bell from the shelves, you walk back into the kitchen, knowing Jacaerys would follow you. Making a stop at the counter, you spread your findings on it, waiting until Jacaerys stopped next you, loaf of bread still in his hand.

“You have been avoiding me.”

“I have not.”

“You danced with every single man at your brother’s name day celebration except for me,” Jacaerys pointed out. You shrugged with your shoulders, an act you would never do in front of other people, but this was Jace.

“I was merely being a good host.”

“Don’t insult me, my lady. I saw your grimace when Lord Ren twirled you over the dance floor while stepping all over your feet with his barbaric dance moves.”

Seven hells, he got you there. You never were able to keep your real feelings hidden when it came to Lord Ren. He was just too insufferable. Pursing your lips, you resisted the urge to roll your eyes. You were still a lady after all, you had some manners.

“Will you give me the bread when I admit you’re right?”

“I should not,” Jacaerys sniffed. “Because I know I am right, I do not need a confession. I just want to know your reasons.”

With a huff, you snatched the loaf of bread out of his hands, reaching for knife in the wooden block. You cut out several slices, maybe with more force than necessary.

“You know my reasons.”

Jacaery is quiet next to you and you dropped the knife on the counter, wrapping the rest of the loaf up again. You can still feel his gaze on you as you spread the butter on the bread slices, knowing he was waiting for you to elaborate, and after a few more moments, you broke, the knife clattering against the wooden surface.

“Jace, you know I… Have a deep affection for you.”

“As do I for you.”

The two of you both skirted around the big word, not quite bold enough to say it yet.

“I do not wish to give my father the expectation to marry me off to you.”

“I’m the crown prince, surely your father would not have any grievances against a match.”

“It is not my father who is against the match.”

“What?”

Jacaerys’ eyes widened in surprise at the implication, and you sighed quietly. You weren’t planning on telling him, knowing it would hurt his feelings greatly, but did you have any other choice?

“You say you have a deep affection for me, and then say that you’re against a match,” Jacaerys said, his brows knitted in confusion. “I don’t understand. Isn’t a match born out of affection and not duty what you have been wanting?”

“Jace, this is more complicated than me harboring any affections for you-” you started, but your words were cut shot by Jacaerys speaking your name.

“If it’s about leaving home, I promise King’s Landing is not as bad as it seems. And on dragonback, it is only a three day journey. When I first left, I got terribly homesick as well, but-“

“I do not wish to be Queen!” you exploded, falling into Jacaerys’ words and he took a step back at your outburst, surprise flickering over his face. You let out a long, deep, breath, hand clutching at your chest, calming yourself down.

The kitchen is eerily calm, neither of you spoke, the only sound is the fire crackling in the hearth. Your voice is quiet when you finally spoke again.

“I am the youngest child of my father, Jace. His only daughter. My oldest brother is betrothed and to be wed in less than a year’s time, the second oldest is courting his partner to be betrothed. I was not trained to rule, to have any responsibility or to represent my house. You are the crown prince, set to inherit the Iron Throne, to rule over seven kingdoms. Seven, Jace. How exactly do you expect me to fulfill the role of a Queen consort?”

Jacaerys’ mouth was parted, as if he wasn’t quite sure what to say. Which you understood. You have never shared your feelings about his position as heir before, how you resented it a little for it was the only reason you couldn’t let yourself be matched with him.

“I’m not fit to be Queen.”

“I… Didn’t know that you felt this way,” he said, his voice tight. “I can’t shirk my duties.”

“And I am not asking you to,” you assured him. “I just can’t… Be the wife you need.”

“What if-”

“Jacaerys, please.”

Your voice was pleading, knowing discussing this any further was no use. You weren’t fit for a Queen. Jacaerys’ face shut down, and he put his mask up, before nodding, ever the understanding prince, much to your luck. “Of course. Whatever you wish for, my love.”

His love.

“I will see you on the morrow.”

Reaching for your hand, he grasped it gently with his, placing a soft kiss on your knuckles, before stepping back, letting go of you. As he departed from the kitchen, you leaned against the counter, your breath shaky. You knew you hurt him, disappointed him, but this was so much bigger than the two of you.

You breathed out deeply, hoping the sorrow would leave, but it didn’t. Reaching for the bread, your appetite had gone, but leaving it would be wasting it, so you bit into your dinner. And as you ate, you couldn’t help but think that the bread tasted like ashes in your mouth.

The next few days, Jacaerys seemed to respect your wishes to keep his distance. You still saw him around the keep, occasionally walking with your father, mostly though you saw him accompanying your brother as they conversed quietly, but intently. You wondered what they were talking about. Whenever you saw him, you noticed that Jacaerys kept his gaze away from took, and you couldn’t help but feel saddened, even though this was what you asked him for in the first place.

You missed his company. Especially at night. Despite the fact that you had never crossed any lines, or did anything improper - spending the dark hours at the library talking, exchanging stories about your childhood, maybe coming very close to a kiss - you were still a maiden. Of course you spending time with him alone was unseemly, and your father would betroth you immediately would he find out. It might be better for you, that Jacaerys kept away.

It was the end of the week when you saw him again. You were sat in the dining hall, at another feast your father had called for. It was the night of the departure of the representatives of House Blackwood, though even if it weren’t, you didn’t doubt that there would still be a feast. Your father didn’t need an occasion celebrate.

Your demeanor was polite, bht curt, hoping that it would deter any lords from asking for a dance, but of course Lord Ren was keen on offering you his hand.

Giving him a polite smile, you let him lead you around the dance floor, already forming some sort of excuse in your head when someone stepped to you, offering you his hand.

It was Jacaerys.

“May I, Lord Ren?”

“Of course, my prince.”

Lord Ren bowed to Jacaerys and you bowed your head out of respect before Jacaery placed a hand on your waist, his other finding your hand. You couldn’t help but feel relief that Jacaerys had freed you from Lord Ren, but you tried to keep your composure.

“I thought we talked about this, Jacaerys,” you muttered out between gritted teeth, as to uphold the image of a happy lady, dancing with her guest.

“We have.”

Jacaerys replied easily, never missing a step as he spoke, despite keeping his eyes on you. Ever the perfect prince.

You turned away, not being able to hold his eyes on you, your stomach churning.

“I am sorry if I hurt your feelings, Jace,” you said quietly, not wanting anyone to overhear you talking to the crown prince in such a familiar way. “I wish things were different- That I was different.”

Jacaerys’ hand tightened on your waist, and he used that to pull you closer.

“I spoke to your father, and he gave his blessing for our betrothal.”

Your eyes widened at his words, as you hadn’t expected them, the shock evident on your face. You had told him about your fears of being Queen consort and he just disregarded them.

“What?”

“I know you’re afraid that you won’t be able to fulfill your duties as Queen, my Queen consort. My mother will teach you, I will be by your side. My mother is set to live a long life and by the time I will inherit the throne, you will be properly trained. And I swear on my life, you will make the best Queen consort the realm will ever see.”

Stunned, you blinked your eyes at him, as if this all was a dream. Never before had you experience someone being so stubborn to prove you of your own worth.

“It hurt me greatly when you told of your reluctance of our match, because I cannot fathom that you see yourself anything less than you are.”

As he spoke, Jacaerys kept his gaze ahead, but he finally he turned to look at you, his eyes softening.

“I will not force you. This is your choice. If you do not wish to marry me, you won’t have to. Just know that I believe in you and what you will be able to do as Queen consort.”

You were trying so hard to find the right words, your feet stopped working for a second and you stumbled, but Jacaerys was quick to tighten his grip around you, keeping you upright.

“I- don’t know what to say,” you admitted.

“Say yes?”

Jacaerys looked down at you, his eyes hopeful and you felt your resolve melt away, especially because it looked he had planned it down to the last detail.

“Yes, okay.”

Jacaerys smiled at you before turning to the side, giving a curt nod and that was all it took for your father thrust his jug into the air, the ale spilling over the rim.

“I am thrilled to announce that Prince Jacaerys Velaryon, heir to Queen Rhaenyra Targaryen of the Seven Realms, has asked my daughter for her hand in marriage… And she has accepted!”

The raucuos cheers that followed after nearly deafened your ears and you hid your face in Jacaerys’ chest - an act of affection you allowed yourself now that the two of you were betrothed.

“This couldn’t wait until we were in closed chambers?” you whispered, pink tinging your cheeks. Jacaerys shook his head, lifting your hand to brush his lips over your knuckles.

“There’s no backing out of it now, my love.”

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

author's note: thoughts?? :)

[deerspherestudios]

🔍 QNA MASTERLIST (PT.4) 🔎

This masterlist covers general lore and an AU featuring MindReader!Mychael.

📍 For part 1, it's [HERE] for abilities, romantic/yandere traits and his opinion on kids. 📍 For part 2, it's [HERE] for anatomy. 📍 For part 3, it's [HERE] for reactions to different MCs.

Random Mychael lore❕

He has a different name in his own language, but goes by Mychael.

He also chose Mychael as a name himself.

He doesn't have a last name.

When did he start knitting and why?

Where did the nickname 'firefly' come from?

What music would he like?

His favorite smells are old books, honey and gasoline.

He's super ticklish.

How did he carry MC to his home?

His favorite thing to knit are beanies.

He'd love bringing you outdoors.

He's a quiet sleeper.

He sleeps in a fetal position.

He sleeps with both sets of eyes closed.

He'd love cheek kisses.

(Minor) loredump!

His knowledge on marriage.

He's overworked himself when fixing up the cabin.

Would he like stargazing?

You're not the first human he's found unconscious.

He'd be okay wearing a dress.

What's his wardrobe like?

He has a fear/phobia of snowstorms, thunder/lightning, trains/train whistles and water wells.

We can't get sick from him.

Does he have a religion/beliefs?

He would love the Shrek series.

The chickens' name origins (they're all flowers).

He's never considered humans as 'food'.

How did Mychael get his hens?

His favorite candies would be marshmallows and cotton candy.

If he had internet, he'd mostly look up arts-and-crafts and recipes. He'd also love DIY candy kits. He would enjoy nonverbal ASMR.

He prefers being warm.

He kinda celebrates New Years' and loves fireworks. + Why he loves fireworks but are terrified of thunderstorms.

He doesn't need skincare but would enjoy face masks.

His first experience with bees.

He's never played UNO (but would love board and card games).

How does Mychael view the animals/people he meets in the forest?

More Mychael lore❕

He can't handle spicy food as it makes him physically ill.

He's ambidextrous.

His MBTI is INFJ-T.

His favorite desserts are pumpkin pie and cranberry muffins.

His favorite books are self-help skill books and picture books.

His favorite color is yellow. His favorite animal is a jellyfish.

He used to wear cloaks when it was socially acceptable to.

He doesn't believe in ghosts.

How did he learn to speak and pronounce words?

He would love origami.

He'd love to have a cow but think it'd be high maintenance.

He prefers tea over coffee.

His first time seeing the ocean.

He would enjoy K-pop, phonk and electropop music the most.

He would enjoy making fairy bread!

His favorite Ghibli movie would be The Secret World of Arrietty.

Kid!Mychael. + His personality.

Mychael playing Stardew Valley.

Mychael trying a laptop at the library for the first time.

Mychael's perspective in Ending 2 and Ending 3.

Mychael would lose against Atom (Astronought) and Alma (Lift Your Spirits).

Mychael wearing (terribly-shaped) glasses.

About MR!Mychael ❕

MR!Mychael origins and discussion.

MR!Mychael with MC with nice thoughts about him.

MR!Mychael wouldn't rescue MC in Day 1.

MR!Mychael analysis and the type of MC he'd fall for.

How MR!Mychael's power works.

How MC would meet MR!Mychael.

MR!Mychael would react the same regardless of MC's psyche.

MR!Mychael with an overthinking MC.

MR!Mychael can't see dreams.

MR!Mychael with an MC with an earworm.

MR!Mychael's personality + when comfortable with MC.

[smuthospital]

⭐️Yandere Husband x reader⭐️

Premise: Your husband really wants kids, but you're not really all for the idea

Warning: Noncon, breeding, fem reader

Minors DNI

You prepared a cute little basket with bread, some homemade jam and a couple of sandwiches along with a delicious strawberry cake you baked just for today! You look up at the playground from where you're sitting, the breeze feeling just right. It's a beautiful day out. Kids playing, people walking their dogs, couples like yourself picnicking. You and your husband have been together for three years and married one. He's the sweetest man in the world and you couldn't feel luckier to be with him. Your mother introduced him to you. He was her close friend's son. His mother and yours just so happen to go to the same knitting class. Although his mother was of a higher class, your mother and his had a lot in common and hit it off right away. Your mother would have buried you six feet deep if you refused to see him, not that you would've. He's handsome, sweet and has a well-paying job. Of course, that's the side of him that he allows you to see.

He begged his mom to introduce you after he saw you sitting on your porch one day when he was picking his mother up from your house. You waved at him and smiled. His heart was about to pop out of his chest. Your beauty was nothing he'd ever even imagined before. Everything about you is perfect. Everything. He asked his mother about you as soon as he drove off. She was more than happy to tell him. She's quite fond of you and would choose you as a daughter-in-law over anyone else. She couldn't be happier that her beloved first son has shown interest in a jewel like you.

He couldn't help but fall even deeper in love when he got to meet with you. Your voice rings bells in his heart and your eyes speak to his soul. He knew from then on that you were made for each other. He would never admit it, but he's absolutely obsessed with you. He would prefer to say that he's in love with you. Dating was smooth. He quickly proposed as soon as an appropriate amount of time passed. It couldn't come soon enough to him. You're so sweet and understanding. So thoughtful and intelligent. You share interests and when you don't, you make the effort to try. So does he, of course. You're so perfect.

Once married, he was happy to go to work and come back to your loving embrace. He'd rather die than have you support yourself. Anything you want, anything you need is yours. You don't even have to ask, your husband is very observant. You might mention something in passing that he'll overhear. Something small, something you didn't even put a lot of focus into, but he'll remember. He'll remember and he'll get it for you as soon as possible. He'd do anything...and that means anything. If anyone made you cry, he'd comfort you...before beating them unconscious. Getting his hands dirty is a small price to pay for you. But dear god, if anyone dared to lay a finger on you... well...consider them gone. Consider them erased actually. Consider the fact that they won't be bothering anyone ever again. Consider people closely associated with them being severely injured.

He's a ray of sunshine. You love him and he loves you. He loves you very much. You've never had any serious arguments. The two of you got along so well that there weren't any disagreements, but there were, he'd just fold and let it go. The only problem is that now that you're married, he wants kids, but you're not ready. You've never been very good with kids. They make you anxious. The sticky fingers, their delicate little heads, the fact that they could become psychopaths if you don't raise them properly. Not to mention how expensive and time-consuming they are. You spend all that time and energy on them and get almost nothing in return. Don't even get you started on the effects it'll have on your body.

There's just too much that could go wrong and besides, you just font feel like you're mature enough to have a kid of your own when you still feel like one yourself. You're not ready to raise a human being. There's so much you want to do, want to explore and you can't do that with a baby. Your husband on the other hand is great with them. He's the eldest brother of six so he's used to taking care of kids. At birthday parties, you can find him carrying three kids at a time, one over his shoulders and two in his arms, even the older ones, which doesn't surprise you because he's built big and strong. Must've eaten his vegetables when he was a kid, you snicker, inwardly. Your husband pokes you every time he sees a cute video of a baby on his phone like a boy asking his parents for a puppy. "Just watch! Aren't they cute!? (Yyyy/nnnn)!" He sticks his phone in your face and makes you watch a bunch of videos. He has a severe case of baby fever.

You look over at your fiance. He's looking out at the swing set with a dreamy look on his face. A little boy is pushing his younger sister and they look like they're having a blast. You cringe, knowing your husband is gonna bring up the baby talk again when you get home. Just then, you feel a light tug on your dress and look over to see a little girl around the age of 4, wobbling on her feet, looking up at you. You at least try to be good with kids. "Hey, what are you doing?" You laugh nervously. You know you're in for it now. You can feel your husband's intense gaze on the back of your neck.

"...Mama said that if I'm good, I can have cake. I was good today, so can I have some,...please?" You look up to see a woman face palming and yelling at her daughter to come back and stop bothering the nice lady. You smile at her mother, letting her know it's okay. "Well you asked so very nicely, how can I say no?" You cut a small slice and plate it for her. You give her the plate, but she just looks up at you with puppy dog eyes. "I...I always let Mama feed me," she says as fiddles with her fingers nervously. So adorable. You look up at her mother, who seems to be busy dealing with one of her other kids and decide to give her a break. Although this is breaching your comfort zone, you just can't say no to that face.

You pick up a fork and begin feeding her. You just know your fiance has the most love-struck look on his face, if you were looking at him, you'd be able to see big hearts in his eyes. You peek over at him to see just that and roll your eyes. "Mm so yummy! Thank you miss!" She gets on her tippy toes and kisses you on the cheek. You must admit that was adorable, but your opinion remains firm. No kids. No way. You still have plenty more reasons not to have any so cuteness is not enough to sway you. The little girl waddles away back to her mom. You don't want to turn around. You sigh and look at your husband to see he is still swooning.

"Oh my god! That was beautiful. You be such a good mom!" He coos. You groan. "We talked about this so many times, honey. You know how I feel about kids," you pout, folding your arms. You could've sworn you saw his eyebrow twitch like he was upset. "You'd be great, I believe in you. I just know it," he beams. Oh, he's not mad. Must've been your imagination. You roll your eyes. He didn't listen to a word you said though. You love him so much, but he's a brick wall when it comes to things like this. He's been on your ass quite literally about kids ever since you got married. "I need more time," you say, looking away from his pouting face. He was a bit gloomy for the rest of your outing after that. Last night, you misplaced your birth control pack. You were worried about it, but you just brushed it off and decided to take two the next night when you do find them.

Soon, your picnic comes to an end and you head home. He's on you as soon as you shut the door, kissing you passionately. You return the gesture, hugging him close. "Don't take your birth control tonight," he whispers huskily in your ear. You stop and push his chest. He takes a step back and looks down at you, eyebrows furrowed. "We literally just talked about this! Respect that I don't want any dumb kids!" You shout. You expect him to apologize, to get on his knees and beg for forgiveness like he always does when he's in the wrong. Then he'd go and get you flowers, and cook for you, but this time, he looks down at you rage evident in his expression. He looks really pissed. You shrink in your spot. What?

"You're being ridiculous, (y/n)! It's time for you to grow up! You're old enough to be a responsible mother so stop acting like a child. I can support the both of you easily. You don't have to lift a fucking finger, just have my child already. I've been so fucking patient with you. My mother and yours have been asking us where their grandchild is. What the fuck do I tell them? I'm wondering too! I've been waiting for you to change your mind and be reasonable, but you're really getting on my nerves now," he grits his teeth as he finishes his sentence. Each sentence felt like a stab to your heart. He's never said such cruel words to you or even cruel words in general before. Your husband hasn't so much as insulted you. You never could've imagined your husband had this side to him.

He gripped your arm and began dragging you upstairs. "Hey! S-Stop! Stop it!" You cry, holding onto the stair rail. He looks back at you. That was the last fucking straw. You hear a loud clap and your head turned. Huh? Your cheek stings? Tears begin to well in your eyes as you hold your reddening cheek. He takes the time to pull you the rest of the way up and into the bedroom. He sets you on the bed and locks the door, taking his clothes off right there, his well-built figure casting a shadow over you. You begin sobbing in your place on the bed, covering your face with your hands. He walks over and gently hugs you, rubbing your back. You push at him, but he keeps you still pressed to his body. "Stop that," he whispers in your ear. His voice is commanding yet gentle, but you ignore him and continue fighting his hold. "That's it. I'm so tired of you acting like this. It's time you give me what I deserve, a family." He grips your dress and violently rips it off you, leaving you in your bra and panties. You've had sex before, but never like this. This is the first time your eyes held fear while looking at your husband.

He shoves you back onto the bed, climbing over you and trapping you beneath him, smiling. He traces a finger from your collar to the center of your bra, where it stills before ripping it off you. You know better than to scream so you whimper as he throws it to the side. He places a hand over your breast, squeezing it painfully. You grab his wrist, trying to pry it off. "You are gonna be a great mommy. Can't wait to watch these fill up with milk." His face takes on that dreamy look again. "Seeing you today in the park confirmed it. You're more than ready." You feel his cock rubbing your thigh. He yanks your panties down your legs, tossing them into the forgotten corner with his clothes and yours. With his other hand and rubs your pussy. You whine and struggle under him, but you know you're no match for him. He spreads your thighs open and lodges himself between them, his cock rubbing up and down your fold, taunting you. "I love you...so much," he says before slowly entering you. You are NOT having a fucking baby. You'll take your birth control and that'll be that. He smiles down at you, knowing what you're thinking and bucks his hips. He laughs like he knows something you don't, but the idea is completely lost on you.

He bottoms out, moaning as he does. He rubs the bulge in your stomach lovingly. "I want a big family, honey. Make me a daddy. Let me breed you," he says, rutting into you. Even though he's being so rough, it feels so damn good. He picks up your thighs and pressed them down beside your head, squishing your cervix with his cock. Your tongue rolls out your mouth as your eyes roll into the back of your skull. He kisses your neck and cheeks, giving you soft praise. "I knew you'd be good for me. Such a good little wife and soon to be mommy. You're gonna look so cute stuffed with our baby. God, I fucking love you," he chants as he rams into you again and again, your brain is far too clouded by the feeling of him spearing your guts to understand him.

You dig your nails into his back as continues bruising your poor cervix. You let out a choked whine. "It's ok, honey, you can cum. I'll allow it." As if on command, you do. He kisses your lips passionately, quickening his pace. Moans leave your mouth each time he pounds into you, the air and sound being forced from your lungs each time on impact.

His fists curled in the sheets, his eyes clenching. He slams his hips to yours, your body being forced farther before he grabs your hips and forces you back. He grunts as he cums deep inside you, your stomach filling to the brim with his seed. He sighs and kisses your cheek. You breathe heavily, waiting for him to get off, but he doesn't. He just starts going again like he didn't just fill your guts up.

"W-Whah?" You whine. "I need to make sure my seed takes, darling. We'll be doing this until I say we're done so don't complain now." You can tell by his tone that he's daring you to try something. You just clench your eyes and keep taking him. You're so bloated with cum. He's never been like this before, always stopping when you wanted to and treating you like porcelain. Now he's grabbing you and fucking into you like he's been holding back for years, which you now think he has. Your eyelids begin drooping after the sixth time he forced you to cum. You can't keep them open and he notices. "It's ok, take a nap. Warning, I'm not stopping. I guess I tired you out," he laughs.

You wake up to him hugging your back, spooning you. You look at your alarm clock. It's been hours and judging from the still-wet cum all over your thighs, he only stopped recently. You slowly and very carefully slip out of his hold and off the bed. You feel a soreness like never before in your stomach and almost fall to the floor. Oh god, your uterus. More cum slips out of you as you walk to your vanity. You open a couple of drawers where you think your birth control might be, but it's not there. Where could it be if not in your vanity!? You look around frantically, but you still can't find them! You begin looking everywhere. You check the bathroom cupboard, opening it slowly so it doesn't creak and wake up your crazy husband. It's not in there! You look down to see the crumpled package in the trash. You pick it up to see it empty. Every single slot, even the pink period pills. You begin tearing up as you see there are tiny white specs by the sink. No! He washed them away! How could he!? You clutch the sink as you stare at the empty package. You feel a presence creep up behind you. You look up in the mirror to see your husband right behind you, looking down at you with disdain.

"I knew you were going to take them after I told you not to so I got rid of them last night." He planned this!? "Let's go back to bed...Common," he says tiredly and grabs your arm, forcing you back into bed with him, your back to his chest. You feel his cock harden and you try to inch away, but he grabs your hips and rubs his cock up and down your folds before jamming it inside you until he bottoms out. You whimper with your hands over your mouth, knowing that if you annoyed him while he was tired, you'd get in real trouble. He lazily humps into you, rubbing your bulging tummy from behind you, his lips kissing your head. You pass out later from exhaustion.

You wake up to find him not in bed. You take the chance to get up and throw on a sweatshirt and sweats. You grab your wallet and sprint out of the room and down the stairs, ignoring the painful limp he gave you and the soreness in your poor tummy. Your wrist is caught mid-air..." Where the fuck do you think you're going, honey?" He asks, his sweet smile contrasting the bone-crushing grip he has your wrist in.

"O-Oh! Um...we...need-" He cuts you off in the middle of your lie, yanking your wrist and forcing you closer to him. "You were going to go kill our baby." You've never seen such darkness in his eyes. "Well, you can't. I won't allow it. The doors have new locks just for you, love. You're not going anywhere." He smiles down at you, that same handsome face you love, but now come to fear. You gulp as he leads you into the kitchen where he prepared a beautiful breakfast.

You soon accept what's to happen. Your husband is a loved man. Loved by all. His family, your family, his job, the community, everyone. Your husband is often described as charismatic, funny, helpful and friendly. If you told anyone of them what he's done to you, they'd call you a liar without hesitation or even better, take his side, agreeing that it's time you give him a child because it's your duty as his wife to do at least that for him. Be a little grateful for all he does. Providing for you and taking care of you. You'd rather keep your mouth shut. Nothing good can come of telling anyone. It only took a few days of brutal fucking till you woke up early in the morning feeling nauseous and ran to the bathroom, him hot on your tail, ready to hold your hair back as you emptied your stomach into the toilet. You sob as you hug your knees on the bathroom floor. He got on the floor with you, wiping your tears with his thumbs and holding your face. He smiles wide and hugs you tightly. "Yes! (Y/n)! I'm so proud of you! We're having a baby! I love you!"

Yandere husband with pregnant reader head cannons:

- You're allowed out of the house after a while of proving your obedience! Hooray! With the exception that he has to be there, of course. A man flirted with you a bit while you were shopping and your husband was within earshot. You still cringe when you remember the sound the man's nose made as your husband punched him. It took three security guards to get him off the guy.

- Your husband makes you eat so much! "Sit down and finish your food. You're eating for two, remember!? Or did you forget?"

- Paints the baby's room with non-toxic paint and will not let you help or hold anything. "No, it's too dangerous, (Y/n). Sit back down, I've got this, ok?"

- Spares no expense for you and the baby. Buys everything people recommend to him

- Watches youtube videos for things he needs to watch out for during your pregnancy

- Does pregnancy stretches with you and won't take no for an answer. "It's good for you and the baby so get to it! I'll do them with you so we look silly together!" You both still have a fun time.

- You once dropped a book on the floor and your husband burst through the wall to get to you, leaving a cartoon cutout of himself and all. "WHATHAPPENDAREYOUOK!?" He shouted all in one breath. You assured him that you were just fine and that you'd only dropped a book, but he still cradled you in his arms crying.

- Cooks all your meals and cuddles you every single night.

- You being pregnant does not mean he stops fucking you, no. He's just a lot more gentle with you.

- Has everything about your pregnancy and birth planned to the exact detail, even when you'll have the next one.

- He rubs his face against your tummy and kisses it, singing to the baby.

- Do you need to get up? "Here, take my arm...actually...I'll hold you!"

- He picks up the phone on the first ring...and you better too or he's racing home.

[mambodork]

Obligatory Limited Life mafia au 😁 but the Watchers is some stupid rich multimillionaire billionaire family who also controls the underworld & the Clockers are a tight-knit small mafia group who parodies the Watcher's name (haha get it? Like... a watch and a clock...) to criticize & mock them.

Grian is the Watcher's heir and he REALLY doesn't like his family nor the things they do so Joel & Jimmy who r sons of other rich families the Watchers are acquainted with (can ALMOST call them family friends) dragged him into making a gang lovingly named the Bad Boys <3 despite its name and the fact that its a gang, they actually just sneak out to do questionably good things such as but not limited to: Bake bread (and chuck them at peoples heads), go to ppls funeral w suits and sunglasses all ominously so the person who died looked mysterious, beat children at online games, etc.

Scar & Grian met one day and just became besties 4 resties in less than an hour idk what to say

[explicit-tae]

WHAT THE HELL EVERYONE WAKE UP WE GOT AN UNGODLY HOUR UPDATE AND A BABY IS INVOLVEDJRIEKFKSKWKDJ I LOVE MY LIFE

this is like so old but why not use this to drop yet another part that i told myself i wasnt dropping

Ungodly Hour (9)

Jungkook forces you to face the reality that you are indeed pregnant - ew.

Warning: jungkook being jungkook, smut ofc, kissing, simp jungkook duh, protective jungkook, dirty talking, creampie, riding, unprotected sex,

“Y/N,” 

That voice. You dreaded hearing it now.

“I say this with the least bit of anger in me…but…what the fuck are you doing?”

Your eyes blink upwards from the soapy sink, the water running as you slowly drop the plate. Jungkook is staring right back at you with a look of pure disappointment. It’s as though you ruined his mood entirely. He had strolled through the door happily as ever with groceries he was going to prepare the two of you to eat and the smile on his lips disappeared in an instant.

“Washing the dishes.” you deadpan, turning off the water. You already know what Jungkook is going to say and you have to mentally prepare yourself for it.

“You can’t do things like this-”

“You can’t do things like this, Y/N, you’re pregnant.” you mock him with a roll of your eyes, an act that catches him by surprise.

“I’m serious.” Jungkook shakes his head and places the bags of groceries onto the island and rounds the corner to meet you. 

“Ever since we found out about this, you’ve gone insane.” you cross your arms with a tilt of your head. “I can’t wash dishes. I can’t walk alone-”

“For your safety, of course.” Jungkook shrugs his shoulders. “You’re the true crime watcher. You know what happens when girls walk alone.”

“Can we explain why I can’t wash dishes then?” you tilt your head.

“I may not have the answer, baby.” Jungkook places a hand on your chin and presses his lips to your forehead to peck them. “I’m sure 1,000 ways to die does.”

Jeon Jungkook was determined that this pregnancy was going to be handled with care. The amount of emotions he’s gone through alone at the realization of even the possibility that you were pregnant was overwhelming. Witnessing the positive pregnancy test and even getting to sit through doctor visits for added confirmation had filled him with emotion.

“I told you in the Jeon family that the woman has to relax.” Jungkook begins to take out the groceries he has bought. “You think my mother was straining her back when she was pregnant with me and my brother? Of course not.”

Jungkook then turns to look at you, eyes fixed. “Speaking of labor…did you quit your job yet?”

Not this again.

“We’ve been through this.” you wipe your hands on your shirt lazily and go towards the fridge. You would help him put the groceries away on a good day. However, Jungkook was adamant on you doing absolutely nothing that could harm you or the child you were barely pregnant with.

“We have.” Jungkook nods.  “And I want you to quit.”

“I don’t want to quit.” you don’t look at Jungkook and instead go towards a few slices of cheese to make yourself the perfect grilled cheese that you were now envisioning in your mind. 

“You always complain about how stressed you are working there.” Jungkook deadpans. “What if they have you stock?”

“Then I’ll stock.” you shrug, again focusing on the grilled cheese. You’re buttering the sliced bread when you speak again. “My mother didn’t raise a bitch.”

You then knit your brows and hum. In a way she did. Your bitchy attitude towards Jungkook had diminished when you realized that you, dare you say, love him. Especially now that you were very much pregnant by the same man you claimed you’d never give a chance to. How the universe humbles you is amazing.

“Y/N…” 

Jungkook takes a deep breath. He turns to face you fully, crossing his arms. You’re carefully placing the cheese onto the bread and he watches you place it into the air fryer. You turn to him with a displeased look.

“You don’t even like working there.”

True.

“I know.” you nod your head. “I have-”

“Don’t say you have bills.” Jungkook interrupts. “I pay all of your bills.”

Your eyes turn  to small slits for a moment.

“I’m saving money.” you shrug again. “For the baby.”

Jungkook’s gaze softens a bit, but he has to remain strong. If he gives into you now then you’d never quit.

“Why?” Jungkook questions. “We have enough money.”

“You,” you scoff. “have enough money.”

“I don’t know what that even means, Y/N.” Jungkook shakes his head. 

“I can’t have you pay for everything while I sit around and not do anything.”

Jungkook blinks a few times and his response shouldn’t surprise you. It’s Jungkook, after all. “Why not?” he questions slowly, genuinely confused. Probably because he already pays for everything now and he was completely fine with it.

Your hands begin to rub at your temples and slowly you begin to laugh. 

“How long are you planning on working there, anyways? Soon you’ll begin to show. School is already stressful enough, don’t you think?” Jungkook decides to take this time to put away the groceries so it doesn’t appear that he’s being too demanding of you and your wishes. “You can always…take a break from both. Just relax.”

The airfryer beeps and you thank the universe for giving you a bit of a distraction. You don’t want to think about school or work now and all you wanted to do was sink your teeth into this grilled cheese.

“We still have to tell our parents.”

Another situation you were holding back from, even if it has been three months since you initially found out. You had held off telling anyone in your family and - even now - it was awkward meeting Jungkook for the first time to reveal that you were pregnant. Besides, you weren’t that far along and you didn’t necessarily look pregnant. Chaeyoung thought you did but that was only because she knew and always insisted on touching your “bump” that you swore wasn’t there.

You take a big bite of the sandwich and swallow yourself in a silent self-pity party. 

“I know.” is all you say in response to Jungkook. 

As the last item is put away, Jungkook then drops yet another statement that shouldn’t surprise you. 

“I found somewhere bigger for us to move.”

You lick your lips, whipping your head to look at Jungkook. 

“Bigger?” you hum. “This place is already huge.”

“Not big enough for a baby.” Jungkook tilts his head. “They’ll need their own room eventually. It’ll grow into a child then a teenager and-”

“Please,” you close your eyes for a moment with a shake of your head. “you’re getting too far into the future.”

“Someone has to.” Jungkook retorts. “I’ve been looking in the area for us to upsize. I didn’t want to get anything without your approval.”

“You don’t need my approval.” you snicker. “Just get-”

“Stop doing that.” Jungkook’s tone changes to one that’s more serious. 

You take the last bite of your grilled cheese just as the mood changes. You knit your brows at the man. 

“You and the baby, Y/N,” Jungkook begins, taking a few steps closer to you. His hair had grown back out from the cut he initially did and it bounces with each step. “are my top priority. I want to take care of you. Your opinion still matters at the end of the day.”

There’s something in you that shifts and you blame the baby completely for fucking with your hormones. 

Jungkook is taken aback when your eyes begin to become glossy and you begin to cry right in front of him. For a moment he’s stunned, thinking that he has said something to you that caused you to cry. Then, he understands just how emotional you were (thanks to the fetus inside of you) when you crash yourself into his chest and begin to sob.

“This pregnancy is kicking your ass already.” Jungkook jokes, but his arm wraps you into a hug, one hand soothingly rubbing your back. 

“Fuck you.” you sniffle.

“I did and this is how we got here.” Jungkook jokes with a chuckle. “You’re crying now but…I think you’re going to hate me soon.”

“Why?” you murmur against his chest. 

There’s a quick knock on the door followed by it beginning to jingle. You slowly lift yourself from Jungkook’s chest, eyeing him suspiciously. 

“Remember that I love you.” Jungkook presses his lips to yours, pecking it. “And, I love our baby.”

“Jungkook…”

You can hear voices enter - unfamiliar ones. 

“I invited my parents over for lunch.” Jungkook says quickly. “Please don’t hate me, Y/N, my mother has been begging to meet you for months and-”

Your hands dig into his shirt, your eyes widening. Your sadness - caused by the great amount of love and adoration you felt at his words - appeared to diminish on the spot.

“You did what?!” you hiss, teeth gritting.

“Jungkook?”

That must’ve been Jungkook’s mother calling for him, followed by a pair of footsteps inching closer to where you two were. 

Fuck Jeon Jungkook. Now you were panicking - probably more than you needed to be. Jungkook told you stories of his parents and how excited his mother was to meet you. He claimed he spoke highly of you to her and you didn’t doubt him. Still, you looked a mess. You weren’t dressed to meet even your own parents right now. There’s a stain on your shirt and the pajama pants you wore were Jungkook’s iron man ones because they were comfy. 

Fuck Jeon Jungkook again.

“I hate you.” you murmur as Jungkook turns around just as his mother peaks her head through the kitchen to find her son.

“Ma!” Jungkook gushed, opening his arms to greet his mother with a hug that he met her half way to. 

“Your hair has gotten so long since the last time I saw you.” you hear his mother speak, her voice soft and motherly-like. “You never come around anymore.”

“I saw you a month ago.” Jungkook snorts. “I’ve been busy. Where is-”

“He’s stuck at meetings all day.” his mother adds, already knowing what her son was going to ask concerning his father. 

You stand awkwardly behind Jungkook, your nerves beating your ass mentally.

“Ma,” Jungkook slowly steps aside and turns around. “this is-”

“Y/N.” she finishes, coming a bit closer to you to wrap you in a hug. It stuns you for a moment and Jungkook offers a soft smile when she does. You proceed to hug her back, your irritation towards her son slowly dying down. “I thought I was never going to meet you.”

Jungkook exhales, holding in a breath he wasn’t aware of. “We’ve been busy-”

“That’s what he’s been saying.” his mother now speaks to you with a shake of her head. “You’re so cute.”

Your body burns with embarrassment at her compliment but you gently thank her. You look a mess, truly, and the more you remember this, the more you think about how you wanted to punch Jungkook in the gut. 

“I was just about to start lunch.” Jungkook claps his hands. “You and Y/N can relax while-”

“I can help.” you suggest.

“No.” Jungkook deadpans, his eyes widening a bit. He makes a gesture with his head at his mother right in front of you. It’s as if you wanted him to die.

You release a huff. No physical labor. Wouldn’t it look more suspicious if you didn’t help? Then his mother would suspect something.

She could also suspect that you were lazy and using her son for-

“His father cooks all the time.” his mother holds onto your hands and offers you such a warm and kind smile. “That’s where he gets it from.”

Jungkook’s mother was a kind woman and she appeared to like you just as Jungkook said she would. She speaks fondly of her son and shares stories of his childhood, all the while Jungkook cooks in the background. He makes you tea, one you usually drink when you feel sick and serves his mother some wine.

“I thought I’ll never get to meet you. Jungkook kept you locked up in here.”

Jungkook chuckles softly at the tone his mother gives him, his cheeks flushing. 

“I…I’ve been busy.” you laugh off, as well. “If I would’ve known you were coming I would’ve…dressed better.”

“Nonsense.” his mother shakes her head with a hearty laugh. “It took a lot of self-control to not come here myself and meet you. You bring so much joy to Kookie’s life.”

Jungkook remains silent, plating the food for the three of you. He glances your way to silently assure that you weren’t overwhelmed. You’re a bit flustered as he can see but comfortable nonetheless.

“Okay~” Jungkook sing-songs after a few more minutes, placing two plates in front of you and his mother. He goes to serve you two some water, as well - extra ice for his mother and just a few cubes for you. Just the way you two enjoyed it.

Jungkook has always enjoyed watching you eat and it increases now that you’re pregnant. He - unbeknownst to you - began to search for what was healthy for the child and how he could introduce it to you in a way you’d enjoy it.

“When are you guys going to tell me?”

You stop chewing to focus your attention on Jungkook's mother.

“The tea…the constant sneaking of stomach rubs…” her eyes lowered to Jungkook’s hand indeed on your stomach - he insisted on touching it whenever because he swore he could feel something, even if you told him that was impossible. “...the fact that I finally was able to meet her after months.”

Jungkook gently taps your thigh as he faces his mother. She offers a little eyebrow raise.

“Okay then, Ma.” Jungkook shrugs. “Y/N’s pregnant. I’m looking for a bigger-”

“I hope it’s a girl.” Jungkook’s mom sighs out. “I’m so sick of all the men.”

She was actually excited, even wrapping you in a hug.

“We can just wait a little longer-“

“We’re not waiting longer, Y/N.” Jungkook cuts you off.

You release a short sigh, your nerves eating you alive at this very moment. 

You didn’t want to have to do this - not now at least. You had time. You could even pop up randomly in a few months with the baby in hand if it meant avoiding telling your parents.

It wasn’t as if your parents were the traditional type. They weren’t married when they had your brother and by the pictures you saw, your mother was heavily pregnant with you at her own wedding.

Still, you always told them that a child was the last thing you wanted, if at all. Your mother always told you it was because you didn’t find a man worth giving a baby to - and you hated to be told “I told you so”.

Your parents were expecting you and Jungkook for dinner this Saturday evening. It was becoming a habit that she saw you and Jungkook once every week. She would gush about how handsome and smart Jungkook was and how happy she noticed you were lately - ew. 

“Why are you so hellbent on waiting anyways?” Jungkook asks. “My mother already knows.”

“That’s because you trapped me.” you seeth.

Jungkook chuckles, poking your cheek playfully. “Because of situations like this, baby.” he says, knocking on the front door. Usually, you would walk in, yet he noticed just how much you were stalling and decided to take things into his own hands. “It’s now or never.”

“I hate you.” you hiss, turning around just as your mother opens the door. “Mother..” you murmur.

“Why are you knocking, Y/N? Come in!” she says, wrapping both you and Jungkook into a hug. “You look even more handsome, Jungkook.”

You roll your eyes and scoff, going deeper into the home. Your brother was already here and appeared to be in a heated debate with your father in the living room while his children, really your niece, ran wild.

“Stop running.” you say to her as she nearly crashes into you. “Or you’re going to fall.” Eventually.

“You’re mean.” was all she responded with and continues to run. Your nephew has since learned how to walk and he attempts to follow his sister, yet he’s much slower.

You release a sigh - this is what your life was going to be soon. A child running around not bothering to listen to you in the slightest.

“I have some wine,” your mother makes her way towards the kitchen where you and Jungkook follow. There’s a pot boiling on the stove and the aroma alone causes your stomach to churn. “Y/N, grab the wine glasses.”

“Hey Jungkook!” your niece runs past you, nearly causing you to stumble to get to the man. She widens her arms. “Can you flip me like you did last time?”

“No.” you deadpan.

“Sure!” Jungkook exclaims.

You sigh.

You grasp two wine glasses, one for your mother and the other for Jungkook. 

Your niece is occupying Jungkook’s time with the amount of time she demands to be flipped while your nephew - who manages to waddle over - watches with slight amazement.

“Why are there only two wine glasses?” your mother asks. 

“I’m not really in the mood to drink.”

Jungkook glances your way, furrowing a brow.

“Why not?” she asks. “You’re always in the mood for wine.”

You shrug your shoulders, hoping that would be the end of it. You make your way to the cabinets to find yourself something to munch on.

“How about a beer?” she asks you, going to the fridge to open it and look for whatever your father has in there. “We have-”

“I don’t want a beer.” you say, taking out some cookies. “Really, mom-”

“Are you sick, Y/N?”

You turn around to face her. “Am I really that much of an alcoholic?” you question, unsure why you declining alcohol was such a big deal. 

“Don’t be so dramatic.” your mother waves you off.

You roll your eyes and dig into the cookies. Your eyes watch as Jungkook begins to play with both kids now, your niece on his back while he swings your nephew around. You swallow, tilting your head a bit at how content he seems to be. They were treating him like a jungle gym but he actually enjoyed it.

“I actually have a bottle of champagne.” your mother says, dragging you out of your thoughts. You hadn’t realized she left the kitchen until she returned with said bottle of champagne. “Expensive, too. I actually bought it on sale!”

Your mother this time actually takes the initiative to grab three glasses herself and pour. Jungkook gives your niece his phone to occupy her while he places your nephew on his shoulders. He strolls over to where you are leaning against the counter.

“Mother…”

“Jungkook.” she hands Jungkook his glass, the bubbling champagne sizzling inside. “And Y/N-”

“I don’t want anything to drink.”

“Well I don’t see why not.” Jungkook gently chuckles at your mothers words. “Jungkook is-”

“I don’t give a damn what Jungkook is doing.” you munch aggressively on another cookie. “He’s the one that got me pregnant.”

Your mother falls silent for a moment, her eyes slowly widening as she registers your words. Your nephew has his chubby hands on Jungkook’s forehead, his chin resting atop of his head. Jungkook is grinning encouragingly. “Not exactly how I wanted to tell you…” he trails off.

“We could’ve said it over dinner if I wasn’t pressured to drink.” you huff, continuing to munch on your cookies in peace. You admit that now that your mother knew, it did take a weight off of your shoulders.

“Preg…nant…?”

Your mothers behavior is different for Jungkook. She’s such a bubbly person that her state right now - wide eyes and shock - has him questioning if she was disappointed or not. He swallows, a deep sorrow running through him. He slowly puts your nephew onto the ground so he can waddle away and he comes face to face with your mother. 

“I love Y/N.” Jungkook exclaims, eyes determined. He didn’t want your mother to think that he was just going to get you pregnant and not plan on being there for you. Sure the two of you were young - but Jungkook loved you and the baby. “And I promise to love her and the baby unconditionally-”

Your mother begins to cry, shuttin Jungkook up. The sorrow runs through him again and his eyes widen. Has this been a mistake?

You roll your eyes. “Happy tears.” you tell Jungkook, not wanting him to break into tears too by getting the wrong idea from your mother. “She’s always this dramatic.”

“My baby,” your mother wraps you in a tight embrace. “is having a baby!”

Jungkook lets out a sigh of relief.

“And by such a sweet and handsome man!” she continues to gush, thanking the heavens that it was by Jungkook, someone she was praying you didn’t scare away with your attitude.

“You’re supposed to scold me about finishing college.” you say, hugging her back. 

“You can still finish college. Don’t be rash.” your mother squeezes you a little tighter. “Don’t stress yourself too hard.”

“That’s what I said!” Jungkook pipes in, nodding his head. “She doesn’t even want to quit her job and allow me to support her.”

You gasp, glaring at Jungkook. He knows that your mother would take his side and this was his plan all along.

“Why must you be so stubborn?” your mother releases you from her tight embrace and scolds you with hard eyes. “It’s not about you anymore, Y/N-”

“Not you, too.” you groan. You didn’t have time for this right now.

“My mother and I are searching for bigger homes.” Jungkook smiles at your mother. “I would love for you to join us.”

“Kiss ass.” you grumble, taking a whole cookie into your mouth.

“I would love to!” your mother is brought to tears again at how loving and genuine Jungkook was. It’s as if she couldn’t believe it. “Have we thought of names-”

“We don’t even know the gender.” you shake your head.

“I,” Jungkook places a hand on his chest. “want a girl.” he admits.

Your mother again sobs - because men typically wanted boys. You roll your eyes right out of your head at how dramatic she was being.

Fuck Jeon Jungkook for having your mother love him harder.

“That was easier than I expected.”

After dinner with your family - where your mother dramatically shared the news of your pregnancy - you and Jungkook returned back home. It felt, dare you say, great not holding in such a secret any longer. Especially since you didn’t feel disappointed.

You always envisioned yourself having a steady career after college and if you found the right person, then marriage. You didn’t like to look too far into the future and think of children, but you suppose now you had to.

“You and your mom are so much alike.” Jungkook chuckles, his hands rubbing along your back. “So emotional at times.”

“Fuck off.”

Jungkook only grins wider, massaging your lower back. He does this every night now, even lighting candles to further relax you. He makes it harder to not depend on him - and that's exactly what he wants.

“Have you thought about what I said?” Jungkook questions. “About working?”

You sigh, your eyes closing. 

“I have.” you murmur. “...you aren’t going to stop pestering me about it.”

“Of course not, baby. You can’t work while pregnant.” Jungkook scoffs. “The man is supposed to provide.”

“It’s the 21st century.” you find your lips curving into a soft smile at his words - fuck Jeon Jungkook for feeling this way. “What if I get bored?”

“You wouldn’t. You’re always sleeping or eating nowadays.”

Your eyes snap open and you furrow a brow.

“Besides, we need to prepare for the baby.” Jungkook’s hands curved on your neck, rubbing his thumbs into it. You sigh low. “Buy baby clothes…furniture.”

You hum, nodding your head slowly. You’ve come across a few baby items that cause your heart to jolt at how adorable they were. You could just imagine decorating the nursery for the baby alongside Jungkook, clothing the baby in little clothes. Getting to see Jungkook hold the baby in his arms similarly to the way he holds your nephew.

Jungkook leans away as you turn to lay on your back. Your eyes flutter open to look at Jungkook. He tilts his head. “Are you okay?”

You nod your head, hand reaching out to touch Jungkook’s. His fingers entangle with yours. “It feels…weird.” you confess. “Being pregnant…we’ll actually be parents soon.”

Jungkook brings your hand to his lips and presses light kisses. 

“I’m happy.” Jungkook admits, though the both of you knew this. “It’s sudden. But…I’m happy.”

Your heart flutters and you lick your lips. “I’m happy, too.” you whisper. “You’ll be a good dad.”

Jungkook’s eyes slightly widen at your words and his heart flutters. Jungkook deepens the kiss on your hand. “You think so?” he murmurs, lowering himself to face you. His breath tickles your skin.

“Yeah.” you nod. Your hand untangles from his and you place it onto your cheek. Your thumb traces his lips - moments like this wasn’t rare anymore. You were more loving to Jungkook now, especially seeing how he was. You’re reminded constantly how good Jungkook treats you and there wasn’t a reason to (pretend) not to like him or his actions.

“You’ll be so good to us.”

You connect your lips to his, hand on his cheek now clasping on his shirt to bring him closer. Your legs wrap around his waist to cage him in.

Jungkook moans into the kiss, cupping your naked thigh, shorts riding up your upper thigh. 

“You’re just trying to make me feel good.” Jungkook snickers.

You hum, connecting your lips to his again, pecking gently. “I want you to fuck me.” you murmur against his lips, going to remove your shorts in a rush.

Jungkook chuckles, licking his lips. “Of course you do.” he states, voice deeper. He wasn’t opposed to this, however. He wanted you whenever you wanted him.

“Don’t act like you don’t want me either.” you manage to get out of your shorts, panties sticking to you.

“I always want you.” Jungkook rushes to do the same, removing his sweatpants. His cock throbs at just the thought of being inside of you. “This is why you’re pregnant now.” his hands go to tug at your panties, fingers forcing their way past them to touch at your clit. “Wanna taste you…”

“No.” you say, pushing him away. “I’m too impatient for that.”

You just needed Jungkook inside of you, no foreplay needed - for now. You push your panties off and swing your leg over to get atop of him.

“Fuck - okay.” Jungkook doesn’t need to be told twice. He loved foreplay with you - you on his tongue or his fingers deep inside of you. He loved it all.

Your hand reaches back to grasp his cock, centering it at your entrance. You bite your lip, fluttering your eyes to look directly into Jungkook’s ones.

You enter his cock slowly, your lips parting to release a moan.

Jungkook pushes his head deeper against his pillows, his hands placed on your hips as you begin to buckle them. “You’re so beautiful…”

“I barely did anything yet and you’re already simping.”

It’s flattering, however, that it doesn’t take long for Jungkook to indeed simp for you. 

You sit on Jungkooks cock fully and shudder. The hair on your skin rises at how full you feel with him inside of you. It’s a feeling that isn’t foreign, yet a sensation that you could never get enough of.

You don’t bother to waste any time, immediately going to buckle your hips in a rhythmic motion that has the man groaning beneath you. You rarely were the one in control, but when you were it always drove Jungkook crazy. Maybe he was just obsessed with you as you said.

You lean back, head pushed back and your eyes closed with your hands begin to roam his chest. To Jungkook, you were beautiful like an angel who’s light is shining brightly down at you. He just knows the way you fuck yourself against his cock that it feels good to you. Your pussy is squelching and your moans only grow louder and louder by the second.

“You’re getting tired.” Jungkook notes, instantly thrusting upwards to meet you halfway. “I can take over.”

You don’t fight him - you never did. However, Jungkook doesn’t move from his position and instead continues to ram into you, his nails digging into your skin. 

“It’s…so deep.” you groan, your head hanging. 

Stamina unmatched, Jungkook's hips never halter. His eyes are unblinking, as well, watching every reaction this caused. 

Jungkook leans forward to wrap both arms around your body protectively, continuing his brutal pounding. His lips leave wet kisses upon your skin, a need to taste you like he always does - but he understands you need to cum now.

“You look so pretty on my cock. Like always…”

Maybe it’s the pregnancy that allows you to have this new found glow to you - that or his mind was playing tricks on him. Regardless, he wants nothing more than to cum deep inside of you like the both of you desire. 

“I know you’re going to cum…” Jungkook continues, this time placing his lips onto yours.You two engage into a heated kiss turned makeout session, somehow him never ceasing his thrusts. Your tongue dances with his and all you could truly think about was cumming right now.

“...g…gonna cum…” you say between kisses, your hands tangling into Jungkook’s dark tresses for support and he doesn’t mind in the slightest. “....wanna feel you cum in me.”

Jungkook groans - this is why you are pregnant now, he thinks - such dirty words and needy-like that he cannot help but give you what you want. His tongue licks onto your skin, trailing down your jaw to your neck. His teeth clamp down onto your skin.

You’re cumming as Jungkook’s teeth continue to nip at your skin, eyes fluttering close. Jungkook himself isn’t far behind, sloppy thrusts pounding deep into your wound and echoing off of the wall until he too is cumming hard, milky ropes of cum painting them entirely.

months later….

@minaamhh @suciedad-divina @satisfied18 @y2k5bby @petalsofink @swga-ficrecs @xtrataerrestrial @danielle143 @thelilbutifulthings @jksjx @busanbby-jjk @joonlover1207 @hollowtree11 @amberpanda99 @parkinglot-nights @variety-is-the-joy-of-life @hoseokteardrop @subtaegguk @jingerbreadoutofstock

[steddiealltheway]

It's Cass Day!!!! Happy happy happy happy birthday @henderdads. i love you so so much, and I'm so thankful that you let me plot all my fics and ficlets (including this one ha!) in your dms. (and of course, I'm thankful for you forever and always for everything). I hope you enjoy and have a wonderful birthday :))))

Wednesday afternoons are Steve’s favorite afternoon out of the whole week.

There’s something about pushing a squeaky cart around the local grocery store and making small talk with the Wednesday regulars - a gossipy book club of moms who do their shopping at the same time so they have more time to complain about their husbands - that really fills Steve heart. (Or maybe it’s just the slight bitchy side of him that loves to rag on Elizabeth’s husband Tom who really needs to get his head out of his ass and appreciate the beauty in front of him, and of course he can’t forget Charles, Lisa’s dick of a husband who apparently doesn’t know what a date night is, oh! And Margaret’s husband Al… and really, he could go on about these husbands for hours without getting tired of it)

Really, he loves the routine of it all. And the way the women dote on him for being so kind to his girlfriend back home - which he constantly reminds them is not his girlfriend. But he sometimes wishes the groceries in his cart and the scribbled list in his hand was for someone he could go back home to greet with a kiss. (After giving Robin a hug of course, because in any fantasy, some of those things on that list and in the cart are always going to be for Robin).

But really, it would be nice to have someone to brag about to the group. Maybe bring up their spirits that love is not lost and-

Steve stops in his tracks, all thoughts gone from his head as he does a double take at the magazine rack near the checkout. And yeah, he knows that Corroded Coffin is popular. Hell, he’s seen Eddie’s face on the same rack at least five times before. But never like this.

The picture on the front page is taken at a lower angle, with Eddie clad in leather pants and a tight mesh black shirt that might be a crop top, but Steve can’t tell with the way Eddie’s guitar is covering his midriff, hands flying over the frets, showing off silver rings glimmering under the stage lights including the one that Steve helped Dustin pick out for him as a celebratory gift. But as Steve’s eyes trace over Eddie’s bare arms and the stark black tattoos, he’s led to wild curls perfectly framing Eddie’s face which stares down at the cords, mouth parted in an ‘o’ shape and eyebrows knitted together in concentration in a way that makes Steve feel weak in the knees.

And Steve’s suddenly hit with the question: Why didn’t anyone tell him that Eddie was hot???

He snatches the magazine off the rack before he can even really think about it, and tries not to think of what the moms will say about him when he leaves.

Maybe they’ll stop assuming he has a girlfriend at home at least.

During his drive home, he can’t help but think about the magazine laying between the loaf of bread and carton of ice cream that were packed together by the newest bag boy - which the ladies have a lot to say about, but Steve can’t think of anything besides that damn picture.

Once he’s back at the apartment, he puts the groceries away at an alarmingly fast rate, before making his way to the couch and laying back with the magazine in his hands.

It’s nice to see Eddie on the front cover of a magazine without it being attached to some weird scandal that Eddie had nothing to do with. Usually it’s an ill timed photo because he always happens to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. But this time…

Steve let’s out a deep breath and flips through the magazine, hoping that there’s some type of interview with more pictures that he can secretly stare at and panic about later.

There’s a bunch of boring looking articles and ads until he spots a page with bright red lettering and a number of pictures. Steve can’t help but wet his lips when he opens the page to find a picture of Eddie smiling at something off camera, looking totally different from the front cover. He just looks like… Eddie.

Yet, Steve finds his heart racing even harder at this picture, missing those dimples and that glimmer of mischief in Eddie’s eyes that’s usually directed at him. And Steve suddenly wonders what or who Eddie's looking at, feeling a bloom of jealousy in his chest.

He glances away from the picture and scans the page for another one. He smiles when he sees Eddie with the rest of his band mates, leaning heavily on Jeff while pulling his signature expression, nearly elbowing Jeff in the ribs to do his devil horns.

Steve laughs at Jeff’s face scowling down at him while Gareth and Frank cackle beside them. He wonders when they’ll be back in town.

Wait.

Steve dog ears the page before running up to his calendar where Robin had written “Dustin’s favorite day ever” on the upcoming Friday.

“Oh no,” Steve mutters to himself. That’s way too damn soon for Eddie to come home after Steve’s realization. He needs to give him at least two weeks to panic and process.

Okay, if Eddie was there with him, the panicking and processing would probably happen in two hours- no, minutes- maybe even seconds. But giving Steve two days is not the right amount of time. That’s just enough time for Steve to really start and settle into the panic. But hey, maybe he can dedicate the next twenty-four hours to panicking and the twenty-four hours after that to processing. Right?

Absolutely. He can do this.

-:-:-:-:-:-

"Robin, I can't do this."

Robin rolls her eyes at him. "I can't believe one picture wrecked you."

"It's not my fault! It's the damn photographer and whoever put that picture on the front cover," Steve complains, running a hand through his hair. "They're the ones who made me think of him like that."

"Uh huh."

Steve glances over at Robin who looks completely engrossed in painting her nails a deep purple color that looks black from where Steve is standing. He glances at himself in the mirror, nervously styling his hair before picking up the magazine from where it has made a permanent home on the coffee table. He flops down on the couch next to Robin who yelps and groans, "You made me smudge my nail polish!"

"We have more important things to worry about than the state of your nail polish."

Robin carefully cleans around the edge of her nail, stained with the dark color before turning to Steve. "Yes, the sudden realization that Eddie is hot is very important to me."

"You know what I mean," Steve sighs, leaning back against the couch as he opens the magazine to his favorite picture of Eddie in this edition. He looks at it for a moment, immediately closing it when he realizes he's smiling.

Robin blows on her nails and frowns before glancing back at Steve. "Okay. He's going to be here in less than an hour. How can I help you? Although, I really don't think you'll need my help at all."

"What do you mean?" Steve asks, a pinch forming between his brows.

Robin gives him a look. "You're going to act weird around him. He's going to eventually pick up on it. And then you're going to confess all these feelings you're having and then..." Robin has a sudden look of realization and immediate disappointment. "Then, I'm going to have to find somewhere else to stay tonight since you told Eddie he could stay here on the couch, which is not going to happen after your little confession."

"He's going to leave?" Steve asks quickly in confusion and slight panic.

Robin huffs, "No, he's going to be staying in your bed. And I really do not want to hear that."

Steve frowns. "You don't even know if he thinks I'm hot."

A look passes over Robin's face, first humor, then a bit of confusion, disbelief, and, once again, disappointment. "Steve," she asks, grabbing his hand, eyes staring hard into his. "This whole time you've had the magazine, you never read the interview?" Robin asks as if it's the most important question she's ever asked him.

"Why would I read it?" Steve asks with a shake of his head. When Robin's jaw drops, he gets the sudden message that he is definitely missing something. He snatches up the magazine and flips it open, somehow not getting to the interview right away although he was sure that he opened it to that page so much that it permanently creased the spine.

Just as he gets to it. There's a loud, persistent knock on the door.

Steve's and Robin's eyes meet in a panic. "Hide the magazine," Robin all but hisses as she makes it to the door raising her voice to say, "We have neighbors! Keep it down, dingus!"

Steve looks around, wondering if he can shove the magazine under the couch, but he knows Eddie would somehow see it in his antics. When he spots the stack of magazines on their side table, he rushes to put the magazine right in the middle of them. Hiding in plain sight. Perfect.

He stands up as soon as the door swings open, trying not to look guilty and failing miserably, only to breathe a sigh of relief when he realizes it's only Dustin. "Henderson," he says with a goofy smile launching into their handshake and ending it with a quick laugh, knocking off Dustin's hat to ruffle his hair.

When Dustin starts complaining about his hat being on the floor, Steve bends down to pick it up, only for a pale, ring-clad hand to grab onto it at the same time Steve does.

Steve glances up and locks eyes with Eddie. His heart starts to pound at an alarming rate as he takes in the familiar deep brown irises, moving on to take in the slight blush on Eddie's cheeks alongside a wide smile. "Steeeve Harrington," Eddie drawls out, the way he does when he hasn't seen him in a while.

"Munson," Steve says with a nod, a wide smile tugging at his lips that he tries to push down, as he always does when it comes to Eddie as if pretending not to care. The same way he does when he's trying to get someone to like him...

Oh.

Shit, he doesn't just think he's hot. He likes him. Hell, he's liked him for a long time even. And now he has even less time to panic about that.

Steve glances up, finding that Eddie has stood up, hat still between their hands as he stares down confusedly at Steve. He offers a hand, and Steve takes it, easily being pulled up into his space. He lingers close to Eddie, eyes dipping down to his lips, realizing how much he wants- needs this.

He glances up at Eddie, finding his pupils blown wide and his brow furrowed. And Steve finally feels that electricity that he's been searching months- no, years for.

"Am I getting my hat back?" Dustin asks, clearly annoyed.

Steve and Eddie both shove the hat over at the same time, eyes reluctantly leaving each other, only for Steve to see Robin giving him an unimpressed look. He can practically see her trying to figure out who she's going to call to spend the night with.

Steve glances back at Eddie and rushes out, "It's- uh, good to see you again."

Eddie grabs a strand of hair and pulls it in front of his face, kicking nothing as he says, "You miss me, Steve?"

Steve shakes his head automatically, "No." He turns to Dustin and asks him when the others are getting there, but his question is answered when the door opens behind them again.

"Do you guys knock?" Robin asks, stealing the words out of Steve's mouth.

"Do you guys lock your door?" Mike snarks back.

Steve sighs and moves to Robin's side, watching as the kids all greet Eddie excitedly. "Why don't they greet us like that?" Steve quietly bitches.

"Because we're not famous and gone all the time," Robin answers with a frown. "By the way, tonight is going totally as I planned."

Steve rolls his eyes. "No, it is not. I have been acting completely normally around him."

"Yeah, because you two have the tendency to eye fuck each other for an uncomfortable amount of time." Robin pauses and considers what she said. "Actually, I take that back. You two are acting completely normal."

"Since when do we-"

"Hey," Eddie says, successfully cutting Steve off, "When the pizzas get here, I'm paying."

Robin nudges Steve in the side after a few seconds pass, and Steve can't help but stare at the man instead of processing anything he said. "Hmm?"

"I'm paying for the pizza you all ordered," Eddie says, brows still furrowed. "Are you okay?"

Steve nods and crosses his arms. "Yes, it's just that we didn't order any pizza."

"But Dustin said..." Eddie trails off and glances at the kids. "Those little shits."

"Someone needs to give them a stern talking to."

Eddie raises his brows. "Are you shirking your co-parenting duties while I'm away?"

Steve huffs out a laugh. "Don't worry, I'm keeping your sheep in line."

Eddie offers him a big smile and leans in to say, "Sorry, I can't be here often, sweetheart."

Steve shoves him away with a roll of his eyes, ignoring the way his heart flutters at the nickname. "Go do your part and entertain them."

"And pay for the food!" Eddie reminds him yet again, walking toward the group, eyes not leaving Steve.

"My hero," Steve says, taking a page from Eddie's book of dramatics by crossing his hands over his heart and fluttering his lashes.

Eddie stops in his tracks, looking over him before shaking his head and going to the table where everyone is setting up.

"That was painful to witness," Robin says, scaring the shit out of Steve. She crosses her arms. "Did you really forget I was here?" When Steve doesn't respond, she walks away, muttering, "Unbelievable."

Steve runs a hand through his hair, willing his heart to slow down before he has to sit through this long-ass campaign - that he secretly really enjoys, but no one except Robin will ever know.

-:-:-:-:-:-

A few hours later, Steve finds himself giving the kids hugs as they rush out his door, nearly missing their curfew. When they make their way to Eddie, he whispers to Robin, "See, the night didn't go as planned at all."

Robin raises her eyebrows at him and whispers back, "Yeah, you're not going to act weird at all when you two are alone."

Steve gives her a panicked look. "What do you mean- you're not leaving are you?"

Robin throws her hands up in a shrug as she backs up into her room, leaving the door open as she very obviously packs an overnight bag. Steve wonders if there is any way to stop her without alerting Eddie.

"What's Buckley doing?" Eddie asks, startling Steve. Eddie reaches out and lays a hand on his shoulder. "Are you okay? You've been on edge all night."

Steve nods automatically. "Yeah, I'm fine." And yeah, he is fine. And he has not been on edge at all because that would mean that Robin is right.

Speak of the devil... "I'm heading out tonight! You two have fun," Robin says with a salute. "I'll see you tomorrow." Before Steve or Eddie can stop her, she's already out the door, leaving them entirely alone. Steve doesn't even remember when the kids all left.

"I'm guessing you know what that's about," Eddie says, eyebrows disappearing under his bangs as he stares at the door.

"No idea," Steve replies, making his way back to the dining area to clean up the remaining mess the teens made, and really he was going to have to give them another lecture about cleaning up after themselves.

"Steve," Eddie says softly.

Steve hums in response but doesn't dare to look his way as he stacks up various empty plastic cups.

"Steve," Eddie tries again.

And Steve knows that tone. Knows that if he fully engages, Eddie will want to have a serious conversation which is not something they often do. So he just keeps cleaning until there's nothing left to do except brush imaginary crumbs off the table.

"Steve," Eddie says, voice impossibly close to him.

Steve takes a deep breath and turns to him, heart skipping a beat when he finds Eddie hovering in his space.

"What's going on?" Eddie asks gently.

Steve shakes his head and runs a hand through his hair. "Nothing." He quickly moves away from Eddie, grabbing a napkin off one of the kitchen counters and tossing it into the trash on his way to the living room.

"Why are you acting weird?"

"I'm not," Steve says, resting his hands on his hips in the same way he does when the kids start to annoy him.

Eddie raises his eyebrows and crosses his arms, staring but not saying anything.

Steve stares back, jutting his hip out in a show of how adamant he is about his answer.

After a few tense seconds pass by, Eddie slowly walks closer to him, and Steve fights for his eyes to not flicker down to his lips. When Eddie is within arms reach, he leans forward. "Steve, what is wrong?"

Steve shrugs nonchalantly, but his eyes betray him and flicker to the stack of magazines beside the couch. He tries to keep his features carefully blank, but he sees the moment Eddie realizes there is something significant about that glance.

Before Steve can stop him, Eddie is diving down to the magazines, snatching up the whole stack in his arms. Steve moves forward to grab them, only to realize his error when Eddie scoots back and smiles wildly. "This is it, isn't it? What, did you hide a filthy magazine inside here or something?"

"Eddie..." Steve warns, standing above him, hands still on his hips.

Eddie smiles before turning his eyes to the stack and leafing through them. Steve moves down quickly, knocking the magazines out of his hands as he practically straddles Eddie. He stares down at him, eyes wide, about to move back when he notices Eddie's eyes resting on his stomach.

Steve glances down between them only to see the image of Eddie on the front cover staring back at him.

"Shit, I didn't know they released that yet," Eddie says, laying fully back, hands dragging over his face. He lets them rest there before spreading his fingers to ask, "You read the interview, didn't you?"

"No," Steve says honestly.

Eddie frowns and props himself up on his elbows. "When did you get this?"

"Wednesday." And curse his damn mouth for rambling without his permission.

"You got this two days ago but haven't read the interview?" Eddie's expression shifts from fearful to cocky. "Steve Harrington, did you buy this just to stare at me?"

"No," Steve says, crossing his arms.

Eddie sits up fully, and Steve becomes very aware of the way he's still sitting on top of Eddie's thighs. "Did you get all flustered about this?" Eddie asks, holding up the magazine teasingly.

Steve's eyes flicker to the front cover again, and his lips suddenly feel very dry. His tongue darts out to wet his lips. He glances back at Eddie and shrugs. "You look fine."

"Has anyone ever told you you're a bad liar?"

"Has anyone ever told you you need to get your ego in check?"

Eddie smirks at him. "Why would I need to do that when I know Steeeeve Harrington bought the magazine with my face on it?"

"Stop saying my name like that," Steve says, leaning forward trying to be menacing, but only satisfying Eddie by getting closer to him.

"Why? Steeev-" Eddie's cut off when Steve suddenly moves forward and kisses him, hands flying up into his curls to pull him closer.

Steve stills before pulling back, searching Eddie's eyes.

"You...?" Eddie asks before raking a hand through his hair. "You actually bought it to stare at me?"

Steve rolls his eyes. "You already knew that since I'm 'such a bad liar,'" Steve says adding air quotes.

"I was hoping you were. Christ, Steve, this?" Eddie asks, holding up the magazine.

Steve runs a hand through his hair. "You look hot!"

"Christ," Eddie says again, this time dropping the magazine to pull Steve into another kiss. He breaks it to mumble, "I can't believe you haven't read the damn interview." His hands run through Steve's hair messing up the strands before he pulls back suddenly. "Wait."

"Yeah?" Steve asks as Eddie's eyes practically glaze over in panic.

Eddie's chest heaves for a second before he says, "Fuck, you bought it because you thought I'm hot not because... fuck." He looks away from Steve and stares down at the magazine as if it personally offended him.

"Huh?" Steve asks, knees starting to ache on the hardwood floor. He climbs off of Eddie with a groan, but Eddie must take it wrong because he almost immediately stands up.

"Sorry, it's stupid," Eddie says with a humorless laugh. "Hey, do you think Buckley will be upset if I take her bed for the night? It's been a long day, and I'm about ready to clonk out."

Steve can feel his face morph into an expression of bewilderment. "Eddie, what?"

Eddie shakes his head. "Yeah, you're right. Dumb idea. Robin would kill me. I'll take the couch like usual."

Steve carefully stands and steps into Eddie's space, but Eddie sidesteps him easily. He watches as he flops down on the couch, refusing to look at him.

Steve's eyes settle back on the magazine, reaching down to grab it to find whatever the hell is in that interview.

"Steve, please don't."

Steve ignores Eddie the same way he ignored him, opening the magazine to the same page his eyes have landed on several times before. His eyes settle on the image of Eddie before moving to the words, skimming before he finds his own name staring back at him. He backtracks, looking at the question and answer.

Do you guys have any sources of inspiration?

Jeff: Oh, Eddie sure does.

Frank: He has what you might call a muse back at home.

Eddie: Please shut up.

Gareth: A beautiful muse with the most beautiful hair you've ever seen.

Eddie: Please stop talking about Stevie.

Jeff: He's just shy when it comes to his little crush.

Eddie: Next question, please.

Steve glances up at Eddie who sits red-faced on the couch. He clears his throat. "They told me they would cut it out entirely, but then they reached out later saying it was too good not to publish, but they did me the favor of changing your name to something more feminine so they didn't out me. Still fucked though. I'm sorry you got pulled into this mess."

Steve looks back at the magazine and then at Eddie. "Is it true?"

Eddie groans and lays back on the couch dramatically. "Please don't make me answer that. I've gotten enough shit from the guys, and I know you don't feel that way about me. It's okay that you only find me hot, I'll take what I can."

It hits Steve all at once what Eddie's sudden dramatics are about. "Oh my god. Eddie, I like you, too!"

Eddie's head pops up. "What?"

Steve turns the magazine to him and points at the picture of Eddie laughing. "This is what I've been so flustered and weird about. Yes, the front cover made me realize that, hey, I find you really attractive. But I've been staring at this picture for way longer, and I didn't know why until you got here tonight. And it hit me that I like you. I think I have for a long time, but I just didn't connect the dots before."

"You like me?" Eddie echos, dumbfounded.

Steve laughs. "Yes, I wouldn't have kissed you if I didn't have feelings for you."

"That's a fucking relief," Eddie says, scrambling off the couch and racing to pull Steve into another kiss.

Steve smiles into the kiss, pulling Eddie as close to him as possible as Eddie attempts to do the same.

"I'm going to give that photographer the biggest tip ever," Eddie says breaking the kiss for a moment only to kiss him again.

Steve smiles so wide that he can barely kiss Eddie back. When they break away, Steve says, "I'm going to have to buy another."

"Why?"

"I have to get the front picture and the interview framed," Steve says as if it's the most obvious thing in the world.

"Of course," Eddie says with a laugh before wrapping his arms around Steve and pulling him in close. "I missed you so much."

"I missed you, too," Steve replies.

They hold each other for a while, not willing to break the moment until a sudden thought has Steve groaning.

"What?" Eddie asks, pulling back to look at him.

"Robin was right."

Eddie smiles. "When is she not?"

"Never," Steve answers simply.

They stand in each other's arms just happy to be so close, taking each other in as if it's for the first time. Steve wonders what to tell the Wednesday regulars and how they'd respond if he introduced Eddie to them. He thinks back to Lisa's comments about how the group should just date each other and how Sarah had responded with a little too much enthusiasm, and Steve thinks things will be just fine.

"What are you thinking about?"

Steve shakes his head with a smile. "What are you doing this Wednesday?" he asks, making a mental note to add two frames, another magazine, and Robin's favorite ice cream to the list.

"Anything you want," Eddie replies easily.

And with that, Steve finds himself looking forward to his Wednesday afternoon even more than usual.

[noyzinerd]

Derek's Journey Into House Husbandry

Listen, Derek's inheritance was $117 million, same as Peter's. Derek's childhood was spent in a multimillion dollar mansion, with his multimillion dollar family, and he's had an affinity for expensive muscle cars. Then, all the places he lived in after the fire were decrepit safety hazards.

What I'm saying is this boy was a pampered little rich kid for most of his life before living as a hobo for the rest of it.

I like to think that for the first few months of Stiles and Derek living together, Stiles learns very quickly that Derek isn't exactly well-acquainted with "middle-class living".

Just imagine:

When Stiles gets home from work, he asks if Derek could start boiling two cups of water so that Stiles can make rice for dinner after he takes a shower. To which, Derek says "Um...sure."

However, once Stiles finishes and comes to the kitchen, he's met with this:

So, okay, that's on Stiles. Sure, he noticed Derek ordered food a lot and ate out constantly, but it had never occurred to him that he was literally living on takeout because he could afford to. The only reason he wasn't right now was because Stiles had cracked down on takeout (Stiles still had to stay relatively healthy for his job, afterall).

Unfortunately for Stiles, this isn't a one off.

When it's time to tidy up the place a little bit, Stiles tells Derek that he'll vacuum the carpet if Derek will sweep the hardwood.

Unbeknownst to Stiles, Derek hasn't ever needed to sweep before. So, about a half hour later, Stiles checks in, and Derek is just-

sweeping side-to-side, kicking up dust in the air and just spreading it to different areas of the room like a cartoon character because he doesn't know that you're supposed to use the broom to gather the dust into a centralized area (the dust pan) to be thrown away.

But Stiles doesn't have it in him to find it anything other than endearing. It's hard not to when Derek is so fucking earnest. He wants to be helpful. He wants to know how to take care of a house of his very own. Fortunately, Derek's eager to learn and a very quick study.

He learns that dish soap does NOT go in the dishwasher. He learns about the difference between laundry detergent and fabric softener, about emptying the lint trap, about changing the A/C filter, about ironing, about all the vacuum attachments and how to change the bag.

And every time Derek succeeds a little bit at adulting, Stiles sees this spark of joy and sense of accomplishment that is absolutely adorable.

It's not long before Derek takes to being a house husband like a fish to water. Which, honestly? Suits him. It isn't unusual nowadays to find Derek baking bread and watching telenovelas while Stiles is at work, or comparing cantaloupes at the grocery store in a cable knit cardigan and sweat pants.

Watching Derek do a little fist pump to himself every time he earns gas points on his rewards card at the grocery store makes Stiles want to melt into the floor.

[p0ssywhippedcream]

Zuko has been with the gang for a while now and you've been able to teach him how to do most any chore. He can set up tents, bathe Appa and even dry clothes off without lighting them on fire (it happened a couple times tho). But the one thing he just can't get is cooking.

He stands beside you as you lower a pot over the fire gently, his eyebrows knitted. He watches as you angle it so there's no chance of it falling as it small bubbles appear; signaling its commence of boiling. You sit down on a flat stone and take out a small knife, gesturing a c'mere motion with the blade.

"Can you hand me the tomatoes?" He grabs them and passes them over, ears flushing when your hand brushes his.

"You're going to boil them?" You giggle and shake your head.

"No, this is for the broth and the beef. Everybody has been craving it but Aang is a vegetarian, remember?"

He nods and pops a squat next to you on a large rock. Your ankles touch and his toes flex. "You're making him something separate." You agreed with a hum and begin to slice the fruit over a bowl in your lap.

"That's nice of you." You glance up briefly and give him a sheepish grin. He finds it endearing.

As you focus your attention back to the task at hand, Zuko wonders what he should say next. Before he can really consider it, you toss a piece of tomato at Momo and ask, "Your uncle makes tea right?"

"Uh, yeah. Uncle loves tea."

"How come you haven't learned how to?"

He doesn't want to admit that he didn't pay attention when he should've, when he had time to notice how Iroh did it. "I wasn't taught."

"Do you want me to teach you?" You look up and pause your slicing. The bowl has a small stack of tomato piled inside that tumbles when you shake it.

"I'm not very good at uh.. making things." You snicker, remembering when he burned lettuce a couple weeks ago.

"Yeah, I noticed," You smile to let him know you're teasing and he returns it a little shyer. "I could, though. Teach you. You don't have to be good at it."

"What's the point of teaching me if I'm not good at it?"

"I like spending time with you." You shrug and reach for an avocado across him. Your arm is just too short and he takes the opportunity to grab it for you, turning his head so you don't see his blush. "And you'd get the hang of it, tea is like.. your birthright."

Zuko chuckles. He always thought his birthright was violence. He wonders if it still is. He doesn't say that. "Because Uncle owned a tea shop?"

"Yeah," You laugh, "And you can use your fire bending, yunno? But I'm not sure if you have the patience for it."

"Why's that?" Suddenly Sokka is next to him, holding a pile of sticks and asking you where you want them. You point next to the fire and notice the water jumping in the pot. Standing up, you motion for the broth ingredients and Zuko hands you the pre-mixed bowl. Sokka is quickly distracted by Toph demanding to know where Aang went and Zuko turns back to you.

The crackle of the fire comforts the atmosphere as the sun sets, giving your face an orange hue that dances dramatically from your chin to your nose. You tuck a piece of hair away and Zuko can see the way your eyes glitter in the soft glow, your pupils swallowing the color of their rims.

It's silent for a bit, Zuko simply watching as you stir the pot and occasionally call out for Sokka and Toph to stop arguing. You set down the ladle and pick up a bowl of assorted vegetables and fruits, passing it to Zuko.

"Can you find that bread from the village? I think it's in Katara's bag?" He disappears to rummage and returns holding a half-eaten loaf.

"Okay, that should be enough," You remark as you turn away from cooking and towards his returning figure. You make eye contact with him and your nose wrinkles in the moonlight as you smile, "Can you cut that in half and make a sandwich?"

He sits down and follows your instructions, first wiping the knife you'd used earlier before slipping it in the loaf and beginning to separate it. His dominant hand slices down as he keeps it steady in the other and as he gets to the end, he takes his chance to look at you.

Your feet are bare on the ground, a little dirty and as you shift from side to side, your heels lift enough he can see your bridges. A daffodil is stuck to the bottom of your left foot, staring at him before being engulfed in a step again. You move around the pot, pushing the ingredients stuck to the side back in the middle and the flower is left upside down on a rock.

His finger burns in pain and he notices a small cut. He had finished slicing the bread and had dug into his hand. Cursing, he sets aside your assignment and stands up holding his hand as blood flows slowly. You notice immediately and rush over. You bend down and rip a bit of your skirt, wrapping it around his hand and shushing him back down onto the rock again.

"It's not too deep, you should be okay." He nods, hissing as the fabric rubs the sensitive flesh. "It hurts?"

"Yeah." You press his hand towards you, checking it again and clutching it from the palm.

"You can go back to cooking." You look up at him confused and he continues, "It might burn."

"It's fine, it needs to marinate. You need my attention more."

The firelight covers the furious burning of his face, "Are you sure? It's a small cut."

Your expression is hard to see in the dark but the coy fluttering of your features is obvious enough. You're nervous, and a shade darker on your cheeks and oh, you're blushing too.

"I care about you." You murmur and it's a blessing he hears it.

"I- I care about you too," He offers, the urge to look away would be worse if you weren't already doing that. He watches the twitch of your nose as your smile takes your lips again. You meet his gaze and he realizes how close you are. He feels your hot breath on his face and leans in just a bit more. "You look really... really pretty."

Your eyes crinkle in the corners as your mouth spreads wider and reveals your teeth, dimples making his heart flutter as he confesses, "You're glowing. The- the fire makes you glow."

You digest his words with a gentle laugh covered by your hand. "Yeah," You pause and quirk your head to the side, "You do."

He wants to faint and of course he doesn't know what to say. You help him out again and suddenly your nose is brushing his. "You like me?"

He nods because he's not sure he can speak without squeaking.

"I like you too.." Your words are felt on his lips as you get even closer. Your eyes dart across his face, seemingly checking for affirmation before your mouth is on his and all the blood rushes to his head. His hand comes up to hold your head as he kisses you back. For a second, it's so amazing as you lick across his bottom lip until pain is shooting up his hand and he has to pull away.

Your hair had brushed his still open cut and he cradled his hand a little closer to himself as you re-examine it. "Sorry.."

Zuko looks at you like you're crazy, "Don't be sorry."

You glance up and away, still flustered.

"I've liked you for so long," His admission fills the night wind and you prompt him to continue with wide eyes. He's a little quieter as he finishes with, "Since Ba Sing Se."

He misses your voice dearly as he waits for your answer. He gets it in the form of giggles ticklish as butterflies. He watches you with curiosity until you say, "I was wrong, you are patient."

He laughs too now and you both shake beside the fire with hands holding bellies. The spurt of broth leaping out of the pot brings you back and you scramble up to stir it. Zuko watches as you step over the daffodil again and it flips upright, showing him that it was two, smushed so closely it looked like one. He looks up at you in admiration as you taste the stew and feels a surge of affection for whatever luck landed him at your side tonight.

"You were wrong too," His face contorts in confusion and you elaborate, "You're good at making things... you made me like you."

He's the luckiest guy in the fire nation. He goes to tell you but you speak first. "And I want to teach you how to make tea, but I think I should let Iroh. When we find him."

Zuko's left with a mouth hanging open and a heart stuck between missing his Uncle and loving you for all your kindness and thoughtful nature. He settles on both. "I don't know if he'll forgive me."

You make a strange face as you gaze at him over the open flame, it looks intense in the orange heat. "You don't give his love for you enough credit."

Then you're coming over and pecking him on the cheek, making him dizzy again. You bring your lips to his ear and whisper "I think he'll do anything if you let him teach you to make tea."

His smile is warm and flustered when you teasingly add, "I would, and I like you a little bit less than he does."

[heabitfruity]

Silly Hobbies: Primarch Edition

Apparently I wrote too much according to tumblr, so I'm sorry if it's choppy :[

Lion El'Johnson - He actually really loves analyzing "literature"; but not normal literature like Shakespeare or Kafka. He likes analyzing things like The U.S Constitution and The Treaty of Versailles. He does this because he thinks it will help him diplomatically (it doesn't, nobody gets why he does it otherwise, not even his sons).

Fulgrim - This man knows how to dance to every K-Pop song known to man. He can throw it back to "Baby Got Back" and has tried to teach Sanguinius and Ferrus Manus how (It didn't go well, Ferrus threw his back out ). This man knows the exact choreography to "Womanizer", "Nude" and so many other songs.

Perturabo - He likes making useless contraptions; like infomercial level sort of inventions. He has invented bread-dogs, a time-machine to go back exactly two seconds for each use, a voice-recording recorder, etc. He uses Dorn to test it out, despite their... feelings for one another. He knows that Dorn will give him a blunt answer; even if he is told that the invention is "stupid".

Jaghatai Khan - He's really good at acrobatics, specifically everything with the asymmetrical bars; this man could easily escape a pack of dogs with a pen in his pocket (If anyone gets this reference I will be so proud). He attempted to teach Angron how to do the basics, but it didn't go that well; the man is just simply not flexible enough yet.

Leman Russ - This is a secret that he will take to his grave because he suffers from major internal misogyny. He knows how to knit, and he's REALLY good. He grew up on a planet that is 75% of the time below zero, of course the second he got ahold of yarn and wool he got to making warm things for his marine-sons! However, he plays it off as things like: "the citizens of Fenris have donated these for our cause".

Rogal Dorn - He likes making massive forts, societies and various massive structures in Minecraft, with Legos, Lincoln Logs, and those small, ceramic Christmas towns. They're usually quite extensive, but not extravagant. He will pester Perturabo and Magnus to look at them, and this often leads to debates about how these civilizations would function.

Konrad Curze - He teaches cooking classes; however, they are not pleasant. At the end of meal prep, all students are covered in blood due to Konrad butchering whatever protein they had prepared. The food actually tastes amazing, however the process of making it is certainly a battle within itself. Sevatar is his sous chef, which means he frequently has to do most of the work that isn't butchering.

Sanguinius - Honestly, animal rehabilitation. I know this sounds absolutely odd, but due to him having wings, he has to know how to keep a healthy batch of feathers! He's excellent at bird handling, and actually really enjoys it. He's saved at least 54 birds (he doesn't get to find many, his sons typically try to steer him away).

Ferrus Manus - Dude actually makes some really mean jewelry; like the man makes the permanent ankle chains, ring engravements, earrings (with the help of Fulgrim). He's made a lot for his brothers like Leman, Fulgrim, Magnus, and the Khan. They're all very appreciative (though Ferrus has to make Leman a special mixture so he doesn't chew through it by accident).

Angron - He does extreme sports! It helps focus on something that doesn't direct his anger at things that he doesn't need to focus on. It's somewhat funny to think of him riding a BMX, but his absolute favorite is bungee-jumping! He has forced demanded that his sons and brothers try it to "toughen them up". However, nobody except Konrad wanted to. (They both had a great time! One of the few times they've actually bonded over anything.)

Guilliman - He enjoys grading papers... He enjoys signing up to grade the essays of AP classes on Terra and does it every year if he has the time. He takes the pleasure of learning things about literary merit from other people's perspectives, and every time it makes him consider becoming a professor (even though it would be highly impractical).

Mortarion - He enjoys escape rooms, especially with Konrad and Horus. They actually usually have a great time, though sometimes they have to stop Konrad from digging into the walls. He actually commissioned Perturabo to make an elaborate escape room with hatches and secret pathways all around a set of shipping containers. It was so fun that he actually decided to keep it. (He still discovers new routes and puzzles in it every time he goes in.)

Magnus the Red - He plays Dungeons and Dragons with Khan, Guilliman, Perturabo and Alpharius and Omegon. He ALWAYS is the Dungeon Master, no matter what. This is not because he is selfish and possessive (he is a little), but because nobody in the group can seem to maintain a regular gaming schedule. They have simply resorted to Magnus being the godly controller of their games.

Horus Lupercal - This man fishes. I'm sorry, he does the straight, white man fishing and poses. He takes pictures of the fish with the awkward raised arm but genuine smile. He sometimes gives the fish to Konrad, however, less so after finding out from his students what happens during his classes.

Lorgar Aurelian - He writes fanfiction. He likes to show Magnus and Horus his angsty stuff. This stuff is even enough to make Magnus cry a little. Lorgar, however, also writes smut. I believe that this man has never had the intimate touch of any person. Not because he's celibate, but because he's a bitch. The smut's written like in the early days of Wattpad. It's disastrously bad (Think "his meat-cicle entered her mound"). Leman found it one time, he tormented Lorgar for weeks with it.

Vulkan - He bakes! He has learned all the favorite sweets of all of his brothers, making sure to surprise them occasionally whenever they haven't spoken in a while. He loves it whenever there are big events, gives him a chance to see all of his brothers and see them enjoy his work. (There have been some small altercations due to people hoarding food)

Corvus - He likes fashion; but not in a New York fashion week way, more of an Edna from The Incredibles way. He uses the help of Ferrus and Leman to help sew cloaks, shape up boots, and they use Sanguinius and Fulgrim to model it to make sure it looks good and it works.

Alpharius Omegon - They like mimicking their brothers as much as possible; in a "try to look exactly like them" way. It is actually really impressive, even going past the uncanny valley vibe. This led to Mortarion walking in on two versions of himself standing at his bedroom door and it made him piss his pants; and nobody believed him when he told the rest of them.

[notthecutesttrash]

Mascara and Tears

Content: You’ve escaped him before, and this time you’ve made a life for yourself. You decide one day to go out with another man and risk him finding you.

Warnings: 18+ Dark bloodlust Gojo, kidnapping, death, blood, implied noncon, yandere stuff you know.

Word Count: 2.5k

It’s been months after the first escape attempt. 

Gojo had been on a mission and left his door barely locked, it was enough for you to devise a plan to make a run for it. 

You were caught in half an hour. 

It’s been weeks after your second. 

You managed to drug him when he least expected it, leaving you to escape as quietly as possible. 

This time, you left no trace. This time, you’d be happy.

You’ve studied him well enough to know that he was capable of finding you. But he hasn’t, so you know you’ve done a good job. Still, you find yourself terrified even in the cold nights. Occasionally you’re overcome by fear and restlessness as paranoia surges through your mind. 

You’re angrily pressing your fingers into dough before your coworker Andy pats your back and saves you from the contemplation. “Treat the dough with a little respect (Y/n), it’s your friend, not an enemy,” he jokes and you force a small chuckle. 

“Sorry, just got too into it.” 

He laughs in response and begins to knead at one of his pieces. “I get it, sometimes it’s fun to play with and throw around. You can make some pizzas, bread, or sweets. You can do anything with dough, and that’s the beauty." He’s nearly beaming at you, and you're stifling a chortle, breaking out with a “nerd.” 

“Hey!” He points accusingly and you snicker. 

When a comfy silence erupts and you’re both drawn into your work, after a few minutes, Andy clears his throat. “So, (Y/n).”

You turn to him, and there’s a small blush on his cheeks. Your heart drops a little, and you’re begging silently. Please don’t say it.

“Do you maybe want to get drinks after this shift?” 

He said it. 

Inwardly sighing, you squint your eyes as if lost in thought and he stammers. “I mean, I know you always have a busy schedule, but I just thought- I don’t know, it’d be nice to get your mind away from things for a change. You always look so tense.” 

No matter how many times he or your other coworkers would ask, you were always busy. One day your sister had to be picked up, you had to run to the hospital, or your dog needed walking. Meanwhile, in reality, you’d sit at home and cradle yourself in fear. Sure that the one moment you're caught off guard, you'd find Gojo sitting quietly in your room with the lights off, ready to take you just like the last time.

Humming in response, you agree, you are always tense. 

Maybe just one day of going out would do you good. He wasn’t bound to find you just from a chat at the bar right? There’s only so much sitting and moping around in lonely shivers that you can partake in.

Besides, if you’re actually free now, you can finally have friends. People to make you happy, to have conversations with, and to freely walk around with wherever you want. Rather than just being kept in a locked room that was no bigger than a dozen feet across. 

Maybe if he finds you again, you’d at least be happy with just having this bit of freedom. 

Shaking yourself out of the thoughts, your brows knit together angrily. You’re not going to let that happen. 

Turning to Andy, you give him a reassuring smile. “Yeah, that’d be fine.” He gasps and practically bounces in the joy that he attempts to so poorly conceal. 

He works with the dough a little less focused now as the grin stays glued to his face. “Awesome, so there’s this place around town that just opened up, heard it’s fancy though, don’t know if you want to go there.” 

You shrug. Truthfully because you never went anywhere or did anything you had a bit of spare money saved up. You didn’t mind splurging for today.

But what if Gojo finds your records? What if somehow has your bank account information? Or finds you had gone there with another man? 

“(Y/n)?” Andy calls out when you don’t answer.

“No no,  I don’t mind, sounds great. But don’t know if we’re really well equipped for that after work.” Gesturing to your clothes filled with baking powder, Andy glances to his own and shares a laugh. 

“You’re right.” A blush scatters to his face again and you’re exhaling a small sigh. 

“I guess I can pick you up after..?” He trails off expectantly, his hand brushing against his neck as he timidly averts away. If only Gojo hadn’t ever been involved, then you’d think about having a possible romance.

“Sure.” 

You press your hands into the substance for what feels like hours until your wrist feels like it’s going to fall off. And when you go home, you’re holding your breath, a stammering in your chest as you walk through the door. Your first instinct is to always immediately click the lights and when you'd notice nothing, you'll slump in great relief. 

You refuse to allow the thoughts of this kidnapper to ruin your day out. You’re free now, that’s all there is to it, and you dress yourself up real pretty to prove that. Even having the liberty to apply makeup which you’ve never done for Gojo. 

Not even if he tortured you and rubbed the bottom of your lip, declaring just how pretty you’d be if they were stained red just for him to ruin. Even if he forced you on your knees and implied just how much he’d love it if he could see the mascara rolling down your cheeks while you cried. 

This time, you were going to be beautiful to no one else's enjoyment but yourself.

Andy had been patiently waiting and when you stepped out his heart sped into his throat. You smile at him and his skin burns red. 

“Now I almost feel a little underdressed,” he mumbles awkwardly glancing down at his attire. 

“Don’t worry, you look fine. Anything’s better than the baking powder.” Sharing a giggle, you two begin walking, the clack of your heels echoing against the sidewalk.

Andy is continuously glimpsing to you, then at the ground. His bottom lip draws into his mouth. “You look.. amazing by the way,” he finally breaks the silence, and you turn to him, gleaming.  

“Thanks.”

He gazes at you too long, gawking in amazement, and you lightly poke him out of the concentration. “Relax, I’m not that good-looking.” You joke, and he instantly shakes his head. 

“That’s not true (Y/n), seriously, you are.. you’re beautiful.” 

It's been awhile since you had a genuine compliment that wasn't so creepy sounding.

You would’ve rolled your eyes at the twinkling in his orbs. But this time you’re flattered and a light pink forms.

“Thanks.. I don’t typically get pretty for events or anything… I don’t really go out in general.” 

“Why not?” He’s quick to ask, brows knitting in worry. 

You cuss beneath your breath. Too much oversharing. Not talking to a person in a while will do that to you.

“Nothing- I just don’t like to. More of an.. inside person I guess.” Your eyes avoid his peering and he breaks out into a small smile. 

“I get it, my sis is like that, introvert right?”

You nod. That wasn’t remotely the reason, but you'll let him think that.

“I’m a bit of both, you know, I like talking but not too much. Sometimes it can be draining, sometimes it can be-“

“This isn’t going to be like your rambles about dough is it?” You cut him off jokingly and he shyly averts. 

“No no- sorry.. I have a tendency to talk too much.” Andy grazes his arm awkwardly, and you feel him distance himself a little. Perhaps that was a bit mean. 

You try to ease the heaviness in the atmosphere. “I like hearing your rambling. I was just being sarcastic, don't worry. Maybe it wasn’t the best time to joke like that,” you admit, and you notice him visibly relax. 

“That’s okay.” He beams and you mimic the expression.

When you reach the bar you’re in a nice little section by yourselves, and you’re surrounded by comfortable lighting, modern decorations, leather brown chairs, and relaxed people doing their own things.

It was amazing. 

“You act like you haven’t seen people in years,” Andy chuckles as he takes a sip of his drink. 

An evident frown shifts your expresion and he notices. His hand carefully touches your wrist and you shift to him.

“Sorry, did I offend?” 

Shaking your head, you force a small smile and declare an excuse. Whether it be along the lines of “just tired,” “lost in thought,” or anything else, it was all the same. The truth was too horrid even for you to bear. Seriously, how unlucky did you have to be for that?

There was only so much you could do for yourself. You’re ecstatic you managed to escape. You have a life now. You can see all these people, revel in the laughter, maybe even fall in love and have children. Though, maybe you were getting too ahead of yourself.

You made sure not to get drunk. When you walked home that was always the scariest part of the day. Whether it be at night, or in the morning, it didn’t make too much of a difference. A dangerous fear you have is walking pass a certain tall figure with white hair.

Though he’d more likely take the scarier approach. Stealthy. Watching you from the shadows and contemplating when he’d take you. You wondered many times if this was the case already. Perhaps he is just toying with your freedom. 

Repeatedly you force away from the anxieties. You can’t think so negatively. You have a life now. It’s already been a few weeks. You bested him whether he liked it or not. You won. 

Andy fortunately isn’t too drunk either, maybe a bit tipsy, but nothing unsafe. Man or not, having another person beside you made you feel comfortable. Even if Gojo was watching, he or any rational person isn’t likely to just snatch a person when they’re with another. It’s just too suspicious. No one can risk that. 

“Are you okay? You look scared,” Andy asks, and you fake a tug at your lips, a pouring discomfort in you. 

“I’m okay, it’s just the night can be a little creepy you know." You quickly reason.

Andy purses his lips, pondering a moment before draping his arm over your shoulder. Surprise rushes to you, a swarm of butterflies swooning at the gesture. He was warm, and his grip unlike Gojo’s was gentle. It was like you’d break if he held you any harder. 

“Don’t worry, I’m here.” He speaks with a determined but sweet tone and you giggle, leaning into his touch. 

“How sweet.” A mocking voice behind your form makes you stop dead in your tracks, eyes going wide. 

“(Y/n)?” Andy turns when you aren’t keeping up with him, and you’re frozen, still as a plank of wood. His eyes blink up at the cause, surely meeting your worst nightmare. 

You're terrified, but instinctively you whirl around, tears brewing in your eyes as you shout, “Don’t hurt him!” 

Gojo’s blue orbs are shining down at you, and he’s smiling wide.

“Oh?” He muses, raising his brow as he walks over to you. Every step he made caused you to flinch in place, and your hands were shaking as he rounded closer.

Suddenly his lips press to your ears and he whispers, “Should’ve thought about that before you ran off and made new friends.” 

Instinctively, Andy rushes to shove him away and Gojo holds out his hand, forcing him to stop in place. He grins, and you step back, fixating on those eyes you dreaded so much. “Don’t..” you plead.

Snickering, he strolls to Andy whose almost frozen, and he casually observes his features with a dark gaze. “Hm, I at least expected you to pursue someone better.” 

You open your mouth to speak, and blood splatters over you, gushing atop your pretty makeup. Your throat is unable to let out a blaring scream, instead your shaky hands move to your vision. Red. Red liquid splotched against your fingers, staining your skin. 

Gojo lets out a tired exhale, and he starts caressing your hair in the way you hate so much. The way he’d pet you without an ounce of care once he'd finish giving you a punishment or would cause you to heave out with sobs.

He's scanning you for a second until he moves and you instinctively shift back. Repeating, you step and something big crunches beneath your heel, causing you to fall back.

Finally, the scream escapes, and you’re rushing to crawl away from the horror. Blood is decorating the ground, the walls, the trash that lays around, everything, anywhere but on him. Gojo is sauntering, and there's a grin spreading his features wide.

Your desperate movement leads to no avail when your back hits a wall and Gojo eventually crouches down to you.

“Get away from me!” You shout as Gojo tugs your hair forcefully back.

His blue orbs glower at you. “Huh?” His grip tightens, and you whine from the pain searing in your scalp. “What was that?” He tugs harder and you scream.

Tears start to cascade, and you plead desperately. “Please d-don’t take me back.” The force pulling your locks lessens, and he stoically observes the scene.

You’re hiccuping through your sobs as you keep going, “P-Please… I don’t want to go back, I’ll do a-anything, p-please don’t take me there, please.” 

A grin finally breaks out as he speaks, “Now, where’s the fun in that?” He evilly snickers in a way that has you crying more. Even if you know pleading with him will do nothing, you’re desperate.

But it’ll only further amuse him.

“I don’t want t-to go." You’re whining pathetically, and he exhales a disappointed sigh as he ignores you to study the mascara falling in streams at your cheeks. 

“Man, what a waste,” he mutters to himself then presses a hand to his chin, tilting his head as he loses himself in thought.

“I’m surprised you even managed to avoid me for a whole month, I’m almost impressed.” His view is fixated on the sky as he continues. 

“Looks like the first punishment wasn’t enough. So hm, what am I going to do now?” He fakes a curiosity while a glimmer shines in his eyes. He knows, and so do you, and you’re sniveling through the choke in your throat at the thought. 

“I was gonna be all nice to you too. Even when you don’t deserve it,” he sighs. “I was gonna take you back home, have a sweet dinner date since it’s been so long, but.. since you decided to get all pretty for that guy there,” he motions to the corpse behind him, then zones in on you.

“I’ll have a bit of fun with you first.” 

You’re exploding into a fit of panicked tears, desperate begs falling from your lips. “P-Please don’t do this.” 

“Aw,” He mockingly coos, wiping a few tears from your eyes. 

“Don’t worry. You’ll love it.” 

·:*:· ★ ·:*:· ·:*:· ★ ·:*:·　 

A quick sketch for my girls out there.

[snapnov4]

i was made for lovin' you, baby!

synopsis: jjk men falling in love with you

wc: 1.7k

a/n: vela returns from a victorious (not intended) year long hiatus and very solemnly offers you the headcanons she's been desperately cooking up for way too long, enjoy <3 don't forget to reblog!

✰ kento doesn't even realize he's in love with you until he's making the two of you dinner. you're sprawled out on his couch, talking about your recent mission. the two of you aren't even dating. you just end up together at the end of every day. it all feels so intimate. as he listens to you talk, he notices he’s picking out the parts you don't like, setting them to the side. he remembers when he was a kid, and his mother told him food was a labor of love. he recalls that bakery he used to frequent when he was still working a regular job, how the smell of the bread and sweets was comforting, and how the girl who worked at the counter always had a fresh loaf for him. as he's sitting across from you at his dinner table that’s only big enough for two, he feels like his world is shifting on his axis a bit.

kento’s always enjoyed listening to you talk; much to gojo’s dismay, you're the only person nanami could listen to for hours. you're talking so vibrantly, moving your hands to illustrate actions, and he feels terrible about the fact that he can't hear anything you're saying. instead, he's thinking of the lunches you bring for him, the way your pinky touches his ever so slightly, like some silly school kids. he thinks of how you rest your head on his shoulder when you're stuck on a long commute from a mission; he thinks of your shoes by his at the door, a spare coat on his rack, an extra cursed tool in his closet. he thinks of your easy smiles and lively laughs. he thinks of how you easily fall against him no matter how you feel, whether it be a fit of uncontrollable laughter or a collapse after a long day. you're not dating; no one even thinks you're dating, but nanami’s heart practically swells when you seek him out through the day, placing a hand over his paperwork and telling him to take a break. he thinks of how you always kiss him on the cheek when you leave and always remember to text him that you've gotten home safely. if you're not so tired that you're sprawled on his couch with a blanket he's saved for you. he thinks about how, if he stayed working that awful job, he'd never have this, never have you, in your own unique way. he wasn't sure why he kept being a sorcerer; he just presumed that he’d work until he died. however, sitting across from you, talking animatedly about some shenanigan yuuji has wrapped you into, he feels content. it's almost like this could mean something; maybe his life is truly just a cycle, all leading to an uneventful death, but with you by his side, he thinks, it feels worth it.

✰ toji is not in love with you, or at least that's what he says. however, he realizes he may be that fond of you on a quiet evening. toji never expected to find himself so soft and domestic. he'd liked you because of your take-no-shit attitude; when he met you in some dark bar some months ago, watching you turn down every suitor who came your way, he accepted the challenge. he'd find you at least once a week, always in the same spot, and he's the only guy you let buy you drinks, the only one allowed to sling an arm around your shoulders. you made him wait for it. but now, months later, you let him wrap his arms around you without a word, and you're so quiet and calm, completely and utterly relaxed, and it's so good. toji’s hands are far from clean, he's far from the kind of upstanding guy he thinks you truly deserve, but you lay in his arms so easily, as if you couldn't care less what he's done. you drag your finger across his scars. you press a kiss to the corner of his mouth without recoiling at the feeling of scar tissue. you're almost too good to be true. he thinks of all the times you've patched him up, brows knitted in careful concentration, telling him, “this might sting,” even though he'd walked in practically unaffected by the injury in the first place. the way you forced him to tell you what he did for a living, and even though he didn't spare the gritty details, you still seemed not to care, as long as he was coming back safe. he's come to expect you to be standing at the door, sitting at the table, or lying on the couch when he gets home. right now, you're lying in his arms, completely unaware of just how much he loves you and loves this. your hand is in his, silently twiddling with his fingers as your eyes focus on whatever movie or tv show you've taken an interest in now. he decides he’ll leave it all behind for you. all of it. when he finishes this next job, he’ll buy a ring. then he’ll get a regular job, and finally, he’ll be happy.

✰ satoru realizes he's in love with you on a seemingly ordinary day. he's finished work for the day, or rather, for the last two days. he hasn't slept in three, and his head is starting to kill him, even with his reversed cursed technique. right now, he only wants to get home, eat something sweet, and collapse in bed. when he walks into his usually quiet and organized apartment, he realizes quite a few things. there's a bag of that mochi from that place in sendai that he loves, and a note beside it reads, “the kids and i picked these up for you!” he recognizes your handwriting, messily scrawled as if you were in a hurry. next, he notices that every blanket (except for his, he silently hopes) is spread across the floor in the living room, nestled in what seems like the coziest pile ever is you and the kids. megumi is on your left, and tsumiki is on your right. the three of you are sleeping so soundly that he almost wants to kill every higher-up for pulling him away from you, from this, from his family. as he looks at you nestled between megumi and tsumiki, he realizes that's exactly where he wants you to be.

the three of you have been knocked out for a while; your limbs tangled and blankets moved. after showering quickly, he finds out that his blanket was not exempt from the fort, but he doesn't even mind as he makes his way back to the living room, scooting in next to a sleeping megumi, and he watches for a bit. studies the way your chest rises and falls, the way you so easily let the kids relax against you, the way your mouth hangs open so hilariously that he wishes he'd snapped a photo while he was still up. he feels his heart swell immensely when he finally does lay down, and megumi nestles his face into his shoulder, and you feeling the sudden movement, throw your arm across him. satoru never thought he could feel this soft. the privilege of meaning something to you, to these kids, is better than any sorcerer grade, any title, anything. when he settles down, his arm so long he can reach all the way over the three of you. he recognizes the sock you're wearing. it's black and probably way too expensive; if he squints a bit, he can almost see the custom embroidered “GS” on every piece of clothing he owns (clan habits die hard). he can't stop the soft smile that spreads across his face. of course, you love him; you're wearing one of his socks.

✰ suguru isn't the kind of guy to be surprised by his own feelings. at least before you, he wasn't. however, he finds you surprise him every day; every little habit of yours implants itself in his brain. he could spend hours just watching you do the most mundane tasks, but when he truly realizes he's in love with you, it’s early one morning. he's sitting on his bed, watching you get ready at the vanity he bought just for you, half of it your makeup and the other half various products he puts in his hair. he feels infatuated with you. your entire routine is done with so much care and attention that he can't help it. he's been watching you get ready every morning for the better part of two months. but what really gets him is the way you've changed your routine to involve him. a small kiss to his lips every morning, setting your alarm earlier so you really can stay in bed for “five more minutes,” drinking your coffee at home because he makes it the best. always asking him, which shirt looks better? what color should I wear? rattling off all your daily tasks, turning to see suguru holding your keys, or your wallet, or your umbrella right as you begin to ask where it is. and most recently, indulging him by picking a vanity, after you complained about being tired of doing your makeup standing up in his bathroom and how the drawer you've been keeping your products in was starting to overflow. geto’s obsessed with watching you do your makeup, sitting behind you on the bed, quietly admiring the way your hand moves in practiced steady strokes. he loves the way you silently curse if you mess up your wing, he loves the way you still suck your cheeks in to do your blush, he loves the way you sit in front of the mirror silently debating on wearing your hair up or down or maybe a mix of both. he loves how you apply lip gloss, the last step of your routine. always the last step, because the goodbye kiss at the front door leaves more of it on him than on you. he watches with a soft smile and sticky lips as you reapply your gloss in the mirror in the entryway, smiling when you catch his eye in the mirror. laughs at the way you roll your eyes but don't stop him from pulling you back in the doorway, kissing you again because he “already misses you,” so finally, you add reapplying your lip gloss in the car to your morning routine, while suguru adds loving you to his, but that was already there, wasn't it?

[euovennia]

"what's so funny?" | task force 141

this blurb has been on my mind so much ever since it first appeared in my inbox and i'm so happy to have finally written it, my dumb little gen z brain couldn't resist. thank you for requesting, and as always, i hope you enjoy <3

pairing: youngest!reader x (platonic) task force 141

warnings: none

summary: the team gets curious when you seem to having just a little too much fun while scrolling through your phone. (based on this request)

The team doesn't seem to notice your small huffs of laughter at first, and if they do, they don't seem to give it a second thought. Why would they? You laughing at random videos on your phone had practically become second nature to them by this point. So, they remain quiet, each of them doing their own separate thing in the common area. Gaz reading some random article about sharks on his phone, Ghost and Soap watching some low-budget action film on the television, and Price busying himself with some random crossword from a book of puzzles he'd picked up for himself not too long ago. They don't bother to interrupt your screen time as you sit propped up in the corner with your phone in your hands. They've come to learn you're often far too enthralled with the minute long videos you religiously scroll through to give them more than a quick smile of acknowledgement. They don't mind, however, it seems to make you happy.

Even so, they can't help but each feel a little curious as your faint smiles of amusement turn into small fits of giggles that you can barely contain with a painful bite to your lip. By the time Gaz finishes up reading his article, you're practically bursting at the seams as you try to contain your laughter. He watches you from across the room with great interest as you give your phone screen another swipe with a swift movement of your thumb. He keeps his eyes concentrated on your smiling face, eagerly waiting to see your reaction to the video you're currently watching. He's glad he did, because he's first to witness the way your resolve practically shatters as you fall into a loud fit of laughter. Each of the men give each other a shared look before Ghost stands up from the uncomfortable couch and makes his way over to you.

He stops just a few steps shy of you, "What's so funny?"

You give yourself a moment to calm down and take in a deep breath before handing him your phone with a large grin. He watches the video, his brows knitting themselves together in a state of confusion before he looks back down at you once the short video is finished playing.

"You're kidding me."

You grab your phone from his hands and haphazardly place it back onto the small table before standing up and grabbing his wrist.

"We need to do that, now."

He lets out a grunt, "We're not fuckin'–"

He's cut off by you reaching forward and grabbing onto his wrist with a soft touch.

"Please? I really wanna do it."

His eyes flicker back over to the video that's looping itself on your phone before settling his gaze back onto you who's staring up at him with a dopey grin and hopeful eyes. He's found he has a hard time saying no to you nowadays.

He sighs, "Fine."

Your face glistens with delight at his words and you're quick to pull him away from the room with the rest of the team still being able to hear you say something like, "this is gonna be so funny!"

Price, convinced you've whisked Ghost away to take part in something diabolical, quickly gets up from his chair and makes his way over to your abandoned phone. He picks it up with a careful grip and watches the video that's still looping.

Soap is the first to speak up after a few moments have passed, "What was it?"

Price's face is one of pure confusion as he turns the phone to face the men awaiting his response, "It's just a slice of bread falling over."

Gaz's face lights up as he gets up from his seat, "I wanna see some bread fall over," He cheers before rushing off in the direction of where you had taken Ghost.

The remaining two men watch him scurry off before turning to each other, the eldest of the two looking exceptionally confused as he speaks out, "Is this meant to be funny?"

Soap shrugs, "I prefer the one where the bread is having flashbacks, but the original one is fine too."

Price gapes at the Scotsman, "Flashbacks?!"

[iid-smile]

itadori loves your grandma.

he always gets so excited when you go to visit her together, putting on his best sweater (which is the one she knitted for him) and making sure he looks extra presentable. having a good impression in front of your family members is important!

once the two of you arrive, it's like he magically turns into the perfect grandson — or maybe he always has been. he engages in conversations, offers to help with cooking, offers to clean up whatever he can, and buys her groceries. all in one day.

and then in the morning, you'll find the two of them baking together, using her special recipe book that she refused to share with you a few months prior. your groggy self couldn't afford to be mad though, the smell of fresh bread and tarts filling the air, then cartoonishly seeping out the open window.

you also can't get mad at his toothy smile, alongside a tray of your favourite childhood treat carried in his hands.

[mobbu-min]

☆ grandma's best friend ☆

summary: in which you’re tasked with picking up your grandma after her knitting club and can’t help but fall in love with the handsome man sat right beside her.

a/n had this in the wip hell for forever. i was going to add azul but.... i have the hardest time writing him, so maybe he'll appear in another piece. also this takes place after they have graduated from nrc!

characters trey clover, deuce spade, jack howl, silver & lilia vanrouge

tw cursing

 Despite living in the same house with your grandma since the day you were born, there were still plenty of things you didn’t know about her. And truthfully you weren't one to pry into her, what you considered, pretty mundane life. Early morning walks, baking a mountain of cookies and breads and watching soap operas weren’t really your things. 

 So not once, never in your life, did you expect that you’d be stopped dead in your tracks the moment you entered through the glass doors of your grandma’s friend's sunroom. It was supposed to be a knitting class for older women, right?

 Well, apparently your grandma decided to be super mean and not tell you about the absolute hunk that came every week. 

 You watched from the entry as he laughed along with your grandma. It was like you could hear church bells in the distance. You instantly could tell with the way your grandma and the other ladies flocked to him and talked so sweetly to him that they were absolutely smitten with him. 

 As if sensing your rising temperature, your grandma turned her head around and waved you over. “What are you doing all the way over there? Come here, sweetie.”

 You suddenly felt so shy and quickly averted your gaze. Your stomach doing backflips the closer you got. Why did you feel like you were going to explode?

 As your grandma introduced you, you peaked up at him only to freeze in place the moment your gaze caught his. And the moment his lips stretched into the prettiest, most dazzling smile you’ve ever seen, you knew you were down bad. 

 Like really bad.

Trey Clover <3

⋆ Trey Clover, the baker’s son. Everyone knew him as a kind and gentle soul. You’ve known him since you were young, going to the same elementary school as him and his feline friend, however that all you were. Simply classmates and your desire to know him outside of that was zero to none.

⋆ So safe to say, you haven’t seen him since he was a preteen and suddenly the image of a lanky, nerdy looking boy with a shy smile dispersed when you saw him.

⋆ Tall, strong and handsome, not to mention a fine looking ass. He’s definitely changed since you last saw him. And suddenly, all the older women talking about trying to hook up their daughters with the baker’s son suddenly made a lot more sense. He was the definition of husband material.

⋆ And you were determined to make him yours.

☆☆☆

“Hopefully you remember my granddaughter, I know she can blend into the crowds easily.” You grandma laughed joyfully and despite her fraile statue, the heaviness of her hands persisted causing you to stumble forwards.

Chuckling awkwardly, you smiled crookedly at Trey who smiled easily at your grandma’s antics, seemingly used to it. Placing a large, yet comforting, hand on your shoulder he steady you, “Don’t worry, Mrs. (l/n), I have a pretty strong memory.”

“Hmpf, and hopefully you keep it then, lest you end up like your grandmother over there.” Your grandma jabbed playfully at the chubby woman who glared softly in her direction.

And yet despite your best attempt to listen to the both of them bicker back and forth, the warmth sweeping through your thin sweater was enough to keep your attention on the young man. Catching your gaze, Trey’s honey eyes twinkled with curiosity, “Hey, (y/n), it’s been awhile.”

Like water hitting oil, your heart exploded into thousands of little sparks the second your name rolled off his tongue. How can one person sound so sweet? Like sugar and sprinkles and everything sweet? It was not far!

“Hehe, yeahhh.” You drawled out, your cheeks ablaze and hot to the touch. Doing your best to reign in your heart eyes, you coughed into your fist and smiled sweetly at him, “H-how have you been? Last I checked you were in dentistry school, right?”

Scratching his nape, Trey hummed, “I was, but after my dad hurt his back I came back to help with the bakery. It didn’t feel right to leave my mom to take care of the bakery, my dad and siblings all by herself.”

Ah, a family man, how nice, you cooed internally. Now, you haven’t thought of settling down anytime soon, but for him? Your ass is sat.

“Oh, I’m so sorry, Trey. That sounds horrible.” You said with full sincerity, your heart aching for him. “Have you thought about going back though?”

“I’ve thought about it, but…” His gaze roamed around the room filled with elderly ladies laughing and joking around, to them greeting their partners with warm welcomes and honey eyes, until settling back to you. Mirth swam through his pretty eyes, “I kinda like it here.”

Your heart, the romantic thing it was, was set zooming into the sky and exploding into fireworks. While you knew it was merely coincidence that you just happened to be here and asked that particular question, it was all you needed to decide that whatever future Trey wanted was one you were going to be a part of.

The world can call you whatever, a romantic, a simp, you didn’t care.

Tilting your head, you smiled sweetly at him, “Yeah, I do too.”

This was going to be your happily ever after.

Deuce Spade <3

⋆ It took you a second to recognize the boy that struggled to untangle the yarn on his lap, but the moment his wide blue eyes scanned the room to see how far behind he was, you knew.

⋆ Deuce Spade, the former bad boy turned honorary magical student.

⋆ You wouldn’t say that you didn't like him, more like you don’t know him. Your paths never really crossed, with him always skipping school and all. Though you did always have a soft spot for him, afterall he would consistently turn a blind eye every time you snuck out of p.e.

⋆ And you couldn’t deny the tiny crush you had on him either. Something about his bad boy behavior that made your young nerdy heart swoon.

⋆ So who could blame you for blushing the moment he laid eyes on you.

☆☆☆

 Pretty, was the first thought that crossed your mind. Also, that he looked a lot like his mom, who you’ve tried to get with multiple times before hand. Sadly your homemade lunches and pathetic attempts at flirting did nothing to convince her to give you a chance. However it did convince her not to bill you every time she had to fix up your old beaten up car. 

 He looked a lot older too. His big bright blue eyes, a little narrower yet still glowing like the sun shining down on the sea. His soft cheeks were gone, a lot more slender and mature, yet he still maintained that youthful pink hue to the apple of his cheeks. And if you looked closely enough you could see the black ink of tattoos peeking out of his cerulean sweater. 

 You could feel your cheeks blossom into the all too familiar hue of the cherry blossoms that grew outside the windows. You hoped your makeup would mask the heat radiating off your cheeks. Clutching onto the straps of your bag, you shuffled towards your grandma, who stared at you with knowing eyes. Curses, I should have never left my diary where she could see it. 

 Just as you opened your mouth to greet your grandma, your breath hitched. It was like you were staring into the ocean, the glimmers in his eyes like clear waters. You were in awe at how a simple look from a guy you haven’t seen in ages could leave you so breathless. 

 A sharp jab to your ribs quickly ripped you out of whatever shoujo-esque moment you were having. Crumbling over, you gingerly held your side and wheezed. Your grandma, the blunt old lady she is, paid your suffering no mind and was quick to chastise you. “Goodness (y/n), have I not taught you nothing? It’s rude to stare.”

 Like a knight you’ve read about in plenty of romance novels back in your preteens and teens (even now honestly), he came to your rescue. 

 “It’s alright, I don’t mind Mrs. (l/n).” You could hear your grandma huff and turn away, probably to gossip with the other ladies. Despite her old age, her strength has yet to fail her and her elbows were, unfortunately, sharp. Yet, all that pain disappeared with a gentle touch to your shoulder. “Hey, are you okay?”

 Raising your head, your eyes widened at the closeness between you both. You were sure at this point your makeup did nothing to help the ever darkening color of your face. If anything it was probably being wiped off with how much you were sweating. 

 Laughing nervously, you shook your head and smiled, “Y-yeah, I’m good. It’s nothing I’m not used to.”

 Amusement danced in his eyes. Rubbing at his own side, he nodded along, “Tell me about it, she sure packs a punch.” Familiarity sparkled across his features, “(y/n), right? You were a grade above me?”

 “Yup, it’s been awhile, Deuce.” Sitting in your grandma’s spot, you took one of the sweet strawberry jam cookies and popped it in your mouth.”What have you been up to lately?”

 Sitting down, Deuce hummed, “You know, uni and stuff. Studying isn’t really my forte, but I’m trying hard.”

 “Making your mom proud?” You teased softly. With how often you were over at her house, you heard plenty of stories of his recent endeavors. Not to mention, you could never get over how fondly she spoke of her only son. The type of love and proudness that was totally unique to her. 

 Sighing, Deuce ran a hand through his hair, “I sure hope so…”

 Punching his shoulders, you scoffed, “Oh, c’mon Deuce, give yourself more credit. You're practically the light of her life. No matter what happens, she’ll always be proud of you.”

 Warmth flooded his gaze at your words. Despite knowing that, it was always nice to hear it said out loud. Playing with the loose threads of his sweater, he easily turned the conversation around, “Uh, but what about you? My mom says you're at the house every week to get your car fixed.”

 “Oh, yeah…haha…” You laughed bashfully, praying to the Sevens that she didn’t mention your flirting. Placing a finger on your chin, you stared up at the ceiling, “I’ve been good. I work at the local tattoo shop as a receptionist. I’m hoping that Mr. Stevens will finally accept my portfolio, but from the looks of things…I think I’m better off trying to get an apprenticeship in the city.”

 Nodding along, Deuce grinned, “I remember you always doodling on everything. I’m surprised you didn’t try…um…professional painting? Is that a thing? Like galleries and stuff?”

 “I wanted to, but it was too expensive. Tattooing though? Pretty accessible money wise, it’s just a pain in the ass to get someone to take you under their wing.” You sighed tiredly. Shrugging your shoulders, you turned your gaze to Deuce and grinned, “I guess we’ve both been busy trying to make something of ourselves huh?”

 “Yeah, I guess we are.”

 Hearing your grandma call out your name, you knew your conversation had to come to its end. Rising up, you fixed your bag and offered Deuce a soft smile. 

 “It was nice talking to you again. I’m kinda sad it was cut short.��

 Scratching his cheek, he averted his eyes, “Well…it doesn't have too.”

 Tilting your head, you looked at him in confusion. Something warm and electric blooming in your chest. 

 Reaching into his pocket, he took out his phone and offered it to you. Smiling nervously, he stuttered, “L-let’s exchange numbers and if you aren’t too busy, let’s get some drinks sometime this week.”

 It was like thousands of angels came down from heaven at his proposal. This was everything your little preteen heart had ever wanted, and who were you to deny her?

 “That sounds like fun!”

Jack Howl <3

(reader is a wolf beastmen too!)

⋆ Muscles….

⋆ So many muscles…

⋆ You could feel your knees quiver and threaten to crumble under your weight. You’ve seen plenty of muscular people in your life, but never one with such a gentle touch as him. The way he held the croquet needle was as if he was afraid he’d break it with his full force.

⋆ To the gentle sway of his fluffy snow white tail told you everything you needed to know about him.

☆☆☆

You considered taping your own tail against your leg with how fast it wagged behind you. Don’t be fooled, you loved who you were, but you didn’t love how easy it was for others to decipher your emotions through the simple beat of your tail. And it appears that, no matter how hard you try to feign a cool and mysterious persona, everyone could see how much of a dork you were by simply looking behind you.

Your grandma stifled her own chuckles behind a wrinkled hand, “Jack, this is my granddaughter, (y/n). I hope you can both get along.”

Both of your ears perked up the moment your eyes caught his, golden like the sun surrounded by fluffy white clouds. Again, your grandma giggled and busied herself with other matters. Deciding to let fate take charge.

Nodding your head, you smiled shyly, “It’s nice to meet you, Jack. It’s not often I meet other wolf beastmen here.”

You liked to think that's why you were so excited, and certainly not because he was practically your dream guy. Oh Sevens, it felt like you were in a dream. You wished you wouldn’t wake up.

Jack nodded, his expression stoic, but much like yourself, his curiosity was clearly shown by the twitch of his ear and wag of his fluffy tail. You instantly realized he wasn’t much for talking. Typically with anyone else, you’d find it awkward, but with Jack, you found yourself at ease.

Leaning against the window frame, you gestured to his green and brick brown coasters, “I like your coasters, they're so pretty. Are they for anyone in particular?”

Shaking his head, he moved besides you, “No, it’s actually for me. I thought it would look nice underneath my cactuses.”

His voice was deep, but not too deep that made you shudder, deep and smooth like you were floating through a river. A steady beat unlike your heart. From your spot you could smell his cologne, a light sandalwood fragrance that mixed well with his natural woodsy scent.

Humming softly, you pulled your tail to your lap to prevent it from hitting him and gently ran your fingers through the soft fur, “Cactuses, huh? You must take very good care of them.”

“I do. They seem easy to care for, but they need a strict schedule to make sure they grow strong.” Jack said proudly. A smirk that sent your heart into cardiac arrest present on his clear brown skin. And then as if he suddenly remembered something, he looked down almost bashfully, “And well, some are also for my family.”

Ugh, he just keeps on getting more and more perfect! You internally squealed. Calming yourself, you asked, “That’s nice of you. Handmade things from the heart is always the best. Is that why you’re taking these classes? I typically don’t see guys like you willingly hanging out in a place like this.”

Leaning his head back, Jack thought, “I thought this would broaden my horizons. Knitting and crocheting requires patience and discipline. So in turn that would help me out when I work out.”

“Training the mind, while training the body!”

“Mh-hm.” Glancing down at you, he grinned, “I’m glad you understand. The guys in my work out group were jerks about it.”

Grinning, you gently nudged him with your elbow, “They sound like a bunch of airheads then.”

Jack chuckled under his breath. They type of laugh that would have every head turning. The type of laugh that you would hear rarely, like a special treat. The type of laugh you knew you wanted for yourself.

Right then and there, you decided you were going to do your hardest to make him yours.

Silver <3

⋆ Beautiful, stunning, angelic, you could go on.

⋆ The boy in front of you was straight out of a romance novel. The knight perhaps, judging by his build. But his face totally screams prince.

⋆ You could feel your heart racing in your chest that it was almost painful.

⋆ And dear sevens, he just smiled.

⋆ Yeah, you were screwed.

☆☆☆

“I am so sorry!” You apologized profusely, hastily taking out napkins from your bag to dap onto his soft pastel blue sweater. Searing heat painted your face. Pure embarrassment piercing your chest.

“It’s fine, don’t worry about it.” He said softly, gently prying your shaking hands away. “Things like this happen, no need to get so worked up about it.”

If this was any other instance where you weren’t fighting your demons, you would be swooning and thinking to yourself that your dreams of becoming the main character of a shoujo anime finally came true. But no, the world hates you. So you were having a difficult time not feeling bad, especially when his sweaters looked so…

Expensive… you sighed internally, trying your best not to eye the large weird shaped blob staining his chest. “Still, I am incredibly sorry. Maybe I can pay for dry cleaning?”

A smile, soft and so, so, so pretty, formed on his face. A gentle shake of head caused his silky silver hair to fall delicately across his clear glasslike skin, you weren’t sure if you were feeling awe or envy at this point. With an amused tone that held no annoyance, he reassured, “I told you it was okay, didn’t I? I’m not mad at all, so you shouldn’t feel bad.”

Then his smile fell. Looking crestfallen, he sighed, “If anything, I should apologize. Your coffee is all gone now.”

Immediately alarm bells began to ring all throughout your head. A boy as pretty and nice as him should never be sad, it said. Fix it, it demanded.

Holding up your empty cup, you laughed nervously, hoping to ease his imaginary burden. “No, no! I have so much left! See!” A sad single drop touched your lip. You wanted to end it all.

Despite your pure hatred for the world right now, the boy in front of you found it funny. Or maybe he was pitying you. Either way you’re taking it as a win.

Covering your mouth with your hand, you laughed alongside him, “Maybe if I was an ant, then maybe that would have been enough.”

Clearing his throat, he gazed softly at you and held out his hand, “I’m Silver.”

Without missing a beat, you shook his hand, “(y/n). It’s nice to meet you, Silver.”

“Likewise.” Leaning against the wall, he asked, “What brings you here?”

Perking up, you swayed back and forth on the balls of your heels, “I’m here to pick up by grandma. Though she’s typically not this late.”

You spared your phone a glance. She was twenty minutes late. You would have gone in to see, but last time she scolded you big time. You weren’t really in the mood to deal with her nasty temper.

Silver nodded. “Me too. I came to get my father, but it seems like the class is running longer then expected. -sigh- I shouldn’t have fallen asleep earlier.”

“You feel asleep?” You asked with a light laugh.

Pink dusted his face and his auroral eyes stared up at the sky, “Yes. It’s a bad habit I’ve had for a long time. Anyways, I was supposed to attend today, but well…”

His bashful expression made your heart swoon. Was it possible for a angel to look any more angelic? Apparently yes, judging by the way the sun perfectly hit his features and the sudden appearances of birds and little critters.

“It happens. I was supposed to come too, but I spent too much time getting ready that my grandma left without me. Something about her having to get there early.” She has been acting so strange lately, you hoped she wasn’t getting sick.

“Odd, my father had to get here early too.” Silver hummed, remembering the way his father buzzed in excitement.

A few seconds passed by in silence. Mulling over each other words, you both began to piece together the reasons for their odd behaviors. Looking up at Silver, you gasped.

“You don’t think…”

“Perhaps…”

As if answering your questions, the doors to your grandmother’s friends sunroom burst opened. Followed by her friend’s exasperated yells and two gleeful gigglings. Spinning around the both of your gasped.

“I told you both! Next time I catch you guys kissing in my sunroom, I’m kicking you out!” She huffed.

“Ehehe, Mrs. Eliza no need to get so pent up! We were merely getting acquainted!” The small, youthful looking fae giggled. Hugging your grandmother from behind.

“Acquainted! In my sunroom?!” She gasped indignantly. Her face was hot in anger.

“You’re just mad I’m getting more action than you have in the past 30 years!” Your grandmother cackled, kissing the fae’s cheeks lovingly.

Before the older lady could lift her broom up to wack your grandmother, Silver stepped fowards with an apologetic smile, “Ms, I’m so sorry for my father’s behavior.”

Instantly her anger died down at the angelic boy. Her frown turning into a sweet smile. “Oh, you sweet boy. No need to apologize for your father. Goodness, how did that thing even raise such a sweet boy like yourself.”

Despite Silver's smile, you noticed the way his fist clenched at his side. You rose a brow at him. Ignorant to his quiet anger, she waved the two older figures off. “Just get out of here.”

Once she was outta sight, they both burst out in laughter. Holding each other up as their lungs expelled any air left. All of your grandma’s odd behavior suddenly made sense.

“What the heck?” You finally said, earning their attention. Pointing to the mischievous looking fae, you asked, “This is why you’ve been getting home late? Because you were getting…getting…”

“My freak on.” Your grandma giggled. You suddenly regretted setting up her tik tok account.

Placing at hand on Silver’s shoulder, you gagged, “Oh god, I’m going to puke.”

“Oh please, no need for your theatrics dear.” Your grandma hushed, already making her way to your car. Over her shoulder, she jabbed, “Unless your jealous that I got a boyfriend before you!”

You gasped so loud that it made Silver jump. “Grandma!”

The fae, floated towards your grandma and kissed her cheek. Rubbing her shoulders, he grinned, “Now dear, don’t be so harsh on the youngin’s. I fear it’s a common issue among them all.”

Silver bristled next to you. His cheeks heated up at his father’s remark. Romance has never been his top priority.

“Do you hear them, Silver! They’re mocking us!” You hissed, your face hot with embarrassment.

“I hear them loud and clear.” He sighed. Looking at the fae, Silver asked, “Father, I never expected to find out you were seeing someone. Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

His magenta eye widened at the hurt in his son’s voice. You and your grandma looked at him quizzically. Placing a hand on Silver’s arm, you rubbed it reassuringly. And definitely not because you could feel his toned and defined muscles.

“Ah, well your old man is entitled to his secrets.” Pointing to your grandma, he added, “Like my dearest!”

“I never kept it a secret. She just never asked, Lilia.” Your grandma retorted.

All three pairs of eyes fell on you. Suddenly finding your shoes the most interesting thing in the world, you chuckled stiffly, “Well…she's not wrong…”

Shaking her head, your grandma offered joyfully, “How about a nice cup of tea and muffins to settle things out!” Then nudging, who you now know as, Lilia, she winked, “We might not be the only one’s in a relationship soon enough.”

Catching her drift, he eyed the both of you playfully, “Ohoho! Oh lovely. I’ve always wanted grandchildren.”

Confusion fluttered through your features. Looking at each other, you were suddenly very much aware of the lack of space between you both. Jumping back, you both stared at each other bashfully. Your grandma and Silver’s father’s laughter floating in the distance. Your heart drumming against your rib cage at Silver’s shy face.

Sevens, I think I’m going to die!