#// my son hears dance he's game.

[hellguarded-moved]

≥ COMMUNICATION ESTABLISHED: @solarshined ( "SOURCE" );

it wasn't often, if at all, that the hound attended such formal parties alone. but it's been years, how could he turn down such an opportunity, all but yearning for a little movement? he still owned an authentic outfit for the ocassion; a neatly pressed tux with far too many details and adornments, little lines of gold decorating the otherwise black fabric, complete with a cape and a mask to cover his eyes, sprouting around the top to give it somewhat of an impression of a crown, and the feathers attached at the side matched the other's own.

" you think so? but you look quite lovely— certainly i wasn't the first one to make the mistake? " raspy tones scratched at his throat, a faint smirk lighting up his visage. it was curious to hear that she wasn't good and yet attended anyway— an attitude he could appreciate.

the lady's bold request for a dance was a little out of the ordinary, as it were usually the men taking such a step. but, not a request he could decline. smile widened yet before he nodded, gingerly closing his fingers around her own, lifting their joint hands slightly higher up as he began leading her towards the dance floor. " i might know a step or two. "

she was rather cute in the way she tried so hard to retain manners, hiding away her face— he'd seen a glimpse of it at this point, given her earlier failures, but he'd simply play along. if it were up to him, he would've even kept their names a secret, at least until the evening was over... but as it were, it would have been improper not to return the sentiment now.

" you may call me ignis. zaahm is such a unique name, not like one i've ever heard in the past... " which was something to say, given his lifespan, " you must have travelled from far away. "

[cindyss]

• - I DARE YOU TO RIDE HIS THIGH - •

PAIRING(S): mattheo riddle x fem. reader !

WARNING(S): thigh riding, his pov, smut

SUMMARY: y/n gets dared to ride mattheo’s thigh, and after pausing the game, they manage to get locked in alone in Draco’s room.

A/N: im thinking maybe threesome theo and mattheo for my next write?

——————————————————

You and pansy decided to attend a party hosted by some of your fellow slytherin friends at their house. You got your dress on, got there, and began your night.

You got lost into the night, drinking and dancing and drinking and dancing. You met theo, one of the hosts of the party, and danced with him for a bit before the two of you were called to play a game of truth or dare.

Everyone got in a circle to begin the game. Astoria, Pansy, you, draco, theo, blaise, mattheo-theodore’s roommate, who youve never met before, and many, many more. You’d heard about Mattheo before, the dark lord’s son, but what you didn’t know is how fucking attractive this man is.

The game began and so many secrets were revealed and dares were made. Astoria and Pansy were dared to kiss, blaise shared his mom’s number with everyone, draco admitted to once clogging the toilet in his 2nd year, and much more funny stuff.

Theodore spun the bottle and it landed on mattheo. Theo immediately smirked before speaking “i dare you to sit on a chair, while one of the girls rides your thigh for a minute.” A bunch of “oos”were shared in the room. Mattheo just shook his head in disappointment at his friend’s dare.

“Okay so here’s how we’re gonna pick the girl, we’re gonna spin the bottle again.” Theo spins the bottle and it lands on you. Fuck. You were attracted to this man, but thats not how you were planning to get his attention.

Everyone laughs, ready for the show to begin, and you looked up to see mattheos reaction to which you found him staring at you. He came near you and got close, you could feel his breath on your ear “you don’t have to do this if ur uncomfortable.” he whispered. “ its fine.” You stated before you both got to your spot.

He sat on a chair and they started playing music, you got close to him as he manspread, providing enough space for you. You were wearing a dress with just your panties from the bottom, meaning your already wet clit was gonna rub his thigh.

You place yourself on him, grinding slowly at first. Your hands grab his thighs, fingers digging there to remain balanced. He places his hands on your waist guiding you as little moans and whimpers leave both your mouth and his. Good thing the music was loud enough so that the others wouldnt hear them.

his pov:

Gosh, how did i ever end up in this situation. Ive only met the girl for 30 mins and now shes riding my thigh. That asshole theo knows my weaknesses and he decides to use them against me when i tell him about the attractive girl. She’s so good at it it’s driving me insane.

Her clit is rubbing at my thigh and i can already feel myself harden, god fuck she probably felt that. Im now a whimpering mess, i need more than this. This girl is fucking amazing i need her closer. It takes every muscle in me not to kiss her or even throw my head back but this girl is driving me out of my mind.

your pov:

Your wet clit was rubbing against his bare skin since he’s wearing shorts. The only thing separating your skin was your panties. Suddenly, you feel something poking your stomach, you know what this is and you are aware of this situation.

God, this was the longest minute of your whole entire fucking life. “Times uppp!!” Theo shouts making you jump up.

“Alright everyone, for Christ’s sake we’re taking a break” Blaise spoke as everyone separated from the area. “Woahh, that was fucking hot y/n” Astoria spoke. You smiled at her and glanced Mattheo’s way only to find him already looking at you while his friends tease him about what just happened.

“Yo mattheo, y/n needs to use the bathroom, mind leading her there?” Pansy joked as the boy nodded. Confused and pissed at your friends for this act of embarrassment, you play along and follow the slytherin boy up the stairs. Just then, as you’re both making your way to the bathroom, someone pushes you both into a room and locks you in there. “Have fun in there losers.” Fuck.

As you were confused on what to do, you turned around inspecting the room before you were met with the boy right in front of you. “Heyy, sorry if it was awkward before, i did not want that to be our first impression,” he apologized. A smile tugged at your lips as you said “no worries, i enjoyed that anyway, plus you made a horrible job at covering your boner.”

He smirked playfully as he blushed, then you turned around and before you could walk to the bed, he grabbed your hand, making you turn as he connected your lips. You kissed him back rapping your arms around his neck. He smirked into the kiss as he pinned you to the wall.

His eyes full of lust, his hands working on removing both of your clothes as trails kisses down your collarbone. You help him to remain just in your red set of lingerie. “Fucking hell.” He whispers before carrying you to the bed. You get on top of him kissing him as his hands roam your body. “This is draco’s room, he’s gonna be mad as fuck.” You both chuckle.

He kisses you again and slips his tongue in your mouth, you grind on him moaning quietly. “Gaaa..d” he moans into the kiss, grabbing your hair. You help him out of his pants and boxers laying between his legs. Your lips only inches away from his hard cock, you take him in your hands, preparing him.

He’s now sat down you the bed, you between his thighs. You tease his tip, giving it a kiss with your mouth before wrapping your lips around his cock, taking everything he has to give. He groans at your actions, grabbing you by your hair guiding you. You even make a few gagging noises which makes him throw his head back “haaaa.. fuck yeah. just like that baby… mmh.”

You then bob your head up and down, speeding your movements. “fuckkk.. shit yeah. hell yeahh ..hmm fuck- faster faster.. hmhh” he whimpers. just then, he cums in your mouth making you swallow every bit. He grabs you by the face kissing you “good girl”.

Then, he unclasps your bra, while leaving soft kisses on your neck. Your boobs pop out, “fuck wow.” he speaks before beginning to pleasure you. He begins nipping and sucking on your left tit, his other hand cupping your other breast. He flicks your tit in his hand, pinching it, making you moan and whimper against his touch.

Trailing kisses down your stomach, he grabs your panties pulling them down, adding them to the pile of clothes that has now formed on the floor. “You’re already this wet hmm?” he smirks to which you nod at. He slips two of his fingers in, curling them inside you, he connects your lips, not allowing any loud sounds to be heard. He speeds his movement as you’re now under him, arching your back to feel him closer, he uses his fingertips to trail your hipbone.

“Mattheo…” “yes, sweetheart ?” “I need you inside me please right now.” his lips tug into a smile before he says “whatever you want baby .” then, he removes his fingers, holds your hands and pins them above your head. He lines his hard cock with your entrance, teasing your clit. Then, suddenly, he pushes inside you making you moan loudly.

“FUCKKK” you scream. “Shh, sweetheart, i don’t want anyone to hear your little moans.” He leaves you to adjust to his size before he begins thrusting inside you. He lowers his face to kiss you, slipping his tongue in. He bites your lower lip, licking it before moving down to your neck. Just then, you speak. “mmh gonna cum” you say with your eyes closed from the pleasure.

“Not yet love,” mattheo then lifts you up, pulling out of you. He places you on the bed, sat and not anymore facing him. He then places his legs above yours, before pushing inside you. This was much deeper and better. You throw your hands above your mouth to keep from making noises as he begins rubbing your clit. You scream as you come clean on him. “Good girl” he praises before pulling out of you.

“We have to clean this shit up or draco will kick me out.” You both chuckle as he goes to the bathroom (in dracos room) and turns the bath on. “I cant walk mattheo.” He laughs loud before pulling you off the bed and carrying you to the shower. “I guess this will be our room for tonight, draco will have to deal with it” you both laugh.

[lulunothulu]

“All Your’n”

Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw x Reader

Summary: You and Bradley had been best friends for a while. You’d both wanted more but the other didn’t know until you declare him yours after a fight.

Content: fluff, swearing, FLUFF

GIF credit: @betty-draper

Based on the song “All Your’n” by Tyler Childers

It’d been a shitty day.

All day long, you had been dealing with the Dagger Squad and their stupid antics. Everyone was irritating you and you didn’t know why.

No, you knew why.

It was Bradley’s fault.

The night before, you’d watched him flirt with one of the skankiest aviator you’d ever met—Sunny—at Hard Deck. While you two weren’t together, you’d hoped he wouldn’t go so low. Especially with her. He knew you and Sunny had a problem with one another and being your best friend, Bradley had vowed to you he would never fuck with her.

I guess things change.

It started like any night at Hard Deck, Bradley and Jake picking a girl Jake should flirt with and Bradley telling Natasha and Bob he didn’t think Jake would do it.

“He’s being a little too cocky,” you hear Nat tell Bradley. “If he wants the red head to like him, he should’ve just gotten her a drink like a normal guy instead of showing off his darts skills.”

“Wait hold on,” you tell her, pointing to Jake and the red head across the bar. “Look at what he’s doing.”

“That son of a bitch,” you hear Bradley mutter to your left.

Jake had just tapped his cheek, the red head moving to kiss him before he turns his head quickly, catching her lips with his.

“That was annoyingly smooth,” he says with an eye roll. He finishes his beer before turning to the group and asking, “Anyone want another?”

Payback, Coyote, Fanboy, Natasha, and you all cheerfully say, “Fuck yes” causing Bradley to shake his head with a smile and look to Bob.

“Help me carry them all?” Bob nods, following Bradley’s broad and muscular form to the bar where Penny greets them with smiles.

You turn to Nat who’s watching you with a smile.

“Wanna play a game of pool, Domino?” She asks.

You shrug, “Why not? I have to school your ass again.”

“I let you win that one time and now you have an ego,” she laughs.

You’re in the middle of starting the game when you see Sunny walk into the bar and make a beeline for Rooster at the bar.

Her blonde hair was loose, falling down her neck and brushing the seams of her sundress.

“When did she get the time to change into that?” Natasha asks from your right.

“Who fucking knows,” you respond, rolling your eyes.

Behind you, Coyote whistles as Sunny, Bob and Rooster approach with beers in hand. “Damn, Sunny. You look good.”

“Thanks,” she smiles, flipping her hair over her shoulder. “I did it for Bradshaw here.”

Fucking bitch.

Bradley’s brows raise in question as he takes a swig of his beer and hands you yours. “For me? Why?”

Sunny laughs. “I’ve been sending you hints for past few months. Haven’t you noticed?”

“Honestly no,” Bradley tells her. “I’ve had my eyes on someone else.”

At that everyone turns to you, but you’re too busy looking at Sunny. Her eyes narrow on you before she sweetly smiles before wrapping her arms around Bradley’s broad shoulders.

“Can you show me how to play pool?” She asks.

“I guess, Seresin’s better than I am,” he tells her. “Don’t tell him I said that.”

You watch as Sunny leads him to the pool table across from yours, Bradley’s eyes apologetic as he begins to show her how to play.

“Easy girl,” you hear Jake say behind you. You turn to see him sipping his beer, an arm around the red head. “He knows who he belongs to. No need to get worked up.”

“Fuck off, Bagman.” You seethe.

By the end of the night, Sunny was drunk as hell, dancing on tables and doing everything she could to keep Bradley by her side. It was 11:45 PM when you finally had enough.

“I think imma head out,” you tell Phoenix.

“Do you want me to get Bradley?” She asks.

You turn to where Sunny’s legs were propped on Rooster’s lap, Bradley’s hand comfortably on her ankle and smile lazily on his lips.

You shake your head and roll your eyes. “Nah, let him have more time with his new girlfriend.”

He didn’t even bother to text you how and if you got home that night. And that’s what was pissing you off the most.

Not that he had broken the one promise you asked him to never do, but that he never even called you to make sure you were alright.

Sunny must’ve been really good in bed. Of course she was. She was the squad’s biggest flirt, and that says something because Hangman is the man-whore.

Anyway, it wasn’t like you stayed up all night waiting for his call.

That would’ve been pitiful.

Your last straw today had been when you saw Sunny and Bradley talking y one of the jets, Sunny’s hand on his chest laughing at something he’d said.

Your blood was boiling. You wanted to slap the smile off her face, or worse pummel her into the ground with your boots.

“Domino,” you hear Natasha call to your left. “What’s wrong?”

“What makes you think somethings wrong?” You ask.

“Your face is unusually bitchier,” Jake says from behind.

“Maybe it’s because everyone has been annoying the shit out of me,” you spit back.

“Everyone, or Bradshaw?” He asks, a smirk forming.

“Fuck off, Seresin,” you seethe, clenching your jaw from saying it too loudly for everyone else to hear.

“C’mon, Y/L/N,” he starts. “We all know you’re sweet on Bradshaw.”

“Hangman,” Natasha warns.

“What it’s true?” He counters. He points, flicking between you and Bradley behind you. “They’ve been inseparable for years. Plus, we all see the way they look each other. He’s as much hers and she is his. They should just kiss and get it over with. Then, we won’t have to deal with her mood swings when Sunny starts acting a fool.”

“Seresin, shut. The fuck. Up.” You seethe. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I may not look like the brightest, but I have eyes,” he tells you, squaring his shoulders and smiling. “We can see how much it kills you that Sunny—”

“I’m warning you…”

“—has made the moves on Bradshaw, even after you two had that vow,” he continues. “Just go claim him!”

“SHUT THE FUCK UP SERESIN.” You yell, causing everyone in the hangar to turn to where you two are standing—Bradley and Sunny included.

Your cheeks feel warm, you know you’re blushing and hard. Behind you, you feel a hand in your shoulder and when you turn, you find Maverick standing there. His face is masked in calm but you know he’s probably as angry as he can be.

“Go take a walk,” he tells you.

You’re shaking in anger and embarrassment, but you nod. Pushing past him, you take off, passing by a smug-faced Sunny and dumbfoundedly confused Bradley.

“See ya, Domino,” Sunny says as you pass them. She laughs before adding, “Fucking psycho.”

That makes you stop in your tracks because what the actual fuck?

You turn to face her, walking right up to her, and getting within an inch of her face.

“What did you say?” You ask.

Fear fills her eyes and she pulls Bradley close to her. “Nothing.”

You look to where she’s holding Bradley by the bicep, then up at Bradley who’s confused and hopefully feeling your disappointment.

You roll your eyes, feeling the angry tears coming. “Whatever. You deserve her.”

You’re halfway to the tarmac when you feel a large hand wrap around your wrist. You’re spun around to face Bradley who looks confused.

“What’s your deal?” He asks. “I didn’t hear from you last night and you didn’t even tell me you left Hard Deck. And now, you’re acting all annoyed and lashing out on everyone.”

“No I’m not,” you respond.

“Don’t think on I didn’t notice your groaning all day, Y/N,” he scolds. “You’ve been on one all day. What’s wrong?”

You rub your nose angrily before shaking your head and turning away from him. “You. You’re what’s wrong.”

“Why?” Bradley’s brown eyes are soft, brows furrowed in confusion and you can’t help but feel the urge to slap the puppy dog eyes out of him.

“You broke our vow!” You spit. “You fucked Sunny even after you said you never would. And then on top of that, you didn’t notice I left or you did and you were too busy with Sunny to bother to text or call me to see if I was alright or if I got home.”

You were pacing, wildly waving your hands as you speak. “And what hurts the most is that you did that without batting an eye. I thought—”

You stop talking. You can’t bring yourself to admit what you’d been wanting to for the past few years you’d known Bradley. You loved him, and you thought he loved you back.

But you guess not.

“You thought what?” Bradley asks, shouting over the jets flying to the left of you. His brows were so furrowed, you thought they’d stay that way.

You take a few deep breaths, trying to regulate your anger and frustration.

“I thought you would’ve—,” you start to shout back, blinking back tears. “I thought you would’ve chosen me instead.”

Bradley only stares at you, shocked. You’re a good few paces away from him so you angrily shake your head, wipe your eyes with the back of your hands, and begin to walk away.

But his strong hand on your wrist stops you in your tracks.

“What makes you think I didn’t choose you?” Bradley asks.

“What’re you talking about?” You ask. “I saw you with Sunny.”

“Last night, nothing happened,” he tells you.

“What?”

He shakes his head, a small smile forming on his mustached face. “I took her home and then left. My phone died at the bar and I didn’t think you’d be awake when I got home.”

You only stare up at him.

“I was gonna check on you today, but you gave me the cold shoulder all morning,” he goes on.

“You didn’t sleep with her?” You ask.

“God, no,” he smiles.

That changed everything. If they didn’t sleep together, then what did he mean by choosing you?

“What did you mean,” you start. “About choosing me?”

“Y/N,” he starts, hand rising to cup your cheek. “Have you seriously not noticed?”

“Noticed what?” You ask.

“All I have are eyes for you. I have for a long time,” he tells you. “I’ve loved you from the moment I first met you. I’ll love you until my lungs give out. You’re mine, even if you don’t know or feel it. But you are.”

“I’m yours?” You ask, dumbfounded by his admission.

“Yes,” he laughs.

You smile, bringing your hand to his on your cheek. Happy tears fill your eyes as you tiptoe to kiss him, his mustache tickling your nose and making you smile into the kiss. Your heart lurches at the thought of Bradley loving you as long as you’ve loved him, the fact that you’re kissing him amplifying that feeling.

“Good, because I’m all yours,” you smile. “And you’re all mine.”

[endless-ineffabilities]

Chemical Override (bonus chapter 4) - Above The Gods Eye

Ewan Mitchell x actress!reader

a/n: I had envisioned bonus chapters as not too integral to the main plot (as in, you will be able to follow the story without reading them), but this one... this one might just count.

series masterlist ▪︎ main masterlist

A series of moments from the vault, occurring in part eight of the story, now yours to enjoy. 🤍

The one with the second sons…

The photoshoot has wrapped, and the cast of House of the Dragon has drifted into all corners of the set, exchanging laughs in between much-needed sips of caffeine. The next item on Entertainment Weekly’s agenda is the video segment recordings, pairing cast members for various games and interviews.

Fabien and Freddie finished their narrative recap of season 2, with more jokes than actual informative recaps. Harry and Bethany played a game where they guessed whether the line is from House of the Dragon or Game of Thrones. Tom and Emma played a ‘which sibling' game, leaning into the dynamic between Aegon and Rhaenyra that clearly should have been explored in previous seasons.

As it happens, Matt and Ewan are paired up for an Aemond or Daemon game, meant to give the audiences a glimpse of what to look forward to. Their notorious rivalry, culminating in a battle that will be their last. 

The two film their segment in Studio E, the set consisting of the great cellar of the Red Keep where Balerion’s massive skull looms on a pedestal. The dozens of candles surrounding it have been lit, casting dramatic shadows as they take their seats, facing each other in what could easily be mistaken for the start of a duel.

“My name is Ewan Mitchell and I play Aemond Targaryen,” Ewan starts.

“And I’m Matt and I play the Daemon Targaryen,” Matt follows. “And we’re about to play Second Sons: Aemond vs Daemon.”

“Let’s go,” Ewan rolls his shoulders, his sense of competitiveness all fired up, intensified by the fact that the man in front of him potentially could become his rival off-screen. That is, when it concerns the battle for your affections. 

He can still hear it ringing in his ears, the sound of your laughter in the background, distracting him during the photoshoot. That laugh, so addictive, so yours, was a melody he could listen to forever - except when it’s Matt Smith who’s the culprit. 

The lads take their cue to read the first prompt displayed on a screen above the camera. The game begins. 

“Who is the better swordsman?” Matt reads aloud with a smirk. “Well, that’s obviously Daemon, mate. He’s older - ”

“Age doesn’t always mean better,” Ewan counters smoothly.

“Ah, but he’s battle-tested. He fought in the Stepstones, and was the Commander of the City Watch, for heaven’s sake. What’s Aemond got?”

“Aemond spent years and years training with Criston Cole in the Red Keep yard, honing his skill,” Ewan argues. “He clearly has the dedication. He’s disciplined.”

“Training,” Matt scoffs, turning to the camera as if sharing an inside joke. “Put Aemond out there in a real battle, then we’ll talk.” 

“Alright, alright,” Ewan concedes, biting his cheek to keep from saying more. “Next one. Who’s the better dancer at the royal ball?”

Matt can’t help but chuckle, “Neither of us are inclined to - ”

“Yeah, I don’t know.”

“But if we had to pick, then I'd say Daemon. We saw him dancing in the first season, didn’t we?”

“I don’t think Aemond would be much of a dancer,” Ewan says, before adding with a smirk to the camera, “unless it’s with Vhagar.”

“Oh, yeah?” Matt asks him. “Short of dancing partners, is he? Can’t say I’ve got that problem. I’ve got Rhaenyra, I’ve got my daughters, and of course, the lovely Alyna.” His voice drops at the mention of your character, and he notices a telling flicker in Ewan’s expression. The younger boy latches on to it, hook, line and sinker. 

Ewan’s brows scrunch, not missing the bait. “Oh, she wouldn’t dance with you,” flies out of his mouth before he can stop himself.

“Alyna wouldn’t?” Matt tilts his head, feigning hurt. 

“She’s… she’s too busy fighting the war,” Ewan quickly musters. “She’s got better things to do.”

“Mate, I think we all are. But that wasn’t the question.”

“I just don’t think she - ”

“She’ll dance with Daemon,” Matt says confidently. “Once she realises how good he is, then it’s game over.”

“I disagree,” Ewan easily says to the camera, willing the viewers to side with him.

“Next,” Matt continues, “Who’s more likely to get into a fight at the tavern? Is this… so far, it's been all Daemon! This one too.”

Ewan nods, but adds slyly, “Aemond’s not one to waste his time at the tavern, no.” His answer is an apparent concession to Daemon, until he adds, “which is why Alyna would prefer to spend her time with him. He’s calmer… more reliable… no unnecessary tavern brawls or anything…”

“Calmer, mate?” Matt rolls his eyes, chuckling to himself. “Come off it, yeah?”

“Compared to Daemon, he clearly is.”

“He killed Luke and Rhaenys!”

“That was an accident,” Ewan shrugs. “He feels bad for it.”

“Alyna better steer clear,” Matt points to the camera, making his point. 

Ewan shakes his head in protest, “I don’t agree.”

“So, for this one, again, it’s Daemon,” Matt finishes. 

Ewan lets it go, the Alyna comment lingering in the back of his mind. It didn’t seem like an Alyna reference; it felt like a message to you. His stomach twists, suspicious of the other game Matt seems to be playing at. Turning to the prompter, Ewan reads, “Who’s got… the better hair care routine? Oh wow.”

“Daemon’s been at some dingy castle,” Matt says, “clearly no showers there. Forget it.”

“Aemond’s got this locked down,” Ewan grins.

“Has he? Alright then,” Matt responds, amused. “He does have that pin-straight hair, doesn’t he? It’s almost like… well it’s almost like it’s a bloody wig!” He laughs, and some of the onlookers behind the camera mirror the sentiment. 

“I did read somewhere about Aemond having a 20-step hair care routine… ”

“20 steps? Blimey, mate. I’m surprised he even makes it out the door,” Matt says. “Would you say he’s got better hair than the women on the show? Than Alicent or Alyna maybe?”

“Oh,” Ewan leans back, mulling it over. How to one-up Matt without making it seem too obvious? He’s about to respond, when he hears some soft giggling in the corner. It appears that you’ve made your way into Studio E with Phia and Liv. The sound came from Phia, who gives him a thumbs up when she notices his diverted attention. 

Matt notices your presence too, and when the director waves a hand for them to carry on, he answers for Ewan, “We could say Aemond has the better hair. Alyna’s way too busy training with Daemon anyway. We do tend to get into that rough and tumble during our sword fights.”

“Mmm,” Ewan narrows his eyes. He then ignores or conveniently forgets the fact that it’s Matt's turn to read the next question. “Who’s more likely to fight a dragon for their lover?” 

The two men lock eyes, the air between them charged, more so due to your appearance. If a rivalry is what the viewers expect, then that is what they’ll get. 

Matt puts a hand up. “I think Daemon’s the one with the guts to fight a bloody dragon. Daemon will stand against anything and anyone. Without a doubt.”

“It’s different with him, though, isn’t it?” Ewan responds. “Daemon would be doing it for the glory. He’d be doing it for himself. Whereas Aemond… he’d be doing it out of pure devotion.”

“Are you talking about the same devotion he had for his brother? I’d say he’s more likely to burn his lover to a crisp, than fight a dragon for her.”

“There is a completely different dynamic with his brother,” Ewan explains. “I think that when Aemond falls in love, there is nothing at all that he wouldn’t do for them. In season 2, we already kind of saw him leaning into this reputation of being the most wanted man in the realm. So… he’d fight anything for his lover, that’s for sure. He’d burn the seven kingdoms down if necessary.” He turns to look at the camera, but he catches your eye instead. You’re shaking your head slightly at his answer, but the small smile that graces your lips tells him that you enjoyed it. 

He simpers at your apparent show of approval, but Matt cuts the shared moment short. 

“I think Aemond’s a young buck,” Matt says, “who’s desperate to make his mark. He wouldn’t know the first thing about devotion. But Daemon… that’s been his internal struggle this whole time. He’s proven that he stands behind his brother and Rhaenyra, no matter how much he tries to act to the contrary. But yeah, we’re going a bit off track here. What was the question? Who’d fight a dragon… ”

“For their lover,” Ewan finishes. “I would still say Aemond. Daemon is too unpredictable.”

“Of course you’d say that,” Matt wags his eyebrows at him. “But I’m standing by my answer. We clearly saw Daemon basically pledge himself to Rhaenyra in the last episode. What more proof do you need?”

“Aemond’s got something up his sleeve,” Ewan says. “He just wants to be loved, that’s it, and when he finds that, there’ll be no question of what he’s capable of doing for Al - ” He catches himself at the last second, before he fully lets slip your character’s name. “I mean - ”

Matt’s eyes light up, sensing an opportunity. “For Alys, you mean?” To the camera, he adds, “spoiler alert, everyone.”

“Right,” Ewan lets out a breath, “Of course.”

“Can’t be anyone else,” Matt challenges him. 

“I don’t know for now,” Ewan tries to keep up. 

“You currently have a bit of a lack in the lover department,” Matt smirks. 

Ewan narrows his eyes at the apparent insinuation. He better be referring to the show. “Fine, then, we can give this one to Daemon. But as to their real-life counterparts,” he locks eyes with you again, “who’s to say? I bet I have this in the bag.”

Matt follows his line of sight, pleased when your attention switches to him. “I think that’s yet to be decided.”

“Alright, we’ve got some more,” Ewan quickly says, in an attempt to divert Matt’s gaze from you. 

Matt reads, “Who’s more likely to maintain a good social media presence? Oh, bloody hell, we’re crossing over into uncharted territory with this one.”

“That’s interesting.”

“I’ve never touched it myself,” Matt shrugs. “I’m not on anything, only Facebook for a moment ages ago, but I did not have any desire in going back. Oh wait, we’re meant to answer for our characters. Apologies.”

“Hmm,” Ewan nods. “I don’t know if Aemond would be on social media, no.”

“Yeah, this is a weird question,” Matt says. “Maybe Daemon then? But only to post pictures of Caraxes or something. What do you think?”

“Yeah, Daemon can take this one,” Ewan replies. “Personally, I’m not on social media too much - ”

“But didn’t you jump into the fray recently? With… which one was it?”

“Instagram? Yeah, yeah, that was something.” His mind flashes back to the pictures he had up, both attesting to his love for you. But you had asked him to take the latest one down, which led him to deactivate the account altogether. Temporarily. If the fans assumed that the action was meant to symbolise an end of his involvement with you, then now would be the perfect opportunity to prove them wrong. “I did have to take a step back, because it was kind of overwhelming. I just needed to take some proper time off.”

“Oh really? I wouldn’t know,” Matt says. “Did you actually share some photos there?”

Ewan smiles, pleased at being able to answer this question. “Yeah, I shared a few of my most treasured ones. They were some great pictures, but I’ve got loads more of the same in my phone, and I - ” He throws a warning glance to the camera “ - I think I’ll be keeping those to myself for now.”

Matt, oblivious as to what he’s hinting at, reads the next one. “Who’s the better brother?”

“Aemond for sure.”

“Clearly Daemon.”

And so the banter continues for a couple more prompts, sharp yet flowing naturally, foreshadowing the frenzied fan reactions when the segment is shared online for all to see. 

The one where Ewan needs his cowgirl…

Ewan paces around his dressing room, settling into his outfit, awaiting his cue from set. The outfit is a bold mix of traditional Western elements and high fashion: a tailored deep brown leather jacket with intricate embroidery, a crisp white shirt with ruffled cuffs, fitted trousers, and a wide-brimmed cowboy hat. His boots click against the wooden floor as he moves. He’s nervous but determined to impress you, even though it’s always been you with a knack for making his heart race.

After a while, he makes his way out of the dressing room and into the bustling set. The set is decked out to the theme. The director and crew are scattered all around, but Ewan focuses solely on finding you. 

When he finally does, his world seems to slow down. You are standing near a vintage saddle, dressed in your own Western-inspired attire. Your smile is radiant as you speak to your assistant, and the way your eyes light up when you see him makes his heart skip a beat. No, it never gets old, he realises, you will always have a maddening effect on him.

He takes a deep breath, squaring his shoulders, and saunters over with as much swagger as he could muster. “Howdy, darling,” he greets in his best cowboy lilt.

You look him up and down with a smile. “Why, hello, good sir,” you say, even doing a playful curtsy. 

“Ready to give them a show?” he asks, gesturing to the expanse of the set. Ready to be my cowgirl, darling? He wants to ask instead. 

You hum a response. “As I’ll ever be. I’d say you’re a natural at this whole cowboy thing.”

“Oh, darling,” he smirks, “you’d be surprised by what I can do with my lasso.”

“Down, Mitchell.”

“Whatever you want, my cowgirl.”

The atmosphere is electric throughout the shoot, with Ewan constantly leaning down to whisper suggestive lines in your ear. 

He finds himself getting lost in the intensity of the shoot, but his focus remains on you. It isn’t as if you are making it easy on him, with your lingering touches and flirtatious remarks. 

The camera's shutter clicks away, and Ewan and you pose for one perfect shot after another. The set is alive with activity, but he only sees you, the lighting casting a warm glow on your rouge-stained cheeks. Forgetting where he is for a moment, his hand reaches up to caress your face, and he leans in slightly. 

You pose accordingly, likely thinking that he’s just giving the shoot what it demands. 

“What was that you were saying about a lasso?” you smirk, in an attempt to diffuse the tension, but it only spurs him on. 

“Care for a demonstration?” he shoots back.

“Why not?” you reply easily, adjusting your stance. 

“We may need a more intimate setting for that, darling.”

“More intimate than this?” you laugh breathlessly, the warmth of it fanning his face. He’s close enough that the tip of his nose brushes against yours. 

He smiles, deaf to the low warning that escapes your lips when he leans in for a kiss on instinct. 

Just as his lips are about to graze yours, the director’s voice cuts through the charged silence.

“Cut! Break, everyone!”

The spell is broken instantly. Ewan pulls back, his expression shifting from one of intense concentration to surprise and a hint of frustration. 

You stand facing each other, flustered and left wanting. Ewan wants nothing more than to just reach for you and pull you in a closet, and show just how well he can use that bloody lasso. If you want him to. But he forces himself to croak, “To be continued, darling?”

You mirror his heated gaze, nodding once, before turning on your heel and heading to the break room. 

When the set is mostly emptied, Ewan picks up the hefty lasso that’s been put aside. With a determined look on his face, he swings it expertly through the air, causing a resounding thwack. The movement is deliberate, a release of his frustrations about you. About Matt. About everything. 

But it doesn’t quite bring him the relief he needs, because only you can offer that. 

It’s only ever been you. 

The one with the first date…

You glance at your phone to check the time, heart fluttering with anticipation. Matt had promised to pick you up at 2, and it is only a minute past, but you’re already standing nervously in your living room. Not a moment too soon, your buzzer alerts you of his arrival, and you press the button to allow him upstairs. 

You sneak one more glance at the mirror, smoothing a hand over your t-shirt and jeans. You opted for a casual look, dressed up with some jewelry and heeled boots. 

Finally, there’s a knock at the door and you grab your purse as you walk up to meet your awaited visitor. 

There he is, standing in the doorway, as impossibly charming as ever. Matt’s dressed in a perfectly fitted black shirt, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, revealing strong forearms, paired with staple dark jeans. His tousled hair looks like he ran a hand through it on his way over, and his signature mischievous grin plays at the corners of his mouth as he takes you in.

“Hello there,” he greets cheerfully.

“Hey, Smithy,” you blush under his gaze. 

“You look absolutely incredible,” he says, his gaze sweeping appreciatively over you, “As can be expected. You are my Alyna, after all.”

“Thanks,” you manage to say, your voice soft, almost breathless. “You don’t look too bad yourself.”

“Glad to hear it. I was worried I’d underdressed,” he teases, though the way he carries himself shows that he knows exactly how good he looks. He steps a little closer, his hand lightly grazing your arm as he does. 

“You ready to go?” he asks, his voice just a shade deeper, his eyes locked on yours with an intensity that still catches you off guard, no matter how exposed you have been to his charms.

“Yeah,” you nod, suddenly aware of how close you’re standing, the air between you thick with tension. “Let’s do this.”

The late afternoon air is crisp as you walk with Matt down a quiet street near Hyde Park. The anticipation from earlier has settled into something more relaxed, yet there’s still an undercurrent of excitement, an unspoken awareness of the new territory you’re both navigating.

Matt leads you to a small café tucked away from the bustle of the city. It’s quaint, with ivy creeping up the walls and soft lights glowing through the windows. As you step inside, the rich aroma of coffee and freshly baked pastries envelops you, and you can’t help but smile. The interior is just as charming as the exterior, and a few patrons sit scattered throughout, each absorbed in their own worlds. Too absorbed to notice two somewhat renowned actors entering the premises.

“Pick a spot,” Matt says, his hand gently brushing the small of your back. The touch is fleeting, but it’s enough to send a warm tingle up your spine.

You choose the table with a view of the park just beyond the glass. Ever the gentleman, Matt pulls out a chair for you before settling into the one across from you.

“Hope you like this place,” he says, his tone easy and genuine. “It’s one of my favourites. Feels like a bit of an escape from everything, you know?”

“It’s perfect,” you reply, taking in the cozy atmosphere. “I can see why you come here.”

A waitress comes over to take your order, and Matt gives you his recommendations which you happily go along with. The familiar way with which she addresses him as Mr. Smith confirms his frequent visits. Once she leaves, you lean back in your chair, letting yourself relax into the moment, though you are aware of his eyes watching you the entire time. 

“So, how are you finding the city? It’s different from set life, that’s for sure.” Matt asks, his eyes studying you with a mix of curiosity and something deeper. Something you can’t pinpoint just yet, though it’s not unfamiliar. You’ve seen that look before. From Ewan. The sudden thought of him drives a wedge in your focus, and you have to shake it off before you answer.

“It’s been great,” you say, smiling. “It’s nice to be able to explore it more this time around, since I've got some downtime. And, of course, the company’s been pretty good too.” You add the last part with a playful tone, which makes him chuckle.

“Oh, I’m sure it has,” he replies, a teasing glint in his eye. “But don’t let Ewan monopolise all your time. I’m around if you ever need a break from him.”

The mention of Ewan brings a subtle shift in the conversation. It’s light, but there’s a hint of something more - an awareness of the connection you share with Ewan that both complicates what you have, or what you could have, with Matt. 

“You’re a good friend, Matt,” you say, your tone still light but more sincere. “I appreciate that.”

He nods, a small smile playing on his lips, though there’s a flicker of something in his eyes. “Friend, sure,” he says, his voice low and smooth. “But, just so you know… I’m here, if you ever want more than that.”

It’s a simple statement, but the weight of it hangs in the air between you. He’s not pressing, not trying to make you uncomfortable, but it’s clear that he’s laying his cards on the table. Matt’s always had a way of being direct without being pushy, and this moment is no different.

You meet his gaze, feeling the sincerity behind his words. There’s a part of you that’s tempted, drawn in by the way he makes you laugh and feel seen. But there’s something - someone - holding you back. 

“I’ll keep that in mind,” you reply, smiling softly. 

Matt nods again, his smile resurfaces, as sure as the sun rising. “That’s all I ask.”

The waitress returns with your coffee and pastries, breaking the tension with the clink of cups and the sweet scent of buttery croissants. 

After a moment, Matt takes a sip from his own cup and raises an eyebrow. “You know, I heard that drinking coffee in a café like this can increase your charm significantly. I think it’s working, do you?”

You play along, pretending to consider this. “Hmm, I don’t think you need help in that department. But… I’ll still be careful. Just in case you charm me into agreeing to a second date.”

Matt leans closer with a grin. “Second date? Love, if I’m being honest, I’m already planning our third date.”

The conversation shifts back to lighter topics - your favourite places in the city, funny stories from the set, and his many revealing anecdotes about Fabien. Like the one where he got properly sloshed after a night out at the pub, so much so that he stuck some croissants in his washing machine thinking it was the oven. 

“To his defense,” Matt exclaims as you giggle uncontrollably, “the two appliances are similarly shaped!”

As the date progresses, you feel undeniably warm and comfortable in Matt’s presence, but you also can’t ignore the lingering thoughts of Ewan. Your phone had buzzed at some point, and when you snuck a glance at the screen, it lit up to reveal three missed calls from Ewan One-Eye. He knows you’re on a date, so he must be interrupting on purpose. Thankfully, Matt’s enthusiastic regaling keeps you from lingering on Ewan - from worrying about him, missing him… from wishing that he could freely allow himself to take you on a date just like this. 

As you and Matt stroll back to your apartment, the city lights cast a warm glow on the pavement, creating a magical backdrop for the end of your evening. His arm around your shoulders brings you a sense of ease, and you no longer feel that nervous flush as earlier. 

He walks with you inside your building, and when you reach the door to your apartment, Matt pauses by the entrance, turning to face you with a gentle smile. “Well, this has been quite the evening,” he says. “I’m really glad we got to do this.”

You return his smile. “Me too. It’s been a lovely night.”

There’s a moment of hesitation, a shared look that speaks volumes without words. 

“Well, I - ” you swallow, your nerves returning, “I better head inside.”

As you reach for your keys, Matt’s hand gently wraps around yours, causing a jolt of electricity to travel up your arm. “Before you do,” he says, his voice dropping to a husky whisper, “there’s something I’ve been wanting to do all night.”

You look up at him. Screw your newfound sense of ease. Your heartbeat now pounds in your ears like an erratic drum. “Oh? And what’s that?” But something tells you that you know just what he means. 

Without breaking eye contact, Matt leans in slowly, his face drifting closer.

“This,” he mumbles the word as if it's the most obvious thing in the world. And then his lips touch yours.

Taglist: @namelesslosers @skymoonandstardust @valyrianflower @luckyfirebasement @omgsuperstarg @elissanatok @callsignwidow @sinistersnakey49 @darkwriteracademia @yyrzmomo @queenofshinigamis @luvaerina @shamelessblazecrown @mirandastuckinthe80s @elleinex0x0 @pierrotlu @aegonswife @strangersunghoon @lunampacheco @writer-ann-artist @gaiaea @of-swords-and-words @ateliefloresdaprimavera @m00n5t0n3 @helaenaluvr @peachysunrize @annie-ruk @luvly-writer @ananas26t @athenafaes @lovelyteenagebeard @mamawiggers1980 @moongirl27 @katherine93 @barnes70stark @justbelljust @cloudroomblog @somestufftoday @esposadomd @girl-in-the-chairs-void @insideyourimagination @vyctorya @wildrangers @onlyrealjoy @hotdismylife @thepurplecrown @just-fics-station @clarkysblog @urmomsgirlfriend1 @misfitbimbosblog (continued in comments ... )

Some notes in the margins...

This poll caused quite the stir amongst yous, I see. Consider me amused. Since part 9 isn't out yet, and my mind isn't set either - if you've got something to let off your chest, some supporting arguments, you've got one more chance to let me know below (or let each other know) 😉 I always read all your opinions, and they are properly taken into account. What did you think of Matty after this?

When Ewan called her at the end of part eight, do you think she had company? Anyway, something sweet is coming in part nine with Ewan and his darling!

To those who are seriously worried about the outcome, note that is and always has been a Ewan x reader fic. I am a Ewan girl just like yous. Hold fast and have fun on the wild ride, darlings 💙

[palajae]

nevertheless…

PAIRING... heeseung x reader | GENRE... established relationship! au, fluff, humor, romance | WC... 0.4k | "there’s no freaking way."

“seungie~” you drawl on, excitedly hopping into your boyfriend’s room. 

he hums in response, eyes still focused on the screen in front of him. you pay no heed to him, instead plopping down on his plush bed. however, in your hands lies a precious item. 

“i finally got your new album!” 

this time heeseung turns to look at you, amused at your excitement. he cocks an eyebrow, “oh really?”

you nod vigorously, hands scratching at the plastic wrap. 

“i wanted to open it with you.” 

he chuckles, “i hope you like it.” 

“of course i’m gonna like you,” you roll your eyes while taking off the cover. nothing beat the smell and feel of a fresh album—especially your boyfriend’s, at that. 

heeseung’s attention returns to his game as you flip through the photobook, occasionally letting out sounds of approval and awe. 

it’s not until you dramatically clap a hand over your mouth that heeseung finally stops his game. 

“there’s no freaking way.” 

even though your voice is muffled, heeseung can hear the evident shock. he immediately takes off his headphones, controller falling to the floor. 

“what? baby, what is it?” 

you look up—was that tears in your eyes?—before scrambling off the bed. 

his eyes narrow before they focus in on what was in your hand. 

“is that-“

“i got jungwon’s photocard!” you dance around the room, happiness clearly present on your face and by your actions. 

your boyfriend (not jungwon) is left speechless. 

it’s been five minutes and you haven’t stopped staring at the photocard.  

“i think i’m gonna put it in the back of my phone case…”

“baby?”

“or should i just leave it-“

“baby!” 

heeseung’s voice startles you. he usually never raised his voice. 

“yeah?” 

he pinches his nose bridge in disbelief before speaking up, “are you serious?”

you look at him straight in the eyes, “uh, yeah. why?” 

heeseung lets out a deep sigh like he’s been at sea for 40 years. “you’re that happy that you got a jungwon photocard?”

you look at him sheepishly, “if it makes you feel any better, i got your postcard?” 

he can only blink. and then laugh at the situation, shaking his head. whatever made you happy, he supposed. 

your boyfriend gets up to kiss your forehead. “fine. congrats on pulling jungwon, i guess. as long as he doesn’t replace me in real life.” 

you scoff, “as if. i got the real deal—the whole package! you’re way better than the blurry half-face selfies you post in bed for the fans.” 

heeseung bursts out laughing, staring at you fondly. “i’ll take that as a compliment.” 

you place a small peck on his shoulder, “good. because i lied.”

heeseung frowns, “what?” 

“i got jake’s postcard, not yours...”

“that son of a-“

a/n ▸ can you tell i wrote this ages ago for enha’s cb 💀💀 anyways, i just wanted to say thank you x928384 for 2000 followers like WHAT i am eternally in shock..!! i never thought i would have made it this far when i first joined, so im immensely grateful and ily all❤️

MAIN TAGLIST ▸ @precioussoulofmine @kynrki @heesterical @jungwonize @nvertheless @duolingofanaccount @hoeshii @love-4-keum @luvhyun3 @dimplewonie @yjjungwon @who-tf-soddhi @microwvdstrawb3rri3s @asteria-wood @noajakah236482 @enhacatalog @june-pop @ohsjy @ashtxrie @isoobie

@lvyvsrk1

@kflixnet

[woso-dreamzzz]

Injured (Alexia's Version) II

Alexia Putellas x Teen!Reader

Summary: Alexia comes home from work

Alexia comes in from a long day of coaching to find carnage in the house but no more than usual.

Jaume's muddy football boots are scattered in the entrance hall along with his school bag and his training bag. His jacket is thrown callously on the ground and she can just make out the dishes he hasn't cleaned up from his afternoon snack on the kitchen counters.

Her son is found in the living room, whirred into a game of FIFA and talking into his headset to his friends.

Your own ballet bag sits at the bottom of the stairs and Alexia can hear rhythmic thumping from your bedroom. She pops the door open and throws your bag onto the bed.

You're sitting at your desk, breaking in your pointe shoe by thwacking it against the corner of your study space. You're attacking the shank of your shoe viciously while your other one lays perfectly broken in next to you.

You've raided the sewing box too, a needle already threaded so you can sew on your ribbons as soon as you're done breaking in your second shoe.

"Did that one do something to you?" Alexia says and you jolt in shock, not having realised she came in.

"Yeah," You reply with a wry smile," It didn't come broken in." You whack it one final time against your desk and test its flexibility, finally content and get to work sewing your ribbons onto the shoes.

"You left your bag by the stairs," Alexia says and you roll your eyes.

"Jaume left his stuff all over the house," You reply," He's so messy."

"He's a boy. Boys are messy."

"Have you made him clean it up yet?"

"I'm letting him finish his FIFA match. It might embarrass him in front of his friends."

You roll your eyes again, tying off your first ribbons before moving onto the second. "They're so annoying."

"They're hormonal," Alexia replies. She takes your other shoe and starts sewing a set of ribbons on. "They'll grow out of it."

"Can they grow out of it now?" You mutter," I'm sick of them watching me."

Alexia freezes, like a pail of icy water has been thrown on top of her. Her mouth goes dry. "What?"

You give her a look. "Huh?"

"What do you mean they're watching you?"

You shrug. "I don't know. They're hormonal boys. I'm Jaume's older sister." You wrinkle your nose. "They say gross things sometimes. It's not a big deal."

Alexia hates that aspect of you. You're so resigned to the concept that it is what it is. You had problems like this when you were younger too, merely accepting bullying and rude words at you because you didn't think it would matter if you tried to fight it.

It's something that Alexia's never managed to snap you out of but she never thought that she would see it in a situation like this.

"What kinds of things?"

You frown at her. "I thought you knew."

"No! Is that why you didn't tell me?"

You shrug. "I thought if you were fine with it happening then I should be fine with it happening."

"No...Bambi...You should never think that those kinds of things are okay. They're not and if it happens again, you come to me right away."

You nod, not fully convinced. "Okay, Mami."

"Hey," She says," Put on your shoes. We're overdue a catch up."

Alexia's busy coaching at Barcelona most days. She's almost always working but she tries to find the time for you and Jaume both together and alone. It used to be a tradition that she would take you out once a week by yourself to 'catch up' but work has been so busy these past few weeks so you're long overdue some one-on-one time together.

"I'm sewing my ribbons!" You complain and Alexia fondly ruffles your hair.

"And you can take a break. You've just come from a full day of dancing. Go put on comfortable shoes. You can sew your ribbons tonight."

You huff but do what you're told.

Alexia goes back downstairs, switching the tv off.

"Mami!" Jaume complains, pulling down his headset," I was in the middle of a match!"

She gives him a pointed look. "And your stuff is in the middle of my house."

"I'll pick it up later."

"You'll pick it up now," Alexia says," This isn't your room, Jaume. I like my house to be tidy."

He huffs and moves to get up.

"And tell your friends to stop saying foul things to your sister."

He freezes, every muscle in his body going rigid and stiff. "What?"

"I know what teenage boys are like, Jaume, and I understand peer pressure and not saying anything so you can fit in but this isn't school. Your sister deserves to come home and feel safe."

"It...It was just jokes, Mami."

"Was it? You may think they were joking but were they actually?"

Jaume's face grows a little confused. "But they had to be! There's...There's no way they'd come to our house and...and say those things to her and actually mean them! Right? Mami, right?"

"Jaume..." Alexia sighs. It's clear to her now that Jaume genuinely had no idea that his friends could actually mean what they said. Alexia takes some comfort in knowing that, at least, Jaume hadn't done this out of spite or any other malicious feeling towards you. "Even if they were jokes, your sister doesn't need to be made fun of in her own house. If you let them get away with stuff now then they're just going to keep building and building and building on it until it's too late to stop them."

"Mami..." Jaume looks heartbroken now, glancing up the stairs where he knows you're doing something in your room. "They...She...Is she okay?"

"I'm taking your sister out," Alexia says," She's had a long day at practice and she needs some time to decompress, okay? Can I trust you to clean up your stuff and get started on your homework?"

He nods.

"Good boy." Alexia kisses his forehead. "Your Mama should be home soon. No tv until your work is done."

"Okay, Mami."

Jaume sits himself at the kitchen table, going through a mind-numbingly boring Physics worksheet when you come down.

"Ready to go?" Alexia asks and you nod.

"Hey, wait!" Jaume calls out and you stop, turning to look at you. "I love you."

You frown in confusion. "I love you too."

"Good," He says," I mean, it's good that you know that I love you." He nods several times and a small bubble of laughter erupts from you.

Jaume grins like he just won the lottery and Alexia trusts in her son to lay down the law with his friends.

She guides you out the door and to the car, driving down to some quaint café that's opened up nearby.

"A milkshake?" Alexia offers after you've found a table," I heard from Mapi that they do those big monster ones with a cupcake stabbed through the straw."

"Mami," You admonish," I still have dance tomorrow."

"Hmm," Alexia says," You're right. It's probably too big for one each. We can share."

"Mami!" You laugh," I'm trying to stay healthy. The Spring Season starts soon. We have performances to do."

Alexia reaches over to pinch your cheek and you roll your eyes. "Well, I'm your Mami and I say it's okay. You know, I'm quite wise."

"Fine," You say," But if we're getting a milkshake then let's get the red velvet one."

"Whatever you want, bambi."

Alexia orders some cupcakes and a cookie with it and rolls her eyes as you mock complain with no actual annoyance in your tone.

"Now," She says," I've spoken to your brother and he's going to sort his friends out or else."

You roll your eyes, poking at your food. "It's fine. I can deal with it."

"You shouldn't have to deal with it." Alexia reaches across the table for your hand. "Boys will be boys but that doesn't mean they should be saying those things to you. I...I just...Bambi why didn't you tell me?"

You bit the inside of your cheek, eyes darting to the side.

"Bambi," Alexia says again," Come on. You can tell me things, you know that, right?"

You nod. "I just...I was worried that I was being silly. That..." You shrug. "You know, you would think I was overreacting. It shouldn't bother me as much as it is. They're just stupid boys."

"Boys are always stupid," Alexia says decisively," And I don't think you're overreacting. It's going to be sorted out. If Jaume doesn't then I will."

She speaks so firmly that you can't help but agree, saved from replying by your mouth full of cake.

You still look a little awkward talking about it though so Alexia pivots the conversation away.

"So," She asks," What ballet is it this season?"

You're not usually talkative about the ballets you're practising, preferring it to be a surprise when you gift the family tickets to opening night but with the season approaching, you don't mind as much.

"First half of the season is La Sylphide," You say, sipping on the straw of the milkshake," Second half is Giselle."

Those words mean nothing to Alexia but you look excited so she decides to be excited for you.

Your cheeks go a little red and you pick at your cake. "Actually...I...er..."

"Is something wrong?"

"No...I...Do you remember when I told you that a few of our soloists got injured?"

Alexia racks her brain. "I think so. You said it was after the Nutcracker performances, right?"

You nod. "Well, they're still not back and the balletmaster decided to start doing understudies in case of injuries and sickness."

Alexia nods along. It's a smart choice, like rotating the players in a team.

You don't look at her, staring down at your plate.

"They're guaranteed one night though, you know, as the lead."

"Okay?"

"Mami, I'm playing Giselle."

Alexia chokes. "What?"

You finally look up at her. "I'm playing the lead, Mami."

"I..." Alexia whips out her phone. "What day is it? I need to check I'm not busy. No, I'll rearrange my meetings if I am. Oh, we'll have to call your Abuela and your Tia. Oh! And Mapi too! Jenni, as well." She starts typing away at her phone. "Wait, let me just text Olga. We'll have to get Jaume a proper outfit if you're going to play lead. And-"

"Mami," You cut her off though your voice is soft and quiet," It's not that big of a deal."

"Not that big of a deal?!" Alexia scoffs," You're seventeen years old, playing the lead in a professional ballet company! How could you keep this a secret?! Oh, bambi, we have to sort out tickets. What day did you say it was?"

You laugh. "I didn't, Mami."

Alexia crams the rest of her cake into her mouth. "We have to get home. We have to tell Jaume and Olga!" She looks at you for a moment. "So grown up! My little baby, playing the lead!"

You slouch in your seat. "Mami, calm down. It's for one night. People are staring."

"Up! Up!" Alexia insists," Come on! What do you want for dinner?"

"Mami-"

"You choose. Anything! Anything you want!"

"Mami-"

"What about that fancy place near Alba's house? I think I can get us a reservation."

"Mami!"

"Sorry, bambi. What did you want?"

"Can I just have a hug?"

Alexia pulls you into a hug, cradling the back of your head with her hand. "You make me so proud, bambi. I love you so much."

[vibingandsimping]

Random sfw + nsfw thoughts/headcanons for randomly assorted characters from BG3! Excuse any grammatical errors or poor phrasing… it is nearly midnight and I got off work.

Send requests or thoughts in my ask box. It will always be open!

Forewarnings/tags: Trying to keep this gender neutral… mentions of sweat/scent, blood-drinking, possession/control, some tooth-rotting fluff, fingering (receiving + giving), oral (receiving), hate-fucking, some ass-play mentions?, nipple-play, dirty talk, degrading, praise, validation.

Characters involved… Astarion, Wyll + Gortash

Astarion,

If you have warm-blood… such as a living creature. He adores that- his fingers trail along the expanse of your skin and if you could see his eyes you’d swear his name made sense. It has been so long since he had his own warm skin. Since Cazador stripped him of his innocence and life. He lives vicariously through your body. He may be dead but you breathe life into him and he swears his cold-heart no longer beat still.

He admires your features. The more unconventional ones. Like the wrinkles in your skin, the uglier scars that line your flesh. Moles, freckles, stretch marks… they all remind him of how uniquely alive and different you are. He’d kiss each one if you’d let him as his tongue singed praises.

He’d craft you a perfume or cologne to your scent. His senses are heightened as a vampire. He’s pressed his nose against the crook of your flesh more times than he could count. He’s smelt your skin and sweat… all of your essence. He has tasted and inhaled the scent of your blood. With that information, he presents you a mixture of herbs and other properties. Once applied to your skin, it illuminates your personality. Truly, as he said, he missed his calling.

As we all know… this man loves to bite. It is a form of dominance as well intimacy. Your vulnerability and his stake of claim as well as acceptance. You do not truly understand the importance behind the act. He never fed on humanoids until you. You were the sweetest he’d ever tasted… and will ever truly taste. The fact you’d give yourself so willingly gives him a feeling of superiority. As well as a lighter, chest tightening feeling of belonging. As much as you belonged to him, he was also yours.

He truly loves to delve into your pleasure. As much as he is fond of using his tongue… to break you apart with simply his mouth. Watch you crumble and cry from betwixt your thighs, there is also an unremarkable excitement in his fingers. Filling you and stretching you with them. Working to angle and prod the most sensitive parts whilst his tongue slides against yours or along your neck. Licking at the wounds from his feedings. To hear you cry so deliciously from just the thickness and persistence of his fingers strokes his ego. He knows he will fuck you dumb unto his cock.

A shorter smut headcanon but I do believe he’d love cumming on your skin. Your face, chest (particularly loves giving you a pearl necklace, he thinks you look dashing), stomach, thighs… any skin that is available, honestly. There is a strange sense of pride for him in it. To see you covered in him. He also loves to cum inside. Either works, honestly, as long as it is you.

Wyll (this guy has no fics about him. Step up y’alls game)

A true gentleman. He grew up as a son of royalty… what do you expect? If you guys ever had a proper date, he’d dress no less to impress the finest. Honestly, it makes you feel so utterly underdressed. He adorns a wonderful cologne. It is reminiscent of leather, warm spices and a sweeter scent like honey. His vest has gold detailing along a beautiful maroon. Still, in his eyes you are the most stunning thing he’s ever seen. No matter how fancy you dressed. He cannot keep his eyes off you, truly.

We all know he loves to dance. It is something he praises in his dialogue. Still, he wishes no more than to dance with you. If you can or cannot dance, it doesn’t matter. He will teach you the rhythm and steps if you have two left feet. Each time you trip or fall, he simply quirks a smile and offers a hand. He does not judge, only finds some amusement in how adorable he finds you. If you know how to dance? How delightful. He will play some faint music to follow along too. His hand rested along the small of your back and his fingers intertwined with yours. Dipping you and guiding you as the music fades away and you’re left with the trance of his loving gaze.

As much as he is a gentleman, I think he’d love harmless pranks. Gentle teasing of your character to see your frustrations and shock. He’d ‘misplace’ an item of yours to see you scour in confusion. Then, when you look at him, he is holding it out with a devious little smirk. He lets out a chuckle when you stomp over and nearly cuss him out. He loves every side of you and you know that it’s lighthearted fun… and god damn is it hard to hold a grudge when he has a smile like that. Curse him, truly.

He is a simple man, honestly. He takes pleasure in what you take pleasure in. Will indulge your desires and kinks as long as they aren’t particularly destructive. Though, he does have a little… interest. He proposes it one day with some nerve, or, you happen to stumble on it yourself. Nonetheless, he enjoys his ass being prodded during oral. You noticed when a fondling hand upon his balls drifted and brushed against his hole. He stiffened and let out a strained noise. You brushed it again before discovering it was one of pleasure. With that information, do as you will. Just know that it makes him release much easier than he intends. He finds it a dirty (although frustratingly pleasurable) trick when you go down on him.

He enjoys toying with your nipples while either betwixt your thighs or wrapped around you. There is a certain look you hold when his thumbs squeeze and roll them. You arch your back a little more and your thighs quiver as the pleasure shoots between them and enhance what he was giving you. It was truly a sight and he didn’t even have to say anything for you to unravel just the way he’d like. Don’t think it’s just hands, either. He’ll glide his tongue along them, sucking and nibbling til he is assured you’re enjoying it.

Gortash (I’m a dirty Gortash lover… sue me. Durge will get some content later, I swear)

Starting off with the normal Tav… If you manage to ‘fix’ him in a sense, he admires your persistence and patience with him. He had a troubled past that he overlooked and developed some… issues from. Yet, it was your kindness and guidance that led him to stopping the Absolute and creating a better city. He is not perfect, by far. Enver is still a controlling man. He needs some sort of power and dominance to soothe his mind. Though, he does not use fear to control his citizens anymore. He’s truly impressed by the way you swayed him. You can see it in the way he gazes at you sometimes. There is certain softness as his hand grasps yours and he looks to you for reassurance in a moment of vulnerability. He needs you to keep him in reigns.

He loves holding you from behind and to bury his face into your neck. The crook between your head and shoulder holds such warmth and a smell that is yours. It reminds him of the path he has chosen… and the person he gets to cherish for it. He places his hands onto your stomach and allows his sharp, metal nails to tease the skin. To remind you of the still powerful man whose giving up such command and control to you. Someone who grounds him. He might even hum into your skin in content if you do not push him away. Honestly, you will eventually. He could cling onto you like a koala of you did not stop him. He murmurs into your skin about how you two rule this kingdom… and one day you’ll be officially betrothed to him. The thought of him proposing and taking your hand in marriage makes your heart flutter.

Although he is so soft with you, he fucks you like he hates you. His cock battering your walls and filling you up so painfully full. He is thick- and makes your mind melt as he stretches you unlike you’ve known. He may not be particularly the longest but he does not lack length. Sadly, foreplay isn’t the best thing he’s at. You can blame it for his inflated ego and quick beds over the years. If you ruined his initial plans and had him submit the Absolute, he seethes in your ear about it. As much as he is a changing man, there is a part deep down that will resent that fact for awhile. He could’ve had everything he’d ever wanted as a boy. “Look at you, such a dirty thing. Soiling my plans, stomping into my heart… and now you’re sprawled on my sheets pathetically.”

When you finally convince or wrangle him into going down on you, it’s a sight. A mess of black hair and hands wrapping around your thighs. His tongue works rapidly, lavishing you in slightly inexperienced licks. Sucking at your sensitive parts before returning to ravishing you with his tongue. It is not that he hasn’t gone down before in all his years… it’s that his ego was so inflamed that he never truly thought or cared for it before you. He’s willing to try and work on better things just for you. As such, this is a way of showing his commitment to you. Not only to indulge in his pleasures but to show he cares about yours.

[robinsfilm]

⌕ search result ＞ ʬʬ dc/reader. ＞ five tabs open !

⎙ tab. 01 ░ jason todd/reader ⤸

⟢ one-shots ⤸

ʬʬ rouge in his hands | smut

There you stand, on the edge of the dance floor. The golden filigree of the ivory floor glows beneath your feet. The crystal chandelier casts a shimmering light upon your dewy skin. The rouge-colored velvet fabric flows across your frame like waves in a calm sea.

He almost chokes on his breath.

ʬʬ coffee and pistols for two? | fluff

His intrusive thoughts wrap around his mind and blinden his eyes like a blindfold, cutting off his senses in a way that he doesn’t notice the shuffling of your feet against the wooden floor, he doesn’t notice you now standing in front of him. He hears you first.

ʬʬ tangled in red | fluff

Your hands grip the jacket closer as you curl into the leather even more, taking in the warmth and feel of him. Red. On you. His red.

ʬʬ tricks, treats and together | fluff

request: Jason and Reader take Damian trick-or-treating and get mistaken for as his parents.

ʬʬ 16, clumsy and shy | fluff

“Searching for something?—” Jason's ears perk up as he hears Bruce's calculated words. Calculated in a way he knows that his dad is trying not to sound obvious that he has figured out the fact that something or a certain someone is tugging at his son's heart. “—or someone?”

ʬʬ a sight so sweet | fluff

request: hello! i went to a party today and i kept thinking about jason. well, i think he'd be the kind of partner who'd watch you from afar to make sure you're okay, he'd definitely have access to your location 24 hours for his own peace of mind. ... anyway, could you write something based on that? xx

ʬʬ you're my man (of bright light) | fluff

request: Okay, but Jason taking the his secret girlfriend to the fair, they're having a good time playing games, winning prizes, eating funnel cake, when they run into the bat fam.

ʬʬ oh, take me back (to the night we met) | angst + comfort

request: Reader meets/is with Jay after he becomes Red Hood. After finding out that he used to be Robin, she recalls an interaction she had years ago with the Boy Wonder, unaware that they would paths again years later.

ʬʬ tongue tied | fluff

request: Reader teasing Jason over his blushing. You can decide whether they're in an established or pre-established relationship.

ʬʬ damsels in distress | fluff

request: hi there! was wondering if you could write a lil something about reader consuming a bunch of horror movies and getting scared and jason ends up teasing reader for it?

ʬʬ hero for a day | fluff

Jason's—or rather, the Red Hood's—all-too-recognizable helmet rests temptingly on the dresser. A little too temptingly. An idea quickly forms in your mind—a truly devious idea.

ʬʬ lilac-blossoms & book stands | fluff

"Though, after I read this and you finish your book, I'd love to hear what you think." Your hands grip the book tighter, you're so nervous. Calm down. "Same place? In a few weeks, maybe?" "O–oh, I will, I mean." He straightens his posture, "I mean, of course."

ʬʬ plushies & cuddles | fluff

The realization that a plushie was currently hoarding his well-deserved cuddles after a long day didn’t sit right with him.

ʬʬ cookies & bake-offs | fluff

It's the faint sound of your soft voice humming that catches his attention first. His ears perk up, and he turns his head toward the sound. Then, the faint smell of warm chocolate fills his nose. You must be baking.

ʬʬ furry new beginnings | fluff

Jason stared at the tabby for a few moments, then at you, with your big smile and pleading eyes staring back at him.

ʬʬ carnation letters | fluff

For you, those gestures came in the form of carnations, delicate and vibrant, appearing at the most unexpected times.

ʬʬ poisoned wells | angst

"Sometimes being offered tenderness feels like the very proof that you've been ruined." – Ocean Vuong, On Earth We're Briefly Gorgeous

ʬʬ offered tenderness | fluff

He thanked you every time in his mind for trusting him with this piece of you.

⟢ drabbles ⤸

ʬʬ demisexual + touchstarved ! jason todd

ʬʬ up late at night

⟢ prompts ⤸

ʬʬ frozen peas pressed against bruised skin | fluff

ʬʬ folktale | fluff

⟢ blurbs ⤸

ʬʬ phantom of the opera ! jason todd

⟢ headcanons ⤸

empty.

⎙ tab. 02 ░ damian wayne/reader ⤸

⟢ headcanons ⤸

ʬʬ how he loves | fluff

request: hi author!! wanted to just make an ask to see if you would write something with damian? if it's okay with you, may it be sfw and romantic? hc's or not, whatever you prefer!!

⎙ tab. 03 ░ dick grayson /reader ⤸

currently empty.

⎙ tab. 04 ░ tim drake/reader ⤸

currently empty.

⎙ tab. 05 ░ duke thomas/reader ⤸

currently empty.

⟢ miscellaneous ⤸

moodboards

batfamily twitter au

© ROBINSFILM ﹕ I do not give consent for my writing to be posted or used on any other platforms without my permission and proper credit.

[valvewall]

Izuku's Clingy-ness Pt. 2

part 1 here!

Izuku Midoriya x Girlfriend/Fem! Reader

warning: Clingybf! Izuku, cuteness, sneaking to other's dorms in the middle of the night to sneakily gain some cuddles, cuddling! of course, daily dose of dopamine, kissing evil giggle.

a/n: wrote this on a plane and writing this high as FUCK off of medicine I took the entire 8 hour trip. I feel great and very woozy. also I bought a new bonnet. Will they ever release a Rei Todoroki figure? I want to put Dabi and her next to eachother, mom and son bonding time... ignoring canon as long as possible.

Beta Read by 'where in the hell is my Beta Reader?'

You quietly snuck into the dorms, holding in your laughter as you saw Mina and Kirishima huddled up, passed out on the couch. Nobody needed to live in the dorms anymore, however most did anyways. It just felt right after everything.

Your day was hectic to say the least. With your relative texting you about needing a babysitter ASAP and not knowing who else to text that she could trust her boys with. And of course, you couldn’t turn her down. You could always catch up on notes anyday, while she couldn't leave the boys alone for one hour unless they were asleep or practicing their quirks.

It wasn’t as easy as most babysitters made it seem, but it wasn't unexpected. With them wanting to go to the park, then to an ice cream truck and then to a game store. It was a pain on your legs, and only reminded you of how much better you would've felt if you just said 'I can't, I'm sorry!'

Snapping back to reality. You continued on the way to your room, you stumble across Tokoyami huddled like a sewage rat in the kitchen, sneaking in a late night snack. Is... that a frozen rat... eugh... After an awkward amount of eye contact that you would like to forget about, you continued on your journey to your humble abode. Hoping to forget your terrors of roommates.

As you reached your door, it creaked open, reminding you of needing to oil it incase you and Izuku get caught doing these late night sleepovers, where you just slept and didn't infact play Just Dance at 2 in the morning and have an angry 2B student knocking on your door.

Now however, you were back at the dorms, ready to crash.

The room was dark, and the sheets unmade, different from how you left it before, your boyfriend had already gone to sleep on your way back. Despite his whining, you didn’t come back til late into the night. “Izu?” You whispered into the darkness of the room. “Mn.” The green haired man replied, his hair all messy and half of his face a soft pink due to the pillow.

You smiled, kicking off your shoes and walking over to the bed, lifting up the covers and looking down at him. “Mn… Baby?” Izuku opened his eyes, staring up at you through the dark, electric green eyes dancing with yours. “Hi Izuku.” You smiled, taking off your shirt and slipping into bed.

Izuku closed his eyes again and wrapped his arms around your neck, entangling his legs with yours. “… I missed you.” You chuckled, planting kisses on his cheek. “I heard, Mina told me all about how you were moping around all day as the guys dragged you out of the dorms.” Hearing of that, a small blush creeped up on his face, a small thread of embarassment sinking into his brain.

“… Do you need the notes for tomorrow?” Izuku mumbled asking as he buried his head in the crevice of your neck. You hummed, your hands playing with his hair, detangling all of the knots he has yet to brush out. You yawned, stretching your body making Izuku groan. “Maybe. Was it the same stuff from last week?” Izuku shook his head. “No, we are going over rescue operations.” Well fuck. You sighed and curled yourself tighter around Izuku. “Well screw me, I guess. Yeah I’ll need the notes…”

Izuku planted soft kisses against your neck then smiled. “I missed you, thank you for coming back.” You hummed, slowly falling to sleep listening to his soft breathing.

all dividers unless stated otherwise are made by @strangergraphics

[aimedis]

milo as a dad headcanons (+sweetheart) !!

milo and sweetheart have twin sons (am i milking the redacted boys w twins headcanon?)

Dad Milo who was, unsurprisingly, very nervous to be a dad because of his own father but was also worried about his child(ren) growing up with a Department worker

But they both handled it with so much grace

Dad Milo who almost passed out when they found out he was having twins

Parents Milo and Sweetheart whose twins are literally identical and are nearly impossible to tell apart aside from the fact that the oldest's hair is longer than the youngest's (even before they got hair, Milo and Sweetheart could tell them apart easily) 

The twins have an attitude that rivals Milo and Sweetheart's combined (so much so that Sweetheart has threatened to beat their ass) ((does not believe in hitting them though)) 

Parents Milo and Sweetheart who swear in front of their kids but respect that other parents don't want that around their kids (the swearing doesn't make their kids scared of them at all)

Parent Sweetheart who is generally a pretty gentle parent, the slightly vulgar language is only used when the twins are being excessively difficult for the sake of being difficult 

Dad Milo who is insanely protective of his kids (but not in an overbearing way, in the ‘if you hurt my kids you’re dead’ way) 

Sweetheart the workaholic who has literally left work hours earlier to get their oldest a cake pop after he called from Milo’s phone

Dad Milo whose lockscreen is a picture of the twins sitting on the kitchen counter with ice-cream all over their faces

Dad Milo who almost cries when he holds his son as he screams bloody murder while getting vaccinations

Dad Milo who pretends it doesn't hurt whenever one of the twins screams 'i hate you!' in a toddlerlike fit of rage but even after the apologies and makeups, he lies awake at night thinking about it over and over (because maybe he's just like his dad after all)

Dad Milo who still remains calm and firm in his discipline but also remembering to be kind and careful with his boys

Dad Milo who sings and dances with the twins

Parents Milo and Sweetheart who rarely argue in front of their kids

Dad Milo who is practically a seer when it comes to the boys, watching them intently and preventing them from doing stupid things that could get them (seriously) injured before it actually happens 

Parents Milo and Sweetheart who are so used to being punched by their kids

The house during the solstice after the twins get their powers is a mess (Milo makes it his mission to take care of everyone no matter how shitty he feels) 

Dad Milo who pretends the twins being clingy is a hindrance but secretly loves when they want to be around him

Parent Sweetheart who walks around the house on business calls while carrying one (or both) of the twins in each arm (Milo thinks it’s domestic as all hell)

Dad Milo and the twins play a game where he pretends to attack Sweetheart (sometimes in his wolf form) and the twins try to defend them by hitting him and standing in front of them with their arms held out (Milo finds it hilarious, Sweetheart finds it mildly annoying because they always do it when they’re trying to work)

Parents Milo and Sweetheart who are the biggest bullies to their kids (in a loving way)

Parent Sweetheart who only pretended to not be able to tell the difference between the twins one time but their youngest got so upset he started crying, so they didn’t do it again

Dad Milo who treats every messy drawing or art project as the next Mona Lisa (tells everyone their oldest is gonna be a big artist someday)

Dad Milo who is the type to hear one of the boys (or god forbid, both of them) likes a type of snack, food, or drink and buy enough to fill a store (“Dad I can’t eat all of that!”)

Parents Milo and Sweetheart who are definitely the hot parents at parent teacher interviews

Dad Milo who actually can’t say no to the boys (Marie has to talk some sense into him every so often)

Dad Milo who is beyond happy that his kids love his Ma just as much as he does

Dad Milo whose kids are shifter/stealth hybrids (idc if it’s not plausible or possible) and nearly has a heart attack every other day because he has three menaces teaming up to scare the shit out of him

Dad Milo who takes pictures of his family everyday

Parent Sweetheart who gives the boys a very serious lecture about bullying, telling them to be kind to others and if people aren’t kind to them, they should tell them right away

Dad Milo who constantly stresses the importance of letting him kids know that they can talk to him and tell him anything, even if they might get in trouble (“I’d rather be disappointed while I come pick you up from somewhere you’re not supposed to be rather than sitting at your funeral”)

Parent Sweetheart who nearly quits on the spot when they’re called to release their sons from a department cell. Twice.

Dad Milo who uses empty, pointless threats on his toddlers to get them to behave (“Hey, if you don’t stop screaming, I’m gonna have to go outside and pick a flower.”)

Dad Milo who picks up the boys by their shirts to turn them around when they’re going somewhere they’re not supposed to be

Dad Milo who can’t help but smile whenever he hears anything that reminds him of his family, of home

[valaenatargaryensdragon]

The Queen's Gambit

pairing: Fanon!Viserys Targaryen x Female OC

summary: Vanesha Lannister will not rest until she reaches her goal.

Word count: 1,7K

Warnings: Smut, P in V, squirting

Masterlist 1

Masterlist 2

The Red Keep stood tall, its imposing towers casting shadows over the city of King's Landing. Within its walls, a game of power and ambition unfolded, and at the center of it all was Vanesha Lannister.

She was a woman of intelligence and cunning, possessing a beauty that could captivate even the most resolute of men. But her true strength lay in her ability to identify weaknesses and exploit them. Viserys I Targaryen, the King of Westeros, was her latest prey.

As Vanesha walked through the gilded corridors of the Red Keep, her mind churned with calculated thoughts. She knew of Viserys' insatiable desire for sons, heirs to carry on the Targaryen legacy. It was a vulnerability she intended to exploit to the fullest.

In the candlelit chambers, she found Viserys engrossed in his own thoughts. His brow furrowed as he stared at a map of Westeros, contemplating the future of his dynasty. He looked up as Vanesha entered, and for a moment, his expression softened.

"Vanesha," he said, his voice laced with a longing he could barely conceal. "You look as radiant as ever."

Vanesha smiled, a calculated glint in her sapphire eyes. She moved closer to him, her movements graceful and deliberate. "My lord, I've been thinking," she began, her voice a velvet whisper. "Have you noticed how few daughters my family has produced over the years? It's always sons, strong sons to carry the name of Lannister."

Viserys, ever the dreamer of male heirs, nodded eagerly. "Yes, I've heard the tales. The Lannisters are blessed with sons, while the Targaryens..."

Vanesha's hand gently touched his arm, a subtle caress that sent a shiver down Viserys' spine. "It's a trait that runs in my blood, my lord. And I would be honored to provide you with the sons you so dearly desire."

Viserys' eyes widened, his vulnerability laid bare. It was a promise he had longed to hear, and Vanesha knew she had him ensnared. The courtship began, a dance of seduction and manipulation, and Viserys was utterly captivated.

Years passed, and Vanesha became Viserys' confidante and advisor. Her beauty remained undiminished, even after childbirth, as she presented him with not one, but three sons. The King was besotted, his every decision influenced by the woman who had fulfilled his dreams.

In the shadows of the Red Keep, Vanesha Lannister's ambition thrived, and Viserys I Targaryen remained a willing puppet, unaware of the strings that bound him to her will.

"Gods yes" Vanesha's head fell back, pure pleasure coursing through her body. She wanted nothing more than to stay in this moment forever.

"Viserys please" Vanesha moaned out loud. her thighs burned from the position. Viserys smirked watching her bounce on his cock, she looked like a goddess, his cock so deep inside of her, filling her.

"Take it" Viserys ordered, grunting as he pushed his hips up to meet her thrusts. Vanesha felt her whole body beginning to tremble with the orgasm coursing through her fighting to come forward.

"So close" She cried. her arms wrapped around his neck yelping when he moved. Her whines made his heart thump as he pulled out of her hole.

"Whore" Viserys smirked. he manhandled her body to move her to kneel on the bed. He pushed her down on her hands before entering her again.

"Viserys!" She squeaked, desperate to cum again. Viserys' hips snapped forward into her, burying his entire length inside. He felt delicious, so deep inside of her. He had already pulled an orgasm from her earlier with his lips merely suckling on her breast, emptying them helping her with the ache from not breast feeding their newest addition, Jahaerys, their son was being fed by the wet nurse while Vanesha finished her queenly duties.

"Yes, you like to be filled up, don't you?" Viserys asked. He never felt anymore power than he did with his cock deep inside of her cunt.

"Yes fill me up, give me a child" Vanesha whined, she pushed her hips back wanting him deeper. One of her hands sneaked in between her thighs, rubbing her pearl furiously.

"Cumming" She warned, Viserys picked up his pace. Vanesha's eyes rolled back with pure pleasure. She gasped when he grabbed a fistful of her hair and pulled her back.

"Viserys" She moaned, her back falling on his chubby belly. Her head rested back on his shoulder giving him access to kiss up and down her neck. He pushed her hand away and took over rubbing her clit.

She wiggled in his arm with overstimulation, he was adamant on making her cum having heard that when a woman cums there are higher chances to conceive. After the orgasm he gave her from suckling on her breasts he moved down to suckle on the same clit he was rubbing like a mad man, she made him a mad man and he was happy with it.

"Shit" She wailed hoarsly, her whole body falling forward, the knot in her stomach snapping making her gush around Viserys' cock. Viserys watched proudly as his wife's body trembled under him but refusing to push his cock out, her hips moving back unconsciously keeping him inside.

Vanesha shivered as Viserys ran his hands up and down her side to comfort her. She moved back on her hands and looked back over her shoulder at Viserys with a dazed smile. Viserys grinned in return and resumed the movement of his hips.

"I shall make sure your womb is filled to the brim with my seed tonight" Viserys declared. One of his hands moved onto her lower belly and pressed down on it. Vanesha gasped deliciously eating the pleasure he gave. She was ready to give him a millions sons.

"Don't stop" She begged, she was desperate. Viserys picked up his pace feeling his balls tighten, he was close.

"Fill me with your royal seed" Vanesha begged. She was going to give him more children, she was going to choke him with them, she was going to rule him with them.

Viserys' head fell back, her soaked pussy was just right, he has never felt this kind of pleasure before. He wanted to devour her if possible. His thick finger rand down till they reached down between her legs pinching her pearl again.

Vanesha's cried echoed off the the walls losing herself to the pleasure. Each touch made her skin light up on fire. Viserys collected her wetness and moved his hand up to her face. Vanesha opened her mouth welcoming his fingers into her mouth, moaning loudly when she tasted herself on his fingers.

"Good breeding mare" Viserys praised. Vanesha almost fainted right then and there at his words. She sucked his fingers as if they were his cock.

"Viserys" Vanesha moaned around his fingers. He pushed her tongue down, moaning when she swirled it around his fingers.

"Fucking hell, will fill you up with another son" He gasped quickening his thrusts. Vanesha thrashed in between his arms. he pulled out his fingers from her mouth with a pop. Vanesha cried now moans on full volume with nothing blocking them from coming out of her mouth.

She thrashed and cried and pushed back and forward, her orgasm was like fire, her back arched like the one of a cat as she squirted. Viserys pushed his cock inside of her as deep as possible making sure to shoot his seed as deep inside of her as possible, not to waste a singular drop even when he walls resisted him, even when her liquids tried to push him out.

The birth of their fourth son, Aeryn, marked another significant moment in Vanesha Lannister's plan for power and influence within House Targaryen. She had already achieved the unimaginable - securing her position as the mother of four sons, each of them a potential heir to the Iron Throne.

As Aeryn's cries echoed through the halls of the Red Keep, Vanesha held the newborn close, her mind racing with thoughts of the future. She had successfully given Viserys the sons he so desired, and now her attention turned to the next phase of her ambitious scheme.

In the privacy of their chambers, she broached the topic with the king, her voice gentle yet persuasive. "My love," she began, "I cannot help but think of the future of our sons. Aegon, our eldest, is a true heir in every sense. Strong and capable, he embodies the qualities of a future king."

Viserys, who had longed for male heirs, listened intently. "You speak the truth, Vanesha. Aegon is a fine boy, and I'm proud to call him my son."

Encouraged by his response, Vanesha continued, her words carefully chosen. "Rhaenyra is a remarkable girl, but it's well known that sons are favored in the realm. Aegon should be our heir, my love. It's the best way to secure the future of House Targaryen."

Viserys hesitated, torn between tradition and the desires of his heart. "Rhaenyra is my daughter," he replied, his voice filled with paternal affection.

Vanesha placed a reassuring hand on his arm, her eyes filled with concern. "I understand your love for her, my king. But we must consider the stability of the realm. Aegon is the strongest choice, and he would have the support of many lords and allies."

Viserys contemplated her words, his gaze fixed on the newborn Aeryn. He had always dreamed of strong sons to carry on the Targaryen legacy, and now he had them. The idea of naming Aegon as his heir, instead of Rhaenyra, held a certain appeal.

Vanesha continued to work her persuasive charm, planting the seeds of doubt in Viserys' mind regarding Rhaenyra's suitability as an heir. She knew that, with time, she could mold his thoughts to align with her ambitions.

As the days turned into weeks and months, Vanesha's influence grew, and the idea of Aegon as the heir to the Iron Throne gained traction. Viserys, still enamored with his sons, began to entertain the possibility.

Little did he know that his queen, Vanesha Lannister, was orchestrating a quiet revolution, one that could alter the course of history in Westeros. The future of House Targaryen hung in the balance, and the queen's ambitions knew no bounds.

[murdockcastleslut]

“keeping a few of their favorite snacks in the house for when they visit.” for benedict x f!reader pls 🥹🥰

omg i am totally using the macarons because he was so cute fighting over them with hyacinth and gregory! prompts for requests are here!

your family had been close friends with the bridgertons ever since you moved into mayfair when you were about eleven years old.

violet had been very kind to your mother and introduced you her eldest daughter daphne who was nine. after that the two of you were joined at the hip.

so when it was your second year on the marriage mart and daphne's first you were delighted to have someone to speak to when not dancing with various lords, dukes, and viscounts.

but today was one of the few days where there was no ball or social occasion where you would be under the eyes of the various mamas and lady whistledown whom ever she was.

you and your mama were invited to a famous game of pal mal. to be told you were very excited not only because you were extremely competitve but also daphne had informed you that a certain second son would be joining the game.

when you arrived you greeted all the bridgerton siblings with hugs. and in the midst of small talk with violet, benedict had caught your eye by making a beaconing motion.

it has also caught violet's attention and she told you to go ahead. you smiled at her and nodded before walking over to benedict and following him down into the pantry.

"benedict, why on earth have you beaconed me to the pantry, without a chaparone no less." you raised an eyebrow.

"no worries my lady," he said with a smirk across his face. "i brought you here to give you something. now close your eyes."

you raised you eyebrow at him before closing your eyes knowing you could trust the second eldest bridgerton.

you feel his hand take yours before he placed a tin in your hand.

"open." he says and you could hear his smile.

you opened your eyes and gasped surprised.

"blueberry macarons, you were quite disapointed when we didn't have any last time you visited, so i asked chef to pick some up."

a smile spread across your lips. you picked one out of the tin and tried it.

"oh these are perfect, thank you benedict."

your reaction brought a grin on his face and he goes and picks one for himself.

The two of you stand there eating enjoying one another's company before someone calls your names to start the first round of pal mal.

[hunnylagoon]

hey! I want to request a fluffy one shot about ellie being a parent with the reader. The rest is in your hands, write what comes to ur mind!

Small Hands

Summary: People say that the magic disappears when you have children, that never applied to you and Ellie, you are just as hopelessly in love as the day you were married. You celebrate Christmas with your friends and family despite a few bumps in the road.

A/N: I usually don’t fuck with kids but this concept actually seemed really cute to me. This chapter is a bit shorter, sorry if it’s rushed, I wrote this while studying for my exams. Thank you for requesting! If anyone else has requests, feel free to leave them and I will get around to them! There is the smallest teensiest weensiest smidgen of a angst in the middle but it comes from a third party. Warning for mentions of postpartum depression

-

The air was infused with the spicy aroma of gingerbread and the warm glow of twinkling lights as a group of friends gathered for their annual Christmas party. The cozy living room, adorned with tinsel and stockings, echoed with laughter and the jingling of bells. The adults, each holding a mug of steaming cocoa (with a splash of Bailey's), exchanged stories of the year gone by while the children, eyes wide with wonder, eagerly awaited the arrival of Santa Claus.

The living room sparkled with the joy of reunion, as friends who had become family over the years shared in the holiday spirit. You being the hostess of the party, had a flair for festive decorations, you had turned your home into a winter wonderland, complete with a towering Christmas tree and a crackling fireplace. "Levi, get away from there!" Your eyes went wide and you slammed your mug onto the coffee table before you ran to retrieve your son who was wearing an elf onesie and had been attempting to pull out bottles from the wine rack. Your friends and family laughed at the scene "Geez," You grabbed him from beneath his arms and scooped him up, quickly bringing him close to your chest. He had just turned four and was rapidly getting too big for you to carry him. You put him on the ground and ushered him toward the game room telling him to go play with his sister while all of the children were playing some kind of board game or watching the Polar Express. "Where is your mother?" You mutter under your breath, gaze suddenly focusing on the sink full of dishes, you sigh and walk towards them, figuring it easier to get them done now as opposed to when the part has ended and you're too exhausted to do so.

In the tranquil kitchen, the rhythmic cadence of water splashing and the clink of porcelain against stainless steel create a melodic backdrop as you diligently tend to the post-dinner ritual of washing dishes, humming along to the song 'Last Christmas' which you could hear ever so faintly rise above the busy chatter of the living room. your hands, adorned with soap bubbles, move with a graceful choreography, navigating each plate, glass, and utensil with practiced efficiency. The moonlight streaming through the window illuminates the dance of water droplets, casting a prism of reflections on the gleaming surfaces. The scent of citrus-scented dish soap permeates the air, as you, lost in thought, scrub away at remnants of roast chicken and mashed potatoes.

"There's my girl," You feel a pair of arms snake around your waist, you didn't need to turn around to tell who it was; it had of course been your wife, you looked down at where her hands rested on your midriff, her silver wedding ring glistened beneath the warm overhead lighting in the kitchen.

"Are you aware your son is trying to get into the wine rack again?" You turn around to face her, her hands changed from their spot on your waist to the edge of the kitchen sink, leaving you stuck between her and the counter, faces inches apart.

"What can I say? He's got drinking problems," She teased, gaze flickering to your lips for a minute.

"That's all you," You said, your faces were so close that you could've sworn that you could count every single freckle on her face. Without warning, Ellie puts her hands back onto your waist to pull you close, she plants little kisses on your neck, earning a giggle from you "Really?" You laugh "Is me washing dishes really that attractive?"

"Oh, absolutely," She thought you were so incredibly stunning, even in something as simple as a red cable-knit sweater with faded mom jeans and hair tied up sloppy in a claw clip. You had only bought the claw clip in the first place because your daughter told you they were trendy.

"Okay, seriously, there are kids here," You laugh, gently pushing Ellie away from you "We can save that for later."

"You just look so beautiful," Ellie wears a goofy smile on her face.

"In mom jeans?"

She shrugs "As beautiful as the day I met you, if not more."

You can't help the huge smile that consumes your face. You and Ellie had met in college, she was a bartender and you went to her bar every single Friday just to see her, all of your friends sat in a booth but you would always push for them to sit at the bar when they refused, you sat alone just to talk to the pretty girl behind the bar. "Do you remember how we were spending Christmas in College?"

"One bottle of peppermint schnapps and a bag of chocolate-covered pretzels."

"You're forgetting a game of strip poker," You add.

"That's probably because I was hammered off my ass," She says bluntly and it makes you laugh. Back in college, the pair of you made plans to fly home to see your families but a snowstorm had other plans, with arrangements cancelled you went back to each other, cozying up on Ellie's beat-up couch and dumping schnapps into eggnog, god it tasted awful but the sound of Ellie laughing, her cheeks and nose pink from cold air almost made it taste better.

"You know..." You say, drawing Ellie's attention "I think it might be time to start the gingerbread house contest."

Ellie is way ahead of you, she leaves the kitchen and enters the game room, you can tell the exact moment she announced it by the kid's reactions all you heard was cheering before a dozen kids stormed out of the game room and gathered around the dining table where you had meticulously placed a gingerbread house decorating kit at each chair as well as little bowls full of several colours of frosting and miscellaneous candies lined down the center.

Parents sat next to their children or stood behind them, either rooting for them or guiding their small hands along the gingerbread, aiding the decorating process. Ellie sat between both of your children "Levi, you can eat it after you build it," She chuckled, gingerly moving the plastic butter knife of icing to the edge of a wall for the gingerbread house, "See? You put icing along the edges and then you stick it together and then when it dries, you have a house!" She explained in simple terms to your youngest, turning her head to look at your daughter who was too busy conversing with her friend to decorate "You should be listening to this too, Kenna, useful tips," She teased. Kenna rolled her eyes, she was ten years old and at that stage where she was starting to get embarrassed by her parents. Ellie laughed at your daughter's reaction, locking eyes with you from your spot by the doorway where the two of you share a look of understanding.

"Uh oh, looks like Papa's intervening," Dina said, she stood next to Jesse, cradling her baby, JJ, in her arms, watching the scene unfold.

"Alright, kiddo, here's what we're gonna do." Joel shooed Kenna's friend away, replacing her. Under hushed whispers he explained a plan to Kenna, the two were discussing a layout to win the gingerbread contest.

"Oh, it's getting heated now," Ellie said, now moving her focus onto Levi's sloppy gingerbread house.

Everyone was in the festive dining room, laughing and talking, truly in the Christmas spirit, all except for one; you heard what sounded like faint sobs coming from the kitchen. With furrowed eyebrows, you followed the sound and found none other than your friend, Catherine crying into her hands.

"What happened?" You break the silence, catching her attention.

Catherine begins to wipe away tears, shaking her head "It's nothing, it's so stupid-

"Well, it's not nothing if you're crying." You cross your arms. Catherine can't seem to get the words out, she just shakes her head and squeezes her eyes shut in her best attempt to push back tears, her blue eyes red and puffy "Whatever it is, I'm not going to judge you."

"It's just-" She takes a deep, shaky breath" Sometimes I wish I wasn't a mom, I just wish I could pack up my bags and leave in the middle of the night and never come back." Catherine was an English teacher at a middle school, you had met her not long after you met Ellie. She was also a new mother, she had only had her baby girl, Clementine for six months; you saw how tired she was, she always for dark bags under her eyes, she used to intricately braid her dirty blond hair every day but now she only had the energy in her to tie it up into a loose bun. "I'm sorry," She laughed "I don't know why I'm crying."

"Because it hurts." You answer, eyebrows furrowing with concern.

Your daughter ran into the kitchen with a huge smile on her little face "Mom, you need to see my house, Papa Joel is helping me and it looks really cool so far-" Her smile faded in the slightest when she saw you with Catherine, "Is Cathy okay?"

"She's fine, sweetheart," You kneel to eye level with Kenna "Her tummy just hurts from too much hot chocolate so I'm gonna take care of her for a bit." You brush one of Kenna's lose hair behind her ear and plant a kiss onto her freckled forehead "Just go back to making your house, I'm sure it looks awesome, I promise I'll come see it when it's done but I think your auntie Sarah would love to see it." Kenna nods casting one last look at Catherine who turned around to hide her tear-stained face from your daughter and hurried out of the kitchen. "Cath, let's talk outside." You move towards the sliding door on the other side of the kitchen, you hold it open for Catherine who follows you outside, immediately hugging herself in an attempt to fight off the cold. "So, where is this coming from?"

Catherine looks around the snow-covered yard, she sees the snowman that your children made with Ellie the day before and it only adds to the unbearable weight on her shoulders "I'm not good at this, I'm a bad mom-

"No, you're not-

She lets out another sob "Like just now, you are so patient with Kenna and Levi, you and Ellie have this incredible house and an amazing family, you guys never fight and I just feel like I'm falling behind."

"You're crazy if you think Ellie and I don't fight, we argue all the time about the stupidest things, like earlier we fought about who would pop that champagne cork. We fight, but that doesn't mean that we don't love each other, I'm sure you feel the same way about Emmet."

"I love Emmet," She says "I really do and I love Clementine so so much I just wish I had a minute to breathe." Catherine can hardly look you in the eyes "I work with kids all day and take care of them and then I get home and it's just more of the same but there's cooking and cleaning and it's endless."

The silence stretches between you two. Catherine's face is scrunched up, her pale turning red from the cold. With each unsteady breath, she heaves, a cloud of carbon dioxide emerges. The sleet covering every inch of ground acts as soundproofing over the neighbourhood, the only thing you can hear are birds flapping their wings and Catherine's heavy cries.

"Do you remember when I wanted to be a writer?" She asks "When I used to have dreams, I would hole myself up in that one corner booth of that coffee shop every Sunday and I would write for hours on end."

"And every time someone mentioned a book or movie that they like, you would ask what they liked about it so you could use bits of it in your writing." You say, your lips stretching into a thin melancholic smile at the memory.

"Well, it's all gone out the window." She was shaking by that point, not from the frigid air or her now wet socks but from misery "Two years ago I was hosting wine-tasting parties and Emmet was taking me out to these beautiful high-end restaurants. I could fit into sleek back dresses and wear high heels for hours without getting blisters, now all I eat is Kraft dinner and takeout. Every nice blouse I own has gotten baby vomit on it."

The way Catherine is speaking, she sounds bitter with despair hanging in her tone. You at a loss for words, postpartum depression was common but you hadn't realized just how much Catherine was suffering. She had spent six months feeling this way with no one to talk to. When you first adopted Kenna you were terrified, you thought that you wouldn't have a mother's instinct and that you were going to screw her up in some way or that she would resent you because you aren't her biological mother.

"I haven't got a full night of sleep in six months, all I hear is that fucking screeching cry. That's all she does is scream, she screams when she's happy, when she's sad, when she's upset and angry, it's all I hear and I'm so fucking sick of it." She buried her face into her hands "Emmet just loves her so much, he does everything with her without complaint and I can't help but hold the slightest bit of resent for her, I probably sound evil right now."

"You don't," You pulled Catherine in for a hug. Embracing her and all of her sadness, if it belonged to her then it belonged to you as well. "I'll tell you this right now, it's going to get a whole lot worse before it gets better." Her head was tucked into the crook of your neck.

"That isn't helping-

You pushed her away, holding onto her shoulders, forcing her to face you. "Remember when you adopted that dog?"

"Toothless," She smiled at the thought of her old Labrador.

"He was a puppy when you adopted him, he had way too much energy, barked at every sound, and pissed and shat on the floor of your apartment a lot," You say, face dead serious despite the subject matter "That night before exams when you were exhausted and all you wanted was to sleep, you tucked yourself into bed and Toothless was right beside you and then he pissed all over your white duvet. You called me and you just cried and cried because you were so stressed and that was the tipping point. How about that time he dragged your period-stained underwear out of your laundry basket when you had a date over-

"Okay, I get it," Catherine laughed.

"My point is, when that puppy stage passed, you were in love with that dog, you blew off plans just to take him on walks downtown. If you had a bad day, you would curl up on the couch with him. Not that I'm comparing your child to a dog but when this postpartum leaves, that child is going to be the light of your life. Fridays at the bar won't sound appealing when you can make popcorn and watch Disney with your daughter, nothing else is going to matter as much as that girl. When Clementine gets older you'll find that every eye-roll means you're doing something right."

"Is that true?" She asks "About the eyerolls?"

"No," You laugh "It's just something I say to make Ellie feel better."

Catherine chuckles, wiping away what remains of her tears. "Thank you."

"I know it feels like it's the end of the road but it's not. It gets easier every single day but that's the hard part, you need to get up and face it every single day." Your words calm Catherine down. Her tears dissipate and with a deep breath she is no longer shaking "We should go back inside now, I wanna see who won the gingerbread building contest." You sling an arm around her and guide her back inside through the sliding door.

"But my socks are wet." She says, hesitant to step back inside.

"I'm sorry for making you stand in the snow but that conversation needed to happen," You urge her inside anyway, not caring if your freshly cleaned kitchen floors get wet "I'll lend you a pair of slippers."

You and Catherine return to the dining room where the contest is just wrapping up, both in fuzzy slippers; the pair Catherine wore had little black spotted cows on them while yours were teal and made to look like Perry the Platypus, a gift you received from Ellie out of the blue because she thought they were hilarious and wanted both of you to have a matching pair. "Just in time," Dina says, she's wearing a white turtle neck and blue skinny jeans, leaning against the wall, watching her husband with a smile "They're about to announce the winner."

Ellie is speaking in a hushed voice with Jesse who is holding JJ in one arm, she's acting as serious as ever and even pretending to ask JJ for his opinion, the baby just babbles in return "Interesting, thank you, JJ," She says. Ellie turns to the crowd, everyone goes silent waiting for her words "The consensus is... You are all winners!"

Many of the older kids groaned in annoyance, all of the adults knew this was coming that didn't stop Tommy from saying that it was outrageous.

As the night unfolded, the kids, bundled up in cozy sweaters, gathered around a table filled with art supplies to craft their ornaments. Laughter filled the room as little hands carefully adorned paper snowflakes and painted wooden stars. The parents, caught in the infectious energy of the children, joined in the crafting, reminiscing about their childhood holiday traditions.

With bellies full and hearts warmer than ever, the group of friends settled into a circle around the fireplace. The children, tucked in cozy blankets, many of the kids fell asleep in the game room while 'Home Alone' played on the TV.

As the night drew to a close, the guests exchanged hugs and well wishes. The flickering lights of the Christmas tree cast a soft glow on the scene as the friends, with their children in tow, bid farewell, knowing that the memories forged on this magical night would linger in their hearts long after the last snowflake had fallen. Parent hauled their sleeping children away into their cars, putting a close on the night.

Ellie took Kenna, hand in hand, to the bathroom, making sure that she thoroughly brushed her teeth. She tucked her daughter in, giving her a kiss on the forehead. Kenna tried to argue that she wasn't tired but the second her head hit the pillow her eyes shuttered closed and any chatter she had in her was replaced by soft breaths emerging from the sleeping girl.

You had taken Levi straight to bed, he was already passed out when you found him curled in a ball on a blanket in the game room. He gently put him down on his bed and pulled a Spider-Man blanket over the top of him to keep his little body warm. You made sure that his night light was plugged in before stepping away and closing the door, but not all the way, you left it open a crack, just the way he liked it.

And so, the echoes of laughter, the warmth of shared moments, and the spirit of togetherness lingered in the air, a reminder that the company of cherished friends and family had just left, leaving you and your little family to sit in the static quiet of the fireplace crackling.

The air is still tinged with the scent of cinnamon and pine, and a soft glow emanates from the myriad of twinkling lights that adorn every corner. The Christmas tree, a majestic centrepiece, stands tall and proud, its branches adorned with an array of ornaments that glisten in hues of red, gold, and silver. A cozy fireplace crackles merrily, casting a warm embrace upon the room. Festive stockings, embroidered with care, hang in anticipation of surprises. Plush blankets drape over sofas, inviting you to sink into their warmth. Every surface seems to gleam with the holiday spirit, from the gleaming silverware on the dining table to the festive wreaths that adorn doorways. The ambiance is a symphony of holiday joy, where every decoration tells a story of cherished traditions and the magic of Christmas despite the displaced blankets and dishes, as well as random craft supplies that were somehow everywhere.

"We should probably clean this up before bed," You say, bending down to grab a throw blanket off the floor.

Ellie grabs your wrist to stop you "That's what tomorrow is for," You turn to face her "Right now I just want to be with my wife."

You grin "I don't think I'll ever get sick of you saying that."

"I don't think I'll ever get sick of saying it."

You kiss Ellie, she has one hand pulling you in from the small of your back. "I think I have a crush on you." You giggle.

"A crush on your wife?" Ellie raises an eyebrow "Who could imagine that."

"No I mean, I obviously love you but there's a difference between being in love and having a crush, we've been married for fourteen years and I still get excited when you call me pretty. I can't help but stare at you in a room full of people and when you look back I get butterflies because I just can't help but be thankful that I got lucky enough to have you." Your lips curve up into a smile "I don't think that was corny enough," You say sarcastically.

Ellie kisses you again, it is simple and sweet, like the taste of sugar resting on the tip of your tongue "I guess I have a crush on you too," She looked so pretty in her jeans and red flannel, sporting the haircut you gave her with pride; whenever someone mentioned her haircut she would get all giddy and say 'My wife did it!'. An idea snaps into your mind, and you swiftly break away from Ellie and kick off your Perry the Platypus slippers, jetting to the kitchen to the sliding door and running outside. Ellie calls after you, with no response, she follows your trail of teal slippers. She pokes her head outside "Honey?" She calls into the night, and instead of your voice answering her she is decked in the face by a snowball. "Ow!"

With rosy cheeks and twinkling eyes, your breath forming clouds in the cold, launched the first snowball, its trajectory guided by both precision and mischief. Ellie, undeterred, retaliated with a well-aimed throw which truthfully fucking hurt when it crashed into you as she used to play softball and didn't know how to gently throw anything. The world around you transformed into a playground, each snowball being thrown with more power.

As the not-so-friendly competition unfolded, your movements became a dance—a graceful ballet of dodges and throws. The landscape bore witness to their camaraderie, marked by the hushed giggles (trying your best to stay quiet enough that you didn't wake the kids) and the occasional shrieks of delight. Frost-kissed eyelashes framed your beaming faces, capturing the essence of a moment suspended in the magic of winter.

The cold air filled with the warmth of your connection. You both paused, momentarily breathless, her laughter echoing in the serene stillness of the snow-covered landscape. Amidst the snow-laden trees and glistening ground, you and Ellie shared a quiet gaze—a fleeting, unspoken acknowledgment of the bond that stayed unbroken with each tossed snowball.

Your cheeks flushed with both the chill of the air and the thrill of the game, finally forfeited, coming out from your shielding spot behind the shed, you laughed as you approached Ellie, moving your delicate hands to shake snow out of her hair. The memory of the evening lingered, a cherished chapter in the story of your enduring love.

[threepandas]

Bad End: Poisoned Cups

I hadn't adjusted well, at first. I don't think anyone could have. Being an elf sound cool, on paper. The better eye sight, the incredible hearing, the stamina. All sorts of perks right? But what they don't tell you, is that when your soul is human? When you get isekai'd by some divine oversight or fucker with a truck?

It doesn't adapt that well, to a new body. Your soul INSISTS you should still be human, with all the trappings, and throws a FIT, when you just.... aren't. So you end up with migraines. Eyes that swim in and out of focus. Wheezing, struggling, breathe. A body at war with itself.

The world was so loud. Too loud. I could hear EVERYTHING and it HURT. Couldn't breathe and THAT hurt. Was nauseated all the time, from my eyes refusing to focus properly. That too, hurt. All of it, pain. Just? Pain. Day after day, pain pain pain.

My poor parents were helpless. The doctors struggled.

But the King? HE could save me.

And he did.

He was younger then. Just barely into his rule. His Father having just stepped down. My parents, desperate, brought me before him. Waited in line for days. They didn't even know if he COULD do anything, were grimly prepared for him to say that sadly, nothing COULD be done. But? Instead? He looked me over, called for several old texts, looked again, then called upon the strength of the Throne.

My parents apparently started weeping the second I stopped.

All I remember is the pain going away. Being exhausted. A REALLY pretty elf man in a crown. Things getting... better, after that.

I was told that story often, as a child. It utterly transformed our household. From merely loyal citizens, to devote Loyalists. Speaking ill of the King in THIS house? Would now get you HURT. My parents had been convinced they were going to LOSE me. The King as far as they were concerned, saved my LIFE.

Which is why I didn't put anything together. Seeing as we were an "all King all the time" Sort of house. We had one(1) team and we were sticking to it. Permanently. His son? Eeeeh, maybe. We'd figure that out later. We didn't care to know. And I was too busy with school work to CHECK.

Which? Meant I didn't NOTICE? He looked? More and more... Otome Capture Target as time went on. Specifically, he looked kinda crown prince from "Dance of the Secret Forest! A True Love For Me?!" sort of Shaped. Which... gee, what ARE the odds? Especially given that so many OTHER things are named suspiciously similar or exactly the same to that game?

.........yeeeeeah. I decided not to take chances.

I looked that shit UP.

And wouldn't you know it? Protagonist-chan? Not there yet. But she SURE COULD BE! All the legends were EXACTLY what they should be. Forests and locations the same! PEOPLE the same! Oh HELL no. Good to know where NOT to be, I guess.

Not my circus, NOT my Otome Drama Monkeys.

I? Would be working for the KING. My family owed him a debt.

And when I graduated? I applied. Top of my class. I studied my ASS off. Could have gone anywhere. But I was aiming for the TOP. A debt to be repayed and frankly? Excellent job security on top of it! So filling busy work in dusty ass backrooms it was. Gotta start from the bottom, after all.

I exhausted them. Was honestly barely trying too at that point. They should see me TRYING to put my nose to the grindstone. Burn the midnight oil! Ha! HA, I say! Long elven lifespans slow you all down! I? Used to live in a capitalist hellscape! This is NOTHING.

I'm not even multi-tasking. It's not even LUNCH YET.

Did I get promoted? Yes. Do I worry my coworkers? Deeply! But shit needs doing and we don't have all day! There is a nation to run! Have some tea. Eat a turnover. Now~! Where are my fuckin documents~☆?

I get promoted again.

Then again.

Aaaaand again.

I'm pretty sure it's cause I scare people. Am FAST. Efficient. Willing to hunt my coworkers for SPORT, like a god damned bloodhound, if it means we get that one extra tax document that makes or breaks us. I have (and will again if necessary) climbed through people's fucking WALLS. Cause, honestly? If they wanted to stop me?

They should have warded the gods damned vents.

Fuckin casuals. Get on my level.

So, now? I am the baby. King's inner circle. And EVERYONE? Is damn near twice my age! And, granted, yes. It IS hilarious I still scare like half the people working under me... but come ON! You are elite government officials! Do BETTER! (Geez. At least my PARENTS couldn't be prouder.)

But... (and God damn it, why is there ALWAYS a "but"?) here's the thing. It? Took me a WHILE to get where I am now. Long enough, in fact, for our... Problem, to arrive. A Problem which is GOING to cast his Majesty's kingdom into chaos and turmoil, in fighting and divides. Religious upheaval. A PROBLEM, which? In the name of luuuuuv~?

Is going to get NEIGHBORING COUNTRIES involved.

And WHO do you think is going to have to deal with that? WHO will have to prevent all out WAR? Religious schisms? Ward off assassins in the night? Certainly not Mr. "But Daddy, I love her!". Oh no, HE gets to sit back and enjoy the fruits of his father's suffering! Make more trouble! (Fucker.)

But, hey! Maybe I should throw in with his SECOND son, right? The supporting character? He seems vastly more reasonable and emotionally more balanced doesn't he? Well educated, cautious, why, thoughtful even! Ha ha... yeah... he DOES seem that way, doesn't he?

SEEMS.

He Is Not. Little fucker is a SPECIAL flavor of batshit. Completely "wake to find him standing over you, in your LOCKED BEDROOM, asking if you want to see his new favorite knife" nutty puffs. Not sure which side of the family it comes from, to be honest. Disturbingly good at getting past my warding.

Or at least he WAS, until I got the King involved. Ha! Royal wards! You can't touch me! I sleep like a BABY now! The only people who can enter my rooms now? Are literally JUST me and the KING HIMSELF! How safe is that~‽

But for real... poor his Majesty, you know? It's not like he didn't TRY to be a good father. Take time he couldn't afford out of each day, to spend time with his sons. Insist on eating meals together so he could ask them about their interests, how each day had gone. Involved them where he safely could.

He's a somber man. A dignified one. But let NO ONE say, he is not a LOVING one.

And HOW do his children fucking reward him? Middle school love dramatics and MURDER ATTEMPTS IN THE NIGHT! Because, YES, I have found the disturbing murder board that the second prince has in his "secret" room. Right along his equally disturbing stalker board of ME.

I, obviously, told the King.

He did not look pleased.

Don't know if my new reality has, like, intensive therapy programs or something? But I hope for ALL our sakes, that the second Prince is at the winter palace getting HELP, instead of just? You know... plotting.

His Highness has a nasty tendency to plot, after all. But hey, his Majesty says not to worry about it? I choose to believe him. Concern myself with more immediate threats. Enjoy, no longer turning around to find some baby faced little creep with a hunter's stare, just... watching me. As I try to work. As I try to eat. Around corners, still as a statue, yet somehow a THREAT, in lonely and too empty corridors.

God fucking DAMN, his little "crush" was creepy!

If it weren't for his Majesty? I would have run and run FAR. But... but I? And you CAN NOT repeat this, okay? It's WILDLY inappropriate! A-And I SWEAR I'm never going to.. to ACT on it! I would NEVER. So...so PROMISE, okay?

....cause.... I may... MAY! Possibly! Just a LITTLE bit! Sorta, kinda, just a BIT? Have a TEENY? Little crush... on... his Majesty? Maybe???

YOU CAN'T TELL!

It's SO fucking inappropriate. Oh my GOD. I hate this so much!? Cause he's my BOSS! And old enough to be my DAD! I SHOULDN'T be so attracted to him, right?! Plus he's the KING! There's definitely a power imbalance there! How would that even WORK?! We would have no future! I don't know the first THING about how to BE royalty. And no one would accept me!

Not that I think I even have a CHANCE! Fuck no! I'm not THAT arrogant.

But, like? A girl can day dream. Fantasize, you know?

Which is why? Having his SON? Be a creepo stalker at me? Kinda the WORST. I've literally JUST discovered I'm into older men! Thanks! BEGONE, zygote! Also, your vibes are RANCID! No thanks! I hated that and am SO glad it's gone. Now? All I have to worry about? Is Protagonist-chan and the political SHIT SHOW she drags after her like trail of destruction.

Why is she involving foreign royalty? PLEASE stop involving foreign royalty! Dukes! Religious leaders! MILITARY LEADERS. Stop "Helen of Troy"-ing your ass through our nice, PEACEFUL, kingdom!!! What the ACTUAL FUCK!? This is NOT A THEME PARK.

I watch, vaguely horrified, as his Majesty finishes reading three (yes, count um! Fucking THREE!) different royal missives demanding three different women of legend, from three DIFFERENT legends, who coincidentally enough? Happen to ALL BE THE SAME PERSON. Fucking Protagonist-chan.

They were from long standing ALLIES.

We could not AFFORD to lose those.

And the FOURTH message? Oh, THAT? That, was from his SON! Mr. "But Daddy! I Love her!" HIMSELF! He wants permission to marry the random woman of unknown province he found in the woods! Could be a foreign spy! Could be a mad woman. Who CARES right? They're SO in love~

Enough to START A WAR OVER IT.

I skip the tasting cups and instead? Bring his Majesty a bottle of the strongest star wine I can find. The sort that could damn near eat through rocks and vaporizes in air if you pour it out. Pain killers too, for what HAS to be a killer headache. Then I hesitate. You know what? Fuck it. I grab a cart. Make a care package.

Paper, ink, the STRONG tea, that special occasions tea (in case he needs a reason to remember his will to live), some snacks, a few shawls in case he decides to work late...

It's worth it, to see the way his stressed face relaxs when I return. Eyes softening, corner of his mouth curling up in that tiny, secret, little smile. We can get through this. We WILL get through this. I may not be able to stand by his side, but? I can support him. Help.

So long as HE sits in this office, burning himself down to keep this nation warm, so too, will I.

Tea or booze, your Majesty?

"A blend, I think. Unfortunately, I fear it is going to be a long night for us both." He replies. His voice smooth and low, effortlessly filling the room. A lifetime of public speaking, ingrained so very deep. "You should pour yourself a cup as well, my dear. Sleep will be a long time coming, we will need both the calm and the clarity."

I rolled my borrowed tea cart to the side and got to work. Strong tea and stronger star wine. Certainly a... flavor. Fairly certain such a thing should be illegal. Pretty sure our healers are going to be appalled. But, oh well. Needs, must. One for me, one for him.

He held out a hand. It was a sweeping gesture of his arm, a gentle turn of his wrist. I could never get used to his casual... elegance. The beauty of him. Like a living art work. A dancer. As though he were an actor, striking a pose, about to consider the soul of the simple tea cup. I handed it over, gently and with as much elegance as I could.

It still felt clumsy in comparison.

Yet he still smiled, just slightly. In that way I had learned to spot. Tension dripping away from his shoulders like thawing ice. Running in little rivers like melt waters, as he sat back in his chair, half turning it to face me. A brief moment to relax. Before work begins again.

"Ah... completely vile. Thank you, dear. It's disgusting." He said dryly, catching me off gaurd, and making me damn near snort into my cup. "If it did not work so well? I would never consume this swill again. What a perfect waste of tea and wine. We should invite Yevault."

I laugh. A snirking, snorting, choked little thing into my cup. God, but I've been TRYING to laugh more elegantly. Hell, I've even practiced. But when he catches me off gaurd? I swear to God, I cackle and pop. Like some sort of deranged witch pig. Ow, my sinuses.

"Oh but that's right, Yevault is a healer, on the occasions he takes time from being an unbearable snob. He might actually make us rest, dear. Then where would we be?" His Majesty muses, taking another sip before grimacing at the taste.

I go to respond. Probably some quip about "preferably in bed" or "asleep". Only... only to find my tounge sluggish. My exhaustion mounting, not slipping away. The world has begun to sway. Just a little at first, then notable. My mouth... fuzzy? Prickly. W...what?

His Majesty has begun to frown. Delicately setting down his cup... cup? Something about... a cup... I have taken too long to respond. He rises. Strides in a few, urgent, steps over to where I lean. Against the edge of my assistants desk. Swaying~ swaying~ w-why is the ground... my tounge feels to big. Think? I've begone to drool?

Warm, big hands cup my face. Was slipping forward, to the side. Gonna fall? Not anymore. Up. Hi! Is the king. Hi King. I... I don't feel so good...

His eyes have gone focused and cold. Pretty. Crown begins to glow. Leaves. Gold and gold, a halo of light. From within and beyond him. Power of the throne. Oh... oh I was here before, wasn't I? My bones remember. Like the roots to his great tree, power seeping deeper and deeper into my body, finding imperfections to consume. So... so much LIGHT.

I can not look away.

"Poison, was it? How terribly banal. Do they think me so simple to kill?" There is scorn in his voice. Utter distain. But deep beneath, like the hidden embers of a forest fire, there is rage. "How dare they drag you into this. Bad enough they throw a FIT over some trouble making tart, now they get the innocent involved? What if I had not been paying attention? Or you had taken that tea where I could not see it? Unacceptable."

Like spreading branches, like antlers, the light spread. The hands on my face gentle even as his Majesty's face might as well have been carved from stone. I tried to protest, swallowing thinking past the still rolling nausea. It was my fault! The tasting cups exsist for a REASON. They're supposed to test for things like this. I got too comfortable.

"No." The word slammed down as about an absolute as any sentence CAN. A declaration from on high. The commandment of a king. "It takes far more then simple poisons or common blades to kill me. The power that flows through the Throne insures it. You do not have that luxury. You could have DIED."

"....might still yet."

The last bit, almost a confession, pressed to my brow as he leaned down to press his lips to my forhead. His grip tighter, as though to stop his hands from shaking. My joints were starting to hurt, like I had a nasty cold, and I was already starting to feel feverish. I was starting to drip sweat. Shit.

I tried to stay calm. But... but I was scared. What do I do? Your Majesty! What do I DO?!

"We are going back to my quarters. Work can be brought to me. You need to lay down." He decided after a long moment of deliberation. Something had shifted in his eyes. I couldn't make heads or tails of it. Clung to the only trustworthy source of comfort I knew, in the chaos of this moment. "I'm going to take care of you. I have you, dear. Just trust me, darling. I will fix this. I swear it. You don't have to worry about a thing. Just put all of your trust in me, all right?

"Just come with me, dear. Everything will be all right."

"You can trust me."

[ashprompts]

𝐆𝐀𝐌𝐄 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐑 𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒

a collection of sentence starters from dropout tv's game changer. feel free to alter pronouns/text as you see fit

“I’ve been here THE WHOLE TIME”

“It’s hard to hold this much anger in my body.” 

“If you never hear from me again, you know what to do!.”

“If they don’t find me it’s because I was chopped up and fed to the pigs!”

“I SOLVED YOUR LABYRINTH, PUZZLEMASTER. THE MINOTAUR’S ESCAPED, AND YOU’RE GONNA GET THE HORNS, BUDDY”

“I. CANNOT. WIN!!!!”

“A lot of people have been saying that ___ is a singularly evil, wildly incompetent, befuddled nepo baby silver spoon motherfucker. This is what people are saying.” 

“If you can do ONE swing on the swing I will let you play with all the math puzzles that you want” 

“You’re not getting a FUCKING JOKE OUT OF ME until you let me out of this room! You want bits?! You let me out of this room for bits, motherfucker!”

“Are we gonna die before we get outta here?” 

“I’m gonna lose so fucking hard it’s gonna blow your fucking mind”

“But in this sick rodeo, this bizarre fucked up clown festival, we’re here celebrating what I can only describe as the sickness at the core of America.” 

“Give me the assignment and I don’t miss. I’m gonna DIE before this is over.”

“Your tower’s gonna fall. Laugh it up now.” 

“A river of sweat is running down my back right now.”

“I do hate zombies and I will have nightmares about this tonight. But in this moment I just feel like I’m surrounded by friends.” 

“We don’t give a cum.”

“If you’re in a hole, DYING. I WON’T BE THERE.”

“I showed them my feet, [name]! I SHOWED THEM MY FEET FOR NOTHING?”

“Stop shaking your cock in the middle of a fucking huddle, dude!”

“I’d fuck that pie.”

“If you’re like me, you eat a lot of ass.”

“I hate capitalism but I also hate losing.”

“I get my tongue so far up somebody it’s like I’m tasting their tonsils. I get so deep in there I’m gonna burn myself with stomach acid.”

“I like perching like a little bisexual gargoyle”

“If you were performing on a subway I would take money away from you.”

“I’VE ONLY JUST BEGUN TO PULL THE THREAD ON THIS SWEATER.”

“Icarus flying too close to the sun, but it seems Daedalus our little mastercrafter over here had some WAX WINGS OF HIS OWN, didn’t he? Wanted to see his son fall, faaaalll from the sky, OH HOW CLOSE TO THE SUN HE FLEW”

“Hey can I get an ah? … Don’t scream at me.” 

“You kinda have the vibe that your kids call you by your first name.”

“The day I DON’T curse when a body falls from the sky, call somebody.”

“Could I place an order? I’m hungie. What do you think would be the best pizza to order if I’m quite hungie? Um, I like cheese, what is your largest pizza? Yeah let’s get an extra large because I’m hungie. I’m hungie, I’m hungie, I’m hungie.” 

“WE ARE NOT ANIMALS!!!”

“So long as I am on this stage and drawing breath, you can good and goddamn believe I’ll be trying my best in every challenge.”

“Was it bad that we just started smashing shit?” 

“You didn't count on INGENUITY did you motherfucker?!”

“FIGHT THE BOURGEOISIE. I WILL VENMO YOU $20.” 

“This could be hell. This is very Satre-esque.”

“YOU ARE NOT GOD. THE MACHINE IS GOD.”

“Can you tell us why you’d do this to us?”

“I won’t be made a fool”

“I do feel like I’m in a nightmare”

“I’m the only one OUT of the loop it seems”

“Everybody do the wenis! The wenis is a dance! Everybody is a genius! Who knows it in advance!” 

"DANCE IS A SIN!"

"You think I'm gonna fucking roll over?!"

"It'll be a COLD DAY IN HELL when I go out like a fucking chump!"

"I don't care about winning, I just don't wanna lose"

[babydollmarauders]

SWEET SWEET BABY — JACK HUGHES

part of the el!hughes au

summary: in which y/n (lovie) gives birth to their baby boy

warnings: reference to porn (?), birth

notes: THIS TAKES PLACE IN APRIL 2024! (2.8k words)

not my gif

“five more days.”

Jack’s voice breaks me out of my reading trance, my eyes tearing away from my book that sits propped up on my overly large bump.

“hmm?” i hum, wincing as the baby pushes against my bladder.

Jack just smiles, he has one hand resting on my lower stomach, and the other holding our two-year-old to his chest as she naps.

“five more days,” he repeats, his sentence broken up by a yawn. “until his due date.”

“if he can stay in here that long.” i joke. it’s an ongoing worry of mine, that our baby boy is gonna come before his due-date like his sister did.

“he’ll do it.” Jack says confidently, looking down at my stomach. “right, little guy?”

our son, as though knowing his father is talking to him, kicks directly at Jack’s hand on my bump, resulting in a wide grin from Jack.

“told ya, Lovie.” he looks back at me, “he’ll wait. he just told us so.”

“go take your nap!” i laugh, pushing at his legs with my foot.

“okay, well i’m taking her with me.” he sticks his tongue out at me as he stands up, clutching Eleanor tightly to his chest with his good arm as he does so.

“that’s fine with me. peace and quiet.” i sigh, “maybe i’ll actually get to finally finish my book.”

“you mean your porn?” Jack teases, bending over to press a kiss to my forehead.

“it’s not porn! it’s romance!”

“porn with a plot!” his words are spoken with a dismissive wave of his hand in his post-surgery sling as he walks toward our bedroom.

“shut up!” Luke’s voice drifts out from his bedroom, and i can only imagine him with his pillow pressed against his ear. “i don’t wanna hear your freaky sex talk! some of us are trying to have a pregame nap!”

Jack throws his head back in laughter, the tips of my ears turning red at Luke’s assumption.

“go to sleep, before you upset my son.” i huff, waving Jack off.

“our son can’t get upset yet.” he reminds me, his brows furrowing in confusion.

“i know. i said my son.” i tell him. “Luke.”

“oh my god.” Jack groans, rolling his eyes before he turns and finally disappears down the hallway.

i hear our bedroom door click shut and let out a sigh of contentment.

Jack hasn’t given me any room to breathe for the past couple days. ever since we hit one week until the due-date, which is how early i had El, Jack has been hovering nonstop, just in case the baby decides he’s ready to make his grand entrance. but finally, it’s the last game of the regular season tonight, and with Jack, Luke, and El all taking naps, i get a couple hours to myself.

just me, my book, and the unborn child in my womb that is currently dancing on my bladder.

i heave out a sigh, bookmarking my page and shutting my book, letting it fall to the couch as i struggle to push myself up.

damnit, i should’ve had Jack help me up to pee before he went to sleep.

i finally, successfully, rise from the couch, waddling over to the bathroom and making it to the toilet just in time.

after washing my hands, i head into the kitchen and grab myself a water bottle and the tupperware of pre-cut fruit that Jack had prepared for me this morning, before making my way back to the couch.

**

my head is pounding, light pains in my stomach as i sit on the floor, waiting up for Jack and Luke to get home.

the Devils lost to the Islanders 4-1, and i know both the boys are gonna need cheering up. even though Jack sat in a suite the entire game and didn’t play, i know he feels the loss just as hard as the rest of his teammates.

El is wired from her two naps of the day, currently decked out in a princess dress with a lab coat over it as she plays doctor, checking my bump for any ‘boo-boo’s, but i don’t have the energy to fight her on going to bed.

El’s play stethoscope is pressed against my bump, her wild blonde curls falling over her eyes as she looks down.

“mama.” she whispers, standing up straight and cupping my face.

“yes, lovely?” i coo, tucking a curl behind her ear.

“baby heart!” she points to my stomach, bending back down to press her plastic stethoscope against the stretched out fabric of my shirt.

“yeah? are you listening to the babies heart?” she nods enthusiastically, the stethoscope bouncing from its connection in her ears.

she rips it out though when she hears the front door unlock, her head snapping up towards the living room entrance, waiting to see who it is.

as soon as Jack rounds the corner, her little legs take off; her feet slapping against the hardwood floor as she runs over to him.

“daddy!” Jack’s face brightens at the sight of her, a small smile playing on his lips as he bends down, allowing El to wrap her arms around his neck.

“hi, lovely.” Jack presses a kiss to her cheek as she pulls back. “what are you still doing up? how come mommy didn’t put you to bed?”

“mommy, doesn’t have a single ounce of energy left to fight her into bed.” i sigh, letting my head fall back onto the sofa.

“uncle Luke’s got it.” Luke swoops in, pulling El up into his arms. “c’mon munchkin, you wanna wear your Elsa jammie’s tonight?”

“dark vader!” El screams, making Luke wince as he starts toward the hallways to her room.

“what has uncle Quinn done to you?” he shakes his head as they retreat.

Jack sighs, looking down at me on the floor. he huffs out a chuckle and shakes his head at me as i stretch grabby hands out to him, walking over and helping me up off the floor.

“you okay?” i run a hand through his overgrown hair, staring into his ocean blue eyes.

“yeah,” he starts, pausing when he sees me flinch. “are you?”

“mhm.” i nod, gritting my teeth as a sharp pain shoots through my abdomen and back.

“are you sure?” he asks, flattening the back of his hand to my forehead as if checking my temperature. i swat it away. “Lovie, if we need to go to the hospital, just tell me. better safe than sorry.”

“we don’t-” i’m cut off by El storming into the living room in her Darth Vader onesie, Luke chasing behind her with her toothbrush in hand.

“we gotta brush your teeth Ellie-Bug!” Luke catches up to her with his long legs, but not before she can try and scramble up my body, her hands pushing against my stomach and causing me to cringe in pain.

“alright, that’s it, we’re going.” Jack announces, stepping back.

“no.” i stand my ground, crossing my arms across my chest. “i’m fine, Jack. it’s just a few pains. nothing i can’t handle.”

and my words would’ve been believable, if it weren’t for the gush of liquid that begins to trickle down my legs.

“fuck.” i curse, squeezing my eyes shut as Jack retreats to the linen closet to retrieve a towel.

“mommy! potty! go!” El screams, her little index finger pointing towards the bathroom.

“no, lovely, mommy doesn’t need to potty.” i lift a foot as Jack sets a towel down to soak up the liquid, oddly calm given the circumstances.

“hey, sunshine,” Jack’s voice is soft as he squats down in front of our toddler. “you know how mommy and daddy have been telling you baby brother is in mommy’s tummy?”

“baby!” El squeals, making to come and rub my bump like she usually does, but Jack holds her back.

“yeah, a baby!” Jack grins, “well now baby brother is ready to come and meet you, doesn’t that sound fun?”

my eyes water at the calm and gentle approach he has to explaining the situation to our sweet girl, and how excited she seems to get as she nods her head.

“okay, so mommy and daddy are gonna go to the doctor’s, and uncle Luke is gonna stay here with you. is that okay?”

“yuke!” she shouts, her head whipping around to find Luke, who’s currently attending to me as i waddle towards my bedroom to get changed.

“i’m right here, munchkin.” Luke switches places with my husband, probably the better choice, as i’ll need someone to help me peel these leggings off and put new ones on, and i think Luke and i would both rather he not be the one to do it.

Jack makes quick work of helping me sit on our bed, peeling my leggings and underwear off before he helps me into new ones.

“you ready, love?” i question, suspiciously eyeing him and his strangely serene demeanor.

“shouldn’t i be asking you that question?” he smiles, helping me off the bed.

“oh, i know i’m not. but are you?” he guides me back out to the living room, past El’s bedroom, where i can hear Luke reading her a bedtime story, and towards the front door.

“yeah.” he nods as he opens the door. “i’m ready.”

“oh good. then, can you push him out for me?” Jack laughs loudly, helping me into the car.

“unfortunately, i can’t do that.” he reminds me, my lips turning down in a frown. “but i’ll tell you what i can do.”

he pauses to round the car, sliding into the drivers seat. his hand slips into mine, lacing our fingers together as he looks into my eyes.

“i can hold your hand, and remind you that at the end of all that pushing, we’re gonna have our baby boy.” his forehead rests against mine, dipping down to kiss my lips before he pulls away and begins driving to the hospital.

“fuck you and your sweet words.” i sigh, gripping the car door and squeezing his hand as another contraction comes along. “shit!”

**

sweat drips down my forehead as i push. Jack stands beside me, his hand tightly clutched in mine as he whispers reassuring words in my ear.

“i want my mom!” i sob, tears streaming down my cheeks as i stop pushing, looking towards Jack, who’s eyes are welled up with tears.

“i’m sorry,-” he pushes my hair back from sticking to my forehead.

“i want Ellen!” i clarify, squeezing my eyes shut as another contraction hits and i’m forced to begin pushing again.

“oh lovie,” my husband coos, resting his forehead against the side of my head. “mom is on her way. i promise.”

we were lucky in the sense that Ellen and Jim had already flew into town yesterday to attend the boys game tonight and wait for baby boy to arrive. but my labor happened so fast, that he had just gotten ahold of Ellen before i was told it was time to push.

“okay, take a breath, y/n.” the doctor speaks, “i can see his head crowning so this next push should be it.”

i take three deep breaths before i feel another contraction, pushing one last time before the sound of infant cries fill the room.

Jack squeezes my hand as i fall back on the hospital bed, after labor chills making my body shake.

“good job, mom!” the doctor cheers, “you have a seemingly healthy baby boy!”

the nurse rests him against my chest, handing him over to me, and i let out another sob at the sight of him.

“oh-” i stare down at his sweet face, running a finger along his cheek. “Jacky, he has your nose.”

i glance up at my husband, who looks at our baby with so much love; as if he’s the greatest thing in the world. his tears have finally spilled over, his hand reaching out to hold the back of our son’s head.

“he’s perfect, lovie.” his voice breaks, catching in his throat mid-sentence.

“our perfect baby boy.”

**

“he’s an angel.” Ellen coos, staring down at the baby in her arms.

“isn’t he perfect?” i smile softly, still waking up from my nap.

its now eight in the morning, and after the four a.m. birth and then first feeding an hour later, i only got three hours of sleep before Jack woke me up and told me his mother was getting restless to see her grandson and he knew i wanted to witness the meeting.

Luke and El should be arriving any moment, so we’re letting Jim and Ellen meet him before they get here.

“absolutely perfect.” Ellen smiles, looking back at Jack and i. my husband lays beside me in the hospital bed, his head resting on my shoulder as he snores.

i can’t imagine how tired he must be. he stayed awake the entire time i napped, just admiring our baby boy and attempting to do some one armed skin-on-skin with the help of a nurse; who advised better of my husband than to use his other arm, which is still in a sling after his shoulder surgery just six days prior.

“he has Jack’s nose.” Jim chuckles as his wife hands the baby off to him.

“that’s what i said.” i grin, turning my head to look down at my sleeping soulmate. i crane my neck, pecking a kiss to his nose, which makes him scrunch it in his sleep.

the room door swings open, Luke stepping through with El clutched in his arms, and i carefully shake Jack awake.

“hmm?” he groans, his eyes fluttering open before he sits up.

“El is here.” i whisper, just before our daughter squeals.

“mommy! daddy!” Luke sets her on the hospital bed and she clambers up our legs, gingerly settling down on Jack’s lap and wrapping her arms around his neck.

“hi, lovely. did you have a good night with uncle Luke?” Jack asks, huffing out a laugh at the sight of her messily done ponytail. she nods, her curls bouncing on top of her head.

“her hair is wild, don’t blame me.” Luke huffs, taking the baby from his father’s arms.

“oh my god, he’s precious.” Luke smiles softly at the baby in his arms as he walks toward the bed.

“you see your baby brother, El?” i question, and her eyes widen as Luke hands my son back to me.

my daughter’s lips part, her hand reaching out to touch the babies foot.

“baby?” she whispers, looking up at Jack and he nods.

“yeah, lovely. that’s the baby that was in mommy’s tummy.” her eyes flicker between the baby and my stomach at his words, and i giggle.

“yeah, there’s nothing in there anymore, lovebug.” i tell her.

“baby.” she repeats, her touch raising to his tiny hands.

“hey, mom?” Jack calls out, Ellen looking over at him with raised brows. “you mind facetiming Quinny?”

“yeah, of course.” she nods, digging her phone out of her purse.

i feel a slight twinge of guilt as i hear the facetime ring, feeling a little bad to be waking Quinn up at five in the morning on a game day, but i know he’ll be excited to see the baby.

“mom? what’s up?” Quinn’s voice is groggy when the call connects, and instead of answering, Ellen just hands the phone to Jack.

“hey, Quinny.” my husband grins, letting El wave hello to her uncle.

“hey Jacky, hi El-Bell.” Quinn rubs his eyes, sitting up in his bed. “what’s going on? i have a game tonight, bro.”

“i know. but, i thought you might wanna meet someone.” Jack flips the phone around, pointing it to me and i hold the baby up better so that Quinn can see.

“oh my god.” Quinn’s seemingly more awake now, bringing the phone closer to his face. “you had him.”

tears well in my eyes, an overwhelming sense of longing for my big brother figure’s presence creeping up on me as i nod.

“i had him.” i confirm.

“he’s beautiful, guys.” Quinn smiles as Jack slots himself and El into the frame, showing off all four of us. “what’s his name?”

i share a glance with Jack and he nods, giving me permission.

“Elio Quintin Hughes.” i smile softly, my tears spilling over my waterline as Quinn gapes.

i hear Ellen let out a little sob, and i glance over to find Jim pulling her in for a hug.

“you named him after… me?” Quinn asks, and even through the phone screen, i can see tears glistening in his eyes.

Jack nods.

“it only seemed right.” i explain. “if it weren’t for you, Jack and i wouldn’t have met. you guys are the family that i desperately wished for growing up, and if it weren’t for you, i wouldn’t have it now either.”

tears stain Quinn’s cheeks, “i love you, y/n. and you too, i guess, Jack.”

Jack laughs, huffing out a “we love you too.”

we stay on the call for another hour, letting El talk to her uncle, and us telling him how the birth went, before he excuses himself, telling us he should probably get a bit more sleep before morning skate.

Jack hands the phone back to Ellen, who snaps a picture of the four of us squished together in the hospital bed.

my little family.