#<- for what the tags shall entail

[mars-ipan]

talking to my mom is such a blast. meeting of the minds

[rin-solo]

Ages ago, I promised a sequel to my Ruthlessness sketches with my new Poseidon design, and well... See, I had a very specific vision for this, my beloved 🫶 favorite song in the whole entire musical. And I guess I was finally brave en- I mean, found the time to bring it to life. Enjoy 🙈🌊🔱

@glisten-inthedark look at what I've done now

[decayedgloria]

sundress szn pt. 3

ft. Ayato, Thoma, Itto

Summer is creeping up on the city, so you decide to wear a garment fit for the occasion…

Tags:  nsfw under cut, i was lacking in the inazuma department therefore i wrote this, i love my bbgs tho, public/semi-public, established relationships, afab!reader, reader is a tease in some of them thoma’s lol, submissive themes, I popped off on Itto’s LMFAO

Word Count: ~1.2k words, not proofread

Ayato

Inazuma’s summers were getting increasingly hotter as its borders opened following the arrival of the Traveller. Whether it was the Shogun’s doing or not didn’t matter, all you knew was that you definitely needed some new dresses. 

As you stood in the Kamisato Estate’s courtyard fanning yourself, patiently waiting for your husband to arrive home, you began growing annoyed as the wind kept picking up the bottom of your dress. It was short, and makeshift in a sense, as it was an older dress you had hastily cut up in the name of fashion (and the weather). You were starting to regret it- you really did not want the estate’s staff see the… questionable marks your husband left on your behind the night before.

A blush began to creep up on your face as you recount how his nimble hands worked on your body, causing you to fan yourself faster. As if Barbatos himself saw your predicament, a strong gust of wind suddenly swept through the courtyard, ultimately lifting your dress up to reveal an indecent view. Being so lost in thought your hands tried to rush to pull it down once more, but your clumsy fingers end up dropping your fan in the process.

“Shit…” You cursed quietly, bending your knees so you could pick up the fan without compromising your dignity. As you quickly rise, you eyes caught a glimpse of your husband’s familiar white suit at the gate, filling you with happiness and relief. Making your way towards him, you gave him a welcoming smile and quickly pecked him on his cheek.

“Welcome home, my love.” Your greeting was met with Ayato’s silent gaze, surprising you. Usually, he’d shower you in kisses and affections as soon as he returned, however this time his eyes seemed to scour your entire being, taking in exactly what you were wearing. You find yourself blushing again, realizing that he was indeed checking you out.

“Darling…” His voice was just as low as it was last night, sending shivers down your spine despite the heat. “This dress that you have on is quite small.” He raises a gloved hand to your waist, pulling you closer to him as he leans in and whispers, “Shall we take it off and find a better garment?”

You knew exactly what his words entailed. Despite the growing heat inside and outside of you, you relented; following him as he leads you back into the mansion, hands all but gripping your waist tightly.

Thoma

Thoma’s off days were far and few in between, so today was somewhat of a special occasion. As it had been a while, he wanted to treat you to a date in the city, and who were you to refuse your boyfriend? Especially considering how hardworking he was. You had decided to sweeten the day a little bit by donning the dress you had forgotten about in your closet; it was considerably tighter, and a little short, but nonetheless perfect for the hot Inazuman summer.

As you walked with Thoma through the city, you couldn’t help but notice how flustered he suddenly became. His eyes were constantly darting around the streets, avoiding looking at you, but his hands found themselves barely touching above your ass- he was holding himself back, you knew then. 

Smirking, you usher Thoma to the back of an alleyway and before he could object, pushed him against the wall. Both of you were out of sight, which gave you the perfect opportunity to watch as his green eyes widened when your hands made their way to cup the growing bulge in his pants.

“Ah… are you sure?” He asks apprehensively, though the mischievous glint in your eyes told him everything he knew. Soft whimpers escaped his lips as you kept up your minstrations, his hands positioning themselves under your dress to squeeze your plump cheeks.

“Look at you, already so hard.” You teased, kissing his jaw as he tried to silence himself for fear of getting found out. “Was it my dress, baby? Do you like it that much?” With a feeble nod, he shudders as he feels you undoing his pants and freeing his hardened cock, stroking it with your fingers. 

Sinking to your knees, you grinned up at your pretty boyfriend, who shivers under your touch. If Thoma liked your dress so much, maybe you should consider wearing similar ones more often, especially if it gets your boyfriend as flustered and turned on as this.

Itto

What was it, the third time in the last two weeks? You sigh as you trudged through the city jail, following a guard as you make your way to the cell that currently housed your reckless boyfriend. The oni had gotten himself into trouble with Kujou Sara again, and for what you didn’t want to know; hearing that he was thrown in there for the upteenth time on the day you both agreed to hang out was enough to irritate you beyond belief.

As you neared his cell, you began to hear his boisterous voice carry through the hallway, growing louder and louder accompanied by metal shaking. The guard threw a glance at you, probably feeling a little bad that you somehow ended up as Itto’s girlfriend. Rounding the corner, you’re met with the man himself banging on the cell bars, shouting to his heart's content, stopping only when you came into his line of sight.

“Hey! I told you guys I’m not guilty- hey, babe!” Smiling like an idiot and giving you a big wave, which in spite of your annoyance, you actually found quite cute. Disregarding the fact that he was behind bars. You toss a bag of mora to the guard for the trouble as you drag Itto out of the jail, scolding him repeatedly.

“I told you to stop getting arrested, and where do you end up on the day that we planned to go on a date? Jail!” 

“I told you it wasn’t my fault, babe! I’m sorry- ow!” You continue to chastise him, pulling his ear as you both make your way through the streets, earning a few glances. Once you had him in a secluded alley, you turned towards him and glared, crossing your arms in a huff. Unbeknownst to you, you were highlighting what might’ve been Itto’s favorite part of you by doing so- your chest.

The oni’s mouth was watering as your complaints went into one ear and out the other, preoccupied by your assets- actually, your entire body seemed to entice him this particular day. Surely, it had nothing to do with the cute dress that barely covered your ass, right?

In the midst of your rant, Itto suddenly backs you up against the wall, caging you in his strong arms as he leans down to your height. “Whoa there, sweetcheeks. There’s no need to get so worked up now.” His breath was warm against your face as you stared at him in confusion, unsure of the reason for his mood change. Before you could retort, the oni hoists one of your legs up against his side, leaving your clothed pussy right in the open. 

His fingers get to work right away, rubbing against your slickening folds as he kisses you passionately. Your mind goes blank from the sudden pleasure, only being able to moan into his lips as he toys with your pussy. When he finally pulled away, you had been reduced to a writhing mess underneath him, panting and moaning like a little whore.

“Let me make it up to ya, ‘kay?”

There was supposed to be one more character but I couldn't write anything else so here you guys go lol

also sorry thoma enjoyers i made his criminally short :(((

[bonbonly]

I NEED MORE CARLOS🙏🏽🙏🏽 ANYTHING CARLOS 🙏🏽🙏🏽 PLEASE BONNN🙏🏽🙏🏽

YOU ASK AND I SHALL DELIVER ALSO GUESS WHO'S BACK IN HER DORM LETS GOOOOO!!!! ALSO I MISSED WRITING COLLEGE!AU CARLOS X ART STUDENT!READER SO HERE YOU GO

bon's thoughts (18+)

college!au carlos sainz is circling around an art exhibition with his mother. it's one where his mother was personally invited to by a patron, and of course, carlos forced his mother to let you tag along. forced really wouldn't be the right word because his mother loved you, but his father kept telling him to let you rest since you had just come back from a week of stressful final exams. carlos reasoned it was your vacation, a well deserved break and with a pout, you packed all your bags and went with him and his mother.

he sees you across the room, looking at a large painting. you look so pretty, so elegant and put together. a soft smile on your lips, your hands behind your back, resting on the curve of your ass. he smirks, loving the way the dress hugs your curves and he's just about to walk over and make a teasing joke when he sees a man approach you. already off on a bad start because this man just places his hand on the small of your back, leaning in close to ask you a question that makes you laugh out loud. oh, carlos doesn't like that. he's scowling at the scene in front of him, he doesn't even noticed his mother nudging him with her elbow, asking him if he's seen you.

"no i haven't," he mutters, averting his eyes. no that couldn't be you. you knew better than that. if it was you, you'd have come over and by now and asked him to come accompany you to the other part of the exhibit. but you never do, too busy wrapped around this man's finger and laughing to whatever he has to say, walking with him way too close for carlos' liking. he's biting the inside of his cheek, slipping through the crowd to follow you, watching the wine in the man's cup sway back and forth.

and then it happened. the drink sloshes onto your dress which makes carlos scoff, he got the dress for you at a very expensive price and this man just ruined it! the man mutters some apologies, taking out a handkerchief and dabbing the stain off of...top of your breasts. his fingers slide against your skin, and you reassure the man that it's ok, he didn't have to apologize, stuff like this happens! the man steps back from you a bit with a sheepish look and you frown, opening your mouth to say something when you feel a presence towering from behind you.

"that's enough, mi vida. i think i can ask mama to get you a new dress," carlos' words are sharp, his eyes narrowing at the sight of you with wide eyes, completely oblivious to why he's so upset.

the dress would take some time to be delivered, which left you scrunching up wet paper towels and trying to blot the stain away. only problem was that through the reflection of the mirror, you saw carlos enter and you gasp out loud,

"carlos! this is a woman's bathroom! get out right-"

"that didn't stop us in college," carlos snorts, his hands fidgeting with the zipper of your dress. he yanks your dress off your shoulders, letting your tits spill out. the cold air makes your breath hitch, his hands kneading the soft flesh before carrying you to the last, large stall in the corner of the bathroom. his footsteps are deafening, each a punctuating remark about his mood which could only entail what your poor body's about to endure. he has you against the wall, one hand on your throat and the other hiking up your dress, slipping his thumb into your panties as it searches for your clit. his touch is teasing, slow and deliberate.

"i thought you were better than this," he snickers, squeezing your throat just slightly. you part your lips, a hand wrapping around his wrist, trying to push him away from your sensitive pearl but he's pushing on your clit harder, thumb moving achingly slow. "oh princesa, don't tell me you've gone quiet now. that mouth of yours should be running, no?"

"if you keep going, i might tell your precious mama that-" you whine when his thumb picks up pace, a dangerous glint in his eyes as he grins,

"tell my mama that i fuck you every night? that the reason i convinced them to let you stay at my house is because i just can't resist you? i'm sure my mama would love to know her precious son is out fucking the girl she welcomed in with open arms," carlos leans close, licking your bottom lip before nipping at it. you choke back another whine his fingers slide along your folds, already crying for him to give you the pleasure you wanted. he lets his fingers into your heat, thrusting in and out as you're bucking your hips, chasing after your orgasm but no sooner do you do that, he stills himself entirely and gazes at you with a very cruel grin. "you want it? beg... because i thought that man outside was occupying all your attention. don't think you really need me, do you?"

his fingers continue to torment you, and his other hand slides from your throat to rub hard, fast circles on your clit as he's curling his digits inside you, hitting the spot that makes you see stars. and as if you can't learn, you whine to him that you're about to cum only for him to stop immediately. this cycle continues for at least another 3 times, and by the end you're sobbing. your mascara's running down your cheek, you're sniffling and hiccupping.

"c-carlos please... please," you whisper, your hips continuing to grind against him and he purses his lips, pretending to be deep in thought. he glances at his watch on his hand, flicking his wrist to let the accessory shift properly so he can see the time. you had 5 minutes to spare before his mother would call him and you to come see a new gallery. he sighs, bringing a hand to your shoulder and guiding you to your knees,

"if you can suck my cock good enough, mi pequeña zorra, i might let you cum." your hands are flying to unbuckle his belt, bringing his pants down as you open your mouth obediently, letting him fuck your throat.

[russellsppttemplates]

All the milestones (Lando Norris)

Fraser came earthside earlier than you expected

Note: english is not my first language. Believe it or not, I'm also a preemie (genetically and health wise, I am a catch, I know). Jokes aside as this is a serious topic, I was born at thirty three weeks because of some complications and it all turned out well, but I am aware of what it entailed from people telling me and it isn't something I've seen around here! Knowing that the diversity I write brings comfort to read and to ask this warms my heart up so much 🫶 I'm also basing this off of my mum's experience!

Thank you so much to everyone who likes and reblogs, your feedback is appreciated 🤍 and I'm taking requests so if you have any ideas or concepts you want to share, feel free to do so as I'll try to get to them the best I can!

my masterlist

Tw: mentions c-section and themes related to hospital stays and procedures, prematurity, pre-eclampsia

Tag list: @myloverjk-blog

"I'm really sorry I can't go with you, darling", Lando apoligised as he set the plate with lunch in front of you, "it's okay, it's just an ultrasound", you responded, "we're just going to check if everything is alright with you, right, little one?", you tapped your babybump softly. At thirty weeks pregnant, you were starting to feel the tiredness and aches like you had felt in your previous pregnancy, only now you had a toddler to look after as well, so you had been taking it easy. Fortunately, you were able to juggle work and family life in a way that allowed you to make the minimum compromise to both spheres of your life.

"Drink your water, baby", Lando reminded you, tapping the jug, "I'm going to pick up my dad from the airport and then we'll both get Tilly. Are you feeling like going out for dinner or should I get take out and we eat here?", he questioned, taking a bite of his food.

"I'd prefer to stay in", you stated, "are you feeling like anything special?", he asked back.

"Right now I can't think of anything", you offered, not really looking forward to eating the delicious food in front of you if you were really being honest. Still, you manage to eat the most of it.

"Have a good meeting, Lan, I love you", you said as you put your coat on, grabbing your bag with all your documents.

"Be safe, okay, baby?", he checked, kissing the top of your head and then kissing your baby bump, "and you too, buddy, keep yourself and mummy safe and sound, don't give her too much trouble", he said, helping you out of the door before you went on your separate ways, "I love you, gorgeous mummy!", he winked before he got inside his car.

Once you arrived at the hospital and checked yourself in, your midwife Amelia greeted you in the examination room, "how have you been feeling, Y/N?", she asked as she slipped the bad on your arm to get your blood pressure numbers, sending the urine sample to the lab.

"I've been feeling a little tired, especially compared to last time, which I can only put down to having Tilly, and she's a very calm child", you giggled, remaining quiet as the machine got your numbers.

"These look quite high, did you run up here?", she asked, "no, I got here earlier than I expected actually, I've been sitting on the waiting room for a bit", you scrunched your face.

"We'll just wait for your results and then we'll see if it's something we have to wordy about", she tranquilized, "let's see you baby boy, shall we?", she smiled as you lifted your shirt, letting her apply the cream and move the wand around.

"There's your son, Y/N", she smiled, "He's a bit quiet, but the heartbeat sounds good", she smiled, taking a few more pictures so you could bring them home for Lando and Matilda to see.

A knock on the door alerted you both as Amelia was taking your measurements, "I have the results for Y/N Y/L/N-Norris", your OB checked, seeing you in the room, "Hi, Y/N, I thought I'd only see you later", she said as she walked in. She pulled on a stool and sat on it, "your results are indicating that you might be in pre-eclampsia", she said as she showed the tablet's screen to Amelia, her stern expression confirming your suspicions on how serious the situation was, "your body is having trouble keeping up with everything, hence your high blood pressure and your urine results suggest your kidneys are working overtime as well", Dr. Martin said as you straightened up, hands coming to wrap around your baby bump protectively, "your baby is fine, so that's not a big worry, but we do think it would be best if we delivered him tonight", she advised.

"But he's too small", you argued.

"You're at thirty weeks, which isn't ideal, but the survival rate is very very high for babies born at this time, and we also have a team that is specialised in preemie care, so he will be in the best hands", she comforted, "we need to give you corticosteroids to make sure the baby's lungs are ready for when he comes earthside, we'll get you admitted and monitor you and the baby to make sure he's not struggling either. In a few days, depending on how this goes, we'll do a c-section. I know it's not ideal, but this is the best way to make sure you and baby boy stay safe".

Sighing, you nodded, "okay, whatever is best for both of us", you asserted, "I just need to call Lando - my father in-law is coming to stay for a bit and they're getting Matilda from school", you thought out loud.

"Absolutely, dear, everything is going to be just fine", Amelia conforted while Dr. Martin set you up to go to a room.

Lando helped Matilda up to her car seat, strapping her in as she spoke to his father, "and did you have a good day, princess?", Adam asked, "yes, we coloured lots and we saw a couple of butterflies when we were having our snack!", she smiled as Lando drove home.

The car system alerted them of a call from you, "hey, beautiful, I'm in the car with my father and Tilly - say hi to mummy, babygirl!", he encouraged, "Hi, mummy!", she cheered, "Hey Y/N", Adam greeted too.

"Hey, guys! Lando, can you give the phone to your dad, please?", you asked, "sure, love", he said as he disconnected the phone from the car, nodding his father to take the phone in the console.

"Hey, Y/N, is everything alright?", Adam asked over the phone, "Hey, Adam, I hope you travelled well! I'm not sure if Lando told you, but I had an appointment today, and it turns out I have to be admitted", you began, "I don't want to worry him, much less when he's driving, so as soon as you get home, can you tell him to call me back again, please? Baby Fraser might join us sooner than we expected", you mumbled, nerves obvious in your voice as Adam stayed with a neutral face.

"Absolutely, Y/N, I'll let him know", he said before hanging up.

"What was it? Is everything alright?", Lando asked, knowing there would be a reason as to why you didn't want to have everyone listening to the conversation.

Checking the rearview mirror to see Matilda playing with one of her books, Adam clarified Lando, "she is going to stay at the hospital for a little longer than she expected for some check ups, she didn't want Matilda to hear about it", he said. It wasn't too much of a lie, and he certainly didn't want to scare anyone and since Lando would be calling you anyway, it could wait for a bit, "she asked you to call her when you got home. Don't worry, I'll keep Matilda entertained", he smiled.

Once they arrived, Adam left his things in the guest bedroom and met Matilda in the kuchen, "grandpa will make you some snacks. What do you want, darling?", he asked as he urged Lando to go and make a call to you.

"Hi, baby", Lando said as you picked up, "dad said you wanted me to call you, is everything alright?", he asked as he stepped inside the bedroom, hanging his coat in the closet.

"Hi, my love", you sighed and sending Lando into alert, "when they did my check up, Amelia took my blood pressure and it was really high, and my urine sample didn't look great either. It turns out I'm in pre-eclampsia and they want to keep me for observation, and it's likely Fraser will join us in the next few days", you added, "I need you here -, and things for me", you let out.

"Are you okay? I'll start packing right away", he said as he put his phone on speaker, looking for pyjamas and toiletries.

"My blood pressure is high - so far there's no distress for the baby, and they want to keep him in for as long as they can", you explained, "I, I am fine staying here on my own, that's okay, but I really need you here for a bit", you asked, "of course, my love. I'm going to pack these up quick and I'll be there. I love you", he said before you said it back, putting his phone in his pocket and zipping the bag.

"Daddy, where are you going?", Matilda asked as she saw the bag, "princess, mummy is going to stay in the hospital for a bit so the doctors can make sure her and baby are okay, and daddy is going to take a few things for her", he announced, crouching down so he was at her level.

"Is mummy sick?", she pouted, "she's a little tired, so they're going to make sure she rests up as much as she can", he slipped out, "I'm going to be there for a little bit to giver her her pyjamas so she's comfy, and then I'll be right back, okay? Can you stay here with grandpa?", he asked.

"Okay, daddy", she said before walking away, "but wait!", she called from the hall.

"I'll get dinner started and tuck her in if it gets too late - she didn't want me to tell you until you were home", he apoligised, "I know, I know, thanks for being here, it was bloody good timing", Lando mused.

Matilda came back with one of her stuffed toys, a McLaren bear she loved, "this is for mummy, so she doesn't sleep alone", she smiled sweetly. Maybe her innocence was positive because it meant she was dealing with the situation quite well.

"I'll give it to mummy, baby girl, I bet she'll love it", he smiled, kissing her cheek and leaving to the garage so he could drive to the hospital.

When he arrived, Amelia walked up with him as she told you all there was to know, knocking on your room door before they stepped inside.

"Darling", he said, setting the bag down and sitting next to you on the bed, kissing your forehead protectively, "how are you?", he asked.

"Fine, although I don't think it has really sunk in", you mumbled, playing with his fingers, "how is Tilly?", you wondered.

"She gave you Mr. Brown", he said as he fished out the bear from the bag, "she said she wanted you to have it so you wouldn't be alone in here", he smiled.

After spending as much time as he could with you, he bid you goodbye and went home, finding his father washing up the dishes as Matilda got her pyjamas on for the night, "I have a tupperware for you in the fridge if you want something to eat".

"Thanks, I've got it from here though - c'mon, little miss, we're going to sleep!", Lando hoisted her up, holding her on his hip as they walked upstairs to the bedroom, "can I sleep in your bed, daddy?", Matilda spoke in a small voice, "I don't want you to be alone either", she admitted.

Smiling at her sweetness, he nodded, "of course you can, love. Mummy sent her goodnight wishes for you, and maybe we can visit her tomorrow, how does that sound?", he smiled, "yes, please, daddy!".

.

"I made these for you, mummy, so your room is nice and colourful!", Matilda smiled as Lando let you in for a cuddle, your little girl getting help from her grandfather at ripping the tape so she could display her drawings she brought you almost daily, only missing days where Landk hadn't been able to bring her to the hospital because of their schedules.

"That's beautiful, darling, thank you so much", you gushed before turning to Lando, "has she cried again?", you whispered. You had been in the hospital for five days now, and two nights ago Matilda started with what was a tantrum at first and then evolved to crying about the fact that you weren't home. Lando was able to talk it out with her, welcoming her and allowing her to talk about how she was feeling and how it was beyond the fact that her tights were itching her.

"No, yesterday she told me she couldn't wait for you to come home, and that you were taking longer than she liked", he snickered, "always little miss rushing when it comes to you", he kissed the side of your head. Even though she was a daddy's girl through and through, she never made you feel left out.

"Y/N", Dr. Martin called after she stepped inside the room, "Oh, Matilda, you're so grown up already! Time flies by", she said as she waved at your little girl while Adam pulled her to sit on his lap, whispering "That's mummy's doctor, she is going to check up on her so you have to keep quiet, okay?" into her ear.

"I was checking your results, and I think between tonight and tomorrow, we might have to deliver your baby boy", she stated, everyone in the room straightening up as Matilda tried to read the adults' faces.

"His lungs look really good in the ultrasound we did this morning - as you know those were our biggest concerns, so we'll come up to monitor you, okay?", she rubbed your shoulder comfortingly before excusing herself.

"Well, I think it's best if we get going, then", Adam said as he got up, coming up to kiss the top of your head and squeeze your hand in his.

"Mummy, I know you're going to do very well", she said, earning small giggles around the room, "when can I come and meet the baby?", she stepped up to give you a kiss.

"We will have to see how it all goes, princess, but when you can, you'll be the first to come, okay?", you smiled, brushing the curls out of her eyes and kissing her head.

"I'll drop these guys home, get the baby bag and then I'll be back", Lando said, kissing your lips and your baby bump, "you stay in there for just a little longer, okay buddy?".

By the time Lando got back to the hospital, you had already been given a few medications to prep you for the c-section, "Kelly and Max advised that I shopped for some smaller clothes, so I have those in there", he tapped the baby bag, "and how are you feeling?", he cupped your cheek.

"My blood pressure is really high, so they're thinking about putting me under, like, full body anesthesia", you bit your lip. Getting surgery was already a big thing, but being completely under was another.

"Oh, okay", Lando gulped, "they won't let me be in there then", he realised, "that's not how we wanted this to happen, but it's going to be okay, gorgeous. You're the strongest woman I know, you're going to be just fine", he smiled, "and our baby boy will come out screaming and he will be the strongest little one ever", he said, trying to convince you and himself of his words. He was scared too, but it wouldn't do you both any good to dwell on it too much.

Knocking on the door, one of the lovely interns and Amelia came to get you, "are we all ready? I'm afraid you already know this, Lando, but you won't, be able to be with us in the OR", she apoligised, "I'll wait right here, if that's okay", your husband suggested, kissing you one last time before they wheeled you off, "I love you, Y/N", he muttered against your lips.

While he waited, he looked at the drawings in the room with precise attention, finding one where Matilda drew the four of you, her brother in your arms and Lando holding her hand, names scribbled under each person in Adam's writing.

Less than an hour later, Amelia stepped into the room, Lando getting up from his spot on the chair immediately, "everything went well, they were weaning Y/N off of the anesthesia, she's going to the PACU until she wakes up and then back here", she smiled, "your little boy is in the neonatal unit, do you want to come and meet him?", she asked, Lando letting out a sigh of relief at her words, "I'll let you know when Y/N comes back to the room", she ensured, having been in the job long enough to know the dilemma of wanting to be in two places at the same time.

"Yes, let's go", he said as he straightened up his sweater, "can I hug you?", he allowed himself to feel emotional, Amelia's open arms offering him a little comfort, "they're both alright, Lando, you have such a beautiful family", she cooed.

Walking with him to the neonatal care unit, she helped him into one of the gowns as they greeted the other parents inside along with all of the staff, "this is your little boy", she said, offering him a sanitizer for his hands, "he can't eat on his own just yet, so that single tube on his nose is feeding him, the other one is giving him oxygen, and those stickers are to make sure his heart is doing okay - little milestones and little victories", she explained as Lando took him in.

Surely, he was much smaller than Matilda, but he could already spot some similarities, "Can I touch him?", he asked, weary of disturbing the perfectly architected environment inside the incubator, "yes, of course! Just be mindful of the wires and tubes", she encouraged, opening the little doors so Lando could touch your son.

"Hey, buddy", he spoke as he touched his tiny fingers, "you're already such a fighter, breathing so well without ventilation", he cooed. He looked up all the complications and when he didn't see a mechanical ventilator, he couldn't help but feel proud of the baby, "he is, we did all the tests and for now supplemental oxygen seems to be enough", Dr. Martin said softly, not wanting to spook them as she showed up, "everything went well with Y/N, she should make a full recovery once it heals", she rubbed his back.

"Thank you", he said, keeping the tears at bay as he looked back at Fraser, "you're so tiny they had to roll up your diaper, hm little love?", he spoke, "there are so many people who love you and they have so much of it to give you".

A little while later, Amelia told him they were taking you up to your room, so Lando said goodbye to Fraser, "I'm going to see mummy, Fraser, and I'm going to tell her how much of a higher you are, I love you", he cooed one last time, rubbing his arm before taking his hands away, closing the little doors and folding the gown for later.

Walking into the corridor to your room, Lando could spot you in the other end, smiling as you spotted him too, "nearly beat you in this race", you smiled at him as he gestured for them to wheel you into the room, "everything went as expected, Dr. Martin will be up shortly to speak to you two", one of the interns said.

"How are you feeling, gorgeous?", he said, brushing your hair away from your eyes and behind your ears, "I'm fine, the meds are helping with the pain, I'm sure", you giggled, "they gave me a good dose".

"That's nice, at least", he said, "I've texted everyone to let them know you were okay and everything went well", he added.

"Have you seen him yet?", you asked, "yes, I have", Lando beamed, "He's very tiny and he looks a little bit like Tilly already. And he's such a fighter, too! He only had those little pin-like tubes to help him breathe, they didn't need any incisions or anything. I would've taken a picture but I couldn't take my hands away from him", he admitted.

"Hopefully soon I can see him", you gulped, knowing it would off the books for a bit since you had abdominal surgery.

"All in due course, baby. I'm so happy you're both fine", he kissed your forehead.

.

"I just want to hold my baby!", you hiccuped, wiping the tears falling on your cheeks while Amelia conforted you, "just one more day, Y/N, maybe two at maximum to make sure you're healing well, too", she smiled apologetically.

A knock on the door alerted you as Lando and Matilda walked inside, making you wipe your cheeks quickly, "mummy!", she cheered softly, approaching you and climbing on the bed softly since she knew you were healing, "have you been crying, mummy?", she said, hugging your arm and resting her head there.

"Mummy is upset because I can't go and see Fraser today", you explained as Lando kissed the top of your head.

Amelia excused herself as you caught up with everything back home, "grandpa asked me to give you kisses", Matilda recalled as she kissed your cheeks, "his plane has landed alresdy", Lando added, "That's nice of him, thank you darling".

"We can go and meet Fraser, Tilly", Lando said as the window they allowed visitors in was coming to the half-time mark, "I'm going to give him loads of kisses from you mummy, don't worry about it!", your daughter said sweetly as she climbed off the bed, "I'm going to try and FaceTime, okay?", Lando confirmed, handing you your phone before they left for the neonatal unit.

"Matilda, darling, you have to put this on, okay?", one of the nurses gave her a mask, "she's in nursery and she might have caught some bug that isn't showing symptoms yet and it could be harmful for the babies", he checked with Lando as your husband nodded.

"It's like a costume, Tilly!", Lando tried to make it fun for her, adjusting the gown and then the mask around her face, "you can't go around touching things, okay princess?", he stated as she nodded, ready to meet her little brother.

Lando got himself gowned and led them to Fraser's incubator, "that is Fraser, baby", he cooed, typing on his phone inside the clear bag and FaceTiming you like he promised so you too could see the moment they met for the first time.

"He's so tiny", she gasped, standing on the stepping stool so she could see him properly, "I can't kiss him, can I?", she asked and Lando shook his head, watching you smile on the screen, "I'm going to blow him the kisses I have from mummy then", she said, her hand making the movements from her covered mouth to her brother, "I love you, Fraser, and mummy loves you too, she can't be getting because her tummy still hurts a little", she told him.

"This just makes you want to have another right away, doesn't it?", Lando croaked out as he wiped a tear from his eye, your wide eyes looking at him, "not anywhere in the near future - my body knows that much!", you giggled at the soft sight, "but it is incredibly cute, yes", you smiled as tears fell on your cheeks too.

"Look, mummy! He moved his hand, he's saying hello to you", Matilda smiled, "He's saying he wants to see you, too!".

.

You were finally able to stand up and sit in a wheelchair, so your other goal for the day was going to see your son.

Amelia was the first to say she would take you, helping you sit and getting you there, "That's your little boy right there", she pointed as you were filled with giddiness and excitement.

Wheeling you to face plastic bassinet, your hand went straight inside, "he doesn't need oxygen anymore?", you asked his doctor, noticing the single tube you recognised as a feeding tube, "no, not anymore", he said, "we ran some tests this morning and he's doing just fine on his own, strong set of lungs he has! He woke two of the other babies up yesterday", he smiled.

Chuckling, you touched his arm softly, his hands opening and closing, "do you want to hold him?", he asked, catching you by surprise. Until now, no one ever held him as to make sure the treatments being done were working as best as they could.

"Can I?", you asked, eyes hopeful, "me and the rest of the team think he's finally strong enough to move out of here actually", he added, "not enough to go home just yet, but he can be in your room. This way you can have him close to you and of anything happens or you need help, the staff in your floor know what to do. He just needs to be able to feed without a pump, so either breastfeeding or bottle feeding", he stated.

"Wow, okay, I wasn't expecting this, I was so happy that I got to see him", you teared up, bringing your arms to position so the doctor could place your baby in your arms, mindful of the feeding tube that was still in him, "hey, my love", you cooed, touching his cheeks, "I'm your mummy. I know you were rushed out of my tummy, and it was scary for both of us, but it's looking up now", you cried, Amelia wiping your cheeks as she smiled too.

"Do you mind if we take his tube out now? Might be a little better for this little guy to be in his mummy's chest", the doctor suggested, getting the supplies he needed and setting them in the tray.

"It's okay, little guy", he said as he pulled it out, baby Fraser crying at the discomfort you could only imagine as you rubbed his back, "it's okay, my love, mummy's here to make it better", you shushed him, kissing his head multiple times.

"There, all done!", the doctor said, "if you want, you can feed him here or in your room, where you feel best", he wondered, "could we go to the room, please? I have my supplies there, too", you asked.

You had been pumping milk out since it came in, and you were finally able to feed him straight from your nipple, "okay, little one, you can't get lazy on us now that mummy has you in her room", Amelia encouraged, tapping his cheek slightly as he began suckling on your nipple, "there we go!", she cheered, "I told you it would get better, didn't I?", she winked at you.

When Lando and Matilda came for their daily visit, they didn't expect to see you walking around the room, your back facing the door, "you're up, mummy, that's good!", your daughter said as you turned around, showing her brother on your chest, "oh", she gasped.

"He passed all his tests, and he's getting chubby too", you cooed, squishing his thigh softly as Lando took the sight in, Matilda holding onto you as you patted her head and held your son. Your family was complete.

"That's daddy, Fraser", you cooed, pointing at Lando as your baby boy looked around to the two new people in the room.

"Can I have a cuddle?", Lando whispered before you transferred Fraser to his arms, your little boy curling up against him just like he had been curled up to you.

"Does this mean you get to go home?", Matilda asked, hugging you properly as you sat down on the bed with her, "not for a few days still, they just need to make sure Fraser is alright", you informed, "then we can go home and the four of us are going to have loads of fun", you smiled.

.

"Tilly, can you help me here, please?", Lando called as her footsteps approached your bedroom, "can you get me that bedding from the drawer, please?", Lando asked as he held the mattres up, not wanting to miss the exact placement of the sheet, "thank you, baby, you're such a clever girl", he complimented, folding the corner in and letting the mattress fall back into place.

"When mummy comes home tonight, is Fraser coming with her?", she wondered, touching the next to me bassinet you kept in your room for the baby to sleep in the first few months, "yes, he is, he's finally good and big enough to come home, no more hospital visits", Lando sighed. The last couple of weeks were hard. Juggling things on his own made him even more appreciative of you and the efforts you made to make sure everything was smoothly running in the house, as well of your friends and family who suported your family in every way they could.

"That's going to be nice, the hospital smells funny", she scrunched up her nose, "and it's going to be like before but with baby Fraser?", she wondered.

"At first mummy will need our help in many things - she still has some recovery to do, but then it will be back to normal, yes", Lando offered, "and we'll have Fraser to go with us in our adventures".

"I can't wait to show him my soft blankets and my toys", she beamed, helping Lando with the bed and then getting ready to pick you up from the hospital.

"Thank you again for all of your work and dedication, we truly can't say it enough for all you've done for our family", Lando said to the team as they discharged you from the hospital, waving at Fraser in his carrier as he looked around.

By the time the four of you were back home, you ate dinner on the sofa, Matilda cuddled up to your side while Fraser slept in your chest, Lando holding the four of you in his embrace as much a she could, "we're finally all together", you smiled, "the Norris family is all together in one place we it should be", he said, kissing your lips softly, hand coming to rest on top of yours in Fraser's back as Matilda smiled up at you, "this is the best day ever", she murmured.

Post partum blurb

[bellarkeselection]

1 - Welcoming the Bridgerton’s

Part 2

The Venus Muse

Here's the first chapter y'all! I am sorry to say that I couldn't tag some of you that asked to be added. If you could give me an update profile tag I will add you that way.

Buckingham Palace was always busy with something going on. The royal castle had many children over the years running around it. I knew this place better than anyone else could imagine. And that truth will help me change my life forever. 

“Your highness, which tiara would you wish for today?” One of my handmaidens named Sunset asked me. 

She was standing by my table vanity that had quite a few tiaras sitting on top of them. Sitting on my bed the fabric of my golden dress swayed when I walked up to her. “The one with three center jewels and the pearl necklace.” 

“Of course, my lady.” She nodded where I lowered my head and she set the tiara in the center. 

The tiara sparkled when the light bounced off the light coming through the window. I stood in front of the tall mirror eyeing my gown that was golden, short sleeves decorated in lace and was long where you couldn’t see the short brown boots I wore unless my dress flew up from the wind. “Sunset, do you think my mother shall begin pressuring me this year?” 

“It is not my place to speak on.”

I reassured her otherwise. “Don’t worry about prying ears. I am asking for your opinion.” 

“I would say she seeks what is best for you, Lady Y/n.” Sunset answered with a shrug of her shoulders. 

Someone knocked on the outside of my door before another lady in waiting peaked her head inside. “Princess, your mother is coming this direction.” I nodded brushing my hands down the front of my dress. 

The door of my bedroom opened for me to see my mother, Lady Danbury and Brimsley all walking up to my room. “I yearn for someone fresh, someone unexpected,  to turn this season on its head. That is what we need. There is no room for indifference.  Apathy is a blight the monarchy simply cannot endure.” 

“Of course, Your Majesty. But remember, a young lady cannot be a diamond until you anoint her as such. So if for any reason you do not find one among the candidates today…” 

My mother cut off her friend. “Do you think she will return?  We have heard nary a peep from Lady Whistledown since last season ended. Perhaps the writer came to her senses. Perhaps she realized taking on her queen was a bad idea, and she will never publish again.”

Lady Danbury responded. “It is a convincing theory, ma'am.”

“Or she simply left for the country, as the rest of us did in the off-season, bored by the lack of any real gossip.”

Lady Danbury made a noise. “Hmm. “

“You do know what that would make her, then?” My mother Queen Charlotte trailed off. 

I finished her sentence being fair too noisy, needing to listen to the conversation of the famous gossiping writer. “One of us.”

“My darling daughter, you look radiant as ever.” My mother turned away from her friend to face me. 

I sent her a smile waving to Lady Danbury to not be rude. “It’s good to see you, Lady Danbury.” 

“Good to see you too, Princess Y/n.” She smiled. 

My mother clasped her hands together in front of her puffy white dress. “I have been needing to speak with you and what this evening needs to entail for you and your happiness.” 

“You wish for me to marry a prince and provide heirs for the crown.” I rolled my eyes already thinking of the answer she would say. 

Yet to my surprise she said almost the opposite. “I wish for you to have happiness and many children. It would help if your husband was royalty, but it is not a requirement.” 

“It isn’t?” Knitting my brows in confusion. 

She takes my hands in hers. “I didn’t get the chance to search for love on my own. My brother arranged my marriage with your father. So I secretly hope that you, my firstborn daughter, can have some fun.” 

“Mother, I…that means so much to me.” I smiled through some happy tears. 

Footsteps came down the long hallway and around the corner before we saw my father’s servant named Reynolds. “My Queen, my princess. I have news.” He bowed with a hand behind his back. 

“What is it, Reynolds?” I asked him. 

He shifted his gaze to mine. “You're father is having an episode, Princess.” 

“Oh…” I made a noise in discomfort. I knew of his illness 

That was the secret my mother and the rest of my siblings and I kept hidden from thr world. They needed to believe that the king was just always busy and so his wide made the appearances out on the town. “Hmm it appears we may have to cancel the ball tonight for the Bridgertons.” My mother sighed in defeat knowing her husband came first. 

“We shall not cancel.” My mother and Reynolds’s both shifted their attention over to me when I had spoken up the opposite of what they assumed would need to be done. “We should not cancel because I can represent the family in your place, mother.” 

She tapped her chin in thought. “I suppose that could solve our problem. I don't wish to cancel the months of preparation that were put into this.” 

“Exactly that would be a tragedy.” 

The queen turned to her husband's helper with instructions. “Inform my husband I will come to his aid. Brimsley?” 

“Yes, your Majesty.” 

She gave him a different set of orders. “Inform the Viscount Bridgerton that my daughter shall be appearing tonight before myself.” He bowed and went in a different direction then Reynolds. 

“Thank you, mother.” I smiled curtseying to her before we parted for the evening. It was quite a few hours before the ball with our castle subjects and the Bridgertons would even begin. By the evening the moon was shining up in the sky and the grand ballroom was lit up like a christmas tree. 

Standing silently outside the currently shut double doors I stopped fiddling with my dress when one of the royal guards gave me a head nod saying it was time. I could hear the announcer's voice before the doors had even begun opening. “May I present to you her royal highness. The daughter of King George and Queen Charlotte, Princess Y.n of England.”

“Thank you, sir.” I whispered to another guard that came to me when I had made my entrance through the doors feeling all eyes on me. Sucking in a tiny breath he escorted me to the small throne before we unlinked arms leaving me on my own. The small crown on my head had never felt so heavy as it did right now. “Greetings my subjects. I am here to announce that my mother got called away tonight for an emergency. But she saw no reason why this event couldn’t go on as planned. So with that in mind let me extend a warm welcome to Violet Bridgerton and her family for traveling here for a few months.”

Everyone began clapping and cheering with an older looking woman who had dark brown hair up in a crown on her head that came up to me and gave a lovely curtsey. “Princess, it is a pleasure to get an invitation.”

“I hope I can get to meet your family greatly over your stay, Lady Bridgerton.”

“Princess Y/n, may I ask you something?” Someone called my name causing me to lift my gaze up noticing someone moving through the crowd. The figure paused beside the Bridgerton woman who seemed to give the man a confused but amused depression on her face. 

I clicked my tongue and answered the stranger's question. “What is your question, my lord?”

“I was wondering if you would accept my offer for a dance together this evening.” The stranger seemed similar to the woman he was standing beside him. I was fairly certain they were related, but which son was he if they were. 

He extended his hand up to me and I smiled, placing my smaller hand in his larger one. “I accept so long as I know which Bridgerton are you?”

“Benedict, Benedict Bridgerton.” He replied leading me out and onto the dance floor with the entire room having theur eyes focused on the two of us.

Comments really appreciated ❤️

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[the20thangel]

The Emperor and His Lady Chapter 7

Summary: Betrayals are ramped. Lucilla and Marcella unite to save a lady dear to them. Leaving Arabella to give Emperor Geta one last Ultimatum. Which will he choose?

Word Count: 2.5k

Tags: angst and violence

Taglist: @barcelonaloverf1life @justnobodynothingmore

Masterlist

After an hour, Arabella and Geta saw Caracalla finally calming down and his eyes starting to droop with sleep. Both helped up the younger twin and led him to his chambers. Geta took the liberty of placing his younger brother on his bed and covering him up. In a moment of vulnerability soothed the ginger’s hair. 

Sighing, he leaned away from his brother, turning back to Arabella, who stood at the front of the chamber door. Walking towards her, Geta grasped her waist, pressing a chaste kiss on her lips. 

“The sickness from his loins has started to travel to his head… every day, he seems to worsen, Arabella; I don’t know what to do with him,” Geta whispered, turning to watch as Caracalla snuggled further into his sheets. 

Arabella stared at the younger, feeling pity for his deteriorating health. Turning back to her emperor, she rubbed his arms and kissed his exposed chest. 

“Just keep doing what you have been, my love, showing him compassion and patience. It's all we can do to keep him comfortable,” she replied, sincerely smiling. 

The two lovers left to return to their chambers, not noticing someone in the background waiting to implant more of his poison. 

Macrinus crept into Caracalla’s chamber, watching the younger tossed and turned before noticing the older man. 

“Ah, my imperator, apologies for disturbing you after a hectic night; I just wanted to check on you… especially after I heard your brother struck you.” 

Caracalla sat up, notching his head to the side. “Yes, but Arabella was lovely to me and defended me from my brother… I miss the times when she and I were close.” 

Macrinus nodded, sitting on the bed, pondering before turning his attention back, “You two were close before, yes? What Changed? Once she started paying more attention to Geta? Poor girl, spending many years yearning for someone who always kept her at a distance… Where here you were always willing to be hers… Did you not notice that once you seemed more interested in Arabella, Geta came and swooped her from your grasp?” 

Caracalla nodded with wide eyes; what Macrinus had spoken about was true. He and Arabella were closer during their younger years… and Geta constantly humiliated her. And yes, after he showed interest that he wanted Arabella, his brother suddenly reciprocated the lady’s love. Why? Did Geta do it on purpose?

Macrinus smirked, seeing his words taking root, “I bet if Arabella had experienced your love, she would all but forgotten about Geta. Everything has always been for Geta, but what about you… what about Caracalla? Think about it, my emperor… I shall leave you to think… pleasant dreams.” 

Macrinus bowed before leaving Caracalla alone in the dark, his mind racing.

As the next day came upon the room, the mood seemed somber. Knowing what today entailed, Arabella did not have the energy to rise from her slumber. As she awoke, she quivered before nestling herself further into Geta’s arms. Wishing the embrace from her lover would take away the pain from her heart.  Unfortunately, it did not; as Geta rose, he knew her predicament and decided to leave her in the palace. The healer stressed Arabella needed to remain calm for their child, and he did not want to be the cause of any distress. 

As the emperor prepared for the day’s games, dressing in colors inspired by Apollo, he shook his hands to steady his nerves. Turning back to his bed, he saw his love lying on his cushions. She looked like a goddess. Walking to her, Geta raised her head, making the young lady stare at each other's eyes. 

“I’m sorry, my love, but it has to be done.” he apologized, hoping she understood why he had to execute her surrogate parents. 

Arabella closed her eyes, allowing a lone tear to fall as she nodded, knowing even if she protested , she knew that nothing could be done to change his mind. 

Geta smiled and deeply kissed his lady, “I love you, my sweet girl.” 

Eyes filled with tears, Arabella returned a smile to Geta, “and I adore you, My Geta.”

Her words encouraged him as Geta pressed one more kiss and left for the Colosseum. 

Arabella shakily exhaled, rising from the bed to change into a gown. As she slowly combed her hair, Marcella entered the room, giving her a small smile as the older woman prepared her. 

“How are you, sweet one?” asked the handmaiden. 

Arabella gulped, trying not to cry, “In torment, the man I love is signing the death warrant on the two people who cared for me all these years. I should hate him… but I can’t … I adore him, Marcella; it is why I kept my distance all those years; I have always loved him.” 

Marcella paused her work, staring at her lady with sympathy; she embraced the young woman’s shoulders. “Oh, my sweet girl, I wish I could help you save them…alas, General Acacius was kept under the Colosseum; he is to fight a group of guards and then a gladiator named Hano.” 

Arabella's eyes shook as Marcella’s voice blended into the background as she realized Lucius was not aiming for her or the emperors; he wanted Acacius. Lucius was going to kill the man she considered more her father than her actual father. 

Turning, Arabella questioned, “and Lucilla, what awaits for her?” 

Marcella shook her head, “I do not know yet. All I know is that she must watch Acacius’s death beside the emperors.”  

Nodding, not knowing what else to do, Arabella allowed her handmaiden to finish her work. All day, Arabella worried for her lady and for her emperor. Her mind pounded as the two sides of her heart fought. Sighing and rubbing her head, Arabella jumped when she heard a commotion outside the palace. Walking towards the window, she watched in shock as the people of Rome began to riot. 

Walking away, she peeked into the hallways, seeing nervous servants and concubines run around. Noticing Marcella running towards her, she reentered her chambers. 

“What has happened?” She whispered, growing more on edge with the people’s shouts. 

“The people are rioting; Hano did not want to execute Acacius, so Geta had him shot to death. Hano then gave a speech about how Rome treats its heroes. The emperors should be on their way back. Arabella, you need to flee, it’s not safe.” 

Arabella shook her head, “No, I need to stay here… I need-” 

“No, I understand you love him, but please, for your survival, you must leave him behind, sweet one. Do not throw your life for him.” Marcella countered. 

Arabella pushed herself away. “No… I can’t… I’m…Marcella. I’m with a child, Geta’s child. I cannot abandon the father of my child,” she whispered, tears falling down my cheeks. 

Marcella eyes softened, “Oh my girl, what trouble have you placed yourself in… If Lucilla were free, she could have helped you.” 

“But she is not Marcella. Please save yourself…thank you for helping me all these years.” Arabella thanked Marcella, kissing the older woman’s hands. 

Marcella shook her head, “Please, Ara, come with me…” she pleaded. 

Arabella denied her again, “No… I must stay… Now go, quick…” 

Sniffing, the handmaiden kissed her lady’s cheek as she ran, leaving through the servant's path to flee the palace. Seeing the crowd angry, trying to break from the guards. 

Marcella thought of a way to save her lady. Lady Lucilla would be given up as a sacrifice, a last stitch to make the people heel. Rome needs Lucilla to lead them on the right path. Lucilla has always protected Arabella. Making her choice, the servant ran to the Dungeons, hiding as she saw Macrinus laughing as he walked away from Lucilla. 

“I will make Rome my own… and you will be nothing by forgotten history.”  Macrinus taunted as he left to continue his plan to take hold of the power he thought rightfully belonged to him. 

Marcella sneered at the thought; walking towards the chamber, she broke the lock and opened the door. 

Lucilla, hearing her chamber open, turned to see a servant. 

Bowing, Marcella said, “My lady, I am Lady Arabella’s handmaiden. I have come to release you from your prison. 

Lucilla smiled and thanked the woman, “My Arabella… is she safe?” 

Marcella shook her head, causing Lucilla to panic, “Caracalla and Macrinus are plotting against Geta; she will be in danger… We need to help her.” 

Lucilla bit her lip, “There is an army outside of Rome, waiting for my husband’s command… I will go in his place to take Rome back from Caracalla and Macrinus. I know Arabella will survive; she is smart, but I cannot leave right now. They will be coming for me tomorrow.” 

Marcella nodded, “I know, my lady, that’s why I am here… I am taking your place. Go now. Assemble your army. I will die in your place… just please promise me you will do everything to keep Arabella safe.” 

As Lucilla and Marcella switched clothes and places, Lucilla confirmed Marcella’s wish, “I will always protect her… Thank you, Marcella, for keeping my sweet girl safe all these years. Thank you for helping Rome.” 

Marcella, through tears, smiled, bowing to the former empress, “I will do it again and again, for Arabella… for Rome… and her child.” 

Lucilla gasped but nodded, understanding the severity of the situation. She rushed out to meet Lucius before leaving for the army, who anxiously awaited their command.

Chaos remained in the palace as servants, nobles, and guards ran throughout. As Arabella inhaled and exhaled to relax her breathing, Geta rushed into the chambers. 

Arabella turned and ran towards his arms, “Geta! Oh, I’m so relieved. I was afraid something might have happened… where’s Caracalla?” 

Geta wrapped his lady into his arms, kissing her forehead. “He has gotten worse, my love; I had to walk away, or I would have done something I would regret. I understand he is scared, but he is becoming too erratic…” 

Arabella furrowed her brows in confusion about Caracalla’s behavior; something must be causing it.

“Who is he with my love? Surely he's not on his own right now?” she questioned.

Geta shrugged, “I think Macrinus was close by… why?” 

Arabella contemplated before she froze. Caracalla had been closer to Macrinus, and ever since that man, Caracalla’s behaviors had worsened. Could he be the cause? She thought. 

“Geta… Macrinus, what if he is-” Arabella was interrupted as an Actor burst into the chambers. 

Geta, gathering Arabella into his arms, sneered at the actor dressed similarly to him. 

“What are you doing in here? You are not allowed to enter my chambers-” 

“I apologize, Augustus, but I had to warn you… that man…Macrinus is poisoning your brother towards you… I heard him speak words conspiring against you… you must flee!” warned the actor.

Geta shook his head, not wanting to believe, “No, My brother and I have always been one. He would never-” 

Arabella pulled Geta’s arm, interrupting her lover defending his brother. 

“Geta, I have a bad feeling; we need to flee, please my love…” 

Geta pushed her away, shaking his head, “No, Caracalla is a loyal brother. He would never…” 

Everyone in the room froze as Caracalla’s and Macrinus's voices came closer. 

Arabella pulled Geta into a false wall, pressing him into the wall as she flushed her body to him. 

Caracalla entered the room, searching for his brother and lady. Seeing only his brother, he raised his dagger. “Brother, you lied. You said we would always be one… that our empire would be ours, that the people would be ours, but you lied to me, brother.” 

“Geta”, shook his head, “I have never lied, Caracalla… I have never once conspired against you, brother. Please...” 

Caracalla growled, stalking towards “Geta” with Macrinus close behind, “Yes, you lie! You replaced me with Arabella! You do not even love her! You always were cruel to her, keeping her at a distance. I love her, and you selfishly took her from me! You always take from me, even in the womb!” 

Arabella closed her eyes, pressing further into Geta’s body as her lover shook, hearing such hate come from his brother’s mouth. 

“No, Caracalla, it's not tru-” gasped “Geta” as Macrinus led Caracalla to slice his neck, blood gushing as both men hackled off “Geta’s” head from his body. 

“He can no longer hurt you, my emperor,” Macrinus watched in fascination. 

Caracalla numbly looked at his brother's head, “What about Arabella?”

Macrinus hummed, searching the room for any sign of the girl. 

“Worry not; I shall find her and bring her to you. She will be your empress. She will see your kindness and mercy by making you her empress. She will not deny you,” soothed Macrinus, raising the younger twin. 

“Now, let us call a Senate meeting; we need to make several changes…” commanded Macrinus, leading Caracalla out before turning and taking “Geta’s” head. 

Arabella slowly peeked outside the false wall, seeing both men gone, and sighed in relief before stepping out. Geta followed, numb from what had taken place. Gagging, Arabella turned away from the body as she stared at her Geta, who had tears flowing down his cheeks. 

“Oh, my love… I’m so sorry…” She whispered, walking towards him. 

Geta shook his head in disbelief. “I have always defended him… how can he despise me so easily?” 

Arabella shook her head, grabbing his arm, “I do not know, but we can’t stay here; he thinks you are dead and wants to make me his empress… we need to leave.” 

“No, I need to get my brother back, bring him back to reason… we are twins, Arabella… we can’t…” 

“Geta, you said so yourself; Caracalla’s sickness is harming his mind… that is not your brother anymore… please Geta, come with me.” 

Geta stepped back, watching as Arabella's face fell, tears falling down her cheeks. “I need to Ara…” 

Arabella felt 15 again, pleading for her prince, no, her emperor, to choose her. She felt again being pushed away. Taking a deep breath, she decided it would end here. 

Emperor and Lady, at an arm's distance from each other, stared at one another. Arabella gave her lover her final plea, her final ultimatum: “Geta… My Geta, I am going to ask you one last time. I cannot do this again. Please, my love, choose me. Choose our child. Choose our love. Come with me… I will not ask again… I will leave. I will protect my- our baby with or without you.” 

Geta closed his eyes. His emotions mixed, and he felt powerless, but as he opened his eyes and stared at his lady, he made his choice… he chose her… he chose their child. 

Geta nodded as Arabella sobbed in relief, walking into his arms. Arabella kissed her love, pouring all her passion into the kiss. After a minute, she separated her lips from him. 

“Quickly, take some gold and treasures and follow me. We will use the servant's pathways.” 

The two quickly filled a bag with valuables and left the chambers, trading their fine clothes for servants' clothes and sneaking out of the palace. As they crossed the pavilion, One Senator stepped into their path. Halting, Arabella whispered in shock and worry. 

“Uncle…” 

Arabella's Uncle stared in shock… his niece was with the supposed dead Emperor Geta. 

“Niece… Emperor Geta… where will you run?”

[cleo-fox]

As the Clock Strikes Midnight - Part VI

Series Masterlist Chapter Summary: In which you briefly turn the tables. Chapter Warnings: Oral (both f and m receiving), teasing, dirty talk, praise kink, fingering, masturbation. Tag List: I don’t have a tag list for this fic, sorry! The best way to hear about updates is to follow me on Tumblr or subscribe to the fic on AO3.

You decide that you’re going to approach things differently tonight.

These encounters have been physically satisfying. Even if he hasn’t fucked you properly yet, he has made you come several times. It’s hard to find a fault with that.

But there’s also this: he has seen you naked. He has touched you, tasted you, made you come...and you have yet to do any of the same to him.

And you want to. A lot.

You spend much of the day mulling over the best way to express this. While your arrangement has blurred if not obliterated some of the lines that separate you, it’s not to the point where you feel you can make such a request without devoting some thought to it ahead of time. How do you explain to a prince that you want to touch him in such an intimate way? It’s not as though there’s an established protocol for this…though that would be something, indeed.

“What’re you smiling about?” asks Grete as she passes you a basket of peas that need shelling.

You shake your head and bite the inside of your cheek, hoping your embarrassment doesn’t show. “Nothing,” you say. “It’s just a pleasant day.”

“A pleasant day,” she says, giving the word far too much emphasis to not sound like the innuendo that it is. “Reckon that’s got anything to do with your midnight walks?”

You roll your eyes and shake your head again. “Your imagination is far too fanciful, Grete.”

The conversion ends with a wink and an all too knowing grin from Grete—you’ve worked together long enough that she knows she’s not likely to get anything else out of you...and for that, you’re grateful. The fewer questions you have to answer, the better.

Though you’d never tell her about your dilemma, there’s part of you that wishes you could—Grete was wise in the ways of romance and would probably know exactly what to say and how to say it. Left to your own devices, you are much less certain.

You’re still undecided when you arrive in his chambers later that night—in fact, the thought has you so preoccupied that you’re a little later than you intended.

“You’re late,” he says as soon as the door shuts behind you.

“You said after dark,” you say, raising your eyebrows as he takes your hand and leads you to the bedroom. “Is it not after dark?”

There’s a slight glint in his eyes that makes you think he’s rather amused. “You’re dreadfully impertinent.”

“You wouldn’t keep inviting me back if you didn’t find that quality appealing,” you say with perhaps more confidence than is warranted.

He stops in front of the bed and raises your hand to his lips, brushing a light kiss against your knuckles. “I ought to punish you for your cheek,” he says, raising an eyebrow, “but I rather think you’d enjoy that too much.”

You give him a dry, sardonic look, pretending as though his words haven’t conjured a dull ache between your legs as you imagine what a punishment from him might entail. “Like I said, I think you find that quality more appealing than not.”

He draws you close to him, his hips pressing against yours so you can feel the hard length already straining at his trousers. “Shall I show you how appealing I find you?” he asks, his voice a low, hoarse purr. “Would you like that?”

The slickness between your thighs is the most straightforward answer to his question, but somewhere in that haze of lust, you remember the dilemma that you’d been wrestling with for most of the day...and you realize that your opportunity to voice that desire is slipping away the longer he looks at you like that.

You clear your throat. “Yes, but—”

Words fail you abruptly and completely and you want to kick yourself for being so foolish, for thinking you were capable of saying these things aloud.

“But…?” he says after a moment of silence from you.

“It’s just—” You clear your throat again, like this would somehow also clear your mind. You are not surprised to find that this doesn’t really work. “I—I want…” The words stutter in your throat again and you find yourself wondering if you should have just kept your mouth shut altogether. What right do you have to ask such things of a prince?

There’s a momentary softness in his gaze as he reaches up to trace the curve of your jaw. “What do you want, darling?” he asks and you can’t help but feel a little braver

“I—” You wet your lips. “I—I want to touch you.”

The softness in his gaze yields immediately and completely to a dark lust that makes you ache. “Do you?” he says, his voice dropping low and sounding like sin.

“Yes.”

He contemplates this for a moment, slowly running his thumb along your lower lip. You catch his thumb between your lips, running your tongue over it and sucking gently. He watches you, transfixed, a slight smile curling at his lips and you wonder if you���ve finally succeeded in surprising him.

You release his thumb slowly, suggestively. “Please,” you say.

The hunger in his eyes makes you ache. “I suppose I can allow that,” he says with a slow smile. His large hands cover yours and he guides them to the fastenings of his surcoat.

The surcoat is straightforward and easily slipped from his shoulders, but his tunic is a little more difficult because he’s so much taller than you. After a moment of struggling, he takes pity on you and pulls the garment up and over his head, fabric yielding to bare skin. You find yourself staring at him, lips slightly parted.

Marble statues are what come to mind, but marble seems far too cold to be an accurate comparison, especially not with the way his gaze is smoldering into you. His chest is all muscle and taut flesh, though not in an unappealing or overpowered way.

Hesitantly, you reach out and place your palm flat against his chest, just above his heart. You trail your hand over his chest, your fingers following the gentle curve and dip of his muscles, tracing the lines between his abdominals and the sharp v that curves up both hip bones and disappears beneath the waist of his trousers. You tilt your head up to capture his lips in a kiss and he practically devours you, his tongue delving into your mouth, his hands cradling your head. You get the sense that he’s trying to hold back and barely succeeding and that pleases you immensely.

You pull away from his lips and turn your attention to his neck. You taste and tease all along the column of his throat until you find a place along his collarbone that makes his breath hitch. You pay special attention to this spot, sucking and nipping at it while your hands map the smooth expanse of his chest and back. You feel him shiver when you lightly rake your fingernails up his back, his cock pressing insistently against your belly.

You press lightly on his shoulders and he takes the hint, stepping back to the bed and lying down, his eyes never leaving yours. You kneel next to him on the bed, your hands sliding over his chest and then down to his trousers.

Despite your trembling hands, you manage to undo his trousers, sucking in a deep breath as his cock springs free, large, thick, and flushed. Achingly hard. You barely suppress a shiver as you think about how he’ll feel inside of you.

He lifts his hips so you can pull his trousers off and you do, tossing them to the floor. You pause for a moment, your gaze raking over his form. He still looks relatively composed, all things considered, but his breathing is a little heavier and the lust in his eyes is unmistakable. The sight of him laid out and bare before you is beyond enticing and you allow yourself to look your fill.

Eventually, the desire to kiss and touch him outweighs your other senses. You lie down next to him, turning so that you’re propped up on your side. You gently run your fingertips from his temple to his jaw, cupping your hand against his cheek when he leans into your touch

“You intend to make me beg for you,” he says, his gaze scarcely leaving your lips.

You smile slightly. “Perhaps.” You lean in, brushing your lips gently against his and pulling back the moment he tries to deepen the kiss. “You were awfully cruel to me last night. And the night before.”

“As I recall, you rather enjoyed both outcomes,” he says.

“And you will, too,” you say.

His grin is slow and he reaches for you. “You are wicked.”

You bat his hands away and lower yourself to his neck. “Patience, your highness,” you say as you press your lips against his pulse point.

The title has the intended effect: he lets out a low, frustrated groan.

Your path down his chest is a leisurely one, partly because you’re enjoying it and partly because you want to make him squirm. Your lips and tongue map the warm expanse of his skin, memorizing the taste and feel of him, the sound he makes when you scrape your teeth against the flat of his nipple or suck a mark just beneath his collarbone. Something roughly akin to a whimper escapes his lips when you nibble at his hip bone and you press your pleased smile against his skin before you do it again (and again).

But finally, you reach a point when you can go no lower and so you turn your attention to his cock.

You almost miss the way he sighs when you finally take him in your hand, so distracted are you by the warm, silky heft of him and how the tips of your fingers don’t quite touch when you wrap your hand around him. You stroke him once, your fingers squeezing gently as you feel him surge in your hand, his hips lifting slightly. You rub your thumb on the underside of the tip and he sucks in a deep breath.

You look up at him through lowered lashes and make sure that he’s watching when you let your lips brush lightly against the tip of his cock, just enough to gather the salty bead of moisture on your lips. You look up at him again and slowly and intentionally lick your lips.

He swears and you hold back a smile as you lean in again and brush another feather light kiss against the tip of his cock.

You continue like this for a little while, pressing soft, almost chaste kisses against the tip of his cock, gently squeezing his shaft every so often. He communicates mostly in gasps and groans, his hand eventually going to your hair, trying to encourage you to give him what he wants.

You want to hear him ask for it, though.

He holds out for longer than you expect, but eventually you hear it: “Please."

You look up at him, making your eyes wide and pushing your lips into a slight pout. “Did you want something, your highness?”

He looks rather pleasingly disheveled—there’s a flush to his pale cheeks, a dark hunger in his gaze, and his hair is slightly mussed. “You know what I want,” he says, his voice rough with wanting. “I’m not accustomed to begging.”

His words make you shiver, but you manage to maintain your innocent expression, stroking his cock once for good measure. “You need only ask.”

“Filthy girl,” he says, but you can tell he’s pleased. “Put that wicked tongue to better use.”

You raise an eyebrow and look up at him. After a moment, he relents. “Please.”

You decide that this is sufficient. You lightly brush your lips against him and then slowly take him into your mouth.

The sound he makes as your tongue finally touches his cock is deeply gratifying and you can feel the dull ache between your thighs intensify. You fall into a slow rhythm, swirling your tongue around the tip before pushing your head forward to take more of him, your hand squeezing and stroking what doesn’t fit in your mouth.

You work him up slowly, hollowing your cheeks and sucking until you find the point that makes him groan and tangle his hand into your hair. He tries to encourage you to go faster, gently tugging on your hair as his hips thrust up, muttering absolute filth, but you are relentlessly slow and deliberate. Sometimes you pause and let your tongue work him over a bit, just so you can listen to the desperate, keening sound he makes in the back of his throat. 

You don’t need him to tell you he’s close: it’s obvious from the way his hand grips your hair, how his groans suddenly turn into wordless gasps, how his hips stutter slightly in their rhythm.

The sound he makes when he comes is one you will not soon forget: a low, satisfied groan that makes your aching heat tense in response. His release is sweet and hard won on your tongue and you swallow it down greedily as you lick him clean.

When he’s finally spent, you carefully ease his cock from your mouth, placing a gentle kiss on the tip before you sit up. He’s sprawled on the bed, panting and you feel rather pleased with yourself for reducing him to this state. He reaches for you and you lean over him and allow him to capture your lips in a slow kiss.

His kiss is searching, breath-stealing. His hands cup your cheeks and stroke the column of your throat, making you shiver against him. You think he’s going to pull away, but instead, he rolls you over, pinning you beneath him as he pulls your skirts up and your undergarments off. 

He slips his hand between your thighs and chuckles, the sound seeming to vibrate against your very core. “Oh, you enjoyed that,” he purrs as his fingers slide along your slick folds.

You’re only able to offer a faint whimper in return, your hips thrusting forward as he pointedly avoids your clit, his smile practically vulpine.

“You enjoyed being on your knees and having me at your mercy with those pretty lips and wicked tongue wrapped around my cock.” It’s not exactly phrased as a question, but he still waits for an answer, his forefinger teasing your entrance.

Your first instinct is to lie or to at least make him work for the truth, but that message doesn’t quite make it to your traitorous lips. “Yes,” you breathe out, your hips thrusting forward again

His eyes darken slightly. “Did you want to touch yourself?”

Once again, your lips betray you. “Yes.”

He sinks one, then two of those long and clever fingers into you while his free hand guides your hand between your legs, pressing your fingers against your clit. Under normal circumstances, you might feel a little shy and awkward, but the steady throb of your swollen clit mutes the edges of your embarrassment.

“Show me,” he says and that silky stern authority in his voice is enough to make you tense around his slowly thrusting fingers.

Your lips part slightly as your fingers graze your clit. You knew you were wet, but you didn’t realize the full extent of it. You’re sensitive and you find that you have to rub yourself gently and indirectly through the hood of your clit. Your cunt tenses and Loki curls his long fingers just so.

Oh.

He’s rubbing a particular soft spot inside you that makes you arch against the mattress, a familiar knot tightening in your hips. Combined with your own fingers on your clit and Loki’s hungry gaze and filthy whispers, you know you won’t last long.

“I can feel how close you are,” he murmurs. “Your greedy cunt is gripping my fingers so tightly.” He lowers his voice and scrapes his teeth against your earlobe. “I can’t wait to see how well you take my cock.

You tighten again around his fingers and he notices, his hand picking up the pace to match the frantic movement of your fingers.

“Are you going to come for me, pretty girl?” Loki purrs in your ear. You keen something that sounds vaguely like an affirmative and his fingers curl again, pressing hard on that spot inside of you. Your back arches, like you’re trying to get closer to that blissful height that is so close you can almost taste it and then, quite suddenly, you are there and you are coming undone.

“Oh yes,” Loki breathes as he watches you, gaze rapt as his fingers thrust into you in time with the shuddering aftershocks. “That’s perfect, darling, you’re so good.”

His words and hungry eyes are enough to make you want to come again. And evidently he has the same idea because with no more warning than a heated look and a wicked grin, he slips between your legs, removing his fingers to press his mouth against you in a long and slow kiss, licking you from the still fluttering entrance to your cunt all the way up to your clit. You’re sensitive from your orgasm, but he licks your clit so slowly and gently that it’s not long before you’re tangling your hands in his hair and trying to urge him closer, faster, more. He sucks your clit into his mouth as he slides his fingers back into you and soon enough he’s bracing his free arm against your hips to keep you still as he works you over.

It’s the sight of him naked with his face between your legs that sends you over the edge this time. Your hands slip from his hair to grip the bedclothes beneath you as you cry out, your cunt pulsing in time with his tongue and fingers.

He seems determined to draw every last shudder from you, keeping his mouth between your legs until you sigh with a satisfied whimper. He presses a few gentle kisses against your hip bones and lower belly before resting his head against your stomach. Your hand goes almost automatically to cradle his head, your fingers twining through his hair. You both lie there catching your breaths, lost in the heady afterglow of what you’ve just done. It’s comfortable, a sleepy intimacy that you rather like.

Loki lifts his head after a moment and repositions himself next to you, cupping his hand against your jaw and pulling you into a sweet kiss that tastes like sex and desire. He pulls back after a moment.

“Come back tomorrow after dark,” he says.

You can’t help but raise an eyebrow. “And what do you intend to do tomorrow?”

A slight smile plays at his lips. “I intend to thoroughly bed you.”

Your eyebrow remains raised. “And how exactly do you define thoroughly bedded?”

His lips curl into a smirk and his gaze drops down to your lips for just a moment before trailing back up to your eyes. “My cock buried in your sweet cunt.” 

You barely manage to hold back a shiver. “No more teasing?”

“Oh, there will be some teasing,” he says, “but it will end with me buried inside of you.”

“Is that a promise?”

He presses a sweet, soft kiss against your lips as the clock strikes midnight. “You have my word.”

Next chapter

[deepperplexity]

Prompt 11: Out Of Reach [A3]

Pairing: Colonel Brandon x Fem!OC

POV: First, OC

Continuation of: Prompt 1. December Moon [A1], Prompt 5. Open Doors [A2]

A/N: It's time for Brandon!!! 😍 Now, this is going to be frustrating, just hold out darlings (she says as if it isn't something we enjoy when done right which I hope I have 😂) and we'll get through this together despite omissions of feelings being near miscommunication between our pining lovebirds unwilling to take a leap of faith 👀

Side Note: The electricity is RIDICULOUSLY expensive today - as well as yesterday - going up to 6.28 SEK when the more common price is 1SEK (1 SEK being about 10 cents) so I'm currently bundled up under double blankets with a warm wheat bag around my feet to keep warm as we've turned off all heat and everything but the freezer and fridge is unplugged 😂 I am beyond fed up with the idiocy of the economy - with all that entails - and I hope everyone else are toasty warm and not needing to turn of the heat ❤  

Tags/TW’s: Miscommunication by Omission, Mutual Secret Pining, Half-Confessions, Dire Situation Admitted, WHY WON’T THEY JUST SAY WHAT THEY’RE FEELING?!, Asking For Assistance/Pleading For Silence, Physical Attraction, Emotional Attraction, Desperation, Longing

Word Count: 2.7k

LINKTREE // AO3 // MASTERLIST

Out Of Reach

It had to be a dream, there was no other way. “Stay awake. No, allow me views of those eyes of summer skies, Miss,” he said harshly but the roll of his voice was a deep caress to my lulled senses. “Open your eyes,” he continued as he squeezed my ribs and thighs with his large hands. It took more strength than I wished to admit to do such a small thing. I managed to blink them open only to lose my breath at how close he was.

Colonel Brandon watched me intently, those inviting eyes shielded by layers of history, yet the crease between his brows softened as our gazes held each other. “Miss Haymnick,” he began in a quiet roll of a rumble. “Keep those eyes open for me.” “I… shall try,” I whispered between chattering teeth and full-body trembles from his closeness and the cold. “Your horse, she’s a calm one, yes?” I nodded. “Good.”

He held me tighter for a moment then manoeuvred me to lay on Marrygold, asking several times if I was fairing as he tugged on my dress and moved my arm before untying his cloak. The golden string around his throat ripped loose in a tug and my breath faltered as he draped it atop me. The smell of wind once more infiltrated my nose as he lay the cloak half atop my head and tucked it under my chin.

His finger graced my chin, the chill of his glove-free hand had me sucking in a breath but my cheeks warmed as his finger lingered a second longer than necessary. “No reins?” he asked as he looked the horse over. “Nor saddle. Miss Haymnick, what are you doing riding through the winter in such a state?” he asked but he was no longer by my side. His hand gripped Marrygold’s harness, he was leading her toward his own horse. “She is my horse,” I whispered, forcing the words out. “My best friend,” I continued, gripping her mane a little harder for a short moment before my numb fingers lost their strength. “Stay awake,” he urged, his voice a bit more frazzled than before as my words had turned quieter with each syllable. So tired… “Hold on,” the colonel said and I wanted to laugh for a second at the request. “We must get you warm.”

Marrygold began walking, slowly, down the slope of the hill and when I managed to tilt my head I found Colonel Brandon atop his horse with Marrygold’s harness looped through one of his reins. He viewed me with delicate worry in the harsh lines of his face. His regal nose had reddened from the cold as well as his cheeks, the top-hat held his slightly golden locks in place despite the wind. His straight back and decisive hold of the reins had a flutter break out in my stomach but it was his eyes that had my pounding heart in their grip. Eyes of poetry, I thought as my mind began to drift toward the loss I had secured by foolishly chasing him away with my thoughtless, detrimental mood all those days ago…

He urged the horse to go faster as my eyelids drooped. “A little further, Miss.” “I lost you,” I mumbled in my haze. “I was… foolish… it is… hopeless, now…” “Stay…” I heard him say yet my mind drifted before the rest reached me.

⁛•⁛

“Miss,” came the rumble from my dreams. “Wake up, wake up,” it continued as the steady breaths of Marrygold had me rising and sinking. “Sir, we ought to move her,” came the shrill yet worried voice of a woman. “She is not injured,” came a second male voice. “My lord, she needs—” “I am aware.” After those words, whatever lay atop me was stripped away and I shivered from the sudden chill.

I blinked, regaining some of my strength as wakefulness slipped in. “Miss Haymnick,” he said as my eyes found those which made me think of poetry and depth. “Can you hear me?” I nodded. “Yes…” “Oh thank heavens,” said the woman. “Come on, let’s get the lady inside, my lord.” “Come,” he said, focusing solely on me to my heart’s utter thrill. “Let us get you warm, miss.”

I groaned, pushing against Marrygold’s neck to get myself upright. Everything ached, each muscle and limb straining against any movement from the lack of energy and the bone-chilling cold, and before I could grasp the mane beneath my fingers the world spun and I fell to the side.

“Goodness me!” shrieked the woman as sturdy arms caught me up. My feet had hit the ground but I was unharmed with his arms around my waist. “Miss?” he asked as I tilted my head back, black dots lined my vision yet he remained clear as day. “I— I’m alright,” I managed to force out yet my feet would not stand flat against the ground, my legs bending and yielding — no matter how I tried to stand. “I have you,” he murmured while bending and manoeuvring his arms to lift me bridal style. “Let us get you inside, get you warm.” Those words had me in shambles when he viewed me with such scrutiny in his eyes — not of the judging kind, but the caring one.

⁛•⁛

He had left me atop a grand bed, with mahogany posts and a canopy of thick, green velvet tapering off into curtains that could fully shield the bed I lay in. The woman, who I now knew carried the name Hatchfield, had been ordered to remain by my side and help care for me. The man who had captured my heart with so little as a look and a few words of possibilities had left the room with only one glance back at me.

“There, miss. Let us get you dressed.” Mrs Hatchfield was fluffing up my dress which had been cleaned and sorted during the night. “The master awaits you for breakfast.”

I glanced at her, then the dress of deep red not unlike the ruby of blood or the shade of half-wilted roses. A muted yet bold red. A red designed to make a statement. How can I meet him after the trouble I have caused him, yesterday as well as the first day I encountered the man? I had no thoughts to help me come up with any form of plan for the upcoming encounter. Guilt, shame, even dread lingered in me yet the man had gone above and beyond for me yesterday and I would not sully my mother’s legacy or the brittle fraud of my family’s current state as affluent and important. I shall beg his forgiveness and plead for his good graces, plead for him to keep my state and actions a secret. I have already lost any chance at his hand, at his heart… I shall not lay more waste to the man’s life or peace…

Mrs Hatchfield helped me dress, lacing the corset swiftly but harshly — while whispering and murmuring about my beauty, from blond locks to hourglass figure. I was accustomed to such praise, no matter who said it the compliments meant little — either they held no sway or they were spoken with want for me in a manner not befitting (my heart, or my mind).

I looked around the room while she flustered about. The room had a soft sense to it, a strong but gentle energy filling it. The smell of books hit me as my eyes landed on a large bookcase filled to the brim with what appeared to be a large collection of poetry, legends, and… romances. I squinted to make out more of the letters along the spines of the books but my guesses seemed correct. “The Master has a cultivated collection, miss Haymnick,” Mrs Hatchfield said as she caught me looking. “This room is not usually one he allows visitors within. It is his second bedroom, when the master bedroom feels too big for the man. Or, when he requires solitude one can find him in that chair with a book in his hand.” She nodded toward an armchair dressed in green velvet much like the drapes.

“Is he a good master?” I asked, still studying the spines with great and insignificant names of poets. “A wonderful master, miss.” She looked over her shoulder at the closed door leading out of the room. “He would be a wonderful husband, too. For a lady with a gentle heart and appreciation for the quiet and calm life the master is always in pursuit of.” I scrunched my brows. “I heard he is never home, always travelling the world?” Can Mrs Hilliard have her gossip wrong? “Oh, indeed, that is the pursuit, miss. He searches for the right reason to remain here, but I do not believe he will find it out there in the world any longer.” She glanced up at me with a slightly mischievous, almost knowing smile.

Mrs Hatchfield had ordered my hair, patted down my dress, and now showed me to the colonel who sat in an intimate tea parlour. The shiny floor and dark walls soothed and calmed — the fabrics in shades of dark blues and deep greens paired well with the dark wood of the furnishings and framework. My eyes saw it all for but a moment, and then they found the colonel at the very end of the room.

The large windows showcased the white landscape beyond and the light framed him perfectly as he stood with his back to us, turning swiftly as Mrs Hatchfield announced my arrival.

Colonel Brandon walked up, meeting me by the table able to seat six people in delicate chairs, and my courage faltered. He was marvellous. From his clothes in hues of brown and black to his features set in softness despite the harsh lines of his face. The strong jaw and regal nose matched perfectly and yet again his eyes arrested me fully. They held my gaze for a moment before etiquette took over. He bowed, and I curtseyed.

“Miss Haymnick,” he said, and by the lord, his voice had me shivering. Hearing it so clearly, with no background noise or whistling wind had me appreciating it on a deeper level. “Colonel Brandon.” I tried to smile but my insides were corded so tight I struggled to move my muscles accordingly. He arched a brow. “You have quite the expressive face, my lady…” I lowered my gaze, heat burning my neck and cheeks. “Sir… I— Sir, I apologize for the trouble I have caused and the harm done to your evening yesterday.”

Looking up, I found him peering at me with a tilted head. “You have caused no harm, nor trouble.” “I—” He interrupted by taking a step toward me. “Are you fairing? You were in quite a disorderly state when I found you.” There was no animosity in his voice. “I am well, sir. Thank you, for your consideration—” “Then, if you would, explain to me why on earth I found you half frozen to death out in the winter cold?” His words were direct, but his mannerisms and eyes spoke of worry.

What do I say? I must plead for his good graces… “Sir—” I drew a shallow breath as the intensity of his gaze nearly snatched my breath away “—I must beg of you to not speak of… what happened. I… I have caused harm to my family’s reputation and find myself in a situation where such a thing cannot slip into the gossip mills of society. Please, sir,” I said with as much regret and pleading in my voice as I could portray without fully begging in desperation.

I lowered myself in another curtsey, looking down at his polished shoes while my back and shoulders stiffened. “Please, sir, I beg for your grace and silence regarding the matter of my actions and state. I cannot make a dire situation an impossible one with my—” “Dire situation? Are you coming to harm, miss?” he asked, alarm in his voice and he moved above me but I couldn’t see what he was doing. “I—” What do I say? Yes, but also no? I am coming to harm but not in the manner he believes. Oh, what a sordid mess… “—I am not in harm's way, sir. Not in the manner you are imagining.” “What, in your mind, am I imagining?” he asked. “Miss, please stand. I do not enjoy this view of you.”

I winced. Hearing that he did not find the view of me to his liking hurt. All my life I had been told of my beauty, of my looks, of my handsome features and beautiful shape. It had mattered little to me, my beauty a curse and blessing that had yielded nothing. The man I would have wished for it to affect now disclosed he did not enjoy the view of me despite previously having stated he found me beautiful. Perhaps all truly is lost. For a moment, I had to stop tears from forming in my eyes before I could rise and straighten.

I kept my eyes lowered, focusing on the golden chain hooked to his waistcoat and attached to a watch hidden from view in his pocket. “I apologize, sir.” “Miss,” he began quietly and I watched his hand move toward me for a second before he stayed it and fisted it by his thigh. “You are quite the conundrum.” “Sir?” I asked, looking up out of pure shock. I had never been called that before. “There you are,” he said with a smile and soft eyes holding mine. “Now, tell me what this dire situation is. I cannot have a lady such as yourself be in any situation of negative consequence. Those eyes of summer skies should not be dulled by clouds, miss.” I sighed, my shoulders slouching and my insides softening at his poetic words of my eyes. It was not a new compliment, nor a particularly innovative one, yet when he spoke it… my heart soared.

“Come, sit. We shall talk over breakfast. You must be famished,” he said, breaking me out of the saddening thoughts that had begun to encroach upon realising I had offended him and lost my chance days ago — in one day I find and ruin what my heart seems set upon… “Thank you, sir…” “I have not forgotten about your dire situation,” he said as he pulled out my chair. “A beauty such as you must have many protectors. Forgive me for what I am about to say, but you appear in no need of the services of an old colonel yet I find myself desperate to have your confidence—” he helped me sit and my skin burned as he held my hand gently “—and I am seasoned enough to know it is a fool’s wish that has occupied my soul.”

He gave a contrite smile and released my hand while my breath faltered and my ribs seemed to constrict my insides more than ever before. “Sir?” I asked, not daring to hope fully yet unable to restrain the wishful thinking. “I shall not ask for what it wishes, do not fret, my lady. I will assist in any manner I can in your dire situation, my lips sealed and my expectations diminished to none but your confidence and temporary seat at my table.”

My heart pounded, my breaths came shallow and rushed through my nose as my lips were held tightly closed to keep the words from spilling out. Was he implying that I had stirred his heart as well? That his soul had been caught in wishes of me as mine had been of him? I must be delusional, surely he means some form of monetary compensation or alliance between our estates will not be requested for keeping my secret?

“If you view me with such harsh eyes much longer, I must retreat like a wounded soldier, miss…” His voice was sorrow-filled and deeper than before. I gasped a breath and straightened while trying to school my features. I had never before failed to truly hide my inner thoughts or reflections, my emotions or sensations but in his presence, my heart wreaked havoc on my control. “I am not accustomed to men such as you… I apologise,” I whispered while clasping my hands atop my dress and clenched them tightly. “I believe you accused me of being just like all others.” “But… you are not,” I whispered as tears welled. “You are so much more, sir. And far out of my reach now…”

To Be Continued...

LINKTREE // AO3 // MASTERLIST

A/N: Oh my word 😩 What kind of Rickmas is this?! Why am I doing this to us? Ugh, the suspense, the longing, the pining, the miscommunication by omission is just killing me (yes, yes, I know I'm the one writing this but still) and I cannot wait to get these two together and stop this nonsense of not speaking out about one's feelings 😭 Then we gotta get old daddy'o on board too of course, but I mean the colonel is everything he wanted his daughter to find, no?

TAGLIST: @lizlil @snapefiction @darkthought15 @monstreviolet @flowerdementia @marvelschriss @once-upon-an-imagine @ravennight41 @caseydoodles98 @slytherinprincess03 @theconsultingdetectiveswife @grimmyhild @monster-energies @myobscureimaginarium @snowblossomreads @eternal-silvertongued-prince @cherryglossie @setsuna-meiou31 @helena211 @a-queen-and-her-throne @justsaturn0 @turvi @dontwanttobeanamercanidiot @sunnylikesfrogs @dianilaws @snapesno1thighrider @sassanoe @snapesrn @bernadette-peters12 @sammy-13 @smartowl999 @castleofthorns @serenanight87 @leah1243 @cherihan @poetry-and-tea @evans23 @mamawolfsmith87 @snapesrn @severussimp @slyckman @liv2post @clawsthecactus @goldenglowwoman @sunset90 @meliabrandon @snapesrn @theheartwants-what-itwants @slyckman @thatlittlefangirl @sanji-simp @ankhmutes @lessdepressy @snapesrn @theheartwants-what-itwants @slyckman @daddythanatos

Want to be tagged? You can tag yourself HERE! Or tell me and I’ll gladly tag you!

[twinkboimler]

October 2024 fic recs

I'm back with another TOS/AOS/SNW fic rec post! Here's some recent fics I really enjoyed!

SPIRK

I Shall Do Neither by onwhatcaptain. TOS. Mature. 166,262 words. Heavy angst, grief, pon farr aftermath. The writer chose not to use archive warnings, and I recommend reading through all the tags on this as well. This fic explores what might have happened if Kirk had died during the kal-if-fee, stretching across the months that follow. This is an emotional fic. There were chapters where I was crying the entire time I read through it. I won’t spoil what plays out, but I was completely satisfied with how this fic ended. It’s a heavy fic, and it’s not for everyone, but god is it good. Plus I love a spirk fic that really highlights the importance of McCoy in their lives; this one really shows how valuable McCoy is to them. I think this fic should be enshrined as a Must-Read when you enter the fandom.

I need a drink of cool, cool rain by Moreta1848. TOS. Explicit. 12,298 words. This fic was beautifully written. It introduces new ideas about Vulcan culture and rain and explores these ideas in a way that I really loved.

milk and honey by spaceisgay (ChancellorGriffin). SNW. Explicit. 28,651 words. Aliens made them do it, temporary amnesia, smut. Spock and Kirk wake up in a prison cell with no memory of who they are. They’re asked to perform an alien ritual… I’m sure you can guess what that entails. Really liked how this was written and it really nails characterizations for SNW spirk.

SPONES

Overthink, Overdrive by fangirlandiknowit. TOS. Explicit. 12,677 words. End of 5-year mission, getting together, love confessions. Aliens force a love confession, and McCoy and Spock handle it just about as well as you’d expect them to. I love when these two are just awful at talking to each other.

The Doctor and the Mailman by bongbingbong. TOS. Teen and Up Audiences. 9,606 words. Western. McCoy is a small-town doctor, Spock is the mailman. Everyone tells McCoy that he should stay away from Spock, but he refuses to listen. First in a 3-part series, I really enjoyed all three parts!

Ashaya (Tehs-tor) by Adenil. TOS. Teen and Up Audiences. 57,762 words. Fake dating/marriage, mutual pining. Spock goes to McCoy when he’s expected to take a spouse. I read this fic during one of my most-recent flights and it was exactly what I needed to sink into while killing time on my flights and at the airport. 

Handle Me With Care by Affixjoy. TOS. Explicit. 5,234 words. Hurt/comfort, friends with benefits to lovers. While on an away mission on a cold planet, McCoy realizes he has appendicitis and has to perform the surgery on himself with Spock’s help. This fic is inspired by Leonid Rogozov removing his own appendix in Antarctica! The spones moments in this fic really tugged at my heartstrings!

MCKIRK

That's why I won't get vulnerable by strangenewwords. AOS. Explicit. 18,074 words. Academy era, 5+1 things, porn with plot, genital piercings. I love some porn with plot and feelings, and this one just hit. If you like McKirk struggling to use their words and instead using their hands and mouths instead, this fic is for you.

the way things unearth by kurgaya. AOS. Explicit. 11,299 words. Academy era, Jocelyn comes to visit. I absolutely love how this fic wrote Jocelyn and McCoy’s past relationship. Their backstory was so different from any other fic I’ve read. Jocelyn really felt like her own person in this, not just his ex-wife. 

MCSPIRK

Moving across, then coming through by lesbobaggins. TOS. Explicit. 2,754 words. Starts as mckirk but turns into mcspirk. Smut, glory holes, a hot and funny fic where Jim finds out what some of the bathrooms on the ship are used for.

do you love your neighbor (is it in your nature) by Muir_Wolf. TOS. Teen and Up Audiences. 20,071 words. Hurt/comfort, corporal punishment, denied food as punishment. While stationed aboard a small vessel after volunteering to help when the medical staff comes down with a flu, McCoy is unfairly punished by the admiral in charge (of course, it’s far more complex than it may initially seem). I love how much time this fic takes to explore the aftermath of McCoy’s experiences—the comfort in this is so good.

GEN

Give Thy Thoughts No Tongue by WerewolvesAreReal. TOS. Teen and Up Audiences. 38,757 words. Mind control, misunderstandings. Spock is captured while on an away mission, and when he returns, he won’t talk about what happened—but not for the reason you might think. Loved this fic!

[irisintheafterglow]

HAND FOUR - THREE OF A KIND

summary: in a season where you're determined to fly under the radar, newly-returned crown prince!touya todoroki has other ideas. in this hand, the debutantes are met and a dance is done.

wc: 2.4k

cw/tags: royalty!au/regency!au, fem!reader, banter driven (what else is new), pining and tension and tension and pining, jealous!touya hehe, prince keigo and lady kaina cameos :)

note: every time i write another part of this series, i think i cannot create any more tension and then shit like this gets created. every thing i do i'm like that one meme with the butterfly like "is this slow burn?" anyways hope you enjoy, thank you SO MUCH for all the love you've given this series!!!!

likes, reblogs, and replies are appreciated <3

“I can’t fathom being in his presence for more than a few minutes. I don’t know how you do it,” remarks Lady Kaina Tsutsumi, your new-found ally in the palace hall of debutantes and suitors. You were initially drawn to her because of the striking dark purple of her dress and were delighted to find that she shared similar opinions on presentation season. With the prince preoccupied with making painfully awkward small talk with guests, it was up to you to entertain yourself until he returned to your side. 

“It’s been a learning curve, to say the least,” you reply politely, taking another sip from your glass of lemonade. You think you catch a glimpse of the prince’s bright white hair in the crowd, but find yourself unexpectedly disappointed when the rest of him doesn’t follow. 

“Is there a reason for his…intensity all the time?” 

“I’ve found that it is, unfortunately, his resting demeanor,” you inform Lady Kaina and she chuckles. “Surprisingly, I’ve started paying closer attention to the relationships within the ton, no thanks to him.” Your friend hums in amused assent. 

“Shall I share my roster of eligible ladies and their prospects with you, then?”

“If you would, please,” you say gratefully and she nods in understanding. 

“Well, of course, we have your man,” she teases, gesturing a magenta-gloved hand in the general direction of your only suitor. He was currently intimidating some poor souls from the district of Lord Tsunagu Hakamada, the most successful textile entrepreneur in the kingdom. When the prince told you that he was to visit with other high-ranking members of the ton, you had a vague idea of what their interactions would entail. Now, as you witness it first-hand, the victims shrink away from his conniving smile and you roll your eyes, allowing yourself a smile before Lady Kaina clears her throat from beside you. 

“I would not call him my man,” you correct light-heartedly after you remember your manners, but she waves you off with a knowing look. “I’m serious!”

“Yes, and the sky is green,” she counters. “Moving on, we have Lady Rumi Usagiyama.” The woman in question was not difficult to spot among the droves of guests, as her aura alone seemed to be taking up most of the space. In a generously cut off-white dress, she radiated confidence and pride like you’ve never seen before. “Notoriously hard to court in the Takami Kingdom, and rumored to have the strength to chuck any man out of her foyer window.” 

“She is the object of my envy,” you deadpan, glancing back in the direction of the prince. “I only wish I dared to do such a thing to His Highness.”

“Your gaze tells a different tale, my friend,” Lady Kaina murmurs and you shoot her a look of warning. She shrugs indifferently, pointing out two other vaguely familiar faces in the hall, a bubbly, tall debutante and a scary-eyed woman beside her. “Lady Yu Takeyama and Duchess Ryuko Tatsuma. Rumors say that the Duchess ate her husband.” You snort so unexpectedly that your lemonade travels into your nose and you cough, fanning yourself with your hand to cool your warm face. “Anyone else you would like to learn about?”

“Do you know of anyone that the prince surrounds himself with?” You ask once you’ve regained your composure. Lady Kaina shakes her head, the corner of her mouth tugging down into a frown. 

“I’ve heard of three, but I’m not sure it’s my place to reveal their identities.”

“I have no one else to spread this information to,” you remind her. 

“True,” she agrees, dropping her voice to a barely perceptible level. “Whispers say he is acquainted with the bastard of King Shigaraki, the missing daughter of the Toga dynasty, and a traveling circus magician.”

“Your whispers spin a vibrant tale.” You listen to her continue to relay what she’s heard about the prince’s friends, but you try not to let yourself immediately be convinced by them. From the month that you’d reluctantly spent with the prince, you were increasingly perplexed by the cocky-smiled enigma that was your future (fake) intended. 

There were the little things, observed from a surface level: how he holds a sword with his left hand but is right-handed in all other situations, how he’d rather jump off a cliff into sharp rocks than eat a spoonful of fish, how he closes his eyes during carriage rides to avoid getting nauseous. 

But recently, you also started noticing deeper things about the prince that you didn’t know how to manage. He hated his father. He hated the ton. He hated the presentation season. And yet, despite everything that he had no problem expressing his distaste for, he called on you half an hour before your agreed-upon time. He waited in the garden instead of the sitting room because he knew you’d rather see your beloved flowers before you left. He became bored easily, but listened to you go on about traveling the world during visits to the modiste, another place he insisted on accompanying you “for coordinated aesthetic purposes.” He loved to mutter brutal comments about a person’s looks when you passed them on the sidewalk, but he never dared to say anything negative about your appearance. When he was with you, anything negative registering in his mind seemed to disappear before his mouth could articulate it. 

The things you witnessed had unwanted sensations traveling through your heart and fluttering in your stomach, which made it endlessly difficult to remind yourself that he was simply a business partner and, more importantly, likely an enemy of the kingdom that hasn’t been caught yet. But what were you supposed to do when he caught your eye across the room and smirked like you shared a secret? 

“Mmm,” Lady Kaina hums from next to you, pulling you back to the ground after your head starts to float off with the string quartet. “Yeah, you’re gone.”

“I’m standing right here.”

“But your attention is elsewhere, friend,” she concludes, dipping into a curtsy and sending you a wink before disappearing into the milling crowd. “You might want to open your fan. Your eyes are giving you away and he’s coming this way.” As if on cue, the low voice that no longer sent chills up your spine appeared over your shoulder. 

“You’re not causing trouble, are you?”

“Speak for yourself,” you scoff, meeting his eyes with a considerably less amount of fear than weeks prior. The wool of his coat tonight was copper-colored, making the blue of his eyes glow even brighter. They always seemed to shine more when you were looking into them. “You socialize with the same grace as a wolf in a chicken coop.”

“I’m doing a great job, then,” he drawls, positioning himself next to you in a way that, if people were walking by, they would run into his shoulder rather than yours. Another perplexingly thoughtful action that you couldn’t figure out a motive for. “You were speaking with Lady Kaina?”

“I was. She’s a very informed individual.”

“Any information about me?”

“Only the well-known,” you state cryptically. He glances at you with a curiously amused look. 

“Such as?” 

“How you prefer orange zest in your bubble baths and were shorter than a doorknob until you were seven years old,” you jest and the corner of his mouth tugs upward, following your lead as easily as breathing. 

“It’s lemon zest, not orange,” he murmurs and you stifle a laugh into your glove, nodding curtly at passing ladies. “Will you still be accompanying me while I babysit Prince Keigo next week?”

“I’m not sure I have a choice,” you admit, spotting the scarlet-feathered coat of the royal in question. In a way, both princes seemed to be matching each other in color schemes. Telling the prince beside you would most certainly end in a barrage of complaints about his royal duties, so you keep that part to yourself.

“Of course, you have a choice, though I will say it will only wound my pride further.” 

“Then for the sake of my sanity and your pride, consider my attendance guaranteed.” He nods in satisfaction, following your eye line to His Highness Prince Keigo. 

“I’m not going to duel another man, am I?”

“What do you mean?”

“You having eyes for Prince Keigo was not something I anticipated,” he muses and your face heats as you finally take Kaina’s advice, snapping your fan open instead of answering. 

“I don’t have eyes for anyone here, Your Highness,” you scoff, waving the fan back and forth in front of your burning cheeks. “If I were to muster up attraction to any royal, it would be Princess Fuyumi.” 

“You have a taste for the Todoroki family then? I always knew you couldn’t resist me,” he says, leaning close enough so that you can feel his breath on your ear. You freeze momentarily, pulse racing in your ears, but are just as quick to push him away. 

“I made it clear from the start of our arrangement that feelings were not to be factored into this relationship,” you state bluntly and he steps backward; you catch him blink a few times in a way that you’d learned was his way of hiding disappointment. Disappointment with what, you couldn’t understand, and you decide not to think about it further. The prince, however, isn’t satisfied. A satin-gloved hand extends to you and you stare at it with all the caution of taming an agitated cobra.  “What are you doing?”

“What do you think I’m doing? Dance with me,” he commands and you peer at him expectantly. His eyes roll to the side when he understands what you want, but he gives it to you nonetheless. “Please.”

“Do you have a certain connection with this song?” You ask in an attempt to cover up your sweating palms and heated face as he leads you to the middle of the floor. It was the first time he’d proactively asked you to dance, outside of the agreed-upon quota required to keep your ruse believable. “I can’t fathom any other reason to be dancing with you otherwise.” He’s still quiet, but his hands seem to be acting on their own tonight. One slides assuredly around your waist while the other interlocks its fingers in yours, ushering you closer than you’d ever danced with him before. “Are you about to end this whole arrangement? I’d prefer to know in advance if I am to be broken up with at the end of this evening–”

“With all due respect, dear,” he murmurs right next to your ear, “Please stop talking.” As the sound of strings dances around you, your body moves in time with his and you’re forced to look to the side, sensing his stupid mouth brush your forehead. “Loosen up a bit. You’re stiffer than a board.” 

“Forgive me,” you whisper back, barely able to keep your voice steady. “I–I’m–My mind is not currently present,” you swallow nervously and are relieved when he chuckles too, his chest humming against yours. You risk meeting his eyes only to find his gaze elsewhere, and you trace it to the scarlet-coated Prince Keigo charming debutantes across the room. His eyes are dark and threatening, an expression you only witness when he’s trying to guard a good hand of cards. The pieces click together in your mind one by one and you can’t help laughing when you realize what he’s doing. “I must say, jealousy is not a good look on you.” 

“I’m not jealous,” he mumbles like a child caught with his hand in the cookie jar, still avoiding your eyes. “You’re seeing things.”

“Is envy a better word, then? Resentment? Covetousness?” That catches his attention and you’re surprisingly unafraid of being the sole recipient of his intensity. 

“Call it being…defensive,” he manages after considerable amounts of thought, but you swear you catch the tips of his ears turning slightly pinker. “I’m merely establishing that I am your only suitor, even with a shiny new thing visiting.” Like a game, you press on, determined to see how far you can get before his bluff breaks. 

“Is that really for you to decide, though?” He tenses and you do not doubt that your eyes are shining in challenge. “What would happen if, for instance, I wanted to consider my prospects with His Highness Prince Keigo? Should he be interested, of course.” The muscle in the prince’s jaw clenches and his hand around your waist tugs you impossibly closer until you’re inches from his face. 

“He’d be either blind or foolish to not be interested,” he assures you and you’re back in another stare-off, feet moving unconsciously to the rhythm of the music while each of you waits for the other to back down. “Which is exactly why I’m making sure he sees you dance with me before anyone else.” You end up being the first to break, tearing your eyes away just in time to see Prince Keigo considering you and His Highness from across the ballroom. Your partner’s plan, it seems, has worked. As the song ends, he guides you off the floor with a strong arm under your fingers; you try not to think about the lean muscle flexed under your touch. 

“This ruse became more political than I anticipated,” you manage to force out after the adrenaline of your dance begins to subside. “I didn’t know I’d be defended like some damsel princess.”

“I consider it more flaunting than defending,” he corrects. “I do, after all, have the diamond of this season, though that may be influenced by bias.”

“All these sweet words for what end goal, my prince?” He swallows thickly, the only indication that your new nickname for him is heard. “For you to leave me at the altar with a sum of money and a broken heart?”

“It was what we agreed upon, was it not?” His burning eyes were sending you a completely different message but you can’t find the courage to acknowledge it. You felt like you’d just seen the river and were pushing all the stacks you had into the pot, only for him to raise again and again. Again and again and again, you didn’t know how much more you could risk. 

You fold. 

“Of course. An arrangement is an arrangement, after all.” You curtsy and turn away on shaky legs before you can see his reaction. “Goodnight… Touya.”

if you enjoy my writing and would like to support me, you can buy me a coffee on my ko-fi! you can also check out my full masterlist here :)

[violettavonviolet]

Tim Drake fic recs part 3

All of these fics are finished and amazing! The word count progressively goes up and all the ratings are noted, but def do check the tags for any triggers. all fics that have been stuck in my head since I read them are marked with a star.

Batfamily genfic's

Gotta Roll With The Curveballs

justapoorboy

Summary:

“How’d you cry so easily?” Duke asks, still entirely too awkward because no matter what Steph says, Duke still thinks Tim is kinda cool in a weird way. A really weird way.

“Oh, I classically conditioned myself over winter break when I was eleven. All I have to do to tear up is pinch a certain point on my arm. See?” Tim viciously pinches a spot on his inner forearm. Immediately tears start to well in his eyes.

Or: Duke Thomas dealing with Tim Pod-Baby Drake and what exactly that entails.

4.5k crack gen

A Matter of Trust

KelpieCodyne

Summary:

When Damian learns of an unexpected list of Batman contingencies, he's forced to go to Tim to vent.

And in doing so, might help the two of them find some common ground.

5k tim & dami gen

Days I Have Held (Days I Have Lost)

sepia_stained_sunset

Summary:

“You’ve outgrown me”

Damian frowns when he meets Tim’s gaze. He doesn’t say or do anything that warrants the feeling of loss that crawls up his arms and settles in his bones.

Then Tim is leaning towards him, on his toes, hands automatically going to his hair and mussing up his locks like he can’t fully miss the chance to annoy him. Still, his grip is gentle and his smile is real and Damian is more than glad to pretend that his eyes are devoid of their bitter sadness.

Or, Damian outgrows Tim. It shouldn't change anything, really, but it does. It does.

9k tim & damian gen

Satisfactory Bonding Activities

raven_of_hydecastle

Summary:

“Look, Dick and I had no idea how to be brothers either," Jason said, "but we made an effort to spend time together. If you and the demon brat aren’t sure where to start, maybe you can decide on some things to kick start these bonding activities.”

“Like what?”

“Hell if I know. Play twister, do an escape room, take over the world, learn to knit, I don’t care. Just pick something you can both agree will keep you busy for an hour or two and it’ll be fine. Now hand me that Molotov, these guys are going down.”

12k gen, tim & Damian

So...Rock, Paper, Scissors?

Miss_Lazy_Tuesday

Summary:

His smile widens. “You will pick one to kill. I shall give you ten minutes to decide and say your goodbyes. If you have not killed one of your brothers when the time is up, I will kill all three.”

Jason feels the bottom drop out of his stomach. This was supposed to buy him time, not give him a literal deadline.

“You see, little blade? I have made it so easy for you. You aren’t even really killing one. You are saving two. Your time starts now.”

24k angst mature

i can't let go when somethings broken

pennneminem

Summary:

the sky is blue, the earth is round, dick and bruce fight.

tim wishes it was a little easier sometimes.

or: tims crash course in the remains of childhood, rose colored glasses, and the economics of brotherhood

28k gen angst

Bludhaven Police Department

Lady_of_Lorule

Summary:

Sgt. Amy Rohrbach learns that her partner, rookie cop Dick Grayson, is not what he seems. Or how Amy finds out that Dick Grayson is the heir to the entire Wayne fortune, the vigilante Nightwing, the leader of the Titans, and meets some of the Batfam and the Titans along the way.

31k gen humor

right place, wrong time

Valkirin

Summary:

Twelve-year-old Tim Drake has homework to finish and dinner waiting at home. He even has an invitation to spend time with Bruce before patrol the next day reviewing toxins and antidotes. It doesn't matter that Bruce prefers to keep things all-business and down in the Batcave. Having Robin again is helping, Tim can already see that, and it's always a relief to know when he's invited back.

Sixteen-year-old Tim Drake decides that he'd rather keep his distance from the tempting research project Bruce has across two work tables. It's archaeology and time travel all at once, even more interesting than usual after Bruce's long trip through time, but Bruce probably won't crack that in one night. Getting involved in the project will eliminate Tim's chance to escape to his apartment for a quiet evening rather instead of struggling through an awkward dinner with Jason and Damian and Bruce.

When the Tims suddenly switch times and places, twelve-year-old Tim has an invitation to dinner and sixteen-year-old Tim knows just what kind of ripples someone can leave from the past.

38k teen angst

Say Uncle

Megaerakles

Summary:

Tim is prepared to take the steps necessary to ensure that Bruce will not feel obligated to adopt Tim when a comatose Jack Drake inevitably dies. But what could be better than preventing Bruce from ending up with a son he doesn't want? Bringing back the one he does.

Jason agrees to the Replacement's stupid, stupid plan to invite some strange adult man he's never met to come live with him, if only to keep the idiot alive long enough for him to serve his purpose in the Great Red Hood Revenge Scheme.

Might this new roommate situation have an impact on either of their worldviews? Surely not...

46k teen

Vultures, Squirrels, and Other Flying Menaces

AstraEllis

Summary:

He used to think that Batman needs a Robin. 

Now, Tim’s pretty sure that Robin was only ever a band-aid. 

He never tried to learn Batman’s identity, but he knows it, and Tim has no idea what to do next to save Gotham from Bruce Wayne’s violent rage. 

He becomes Batman’s shadow – never sidekick – trying to clean up the wreckage he leaves behind. 

A vulture, trying to remove decay before it has a chance to poison everything. 

Tim’s quest to save Gotham from Batman leads him to the most obvious victim – the man’s first Robin. But Dick Grayson’s grief is complex and deep, and not something the twelve-year-old has a fix for. 

What Tim Drake does have, however, is the know how to make money difficult to trace and a certain phone number.

51k dick & Tim & jason found family

Option C

CasualGeek

Summary:

Jason had to make a choice.

Enact his vengeance by killing the Joker himself.

Or

Forget Gotham and stay with Talia.

However, there was an option C.

One that could end with the Joker dead, with Bruce proven wrong and with Gotham changed for the better.

Jason took Gotham to court.

78k teen

cards on the table

wesslan

Summary:

Tim's parents faked their deaths and fled the country years ago, but neglected to take him with them. He spent some time on the streets, and now at 16, he makes a living as a fortune teller, stalking and hustling the shit out of Gotham's elite by telling them eerily accurate fortunes based on the information he gathers about them.

His life is peculiar but he wouldn't change a thing. When he gets booked for the big Wayne Halloween party, however, he finds himself getting all tangled up with the Waynes, and the more fortunes he tells, the tighter the snare becomes.

or: Tim just wanted to scam Gotham's elite, not end up on the Batfamily's watchlist. But it seems they just won't leave him alone..

69k not rated

Bruce Wayne

there but for the grace of god

TheResurrectionist

Summary:

From a tumblr prompt. 

AKA, "A Justice League fic where everyone argues about who's the most beautiful and intimidating sexy from the Big Three and everyone has valid points."

3.7k crack not rated 

Aliens Made Us Do It

FabulaRasa

Summary:

Bruce and Hal run into a little bit of cultural difficulty on an off-world mission. This was really, really not supposed to be Bruce Wayne's wedding day. Consider this story the traditional fannish "oh no we have to get married!" with a BatLanterny twist at the end

25k explicit hal/bruce

Acid Rain and Black Umbrellas

heartofhush

Summary:

Clark Kent hates Gotham. The people are weird, it's always raining, and nobody will give him a straight answer about anything.

He's certain that these people know who the Batman is, but nobody is talking. He just needs to find one of them willing to spill the secret. Any one of them. Seriously, there MUST be at least one.

His teenage son-clone-whatever is losing his powers, and Clark is torn between finding a cure, flirting with Bruce Wayne, and trying to figure out who the hell the Batman is under that cowl. 

Maybe this Tim Drake kid knows something useful.

39k bruce/clark timkon

Friends - Definitions May Vary

Slades_Snowflakes

Summary:

Bruce Wayne and Lex Luther are not friends.

However, Bruce Wayne's persona Brucie is about to re-define what friends means. And due to a series of weird and random moments, Bruce is about to learn that Lex Luthor could be a friend. Whatever that means.

154k Bruce/Lex

[lightlycareless]

Hey I'm sorry for spamming you again 😭

But... imagine Y/N and Naoya pulling this prank on Naomi. I get that Naomi would be so mad at both of them

https://www.instagram.com/reel/C1cVXQwrHjV/?igsh=MWhrd3pvdWt4Nml2dQ==

Hello!!!

Sorry for the late reply, but I have to say, this never left my mind. This was really cuuuuuteeeeeeeee!!!!!!! I just had to oblige omg and don't worry about spamming me, I love it keep it coming!!!

You know what I think? Naoya is actually the one to suggest this. By doing so is when  when you know he’s completely accepted his role as a father and is enjoying doing so. Jfc thank you for sending in this NOW ONTO THE DRABBLE.

Warnings: none. Fluff. Naomi is a growing baby :’).

Naoya didn’t have any social media presence before you.

No, scratch that. He had a presence, only that it entailed stalking following you back then when he barely started to know you.

Once the two began to date, you convinced him to open up a proper Instagram, mainly so you could fill it with posts of you and him together, tag him on your pictures, and to make it easier to share things whenever the two are apart.

However, when you two finally have a beautiful daughter named Naomi, everything changes.

Besides opening an account of her own (only for friends and family of course, everyone else can jump off a cliff for all they care) to record of her day by day, from the cute matching outfits you’d dress her in, to her achievements, or simply anything she did that you found remotely funny.

Naturally, Naoya keeps up with every single thing that you post + all the messages you send him regarding his family; he is the first one to like and react and all in between as soon as you post them, and soon, he’s even looking for inspiration on what else to fill her feed with…

Or simply spend time with Naomi.

Thus, he begins to follow family content, accounts that suggest activities and places to go to with his lovely daughter… or innocent pranks to partake in.

That’s how the video came to be.

“What do you think? Shall we do it?” Naoya says, offering his phone to you.

“Oh… well, I don’t know.” You murmur, and not because you didn’t want to, but rather��� “Naomi is too sweet, I don’t think she’s going to do anything besides giggle!”

“We don’t lose anything by trying.” He insists. “It’ll be funny if she does something, though. Might be able to record it too.”

“Alright, alright!” you quickly agree, not that really need much convincing. “We can do it once she wakes up from her nap!”

Thus, after little Naomi wakes up, as well as checking if she’s neither hungry nor in need for a change, Naoya is the first one to assume position, getting beneath the soft, warm covers and subsequently closing his eyes, ready to act as if he were asleep and let this prank begin.

“Go with papa, pumpkin!” you whisper once gently placing on the futon, just beside Naoya. She’d then begin to crawl over to him.

Naoya tried his best to not laugh at Naomi’s adorable coos and babbles, the ones clearly intending to call for her father’s attention, only to cruelly receive none of it.

She’d persist on by grabbing onto a handful of his hair and pulling it, hoping that by this he’ll finally stop acting the fool and look at her!

But after a few attempts, Naomi eventually gives up and instead does the most unexpected, cutest thing that either could’ve hoped, which was to nuzzle against his chest, close her eyes, and fall asleep once more.

How the two managed to not screech out of happiness is a mystery to remain, as well as his resistance to keep still while Naomi laid on him, perhaps the most difficult endeavor he had to endure in his whole life—no special grade mission could compete!

Either way, it was an adorable reaction that amounted to taking a few pictures, which both would fondly look at in the future.

Yet, your curiosity still demanded to know what kind of reaction Naomi would have towards you, thus, in another occasion, you’d replicate the same scenario although now in Naoya’s shoes, silently hoping that you’d also get a semblance of Naomi’s adorableness, not that you weren’t getting much of it any other time of the day, but you couldn’t allow yourself to be left out!!

So, you lay on the futon, with your husband placing Naomi besides you, doing your best to not giggle when she begins to prod at you, repeating somewhat of the same actions as she did with her father… though there was to be a slightly more aggressive edge to her actions, almost as if she’d caught onto their intentions and grew annoyed by it.

Perhaps… too annoyed, for this would be the first time either saw a new side of Naomi, the one that described far beyond a simple baby that radiated nothing but happiness and sunshine, a personality to be discovered, if not handled, because these negative emotions would be the first she’d ever experienced, and thus, ignorant on how to deal with them—unknowingly taking them out on you.

“Ouch!” you immediately shriek when Naomi’s small hand sharply slams against your cheek, repetitively doing so across your face until you eventually intervened by grabbing her arms. “No, don’t hurt mama!”

“Naomi!” Naoya gasps, quickly lifting her away from you. She whines, trying to fight against his hold while trying to reach out for you again. “No, Naomi, stop!”

“Nnghh bah!!” she protests, furiously trying to squirm her way out of his arms but failing. “Mah!”

“I won’t let you go back to mama if you’re going to keep hurting her!” Naoya declares, and for the briefest of moments Naomi seems to understand, enough for her to eventually quiet down and cease her rebuttal, but not from pouting or crying.

“Naomi… I would never ignore you intentionally!” you say, stretching your arms to hug her. Naoya lets her go with much hesitance, although by that point, Naomi could only express her regret. “It was just a silly prank, no need to be upset.”

Naomi pouts, as if embarrassed before resting her face onto your chest, sniffles eventually turning into hiccups.

“But that doesn’t mean it’s ok to hurt me, sweetie.” You add. “You hurt mama very bad.”

Naomi whines, and both know that even when young, she wholeheartedly regrets her actions.

Once tiring herself by crying, as well after eating a bit, Naomi would eventually fall asleep, giving both parents the perfect moment to ponder about what transpired and how to approach this situation.

“Why did she react that way? I never thought our little pumpkin had it in her, always so adorable…” Naoya sighs, crossing his arms as he relaxes against the wall while watching you prepare the food for that day.

“Well, not that you mention it… Naomi always whined whenever I had to peel my eyes off her.” You admit. “I thought she was being talkative, or simply acting like any other baby would when away from their mom, but I guess it was something deeper than that.”

“Who would’ve thought our daughter was the jealous type?” he snickers, you smile.

“Since she’s got you as a dad.”

“I’m not jea—”

You raise an eyebrow.

“Fine, alright. But I would never hurt you.”

“She’s just a baby, a cute, adorable one that is starting to discover her feelings and how to react to them.” You add. “Naomi must’ve been upset that we tried to do the same thing on her twice, when she just wanted to play.”

“Or that she called for us and we didn’t answer immediately.”

Like we usually do.

You sigh.

“Oh, I must’ve spoiled her horribly!” you cry. “I was advised against giving her too much attention, that it’ll make her more demanding and whatnot…”

“By whom? My relatives?” Naoya frowns, you look away. “I wouldn’t take advise from people that leave their children to their own whenever committing mistakes…”

“I don’t want to do something that will hurt Naomi in the long turn” you quietly admit, looking back at him. “But I’m also scared of reprimanding her, of seeing her upset!”

Raising a daughter was not to be an easy thing, as enthusiastic both were. Her fate, the way she’ll grow up to be, all the achievements she’ll obtain and more greatly rely on what you, as her parents do; in that case, there is no room for mistake…

But luckily for Naomi, she had both her mother and father wanting nothing but what’s best for her, and after understanding what needed to be done, the two began to help her channeling her emotions into something more positive—something that will hopefully branch out into sorcery when the time is right, Naoya hopes.

That didn’t mean Naomi would stop demanding of either your or Naoya’s attention (specifically yours) though in a less aggressive manner. She’d still a bit overzealous whenever others attempted to sway you away from her, (Naoya included) but that wouldn’t last long until she was doted on by the same people that tried to distract her—always loving the attention, Naomi was never one to deny them.

Though her behavior could sometimes become concerning, Naoya and you knew well to enjoy these short moments with her, for it wouldn’t be long before she’d grow up and leave these antics behind, just as most kids did, replacing them with a bit of… apprehension for said demonstrations of affection.

Or preference for pranks, that is.

“When will you two stop doing that?” Naomi would eventually ask after the nth prank that week—at first, they’d make her laugh, then confused, but now, irritated. As expected of a young teenager who wanted nothing but to not appear humiliating to her friends.

“Probably never, little pumpkin.” He answers with a chuckle. “Not when your reactions are hilarious.”

“And when will you stop calling me that?!” Naomi frowns, cheeks red. Naoya laughs once more.

“See?” he shrugs. “You’re not helping yourself, Naomi!”

“Ugh, whatever.” She rolls her eyes, turning around to leave. “Have fun with your lame and old jokes.”

“Old?? I’m not—I’m not old!”

Long are the days where adorable little Naomi would scurry to her parents whenever she could, chubby little hands reaching out for them so they’d carry her, giggling as soon as her cheeks where peppered with kisses.

But she’ll always remain their little one, the one that taught them love at first sight does exist, the wonders of parenthood, as well as what it’s like to be the embarrassing parent for once in their life—a bane they never thought to experience, thinking themselves to be cooler than average, a reality that was quickly shattered with Naomi's sharp refutal.

It's like a cycle, y/n and naoya preaching that they could never be uncool and then... Naomi comes along. hahahah

Anyways, I envisioned for a long time now that Naomi is quite aggressive when it comes to getting what she wants; she probably never shows that because you and naoya just endlessly dote on her—but it becomes quite apparent in situations like this, and of course, when she has siblings.

though with hard work and dedication that stops :> she learns that being jealous about something like that (something that she'll always have) is not the right way to go on with her life and it's also a waste of energy so, she moves on :) I wish naomi could stay a little baby forever tho, writing naoya and y/n as enthusiastic first time parents is 🥺❤️

I truly enjoyed writing this little drabble, it warmed my heart 🥺❤️ thank you so much for sending in this!! I always appreciate whatever you share with me 🤭 I look forward to the next hehe.

Take care, and hope to see you soon!!

[procrastinatingsoicanreadfanfics]

A child of our own

Summary: Harwin always wanted to be a father

Notes: I had a similar request that asked for smut, so this one is gonna focus more on the happiness part of it :))))

Harwin would love to be a girl dad, just saying. He’ll play pretty princess for his girl and do tea parties and dress up all day.

Can be read as a standalone, but also as a continuation of I am his and he is mine. Reader is from the Westerlands.

Warnings: pregnancy announcements, protective Harwin

Tagged: @majesticwren @obsessiveformiyatwins @a-beaverhausen @levithestripper (hmu to be added!!)

Masterlist | based on this request | requests are OPEN!

Deciding whether to tell him or not is not the problem. You know he longs for a child of his own, no matter if it is a boy or a girl. The question is just how you tell him.

“You are already beginning to show.” Your maid-in-waiting reminds you as you put your hand over your stomach.

“I know.” You sigh in response.

“Especially if you keep doing that, my lady.” She japes. You chose Klaryssa as your handmaid because you liked that she had a personality and would be like a friend to you, but right now, she’s only reminding you of your predicament.

“Do you have children, Klaryssa?” you asked her.

“A girl. Named her Brea.”

“And how did you tell your husband?”

“He ran off before I could. Always the same with Flea Bottom men.” She snorted.

“Right. But how would you tell your husband, if you had one?”

“You mean if I was married to Ser Harwin Breakbones? I don’t understand why you worry. He loves you, he wants you to have as many children as you want so that he can have his own army of chaos. Just tell him.” She suggested.

“It’s not that simple.” You reminded her.

“For you. Because you like reading and big words, I know.” She sighed.

Suddenly, the door swung open, and Harwin stepped in. Klaryssa quickly laced up your dress, helping you hide the pregnancy despite her claims that a reveal would not be difficult.

“And what are you ladies talking about?” Harwin asked, setting down his sword on a table.

“Nothing much.” Klaryssa quickly lied. “I’ll be going now, my lady. My lord.”

With that, she slipped out of the room, leaving you to your own thoughts.

“Pity she just dressed you.” Harwin murmured, twirling you with an extravagance he only put on to charm you.

“So desperate?” you asked.

“My beautiful wife. You truly make it difficult for me to fulfill my duties.”

“I thought you would be out all day?” you replied.

“You wound me. Do you wish to see me gone?” Harwin quipped, pulling you in by the waist. For a moment, you held your breath, hoping that he won’t notice your difference in size, but then he kissed you, completely ignorant of your thickened stomach.

“Not at all.” You said. “But I do hope I mustn’t attempt to learn archery again.”

“I fear you are a hopeless case in only that, my Lady. But I am sure a crossbow will suit you just fine, should you ever join me for a hunt. The 25th nameday of Princess Rhaenyra is coming up in a few weeks, and there shall be a celebration. Your father demands a show of strength be made of it.”

“And that entails?” you asked.

“Visiting a tailor.”

“I’d much rather spend the day reading, thank you very much.” You replied.

“I know.” Harwin sighed. “But the tailor makes all of Queen Alicent’s dresses, so we’ll be in good hands.”

“I do not wish to declare war on anyone just yet.” You japed, and Harwin’s face grew more serious.

“I forgot.” You said quickly, remembering what Harwin had told you soon into your marriage. He pulled you closer silently, as if he expected a masked killer to come bursting through the walls at the Queen’s behest.

“Come.” He said softly, leading you through the Red Keep. You realized now that preparations were already in full swing. Ser Laenor passed you once, speaking to Ser Qarl about the feast that was to be had.

You nodded respectfully, keeping close to your husband. It was uncomfortable for you to be under so many people, especially now that you knew the heir’s nameday was coming up. Just a few days ago, the betrothal of Prince Jacaerys and Princess Helaena had been announced, and while both Rhaenyra and her husband as well as the king looked happier for it, Queen Alicent had been snappy towards everyone that came close.

She had wished to betroth Helaena to her brother Aegon, but when Helaena herself had quietly protested against the match, the king had made his decision. Still, it was endearing to see the Princess brighten around the prince, who listened patiently to her ramblings about bugs and spiders.

You yourself had caught her in the hallways around the library once or twice, as if she was unsure whether or not she was allowed to enter and read the books you knew were on the shelves, detailing animals and their anatomy. Had you been more daring around people yourself, you would have invited her to join you.

As you and Harwin stood in front of the room the seamstress was occupying for that day, you watched as Prince Aemond rushed past, a young girl with a soot covered face running after him, the two of them laughing maniacally.

Harwin and you glanced at each other, unable to suppress a quiet laugh that escaped you at the sight of the young prince being chased through the castle by the blacksmith’s daughter.

“They are adorable.” He rumbled, holding the door open for you as another lady of the court walked out.

“They are.” You agreed. “Though no doubt they give their parents a terrible headache.”

The seamstress was an old woman, so tattered that it was a wonder her fingers were steady, but that was how you knew she was a master at her craft. Fabrics were laid out around you, one more gorgeous (and no doubt more expensive) than the rest.

“House colors my father said?” you asked, and Harwin nodded.

“It is good that dark blue suits you so well.” He replied. You blushed at the compliment, still unused to so much attention on yourself.

Carefully, you touched the almost night blue fabric the seamstress held out to you. It shimmered in the light, creating an effect of rippling waves as you turned it over.

“Do you like it?” Harwin asked. You nodded in reply.

“I’ll buy it for you.” He assured. It was too expensive, but if he insisted…

The seamstress shooed Harwin out as she took your measurements, as if the two of you weren’t married to each other. Secretly, you were grateful for it.

“Seems like I’ll have to accommodate for a bump in the dress.��� She muttered.

“Is that possible?” you asked.

“The waist will have to be set ridiculously high. Not exactly the current fashion, but the heir you’ve got will no doubt steal all attention from my dress anyway.”

You wrung your hands nervously, hoping that she would not speak about the bump when Harwin returned to the room. The old seamstress noticed, giving you a lopsided smile.

“Nervous, eh?” she asked. You nodded.

“Don’t exactly know how to break the news.”

“Don’t worry, my lady, I see the way he looks at you. Most women don’t get so lucky.”

After the conversation with the seamstress, you had set your mind to telling him. It wouldn’t be hard. He would be happy. Right?

Harwin sat in your shared chambers idly, reading through a report and occasionally drinking from his wine. You were sat across from him, a book in hand. Normally, you’d enjoy being in each other’s silent company but today, there was something nerve-wracking about it.

Absentmindedly, you began picking at your lips.

“Is something wrong?” Harwin asked. Quickly, you shook your head, returning to your book.

“You’ve been… quiet all day.” He continued.

“I’m a quiet person.” You replied, drawing up your knees to your chest. You tried to focus on your book, and how comfortable your chaise longue was, but failed miserably.

“What’s wrong?” Harwin asked, and you set your book down with a heavy thump.

“Nothing.” You lied.

“You’re worried.”

“I am.”

“And anxious.”

“What a wonderful summary of my character.” You quipped, uncharacteristically sharp.

“I didn’t mean-“ Harwin began.

“I’m pregnant.” You blurted out. There, it was over with. Not as elegant as you’d wanted, but out in the open regardless.

“You- What?” Harwin asked.

“Pregnant. With child. Expecting. Gestational.” You said nervously, mindlessly listing synonyms. You felt frazzled as Harwin put down his report.

He walked over to you, kneeling before you and putting his hands on your stomach.

“I heard you the first time.” He said with a small smile. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” You said. Your nervosity was beginning to dissolve as Harwin looked up at you, grinning brightly now.

“You worry too much.”

“I was worried whether you would mind.”

“Mind? I have always said that I wanted children, my dear.” Harwin laughed. “I can’t wait to meet you.” He whispered to your stomach and you laughed.

Harwin kissed you in response, with a softness that he seldom possessed. He scooped you up, placing you onto his lap and holding you tightly.

“You’ve made me the happiest man in the world.” He whispered between kisses, and you thought you might begin to cry from relief.

“What if it’s a girl?” you asked. The child you bore would be the heir to Harrenhal, and you knew your duty.

“Wonderful. I’ll take her out to hunt and hawk.”

“You wouldn’t mind?” you asked, and Harwin shook his head.

“Don’t ever believe that for a single second.”

Harwin wrapped his arms around you, holding you as close as possible, and you leaned into his touch. You stayed like that until Klaryssa summoned the two of you for dinner.

Before you could stand from the chaise longue, Harwin had already lifted you into his arms and carried you towards the door.

“Let me down!” you demanded.

“I have to keep you as healthy as I can now.”

“I am pregnant, not terminally ill.” You huffed. Harwin let you down with a grumble.

“Just wanted to hold you a little longer.” He said, and you kissed him on the cheek.

“We’ve got all the time we could need.”

His hand found yours, and together, you walked towards dinner. If Lyonel Strong’s reaction was anything like that of his son, you had nothing to worry about.

[tomionefinds]

More PWP Fics

To plump up this tag - Mod Haus

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Hermione gets a promotion at the Department of Mysteries. Never would she have guessed that her new job would entail feigning royalty.

[khey-s]

"I only need to finish the sleeves and hem the raw edges. It will only take ten minutes or less to finish," Hunter explained, laying the diminutive, incomplete garment on the sewing machine.

"You told me that hours ago," Flapjack remarked with annoyance. He tapped his twig-like foot on the table; since he weighed less than a pound, the result was unsurprisingly underwhelming. "I want it now," he insisted, dragging out the last syllable.

"I had more important tasks to accomplish," Hunter argued, raising his head.

"Am I not the most important person in your life?" Flapjack gasped loudly, sounding utterly betrayed by his best friend. "Et tu, Brute?"

"You know what I'm trying to tell you," Hunter disputed, unimpressed by Flapjack's theatrics.

"The gall, the nerve, the audacity." Flapjack placed the back of his left wing against his forehead. "You're being so mean to me, Hunter. So mean to the charming, destitute little Flapjack and his poor, fragile, despairing heart. I shall leave and never return."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever you say." Hunter waved his hand dismissively.

Flapjack channeled the spirit of his presumed past life as a theater actor and fainted with all the drama it entailed.

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: The Owl House (Cartoon) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Flapjack | Cardinal Palisman & Hunter | The Golden Guard (The Owl House), Hunter | The Golden Guard & Luz Noceda Characters: Hunter | The Golden Guard (The Owl House), Flapjack | Cardinal Palisman (The Owl House), Luz Noceda Additional Tags: Fluff, Humor, Fluff and Humor Summary:

On a pleasant afternoon, one of Hunter's secrets comes out. Unlike most of them, it's not painful or appalling, it's just embarrassing.