#Ethan is the father of Grace

[chieftyphoonchaos]

The Spy….He is my father!!!

She is ours , but she has MY eyes Ethan !

"I Know. I Know." 💕💕💕👩👨👧

"Our lives are the sum of our choices. And we cannot escape the past. "!

Tom Cruise as Ethan Hunt : The former lover of Marie and father of Grace 💕👨

Mariela Garriga as Marie : The former lover of Ethan and the mother of Grace 💕👩

Hayley Atwell as Grace Hunt: Ethan and Marie's daughter

[kindlythevoid]

I saw someone say that since we didn't see Grace's name on the passport, maybe she has a connection to the woman who was murdered by Gabriel. Maybe she's her daughter or her and Ethan's.

That is a really cool theory!! I definitely don’t think Grace is her real name, but I also don’t think the one on the passport (or any of the passports, for that matter) is real either.

My first instinct was to look up how old the actors are (even though Hollywood doesn’t usually care) to see if the daughter theory has an credibility and actually!! Hayley Atwell is around twenty years younger than Tom Cruise and if Grace really is his daughter or him and the woman’s daughter or the woman’s daughter, then that could totally check out!!

I’ll admit I didn’t get too great a look at the woman in the movie, but I definitely think Grace could be the Hollywood daughter of Ethan and her. Even if she isn’t their daughter (and mission impossible has had a history of intertwining people’s backstories), I still think that Grace being the link between the flashbacks and the present would be a really cool take on the whole thing.

Kindly,

The Void

[astrxq]

https://www.tumblr.com/astrxq/757321046554755072/please-bring-back-spider-man-ethan-landry

FRIEND YOU SHOULD DO LIKE JEALOUS ETHAN LANDRY AND IDK PUT HARRY OSBORN IN THERE OR SUM 😭

A Shattered Glass, A Mended Heart

spider-man!ethan landry x reader

words: 6k

The autumn breeze rustled through the trees lining the campus walkway, sending a cascade of amber and gold leaves swirling around your feet. You adjusted the strap of your backpack, the weight of your textbooks a constant reminder of the mountain of assignments waiting for you and Ethan back at your shared apartment. With the chill in the air, you quickened your pace, eager to get to your next class.

As you rounded the corner of the science building, a familiar voice cut through the crisp autumn air.

"Hey! Wait up!"

You turned, surprised to see Harry Osborn jogging toward you. His designer shoes, polished to a mirror shine, barely made a sound on the concrete path. His perfectly coiffed hair was miraculously untouched by the breeze, and you couldn't help but wonder how he managed to always look so impeccably put together.

"Harry," you greeted him, your smile genuine. "I didn’t know you were back in town."

He fell into step beside you with an easy grace, his grin widening. "Just got back yesterday. Couldn't stay away from the city for too long, you know? Besides, I've got some exciting new projects in the works."

You nodded, genuinely intrigued. Harry had left college a year ago to take over his father’s company, Oscorp. In that time, he’d transformed it into a cutting-edge tech giant. "That’s great, Harry. I’m sure Ethan will be thrilled to hear about it."

For a brief moment, a flicker of something – was it disappointment? – crossed Harry’s face before his charismatic smile returned. "Oh, I’m sure he will. Speaking of which, how is our friendly neighborhood nerd?"

You playfully swatted his arm, the warmth of your gesture contrasting with the crisp air. "Be nice. Ethan’s doing well. Busy with classes and his internship, but that’s nothing new."

Harry chuckled, his eyes dancing with a hint of mischief. "Some things never change."

He paused for a moment, his expression turning more thoughtful. "Listen, I was thinking of having a little get-together this weekend. You know, to celebrate my triumphant return to New York. You should definitely come."

“I’ll check with Ethan and let you know,” you said, his eyebrow twitched in thought, clearing his throat before picking up his step again, catching up with you. 

“Right, Ethan’s totally invited as well.”

The air between you and Harry crackled with the electric tension of old friendships and unspoken words. Ethan had told you many times about how the sweet and kind Harry had been replaced by a cocky and dismissive one ever since he left for the business. 

“Perfect,” you replied, trying to keep the conversation light. The two of you walked in companionable silence for a few moments, the autumn leaves crunching beneath your steps. The campus was alive with the subdued hum of students rushing to their next classes, their breath visible in the chilly air. 

You wondered if Harry's demeanor had truly changed that much, if his new projects were as thrilling as he made them sound. The thought lingered as you both reached the entrance to your next class.

Harry glanced at his watch, then back at you, his smile easing into a more contemplative expression. "Anyway, I'll let you get to your class. But seriously, think about coming to the party. It’ll be good to catch up."

You nodded, appreciating his offer despite the undercurrent of tension you couldn't quite place. "I’ll definitely think about it. It’s good to see you back, Harry."

He gave you a quick hug, surprisingly, and then turned on his heel, heading off in the opposite direction. You watched him go, his back straight and confident as he vanished into the crowd of students, your eyebrows furrowed. 

Before you could think any harder on the sudden appearance of Harry, you felt a finger poke your side.

The unexpected poke pulled you from your thoughts, and you turned to find Ethan standing beside you, his usual wide-eyed excitement tempered with a soft smile. The slight dishevelment of Ethan’s hair, a product of a long day, only made his presence feel more comforting.

“Hey there,” Ethan said, “Got you this.” He held up the warm coffee cup to you.

You gratefully accepted the coffee from Ethan, its warmth seeping through your fingers and chasing away the autumn chill. You moved to kiss his cheek, cupping his face before fixing the hair strand that had fallen on his forehead.  "Thanks, Eth. You're a lifesaver."

Ethan's eyes crinkled with affection as he watched you take a sip. "Thought you might need a pick-me-up before your next class. How's your day been so far?"

You hesitated for a moment, unsure whether to mention your encounter with Harry just yet. "It's been... interesting," you said finally. "Actually, I ran into Harry Osborn a few minutes ago."

Ethan's stance stilled for a moment. "Oh?" he said, his voice carefully neutral. "How is he?"

“Um, he is well. I think.” you said, taking another sip and moving to link your hands together before sitting on one of the stone benches on the side of campus. “He seems excited to be back.”

Ethan’s eyes narrowed slightly, and he sat down beside you, the warmth of the coffee in your hands a stark contrast to the chill of the air. The stone bench felt solid beneath you, its surface cool but welcoming. You could sense a subtle shift in Ethan's mood, a quiet caution that spoke volumes despite his outward calm. 

“Are you not happy that he’s back? Maybe he’s not so bad anymore.”

Ethan sighed, his gaze fixed on a cluster of students hurrying past, their breath misting in the air. The campus, bathed in golden sunlight, seemed oblivious to the undercurrents of tension. His fingers drummed absently against his own coffee cup, a rhythmic counterpoint to the rustling leaves.

"I don’t know," Ethan said slowly. His voice carried a weight of unspoken concerns. "Harry’s been… different since he left. When he was here, he was one of the good guys, you know? But after he took over his father's company, he became more – well, an ass."

You nodded, understanding more than you could put into words. Ethan’s words resonated with a truth you had glimpsed in Harry’s brief visit. The charm and confidence seemed genuine, but there was a layer of something unspoken, a hint of the past that lingered in his eyes.

Ethan’s gaze softened as he looked at you. "It’s just that–" he hesitated, choosing his words carefully. “It doesn’t matter.”

You reached up to his hair again, fixing the few curly strands that had messily moved out of place because of the breeze. “How was your exam?”

Ethan's lips quirked into a small smile at your tender gesture, and for a moment, the campus around you seemed to blur, leaving just the two of you in a cocoon of shared warmth and familiarity. “It was pretty intense, but I think I did okay,” he said, his voice holding a note of cautious optimism. 

“I’m sure you did great,” you said reassuringly, giving his hand a gentle squeeze. “You always do. Besides, you’ve been working so hard lately. You deserve a break.”

Ethan’s smile widened, his eyes reflecting a mix of relief and affection. “I’ve been looking forward to catching up on some downtime. Maybe a movie night this weekend?”

You hesitated, the memory of Harry’s invitation resurfacing. 

"About this weekend," you began carefully, your eyes searching Ethan's face. "Harry mentioned he's throwing a party. He invited us both."

Ethan's expression shifted, a flicker of emotion passing across his features before settling into a carefully neutral mask. "Oh," he said, his voice measured. "I see."

You watched him closely, trying to gauge his reaction. "We don't have to go if you're not comfortable with it," you offered, your voice soft. "I know things have been... complicated with him."

Ethan was quiet for a moment, his gaze distant as he seemed to consider the situation. The campus bustled around you, students rushing to and from classes, oblivious to the delicate conversation unfolding on the stone bench.

Finally, Ethan turned back to you, a small, resigned smile on his face. "No, it's okay. Maybe it would be good to see Harry again. Who knows? Maybe things have changed."

You squeezed his hand gently, appreciating his willingness to give Harry a chance. "Are you sure?”

“Yeah, I could use a break from Uni anyway.”

“I’ll let Harry know we’ll be there."

He sighed, stretching his arms out and grinning at you before resting his chin on your shoulder, his coffee cup empty and sitting next to him. “Pizza tonight?”

As Ethan’s arms draped around you, you felt the comforting weight of his embrace, the warmth from his body a soothing balm against the cool autumn air. The campus around you seemed to fade into the background, the golden sunlight casting a soft glow over the scene. You nestled into him, savoring the simplicity of the moment.

“Pizza it is,” you agreed with a laugh, leaning into Ethan's shoulder. “And I’ll definitely need it to recover from Mr. Kunning’s lecture. He’s been relentless lately.”

Ethan’s laughter was a low rumble against your ear, a sound that always had the power to lift your spirits. 

His fingers began to trace absent circles on your back, his touch light and reassuring. When the loudly frustrating phone alarm rang from your pocket, Ethan stood up, stretching his arms above his head with a dramatic yawn. “Alright, back to the grind for you.”

You huffed, taking one last sip of your cup before resting your forehead on his chest dramatically. “You’re done for the day and I’m stuck here.”

He kissed your hair, “You’ll survive. Just think about the pizza later.”

“I’ll be thinking about it all afternoon, trust me.”

Ethan’s nose brushed against your neck, the touch tender and fleeting, a silent promise of the comfort that awaited you later. You looked up at him, catching the sparkle of mischief in his eyes as he slowly pulled away.

“Alright, off you go,” he said with a playful nudge. “And remember, the sooner you finish your classes, the sooner we get to pizza.”

You gave him a wry smile, reluctantly pulling away from the hug.  “Don’t think I’m not looking forward to it,” 

Before turning to walk away, you reached up and planted a quick, affectionate kiss on his lips. Ethan’s eyes softened, and he grinned, the hint of a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth.

He waved, his grin wide and infectious as he watched you walk away. You couldn’t help but smile, feeling his warmth linger even as he receded into the bustling campus crowd.

Later that evening, once the sky had cleared into a darker blue, you unlocked the door to your apartment, the smell of slightly burnt pizza greeting you as you stepped inside. You found Ethan in the kitchen, frantically waving a dish towel at the smoking oven.

"Uh, welcome home?" he said sheepishly, his glasses slightly askew and a smudge of flour on his cheek. "I may have slightly miscalculated the cooking time."

You couldn't help but laugh as you set down your bag and moved to help him. Ethan's cheeks reddened slightly as he ran a hand through his already messy hair. 

"Maybe we should order in instead?" you suggested, trying to suppress a giggle as Ethan sheepishly nodded in agreement, desperately throwing out the crusted and burnt pizza.

As you settled on the worn-out couch with your delivery pizza, Ethan's arm draped comfortably around your shoulders. The TV hummed softly in the background, he nipped kisses on your neck, moving to your jaw and to your collarbone as you finished your last piece, you hummed a laugh as you felt him reach your cheek – obviously wanting you to finish your last bites so he could steal a kiss.

Finally, with a playful glint in his eyes, stole the last slice of pizza from your hands, and you laughed, swatting his hand away. “I’m not done with that!” you protested, though your smile betrayed your amusement.

He shrugged, leaving it on the plate before shifting his body closer to yours, a hummed laugh escaping his lips before he placed his mouth on yours. The kiss was soft, Ethan’s lips were gentle against yours, the playful urgency of his earlier mischief replaced by a deeper, more affectionate tenderness. 

Just when Ethan’s hand moved to cup your cheek to deepen the kiss, your phone buzzed on the couch, making you both pull away. Harry’s ‘Ok, see you ;)’ text lit up your screen, a response to your earlier message saying you and Ethan would show up at his party.

You pulled back slightly, your lips still tingling from Ethan's kiss. His eyes met yours, a glint of curiosity mingling with something more unsettling – an undercurrent of jealousy.

Ethan glanced at the phone screen and the text from Harry, his expression shifting. The playfulness that had been present moments ago was replaced by a furrowed brow and a slight frown. “Harry’s already getting all chummy,” he said, his voice carrying a hint of edge.

You could sense the tension building between you, and you took Ethan’s hand gently, trying to bridge the gap. “It’s just a text. I’m sure he’s excited to see us.” 

Ethan nodded, but the tightness in his jaw suggested he was still wrestling with his feelings. He leaned back on the couch, pulling you closer to him, though the warmth of his embrace now felt slightly strained.

“Yeah, maybe.” Ethan said, his eyes not quite meeting yours, gaze shifting to the TV again.

You reached to touch his chin, tilting your head as you looked at his profile. “We don’t have to stay long. We can just make an appearance and leave if it gets uncomfortable.”

He nodded, still quiet, and moved to run his fingers over your arm, tracing circles as you toyed with his hair. “I need to cut it,” he mumbled, feeling you twist one of his curls with your fingers. “It’s too long now.”

As you ran your fingers through Ethan’s curls, the soft strands slipping through your fingers, you could feel the subtle tension in his muscles slowly easing. 

“It’s cute,” you murmured, a playful lilt in your voice. “I like the way it looks.”

"Really?" Ethan asked, his tone betraying a mix of surprise and gratitude. "I thought it was getting a bit unruly."

You smiled, leaning closer to him. "I think it looks great, I like your curls."

Ethan’s eyes softened as he looked at you, his earlier unease momentarily forgotten. He leaned in and pressed a kiss to your forehead, his lips warm and reassuring against your skin. The gesture was simple, but it carried an intimacy that made the room feel even more cozy and safe.

The hum of the TV was a comforting backdrop to your conversation. As the evening wore on, you found yourselves wrapped in each other’s presence, the earlier worries about Harry’s party momentarily pushed to the back of your minds.

____________

“Why didn’t he tell us it was fancy?” Ethan grumbled under his breath, his hand on the small of your back and the other in his jean pocket. His eyes scanned the room, all the other guests wearing much less comfortable clothes. 

His other hand was stuffed into his jeans pocket, fingers gripping nervously at the fabric. His eyes darted around the room, taking in the sea of sharply dressed guests – men in tailored shirts and women in elegant dresses, their laughter mingling with the clink of glasses and the soft strains of a live string quartet. It felt almost like you didn’t belong there.

Ethan was convinced Harry did it on purpose, to embarrass him, to rub his new persona and belittle him.

You looked down at your own outfit – a simple dress paired with comfortable shoes – feeling slightly out of place among the opulent surroundings. 

You squeezed his hand, trying to offer some comfort. “I guess we should have asked for more details.”

Harry across the room drew your attention. He was talking animatedly with a group of guests, his tailored suit hugging his frame perfectly, a sharp contrast to the more casual attire you and Ethan had opted for. His eyes met yours briefly, and he flashed a dazzling smile, waving you over.

“Well, there’s no turning back now,” you said with a small, reassuring smile. “Let’s go say hi. I’m sure Harry will understand.”

Ethan gave a reluctant nod and adjusted his slightly wrinkled shirt, trying to smooth out the creases as you both made your way through the crowd. 

As you approached, Harry’s smile widened. He greeted you with a warm hug, his demeanor friendly but carrying a certain air of polished detachment. “You came!” 

Ethan grinded his teeth, obviously noticing Harry’s ignorance of his presence, fully focused on you. 

“Ethan, good to see you!” Harry said, his tone sincere but carrying an undertone of distance. He extended his hand, which Ethan shook firmly, though his grip was slightly more reserved than usual.

Ethan forced a tight smile. Harry’s gaze moved to where Ethan’s hand rested, he lifted his brows at the grounding touch. You could sense Ethan’s irritation simmering just beneath the surface. 

Smirking, Harry took a step closer, uttering your name before offering you to go fetch a drink, he pointed at the bottle-filled table a few feet away- You reluctantly stepped away, giving Ethan one last reassuring look before making your way to grab two cups. Ethan took a step forward, ready to follow behind you and leave Harry behind, but his old friend’s pull on his shirt stopped him. 

“Still pining after her, eh? Haven’t moved on yet, I see.”

Ethan’s jaw tightened at Harry’s comment, the edge of irritation sharpening in his eyes. The gentle hum of the string quartet and the murmur of conversations around you seemed to fade as Harry’s words hung in the air. You glanced back at Ethan, noticing the flicker of hurt and frustration on his face.

“Not at all,” Ethan said, his voice a controlled rasp. He tried to mask his irritation with a forced smile, but the tension in his posture was evident. “We’re together.”

Harry’s eyes widened slightly, but his smile didn’t falter. Ethan’s eyes didn’t leave your figure, grasping at any chance to avoid Harry’s smirk and heavy stare. “Hm,” Harry taunted, “She didn’t mention it when we bumped into each other.”

Ethan wasn’t stupid, he knew Harry and he knew that tone. He was taunting him. Ethan's hands clenched at his sides, his knuckles turning white as he struggled to maintain his composure. The party around them seemed to fade into the background, the laughter and music becoming a distant hum as he focused on Harry's words.

"It was a two minute conversation," Ethan said, his voice low and controlled. He took a deep breath, trying to calm the storm of emotions brewing inside him. "Or maybe she thought you already knew, considering we've been together for a while now."

Harry's eyebrows raised slightly, a flicker of something – surprise? disappointment? – crossing his face before his usual charming smile slid back into place. "Well, congratulations are in order then," he said, clapping Ethan on the shoulder. The gesture felt more patronizing than friendly. 

Ethan's eyes narrowed at Harry's words, a mixture of hurt and anger bubbling beneath the surface. He opened his mouth to respond, but you returned at that moment, two glasses in hand.

"Here we go," you said, handing a drink to Ethan. Your smile faltered as you sensed the tension between the two men. You leaned towards Ethan, his arm instinctively wrapping around your waist.  "Is everything okay?" 

Harry's charming grin returned in full force. "Of course! Just catching up with Eth here. It's been too long, hasn't it?"

Ethan nodded stiffly, his fingers tightening around the glass. "Yeah, too long," he echoed, his voice lacking any real enthusiasm.

“How long have you been...?" He gestured between you and Ethan, his tricky smile never wavering.

Ethan opened his mouth to respond, but you beat him to it. "We've been together for almost a year now," you said, leaning into Ethan's side.

Harry couldn’t hold in a chuckle, patting Ethan’s shoulder, almost as if they were the closest friends. “How did thathappen?”

You could feel Ethan's muscles stiffen beside you, his grip on his drink tightening as Harry’s words continued to grate on his nerves. Sensing the tension, you cleared your throat, wishing to change the subject. 

The tension in Ethan's body was palpable, his arm around your waist almost rigid. You leaned into him slightly, hoping to offer some comfort.

"So, Harry," you began, trying to ease the tension, "tell us about these new projects you mentioned. They sound exciting."

Harry's eyes lit up, and he launched into an animated description of Oscorp's latest ventures. As he spoke, his gaze kept flicking back to you, his smile widening each time he caught your eye. Ethan stood silently beside you, his posture growing increasingly tense with each passing moment. 

You could feel the unease radiating from Ethan, a tangible undercurrent to the lively atmosphere of the party. As Harry delved into his latest projects, you listened with half an ear, your attention focused more on Ethan’s discomfort. His fingers drummed against his glass, the rhythm betraying his inner turmoil.

Harry’s voice rose above the murmur of the crowd, punctuated by occasional bursts of laughter from the guests. He spoke of cutting-edge technology and revolutionary breakthroughs, his enthusiasm palpable.

Every time you’d turn your head to look at Ethan, Harry’s hand would land on your arm, his posture changing to lean closer to you so you’d pay attention to him. Even though you moved away, Harry was too immersed into his own words to contemplate. 

Ethan was sure his eyes were going to pop out of their sockets if he stared at the guy in front of him any harder, a glare on his face as he gripped the cup in his hand, knuckled white. He watched as Harry made flirty comments, practically begging for your attention as he spoke, his superior tone and words itching Ethan wrong. Every time he’d mention an experiment, he’d throw a jab at Ethan’s internship.

You could see the tightness in Ethan’s jaw, the way his fingers clenched around his drink, struggling to keep his cool amidst Harry’s veiled taunts.

Harry leaned in closer, his hand resting lightly on your arm as he spoke, you shook it off but he didn’t seem to mind as he continued to speak. The closeness made Ethan’s discomfort even more palpable, and you could feel him stiffening beside you. His gaze remained fixed on Harry, his eyes narrowing with a mix of resentment and helplessness.

As Harry mentioned a recent ‘breakthrough’ at Oscorp, he casually tossed in a remark about how ‘not everyone can be on the cutting edge of technology,’ a thinly veiled jab at Ethan’s more modest internship. The words cut through Ethan like a knife, his grip on his glass tightening to the point where the glass began to crack.

You didn’t immediately notice, too absorbed in trying to smile and nod in hopes for Harry to finish his story and scurry your way home. The moment you felt Ethan’s tension peak, however, you turned to look at him and gasped.

A sharp crack echoed through the room as the glass shattered in Ethan’s hand. The fragmented pieces fell to the floor with a clatter, drawing startled glances from nearby guests. Ethan’s face went pale as he stared down at the mess, the remnants of his drink staining his fingers and the floor, a few drops of blood on his hand.

You quickly stepped forward, setting your own glass down on a nearby table before turning to Ethan. “Are you okay?” you asked, your voice filled with concern as you took his hand gently.

Ethan’s gaze was fixed on the broken glass, his breathing uneven as he tried to regain his composure. “Yeah, I’m fine,” he said, his voice strained. His attempt at a calm demeanor was betrayed by the slight tremor in his hand and the angry flush of his cheeks.

Harry’s eyes widened with a mixture of surprise and amusement, though he tried to mask it with a concerned look. “Careful there, Eth,” he said, his tone dripping with false sympathy. 

“Gotta watch out for that strength of yours” Harry joked, though he was the only one that laughed. 

The Spider-Man joke flew over everyone’s heads, but Ethan tightened his jaw, glaring daggers at him.

The party’s chatter buzzed on, but the broken glass seemed to have created a vacuum around you and Ethan. You knelt beside him, gathering the larger shards with quick, practiced movements. The sharp edges glinted ominously under the soft lighting of the room. You could feel the discomfort radiating off Ethan, his frustration a palpable force that threatened to bubble over.

“Just stay still,” you murmured, carefully avoiding the smaller shards as you focused on his injured hand. The room seemed to hold its breath as you worked, the elegant surroundings contrasting sharply with the tense drama unfolding in the corner.

Ethan’s eyes flicked between the broken glass and Harry’s insincere expression. He tried to mask his irritation with a strained smile, but his attempt to keep his cool was failing. “I’ve got it,” he said, his voice taut. “Thanks for the help.”

Harry’s false concern was almost unbearable. “You should really be more careful,” he said, his voice dripping with condescension. “Maybe not everyone’s cut out for the finer things.”

You felt your patience thin as Harry’s gaze lingered on Ethan, his smile turning into a smirk. You shot him a look of icy displeasure before focusing entirely on Ethan, whose face was now a mix of anger and embarrassment.

“It’s alright, Ethan,” you said softly, trying to soothe him. “Let me just get this cleaned up.”

As you retrieved a nearby napkin, you could feel Ethan’s eyes on Harry, his irritation barely contained. You noticed Harry’s smirk falter slightly, his eyes narrowing as he realized his attempt to needle Ethan wasn’t working as intended. The party guests had returned to their conversations, though a few still glanced over curiously.

“Do you need any help?” Harry asked, his voice carrying an edge of false concern. His gaze shifted between you and Ethan, a flicker of satisfaction dancing in his eyes at the scene unfolding before him.

“I think we’ve got it covered,” you said firmly, your tone leaving no room for further intrusion. “But thanks.”

Ethan’s hand was now reasonably cleaned, though the redness from his grip was still evident. He looked up at you, his eyes reflecting his appreciation for your support. You could see the frustration slowly ebbing away, replaced by a determined resolve.

“We’ll walk ourselves out.” you clung to Ethan’s shirt, pulling him behind you as you walked towards the door without a second look at Harry.

Ethan exhaled heavily, his shoulders slumping slightly as he tried to shake off the lingering tension as you entered the glass elevator. “I’m sorry about that,” he said, his voice low. “I didn’t mean to cause a scene.”

You shook your head, offering him a comforting smile. “He was being an ass.” you referred to what Ethan had called him just days before, earning a small smile from him.

As the glass elevator doors slid shut behind you, the distant noise of the party became a muted hum, replaced by the soft chime of the elevator’s ascent. You stood side by side with Ethan, the gentle sway of the elevator a subtle reminder of the night’s earlier chaos. The flickering lights from the cityscape outside danced across the glass, casting a kaleidoscope of colors on the walls.

Ethan’s gaze was fixed on the floor, the weight of the evening’s events still pressing heavily on his shoulders. His fingers brushed against yours, and you instinctively intertwined them, a silent gesture of solidarity and comfort.

“I’m really sorry about tonight,” Ethan said again, his voice barely above a whisper. “I didn’t expect Harry to–”

You cut him off with a gentle squeeze of his hand. “It’s not your fault, Ethan. Harry’s always been like that. It’s just who he is.”

“He was being so… touchy.” he spat out, cheeks red.

It was almost endearing to see Ethan worked up like this, his usual calm and shy demeanor replaced with a rare display of frustration. You squeezed his hand again, trying to offer as much reassurance as you could.

“I know,” you said softly, your voice barely more than a murmur. “Harry’s always had a way of pushing buttons.”

Ethan let out a deep breath, his tension slowly dissipating. “I just… I didn’t expect him to be so–” He paused, searching for the right word. “–such a jerk. I thought maybe he’d changed, or at least that he’d be civil.”

You lifted your head to look at him, your eyes meeting his with a blend of sympathy and understanding. You ran your fingers over the dirty napkin on his hand, “Does it hurt?” 

Ethan shook his head, a wry smile curling on his lips despite the sting of the glass shards embedded in his palm. “It’s more of a nuisance than anything else. It will be healed by the morning.”

You frowned, not entirely convinced by his casual dismissal. You took his hand in yours, the sharp edges of the glass catching the dim light from the streetlamp outside as you walked the street. The glass was small, but the way it glinted made you wince in sympathy.

“You need those taken out.”

Ethan’s eyes softened, a hint of vulnerability breaking through his tough exterior. “You don’t have to, you know. I can manage.”

“You’ve managed quite enough for today,” you countered firmly, steering him towards the nearest all-night pharmacy.

The inside of the store was quiet, filled with the faint scent of antiseptic and the hum of fluorescent lights. You guided Ethan to a small section of first-aid supplies, your fingers brushing over shelves stocked with bandages, antiseptic wipes, and tweezers.

He trailed behind you with a soft flush to his cheeks as the red tainted napkin in his hand got the attention of the workers. “Come,” you grabbed his free hand, pulling him to walk behind you as you paid. 

As you approached the counter, the clerk offered a polite nod, his eyes flickering briefly to the red-stained napkin. You could feel Ethan’s discomfort radiating from him, a mix of embarrassment and pain that he tried to mask with a nonchalant attitude.

The clerk rang up the items – a small bottle of antiseptic, a set of tweezers, and a package of gauze – while you kept your gaze fixed on Ethan, reassuring him with a steady, unwavering look. His eyes met yours, and in that fleeting moment, you could see a hint of gratitude. 

“You don’t have to do this,” Ethan said quietly as you finished paying.

You offered him a soft smile as you gathered the bag and headed towards the pharmacy’s exit. “I’m already here, aren’t I? Besides, someone needs to make sure you don’t end up with an infection.”

____________

“Ow!”

“Eth! If you move your hand every time I tweeze something out we’ll be here all night.” you scolded, the tweezers in your hand and Ethan’s palm up on your thigh, the apartment’s bathroom light making it easier to see the crystals.

Ethan winced as you delicately extracted another shard of glass from his palm, the bathroom light casting sharp shadows across his face. He tried to keep his hand steady, but the sharp pricks of pain made it hard for him to stay still.

“Sorry,” you said, your tone soft but firm. “Just a little longer.”

“Ow!” he whined again, pushing his hand away and reaching for the tweezers, “You’re doing it too quickly, just let me do it.”

You gave him a look, knowing just how much he hated blood and how easy it was for him to get freaked out by injuries most of the time – ironically, since he got injured very often because of his suited persona. You handed him the tweezers, an unimpressed look on your face as his hand shook, making it harder for him to catch the small piece of glass in his hand.

He slowly, very slowly, tried taking it out. He winced again. “See? Let me.” you said, moving closer to get the tweezers again. He took the chance to wrap his arm around your waist, breath tingling against your temple as you focused on his hand. 

You felt the warmth of his breath on your skin, a subtle reminder of his presence that went beyond mere physical proximity. The closeness was comforting, even if his hand was a bit of a mess right now. 

He hummed the tune of a movie you didn’t quite recognize, every now and then stopping the song to complain or make uncomfortable noises. Finally, all the glasses were out of his hand, you could see the healing powers starting to fix his skin, though the thought of it irked you out, the lessening pain in Ethan’s face made you relax.

“There we go,” you mumbled, wrapping the bandage around his hand to stop the bleeding and help speed up the spider-healing. Just as you were about to take a step back, the hand that held you close to him pushed you even closer, his head falling to your shoulder. 

“Hm,” he nudged your arms, urging you to hug him back. With a chuckle, you followed suit. 

You wrapped your arms around him, the embrace both reassuring and intimate. His body relaxed against yours, the tension that had plagued him during the ordeal slowly melting away. The soft, rhythmic rise and fall of his breathing was soothing, a silent acknowledgment of the comfort you provided.

The bathroom was quiet, save for the faint hum of the ventilation fan and the occasional drip of the used water from the sink, which added to the sense of calm that enveloped the room. 

Ethan’s voice broke the silence, his tone softer now, filled with a hint of vulnerability. “You’re really something, you know that?”

You smiled, feeling the warmth of his breath on your neck as he spoke. You leaned to plant a soft kiss to his neck, moving up to cup his cheeks and pull him in for a slow kiss. Without another word, you pulled him out of the bathroom and to the couch, he curled up beside you.

ou led Ethan out of the bathroom and into the living room, his steps slow and deliberate as he nestled against you. The faint light from the street filtered through the curtains, casting a gentle glow that added to the tranquility of the room. The soft hum of the city outside was a distant murmur, almost like a lullaby accompanying the evening’s calm.

As you both settled onto the couch, Ethan curled up beside you, his head resting comfortably on the armrest while his injured hand was carefully propped up on a pillow. The gentle rise and fall of his chest was a soothing rhythm against your side. You could feel the warmth of his body, a comforting presence that seemed to anchor you both in the stillness of the night.

You gently smoothed his hair back, the gesture tender and reassuring. “Just relax,” you murmured softly, your fingers tracing soothing patterns on his scalp.

The moments stretched on, and you let yourself drift in the quiet intimacy. The world outside seemed to pause, giving way to this small, cocoon of calm and connection. You could feel Ethan’s steady breathing, the occasional twitch of his fingers as they adjusted to the comfort of the bandaged hand.

Eventually, Ethan’s eyes fluttered closed, his head nestled against your shoulder as he drifted into a peaceful slumber. The rhythm of his breathing was steady, a comforting reminder of his presence and the bond you shared. You remained still, your arms wrapped around him protectively, savoring the tranquility of the moment.

[silamander]

do you have any hatchetfield headcanons you’d like to share???

HOHOHOHO I COULD KISS YOU (/p)

- Peter gave Ted an “I ❤️ hot moms” shirt for Christmas one year.

- Boy Jerry applied for the Hatchetfield Gazette to help support Girl Jeri during her pregnancy.

- Paul has the gift and it’s predicting the future (kind of a sixth sense/precognition), hints on why he always knows/feels like something bad will happen. But that power is so small and weak because he never unlocked it or used it as a kid.

- Ted and Dan Reynolds were best friends in high school, everyone either had trouble telling them apart or thought they were twins.

- Duke has a cat named Holly. He can't exactly explain why he chose that name. Maybe it reminded him of something…

- Becky Barnes has freckles (cause I think it fits her)

- Barry Swift sleep-walks.

- Paul can't drive. He either calls a taxi or just walks around Hatchetfield like an NPC, head empty.

- Professor Hidgens is a former member of PEIP. Also he and General McNamara used to date, no I will not elaborate.

- People think that Becky “isn't as hot as she used to be” because back in high school she was always dressed up and would wear makeup almost everyday since she was cheer captain. She’s gotten rid of that habit after graduating but now people perceive her as “less hot” because god forbid a woman age and stop doing shit for the sake of being performative anymore.

- Nibbly's tongue flicks out of his mouth to taste the air like a snake when in his true form.

- Peter was a Greek mythology kid. Something about him screams "I read percy jackson way too much as a kid”

- Richie had a glee phase (no I will not elaborate, and neither will he if you ask him about it).

- Steph’s ripped jeans had small holes in them when she bought them and her dad made fun of her for buying something already broken so she made the holes bigger out of spite.

- Wiggly sleeps in sand like a squid. Like literally just buries himself in there, completely submerged.

- Pokey is trying to prove himself to his older siblings, and has a minor inferiority complex. So that’s why he needs to take over every timeline, to show he’s worthy.

- Hailey hates confrontation. That's the reason she's still "friends" and roommates with Zoey. It's not worth the effort or the fight.

- Gary Goldstein is the biggest Reality TV fan in Hatchetfield (except Zoey, she's a close second).

- Grace is the type of girl who says she hates drama and gossip but she knows all the drama at Hatchetfield High.

- Tom and Becky would often stargaze on the football field back in their high school days, especially after the big games. Stargazing together became their way to unwind and talk, without people listening in on every little thing being said and spreading rumors. Not like they would dare do that to two of the most popular people in school.

- Officer Bailey and Miss Mulberry are engaged (which is why they went to see Workin' Girls together).

- PEIP gives its agents training on how to do dramatic speeches and cryptic advice.

- Wiggly manifested an entire castle in the black and white for him and his siblings to live in.

- Karen and Mark Chasity sleep in separate beds like some sitcom couple from the 60’s. Grace thinks this is totally normal and is shocked and appalled to learn that it is not.

- Max's mom disappeared after being crowned Honey Queen when Max was around 5-6. She wanted the prize money to support her family because Max's father was laid off from his job.

- Ethan taps his fingers on literally every surface ever to whatever song is in his head. He has 100% rick rolled people this way.

- Max has two snaggletoothed incisors which is why people swear to god he has fangs.

- Paul uses his phone like a grandma, he puts on the glasses to read and everything.

- Ted reads romance novels. He’s a former geek turned sleazeball- you know he reads the smuttiest novels ever and calls them “his research”. He refuses to read any book with the friends to lovers trope because it’s too upsetting to think about.

- Back in college, Ted was a lot like AC!Pete. He was nerdy, sweet, and a little awkward but he still had some confidence and smugness. Basically him and Jenny were a lot like Steph and Pete in Abstinence Camp.

[chelseasdagger]

MASTERLIST

*includes gender neutral and female readers (uses female pronouns)

you can also check out these stories on ao3 if you prefer :)

FRANK CASTLE

Teacher (18+) - series (work in progress)

Fall From Grace

Clean (18+)

Immoral (18+)

ETHAN SAWYER

I’m on Fire (18+)

Unwind (18+)

All in My Mind (18+)

SAM ROSSI

In Fluorescent Light

Orange Glow (18+)

MIKEY BERZATTO

Behind the Red in My Eyes

FATHER PAUL HILL

Restoring Faith (18+)

JOEL MILLER

Alone and Forsaken (18+)

[mpregtales]

Aaron & Lucas Part 4

[Part 1]   [Part 2]   [Part 3]   ⬤   [Part 5]

As the seventh month approached, Aaron’s body continued to undergo significant changes. His belly had become a prominent, heavy presence, stretching far in front of him and pulling him slightly forward with every step. The weight of the life growing within him was palpable, a constant reminder of the incredible journey he was on. Meanwhile, the fullness in his glutes had become even more pronounced, the muscles rounding out and his cheeks stretching further, creating a soft, voluptuous curve that balanced the expanding weight of his belly.

Lactation had also become more active, with his pecs swelling further, the sensation of fullness a steady reminder of the nurturing role his body was preparing for. The weight in his chest added to the physical demands, but Aaron faced these challenges with grace, knowing they were part of the miraculous process unfolding within him.

Managing the increasing demands of his body wasn’t without its challenges, but with Lucas and Michael by his side, Aaron found a deep sense of peace. Their unwavering love and support were a constant source of strength, bolstering him as he navigated the physical and emotional changes. In their presence, Aaron felt fortified, their bond deepening with each passing day as they prepared for the arrival of their growing family.

And as Aaron looked in the mirror, seeing the changes in his body, he couldn’t help but smile. The journey was difficult, yes, but it was also beautiful, a testament to the love and life that surrounded him. He was ready to face whatever challenges lay ahead, knowing that he was not alone.

As Aaron entered the eighth month of his pregnancy, the house began to fill with a warmth and energy that only the return of the triplets could bring. Ethan, Gabriel, and Isabella, now in their early twenties, had come home from college to be with their father during these final weeks. The house, once quiet, was now alive with laughter, conversations, and the sound of footsteps as the children filled each room with their presence.

Aaron was overjoyed to have his children home. He had missed them deeply, and their return brought a renewed sense of purpose and joy. Ethan, always the protector, was the first to check in on his father, ensuring Aaron was comfortable and that everything he needed was within reach. Gabriel, with his infectious smile, made it his mission to keep the mood light, joking and teasing in a way that only he could. Isabella, the nurturing one, was always by Aaron’s side, offering a gentle hand or a reassuring word whenever she sensed her father needed it.

Aaron’s body had continued to develop over the past few weeks, his belly now a large, rounded bump that dominated his figure. His buttocks had grown rounder and thicker. Each movement was deliberate, his body adjusting to the weight and pressure of carrying twins at his age. The strain on his back was more evident, but the love and support of his family helped ease the physical discomfort.

The triplets were attentive to Aaron’s needs, always nearby to help with anything he required. They took turns rubbing his back, fetching him water, and ensuring he had a comfortable place to rest. The house was abuzz with preparations for the twins' arrival. Together, they set up the nursery, painted the walls, and arranged the tiny clothes in neat piles. It was a family effort, each member contributing in their own way, and the bond between them grew stronger with every task they completed.

One afternoon, as the family gathered in the living room, Aaron sat back in his chair, his hands resting on his belly. The babies inside him were particularly active, their movements strong and frequent. He couldn’t help but smile as he felt their kicks, a constant reminder of the life growing within him.

“Dad, are they kicking?” Isabella asked, her eyes lighting up with excitement.

Aaron nodded, his smile widening. “They are. Come feel.”

Isabella, followed by Ethan and Gabriel, placed their hands on Aaron’s belly, their faces filled with awe as they felt the movements beneath their fingers.

“They’re really going at it,” Ethan remarked, a chuckle in his voice.

Gabriel grinned, his hand still on Aaron’s belly. “They’re probably excited to meet us.”

Aaron laughed softly, the sound filled with love. “I’m sure they are. And they’re going to love having you all as siblings.”

The triplets spent the rest of the afternoon doting on their father, their presence a constant source of comfort and joy. Aaron marveled at how much they had grown, how responsible and caring they had become. It filled him with a deep sense of pride and gratitude, knowing that the love he had poured into raising them was now being reflected back to him.

As the baby shower approached, the house became even more lively. Family members from near and far arrived, filling the home with laughter and conversation. Aaron’s parents, now in their seventies, were among the first to arrive. His mother, Sarah, still as vibrant as ever, immediately embraced her son, her eyes filled with pride and love.

“Oh, Aaron, look at you,” she exclaimed, her hands resting on his belly. “You’re as beautiful as ever.”

Aaron smiled, his heart swelling with emotion. “Thank you, Mom. It’s so good to have you here.”

His father, Thomas, gave him a firm handshake, his eyes soft with affection. “You’re doing well, son. I’m proud of you.”

Aaron’s younger brother, Jake, followed, his youthful energy filling the room as he greeted his brother with a playful hug. “You’ve got quite the belly there, Aaron. How are you feeling?”

Aaron laughed, his hand instinctively rubbing his stomach. “Huge, but good. I’m glad you’re here.”

The baby shower was a beautiful celebration of family and love. The house was decorated with soft colors and delicate flowers, the scent of fresh blooms mingling with the sounds of laughter and conversation. The triplets had done an excellent job organizing the event, and it was clear that everyone was overjoyed to be there.

Aaron found himself surrounded by loved ones, each taking a moment to feel his belly, to marvel at the life growing within him. There was a moment when he found himself alone in a quiet corner of the house, away from the bustle of the party. He placed both hands on his belly, feeling the strong movements of the twins. His thoughts drifted to David, the man who had made all of this possible.

“Thank you, David,” Aaron whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “For everything.”

Lucas found him and leaned down, pressing a deep kiss to his belly, a gesture of love and gratitude for the life within him. As he straightened up, he couldn’t resist giving Aaron’s big butt a small pat, the movement ricocheting slightly as Lucas made a suggestive wink. Aaron smiled, soaking in this quiet moment of joy in the midst of all the celebration.

One afternoon, Aaron found himself alone in the house, the quietness surrounding him as he gently cradled his heavily pregnant belly. The twins were active, their movements a comforting reminder of the life growing within him. As he absentmindedly stroked his rounded abdomen, his thoughts began to drift, carried back to memories of David.

He felt a deep contentment in his life with Lucas—a love that had brought him peace and joy. Yet, even in the midst of this happiness, his love for David lingered, forever etched into his heart. David had been his first love, the man who had made him a father for the first time, the one who had welcomed him into a family when he felt lost and alone. David had given him a sense of belonging, a place where he had finally felt at home. Now, in a way, Aaron realized he had taken on the role David once held—the head of a growing family, bringing everyone together. The thought made him smile.

But as his hands cupped the weight of his belly, the memories of when it was David’s babies growing inside him came rushing back. Those were the happiest moments of his life, a time when their love had been new and their family just beginning. The joy of carrying David’s children had been profound, a bond that connected them in a way that was unbreakable, even after David’s passing.

Now, as he built a new life with Lucas, growing another family, Aaron couldn’t help but feel a pang of guilt. He didn’t want to betray David’s memory or the love they had shared. The thought weighed heavily on his heart, despite the beauty and rightness of what he had found with Lucas.

It was Michael, David’s son, who provided the reassurance Aaron desperately needed. Michael, who had once been skeptical and even resentful when David first brought Aaron home to meet the family, had grown to care deeply for him. Initially wary of a man his age marrying and having children with his father, Michael had come to understand the depth of their love.

One evening, sensing Aaron’s unease, Michael sat down with him, speaking from the heart. “Aaron, my dad loved you more than anything. You made him happier than I ever saw him. He would want nothing more than for you to be happy, too. And as for this pregnancy,” Michael said, placing a hand gently on Aaron’s belly, “he would be overjoyed that you’ve found someone who can share this with you, who loves you as much as he did.”

Michael’s words were like a balm to Aaron’s troubled heart, soothing the guilt that had been gnawing at him. The approval and reassurance from Michael meant the world to him—it was exactly what he needed to hear.

Aaron smiled, feeling a deep sense of peace wash over him. The love he had found with Lucas and the family they were building together was beautiful and right. And while David’s memory would always be cherished, Aaron knew that moving forward didn’t mean leaving the past behind—it meant carrying it with him, in a way that honored the love they had shared. In that moment, Aaron felt whole, his heart at ease as he looked forward to the future with Lucas, knowing that David’s blessing was with him, now and always.

Part 5

The Aaron Trilogy: Aaron & David I ; Aaron & David II ; Aaron & Lucas

[trashmouth-richie]

If you could make Eddie x Fem!Reader where Eddie makes reader say this, I would be your best friend. Oh, wait, I already am hahahahaha pls write it

xoxoxo @munson-blurbs 💚

*part 2*

eddie x female! reader

W.C 2.3k

Warning: no minors, p in v unprotected sex, oral f receiving—mentioned m receiving, corruption kink if you squint

The itchy pink tufts of your dress are bunched up to your waist, matching pastel heels are hanging on for dear life. The dainty baby’s breath in your corsage was smashed and wilting. The ribbon surrounding the rose was now bowless and hanging on by threads. The once white petals of the delicate rose your boyfriend and his mother had picked out were now brown and tattered, petals falling loosely on the stained floor of the girls bathroom. Hours had been spent on your perfect hairdo, curls falling heavily down your back and pinned on one side, showcasing the slope of your pretty neck and the gentle dangle of your dainty necklace.

“I—mmm—fuck, oh my god…”

“I—mmm—fuck, oh my god…”

Nobody had any idea, no idea about your affair with Eddie Munson. A secret between lovers. Classified information. You were faithful to him, and he was to you. But your poor boyfriend— you couldn’t say the same.

Eddie was everything your boyfriend was not. Rough around the edges but incredibly charming, a gentle lover when you needed and a rough brat tamer when you were being a bitch on purpose. No girl at school was any the wiser of the absolute hog he had behind the black denim. Felt like you were being split in half every single time. Your boyfriend was a safe option; someone to bring home to mom and dad, Christmas at the cabin, or the annual church picnic. To him you were pristine, all holy and white with a satin veil and a promise to him to save your virginity until marriage. He was naive to your vixen ways, truly going to the dark side when you and Eddie had first gotten together. That first night Eddie had called it how he saw it, a wolf in sheep’s clothing.

Your boyfriend was delighted when he saw his initial carved into a pretty necklace around your neck, white gold and close to your heart, where he intended to stay. It was of sheer mockery that his initials were also ‘E’. And when Eddie had given you the necklace, branding you as his, promising that you would forever be his, he couldn’t help but smirk and roll a chuckle out of his throat when he overheard poor Ethan noticing the necklace in the cafeteria and kissing your cheek in admiration. That night he had parked his van outside of Ethan’s perfectly poised and polished house, stuffed up next to the Harrington’s, and ate your pussy for hours in the back, making you come again and again until you were red, raw and achy, voice hoarse from yelling out his name as you only wore the necklace.

For Eddie, this situation started off by simply enjoying making the preacher's daughter squirm under his tongue in the church parking lot. Reveling in the fact that you had fallen from grace—for him. The town satanist. And he had to admit, the fact that you had a boyfriend who didn’t know you the way he did, made this all the better. It was innocent at first, a friendly gesture by you helping Eddie to study for Ms. O’Donnell’s class. A literal charity case helping the poor Munson boy pass. Whether that was to ensure he would never taint the halls of Hawkins High again, or to be a “good Christian” he didn’t care, he wanted to corrupt you, wanted to make your pretty little mouth murmur around his cock as you kneeled before him. But now it was much more than that.

You had changed, you weren’t the pretty little church girl anymore, you were his. Your parents had no idea that you sat on his guitar amps on Tuesday nights at the Hideout, grinding your pussy with the vibrations, getting yourself off watching him sing and play his guitar. Or that you had gotten higher than a kite with Eddie in his trailer after church every Sunday as your father kissed babies and shook farmers hands praying for rain this Spring and your mother served cake and coffee in the church hall. He just had to play along until graduation— when you would finally tell your parents to get bent and break up with the human purity ring.

Tonight wasn’t any different. Except it was the senior prom. Pressed cheek to cheek for Polaroids and the special ‘kodak moment’ with Ethan you ran the conversation you had with Eddie in your head a million times. “Do you want me to go?” He had you pinned down on his mattress, chest flush with the hideous patterned sheets, hands in cuffs straight ahead of you threaded in the rails of the headboard, ass angled upward as he pounded into your soft weeping pussy, “if you want me there baby, I’ll go, I’ll rent a fucking tux and be the suavest mother fucker there.”

You had already declined his offer, knowing you had already matched your dress with Ethan’s bow tie. “Eddie,” you protested and moaned as his dick curved into your g spot, “I’m going with E-,” he fucks into you harder, spreading his hatred through his entire body for when you spilled that disgusting name while he was inside you, “—him. I c-can’t. I want you to go— I’d rather have you come.. oh fuck.. I’m gonna come—” he wiggled his fingers beneath you and rubbed at your clit as he thrusted his dick into you, slamming hard against you as you unraveled at the seams for him.

It wasn’t until you were laying naked in his arms after he made you come a 4th time that night that he spoke of it again, “can I show up to the Grand March—watch you try not to tumble in some ridiculous heels in front of the whole town?” You had agreed to that. You wanted Eddie there, you wanted him to take you to your stupid prom, and be done with the bullshit. Wanted to be done with Ethan. But you were stunned when you didn’t see him anywhere. Not in the crowd, not holding up a door frame with a cigarette dangling from his mouth, he was nowhere.

So you did what any other normal senior girl did at a prom, you danced, drank cheap punch, did the goddamn limbo. But when it was time to announce the King and Queen of 1986 Prom Extravaganza, a hand over your mouth and a slight drag of your hips pulled you off the dance floor and into the girls bathroom. Of course it was Eddie. He was wearing an expensive looking black velvet suit jacket and black slacks, a deep red button up shirt underneath, two silver chains adorned his neck, one with the smallest of your initials engraved on the side, and his signature black boots and rings. “Eddie? I thought you were only coming to Grand March— I looked but couldn’t find you.” His eyes rake over your body taking you in, the swell of your chest prominent in the sweetheart neckline of your pastel bubblegum dress, cinching at the waist and poofing out indefinitely like you were a true Disney Princess.

He was right, he was the suavest looking mother fucker at the prom, his long hair was freshly washed, curls still slightly damp and bouncing around his face. “You really think I’d miss seeing my girl all fancy and gussied up just so her boyfriend can masturbate and cry to the thought of what her boobs looks like?” he tuts, running a ringed hand along your chin, fingers dancing along your neck and the necklace he gave you. “That idiot wouldn’t know the first thing about how to make you come, how to make you feel good, I bet he doesn’t even know that you wear turtlenecks only because your neck is so hickied up by me that you look like your neck is broken.” His eyes are blown wide with rage and lust as he lowers his head, fringe of his bangs tickling your nose as he dives into your neck, lips plump beneath your ear, “his pure little saint and my devilish vixen, are the same girl and he has no fuck-ing clue.”

He lifts you up and hauls you into the nearest stall, kissing you deeply as you clung onto his neck. In seconds you are consumed by him, his mouth devouring every inch of your skin. Brushing your lips with his as he works on the many layers of your dress, hiking them up to find your pretty panties. He rips them off and gives them a good sniff before stuffing them into his jacket pocket. He kneels before you and spits harshly into your pussy, rubbing the saliva around with the pad of his thumb, circling your clit as your hands are buried in his hair, head thrown against the painted blue metal of the bathroom stall. He stands quickly and unzips his pants pooling them down around his feet. He hikes one of your legs around to sit on the toilet paper holder as he slots his cock between your folds, rubbing your slick and his spit against his girthy length.

And now for your Hawkins High 1986 Prom King!

The wavering sounds of the asshole behind the microphone crane into the stall of the bathrooms. Eddie shoves his fat cock up into your tight dripping hole, not giving you time to adjust as his mouth falls slack and his eyes roll back into his skull like billiard balls rolling into the correct pocket. “Fuck, swear this pussy gets tighter and tighter each time, Jesus Christ sweetheart.” Your fingers grip into the velvet of his suit as he pushes all the way into you, steadily moving his hips and grazing over that spongey spot, perfect ruddy tip of his cock poking and prodding as it feels like your guts will explode.

You whimper as he stretches your walls, the pressure of his cock filling you up making you cry out as he pumps relentlessly into you. “Mmm, fuck, I— oh my god.”

“What did you say baby?” Eddie smirks as his head is buried into your neck, sucking a wine colored bruise into your skin. He loves the way he can fuck you senseless, breaking you down to mush as you scream his name. Think your stupid boyfriend could do that? Try again.

“S—so good Eddie.” You’re already a blubbering mess, mascara spilling from your lashes as tears trickle down your face, the bliss of Eddie’s hips rocking into you sends you spiraling. Your belly- coiling and hot, ready to come undone.

“Fuck baby, you’re so fucking perfect,” Eddie is the one whining now has his hips start to stutter, bangs stuck to his forehead as he licks his lips, “my perfect girl, secret vixen all for me.” He pumps harder now, hand pressing against your neck, the bottom of the ‘E’ from your necklace poking out beneath the heel of his hand. “Tell me you’re mine baby, fuck— tell me, tell me you’ll end it with him.”

“I— ”

For you it should have been a no brainer. He let it slip one night when your parents went out of town for the weekend. You told Ethan you had gone with them, relishing in two whole nights with Eddie all to yourself in the comfort of your own home. You were riding him in the living room, skin slick with sweat, both of you stark naked as you looked deep into his dark chocolate eyes. You rolled your hips around him, foreheads pressed together as you moaned into eachothers mouths. “Fuck, I love you,” Eddie breathed as you had both finished, shuttering around eachother as you fell forward into his chest. Pulling back and staring at him quizzically he continued,

“I mean it, you’re it for me babe.” You hadn’t said it back yet, still gathering your feelings for him, trying to decide what you were going to do.

Your fingernails dig at his chest, legs now wrapped around his lower back as he leans you against the wall. The heat of Eddie’s breath against your ear is what makes your orgasm snap. He rubs and slaps at your clit as you come.

Ladies and gentleman, it’s time to name the Hawkins High 1986 Prom Queen!

Your first and last name is blasted through the speakers of the gymnasium, filling up the echoing halls as you come hard on Eddie’s dick, “it’s over! mmm fuck— Eddie! Fuck— I’ll end it!” Eddie’s high hits him as your words flutter through his mind, ropes of hot cum spill into you and down your legs as relief washes over him. Your name is said again over the speakers.

Eddie lowers you to the ground, and zips up his slacks. He kisses you deeply before you break away, “I love you.” You confess to him, holding his face in your hands. He smiles shyly, wrapping you into his arms as he kisses your head, squeezing you tight.

“Come on,” he says, pulling you by the hand to the gymnasium smiling wildly, “go get your crown, and then we can leave.”

Eddie watches as the twinkling tiara is placed on your freshly fucked hair. The emcee announces you and captain douche Ethan as the 1986 King & Queen of Hawkins High. A dance is supposed to commence between the two royalties but you bail as you kick off your heels and run into Eddie’s arms. Both of you displaying middle fingers as a parting “fuck you”, he carries you out of the side door of the gym to his van. You spend the rest of the night wearing your crown as Eddie teases your clit with his tongue, reveling in the pretty noises rolling of your lips, his Queen.

[awigglycultist]

Reasons you should watch Nightmare Time season 2 (spoilers for nmts2 ofc)

- Lore so much lore

- Nibbly

- Linda

- Gerlad

- the Monroe boys

- Linda's father

- Zoey

- evil people being evil and fucked up and also getting what they deserve but it's still sad

- Emma

- Ziggy

- Jae Hughes

- Joey plays a weird evil funny bird and it's great

- pot

- this where we actually met Grace, Pete & Steph for the first time

- Jon and Kim play a feral characters

- Lautski

- Nick plays Pete

- Frank, but you'll feel bad for him and not hate him

- once again several evil women this season

- a story is titled "Daddy" what more do you want

- MILF

- the black book

- once again the best two characters ever

- fun punk rock bank

- Bryce Charles

- doomed by the narrative

- angst so much angst

- Lex, Hannah and Ethan

- Joey plays Ethan

- There's more kids with a gift like Hannah

[everythingwasalreadypicked]

Cw: mentioned attempted execution, unhealthy relationships, branding and mentioned someone's arm getting cut off

Jason Grace is fifteen when he didn’t mean to join Saturn.

Well, Kronos too, apparently. Because Octavian was right, have always been right about the Greeks' existence and Jason have been lied to for months.

Jason Grace is fifteen, dating Saturn's general of all people and didn’t mean to betray his camp.

It was an accident, a photo that was not supposed to be found.

Everything from being called to the Principia and his arrest to almost getting executed and finding himself on Othrys has been a blur.

He doesn't remember shooting lightning at his preator like Alabaster have said he did.

He doesn't remember ever agreeing to swear fealty to Saturn.

Jason Grace is fifteen, with twelve lines of service and the symbol of the camp and father he let down on his arm, and a newly burnt scythe covering his back.

Funny, he thinks, as he sobs and writhes on the floor of Saturn's throne room while the son of Hecate murmurs sweet nothings with victory on his tongue.

His other brand never hurt this much.

Saturn's demigods greet him with barely hidden apprehension and hands on their weapons when his boyfriend sweeps him from wing to wing, showing off Jason to everyone they come across.

The black walls are ever shifting like a maze, closing on its residents, air filled with plant participles and glittering monster dust, threatening to choke out everyone daring to go against the Titan.

"Does it hurt?" Alabaster hums on the first day after Jason fully decorates his room near the general's.

He can only nod, leaning into the hand slathering nectar onto his back. It's warm, far far too warm and yet freezing cold at the same time.

"It's okay," His boyfriend wraps himself around Jason, pulling him into a hug and throwing them onto the bed, "I got you."

He already feels suffocated.

"I pity you," Ethan Nakamura says once, "I wouldn't wish having Alabaster's full attention on my worst enemy."

"Why?" Jason asks, the hamburger with the strangely red and sunny meat forgotten.

"Because," the lieutenant moves to greet his witch friend across the cafeteria, always so matter of fact, "I know him better than you'll ever do."

Jason doesn't think Ethan likes him very much. The feeling is mutual.

Though, at least he can trust him to be the perhaps only one in this damn palace to not follow Saturn's orders blindly.

Jason is fifteen when he learns of Perseus Jackson's existence and Satu–Kronos's plans for the other boy's 16th.

It will not matter if his old camp sieges Othrys and topples the throne, not when Saturn's forces will be attacking the defenseless Olympus.

The loyal soldier inside himself screams, begging him to do his duty and protect his gods, be their weapon. He needs to warn someone.

Reyna would understand. They have been friends. Once. Hopefully will be again after all of this is over.

Ironically, it was Alabaster who had taught him about Iris messages. The messenger of the gods and their children, he have explained with his tell-tale melodic tongue, we use her sister, Arke, the banished one.

Jason is no traitor. He has no need for the Titans's messenger.

Ethan catches him before Jason can even explain himself properly to Reyna. In hindsight, he should count himself lucky that Ethan loves Alabaster too much to snitch on Jason to Kronos.

That doesn't stop him from telling Alabaster. Jason would rather face the Titans's wrath than face the fury of his now ex-boyfriend's and the betrayal in his eyes.

Jason Grace is fifteen, with a scythe branded on his back.

There are no lines of service, gone with the half of his right arm.

Thalia Grace is eternally a day shy from sixteen when she sees her baby brother again for the first time in years.

Just across the battlefield, shooting white hot lightning at campers with the rage of a constantly prodded and provoked animal, a strophalos necklace hanging off his throat like a collar.

Ta Jason au (art art dialogue ficlet phoenix's-ficlets)

[https-harlow]

Single Hearts - Part 1 Amusement Park

Summary- While taking her daughter to the amusement park for her birthday, Sage meets Jack for the first time.

Jack had gotten engaged to his high school sweetheart, Penelope, right out of high school, getting married about a year later. They even had their daughter, Melody Jade Harlow, a year and a half later. Everything was perfect. Ultimately, throughout the stress of Jack’s career, raising their daughter, and just life in general, they decided they were better off as friends. Nothing specific happened they just slowly realized they didn’t love each other as much as they previously did. 

Penelope and Jack were terrific coparents. They both were committed to doing what was best for their daughter and they both wanted to spend as much time with her as possible. Of course, that wasn’t always possible for Jack due to traveling for work, and now that his daughter was seven years old and in school, Penelope and Melody couldn’t just fly out to visit him whenever they wanted. Penelope did it as much as possible so that Jack and Melody could see each other as much as their schedules allowed.

Sage, on the other hand, was parenting her five-year-old daughter, Charlotte Grace Taylor, completely alone. She had also thought she had met the love of her life, and for a short time, she did. Unfortunately, her ex-boyfriend didn’t feel the same way. Ethan cheated on Sage right after they found out she was pregnant. Before Charlotte was born, Ethan decided he wasn’t ready to be a father and left. He hadn’t even met his daughter when she was born, even though Sage told him when she was in labor and when Charlotte was officially born.

Sage had sole custody of Charlotte, Ethan didn’t show up to the hospital, and he never signed the birth certificate, withdrawing his legal rights. Sure, Sage would have preferred her daughter to have an involved father or at the bare minimum, child support, but she would rather Ethan be completely uninvolved than in and out of her daughter's life. 

It was difficult for Sage to raise her daughter on her own, but the support of her friends and family made it easier. 

Sage was taking Charlotte to the local amusement park for the day, a late birthday celebration for Charlotte's fifth birthday. Between the start of the school year and the weather, it had to be pushed a couple of weekends. As a compromise Sage let Charlotte eat a little more candy and sugar than usual, which meant she was practically bouncing off the walls. Charlotte saw the carousel and took off towards it.

Jack, who had also decided to take his daughter to the amusement park the same day, happened to be getting in line for the ride at the same time. Charlotte tried to get in line before Jack and Melody did.

“Charlotte.” Sage called out, quickly following after her daughter. “You have to wait for me.” She reminded her. By the time she approached, even though it had only been a couple of seconds, Jack and Sage were separated by a few groups of people so she couldn’t apologize to him for her daughter trying to run in front of them.

Sage and Charlotte got into line, Sage holding onto her hand before she could even think about trying to run to the front of the line. Luckily for Charlotte, the line was short so it wasn’t long before she was on the ride. 

Jack got Melody comfortable on the ride before stepping behind the gated area to watch. A few spots back, Sage was helping Charlotte fasten herself to the carousel horse. 

“I want to go by myself,” Charlotte said and Sage sighed softly.

“Okay, can you get down by yourself?” Sage asked and Charlotte nodded. “Just let me know if you need help and I’ll come to help you, okay?” Charlotte nodded eagerly, excited to ride on her first amusement park ride by herself. Even if it was just a carousel. 

Sage walked off the platform and out of the gate, she happened to see the same curly-haired man that her daughter had run in front of. Sage approached him.

“Hi, I’m so sorry about my daughter almost cutting in line. We’re still working on waiting our turn, and apparently, that doesn’t mix with having too much candy.” Sage joked, Jack properly looked at Sage for the first time, and something about her drew him to her. Jack was incredibly nervous, which was unlike him, he hadn’t felt that way since he was with Penelope.

“It’s completely okay. You don’t have to apologize, I’ve been there and I understand.” Jack brushed it off. “She’s yours?” Jack asked and Sage nodded. Since she had Charlotte fairly young, and Charlotte had almost looked like an exact copy of her Dad, minus their matching blonde hair, she was used to people assuming she was a babysitter or older sister.

“Yeah, I know it’s hard to believe because she looks so much like her Dad, but she does have 50 percent of my DNA,” Sage joked, Jack couldn’t help but let out a small laugh, though his eyes showed a small hint of disappointment. “But I’ve been in my single mom era since she was born, all this work, and all we share is the same hair color.” She laughed light-heartedly, hoping her humor was understood. Luckily Jack laughed at her joke.

“Are you from around here?” Jack asked Sage.

“Yeah, well, I grew up in Nashville, but I moved to Louisville after I had my daughter. My family had moved up here but I stayed behind until then.” Sage explained as they glanced towards their daughters on the ride. “Sorry, you didn’t ask for a life story, I don’t know why I’m giving you one,” Sage said, laughing and Jack shook his head. 

“I don’t mind,” Jack reassured her.

“So I take it you’re from here? Most people don’t ask that unless they are from the area themselves.” Sage teased.

“Yeah, I did grow up here, so you’re right.” Jack laughed. “Are you two celebrating something or just here for fun?” Jack asked.

“It was her fifth birthday a few weeks ago, she wanted to come here on her birthday, but we couldn’t, so hence the extra candy for celebration. What about you two? Assuming you aren’t here with someone else.” Sage asked.

“Just for fun. I’m out of town for work a lot so every time I’m in town I make sure to do something extra fun with her. This time her pick was the amusement park.” Jack explained.

“Oh, what do you do for work?” Sage asked. Jack didn’t want to tell Sage he was a rapper. He liked her, even just from their brief meeting, and he didn’t want her to make any assumptions about him before she got to know him.

“I’m in the music industry,” Jack said, not going into further detail and Sage didn’t push it.

Charlotte ran toward Sage and Melody ran towards Jack.

“Mommy! Let’s go on the next ride, that was so fun!!” Charlotte yelled excitedly, grabbing her mother’s hand and pulling her towards the next ride.

“Bye, it was nice to meet you!” Sage said to Jack.

“Nice to meet you too!” Jack called as Sage got pulled away. “Wait, I didn’t get your name,” Jack called out but Sage was too far away to hear him. 

Jack thought about trying to catch up to her. As soon as he took a step forward, holding Melody’s hand, someone approached him.

“Oh my god! You’re Jack Harlow right?” A girl asked.

All Jack could do was watch Sage walk away as he greeted the fan who approached him, hoping they would run into each other again. Even though Jack kept his eye out for Sage the rest of the day, he didn’t see her again.

Tag list @jackharloww @harlowcomehome @nattinatalia @hoodharlow @itsyagirljaz @heavyhitterheaux @harlowsbby @awhore4moree @harlowslefttoe @twerkforambrose @jackmans-poison @ilovenudy @taniapri @killatravtramp @easternparkway @macey234 @toocriticalharlow @lightsoutstyles @rachxc13 @iknowdatsrightbih @idktbh101 @blossomluvv @middlechild404

[chieftyphoonchaos]

You have no idea the power I represent. It knows your story and how it ends

The Entity The McQtity 😂😜

Who is next after Ilsa Ethan????

Your friends Benji or Luther....

Or you daughter….???I reunite her with her mother???

If anything happens to them, there’s no place that I won’t go to kill both of you and your God.....That is written!!!

[rosyrosethings]

Prince Harry.

Word count: 4,533

Summary:Harry is a prince who goes in disguise to a new local bakery in his town. Y/n is a bakery owner who is American and has no idea about the royal family.

A little smut, slow burn, y/n is black.

The soft chime of the doorbell announced a new customer at "Daisy's Confections". Nestled in the quietest part of Albridge town, the bakery was a treasure trove of sugary delights. Freshly baked croissants, intricate pastries, and a variety of cookies lined the shelves, filling the air with a warm and comforting aroma. Everyone in town loved Y/n’s baking. Day by day her baking became more popular.

Even the Prince of Albridge heard of the amazing treats Harry who cant go out with out being noticed. He put on his baseball cap and his shades and his hoodie. He proceeded to try to leave out the palace

"Umm sir where are you going?" Ethan asked him, his bodyguard.

"I am going out alone." He said.

"Looking like a burglar? You know, can get both us in real trouble when you sneak out like that." Ethan said, his job to watch over Harry.

"Ethan I am just going into the town, I promise i will be back soon. If my grandmother or father are looking for me. Just cover for me? Please." He begged, Ethan sighed. Even though he was his bodyguard. They were friends. Ethan nodded as Harry proceeded to leave and make his way to the bakery.

Meanwhile, Behind the counter, Y/n adjusted her bun and dusted flour off her apron as she looked up to greet the newcomer. What she saw took her by surprise—a tall man in a navy-blue hoodie, sporting dark sunglasses and a baseball cap pulled low to obscure most of his face. When the skies were clear and the sun was shining. The guy looked as if he was going to rob a bank or something she thought.

"Good morning," she greeted with a bright smile, undeterred by the man's peculiar appearance. "What can I offer you today?" Her American accent clear and crisp.

The stranger cleared his throat. A bit taken back by her beauty. Her dark brown skin glowing with the hint of sunlight shining on her. Her smile radiant. "I've heard a lot about your bakery . And I wanted to know if I could try for myself." He offered, his voice soft and hesitant.

Y/n's eyes sparkled. "Of course!" She slid a fresh cookie onto a plate and passed it to him. "Enjoy!"

As the man took a bite, a sigh escaped him, his posture relaxing. "This is heavenly. Your reputation does you justice," he commented, still maintaining his hidden demeanor.

Blushing slightly at the praise, Y/n couldn't contain her curiosity. "Thank you. I'm Y/n. I haven't seen you around here before."

The man paused, seemingly pondering his response. "I'm Henry. I just moved to Aldridge for... work."

”Nice to meet you Henry,.” she said,

Despite the sunglass's criminal aesthetic Henry had going on. Their conversation flowed effortlessly—from baking to books to dreams. Y/n was drawn to Henry's mysterious charm, and he seemed equally enamored by her passion for baking.Henry became a daily visitor. He always arrived at the same time, always ordered the same cookies.

One day Inside the fragrant cocoon of the bakery's kitchen, Y/n, lost in her own world, worked meticulously on her next masterpiece. Each fold of the dough, each sprinkle of sugar, was a testament to her passion for baking. The warm glow of the kitchen lights accentuated the small puffs of flour that rose every time she kneaded the dough.

As she hummed a soft tune, the creak of the kitchen door interrupted her rhythm. Brianna, her vibrant best friend and invaluable employee, stepped in, her eyes dancing with a familiar mischief.

"Guess who's graced us with his presence again?" she teased, playfully tugging at Y/n's apron.

Pretending to ponder, Y/n smirked, "The mayor? Or perhaps the postman?"

"Very funny," Brianna laughed, "Your very own elusive admirer. Mr. Tall, Dark, and Mysterious."

Even though this had become a daily ritual, Y/n's heart still fluttered with anticipation. She hastily grabbed the closest reflective surface—a polished silver spoon—and tried to assess her appearance. "Do I have any flour on my face?"

Brianna chuckled, pulling the spoon away. "You're picture-perfect, as always. Though I'm sure he wouldn’t mind even if you did."

Y/n paused, gathering a breath before her next question, one that had been burning within her. "Bri, does it seem odd that he hasn't made a move yet? No number, no date invitation?"

Brianna leaned against the countertop, contemplating. "Y/n, every person has their pace. Maybe he's from the old school—likes to take his time, savor the moments. Besides," she winked, "anticipation can be quite... enticing."

With renewed hope, Y/n whispered, "Maybe today will be different."

"Only one way to find out." Brianna nudged her forward, propelling her toward the bakery's main floor.

As Y/n stepped out, her eyes instantly found Henry. He sat ensconced in his favorite corner, the overhead lights casting a gentle halo around him. Though his cap shadowed his eyes, Y/n felt them on her, their warmth reaching across the room.

She decided to create a special platter for him today. A medley of freshly baked cookies, each one a testament to her evolving craft, inspired in no small part by his daily visits.

Plate in hand, she approached his table, the world around them blurring into a soft haze. "Henry," she greeted, her voice holding a hint of a tremor.

His lips curled into that familiar heartwarming smile. "Y/n, your presence always makes the day brighter."

Blushing, she playfully retorted, "Smooth talker. Do you say that, for every baker in town?"

His laughter, deep and genuine, filled the room. "Only for those who've enchanted me with their culinary magic. And that list is quite... exclusive." She giggled in response.

Their conversation flowed effortlessly, the world outside forgotten. Y/n shared stories of her family, her dreams, her love for Albridge. The town held a special place in her heart, with tales passed down from her grandmother about their ancestral bakery and the magic of this place.

Henry listened intently, his gaze never wavering. Every now and then, he'd share snippets of his own life, though always maintaining a shroud of mystery around his origins and profession. They soon transitioned to talking about the Royal family.

In a whispered confession, Y/n admitted, "Dont tell anyone but I might be a bit clueless about Albridge's high society. I wouldn't recognize the prince or princess even if they walked right in."

Henry's eyes twinkled with amusement. "Your secret's safe with me."

Their intimate bubble was punctured by the intrusive ring of Henry's phone. From Y/n's vantage point, she could see the caller ID read "URGENT." The color drained slightly from Henry's face as he answered, his voice hushed yet tense.

Y/n sensed his urgency, and although her heart sank, she quickly packed his cookies. On a whim, she tucked her business card inside, scribbling her personal number on the back.

"I have to go," he murmured, regret evident in his voice.

"oh. Okay," she nodded, trying to mask her disappointment. "Hope everything's okay."

He hesitated, then leaned closer. "I promise to explain someday. But for now," he glanced at the bag, then back at her, a soft promise in his eyes, "thank you."

With that, he rushed out, leaving Y/n with a myriad of emotions and questions. She clutched the empty plate, a gentle smile playing on her lips.

//

Upon returning to the palace, Harry gingerly placed the bag of cookies on his ornate desk. His princely duties called, and it was several hours of meetings and paperwork before he could think of relaxing. As evening fell, he retreated to the solitude of his chambers, his thoughts drifting to Y/n and the time they shared.

With a sense of anticipation, he opened the bag, his eyes drawn to a little card nestled among the cookies. Confused, he picked it up and inspected it. It bore the details of Y/n’s bakery on one side, and on the flip side, scribbled in elegant handwriting, was a number. A grin slowly spread across his face, his heart inexplicably racing.

Quickly he keyed in the number on his phone, pressing it to his ear.

A muffled shriek, followed by a giggle, sounded on the other end before a familiar voice answered, "Hello?"

"Is this the enchanting Y/n?" He teased, recognizing her voice instantly.

Her playful retort came quickly, "Depends on who's asking."

Feigning seriousness, he said, "I happened upon a card with a number in my cookie bag, and I must say that's a rather forward approach, don't you think?"

She chuckled, "Well, perhaps if a certain someone took the hint and asked for my number, I wouldn't have to resort to such tactics."

Henry laughed, "Has it been that obvious that my visits are less about the cookies and more about seeing you?"

She replied with a smirk evident in her voice, "Oh, completely. You make it so obvious by insisting that only I serve you. Though I must admit, I eagerly await your visits."

He could almost visualize her blushing. Taking a deep breath, he knew what he had to do next. "Y/n," he began, his voice suddenly more serious, "Would you do me the honor of joining me for dinner tomorrow evening?"

Her response came without hesitation, "I'd love to."

//

Cloaked in the dim, romantic lighting of the restaurant, hidden from the prying world outside, Harry sat, bereft of his usual incognito accessories — no glasses, no hat. His heart thrummed a nervous beat in his chest, the absence of his familiar disguise rendering him more exposed than he'd been in a long while. "What if she doesn't see me the same way?" This fear looped incessantly in his mind, the vulnerability raw and unyielding. He was acutely aware that his royal identity held no sway with Y/n, her American roots placing her pleasantly outside the sphere of his family's fame.

The antique door hinges emitted a faint squeak, heralding her arrival. Harry's breath hitched as he pivoted to face her. Y/n was a vision — her red dress clung to her in all the right places, accentuating her graceful silhouette, the rich color gloriously offsetting her smooth, dark skin. Her hair, pulled back in a playful ponytail, featured a red ribbon that danced as she moved. It was a simple touch but one that showcased her attention to detail, her personal flair.

"Henry, you're... wow, you're so handsome," Y/n breathed out, a hint of awe lacing her tone as her gaze took him in, unshielded for the first time. The genuineness of her compliment eased the tight coil of anxiety in his chest, even if just a little.

He couldn't help but smile, the gesture reaching his eyes, bright with appreciation. "Thank you, Y/n. But tonight, you're the breathtaking one." He motioned towards her chair, their hands brushing during the process — an electric moment of contact that sent a jolt through them both.

As they settled into their seats, Y/n's curiosity bubbled to the surface. "Henry, I've always wondered... why the mystery? You have these striking features, almost like those runway models."

His laughter was a nervous flutter in the air. "Oh, thank you. I guess I value my privacy more than most," Harry admitted, the truth but not the whole truth.

She reached across the table, her hand an anchor in the sea of his uncertainties. "Well, you're downright gorgeous, Henry."

Heart pounding louder, he met her sincerity. "I feel the same about you," he whispered, the words thick with unspoken emotions.

Their connection deepened as they delved into further conversation. However, Y/n's next question caught him off-guard, "This place is quite upscale, Henry. What do you do, if you don't mind my asking?"

A pause. A rapid calculation. "I work with the royal family," he said, each word carefully weighed yet truthful within its own context.

"That's fascinating! What's your role there?" she pressed, excitement tinting her words.

"I handle their public relations," he replied swiftly, relief flooding him as he realized his answer remained within the bounds of his actual royal obligations.

Eager to steer away from the precipice of his secret, Harry shifted topics. "Y/n, you once spoke of the precise science behind your baking. What's been your greatest challenge in that regard?"

Her face transformed, the passion for her craft igniting her features. "Definitely the croquembouche. Mastering the caramel, achieving the flawless consistency... it was daunting but so rewarding to see the final structure."

Harry hung on her every word, her fervor, her dedication — it was enthralling. "You're a true artist, Y/n. Your commitment is nothing short of inspiring."

They wove through topics, from his 'studies' — a guise for his royal duties — to her culinary adventures. Laughter rang clear, opinions clashed and melded, and an unmistakable bond tethered them closer with each passing moment. Y/n's authenticity, her vivacious spirit, was a breath of fresh air in Harry's constrained, regal world.

As the evening's end drew inevitably closer, their departure loomed like a shadow, the joy of the night tinged with a hint of sorrow. Harry's heart felt heavy with unspoken truths, yet the warmth in her touch, the genuine affection in her smile, sparked a flicker of hope. Reluctantly, he escorted her to her car, each step punctuated with a silent promise to hold onto the night's magic just a little longer.

"Tonight was something out of a movie, Henry," she whispered, leaning casually yet alluringly against the driver's door, her eyes glistening under the starlit sky as she gazed up at him.

"And I, Y/n, am keenly awaiting the sequel," he replied earnestly, the depth of his emotions veiled beneath his words. He positioned his hand atop the car, his frame leaning towards her, an unspoken invitation hanging in the air.

"me too," she responded, her eyes briefly flitting to his lips, an action not missed by him. A subtle smirk graced his features; gently, he cradled her chin with his hand, drawing her in for a kiss. Their lips met, a perfect synchronization of breath and desire. As the kiss deepened, it surged with an intensity that was both thrilling and overwhelming, her arms winding around his neck, his finding a natural place around her waist.

Abruptly, Harry broke the kiss, the realization hitting him that despite the restaurant's exclusivity, they were still in a public place vulnerable to prying eyes.

"It's late; you should head home," he murmured, though the words tasted bitter, his own disappointment mirroring hers.

She gazed up at him, her eyes a mix of understanding and a hint of sadness. "Yes, you're right," she agreed softly, the reluctance evident in her voice as she slowly unwrapped her arms from his embrace.

"I promise, it's not about you," he reassured her, sensing her thoughts. His hand lingered on her waist for a moment longer before he stepped back, his lips pressing a tender kiss to her cheek. "I'm just a private person, love. But tomorrow, I'm all yours," he affirmed, opening the car door for her.

She nodded, a smile tugging at the corners of her lips, understanding yet yearning evident in her eyes. As she settled into the driver's seat, their eyes locked once more, a silent vow exchanged. With a final wave, she pulled away, and he stood there, watching the distance grow, their shared kiss a promise of what was yet to come.

//

The following day found Y/n in her bakery, the air sweet with the scent of pastries, but Henry was conspicuously absent. It was Sunday, and business hours were drawing to a close. Deciding to close up early, she sent her employees home, the clock ticking down the final ten minutes. Y/n tried to brush off the disappointment gnawing at her heart, but "a little upset" didn't begin to cover it. She felt a sting of abandonment. After a magical date, his absence felt like a stark rebuttal. Was he ghosting her? The thought nagged at her, an unwelcome lump forming in her throat.

The gentle tinkle of the entrance bell barely registered in her preoccupied mind. Without raising her eyes from the counter she was absently wiping, she called out, "I apologize, but we're closing. Please, feel free to visit us tomorrow when we—"

"But what if I'm acquainted with the owner?" a familiar voice interjected, its warm timbre instantly lifting her spirits.

Y/n's head shot up, her heart skipping a beat. There stood Henry, an apologetic smile playing on his lips. Relief washed over her, and she couldn't help but smile back.

"I was worried you'd decided to ditch me," she confessed, her voice tinged with residual concern yet a smile brightening her expression.

"Ditch you? I would never," he declared as he sauntered confidently toward her, coming around to her side of the counter. Without hesitation, he grasped the strings of her apron, tugging her gently but insistently closer, and sealed his words with a kiss.

"I've missed you immensely," he murmured against her lips, his breath warm and reassuring. "I haven't stopped thinking about you since last night, especially yearning for another kiss." He said, she pulled away slightly.

"How about we just retreat to my place and unwind with a movie?" she proposed, the corners of her mouth lifting in a hopeful smile. His response was a grin that didn't just reach his eyes but seemed to light them from within. "That sounds like an evening well spent, beautiful," he agreed warmly.

Thus, they transitioned from the day's close, with Harry lending a hand as Y/n locked up the bakery for the night. Together, they ascended the stairs to her apartment, nestled conveniently above her beloved shop. The door swung open to reveal a charming, intimately spaced two-bedroom abode, every nook a testament to Y/n's simple yet cozy taste.

Bri, her roommate, emerged from the kitchen, her attention glued to her phone screen. "Y/n, you're back earlier than I expected. I know you were upset that Henry didn't drop by today, but maybe —" Her words stumbled to a halt as her gaze flicked upwards, colliding with the sight of Y/n accompanied by an unfamiliar figure. The man's striking features were undeniably alluring, leaving Bri momentarily speechless.

"You're... you're Henry?" Bri stammered, her initial shock transitioning into a mix of surprise and immediate appreciation for his almost ethereal good looks.

"Yes, I am. It's a pleasure to meet you under more formal circumstances," Harry replied with a courteous smile. Though they'd crossed paths when he visited the shop, he'd always have on the shades, baseball cap, and a hoodie.

Flustered yet amused by the unexpected revelation, Bri quickly gathered herself. "Well, I'll just forget I was about to say anything. I’ll leave you two alone," she quipped, snatching a few snacks before darting a playful, exaggerated 'HE'S GORGEOUS!' mime to Y/n and scampering toward the sanctuary of her room.

Y/n rolled her eyes playfully, then gestured apologetically at Bri's retreating figure. "Sorry about her," she said, a sheepish grin tugging at her lips as she guided him to the living room sofa.

"Don't be. She seems wonderful," Harry reassured, his laughter a soft melody in the homely space. They settled into the couch, the familiar proximity a bubble of comfort. Y/n seized the remote, her fingers dancing over the buttons as she browsed through an extensive list of titles across various streaming platforms. Harry's gaze lingered on her, admiration evident in his eyes. Even in profile, she was a captivating canvas he couldn't draw his eyes away from.

"Alright, romance it is!" Y/n announced, her decision punctuating the comfortable silence. She selected a film known for its heartfelt narrative, the screen brightening as it played.

"You can never go wrong with a compelling love story," Harry concurred, his arm instinctively draping over her shoulders, drawing her into the curve of his side. Though she leaned into his embrace, her eyes were steadfast on the screen, a slight tension in her posture. He sensed a reticence in her, a vulnerability perhaps kindled by the day's earlier disappointments.

She was a tempest of emotions, desire mingling with the fear of rejection. So she fixated on the unfolding romance on-screen, a safe harbor in the storm of her heart — hoping the distance of her gaze would shield her from the urge to lean into the warmth of the man whose presence had become her solace.

Harry, intuitively attuned to her, couldn't help but notice the subtle rigidity in her posture, the way her eyes studiously avoided meeting his. He understood her unspoken hesitance, her internal struggle. Deciding to gently challenge the barriers she'd put up, he allowed himself a small, inward smirk before deliberately shifting his approach.

With a feathery lightness, his hand found its way to her thigh, fingertips grazing the fabric of her black leggings in a slow, reassuring rhythm. He could feel the minute stiffening of her muscles under his touch, a silent acknowledgment of the unexpected contact.

"Is this alright, love?" he inquired, his voice low, a tender undercurrent beneath the words. She offered a mute nod, her gaze obstinately fixed on the flickering images on the TV screen, though he could sense her attention fracturing.

Respecting her boundaries yet wanting to bridge the chasm that had formed between them, Harry retracted his hand from her leg. With a gentleness that belied the strength in his fingers, he guided her chin, encouraging her face to turn towards his.

"I want to see your eyes when we're speaking," he murmured, the request uttered not as a command but as a plea laced with affection. The soft intensity in his voice coaxed her to swallow her uncertainties, prompting her to offer a timid nod and finally allow her eyes to meet his.

In the sanctuary of their shared gaze, he leaned forward, diminishing the space that separated them. And when his lips finally captured hers, it wasn't just a kiss but a communion, a silent reassurance that she was heard, understood, and cherished exactly as she was. His dominance making her wetter and wetter. His hand started to make its way in between her legs. Her pussy aching for his touch since last night. His hand slid in her leggings over her panties. His fingers slid over the slit. Feeling her wetness through the thin fabric. He pulled apart from the kiss and looked at her

"You're so wet love, all this for me?" He asked, there foreheads together. Looking into each other eyes.

"Yes, I've wanted you for so long." She said, he slid her panties to the side and he inserted his fingers into her. Causing her to gasp slightly.

"Mmm so wet and tight for me baby." He said as he slid in another finger.

"Ohh fuck. He-." He cut her off with a kiss. Not wanting her to say his fake name. He moved his fingers in her going a at a steady pace. Her hand found it way to his hair slightly tugging at his curls. She was so mesmerized by his fingers. She never had a man make her cum with his hand. His other hand slid behind her back. Grabbing her by her waist pulling her into his lap. Her to his chest as he continued to finger fuck her

"I-I'm gonna c-"

"Shh baby, just let it happen. Cum all over my fingers. " he whispered in her ear. She couldn't hold it anymore. She came all over his hand. He took his hand out her pants licking his two fingers clean. "You taste good." He whispered.

"Henry, you're so dominant. I wasn't expecting that at all." She said, getting off his lap right on side. Sitting on her knees to face him.

"Why didn't you expect it?" He asked raising his brow.

"You're very proper, you always look like you come from a polo match. And you speak like a thesaurus was read to you before you went to sleep." She said looking at him.

A genuine, light-hearted chuckle escaped him, the sound sophisticated yet endearing. "I can't decipher if I should be flattered or slightly affronted by that observation," he admitted, his lips twisting in a playful grimace.

"How about we forget what i just said pick up where we left off?" She said, leaning in for a kiss.

Their lips met, a brief but charged interaction. Harry, however, pulled back sooner than she anticipated. "I’m rather spent, my love. What do you say we retire for the evening?" His proposal was tender, his British lilt prominent, as he took her hand with gentle nobility. She nodded, laying on top of him. Her head snuggled on his shoulder.

//

The following day found Y/n steering clear of the bakery, opting instead for chores and errands — perhaps partly because she needed a distraction from Henry's absence. He'd informed her he wouldn't be around, tied up with obligations to the crown. The news had left a dull ache in her chest; she was already tumbling headlong into this unexpected romance.

While she was dusting, her phone hummed with an incoming email, pulling her attention. She tapped the notification hurriedly.

"Dear Y/n,

My name is Maria, and I serve as the primary event planner for the royal family. Your bakery has garnered quite the reputation as the finest in the city. We are thrilled to extend an invitation for you to showcase your renowned baked delights at the royal banquet this coming Saturday! Kindly respond at your earliest convenience so we may finalize the particulars.

Warm regards,

Maria"

Y/n's heart practically leapt out of her chest. Fingers flying, she crafted a prompt reply, her excitement bubbling over.

Meanwhile, Harry was waging a war within himself. He was drawn to her, undeniably, yet shackled by the weight of royal expectations. He understood all too well that his family would hardly endorse his entanglement with a baker, no matter her charm. They likely had grand matrimonial designs already in the works. However, in his mind's eye, it was a future with Y/n that he envisioned.

Dinner that evening was a formal affair, as always. Henry sat rigidly between his grandmother and father, his mind drifting incessantly back to the woman who was slowly but surely captivating his heart. He barely registered the meal served by the diligent staff, offering them a distracted word of gratitude.

The conversation inevitably veered toward his marital prospects. "Harry, time isn't on your side indefinitely. You must consider marriage," his father pressed, his tone brooking no argument.

But Harry, ever the "defiant" one in royal terms, wasn’t swayed. "The kingdom doesn't require a queen by my side to thrive," he countered calmly, though he could sense his father’s growing frustration.

"The royal banquet is this Saturday," his grandmother interjected with diplomatic timing, "We've arranged for you to be seated next to Princess Emma."

Henry exhaled slowly, a respectful bow of his head acknowledging her words, though it did little to quell the rebellion simmering within him. "As you wish, Grandmother." His acquiescence was polite, devoid of enthusiasm, his thoughts adrift with visions of a certain baker and the what-ifs she brought along.

[amazingmsme]

alright- individually for any character you feel writing for- how would the citizens of Hatchetfield react to Dan accidentally confessing his love???

You know it’s a small town with nothing to do when the local youth are all obsessed with the live saga of the news anchors. They all talk about it like it’s riverdale or some shit, any time either of them touches a shoulder or stares for too long, you’ll know about it the next day at Hatchetfield High. So I’ll start with the youngsters

Hannah & Lex are oddly more invested than you’d expect, so when they heard Dan Reynolds confess his love for Donna so casually Hannah screamed & jumped up from the couch & Lex is freaking out thinking something bad happened but Hannah rewinds the tv & now they’re both screaming & saying oh my god over & over & Lex is texting Ethan to get over here RIGHT NOW! (I think the reason why they care so much about it is because they were the closest thing to a mother & father figure they had growing up)

Ethan doesn’t get the hype but he pretends to be invested for their sake

Ruth is literally hyperventilating, she’s written so many fics about them falling in love, her coffee shop au is one of the most popular in the fandom. So she’s immediately posting about it & making gifsets & brainstorming her next fic

Richie & Pete are definitely invested, but they’re just here for the memes & they dunk on Ruth with their jokes & she’s like “STOOOP!”

Grace thinks their workplace relationship is scandalous, but secretly thinks it’s sweet & romantic

Steph acts all aloof about it, but she is secretly in the fandom & unknowingly reads Ruth’s fics about it & comments her “theories” about where the story’s going next & how they actually got together, stuff like that. So she’s internally dying & her heart is about to burst

Emma is annoyed by all the attention the town gives this meaningless shit & thinks it’s stupid

Paul is very meh about it & annoyed with the hype but he’s happy for them at least

Ok but what if Mr. Davidson called off work as a holiday the next day? I’d like to think so

Bill & Charlotte are the most excited in the office, just going back & forth completely fawning over how cute it was

Ted admires Dan’s “lady skills” but keeps loudly proclaiming that he knew they were boning, it was obvious, & he can just sense that kind of chemistry. Call him Cupid, so what?

Linda will turn it into the talk of the town is seconds flat, she’s on all the Facebook mom groups

Becky is excited because it “makes the news fun again” & has always liked their chemistry & she’s such a sucker for a good love story

Tom’s like meh whatever but when Dan admitted it on tv he’s like “oh shit” & rewinds it to record it for when Becky gets home from working the night shift because she’d die if she missed this

[owlghosts9]

I find that the idea of respect is something that is brought up a lot in PJO. So I made a list of the three types I see and the characters that mostly appear with them.

Parental respect. This is the most common one, that usually has an almost blind follower feel to it. My main example of this is Annabeth’s complete devotion to Athena, giving respect only to people who Athena respects, like Zeus, and not giving any respect to people Athena disrespects, like Ares and Medusa, or to people Athena doesn’t express much of an opinion on, like Hermes. This also can apply to Clarisse doing whatever she can to impress a father who clearly doesn’t like her, or Thalia fighting in the name of a father who turned her into a tree to “save her” when he could have truly saved her life. But I think the clearest version of this is with Ethan Namakura and the way that he is willing to give up an eye and fight for a titan just because Camp Half-Blood didn’t respect Nemesis. He sees his sacrifice as something small if it means that he will bring that respect to both his and his mother’s name.  

Respect by choice. This is something that is a very defining trait for Percy, especially in the TV show, and it is one of the main parallels he has with Luke. Percy chooses who he wants to give his respect to, and he decides who deserves it and when. He chooses to disrespect Zeus, Ares, and Poseidon, at least until his father earns it. He chooses to respect Medusa, despite the rivalry between her and Poseidon, in a way that Annabeth can’t seem to understand with her black-and-white sight of the world. This is where Luke comes in, because he too had Percy’s view of the gods, giving respect to only those he thought deserved it. He didn’t give any to Hermes, who abandoned his son and his son’s mother, and didn’t answer his “favourite child” when he called. He didn’t give any to Zeus, who rather than saving Luke’s first friend’s life, turned her into a tree. But, in a way, Luke also had Annabeth’s black-and-white thought process, in thinking that if things weren’t good now, they must have been good then, and choosing to respect someone worse than the gods, Kronos

The third and rarest version of respect is respect for none or all. We see this mostly in two people: Jason Grace and Percy Jackson. Percy and Jason are compared a lot by the narrative, and though they are very alike, it’s this that truly shows their differences. When Percy rejected immortality, it was seen as a rejection of the gods, which in a way is true. Percy found comfort in his mortality and his demigod-ness, giving more respect to his kind and less respect to theirs. He thought the best way to solve the problem was for the gods to honor their children so no more ended up like Luke. However, Jason thinks that what the gods need is more respect, and that if they receive more of it from demigods, they will be more likely to notice and help them, in the way you pay more attention to someone who pays more attention to you

[mpregtales]

Ethan & Gabriel Part 3

By the fourth month, Gabriel’s belly had grown significantly. The small bump had turned into a noticeable curve, and it was clear to everyone around them that he was expecting.

But the most exciting change was when Gabriel felt the babies move for the first time. It was a fluttering sensation, almost like butterflies in his belly, but it was unmistakable. He was lying in bed one evening when he felt it, and he immediately reached for Ethan’s hand.

“Feel this,” Gabriel said, placing Ethan’s hand on his belly.

Ethan’s eyes widened as he felt the gentle movement beneath his hand. “Is that…?” he began, his voice filled with wonder.

“Yeah,” Gabriel replied, smiling. “They’re moving.”

From that moment on, Ethan was obsessed with feeling the babies move. He would often place his hand on Gabriel’s belly, hoping to catch a kick or a roll. It became their nightly ritual, a quiet moment of connection as they marveled at the life growing inside Gabriel.

He felt heavier, but also more connected to the life inside him. Ethan often told Gabriel how beautiful he was, how amazing it was to see him carrying their children. Every kiss felt more meaningful, as if they were celebrating not just their love, but the life they had created together.

By the fifth month, Gabriel’s pregnancy was in full bloom. His belly was now prominent and round, sticking out for the whole world to see and stretching his shirts, making it impossible to hide. As his bump grew with life inside, his thighs grew thicker and stronger, supporting the extra weight with grace.

Around this time is when Gabriel’s bubble butt really began to grow in anticipation for the birth. It filled out his pants in a way that Ethan found irresistible. Gabriel noticed the way Ethan looked at him—like he was the most beautiful person in the world—and it made him feel more confident, more at ease with the changes to his body.

Ethan couldn’t keep his hands off Gabriel’s growing belly. He loved feeling the babies move, and he often spoke to them, whispering words of love and encouragement. Gabriel found it endearing, the way Ethan had fully embraced the role of expectant father.

Ethan loved Gabriel’s new curves, the fullness of Gabriel’s hips and glutes, the way his body seemed to have been made for carrying their children. Every night, they would lie in bed together, Ethan’s hands resting on Gabriel’s belly, feeling the babies move. It was their time to connect, to dream about the future and the life they were creating together. Gabriel loved these moments, the intimacy and the love that flowed between them.

They also began preparing their home for the arrival of the twins. They painted the nursery a soft, calming color, assembled cribs, and started filling the room with baby essentials. Family and friends began sending gifts and visiting more often, excited to meet the new additions to their family.

One evening, Ethan’s parents came to visit. They hadn’t seen Gabriel in a few months, and when they saw him, their faces lit up with joy. “You look amazing,” Ethan’s mother said, pulling Gabriel into a gentle hug. “You’re glowing.”

Gabriel smiled, feeling the warmth of their support. He loved how everyone around them was just as excited as they were, how they all seemed to share in the joy of this journey.

By the sixth month, Gabriel’s body had grown even larger. His belly was now a large, round dome, stretching out in front of him. It was heavy and full, a constant reminder of the life growing inside him — that and the kicks of the twins which seemed to be constant.

Gabriel found that his movements were slower, more deliberate. He had to be careful with how he moved, how he sat down or got up. But despite the discomfort, he loved the changes to his body. He loved knowing that he was carrying their twins, that his body was doing something incredible.

Ethan was more attentive than ever. He helped Gabriel with everything—getting up, sitting down, even putting on his shoes.

And of course, Ethan was always there to satisfy all of Gabriel’s needs as his hormones raged. Their love life remained passionate, though they had to be more careful now.

As Ethan’s hands rested on Gabriel’s belly, they talked about the future, about what kind of parents they wanted to be, about how much they loved each other. Gabriel couldn’t imagine going through this journey with anyone else.

They also continued preparing for the twins’ arrival. Gabriel’s friends threw him a baby shower, where he received all sorts of gifts—from adorable baby clothes to practical items like diapers and bottles. Gabriel was overwhelmed by the love and support they received from their friends and family.

One evening, while Ethan was applying stretch mark cream to Gabriel’s growing belly, they talked about the upcoming birth. “Are you nervous?” Ethan asked, his hands gentle as he massaged the cream into Gabriel’s skin.

“A little,” Gabriel admitted. “But I know we’re ready. We’ve got everything we need, and I know you’ll be there with me every step of the way.”

Ethan smiled, leaning down to kiss Gabriel’s belly. “We’re in this together,” he said softly. “All four of us.”

Part 4

[starcanwrecked-confessions]

The way some of you talk/talked about Lex and Grace is so funny to me bc Grace is my dad's favorite character and he absolutely loved Lex's speech going off on Ethan in YJ, y'all just can't handle them like my dad can, happy fathers day

~~~