#and the older lady looked at it and was like ''what. the hell?? it is??''

[camlovesjace]

SINFUL THOUGHTS ! Jacaerys Velaryon

SUMMARY: it's been a moon and half since you´d been betrothed to Jacaerys, the perfect and responsible prince, He was everything you weren't. The rumors of your great ability to enjoy yourself were as strong as the rumors about his bastardy, and none of them were wrong. WARNING: everything you could think of

THE CASTLE WAS quiet since so long, you always thought that living on Dragonstone would´ve been boring as hell, and you were right. You missed the laugh, the noise and the spirit of the big city, but most you missed your big brother. Aegon.

You and him had been close since you were teens, at least close enough to everyone to think you two were sleeping together. It was gross but you couldn't blame them, your family had always had a long and peculiar story with their blood. Let's say you Targaryen´s keep it in the family.

But that was not what was happening between him and you, no. He had opened your mind with knowledge not many princess or ladies had, dark and valuable knowledge. Pleasure. He had said "No man shall lay your hand on you, unless you want to" and after those words he take you to a brothel.

Your desire had never been to marry and be wedded like a piece of meat, to squeeze out heirs like some child machine to a stupid fat lord twenty years older than you. Aegon gave you the choice to live your body freely with people of your liking, male and female, it didn't mattered on his eyes...and soon it didn´t mattered on yours neither.

Of course people talked about that, a lot. But you never cared, at least never enough to stop it. Not until two moons ago, when you mother the queen said you were going to marry Jacaerys Velaryon.

And you hated it.

You hated it cause it meant you freedom was about to crash down, that your life and choices were going to be under the palm of his hands.

You yelled at your mother, at your rotting father and at the whole red keep. You broke your dresses, your jewelry, everything. You were like a child doing a tantrum and you knew it. You even insulted Jacaerys, looking at him up and down and calling him kiddo, even when he was one name day older than you.

But nothing could stopped what was happening now, your inevitable marriage with your soon to be husband...

You were sitting on the couch in front of the hearth, the island was cold but all your dresses were made for show off, you mother had sent a few ones with long neck but they were all green and you hated them.

Then, in the middle of the silence, the door opened. Your betrothed walked in, eyeing the entire room looking for something or someone, he had black and red clothes, but it was more a maroon red you did noticed, the same color of the dress you were wearing too.

He looked at your and you wave on his path, almost mocking him, his jaw clenched instantly. He hates the effect you have on him. You get up and he walked towards you.

"my princess, was my mother here with you?" he asked, yet his blood was boiling on his veins.

"you're always clinging to your mother's skirt, my prince?" she mocked, Jace clenched his jaw so hard that his teeth started to hurt, he raised a hand on the air and the guards of the door leave the room.

"you know what they said? they said i was marrying a cunt" he spoke and she only smirked.

"they also said i was marrying a bastard"

those words were enough to make him storm at you, his movements were rough and swift, he pressed you against the couch you were sitting on and opened your legs, adjusting himself between your thighs. It was not a lie you had been trying to provoke him since a some days ago, desperate to feel the touch of another over your body, your own hands weren't enough.

"You had been kicking my mind with your goddamn sinful thoughts" he whispered, his mouth found your neck and it made you shiver when his tongue licked your skin, smiling you touched his neck. He had been fighting against the urge of taking what he knew was his but this had reached a point he can´t ignore anymore.

He hates those dress you use, the red dresses mostly, they were tight around your waist and chest, pressing your breast almost like you were showing off yourself, and god´s he absolutely hates your dresses that has no shoulders, exposing your collarbone and your thin long neck, almost asking him to press his lips all over your pale skin, it was driving him mad.

He moved his hands under your dress, pressing you down against the couch and making you gasp, his head entered into the fabric and you smiled, knowing what he will do. Then his tongue moved around your cunt, making you moan loudly at the feeling, you´d missed this.

He sucked on your womanhood almost with a hunger of a hundred men, soon you felt his slender fingers pushing inside, his fingertip caressing your walls and making you whimper and curse. You have felt many wonderful hands but you never expected Jacaerys to have a pair of those, suddenly the idea of being his wife didn't sounded so fatal. Then he pressed two fingers into your core.

Your moaning became louder, your breathing started to fail as you became closer to your release, his goddamn tongue assaulting your clit, moving in circles and up and down, you were already seeing stars but then three of his fingers fucked you, his fingers curving and his thumb rolling your swollen pearl.

His mouth moved to yours, kissing you desperately while his right hand keep working on your pleasure, he made you taste yourself on his tongue, the sweetness of your cunt on his lips made you shiver, your hips moved up and down, riding his fingers with a blind need.

"Yeah, like that...come on, baby, fuck my fingers" he whispers and it made you smile, moving more quickly, he also pressed his fingers in and out, finding your movements in a delicious way that made you come undone around his fingers almost instantly. Your cheeks were pink and hot, his free hand held you by the throat while his fingers moved slowly, making you cry out his name in soft whispers as you swim in the waves of the pleasure.

His face fell on the crook of your neck but you already wanted another round, this time riding his cock and not just his fingers.

"Maybe being your lady wife will be more fun that what i thought" you said, and he chuckle.

dt: @nebulamorada

[orphicdreamers-wp]

Mustang Or Me — Jack Hughes

Summary; you and Jack break up and you head back home.

Content Warnings; angst, breakup, based on ‘mustang or me’ by megan moroney

I packed up my two-door Ford. He don’t love me anymore.

You stare at Jack defeatedly as you stood in the kitchen of your shared apartment , “So you just don’t love me anymore? After 2 and a half years of this you just stop?” Jack looked at you with a sad look on his face, “I’m sorry. God you don’t know how sorry I am.” You shook your head, “Don’t worry about it Jack. I’m gonna pack my stuff and drive back to Pittsburgh.”

Within an hour and a half the past two years of your life were packed up in a boxes in your old beat down mustang. You smiled sadly as you hugged Luke warmly, “Call me man. I’m gonna miss you.” Luke nodded as he hugged you, “I really wanted you to be my sister.” You hugged him back as you stayed silent. You got in your car and dialed your moms phone number, “Hi mommy. Yeah. I’m okay. I’m just coming home. For good. Okay.”

I cursed his name down 65. Need new brakes and new tires. Hell I’m tired.

You groaned as your car drifted slightly into the right lane of the road, “Damn it Jack!” You smacked the steering wheel as you forced the wheel straight. Jack had been on your ass about getting new tires, kept saying it was dangerous that your car drifted because of the cars. You knew he was right but you were too stubborn to listen to him, and you were currently wishing you did.

You also needed new brakes and you had been meaning to get them changed. You had just been so tired lately. You hated fighting with Jack because it made you just so drained and tired. You were just tired of it all. The drama, the stupid fights and feeling invalidated. You were just so tired.

Two years down the drain, two hundred thousand on the gauge.

You sighed as you continued your drive out of Jersey. The ‘Welcome To Delaware’ sign felt like a slap to the face. In the two years you’d been with Jack you saw that sign a handful of times. You two had taken a handful of weekend trips to a ski lodge in upstate Delaware. Two years of your life down the drain haunted you. Almost at much as your car mileage. Two hundred and fifty thousand miles. You shook your head as you were left in silence of your thoughts and the cars passing you.

A broken tail light, a broken heart. How’d we even get this far.

You hadn’t realized how far you had gotten until you saw the flashing red and blue light behind you. You pulled to the side of the dark country road as a police officer approached your vehicle. The man seemed to notice you were on the brink of breaking down, “Good evening ma’am. Do you know why I stopped you?” You tan a hand over your face, “No I’m sorry. I don’t even know where I am honestly. I’m heading to Pittsburgh.” The man nodded, “ You’re in Port Royal Virgina. A little out from Fredicksburg. You have a broken taillight that’s why I pulled you over.”

You sighed sadly, “I’m sorry officer. How much is my ticket?” The officer’s face softened as he took in your current state, “Don’t worry about it. Just get to Pittsburgh safely honey.” You sighed sadly as he walked away, your chest aching like someone had yanked your heart out of your chest.

I’m fighting back tears running on E. Who’s gonna break down first? This mustang or me.

You continued your drive and groaned as you saw the gas tank was hovering on the empty line. It was inevitable that your car would break down. You just hoped it would hold out until Pittsburgh.

A stranger asked if I was okay. Laughed it off said no what gave it away? Was it the leaking oil or the loneliness on my face.

You entered some gas station in the middle of a tiny town in Virginia. You grabbed a energy drink and a bag of chips before heading to the line. An older lady in front of you frowned at your sad expression, “Honey are you okay?” You shook your head with a small laugh, “No, how could you tell?” The woman smiled softly, “You look like you haven’t slept in weeks.” You smiled sadly, “Just moving home after a breakup.” The woman smiled and hugged you softly, “I’m sorry honey.”

I thought I was gonna make it home,but I heard our song on the radio.

You shook the memory of Jack out of your head as you turned up the radio as loud as possible. You hummed along as ‘Fast Car’ by Tracy Chapman was playing. Your head was finally cleared when the song concluded and the next song played.

Who’s if gonna be? I’d put all my money on me.

You pulled your car to the shoulder of the interstate. shutting it off as sobs wracked through your body. You hadn’t cried about the relationship ending until now. You weren’t naïve in any way but you had always thought you and Jack would be together forever. You didn’t anticipate a breakup or Jack losing feelings for you.

[andromedasummer]

KNITWORLD EMPLOYEES YOU WILL SEE HEAVEN I WILL ENSURE IT

[pepi-nillo]

brain be like ladies hot brrr

[shotmrmiller]

written on phone, excuse mistakes.

ps!ghost is spent. physically exhausted. there's an ache in his lower back that he can feel up to the base of his skull. his hip flexors burn with overuse. his head pounds, an unrelenting hammering behind his eyes.

he's working too hard to keep himself in the zone when at work. his co-stars, while so breathtakingly beautiful, aren't his favorite girl. the one with the soft, quivering thighs that glisten with arousal in every video. the one with the pretty tits and even prettier pussy that somehow takes him (technically him, that toy is based on his cock) so nicely, every devastating inch.

he can feel himself thickening at just the thought of you climbing on top, nails digging into his chest as you sink onto him, watching your face through half-lidded eyes as you finally feel the real thing. would your bitten lips part as you draw a sharp gasp? would your eyes roll to the back of your head once his tip gently presses against the plug of your womb? would you let him take you over the peak with just the pad of his thumb rolling little circles over your swollen clit as you try to sit still?

the muscles in his groin tighten, his now hardened erection straining against the metal teeth of his zipper. he rearranges himself from the outside, a palm wrapping around the thick of him when he looks at his watch.

he supposes he's got enough time to squeeze in one last wank. not like he has any issues getting to his finish line, not with your pretty pussy in his mind's eye.

pulling your page up on his phone, he slowly begins to undo the button on his jeans when he notices that you posted a brand-new video. just minutes ago, back when he was still in his driveway.

he leaves an impatient trail of clothes that leads to his bedroom and lies back, head sinking into the soft pillow, his hand lazily tugging his length when—

he springs up, spine snapping straight, eyes widening but pupils narrowing as he takes in what you're wearing. you managed to get your hands on a mask, a skull balaclava to be exact. he's worn that before in older videos.

even though he can't see your face, he can finally, finally get a look at your eyes. long lashes frame them, like feathered wings, like brushstrokes from an artist's hand. your eyes reflect the bright luminescence of the ring light behind the camera, a circular glow that encircles the center of them in a perfect halo.

if he wasn't enthralled before, (which he definitely is, he'd buy you an airplane ticket to come see him in a heartbeat) he sure as hell is now. and he's even harder than before, almost painfully so. ghost leans against the wall, spreading his muscled thighs shoulder-width apart and presses play.

it starts slow, as always. your hand wraps around the base of the toy, the tips of your fingers barely touching. he takes minor pride in that. you're not a teeny thing, he's simply bigger in more ways than one. you give it a couple of pumps, spreading the lube over it when you lean forward— your pretty, perfect eyes looking straight at the camera— and with a thumb, you lift the mask up just enough to—

you spit on the toy. there's a clear glob of saliva trickling down the plastic thing, trailing a warm path down to where your hand is. the wave of heat that rushes through his body, painting his cheeks a rosy hue with embarrassment (because he's seething with jealousy over a bloody inanimate object, for fucks sake) is swallowed up by the molten rush that courses through his veins.

his usual pink tip is flushed a much deeper color as it pre-cum beads up at the slit.

"fuck, do tha' again." he rumbles quietly. "c'mon, love, do tha' again." you've even got him talking to himself, that's how crazy he is about you.

it's as if lady luck smiled upon him because you do it again. a quick drag of your hand, up down, up down, and you lick the side of it with a flattened pink tongue before spitting on the head.

perfect. you're perfect. what he wouldn't do to be there instead.

he sucks in a sharp breath through his clenched teeth when you move around until your sex is hovering over the spit-slick toy. ghost chokes out a groan, a low noise that comes from deep within his barrel chest when you begin to lower yourself onto it.

your greedy cunt swallows it whole in one smooth movement. puffy lips spread wide as it stretches to take it all, walls wrenched apart by the girth. he bets you're squeezing down on it like a vice. ghost grips himself tight, hissing at the feeling. you'd probably be tighter.

he strokes himself in sync with the pace you've set, a slow but firm rise and fall. the sounds your cunt makes is music to his ears— audible squelching, a sticky viscous note. there's a creamy froth around the widened base, slowly dripping onto the floor like pearly drops of sweetened honey and milk.

saliva pools in his mouth, enough to have to swallow.

he bets you'd taste as sweet as you look. like a ripened fig. like the warmth of amber.

another swallow.

a familiar heat begins to flare in his groin, a quiet hum beneath his flesh, tiny pinpricks on his tender nerves. the tell tale sign of his end.

"c'mon sweetheart, come with me. let me—" he bites down on his tongue, meat between his molars when his core pulses, flaring white hot. let me feel you around me. give me wha' i want, wha' i've earned.

my reward.

he hears your breath hitch, snag in your throat, and—

your eyes flutter closed, eyelashes akin to a butterfly's wings. vulnerable. delicate.

he just knows you'd look so beautiful in your surrender.

white-hot, like a star's core radiates from the inside out, a seething inferno beneath his skin, pushing outward, pushing against the threshold— a dam that holds back torrents of euphoria. a crack appears with each stroke, each tug of his cock until he exhales a quivering breath, like fallen leaves rustling in the wind.

it bursts, cascading over him. it's indescribable— pure ecstasy. sublime. it comes in bursts, pulse after pulse. warmth covers his hand, drips down his balls into his bedsheets.

he grumbles as he gets out of bed to clean himself up, making a mental note to ask his manager to email you instead.

it's high time he got his hands on you.

or yours on him.

(+ fat fucking tip, atp he's about to buy a wedding ring someone help him!!!)

[dumbandfunn]

how cowboy!rafe and spoiled!reader met

it was a usual friday night in the local bar, the few regular rowdy ranchers and the occasional couple passing through just to grab a drink for their journey. it was nothing new. not until the door swung open more aggressively than usual and low and behold you stood in your pretty white sundress, mascara stained under eyes and demanding somebody to tell you “where the hell you were.” rafe had been on high alert the minute he lay his eyes on you, telling his usual drinking crowd to shut up while he took a sip of the whiskey he had been clinging to the entire night. you looked so helpless, fragile, rambling to the bar tender who seemed to not care about anything but how low the cut on your dress was. his eyes were trailing from where you had perched yourself back to the pervy wandering heads from the countless men who had all fallen silent at the chaos you had created from nothing. “are you even listening to me,” you pout, lip still wobbling whilst you slammed a hand down against the wooden counter. “i need somebody to help me, im lost and—” you sniffle.

an older man sitting across from you had piped up with an “ain’t nobody gon’ help you in these parts little lady, not with that attitude,” and that only made you cry harder. “but i’m lost,” you huff out, your tears quick to turn to the sweetest angry pout rafe had probably ever seen as you turn to the few people who were only watching in amusement, oh how they hated pretentious city girls. rafe’s eyebrows were raised, maybe it was then, as you started to bicker with a rancher twice your size that he needed to know more about you. and why the hell a girl like you was in a place like this in the first place. you left with a pretty loud bratty scream after nobody showed any interest in helping you, the distant laughs of the scene you’d caused echoing behind you as you sniffled back your tears and kicked at the car that had put you in the unfortunate situation in the first place. it wasn’t like rafe to follow, especially after someone like you, not that he came across anyone like that much in the first place. a clearly spoiled, city princess. maybe it was just the little white dress you were wearing, maybe he was just as pervy as the rest. he just couldn’t leave a little helpless thing like you to your own devices in a place he knew too well. or maybe he just needed you the second his pants got a little tighter when you were leaning across the bar a few minutes prior.

but less than two seconds after your tantrum he was hot on your heels, waving off the whistles that followed when the doors swung behind him. “so y’need help?”

a knight in shining armour, just a minute too late, it was tantrum city now after not getting your way.

“not from any of you anymore,” you spat out, folding your arms over your chest, narrowing your eyes at the young man who took a small step closer, taking his hat off and raising both hands up in defense, “well, you didn’t choose the best place to come cryin’ for help, alright, s’all i’ll say doll.” “—so y’gonna tell me what happened or you just gon’ sit here cryin’ all night,” he mutters out. you frown up at him, clearly in a conflict about standing your ground or getting out of the hell your car had broken down in. maybe your stubbornness had gotten the better of you, how you turned your nose up at him and quickly looked away, only for a hand to land firmly on your jaw a minute later, squishing your cheeks and staring you down with those stern blue eyes. “i told you this not the place to come cryin’ for help, s’tell me whats wrong before i go back inside and leave you here all on your own, hm? you want that?”

you shook your head almost immediately, eyes widened and lips parted. nobody had spoken to you like that in your entire life. and the way your eyebrows creased and your lip started to vibrate again, rafe knew he had you right where he wanted you. “my car broke down, can you fix it” you whisper.

“they don’t teach you manners in the city?”

you managed to squeak out a please, just as his free hand reached to brush a few stray hairs out of your face, licking his thumb and swiping the clumps of mascara from under your eyes. “now that wasn’t so hard was it doll?” and you shook your head again, nervous and chewing down on your bottom lip. he really did have you right then and there, someone who could handle your tantrums and someone who could knock the attitude from your lungs with something as simple as an eyebrow raise.

everyone was shocked to see you curled under rafe’s arm the following friday in his usual corner of the same bar, feet swinging and dazed. nobody would dare say a bad word about you again.

[losersiren]

𝒜 𝒥𝑒𝒶𝓁𝑜𝓊𝓈 𝒴𝒶𝓃𝒹𝑒𝓇𝑒!𝐿𝑜𝓇𝒹

”𝒶𝓈𝓀 𝒻𝑜𝓇 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓌𝑜𝓇𝓁𝒹, 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝐼'𝓁𝓁 𝑔𝒾𝓋𝑒 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝒾𝓉 𝓌𝒾𝓉𝒽 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓈𝓉𝒶𝓇𝓈 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝒷𝑒𝓎𝑜𝓃𝒹 𝒶𝓈 𝒶𝒸𝒸𝑒𝓈𝓈𝑜𝓇𝒾𝑒𝓈.” A continuation of my oc Ambrose, The lord N: Don't I have a gift for you, Anon! God, I had to rewrite this so many times, BUT I'M DONE!! Eat up! This is a long one! I had to watch so many gun videos (like two), which was unexpected... CW: Fem reader (she/her), acts and talks of violence (not towards the reader), implied murder, threats, guns, fluff (with the reader lol), mocking, power balance (?) Jealousy (or pettiness) Wc: 3.5k 

A shotgun sound echoes throughout the forest, followed by yet another dead Grey partridge and light crunches of leaves beneath stomping leather boots. 

“That bastard of a man! A prick! Son of a bitch! Son of an adventuress at that!” Ambrose stops in his tracks, reloading his sporting rifle with more gunpowder. Anger consumes his entire being. ”Did you hear what that bloody cocksucker Patrick said to her?” He hissed through his clenched teeth, grabbing the tiny 0.5 mm sphere lead bullet and layering it on top of some fabric. Shoving it inside the rifle barrel, “If what he said changed from the last few hundred times you’ve re-told the incident, then I have no utter clue.”  The younger male rolls his eyes, picking up the tenth bird Ambrose has slaughtered this afternoon. He ignores his younger cousin’s sarcastic quip and continues. “ ‘If you wish for a lovely evening, do not be a stranger; send me a letter, and I'll be by your side.’ I should’ve darkened his daylights when those vile words left his devil mouth.” He fixes his gun upright, pushing the first trigger, waiting for another prey to be a victim of his wrath. 

“Is she spoken for? Have you outwardly said you intend to court her?” His cousin questions, and Ambrose, in retaliation to his younger relative’s question….blushes like a young girl. Clenching his jaw, he answers, “No,” “Are you mad?!?” “I’ve attempted…but my nervousness has sabotaged me alas.” Astonished, his cousin continues, “Then you have no right to be jealous of her, you fool.” 

Bushes start rustling. Ambrose aims and squints instantly, with a pointer finger on the second trigger. A small grey rabbit appears, and immediately, it's killed straight through its skull; a soft smile appears on Ambrose’s face. “For her, I'll be whatever is needed.” 

“You are not sane.”

“Don’t be rude, Finch. This is love in its purest form. One day, you’ll understand.” The older male shrugs his shoulders.

“Now,” Ambrose reloads his gun, repeating his past actions, but this time, he looks straight into the other male’s eyes. “What do you know about Patrick Barton?” “I do not-” Ambrose cuts him off. “ Do not lie to me, young Finch…” His voice becomes lower, mocking, his aura more sinister. “You frequent more gentleman clubs than I; lord knows I hate the people and atmosphere of said clubs– Your mother grumbles enough to mine about the subject.” In goes the gunpowder: “You surround yourself with such…’ vast’ personalities from the elites to the ladies of the night.” The grey-eyed man reaches into his waistcoat for a lead bullet. “Yet you tell me– you don’t know about a mere Lord.” He scoffs.

Finch watches his older cousin's actions. Of course, he only asked to spend time with him for information regarding the apple of his eye’s new ‘suitor.’ The young man knows his current situation, the number of Grey partridge carcasses he holds because of Ambrose, and how far deep he’s in the forest, alone with his turbulent cousin. This was a warning, a show of sorts, that he could join these insignificant birds. He tries to swallow the heavy lump stuck in his throat. Ambrose was always the odd man; his smile never reached his eyes, his charm as real as a disloyal man’s ‘ I love you.’ His older cousin wasn’t above putting his hands on his own blood to get what he wanted– Ambrose’s father’s scar is evidence enough. 

“He partakes in Hell’s, frequents them more than gentleman’s clubs, a gambler of sorts. Loves it! He brags about the thrills of it and his winnings. Folks whisper that he’s a dishonourable shark. But it's not just hell establishments he attends; If there's someplace to gamble away his earnings, he's there,” Finch sputters his confession. 

“And Mills? Does he attend those as well?” “Yes,” The younger lad answers his senior instantly.

Ambrose just hums in return.

Just finishing his task, he aims for his cousin; he wears an inexpressive face, his grey eyes darkened and vacant, with no light, no soul.

“Wait, wait! I told you what you wanted!” Finch pleas. He could run, but in retrospect, how far can he go? Ambrose has a fucking rifle. He’s a good shot, no, an excellent shot. Hell! It’s borderline impossible how he always hits his targets, especially with how hard it is to aim for those things. Finch is panicking; his cousin has already pushed the first trigger. The nervous lad just accepts it; what else could he do? He closes his eyes, expecting his death to come quickly, then he hears a gunshot…

And he's fine…? Another Grey partridge falls from the sky right before him, its dead eye looking at the twenty-year-old.

Ambrose’s gun aims towards the sky. He lowers it. Then he casually approaches the stunned male, who lets out a staggered sigh, relieved he escaped death by a hair. Ambrose looks down at Finch, grabbing his shoulder and leaning in close. “Don’t ever fucking lie to me ever again, especially when the topic concerns my love.” Finch nods rapidly, shaking like a leaf. “Of course, sir, sorry.” Then, the older male releases his shoulders. “Good. Gift those birds to a peasant; perhaps they’ll make dinner with it, oh, and the rabbit, too. Say I have decided to help my community or something along those lines.” He looks at the sky. “I have a woman blessed by aphrodite to court.” His smile is bright, contrasting how he was a mere few seconds ago. He pats his younger cousin’s back and leaves the forest– The lifeless Grey partridge stares back at Finch, and he stares back.

Social calls…How dreadful. Worse is conversing with Lord Barton. He’s a bore, vulgar, and has an underlying inconsiderate, bitter personality. Having your mother as a chaperone does not make the situation any more bearable. 

 “Have you ever pondered about the future?” he inquires.

What kind of wet rag question is that? 

You put on a gentle smile. “Of course I have. Since I was a chit, I would read the local papers with my father-” He cuts you off “Children.” You look at him in confusion. “Pardon?”

The gentleman looks at you like you’re the biggest dunce in the country. “Children, how many children do you wish for? It would be sensible for us to have eight or ten,” “Hah…well…” you lift the tea cup to your mouth.

The man has no decorum…

After that fiasco, you decided to take a stroll downtown, and perhaps you’ll get a book from the local store, some new fabrics from a linen draper, or even some oils. Your pin money given to you by your parents could only cover one item... what a conundrum….

“Do tell me why the viscount’s only daughter is doing without a chaperone?” He leans against the brick wall, arms crossed, his smile beaming.

“Lord Howard, have you dropped your hunting hobby in exchange for stalking?” He chuckles. “Witty as always, but dare I disappoint? I was just strolling about my day and coincidentally saw you– Perhaps fate has decided for us to meet?” He pushes himself off the wall and offers his arm. Was it coincidence or fate…? No, it was none; it was all Ambrose, him asking your fellow lady peers about your whereabouts. Then, wandering near whatever local shops would possibly pique your interest. Memories play in his head, such as when you both were young and would rendezvous at the local forest. You would acquire many hobbies when you were younger– your mother said you would have a higher chance of obtaining a suitor with diverse skills. He would remember them and watch you in amazement when you talked about them. 

You made him feel human. You made him feel alive. His father was never a loving one; he gained the son he wanted, and his heir then wanted nothing more to do with him. The only attention Ambrose earned from The Earl was if he needed reprimanding. Every laugh that was too loud, every fork that he unitized improperly, every action, small or big, was scrutinized. His mother was a vacant husk of a woman at home and a social butterfly in the public eye; she watered herself down to being a wife and a mother. She was neither. He detested both of them and hated that damned empty feeling of his soul and heart that matched his vacated house; he felt nothing. His world was as grey as his eyes.

Till he met the colourful Viscount’s daughter– If he got kicked by a horse and lost his memory, he would still somehow remember the day you two met—the memory ingrained in his bones, body, and soul. On the way to your estate, the stately carriage was soundless and suffocating, as if the air was thick. Ambrose remembers how he bore his eyes into his obsidian-polished boots, wishing for the minutes to pass faster.  

You were a naive hoyden the first time you introduced yourself; you forgot to say his title and yours. Using his common name and giving him an oh-so-sweet genuine smile, he hadn’t ever seen such an authentic smile for him and only him—not for his parents nor his riches. Just him. Your parents scolded you while apologizing profusely for your ‘disrespect.’ Before his parents could utter something backhanded yet elegant, Ambrose smiled. He didn’t know he could do that. For the first time, the young boy speaks up; he feels this protectiveness over you. But, at the moment, Ambrose couldn't care less about his father's punishment that would soon come; the only thing that mattered was you, and soon he’d found out that it would always be you.

An airy laugh escapes you. “Do you wish for us to be caught in a scandal every time we meet?” He raises a faux, worried face and voice. “Me?!? As a future Earl, I am fulfilling my gentlemanly duties by escorting a fine young lady and keeping her from potential dangers. What’s so scandalous about that?” You take his arm. “You’re far from sane, My Lord.”

“For you, My lady? I hope so,” He says proudly with his chest out.

A comfortable silence lulls you as you look at how the sun hits the trees, people, and him. The sun's rays lighten his dark brown hair, blessing it with an orange hue and grey eyes, becoming Iridescent, more akin to a pearl.

“The latest on dit says Lord Barton has called for your company?” He inquires 

Your face grimaces at just the sound of his name. As much as you loathe the man, he is a viable suitor with good money and an excellent reputation, but a suitable suitor does not equate to a good man. “He’s…an interesting individual…” His jaw clenches. You’re not being open as he wants; you’re holding back…he hates that you might be hiding something. Not you per se but that damned rake Patrick. “He’s a rake,” he spits out, and you gaze at him. He’s uncharacteristically serious.

You smile. “He is,” Ambrose turns his head to you, returning your smile.

“Quite the feat to dissect the woman you are trying to woo as well.” The gentleman’s eyebrows furrow. “He did not,” you huff. “Oh, he did!” Ambrose stops in his tracks and mummers your name softly. “If you would only permit it, Allow me to court you,” You raise an eyebrow at the sudden question, “Pardon?” He continues, “That bastard doesn’t deserve you.” “And you do?” he chuckles. “No, but I’ll do everything you ask me to, then maybe one day I'll deserve you; you wish for dresses? I'll buy you the tailor and store. Money is far from an issue. Heavens, ask for the world, and I'll give you it with the stars and beyond as accessories.” He turns his whole body to you, his hands finding yours, his leather gloves causing a barrier between your soft ones.

He hates that 

“Ambrose…” 

“Please…only if you’ll allow me.”  The love-sick man entreated “But what about the other more suitable ladies? I’ve heard-” “I do not care for them,” He interrupts you. “Every second I was apart, I only longed for you. The only reason I kept my studies up was to be the perfect suitor equal to you.” He caresses your knuckles. The butterflies in your stomach flutter more after each word spills out of his mouth. Your relationship with Ambrose was vague at most. You couldn’t put your finger on it; every time you were in his presence, you had this comfort no one else could recreate. You were hesitant to put a label onto it, and maybe you feel this way because he was the only man you truly felt you could be yourself with. 

“If you wish to court me, you must’ve thought to ask my father for permission rather than myself.” 

“I could’ve,” He pauses, “But I'd rather ask you first; I need your permission. I am not marrying your father, am I? I need to hear you wish for me as much as I yearn for you,”  

You amuse the thought. Ambrose is a prick at times, his teasing relentless, but despite that, he’s charming, sincere, soothing, and protective. He’s a good man, indeed. 

“I’ll bite, My lord.” “Please do.” He smirked, masking his nervousness.

You slap his hand lightly, reprimanding him, “Let me continue, you brute…I’ll allow you to court me.” “Truly?” he exclaims, Astonished. “Truly,” You nod meekly. In a haste, he kisses your bare hands, each knuckle, each finger. “I’ve been blessed indeed,” his voice is as blissful as a child receiving a sugary dessert. You yank your hands away from him, flushed from his actions. “You dog, we are in the public,” you scold him. “I shall make it up to you in our next outing; I vow,” You swear you could see a wagging tale behind him. You sigh. 

The day went on, and by sundown, Ambrose had hired a post-chaise for the both of you despite your protests of you living just around the corner. He claimed he had ‘Earl-like duties to attend to’ and you were just on the route back either way. As a gentleman should, he dropped you off promptly; as he left in the carriage, away from your estate, you softly ran your fingers over your knuckles. A smile adorns your face. “What an oaf,” you whisper to yourself. A fond grin decorates Ambrose’s face, a few giggles even, but as euphoric this day was, he did have business to attend to. A certain lord has decided to make his lacklustre presence known, and Ambrose couldn’t celebrate until he exterminated said pest.

Gentleman’s clubs were boisterous, loud, and untrustworthy. The men here are just as vile as the feed that is fed to pigs. The soon-to-be-Earl disliked them and only engaged in them because he needed to build his reputation. He may be judgemental, but he isn’t an idiot. Others may regard him as a friend, but for him, he could care less for it. The males around him start to recognize Ambrose, yelling pleasantries, which he would return and shut down politely or…as politely as he could in his eyes. A booming voice reverberates against the wall of the finely furnished building, only belonging to the one and only Patrick Barton. Unconsciously, a scowl appears on the young man’s face. Ambrose knew more than he led on about Patrick; he heard whispers of Barton’s hobby in the mills, rigging the boxing matches that were bid on by elites and peasants alike. Word says he would pay one of the desperate participants to lose on purpose– word is bound to escape one day or another. It is not a sustainable income source. Yet another reason Lord Barton is not fit for you.

Ambrose walks towards the table where the bastard sits, narrowing his eyes.

Lord Barton and his goons recognize the lord approaching them. Barton speaks first: “Lord Howard! Is it a blue moon? What on earth might’ve convinced you to come out of that dreadful estate?” He laughs, arranging some snuff onto the mahogany to snort. “Perhaps it’s because you plan on courting his woman.” a nameless male inquires. “No, could it be? I don’t blame you, Ambrose; she is a fine woman, isn’t she? She is just in need of training,” another male said, joining in. “So does every woman in this country.” Another chuckle escapes the vulgar lord. 

Ambrose’s leather gloves wrinkle. His fist clenched to prevent him from beating the man in front of him into a pummel. He has a plan, the grey-eyed man repeats in his head. Then he forces a smile on his face. “On the contrary, I've decided to pick up a new gambling hobby; why not ask the man of the hour himself for advice? Or even a game or two.” Ambrose signals a servant and orders drinks for the table. The man in question gets up, slapping Ambrose on his back. “Atta boy, never let a woman come between men; let bygones be bygones, what a joyance plan! Come, come.” The night continues, and Patrick is as drunk as the rest of the men in the club; Ambrose, the gentleman he is, offers him to join his carriage in his words. 'Let’s start this newfound friendship off with a bang.' Cold water hits the once-drunken lord, and he awakens, gasping for air on the cold textured ground. ‘Where am I?’ he thinks, discombobulated, looking around and grasping his situation. The dark forest surrounds him, almost engulfing him; the trees blow along with the wind, and the creatures of the night rustle in the background. A voice comes from the shadows, luring him away from his racing thoughts, “Gunpowder is such a messy substance, but did you know a man invented a gun powered by air? What a time to be alive! How revolutionary!” Patrick looks at the man, most of his body consumed by the darkness of nightfall, the moon only making his grey eyes visible. 

“Ambrose, what the utter fuck-” “Don’t interrupt.” He says sternly. “As I was saying, a gun powered by air,” He continues. “A watchmaker of all things invented it; how preposterous! He eliminated gunpowder entirely and named this new gun  Windbüchse or, I know you only know English, so pardon me, I'll translate, wind gun.”  

“It’s far better than my hunting rifle; the tedious thing is quite a hassle to reload. But this wind gun can load much faster, 20 rounds a minute! Compared to the other, it is much quieter. It's a shame its range is far smaller.” The man standing pouts. “But all is well. The Austrian army decided to order thousands of supplies, and it’s fortunate I even got my hands on one.” Patrick squints, trying to distinguish Ambrose, and it finally sets in. In a forest he doesn’t know of, with a man who has a gun in his hand in the dead of night. Not just any man but a Lord known for his physical fitness and hunting expertise since he was a just a lad. 

Fuck

“If this is about your lady, Ambrose, you can have her! There’s no need to do this!” Patrick tries to reason with the love-sick lord, yet it's no use. The other man scoffs, “I’ve always detested men like you, greedy, hypocritical. Ready to jump boat when things get too tough for your liking– where is your backbone? Where is your spine? Your pride?” Ambrose circles the pain-filled man on the ground. “You never deserved to even be in her presence; you aren’t even entitled to breathe the same air as her,” He then spontaneously kicks Patrick's ribs, causing him to curl up on a ball, yelping. Ambrose looks down at the pathetic man. “But, I am a fair man, unlike you, so I'll give you a chance to run while I read you the note I have written in your writing announcing your hasty departure after news of your rigging in the mills comes to light, your writing was not hard to duplicate as well; who knew mother’s penmanship lessons would come in handy,” He chuckles.

 “Now run, monkey, while you still can.” He sets the trigger and then turns the spindle of his gun clockwise till a clicking sound can be heard, indicating he doesn’t need to turn it anymore. Ambrose opens the barrel, puts in an 8.5 mm bullet, and then shuts it. 

“I’m sure we can talk this out reasonably, money! I have money! Have it all; buy your woman something nice-” Patrick feels his thigh get warmer at first rather than the pulsing pain of a bullet shooting through his thigh that would soon follow shortly after. He screams.“To think you have the naivety to think I couldn’t fund my lover for generations on end,”

Ambrose rolls his eyes. “Scream louder; perhaps you’ll awaken a bear to save you,” yet again, he starts reloading his wind gun, faster at that, “I am not one to repeat himself nor give mercy. Run, rabbit.”

With adrenaline coursing through his body, Patrick runs…or well, attempts to. 

 Ambrose reaches into his waistcoat for the forged letter, clearing his voice to read it while his other hand holds his gun. Though his attention should be on the task at hand, he is utterly distracted by possible outing plans you would adore. Shall he go canoeing with you? Or a picnic? A carriage ride underneath the newly blooming cherry blossoms? Why not all three?  

Oh. how he longs to see you again.

Notes: I'm gonna be so honest, romance is the hardest thing to write for me. It's probably noticeable, forgive me (⇀‸↼‶) I had to do some research for this one, but it was a fun process learning more about Regency lingo and gun history. For my next full fic. I was thinking of a yandere! Cannibalistic 50's housewife, but idk….hehe…if you have any ideas send them to my inbox!! I'd like to say again THANK YOU FOR THE SUPPORT!!! Reading all your kind words makes my little shy heart soar (o^ ^o) see you soon, my little guppies!! 

[marlenesluv]

lando + his pasta loving girlfriend

note: gonna be honest, i am craving pasta and have no motivation to order some so i’m putting that hunger into this headcannon, lol. (posting this from a few nights ago…alright, i guess i really like pasta. i was a little tipsy too, so mind the misspells if there are any i didn’t catch.)

type: head-cannon, a little smau

headcannon masterlist here -> click here!

pairing: lando norris x fem!reader

warnings: none!

۵ lando knew that when you two started dating that you loved pasta. you ordered it on the first date, second date, third date. you would have ordered it on the fourth date, but that date was the one where you made dinner. and you made…pasta.

۵ some of his friends, mainly max, thought this was a tiny bit odd, but who was he to judge?

۵ lando was one of the pickiest eaters on this planet.

۵ and it seems that his girlfriend, no, soulmate was too.

۵ lando was infamous for being a picky eater.

۵ sushi? no. vegetables? only because he had to. if he had it his way, it’d be pizza, pasta, and ice cream 24/7.

۵ you were the same way. some healthy food here and there of course, but pasta was truly the best.

۵ after you had been going to the mclaren paddock for around six months, the kitchen staff knew your preference.

۵ they knew you loved pasta. you always ate whatever they made though and never complained.

۵ but lando was loud. very loud.

۵ so if you came over to the table he, oscar, and lily were at eating, he would ask what you got. you told him and he would loudly say “no pasta today!? where is my girlfriend??”

۵ lily would laugh and oscar would roll his eyes and laugh a little.

۵ at this point, a few of the workers would notice your wide eyes and red face from lando embarrassing you.

۵ lando meant no harm, really.

۵ he just didn’t realize how loud he was.

۵ from that moment on, one of the kind older ladies working at mclaren would make you pasta.

۵ everytime you came in, she had a different type of pasta waiting for you.

۵ which really just warmed your heart.

۵ even for your birthday that lando hosted for you, there was pasta. lots of pasta.

۵ he invited his f1 friends, and of course carlos homemade some pasta (so did yuki).

۵ charles bought you a pasta plushie that alexandra had found and knew you had to have.

۵ overall…lots of pasta.

۵ your fans that literally loved your pasta posts as well.

۵ almost every photo dump you had, there was pasta.

۵ and lando was very supportive of this.

۵ hell, he was jealous of how much pasta you got to eat.

۵ his trainer had to restrict his pasta intake, only allowed for special occasions.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

liked by: landonorris, oscarpiastri, and 327,148 others

y/n.user: the love of my life and lando🍝❤️

view comments…

landonorris: wow. i am extremely offended but not really surprised

y/n.user: i’m sorry, i’m kidding. i love you more than pasta

landonorris: how much more????

y/n.user: …..like, 2% more

landonorris: i’ll take it

f1wags: yeah, she’s our iconic pasta mom🫶

user2: my favorite couple 🥹🥹🥹

mclarenfans48: the picture of lando and y/n hugging 🫠 they’re the cutest

pastarecipes: goddess of pasta

y/n.user: i’m not sure if i’m more honored to be called a goddess, or that you think i’m the goddess of PASTA

pastarecipes: omggg i didnt expect you to respond AH ily

user7: that pasta looks DELICIOUS

oscarpiastri: you got your pasta fix of the day then?

y/n.user: ya😎

danielricciardo: so she won’t be cranky when we see them tonight ✊

y/n.user: that comment is gonna cost you a bowl of pasta 💅

danielricciardo: DAMNIT

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

(reposts, comments, and likes are appreciated!^-^)

[jyoongim]

i came across this reel and my immediate thought was "lucifer finding out alastor wanted to date his daughter" (not charlie ofcccc)

Morningstar!Reader x Alastor

>i switched it up a bit so it’ll be Lucidaddy finding out Alastor is dating his baby<

————————————————————————————-

“Just play it cool sis. Its just dad” you tried to reassure your sister, Charlie who was sweating profusely. You grabbed her hand and gave her a smile which made the older girl calm down a bit.

”Youre right! Its just dad…hahaha”

Vaggie had suggested that since the hotel wasn’t going like planned that Charlie should call y’all father. 

Who just happened to be the King of Hell itself.

Charlie shot it down, but you knew that your dad could help relieve some of the stress off the both of you.

So you had everyone in the hotel cleanup and promise they would be on their best behavior.

especially your boyfriend.

”Just be your charming self without the sarcasm please” You pouted up at the tall demon, who sported a smile as he hummed in acknowledgment at your words.

You were nervous to introduce Alastor to your father. You didn’t really have much experience with dating and the relationship between the two of you was as good as it was between him and your sister (slightly better because you’re his baby). You just wanted everything to be smooth enough to slip that you were dating someone.

Surely nothing could go wrong right?

——————————————————————

“Hi dad wel-OH!” Charlie wheezed as Lucifer pulled her into a big hug, squeezing the air out her lungs

”Charlieeee!” He gushed before his eyes caught yours.

You tried to avoid the bone-crushing hug, but your father was too fast; pulling you in as well.

”Oooh my girls how I’ve missed you!”

You missed how Alastor’s eye twitched.

You and Charlie squirmed out of his grasp, trying to regain your composures as you sucked air back into your lungs.

Charlie cleared her throat “Dad welcome to the Hazbin Hotel” she gave a wobbly smile as she showed the last minute decorated lobby.

She introduced all the residents so far and just as she was continue showing him around, Lucifer looked at the bar

”Oh! What in the unholy hell is that?” He looked to you

”babygirl tell me you didn’t approve of that?”

Before you could say anything, Alastor manifested by your side.

”I thought it adds a bit of color, don’t you think?” His smile was big, showing off his teeth.

Your dad grimaced, looking from Charlie to you to Alastor “who-who what are you the bellhop?” he asked.

Alastor laughed “haha! Oh no! I am the host of the hotel. Maybe you’ve heard my radio broadcast?”

Lucifer deadpanned “nope. Maybe that’s why the girls call it the ‘Hazbin hotel ahaha”

you and Charlie winced.

Alastor narrowed his eyes “It was actually my idea.”

”Oh? Well it wasn’t every clever” Lucifer challenged, making Alastor bend to his level ”Ahaha Fuck you” Alastor hissed.

You and Charlie got between the two, you frowning at Alastor, slapping his chest, while Charlie tried to distract dad.

”OoohOk! Dad Alastor here has been a big help.” She said trying to paint the Overlord in a more positive light. She looked at you as if to help plead her case.

”She’s right dad” you said with a smile “Without Alastor I don’t know how we would have gotten this far” you looked at the red demon smiling “he’s been good to us”

That was true. You have no idea where the hotel would be without Alastor’s help.

“These two lovely ladies have such optimistic hearts. I am more than happy to fulfill any desire they have” Alastor said, smiling down at you, wrapping an arm around you, pulling into his side.

Your father narrowed his eyes at the actions and growled lowly.

”uuuh huuuhh. Well-” he slapped Alastor’s arm with his cane and guided you and Charlie to the other guests to be introduced.

”how about you introduce me to your OTHER friends?”

When Charlie introduced Vaggie, you felt your stomach ball in a knot. “Oh you like girls THANK goodness!ahaha” Lucifer’s eyes caught yours, a nervous smile of his face “don’t tell me my baby is in a relationship as well?” Oh what a hopeful look he had.

You looked at Charlie, who gave you an encouraging nod, you cleared your throat, straightening up

”o-oh well about that…” you nervously laughed, looking down as you wring your hands.

A large hand grabbed yours to ease your nervous antic, and instead intertwined your fingers together. You look up to see Alastor standing behind you and bringing your interlocked hands to his lips and press them to the back of your hand. He smiled at you softly as he wrapped his other arm around you.

You looked over to see the King of Hell looking like he’s going to be sick. 

“Dad…Alastor isn’t just the host of the hotel…he’s also my boyfriend” you said smiling at your dad.

Lucifer went to say something, but your sister stopped him, placing a hand on his shoulder “Dad she’s happy and i know Alastor looks like he’s up to no good which most of the time he isn’t   But he actually makes her really happy. Look”

The short king watched as the tall red demon gave you a squeeze, leaning down to press a kiss to your forehead and nuzzle you. He saw how Alastor looked at you with complete devotion, while you looked at him with love in your eyes.

He sighed, bringing your attention back to him. He held out his hand, a tight smile on his face “nice to meet you”

Alastor grinned and shook his hand…before wiping it like it was the most repulsive thing “pleasure to meet you sir!”

You sighed a breath of relief. That wasn’t so bad.

”Tell me…you haven’t slept with my daughter have you?”

”DAD!”

”DAD!”

”what?! I can ask that!?”

”Your youngest has an insatiable sexual appetite”

”AL!”

”SAY WHAT!?”

[darkbluekies]

(Husband) Dr Kry & Hedwig drabbles: summer day activities

Yandere!doctor & yandere!richgirl

Warnings: none, this is probably as fluffy as you can come

Dr Kry:

For once, you are allowed out of the white edwardian villa and allowed to take a walk among society. Dr Kry is wearing a white linen shirt and a pair of sand colored shorts. His blonde hair is brushed back and over his eyes are a pair of sunglasses. Summer brings out a more laid back version of him.

"Hey, hey, come here", he says as you start to walk away from the car. "You need sunscreen."

He helps cover your face with it. He's careful with his fingers, making sure not to poke you in the eye.

He holds your hand as you start to walk. You walk through greenery, past wooden houses in red and white, and by harbors with sailboats. It seems like all of Sweden population is out at the same time because you pass by more people than you have seen in years. Everyone else wants to enjoy the sunshine. Dr Kry doesn't greet anyone as they walk pass, and neither do them. He gives them a small, awkward smile and moves you closer in case you're about to walk into to someone.

"Karl, can we buy ice cream?" you ask as you walk by a kiosk.

"Sure, what flavor do you want?" he asks and takes out his wallet from his pocket.

"Mango", you say excitedly. "I haven't tried that before."

Dr Kry orders from the woman behind the counter.

"You should take some too", you say. "Don't pick the coffee one, you always take that one."

He sighs and looks at the different flavors.

"And a salted licorice for me, thank you", he says.

"Come on ...", you mutter.

"Don't knock it til you try it", Dr Kry smiles over his shoulder.

He pays and thanks the woman behind the counter. He gives you your paper cup and a small plastic spoon. The mango ice cream is refreshing, reminding you of sorbet. You get to try ice cream from Dr Kry’s spoon and you cough at the salty taste. Dr Kry chuckles and takes a bite.

You take lunch at an old café. Kry picks up his phone and snaps a picture of you that he immediately puts as his lockscreen.

"Can we please do this again?"

Hedwig:

Her pool is the perfect temperature. The two of you are planning to spend the entire day out by the pool. Hedwig have bought a new pink bikini that's she had forced you to help find. It took her three hours to decide on one.

"I'm thirsty", you say and sit up on your sun chair. "Would be nice to have something to drink."

"Trudy!" she shouts.

A small, older lady comes out through the doors.

"Yes, miss Hedwig?" she asks.

"Couls you please bring us something to drink?" Hedwig wonders. "And please make sure there are lots of ice!"

The woman nods and walks back inside. You sit down on Hedwig’s chair, eventually laying down. She guides your head to her bare stomach where you rest your cheek on her burning skin. She plays with your wet hair.

"We're going out with the sailboat in two weeks", she says. "We're going to sail around the Mediterranean. I want you to come. It won't be fun without you."

Her "sailboat" could very well be a small yacht.

"I don't know", you mumble.

Her father scares the living hell out of you.

"Oh, come on, you have to!" she whines. "I won't go without you. It'll be fun. We will visit all sorts if places. You have to come."

Trudy returns with two glasses of lemonade and ridiculously many ice cubes. The two of you thank her and start to gulp it down.

"Y/N get up, let's swim", Hedwig says and taps your shoulder.

She brings out a floating ring and tries to climb into it. You push her into the pool, hearing her scream cut off.

"Fuck you, Y/N!" she coughs and hurries to swim to the ladder. "You have to let me push you in now-"

"No, no-" you try, but she grabs your arms with an evil giggle.

"In you go!"

You're pushed into the water and hear her laugh. Hedwig jumps in afterwards and hugs you under water, smiling widely. She kisses you quickly before diving.

[steventhusiast]

STWG daily prompt 3/12/23

prompt: "what the hell happened to you?"

pairing/character(s): steddie

-

Eddie hasn't heard from Steve for forty eight hours when the phone rings, and he jumps for it. He hopes (and maybe prays to the god he doesn't believe in) that it's Steve. That he just... Fell asleep when he got home from his shift at Scoops and that's why he didn't call when he got home two days ago. That he got distracted by the kids the next morning and that's why he didn't call Eddie one day ago.

"Hello?" He says into the phone, trying not to sound too frantic.

But as soon as he finds out who's calling, a rock settles in his stomach.

"This is Hawkins General Hospital, am I speaking with Wayne Munson?"

He's silent for a moment. Fuck. Something's happened to Steve. He debates lying, because Wayne left for work literally five minutes ago, and he needs to know what happened, and what if Steve's dead?-

"No. This is Eddie Munson, ma'am, Wayne just left for work. Is- Is everything okay?" He closes his eyes as he speaks, tips his head forward to lightly bang it against the wall of the trailer. Why didn't he just lie? Now they're never going to tell him.

"Alright, one moment.." The lady on the phone says, and Eddie hears some papers rustling and then a sigh, "Oh, Edward Munson?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"You're listed as another emergency contact, so I can tell you this as well." Eddie breathes out a sigh of relief, but feels tears start to well up as he imagines what she's about to say.

"This is in regards to Steven Harrington, who is alive and stable but quite badly injured. That's all I can say over the phone. Before he can be discharged, if his next of kin don't respond, we'll need to talk through patient care with you or Wayne Munson, alright?"

"Yes I- He can have visitors, right?" He's already looking frantically around the room to see where the keys to his van are.

"Yes. Visiting hours don't end for another two hours yet."

Eddie's never hung up a phone so fast.

-

When he finally gets to Steve's room (after an argument with the receptionist who was hesitant to give him the room number), he practically throws open the door in his haste, and is... Surprised at the amount of people in the room.

He's zeroed in on Steve before he properly registers them though. As soon as he processes the state of his boyfriend, everyone else in the room practically disappear from his mind.

"Oh, Stevie." He whispers, walking over to the bed.

Steve seems to be either asleep or passed out, and he looks.. Horrible. One eye is swollen shut, there's a bandage over his nose like it's broken, and his bottom lip is swollen with a (freshly stitched up) wound trailing down from it an inch or so. And that's just his face-- Eddie can't even see the rest of him right now.

"What the hell happened to you?" He mumbles to himself, hesitantly reaching out to rest a hand on Steve's forearm.

It's then that he's rudely reminded of the presence of others in the room.

"More like what the hell is Eddie Munson doing in Steve Harrington's hospital room?" A familiar voice asks, and he turns to see Robin Buckley sat at Steve's side. A little more turning around and he sees Dustin, who he recognises from pictures, and a little girl who can't be older than ten.

Robin looks confused and suspicious, and like she's about to interrogate him until she sees the genuine distress (and tears) in his eyes. She softens a little, and lets Eddie ask what he's been dying to ask for over forty eight hours now.

"Is he okay?" He sniffles harshly in attempt to get rid of the waver in his voice.

"He will be. Pretty bad concussion though, and- No, wait. Seriously, why are you here?"

Eddie's about to make something up, when Steve rouses with a groan. Everyone's quiet as he squints open his good eye and groans some more at the lights.

"Wha's- Wha's goin' on?" He slurs, and Eddie feels the tears return. Steve sounds as fucked up as he looks, and- shit, Robin said concussion? Steve's already had one too many of those.

"Hey, it's okay Stevie. You know where you are?" Eddie asks gently, opting to ignore everyone else once again if they're going to stay quiet.

"Eds?" Steve's face scrunches up in a way that looks painful, and he slowly looks over in Eddie's direction with eyes that are definitely too dilated.

Eddie starts rubbing his thumb back and forth where he's still gently resting a hand on Steve's forearm. He hopes it's comforting rather than adding to Steve's pain.

"Yeah, I'm here. I got you, sweetheart."

read part 2 here

[komelrebi-san]

gojo satoru is such a dilf, oh lord

oh no, i'm so whipped for this guy i think i might be mentally insane because how does he have the ability to make me so delusional can someone get me a gojo where can i get a gojo

tw: MDNI!, age gap, single-handsome-neighbour trope, gojo is a rich single dad and his daughter is so damn cute, dom! gojo, fingering, slight choking, drinking, unprotected sex (wrap before you tap kiddos!!), size kink, tummy bulge, daddy+mommy dynamics, oral f! receiving, praise kink, semi-public sex (idk if it counts??), lmk if there's more!

don't like, don't read.

a/n: oops, sorry this was accidentally a bit longer than i thought it would be lmfao. pls comment/dm if you want this to be made into a full oneshot!

you, fresh out of college and just landed a well-paying job, managed to afford a house in a newly built expensive condominium. the apartment next door was uninhabited, as far as you knew. though, you were told otherwise when a little girl tugged on your hand as you walked by the playground in your condo, saying that she didn't know where her daddy was.

perhaps, for a second, you'd cursed to yourself at how careless and heartless the parent must be to have neglected their own child, especially a child as cute as this one! her hair was white as snow, shining gently in the sun; her eyes were a sharp blue, twinkling cheekily as she tugged on your fingers with her small hands. feeling yourself completely beaten by her puppy eyes, you decide to stay with her until her father arrives.

and oh, goodness, to think that all negative thoughts you had about the parent would completely disappear at one glance.

because fuck, he's gorgeous, he's the prettiest man you've ever met. and conveniently, his daughter happened to be the spitting image of him.

but wait, he lives next door! he just moved in.

at first, he was just a friend - a soft-hearted man who looks way too young to be in his early thirties: the kind that always called you over to hangout when his daughter comes because he knew you adored her chubby cheeks and grabby hands; the kind that always offered to help you with work and groceries and whatever that needed fixing in your house; the kind that always cooks for you or buys an extra serving of food on his way home from work.

but somewhere along the lines of knowing him, something sparked between the both of you (and it may or may not have been first planted in both of your minds by his fatally cute daughter, when she asked if 'the pretty lady next door will be moving in').

but it probably started on the night when he put his daughter to bed slightly later than usual, and invited you over for a drink.

there's nothing wrong with that...right?

wrong!

maybe it was the alcohol in your system, maybe it was the yearning for affection, maybe it was the ache for a proper relationship. but you'd told him what happened when he asked why your hand kept going to your neck when there's nothing there.

cheeks flushed, you'd told him how your ex cheated on you with one of your closest friends from highschool. and somehow you can't stop reaching for the necklace that you used to never take off, the one he gave you for your one-year anniversary.

and sometime after that, it led to you sitting in gojo's lap, lips against his with his large hands dangerously low on your hips. sure, it felt wrong because he already has a daughter whom you can't adore more than you already do, it felt wrong because he was like, what, 10 years older than you? and it also felt wrong because you're sure you shouldn't be kissing him when his daughter is sleeping peacefully in her bedroom just down the corridor.

but hell, it felt good too. because god, you swear this man is so damn fine - his eyes in the prettiest shade of blue possible, his soft white hair, his tall lean figure that he hasn't failed to maintain despite being a single dad in his early thirties, his large hands and, oh goodness, his voice. you're positive that you probably almost died on the spot when you saw him in a suit, veiny hands reaching to tug his tie loose with an almost wolfish grin on his lips as he said hi too you.

so, in conclusion, he's the biggest dilf you've ever met and goddamn there would never be a smash or pass judgement for him, because he is and always will be smash.

(oh, and there was this once he got grumpy and pouty because of his friend that came over...what was his name again? geto, was it? anyway, geto was really nice towards you, but gojo got pissed about it. but then again, gojo looks really cute when he's angry.)

and so, it happened.

---

dilf! gojo that never fails to give you the sweetest compliments and cutest pet names that leaves you blushing profusely. oh, he's such a menace, he thinks that you're so cute when you blush so he just ends up teasing you all the time. it's never 'y/n', it's always gotta be 'sweetheart' or 'honey' or 'cutie', or at the very very least 'n/n-chan'.

dilf! gojo that thinks it feels so natural to call you and his daughter 'his girls', curtsy of that one time when you dozed off with his daughter on your lap as you babysat her. 'my little girls look so adorable,' he'd say, sitting next to you while swinging an arm around your shoulders and pulling you into him.

dilf! gojo that is simply casually affectionate towards those close to him, and it multiplied when it came to you, it just felt so natural. forehead kisses, head pats, hair ruffles (oh god, his big hands, sheesh). it felt right to sling an arm around your shoulder or around your waist.

dilf! gojo that loves hugging you - it's not even that sexual, he just loves having you close to him, feeling your warmth and your sweet scent envelope him, feeling your body right up against his. he thinks that you fit perfectly in his arms (bonus! if you're short, bc he likes to prop his chin on your head).

dilf! gojo that insists you call him 'satoru'.

dilf! gojo that just simply can't stop thinking about you after that kiss, because holy fuck your lips taste so good, felt so soft against his. you looked so small and delicate in his lap, he thinks he can't possibly forget about the sight. you look so pretty when you're blushing and tugging him in for another kiss, wait no, you look so pretty all the time.

dilf! gojo who doesn't fail to notice how you got upset when he asked you to babysit his daughter as he'd be away for the night on a date. oh, the pout you tried to hide. of course he noticed it, because he knew that you want him, and fuck, he wants you too. so bad. so, so bad (but still, you looked so terribly cute as you fixed his tie for him).

dilf! gojo that came back as early as possible, heart almost jumping out of his chest when he realised you'd already put his daughter to bed. oh, you looked so beautiful as you waited for him to come back, sat on the couch with a book in your delicate hands. and he wanted, no, needed to explain to you that you're all he wants, who the fuck cares about that girl he was set up with?

dilf! gojo that just simply couldn't hold himself back as he saw your lips part in shock at his explanation as to why the date was so boring. of course it was boring, she isn't you, and she will never be you. why would i be looking for someone else when i've got my beautiful girls waiting at home for me? he'd say. and it's true.

dilf! gojo that just climbed on top of you and smashed his lips into yours. holy shit, it felt so good, it's just like what he'd been chasing after since that drunken kiss with you on his lap.

dilf! gojo that is so intoxicated by your taste, your scent, everything about you. one his hands cupped your face, the other traced up your thighs. though, he doesn't forget to ask for your permission, a smile curving onto his lips when your hips buck up into his hand, a breathy whimper of 'yes, please' falling from your lips.

dilf! gojo that is so obsessed with the way your juices taste. just from licking his fingers, he was tempted into licking a long stripe along your folds, groaning when quiet whines and whimpers bubble up your throat. if he had the patience, he'd eat you out for hours...but not today, because his cock was so hard that it practically hurts, begging to be released from its restraints.

dilf! gojo that swore if he was any less of a man, he'd have cummed immediately as he slowly pushed his big cock inside you, groaning when you clamped down on him. ah, but you can't be too loud, because you'd wake his daughter. so he settled on wrapping a large hand around your throat, squeezing just so very slightly, his touch gentle but dominating.

dilf! gojo that possibly just got harder upon seeing your small figure beneath him, back arching up and head thrown back. there was a bulge in your tummy. fuck, you're taking me so good, sweetheart. such a good girl for me, oh shit. he'd say, lips on your neck, his other hand gripping your waist.

dilf! gojo that rutted into you harder and faster when he heard you call him daddy. fuck, everything that left your lips always sound so pretty. yeah? you want me to make you a mommy? fill your cute little pussy to the brim with my seed? yeah? you gonna be a good girl and take all my cum? you want me to breed you, yeah? he'd pant, moving his away from your throat to knead one of your tits, crushing your lips with his to muffle your moans.

dilf! gojo that came inside you with a groan, painting your insides white with his thick sticky seed, reaching for that spot deep inside your pussy that made you see stars.

dilf! gojo that thinks you look so pretty, fucked out and panting, tongue lolling out of your mouth and cunt clamping down on his dick like a vice, both your juices spilling out of you.

dilf! gojo is serious about wanting you and wanting to be with you.

[cute-sucker]

oh em geeee im thinking of rafe taking you to weddings as his plus one 😇

i'd like to think he does this when the two of you are engaged??

⌗ . ·🌥⌇⁺.🌷

theres something about that man dragging you to a wedding, your his plus one and he's staring at the diamond on your finger with such vigor you would think he wanted to marry you at that second.

you like it too, the way that he watches you in your shimmery dress as if he can't get his eyes off you. not only that but he kisses you so deeply you can feel it all the way to your heart. there is something about him, the way he gets ready in a dark suit, a firm look on his face after you took hours to get ready.

and he's the type of person you don't want to invite to a wedding, because he'd asking you what you would like. at one point, he's pointing at the roses and the different foods, "yea' baby so which one do you think would look good at our wedding?"

you're blushing, but trying to tell him to stop at the same time, "rafe! you can't talk about our wedding while we're here at-"

he definitely silences you with his kiss, hands coiling around your waist and when he pulls away you're stunned the way you always are. at one point you get so drunk you start sitting on his lap telling him you want to go.

to make matters worse, he's trying to talk to the older couples as well, trying to make small talk by asking how quickly the marriage ended into the honeymoon stage, "so was it 3 days? i mean-listen between you and me, my lady and i would like to go into our honeymoon as soon as possible."

then he would give you a firm pat on the bum before you gasped and whispered your apologies.  

the two of you are horrible at weddings, and yet somewhat endearing. everyone knows rafe as the big bad wolf, but standing next to your giggly persona, a sweetness that radiates off you - he looks almost....soft.

people can see the way his eyes continuously linger over you, and how he always manages to weasel his way into the conversations you have. but he doesn't bother what others think of him, rather he stares at your bright smile and feels love grow in his heart.

especially when the heels get too much for you.

"rafe?" you mewled, practically on the floor. he looked shocked staring at your small figure under the table.

"what the hell are you doing down there?" he hisses, as you give him a dazed smile. clearly, you've had something to drink as you bite your lip before giggles escape your mouth. your laughter is a clear sign of how much you've had to drink

you sigh, tugging at the straps of your shoes, "can't get them off?"

he shakes his head, "why did you wanna wear them in the first place."

at this you pout, tilting your head down almost in sadness, "'cause they looked cute." finally, he grunts before his coarse fingers reach down to fix your heels. you let out a sign of relief when the heels unbuckle, and he stares at you with an exaggerated look.

now it's your turn to smile, "lets go home!"

you know what's coming, but you enjoy it anyway. he bundles you up in his arms - bridal style (he's horrible at weddings, yes he is,) hand supporting your back as you shyly wave your friends goodbye.

you're excited to be a mrs. cameron.

[steddiealltheway]

(Set right before season 4)

Steve rushes over to the Henderson house after an ominous call from Dustin saying, "Come over as soon as you can, it's an emergency," before hanging up dramatically.

He can hear his nail bat rolling around in his trunk every turn he takes as he gets there in record time. He grabs the bat out of the trunk and rushes to the door, not bothering to knock before he barges in.

He's met with the sight of Eddie Munson staring at him with wide eyes as Dustin yells, "No! No! Don't swing! Not a code red!"

Steve sets down the bat and lets out a deep breath. "What the hell, Henderson?! I could've seriously taken you out with this thing!" He hears Dustin give him a half-assed apology as he tries to get his heartbeat to slow down. "Next time, don't leave such a cryptic message, okay?"

"Okay," Dustin says, holding his hands up.

"What the fuck is that?" Munson asks, staring at the bat.

Steve points at him and says, "Language," before turning to Dustin and asking, "What's he doing here?"

Dustin sighs and gestures them toward his couch. Steve shoots Eddie a look before taking a seat right against the arm of the couch. It's not that he hates him, hell, he's pretty sure he's gotten weed from him before. It's just that he doesn't like sharing this older brother role with another guy - especially one who likes to make dramatic speeches on top of lunch tables.

Based on the way Eddie is similarly leaning away from him and uncomfortably fidgeting with his rings, he can tell there's a mutual tension between them. Dustin doesn't pick up on it as he sits across from them, acting like he's about to deliver the worst news ever.

Steve leans forward a little trying to get Dustin to finally spill and tries not to lean back immediately when he sees that Eddie is doing the same thing.

"Okay, Suzie and I were talking, and her family is considering visiting Hawkins."

Steve smiles. "That's great, but why-"

"Why are you acting like that's bad news?" Eddie asks, finishing Steve's sentence. The two glance at each other, and Steve tries not to size him up.

Dustin groans, "Because I need to take her on a proper date! We weren't able to go on dates during science camp, so I want this to be special. Of course, this is all contingent on whether she can convince her dad to give us alone time..."

"I could be your chaperone, but I'd ditch you once you got to the movie theater," Steve offers.

Eddie scoffs, "Yeah, a date with Suzie will not be at a movie theater."

Steve crosses his legs and turns toward Eddie. "Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't know you knew something about dating. Wait a minute." He directs his attention back to Dustin, utterly horrified. "You asked me and Munson for girl help?"

"Don't sound so shocked," Eddie says, but Steve ignores him.

"Yes," Dustin states simply. He sighs and gestures between the two of them. "Steve, you're a lady's man and you know exactly what to say and where the best date spots are, but you pick up the worst girls. Except Robin who you refuse to date." Steve doesn't have time to argue before Dustin points at Eddie, "And Eddie understands all the cool nerd stuff that Suzie and I like, and he's super charismatic. So, I thought we could combine your abilities to create the most epic date in the history of dates."

"No," Steve and Eddie both say at once.

"Guys-"

Steve turns to Eddie and raises an eyebrow. "Why are you protesting my help?"

"Because try as he might, Dustin can't convince me that you aren't an asshole that has never actually wooed a girl. You get by with your pretty looks and think that's enough."

Steve's mind lingers a bit on the "pretty looks" for some reason, but he pushes past it to say, "Please, you're telling me you know a single thing about wooing a girl?"

Eddie leans in with a bright smile. "You heard it from Henderson, I'm charming."

"Charismatic," Steve corrects him, "But I haven't seen a shred of that yet."

Eddie tosses an arm over the back of the couch and scoots in until Steve is trapped against the arm of the couch. Steve tries not to show Eddie how much the sudden closeness is affecting him.

"I could easily charm your pants off, big boy," Eddie says with a wink.

Steve's eyes betray him and flicker down to Eddie's lips. "Please, I'd easily beat you to it."

Eddie tilts his head and looks at him through his lashes. "Are you saying you want to charm my pants off, Harrington? I'm flattered, but I'm not that kind of girl."

Steve raises his eyebrows. "Is that a bet?"

"Do you want it to be? Because it kind of sounds like it."

Steve blames his series of bad dates, the meaningless sex with girls with no substance, and the weird tension between them for his response. "It's a date, Munson."

"So, I'm going to assume that was the weirdest way of you two agreeing to help me," Dustin says, startling Steve away from Eddie who he was definitely not just about to kiss.

"Jesus H. Christ," Eddie mumbles under his breath as he moves away, seeming to have also forgotten where they were.

"Sure, we'll create a date for you two and trial-run it for issues," Steve says.

Dustin smiles wide and giggles, "See, I knew you two would help if you just put your dumb differences aside!"

"Something like that," Eddie mutters. "But hey, what does your gut say? Where do you want to take her?"

Dustin shrugs. "I like the idea of the movies."

Steve slowly looks over at Eddie and gives him a cocky smile. Eddie's mouth twitches momentarily into a frown, but he ignores him. "I'll think of something special to do after, but Harrington can fill you in on a movie date."

"I thought you were the expert on wooing," Steve snarkily replies.

Eddie huffs, "Movie dates just aren't my thing."

If they're actually trial-running this, Steve will make it a point to make movie dates Eddie's thing.

"That sounds great. Thank you both!" Dustin says, still ignoring the obvious tension.

"Well, I've got to head out, but it was good seeing you," Eddie says with a genuine smile that Steve thinks he would like to see more often.

"I do, too. Hey, I'm glad I could help. Next time maybe don't make it sound like a nail-bat emergency though," Steve says lowering his voice before grabbing the bat.

He follows Eddie toward the front, but they both stop and turn to mess up Dustin's hair simultaneously. Steve pulls his hand back when Eddie's hand runs on top of his. He looks at him with his eyebrows furrowed.

"I told you you guys are similar."

Steve thinks that Dustin's right, but maybe they're only similar in the way they both obviously care for him.

They finish their goodbyes and head out into the cold January weather. Steve clutches his jacket tighter around himself - he had forgotten to grab a heavier coat in his rush over. He turns to Eddie and says, "Hey."

Eddie turns to him and raises his eyebrows.

"Want to trial-run that date tonight?"

Eddie frowns at him. "I thought you were joking."

With that, Steve should take the clear out given to him and agree. Yes, it was just a joke. Instead, he says, "It doesn't have to be."

It's a long few seconds of Eddie staring at him before he gets a quiet response of, "Yeah, sure. Uh, let's go to my place though. I don't want your reputation to be tainted if you're seen in public with me."

"I wouldn't mind," Steve says sincerely. He's not sure why he's so adamant about this date, but maybe he just wants to see where that moment on the couch could truly lead. "But hey, your reputation would also be tainted if you're associating with me."

"And we wouldn't want that," Eddie says with a small smile. "The freak and the king. What would people say?"

This surprises a laugh out of Steve before he says, "I think your place would probably be a little more intimate than a movie theater."

He can't tell if Eddie's cheeks suddenly flush a little pinker from the cold or a blush. "I told you, I'm not that kind of guy."

"More intimate doesn't always mean sex. You know this."

Eddie laughs and shakes his head. "Why don't we continue this conversation at my place so you don't freeze to death?"

"I like the sound of that," Steve says, making his way to his car and trying to hide the huge smile that's trying to split across his face all because of Eddie Munson.

He rushes to shove his bat into the trunk, hoping that he won't have to further explain that to Eddie. But based on the way his eyes linger on it, he's thinking he won't get away from questioning too easily.

Luckily, he has prepared his Harrington charm for this moment. And boy, he's going to be using it as often as he can to prove Eddie wrong.

Part Two (aka the final part)

[harunayuuka2060]

Ruggie: Hm? Where are you going, Leona?

Leona: I'm gonna welcome Akihiko. He said that he was waiting at the gate.

Ruggie: Eh?

Ruggie: Are ya' not gonna tell Yuurin first?

Leona: She's in the middle of class. I'll just lead her brother to her classroom.

Ruggie: Oh, okay.

Ruggie: ...

Ruggie: By the way, what are you going to do with that nerf gun?

Leona: Leal.

Ruggie: Lol. Poor dude.

Vil: What? Leona has a girlfriend?

Epel: Yeah!

Vil: ...

Vil: That's impossible. Do you think someone like "Leona" can woo a woman?

Rook: I see no reason why not, Roi du Poison. If Roi des Lions can charm a man, I don't see why it wouldn't be possible with a woman.

Vil and Epel: ...

Vil: What the hell, Rook. Anyway, Epel, why did you think that Leona has a girlfriend?

Epel: Well, I saw him accompanying this lady and they seem very close.

Vil: ...

Vil: Didn't it come to you that they might just be friends?

Epel: ...

Epel: Right.

Vil: *sigh*

Akihiko: *walking gracefully as Leona and Leal accompany him*

Leona: *noticed the other students staring*

Leona: Why these kids gawking?

Leal: It might be because of Master Akihiko's beauty.

Leona: ...

Leona: How come you didn't dress as a guy?

Akihiko: Finding men's clothes that suited me was challenging.

Leal: ...

Leona: ...

Akihiko: Oh! Is this the class Yuurin is in?

Leona: Yeah. *knocks on the door*

Professor Trein: *opens it* Hm? Kingscholar?

Leona: 'Sup, Trein.

Professor Trein: *looks at Akihiko and Leal*

Professor Trein: Who are these people?

Leona: Ah, this one is Aki- I mean, Akane, Yuurin's older sister.

Leona: And this guy right here is Leal, their servant.

Leal: ...

Professor Trein: Oh. It's nice to meet you. I'm Mozus Trein. A history professor here at Night Raven College.

Akihiko: It's nice to meet you, Professor Trein. I've heard from Yuurin that you are one of his favorite professors.

Professor Trein: *chuckles* You flatter me.

Leona: Is Yuurin in your class?

Professor Trein: Yes. The students are having an exam. But I don't mind if the three of you watch.

Akihiko: *smiles* That would be lovely. Thank you, Professor Trein.

Yuurin: *hasn't noticed Akihiko, Leona, and Leal yet since she's too focused on answering the exam and making sure that every answer is correct*

Professor Trein: Your brother is quite studious.

Akihiko: *nods in agreement*

Ace: *yawns* *then happens to look at the front* Huh?

Ace: *starts tapping on Deuce's shoulder*

Deuce: What?

Ace: *whisper-yelled* A girl!

Deuce: Huh? *then looks at where he's pointing*

Deuce: ...

Akihiko: *wearing an elegant floral, long-sleeve dress with a surplice neckline*

Akihiko: *smiles and waves at them*

Ace and Deuce: *blushes in embarrassment and returns to answering their test papers*

Leona: Tch.

Yuurin: *finished up checking her answers and looked up to ask Professor Trein, then spotted Akihiko*

Yuurin: ...

Akihiko: *mouths* 'Are you done?' *smiles*

Yuurin: *nods* *then looks sternly at Leal*

Leal: *immediately lowers his head*

Leona: Wow. Good luck to you, Leal.

Leal: *mumbles* Master Akihiko, can I just wait for you outside the campus?

Akihiko: ...

Akihiko: Yes, it's fine.

Yuurin: Where is your husband?

Leona: He fled after you glared at him.

Yuurin: ...

Akihiko: *chuckles* That was Leal.

Yuurin: ...

Yuurin: Did you marry him because he was nice?

Akihiko: You could say that.

Leona: Heh.

Ace and Deuce: Yuurin! *is running towards them*

Ace: Is she your older sister?!

Yuurin: ...

Yuurin: Yes.

Akihiko: Pleased to meet you. My name is Akane. Yuurin's older sister.

Ace: Wha~! You're beautiful! No wonder Yuurin's so handsome!

Leona: *glares at Ace*

Ace: ...

Deuce: Nice to meet you, Sis Akane! My name's Deuce Spade! I'm one of Yuurin's closest friends!

Ace: A-And I'm Ace Trappola! Your future brother-in-law!

Leona: Huh?

Ace: Yikes! I'm just joking, senpai!

Idia: Eh? Yuurin's older brother?

Ortho: Hm!

Idia: ...

Idia: Is he together with Yuurin now?

Ortho: It seems they went to Savanaclaw. Why don't we go there to greet him, brother?

Idia: ...

Idia: I'll just send Yuurin a dm.

Ortho: No! You should greet them personally!

Idia: Leona is there! What do you want me to do?!

Akihiko: Yuurin~ Bluebell~?

Yuurin: ...

Yuurin: *sigh* *switches to her feminine voice* What is it, Aki?

Akihiko: *claps happily*

Akihiko: Your feminine voice is adorable, bluebell!

Yuurin: ...

Yuurin: It's not as adorable as your feminine voice.

Akihiko: Don't worry about it. I'm sure it will improve more in the next couple of years.

Leona: Aki's right. Anyway, we should go shopping.

Yuurin: Shopping?

Akihiko: Yes. I want to go shopping with you, bluebell.

Yuurin: ...

Yuurin: Alright. *just wants to spend time with her brother*

Leona: Oh, is Leal going to tag along?

Yuurin: ...

Akihiko: I think it's best if we leave him. *smiles*

[scoutswritingcorner]

Lost And Found

PLATONIC Father!Alastor x Gn!Child!Reader

TW:Susan.

A/N: PART TWO OF TOO LATE!! Credits to the Amazing Anon for the prompt and @aboyscriminalrecord FOR THE AMAZING ART!! AUNTIE ROSIE IS WHAT I LIVE FOR

First Prompt, Second Prompt

Rosie was walking through Cannibal Town when she first met you. Standing in the middle of the road, shaking like a leaf as you cried your little heart out. She couldn’t leave a small thing like you alone, so she walked over watching as the smaller ears littered with small little dots fell back on your head. A little doe lost in the scary world, where were your parents? 

She crouched down and held out her hands, “Hi there Little one,” She started watching you look around before moving closer towards her as a few people stopped to watch. Your little hooves clicking on the asphalt of the road as your hands held onto hers. You felt safe with her, the same feeling of safety that you associated with your papa and grandma, she was safe? But where was your papa? You wanted to see him again.

~~~

You lost track of how long you’ve been with Auntie Rosie but it’s been fun! You get to run around the town and play with other kids which was something that you could never really do because of how sick you were. It wasn’t until an older lady with a weird looking scarf came out and started yelling at your group that you got upset.

You weren’t near her garden! You were on the opposite side of the road! You huffed and turned to ignore her, you couldn’t go back to Auntie Rosie cause she said she was having an old friend over and you weren’t supposed to meddle in adult business but you didn’t want to play with an old lady that was yelling at you. So you walked back towards Auntie Rosie’s store, as the old lady followed you yelling even more. 

Rosie got a surprise when she watched as Susan walked in, yelling at her about the little child she was taking care of. She sent Alastor an apologetic glance that he had waved off as he stared at Susan, who was yelling about how their clothes were dirty and how they were too close to her garden. As she finally got Susan to calm down, which took a lot of time, the sound of small hooves on the tiled floor caught her attention and then a soft sounding, “Papa?” echoed throughout the room. The room fell silent as she looked over to see you hiding behind the counter as you stared at Alastor.

Alastor’s head snapped towards the sound before his hands started to shake as he stared down at you. What were you doing down in hell? You were supposed to be up in Heaven with his Mama. He stood up as Rosie looked at him but he didn’t pay no mind as he slowly walked over watching as your eyes lit up and you smiled at him. He was silent for too long as he crouched down to your height, “Hello little fawn,” He whispered out trying to hold back the tears as you ran forward and hugged his arm, little tail wagging a mile a minute. 

He carefully picked your tinier body up, it still felt light as it did when you died and he cursed at himself for it. Your arms moved to wrap around his neck as you talked all about Rosie and the new friends you had made in the town, he buried his face into your hair, careful of the tiny ears on your head as he silently cried. He was happy he had you back in his arms after all of this time but then he blamed himself, dragging his child down into hell with him? What kind of Father did that?

A soft hand was placed on his shoulder and he glanced up to see Rosie smiling at him. “I’ll go make some more tea,” She whispered as he looked back down at you, his little fawn. He’d do it right this time, he’ll protect you from everything that dared put you in harm's way and he’ll try to find a way to put you in heaven with his Mama. You didn’t belong down here with him.

He’d worry about that later. Right now he just wanted to hold you in his arms for just a moment longer.

Taglist: @misty-melody, @littledolly2345

A/N: ANON IF YOUR SEEING THIS I HOPE ITS LIVING UP TO YOUR IDEA!! ALSO HOPE EVERYONE ENJOYS!!!