#and to be fair he was a boy on the run it makes sense he'd give a fake name

[derryallergy]

i actually thought that tewksbury was making up his name on the spot when he introduced himself

"viscount tewksbury marquess of basilweather" sounds SO FAKE

[madschiavelique]

Hi dear, how are you?, could you write an imagine onde reader mentioning offhand how much she would love a whole family. Four, maybe six children? Girls and boys split right down the middle, but the second Miguel hears this (maybe the reader is on the phone, or talking to lyla. or someone at HQ) and Miguel loses his mind

1) Miguel can't help himself and he would grab you and put you on the mattress for a very long time...... or

2) torture himself for two weeks before telling her why he was avoiding her please.

HIHIHI BREEDING BARK BARK (sorry this took so long to write anon zehfrfgh i pulled an all nighter to make this one so also forgive me if there are some mistakes in this gksffgjgbf)

summary : miguel learns you want kids, a lot of kids, so he breeds you

content warnings : SMUT (18+) minors dni, pnv sex - unprotected (be safe kids), breeding kink, soft!dom miguel, obsessive!miguel, no use of Y/N, fem!reader word count : 3,2k

tag list : @fandom-ash @haradasaya

Miguel was on his way to see you. He'd heard that you were back from your mission and that everything had gone well, so he'd come to get you to take you out for lunch.

He was taking advantage of the little free time he had to visit you, even though he would obviously pass this visit off as work-related in everyone's eyes. He had to always, always remain professional and keep everything under control so that everybody could do their bit.

"Six?!" asked Jess, the word choking in her throat.

Well, you were indeed back with Jess.

"Mhm, six," you affirmed as you both busied yourselves filing a report.

What were they talking about? He leaned against a wall. He knew it wasn't very polite to eavesdrop, but the word got around here. Most of society's building had cameras, and everything that was often said or done was recorded here.

He just wanted to listen to you, wondering if there were any topics of conversation that you weren't having with him and with the other spiders. Yes, he was manic, and probably a little too obsessive.

In any case, he wondered what you could have said to Jessica to make her exclaim like that.

"The more the merrier," you laughed softly.

"I hate this sentence so much," sighed Jess.

"Why so?" your voice was sincerely interrogative.

"In this context, it's really not my preferred idiom one might say," she replied as Miguel heard her tapping on a pad to enter more information.

What on earth could they be talking about? he wondered. What subject could suggest that six was far too high a number for Jess's judgement? He knew that Jess was an oragnised woman like himself, with a lot of tact and a fair amount of authority.

Was it perhaps a consecutive number of days doing an activity? Six days of marathon running might have been a bit much, but six days' holiday was never too much. He breathed in very softly, it had been years since he'd had time for such a thing. Did you want to take him on a holiday? If so, the number of days was inordinate. He would never be able to get away from his work for more than three days.

Maybe it was something else then. What was too much in Jess's mind with six?

Six empanadas perhaps? Miguel would obviously disagree. You can never have enough empanada for his taste. But Jess would probably disapprove.

Six... Six pets? It's true that having six pets might be a bit of an exaggeration, at least in Miguel's eyes of course.

Perhaps six books? No, that didn't make sense. Although Jess wasn't a huge reader, she did have a book in her hands from time to time.

So what was it? He was intrigued, that's for sure.

"You know, in my opinion, one kid is already way too much to handle," she sighed, "but six ? Nah, that's some good way of ending your life while still being alive."

But Miguel had barely heard the rest of the sentence, his mind having been caught by a single word: kid. He immediately froze, his heart skipping a beat.

Kid, like... children ? Like, actual human beings ? Small human beings ?

His eyes were wide, his mouth parted. No, he must not have heard correctly, although he dreamed that it was indeed that word that had been uttered.

"Why not? Surrounding ourselves with life is good," you said softly. "I'd love to see six little heads running around. I want three of each, three girls and three boys."

He wasn't mistaken: the discussion was really about the number of children you wanted. Six, he thought, six, six, the word echoing in his mind. He put both his hands on his hips, as if to hold on to something.

He pictured you, your rounded belly, stroking the hair of a child, your child, his child... both your children.

He swallowed, however, as another, immensely more tantalising vision took hold of his mind.

The vision of your cunt, glistening with your desire as from between its lips dripped little by little his own cum, his own seed leaking from you, your belly full of him...

It made his dick twitch for a hot second, and he couldn't remove that image, he didn't want to get rid of that image. The idea that your belly could be full of him, that he could breed you until he had no strength left was magnificent.

"What an egalitarian spirit," Jess noted wryly, "Well, it's all in order."

His thoughts were riveted on the image. He could almost hear in his own mind the sweet melody your moans would make as he came inside you again.

No, it was now impossible for him to think about anything else, he told himself that maybe he shouldn't be thinking about this. Except it's a well-known fact that if you tell someone not to think about something, they'll think about it.

He knew what breeding was, obviously, but what about you? Did you even have a clue what it was?

He tried to pull himself together, he had to either leave here or come towards you and pretend to come naturally. Would he be able to hold it together and act as if nothing had happened? Did he really have a choice in the matter after all? He breathed in, tightening his jaw as he decided to come towards you.

He walked purposefully, his usual grumpy face set surprisingly naturally as he advanced towards you.

"Ah, you're back," he sighed as if pleasantly surprised to see you both here, "how was the mission?"

"Excellent," Jess affirmed, "we've just finished the report, the anomaly has been taken care of as it should have been since we arrived."

He nodded, his serious face opening a control pad to check what she was saying and opening the file in question, pretending to read its contents. He had the impression that everywhere he looked the image came right back to him, on every tile, on every screen, everywhere in his mind.

"That's good work," he breathed.

"Damn right," nodded Jess. " Well, I'm off to join my own little demon, take care you two."

"See ya," you replied as she headed for the exit.

He wondered by what superhuman strength he managed to remain unwavering and stoic.

You moved closer to him, hugging his back and comforting yourself in the embrace.

"How was your day?" you asked, squeezing him in your arms.

Unwavering and stoic, Miguel, you have to remain unwavering and stoic.

You put your hands on his body, and with one touch his concentration was simply wiped out.

He turned to you, smiling a strange, uncertain smile as he stroked your hair, a little tense.

"You know how it is, just a lot of work," but his eyes were watching yours strangely, a flash of a vision where they were filled with desire looking back at him.

You studied him for a moment, noticing how distracted he seemed, his eyes looking at you in a strange way. You could feel a kind of desire there, a kind of longing, but you couldn't work out what it was.

"Is... everything alright?"

He shuddered, obviously his little show wasn't going to last much longer. He broke away from your embrace, he couldn't keep looking at you like that.

"Hey," you said softly, "you know you can tell me everything, right?"

Could I tell you this ? he wondered. He looked at you for a moment, another flash of you all moaning and covered in hickeys and marks on your body as you breathed his name. He looked away, closing his eyes in the hopes the flashes would stop.

"I'm afraid I cannot speak about this..."

But how he wanted to speak about this, to tell you how much he wanted to fuck you until you were full of him, until the only thing present in your mouth was his name and how much he wanted to see the sight of your round belly.

But you wouldn't listen to his silence. So you walked over to him and took his hand.

"Miguel, look at me. you asked, and he looked at you, his visions mingling with the reality where you were looking at him, worried. "Tell me."

He sighed. He couldn't run away from his ideas forever, run away from these images that he wanted to see in reality and not just in his mind. He wanted to raise his idea from the theoretical to the practical, and it was with an almost guilty breath that he admitted:

"I want to breed you."

There was a slight silence, his eyes plunged into yours, desperate to know what you were thinking. But above all he was met with confusion.

"What's breeding?" You had an idea of the term, usually used animalistically for the subject of... reproduction and maintenance of species. But just to be on the safe side with Miguel, you preferred to ask him anyway.

His lungs swelled like sails, did he really have to go through this?

"Why don't you ask Lyla what it is?" he suggested.

"Because I want to hear it from you, with your words" you assured him, your tone a mixture of strictness and curiosity.

He sighed, biting the inside of his cheek, slightly afraid of your reaction. You were practically hanging on his every word, waiting for him to explain.

"Breeding is... the act of a male and a female animal having sex, also known as mating, to reproduce..." he explained, pausing, "and procreate."

Your eyes widened slightly, and the possibility that he had overheard your previous conversation with Jess came to mind. All the same, you looked at him almost inscrutably, and he couldn't work out what you were thinking.

But now that the words had been said, he could no longer hide, no, he no longer had to hide. His thoughts were finally out, burning on his skin and lips.

He moved forward a little more, his gaze suddenly darkened by the desires he was no longer hiding.

"I want to fill you up with my cum and make sure you get pregnant."

Your lips were parted, your surprised eyes looking into his, black with desire and longing. A silence filled the air, both your hearts beating loudly in both your bodies. Miguel waited for an answer, unaware of the warm cloud that had settled in your lower belly.

He chuckled a little, an understanding smile gracing his lips as he said:

"See, your silence tells me enoug-"

"Breed me," you cut him off.

He stopped moving immediately, the statement immobilising him just like when he had understood what you and Jess were talking about.

Had his mind and his fantasies come together to play tricks on him? Or had you actually agreed with what he'd just said?

"What?" he said, his pronunciation almost slurred as he turned his attention to your next words.

"Breed me, Miguel" you repeated, determined as you swallowed in anticipation. "I want to carry you... in me."

The gleam in his eyes was almost predatory, but after all, wasn't that the very essence of breeding? The raw nature of it, the bestiality, the quenching of the oldest instinct that ever was.

You only had time to see his eyes turn red as he lunged for your lips, kissing you with his mouth wide open as your teeth almost clashed and he attacked your tongue.

The power with which he kissed you made you take a step backwards, but you weren't going anywhere, because Miguel immediately placed his hand in the small of your back to make sure he had you close to him.

He let out grunts between kisses, his hunger for your skin lengthening his canines as they brushed almost dangerously against your tongue.

Then he lifted you in one swift movement, placing you on his shoulder as he headed for the door leading to his quarters, his impatience growing faster than ever. You bit your lip, already swollen from his kisses, his hand gripping your thigh firmly as he led you to the bed.

He laid you down, following every movement of your body as he kissed you again. He stood back for a moment, watching your body.

"Do you have sentimental value for your suit?"

"What?" you asked, confused by the sudden question.

"Just answer," he asked through clenched teeth.

"I mean it's old but I can live withou-"

You hadn't even finished your sentence when he ripped off your suit with an ease that sent shivers down your spine, ripping the fabric covering your cunt, tearing your panties and throwing all the rags into the rest of the room.

"No questions about the sentimental value of my underwear?" you laugh lightly.

"I'll get you some new ones," he breathed, a carnivorous sneer inhabiting his lips, "I'll take great care in chosing them."

You swallowed as he kissed your neck, nestling in and marking your skin with thirst. He straightened to kiss your lips, and whispered against them:

"Turn over, get down on your elbows and knees".

You complied, his instructions increasing the size of the cloud of heat in your belly. You placed your folded arms flat on the sheets, your knees slightly apart.

"Lift your hips for me, nena," he commanded in a tone as soft as cotton.

You listened, arching your back as you lifted your hips, your ass gloriously up just for him to fuck. He swallowed, his hand coming to grip one of your buttocks and pulling it apart, pressing it between his fingers and gripping your skin full hand.

"Already so good and wet for me," he mused, one of his fingers passing between your folds.

Of course you were already wet, the way he had introduced the concept to you making you all fuzzy and warm in your belly. You'd never been against the idea of Miguel being a bit more violent, and to be honest you were excited by the idea of him being so from now on.

Once he'd coated himself sufficiently, he pushed one finger into you, soft moans falling from your lips filling the room. He added another one, and your lust was growing by the second. You were getting impatient too, but you couldn't help noticing that Miguel simply couldn't wait any longer.

Miguel was always very keen about taking his time, preparing you well apart from the few moments when one of you needed a quicky, but here eagerness was getting the better of him, and above all his most instinctive desires buried deep inside him had taken the reigns of all his actions.

The thought of him being in you through your core made him feel so drunk on you. These ideas had already been marinating in his mind for a while, it had only taken this conversation between you and Jess to flip the switch. And he observed in adoration, seeing you like this, underneath him with your much smaller frame, sitting up and ready to take him.

"Hands behind your back."

His orders became more and more urgent, his tone wavering with envy. It was impossible for him to formulate a whole sentence.

So you laid your face on the sheets, cheek pressed to your side as you brought your hands behind your back, joining your wrists together like you were imagining yourself handcuffed. You shivered as his hand, whose fingers had previously been inside you, reached out from between your folds and took both your wrists at the same time, locking them in this embrace. His hand was obviously big enough to hold both your wrists together and prevent you from breaking free from his grip.

He had locked you completely.

He had blocked out any possibility of you making a move other than squirming around him. Miguel would never tire of this control, this hold he had over you right now. You were his, nobody else's, and he would let eveybody know this by fucking his seed into you and get as many babies as you wanted.

That's when you felt the head of his dick coating itself with your juices, preparing to burry himself into you. You couldn't see Miguel like this, but you could hear him. Dark growls vibrated in his throat, deeper than you'd ever heard them before, and it felt intimidating.

He thrust, pushing his tip into you, and you let out a groan of relief that sank into the fabric of the sheets. You breathed softly, letting Miguel's thick, long cock sink into you. No matter how many times you had done it, taken him like that, you still couldn't get used to it.

His lower belly finally touched the skin of your ass, his dick deep inside you. And you felt him pressing against your stomach. You knew that if you brought one of your hands to your stomach, you'd feel the shape of his cock against your skin.

He was so deep in you, an almost bestial growl escaped him as he slowly began to pull back before thrusting in hard.

You let out a little cry of surprise and pleasure that echoed around the room, and he repeated the same gesture. He kept bearing down on you until he touched your slick on his lower belly and pulling away, pushing back in the next second until it'd touch his balls.

Your body was burning, unable to do anything but arch your back more and groan. Your hands were gripping the void, and the impossibility of finding a foothold in all this was making you feel out of control. But you were enjoying the sensations he was giving you, and so was he.

He listened to the symphony of your voice as he picked up the pace, the feeling of your gummy walls wrapping all tight and warm around him was absolute perfection to him.

He knew it wouldn't be long before his first cum would hit, but he needn't have worried. Miguel could go on for a long, long time, and he just hoped that you could keep up, although he had no doubt that his best girl would live up to his expectations.

He could no longer string a sentence together properly, the words he was trying to whisper as he sank deep inside you coming out as if chewed up by his long fangs.

He grunted, his rhythm and the tilt of your two bodies giving you both exceptional sensations. The knot in your stomach tightened, threatening to burst as Miguel came closer.

And the world stopped spinning for a second.

You came together, your walls closing spasmodically around him as you felt him spill into you. Because that's what you wanted, right ? That's the one thing you desired, and he was going to give it to you entirely.

He pulled out, just for the pleasure of seeing the work he had so long dreamed of seeing. And the satisfaction was superb, his white creamy cum slowly pouring out of your wet cunt, still pulsing with desire.

A dark laugh rose from his throat as he sank back into you and you let out a startled moan. He lowered himself, his lips pressing against your ear.

"I hope you thought of six names."

It would be a long, long night.

[ikarakie]

hopper sees steve as a surrogate son. really, he shouldn't make such a habit of picking up stray children, but he looked at harrington and saw a kid who just... needed someone. saw the vacancy in his eyes when he thought no one was looking. saw the police file, the noise complaints and the few reports from hawkins middle school about suspicious bruises that had been swept away. saw a boy who'd seen too much. who just needed someone to lean on.

so he tries to be that. offers the kid a hand every now and then. keeps an eye on him, all alone in that big house, after everything. after '83 and then '84 and then summer of '85, when he'd signed his medical papers because there was no other adult for him around. it always left him a bit hollow, but he told himself that it was okay as long as he was around. as long as steve knew, deep down, that he could come to hopper for help, even if he'd wait until he was on the brink of overload before doing so.

it's all this that makes the sight of steve's car, that brown beemer that had dropped his daughter back home so many times, pulled into a ditch with the lights off cause his stomach to sink. a million awful things come to mind as he pulls in behind it and quickly hops out of his cruiser.

had he seen something and spiralled into a panic? had he gotten a bad migraine? had he run off into the woods alone?

thankfully, he finds the best case scenario: a slightly flushed and dishevelled steve rolling down a foggy window. grinning like he'd been caught with his hand in the cookie jar when he realises it's just hopper. he's fine, he's in one piece.

what's not fine, however, is the person with him in the backseat. eddie fucking munson, a kid hopper's put in handcuffs more than once. not because he's another boy, who gives a shit about that, but because it's eddie munson. drug dealer, general troublemaker, and definitely a bad influence on his boy.

he does his best to save the judgement this time, sensing the fear emanating off the couple. tells them to be more careful, to go home and kiss or do whatever there instead in case anyone else drives by tonight. munson looks at him like he's grown a second head, (which, fair. usually their interactions go a lot less amicably than this) and steve just tears up and nods. he reaches in to ruffle the boy's hair, ignoring the protests, before reluctantly trudging back to his car and driving away.

he calls steve the next afternoon and gets him to confess that, yes, he is dating edward 'eddie' munson. no, it's not a fling. yes, they're boyfriends, god help him. he gripes about it a decent amount, because really, steve? that one? you picked that one? but he keeps the tone light enough that steve feels comfortable enough to defend eddie's honour amidst laughter. within a week he's got steve sat across from him, eddie by his side looking two seconds away from shitting himself.

"well, boys." he grins, cracking his knuckles. eddie watches. gulps. "let's have a little chat, shall we?"

[cherrychilli]

Slip of the Tongue

A mini series I 18+ I Enemies to lovers

Chapter two

Eddie Munson x neighbor! reader

Reader and Eddie are the same age - she's in College and he's repeating his senior year once again.

Chapter Summary: Eddie invites you back to his room for a one on one demonstration of his skills.

A/N: Sorry for edging y'all last chapter. This one's pure smut start to finish. Enjoy💛

Chapter warnings: Oral sex (f), fingering, squirting

Tag list rules:

New additions: Make sure to both reblog the chapter and comment to let me know if you'd like to be added to the list and PLEASE HAVE YOUR AGE CLEARLY LISTED IN YOUR BIO IF YOU WANT TO BE TAGGED. AGELESS BLOGS/BLANK BLOGS/MINORS WILL BE BLOCKED.

Current tag list: Make sure to reblog the chapter if you'd like to remain on the list for future updates.

The stress had taken its toll on you.

Juggling two part time jobs while studying for your college midterms had you running on fumes, unable to unwind no matter what you tried. The little time you had to yourself was usually spent catching up on sleep but that wasn't ever enough to reinvigorate you, not when you had other needs that went unmet in the meantime.

You were desperate for some real stress relief, bordering on delirious. You had to be because how the hell else could you explain ending up in Eddie Munson's bedroom? Lying in his bed, your panties amongst the litter of cassettes and fantasy magazines strewn across his bedroom floor, and said boy's head between your thighs.

"You better not be wasting my time, Munson", you tried your best to sound tough, a near impossible task when his lips are brushing against your inner thigh, so very close to your slit. He had your skirt pushed out of the way to bunch at your waist, large, rough hands wrapped around your thighs which bracket his face.

"So feisty", he cooed back in reply, breath puffing warm against your core.

It's all so painfully surreal, being here like this, but you try your hardest not to think about it too hard for the sake of keeping your sanity intact. About how Eddie's got you laid out and completely exposed, your bare pussy mere inches away from the boy you'd come over to yell at, the same boy who'd caused a fair amount of the tension he's now offering to help relieve with his tongue.

"Don't worry. I'm going to take real good care of you", he breaks you out of your internal spiral, a teasing but lighthearted lilt to his voice as if somehow, he'd sensed your nerves.

And then he says, "You ready?"

It's a simple yes or no question, much easier than the ones you've been pouring over for days in your practice tests but you find this one the hardest to answer. Not because you're unsure of what to say – you had your answer ready and tucked at the back of your throat ever since his fingers climbed up your thighs to tug at the waistband of your panties.

No, it's because you’re certain that when you answer him, everything’s going to change.

"Yeah...go ahead", you manage to wring the words from your throat, fingers clenching his sheets, eyes trained up at the ceiling because watching him somehow feels like too much.

The few seconds that elapse before his mouth descends on you feels like you’re freefalling, a sharp, plunging descent with no way to prepare yourself for the impact of his tongue gently licking at your folds, thighs jerking as he lapped at the slick which had gathered when you watched him play through the window.

"Y' know, for someone who's always in a sour mood you taste pretty fucking sweet", he smirked, knowing it would set you off, thumb momentarily skimming your folds in place of his tongue.

Ordinarily, a comment like that would have earned him a knee to the groin but now, in this maddeningly bizarre situation you've find yourself in the middle of, your body reacts against its usual instincts, hips shifting off the bed to chase his mouth for more.

"Don't stop", you mutter loud enough for him to hear, tone somewhere between commanding and imploring, eyes slipping shut.

You've never felt a warmth like the kind that seeps into your veins like sunlight when Eddie's broad tongue parts your folds, licking his way up to your clit to lightly swirl the pointed tip over your sensitive bud, hands bringing your hips back down to bed to hold them firmly in place.

"Shit, Eddie that's...nice", you sigh out, perhaps the most civil thing you've said to him in weeks.

Everything smelled like him – the sheets, the pillows, even you, you realize as you turned to press your cheek against his mattress, your hair now carrying the same woodsy, smoky scent, inhaling a little deeper to take in that undertone of boyish musk you find yourself strangely drawn to.

His scent.

Another soft swipe of his tongue along your folds has your toes curling but what's makes the fluttering sensation brewing in the pit of your stomach grow stronger is knowing that he's carrying your scent too.

"Oh fuck..."

The way his tongue roams you is slow and lingering, not at all like what you'd watched him do with his guitar but fuck does it feel good, having his fingers press into the meat of your thighs like he’s afraid you might slip through them at any moment, teasing your clit with soft kitten licks, plush lips occasionally trapping the bud to suck lightly before releasing it again.

He's building you up for what's to come, taking his time to find out what makes your breath stutter and your spine curve in an effort to press yourself closer to him, getting you to loosen up and give yourself to him.

Minutes go by like this though you’re not sure how many. Ten? fifteen? maybe longer, of him lazily laving and sucking gently and it's amazing but it’s also only nearly enough, steadily stoking the fire inside you. It’s enough to draw out a soft pants and muffled moans out of you, enough to make all the tension that had wound you so tight begin to unravel but not enough to grant you the release you're seeking.

Chest heaving, you can’t bring yourself to beg, afraid of what you might sound like if you did, a choked whine of Eddie’s name so close to spilling from your lips already. You don’t want to give him the satisfaction of hearing it.

Angling your right foot, you’re able to reach down and press your heel into his waist, not forceful, just enough to make him pull away from cunt, lips sheened with your slick and chin brushing the soft curls on your mound when he peeks up from between your legs.

“Need more already huh?”, he beats you to it, knowing and smug.

As much as you wanted to deny it, you already missed having his mouth on you. Lips pressing into a thin line to show your annoyance, you try to grasp at the right words from the jumble of them knocking around inside your head, hoping to pick the ones that might help you seem less needy than you actually feel, not wanting to boost his ego more than you probably already have.

“What you did earlier when you were playing… that was different”, you point out carefully.

“I know, I’m just getting you ready”, he explains matter-of-factly, eyes dropping back down to your cunt, gently spreading your folds apart with his thumbs with rapt attention.

“I am ready”, you try to argue, a little breathless but firm.

Eddie meets your stern gaze again and gives you a skeptical look in return, holding your stare for a few more seconds as if assessing you before he ultimately yields.

"Alright alright. Listen, uh - this might get a little intense so just um… pinch my hand if it gets too much for you and I'll stop, okay?", he winds one arm around your hip, holding out his hand for you to take.

The shift in demeanor has you slightly taken aback. He’d been so cocky for most this, showing shades of something softer at times but this was the most blatant display of that side of him so far – no sass, no crude remarks, no teasing jab. It was a side you’d seen glimpses of back when you were in school with him, that considerate streak he was sometimes partial to like when he’d taken in those freshmen who didn’t seem to fit in anywhere else. You never thought he’d show you the same kindness, no matter how veiled. Part of you even thought you didn’t deserve it after all the squabbling you’d initiated over the years.

Tentatively, you stare at the hand he offers you, his words echoing in your head loud enough to override your temporary and uncharacteristic bout of guilt.

Intense? Too much for you? Fuck, it's so hard to keep from wanting to grind your core against his face when he says things like that.

"You're pretty confident, aren't you?", you say instead, stalling so that you could discreetly wipe your palm against his sheets before you place your hand in his, afraid yours might be sweaty.

"Yeah, I am. And for good reason", he grinned, curling his much longer fingers around yours as you rest your joined hands close to your belly button, hoping he couldn't feel the storm of butterflies flapping their wings wildly inside your stomach.

“Oh, but first–”

Despite your best efforts, you can’t contain the pathetic yelp he rips from you when he pulls you closer by his free hand, picking your legs up abruptly to get them over his shoulders, spreading you even wider and getting you so close that you’re practically locked in place.

"Eddie-shit", you try to scold but it’s no use.

There’s no more soft, gentle licking when he dives in, tongue moving boldly to pulse against your clit with enough pressure to make your whole chest feel like its crackling with pops of electricity. He’d warned you it would be intense and you learned he was a man of his word, thighs twitching and quivering around his cheeks and curtain of curls. You squeeze his hand instantly, not pinching, he notices, a sign that it’s okay to continue as you throw your head back.

Spiraling again, you’re at a complete loss as to how good this feels. It never felt this good with the other boys and it definitely didn’t feel like this even when you touched yourself. How could someone who’s never touched you until today be able to get you like this so quickly and so easily?

Well, the position certainly helped. You’re entirely at his mercy like this, pinned in place from the waist down, suddenly very aware of how strong Eddie really is, not what you’d expected of someone who spent most of his time occupied with fantasy games. He groans, deep and rumbling, the vibration of it travelling through you while you fight to keep your teeth firmly set in your bottom lip, starting to writhe as he alternates between flicking your clit with his tongue and sucking on it, sloppy, wet, filthy sounds echoing plentiful in his bedroom.

It’s a riot inside your head – two thoughts competing and clashing fiercely; one part of you screams for him to slow down, that it’s all so much so fast despite having asked for it and the other roars back a resounding keep going, oh god, keep fucking going, overtaking the first.

But Eddie isn’t privy to any of this – you don’t want to let him know because even with the way he’s making it harder and harder for you to not just cry out for more, you’re much too stubborn to actually do so – knowing full well that if you were to let on just how much you’re enjoying his ministrations, he’d never let you hear the end of it.

Easier said than done.

Your resolve is withering at an alarming rate, not sure how long you can keep true to your vow of silence when he slips his tongue into your opening, pleasure and relief melding into one now that you have somethinginside you, curtailing the ache of being empty for this long. He fucks you with it, driving it in and out, lavishing you from the inside with every stroke and drag of the slippery muscle against your walls.

“Oh Ed– oh fuck”, you blabber, hips bucking up against his face. You clench around it, clit throbbing in the absence of his tongue swiping over it but the way his nose bumps the tender pearl with every sloppy thrust of your hips more than makes up for it.

He lets you rut against his face like that, only pulling back and away minutes later but you’re not left wanting for long.

A sharp gasp is pulled from you when a finger plunges into you, another joining not too long after. You feel stupid for forgetting how well those fingers moved on his guitar when he curls them inside you, long and thick, reaching deeper than your own, filling you better than his tongue did.

“Shit, listen to you”, he tutted, cunt sopping and squelching loud enough for your whole face to flare up. “Got this worked up just for me, huh?”

He wants to hear you beg; you know it. Rather than replying you whine between ragged breaths, containing the rest that threatened to spill out in moans and cries for more. But it’s nowhere near enough to satiate him now. Eddie frowns, face clouding with irritation. He wasn’t going to let you get away with stifling yourself any longer.

“Tell me how good I make you feel”, he says, tone losing its playful lilt and gaining a firm edge instead, eyes darkening.

“I’ve been real generous with you today – even after all your fucking attitude”, he punctuates with a particularly rough thrust of his fingers into your cunt, another gasp tapering into a whimper falling from your lips.

“Not g-gonna say it…” you tremor, so clearly affected by what he’s doing to you. 

He laughs but there’s no amusement there, only something foreboding glinting in his eyes. “Can feel you, honey – trying so hard to hold back but you’re soaked and you’re squeezing me so tight”, sinking his fingers in up to the knuckles.

“C’mon, I’m not asking for a lot, am I?  just say the words and I’ll let you cum,” he murmured, amber eyes hooded and locked on yours.

“Eddie-”, you start, hating how it came out all pitchy and wavering, hating it even more when you see how much he liked hearing his name leave your lips like that. “You said you would- this isn’t what we agreed- “

“Do it or I’ll stop”, he cuts you off, unsmiling. You can tell he isn’t joking when his pace falters and his fingers still inside you.

The fear of him stopping when you’re already so close rushes in with torrential urgency, no time to feel embarrassed by how quickly or how hard you squeeze his hand when you feel him begin to unweave his fingers from yours to make good on his threat, your steely grip preventing him from slipping away, begging him to stay.

“Please...”, you begin to crumble, breathy and desperate and aching for him to finish what he started.

The smile pulling at his slick lips tells you he’s appeased, pumping his fingers inside you again, slow but deep, stretching you well.

“Go on…” he encourages, speeding up when you let loose an unrestrained moan that comes out all high and pretty for him, helpless to his touch, your building arousal making you grow compliant.

“Fuck -Eddie, I’ve- I’ve never felt this good before”, you relent with a sob.

“Yeah? Poor baby – always working so hard… got no one else to take care of you. Needed it so bad, didn’t you? Couldn’t even control yourself when you saw me today, huh? Climbed in my bed and spread your legs even though you say you can't stand me”, he grins wickedly, tone thick with condescension.

He was right. For years, you were gasoline and him, the match, all of that smoldering friction between the two of you culminating in the most surprising way.

“But now you can’t get enough of me.”, he finished with a sneer.

Something new blossoms beneath your ribs – humiliation.

But instead of trying to shy away from it you find yourself welcoming the way it sprouts up like tendrils, winding around you all slow and creeping, all because you’ve been put in your place, rendered a mewling, gasping, desperate thing by the boy you’ve spent far too much time despising.

“Wanna feel your mouth on me again”, you blurt between pants, a broken, pitiful sound.

“Need you to make me cum – please”

He watches you struggle under the weight of your own desire, willing to debase yourself if it meant he’d grant you your release and it makes him chuckle, satisfied.

“Was that so hard?”, he flashed you one of those impish, shit eating grins before his mouth is on your clit again, fingers driving inside you in tandem. Your free hand shoots out to weave into his hair, clutching it like a lifeline.

The combination sends you careening towards the edge, the feeling starting to become too much when he sucks hard on your bundle of nerves but there’s no way to pull yourself away from him – not that you wanted to. Not really.

Your whole body tenses and ripples when it crests, something white hot barreling its way out of you – too fast and too intense to warn him, cunt fluttering around his moving fingers, thighs squeezing, throat growing hoarse from your cries.

It runs through you in crashing, gushing waves, leaving you shaking and keening, lungs burning for air until breath returns to you slowly, roiling intensity settling down into pulsing aftershocks. They subside when the afterglow comes next and you relish the way it drapes over your quivering body, lips trembling and chanting whispered exclamations of ‘oh my god oh my god oh my god’ up at the ceiling, still reeling from it all. It’s only when the sensation of weightlessness that had cradled you for those moments following your orgasm begins to recede that you spring up, elbows pressing into the mattress to support you, heart shooting up into your throat when you catch sight of Eddie.

And it’s worse than you thought.

His cheeks, mouth, jaw and neck are soaked, as is the collar of his shirt now clinging wetly to the dip between his clavicles. Oh shit it’s in his hair too, noticing a few dampened ends which stick to the fabric near his shoulders.

In the thick fog of your afterglow your mind turns sluggish – too slow to piece together what exactly had happened as your eyes lowered in search of what caused Eddie’s current state. Realization sets in after a few seconds of delay in the form of a swooping, twisting flurry in your belly, worsening when you find the same wetness coating your inner thighs and pooling on his sheets, your ass resting in a little puddle of well, yourself.

You've squirted all over his face and his bed.

"I've never done that before”, you breathe out, both stunned and mortified at what you’ve done. Though your worry lessens somewhat when you dare to look at Eddie again, the look on his drenched face telling you that he’s anything but upset about it.

“I’ve never made anyone do that before”, he utters back, sharing your surprise.

Your hand which somehow had managed to stay clasped in his throughout the whole thing is finally returned to you when you both loosen your hold on each other, awkwardly pulling away enough for you to scoot off the damp spot on his bed and for Eddie to ease up onto his knees, which he realizes a little too late was probably a mistake.

Your eyes dart to it when you hear his sharp inhale, widening at the sight.

There's a new elephant in the room to address now – the massive erection straining against his sweatpants.

Silence shrouds the room, both of you speechless, panting and sweaty. He makes no move to cover himself and you don’t think to set your gaze anywhere else.

You’re not sure why you did what you did next, only that you felt compelled to do so.

Easing up on to your knees, you come face to face with Eddie, skirt falling back down to conceal you. Your fingers move seemingly on their own accord, curling into the waistband of his sweats, fingertips grazing the hot skin that lies underneath and for some reason he lets you, watching you closely albeit a little disbelieving. This wasn’t part of your ‘agreement’. He’d offered to get you off and you had accepted but that was the extent of it, neither of you giving much thought as to what would happen after but here you are, chasing after more.

Inches away from his lips, you can smell yourself on his skin. That tangy, earthy essence he'd lapped at and drunk down so eagerly for the past hour. What made him like it so much? What made him want to do this all in the first place? You wanted to ask him but more than that, fingers tightening on the cotton waistband, daring to dip inside and skim the course trail of hair above his pelvis, you wanted to find out what he tasted like too.

You draw a little closer and so does he, nose brushing his, chin tipping up, eyes slipping shut…

But your lips don’t meet.

Whatever was about to happen is cut short then, the both of you whipping your heads in the direction Eddie’s bedroom door, on the other side of which comes the sound of the front door unlatching and a set of boots stepping through the entryway.

Wayne’s home.

“Fuck”, you exclaim in unison.

Sharing a panicked look with Eddie the two of you begin to scramble quietly off the bed, not wanting to risk alerting Wayne to your presence in their trailer.

You liked Wayne. Despite his gruff exterior he’d always been fair to you and your family but the last thing you wanted was to get caught out in his nephew's room. Like this.

"Shit – I can't believe I'm saying this now but...you have to go", Eddie winced as he whispered to you, looking increasingly more regretful with every word he’s forced to let out in reference to your departure.

"No– It's okay. I get it, I really should leave", you hush back in agreement, looking all kinds of frazzled and just as sympathetic given you bare as much of the responsibility for how things escalated the way they did.

You get your shoes back on as quickly and quietly as you can manage, panic rising when Wayne calls out something from the kitchen about dinner.

“Be right there!”, Eddie yells back, swooping down to pick your panties up off the floor, sheepishly handing them to you and you ball the underwear in your fist, suddenly too embarrassed to let him look at them despite everything that’s transpired.

And with that brief brush of his fingers against yours, a moment hangs over the two of you as you stare at one another, a moment that begs for something more to be said about the situation.

But what could you say?

"Thanks for the head?"

"Sorry about the mess. I hope it doesn't leave a stain?"

Nothing feels right no matter what you try to scrounge up and scrape together from the recesses of your mind so reluctantly, you don’t say anything at all, turning towards the window and letting him help you out through it, a faint sense of something sour washing over you when his fingers slip away from yours.

The walk back to your trailer is a short one but it’s made all the more difficult on unsteady, wobbling legs. Casting your gaze at every neighboring window in search of anyone happening to look outside, you try your best to look as inconspicuous as possible despite your ungainly stride and your disheveled state, scrambling up and through your front door.

Back in your room, slumping against your bedroom door, your thighs are wet and sticky, breath coming out in short, hurried puffs, heart thudding a mile a minute and you have just one thought ballooning in your mind.

How the hell were you ever going to look Eddie in the eye after this?

-

Tag list: @sadlittlesquish @honey-flustered @cryingglightningg @cadence73

[the-offside-rule]

The Leclerc Sister {Headcanons}

Idk I'm just bored and wanna do some headcanons but if you wanna ask for more headcanons for drivers just lmk

(GIF IS NOT MINE: @brasiliangp

Role of each brother

♡ Lorenzo: Being the eldest, Lorenzo would be the responsible and wise older brother, offering guidance and a calm presence. Lorenzo, being the eldest, would naturally assume a guiding role. He'd often help you with important life decisions and be someone you can always turn to for serious advice. He would emphasize the importance of education and career planning. He’d help you with homework, discuss future plans, and encourage you to pursue your goals with diligence. While he might not be as overtly protective as Charles or Arthur, Lorenzo’s calm and steady presence would make you feel safe and secure. He'd quietly ensure everything in your life is running smoothly.

♡ You'd likely share some intellectual hobbies with Lorenzo, such as reading, discussing current events, or exploring cultural activities like museum visits or music concerts. Not to mention that whenever there’s a disagreement between siblings, Lorenzo would step in as the mediator, helping to resolve conflicts with a balanced and fair approach.

♡ Charles: Charles would be your confidant and biggest supporter, always making time for you despite his busy schedule. Charles’s dedication to his racing career would be a source of inspiration for you. He’d teach you the importance of following your passions with commitment and hard work. Despite his busy schedule, Charles would make time for adventurous outings with you, like spontaneous road trips, go-karting sessions, or even just exploring new hobbies together. If you have any interest in motorsports, Charles would be thrilled to share his knowledge and experience, perhaps even mentoring you if you decide to try racing yourself.

♡ He would be there for you during tough times, offering emotional support and a listening ear. His experiences in a high-pressure environment would provide valuable perspectives. Being Charles’s sister would bring some media attention. He’d help you navigate this with grace, teaching you how to handle public scrutiny and maintain your privacy.

♡ Arthur: Arthur, closer to your age, would be your partner in crime, sharing secrets, jokes, and adventures. However, there are often times that the two of you would bicker, leading to the pair of you to try outdo eachother on pranks as a form of Revenge. Arthur’s youthful energy and playful nature would make him a fun and lively sibling. He’d always have new activities or games to share, keeping life exciting. With Arthur, there’d be a sense of friendly rivalry. Whether it’s sports, video games, or academic achievements, he’d push you to be your best, always in a supportive way.

♡ Arthur would introduce you to his wide circle of friends, helping you expand your social network and feel included in various social activities. Arthur would encourage you to step out of your comfort zone and try new things, helping you build confidence in your abilities and interests. If you have any creative interests, like music, art, or writing, Arthur would be eager to collaborate and share ideas, fostering a creative partnership between you two.

♡ You'd have a close relationship with Pascale, your mother, who would be a strong support system and a source of wisdom and comfort. She would help you navigate the complexities of life in the spotlight, as well as a fair bit of telling off when needed. She's had three boys before you and knows how to handle bad moods and outbursts. She tries her best to keep you out of the spotlight and away from trouble, but Lorenzo often reminds her it's only a matter of time before people begin to try and look into her.

♡ Family dinners would be lively events, filled with laughter, storytelling, and delicious food. Each brother would bring their own stories and experiences, making these moments cherished and memorable.

♡ The dynamic between Lorenzo, Charles, and Arthur would create a balanced household. Lorenzo's maturity, Charles’s passion, and Arthur’s energy would provide a well-rounded environment for you.

♡ Growing up with each of them would expose you to a variety of interests and activities, from intellectual pursuits with Lorenzo, motorsport adventures with Charles, to fun and creative endeavors with Arthur.

♡ Despite their different personalities and approaches, all three brothers would be united in their love and support for you, creating a strong family bond that you can always rely on.

[bambinambi]

"I want to be loved, not desired. I want to be accepted, not tolerated."

A look at having lilith in the 11th house

(And Vertex in Punarvasu opposite Venus in the 11th house)

Most men show interest in me by regarding me with lust-filled eyes. Their penetrative stares bore into my body, leaving me feeling bare and exposed despite being fully clothed. I know they covet my body, imagining what lies under the layers I have on.

Their carnal gazes threaten my sense of security. Their inability to hide their desires as spoke to an interpreted innate powerlessness to keep their urges at bay, striking panic into the very core of my heart. I began to resent my sexual desirability to men and reject all and any advances made towards me, even as I came of age.

But then came a boy, who just wanted to be close to me, near me. Not to grope at me inappropriately or throw obscene glances in my direction, or spew covertly suggestive prononcements in my presence. At first, he would silently observe me. It graduated to him seeking me out whenever there was a lull in the shift. He simply enjoyed being around me.

He gazed at me in a manner I had never seen before. Maybe it was awe. Admiration? Despite having learnt and used the English language from the age of 2, I am still not sure which words to use to describe it. I have never had to do so before. All I know is that instead of evoking fear and abhorrence in me, it simply made me feel light and safe.

The tension surrounding us grows palpable. Despite this, I decided to regard it as a mere misinterpretion. How could he sincerely be interested in me? With his blond hair and green eyes and a bevvy of societally beautiful white women within reach, I should have been background noise.

He had an unconscious desire to reach out and touch me any chance he got in the form of light touches. He'd delicately graze my hand, letting his fingers linger for as long as possible, sometimes until I pulled away. He would reach out for my hand to draw my attention to him. He'd gently run his fingers against my shoulders as he passed me by or gently placed his hands on my shoulders to silently announce his presence.

He'd often look at me with a curious expression as if he were gagging how I would respond, his eyes whispering, "Do you feel the same?"

I remember how I would make a point of trying to get out of his way as much as possible before he could reach out to touch me (which he unsually did to implicitly communicate his need to pass by me or need to get my attention). I remember seeing how hurt he looked, which confused me. I thought I was doing him a favour. He didn't see it that way.

Growing up as a black girl, I recognised how my mere existence and proximity to white people would evoke immediate repulsion. They would stare my family and I down at restuarants or school events, as if our presence were a person affront to them. Grazing me would cause them to pull away in horror and revulsion. They would reach out and touch my hair like I was an animal in a zoo instead of a human being. My body was the subject of constant ridicule, I was made to feel like my black features were not meant to exist on my black body. I should have looked like the white girls, and I didn't.

Black boys would rub salt into my wounds by bullying me for any associations my behaviour or appearance had to typical "blackness". No one stood up for me or the rest of our black girls who succumbed to the same harrassment. Not our black fathers who resented that we didn't resemble our mother, with their fair complexion and/or Eurocentric features. Nor our brothers who either participated in our anguish or stood wordlessly by, listening to the rest of the world tear us down, often silently cheering on our tormentors in the stands.

Nor our mothers who often benefitted from the systems that were breaking us down, promoting the colourism and featurism that is so rampede in the black community. How often does one hear of people willingly foregoing their privilege to stand up for what is right? Often, black girls would badmouth each other in the company of others to establish a degree of separation from the others and prove their status of superiority over the other. I internalised all of it.

So when this man unexpectedly showed up, his green eyes boring into my soul like he saw me differently from the way everyone saw me, unabashedly showing me not only romantic interest but acceptance, he completely threw me off my axis. I felt like I was boundless hurdling out of orbit into the unknown. Our mere interactions challenged everything I knew to be true.

I grew weary at first, like it must have been a joke I was not in on. While my brain sought to distance us, my heart inquisitively gravitated towards him. He never showed disgust towards me, only admiration, never insulted me, covertly or blatantly, only sought to affirm me, and on top of all of this, his interest in me was not objectifying in nature.

He began growing closer and closer to me. I began to recognise what I interpreted as a simple dislike for another male employee as jealousy, glowering whenever he witnessed our interactions. I noticed that his generosity was not him extending an olive branch to a fellow colleague when no one else had been granted permission to eat his food or snacks. I realised that his affectionate behaviour was reserved for me solely.

He wanted to be around, even if my presence was all I was willing to give him. He never grew tired of my apprehensiveness, nor showed any ulterior motives as I began to warm to him. His mere existence in my life was challenging so many things I had understood to be the "laws of nature" up until then; "white people will never accept you", "men will only penetrate you deeply enough to reach sexual satisfaction but never your soul" and above all else, "no one in this world will affirm you, you have to be the player on the field and the only one in the stands."

It took this man showing me a gentleness and tenderness to realise that I had every right to want to be loved and treated with respect. That lust and tolerance were not enough, and I would refuse to settle for either going forward.

He wanted to be close to me. So close that I could make out details on his face that I was never privy to before. For instance, I never noticed that his eyes were green, I always lowered my gaze momentarily after making eye contact. I never noticed that his eyes showed so brightly when speaking to me. I never recognised the excitement dancing around his eyes as we spoke candidly, only for it to be snuffed out when our little moments were interrupted. He made no point to pull away when we were close. And so eventually, neither did I.

-

I thought this experience spoke especially to having Lilith in the 11th house as it speaks to being different and ostracised from your community and growing up as a black girl in a majority white community accompanied with the internalised racism and featurism in the black community, I definitely experienced feeling like an outsider and this experience speaks to this.

Anyway, I hope you like this little short story. Tell me if you'd like to see more content like this.

- 26 August 2024

[ladybelladonna76]

Rachel didn't know what her stepdad saw in that stupid girl he was dating

She was obviously hot, but she was also bitchy, vain, and materialistic

Unsurprisingly he'd met this goldigger shortly after the medical negligence payout from her mother's accidental death, at the hands of a drunk quack doctor, when Daddy had been looking for some comfort at the bottom of a whiskey glass in questionable bars

"We're going to have so much fun, Daddy says we can spend whatever we want today, I have permission to spoil us both rotten"

Rachel rolled her eyes

"Let's just get this over and done with"

"Okay Rachey, I promise you're going to love it, this salon works miracles, then we go shopping!", Rosie squealed as she said shopping like some over excited middle school girl on a carnival ride

"Whatever, I'm doing this because DAD asked me too that's all, after the salon you can drop me off home before going out shopping"

"Okay meanie" Rosie pouted

Inside the salon it was as bad as Rachel had feared. This was just a grooming kennel for over primped high maintenance bitches, she couldn't think of one treatment she wanted to try.

"Please try the New U facial treatment Rachey" Rosie whined in her bimbo voice for the hundredth time

"Fine if you'll shut up, at least I get to lay down and relax"

She laid back and the beautician put the mask over her face

The mask started to emit a pulsing wave of light

It feels wrong, invasive, it hurts

She tried to sit up but couldn't move

Her brain felt like it was aflame as the light seemed to penetrate her skull

Suddenly words and concepts started to run through Rachel's head.

Bitch, cuckold, homewrecker, conniving, golddigger, manipulative

Every word brought a flood of images and memories of Rachel as the living embodiment of these words

Rachel knew she wasn't, there was no way she could be, she had never, would never do any of those things, her mom and dad raised her with a strong sense of right and wrong and everything she saw herself doing was wrong.

Rachel could sense new color behind her eyelids even though her eyes were closed tight

More information washed over her, new feelings and ideas.

She had secretly coveted her Step Daddy for years after her mom had married him. No he was always her Daddy, no my Dad, wasn't he?

I'd fucked that gold digging bitch's plastic surgeon behind her back, mommy dearest was fucking him to get a discount so he was fair game.

That's how I got him addicted to drugs and me, I got him drunk, high, and fucked him all night before the day of the surgery. I'd made him botch the surgery

Rachel screamed inside the mask, that's not me I wouldn't, I couldn't, I love my Mommy

Rachel felt her body starting to alter as the new light worked it's magic

She started to groan inside the mask as she felt her body staring to firm and tone, her breasts grew as implants formed inside them, her lips plumped, her nails lengthened into beautiful manicured claws.

Daddy loved her body so much better than her mom's pathetic..

"Oh my God, mom I'm sorry this isn't me, this isn't what I wanted!!"

Rachel removed the mask and looked around for her stepmom

Where was she?

"There's only us Raquel", she thought

This didn't make any sense

"We were always jealous of Mommy since middle school, all her boy toys, her clothes, cars, vacations, we just had to bide our time until we were all grown up and then he could be ours"

He?

Daddy?

Was Daddy hers now alone?

Ever nerve in her body fired in unison at this realization as an orgasm swept through her body

Of course New U Salon's machines didn't really work miracles they only used a cutting edge application of Quantum Mechanics.

They did however merge Rachel and her stepmom's quantum realities

A little tweak here and there, so the Quantum realm remained while and all was perfect with the world again

Another happy customer with guaranteed repeat business and referrals to boot

Rachel was very satisfied

Raquel skipped shopping that day and rushed home to her Daddy

She'd wanted him since he'd first walked into her life with her bitch mother

She spent years preparing for when they could be together. Years studying her mother's manipulation techniques, daily exercise at the gym to sculpt her body into a temple to be worshiped, style to dress in a manner befitting a goddess, oh and sex, how she'd perfected the art of love making and giving, she'd become such a slut.

All to be ready for her Daddy and now he was hers, she'd never give him up

New U Salon really was miraculous

[adrunkskeletonsduck]

Tʜᴇ Wᴇɪɢʜᴛ ᴏғ Yᴏᴜʀ Wᴏʀᴅs | Pᴀʀᴛ 3

➜ Pairing: Aonung x fem!sully!reader

➜ Warnings: kissing, fluff, not properly proof read.

➜ Word Count: 0.9k

➜ Notes: Thank you for 300??? Like this is honestly insane, I appreciate all the love I’ve received for this mini series, y’all are amazing! Please tell me if I forgot any warnings, and a reminder that my inbox is always open for asks!

Also I feel like this is kinda bad...anyways enjoy <3

Pᴀʀᴛ 1 | Pᴀʀᴛ 2 | Pᴀʀᴛ 3

Aᴠᴀᴛᴀʀ Mᴀsᴛᴇʀʟɪsᴛ

Aonung watched from afar as you handed the necklace to Tsireya, a shy smile on your face as she took it from you and examined it happily. She pulled you into a hug with a bright smile, thanking you profusely and complementing your work before tying it around her neck.  

A sense of jealousy bubbled within the boy as he watched the friendly exchange. Since when had you been friends? Let alone friends close enough to gift each other things.  

It wasn’t fair, he thought, that you were gifting things to a practical stranger while shoving him - someone who you knew and had showed very obvious romantic interest in you, or at least to his standards - was being shoved aside.  

He turned away, unable to watch as Tsireya ran her fingers across the finely woven thread and handpicked stones that sat on her neck and walked away.  

Aonung made many more little check-ins on you in the next few days, often times his time was cut short by his own jealousy or sorrow. He was following you around like a lost puppy and although he would never admit it, in the short time you had stopped speaking to him, he had actually come to miss you. You’d been on his mind constantly as he tried to figure out how to fix his actions and make up for his harsh words from the other night.  

“Hey are you even listening?” Rotxo asked as he stopped, planting his feet in the sand and looking at Aonung. 

“What- Yeah of course I am!” Aonung responded, lying straight to his teeth to his bestfriend. He'd only been half listening to Rotxo as he talked about his latest village ‘adventures’. Rotxo opened his mouth to argue that he really hadn't been, when they were interrupted by a body colliding with Aonung. Aonung looked down, a glare set on his face as he got ready to spit venom at whoever had just bumped into him, only for the words to hitch in his throat as he saw who it was.  

That was the other thing, ever since your argument with Aonung, he had been on edge, tense and extra mean. He’d begun picking on your brothers even more, waving off his friends and getting angry over the smallest of things. The boy just didn’t know how to handle losing someone over his own stupidity, and it was eating at him.  

“i’m sorr-” you began to apologize, looking up but you cut yourself off as you saw it was him. Your face fell, jerking your hands back from his torso like he’d burned you and glaring at him. He just stared down at you blankly, unsure of what to say or do – he always felt unsure around you. Suddenly the air felt thick as the two of you stared at each other. Rotxo was quick to pick up on the tension that now surrounded the two of you like an aura, mumbling something about needing to go help his father and running off.  

“Y/N...” Aonung started, and immediately you were pushing past him, refusing to waste your time on another of his bullshit apologies. He grabbed your arm, preventing you from running of and forcing you took look at his pleading gaze and your resolve crumbled. No matter how mad you were at him, your heart still seemed to be in the palm of his hands.  

“What?” you seethed, yanking your arm out of his grasp, “Are you here to tell me how ridiculous I’m being again?” he shook his head, casting his gaze to the ground and swallowing his pride as he prepared himself to be transparent with you.  

“I just – I just really miss you.” He looked guilty and regretful as he spoke, he even sounded genuine. For a moment you wanted to put it all behind you and forgive him because you’d missed him too. You blinked, snapping yourself out of your thoughts and steeling yourself. He didn’t deserve forgiveness after what he’d done. 

“Aonung I already told yo-” he sighed in frustration, mumbling curses to himself. Reaching out, he grabbed you by your forearm and pulled you into him. You stumbled forward, hands placing themselves on his chest, you opened your mouth to ask what the hell he was doing and looking up only to be cut off as he captured your lips with his. Your eyes widened in surprise as he kissed you, your brain short circuiting as you froze.  

Only when you began to feel him pull away did you come back to your sense, slipping your eyes shut and moving a hand to cup his face and pull him back down to kiss him back. He smiled into the kiss, placing his hands onto your waist as he kissed you. Hips molding against yours in a slow flurry of passion, each kiss hotter than the last until he was biting at your bottom lip gently, and then letting it go with a wet ‘pop’ as you pulled away with a small smile.

Pressing his forehead against yours, Aonung spoke,  

“You still mad at me?” he asked, and you nodded with a hum,  

“Very.”  

“I’m really sorry, I just didn’t know how to show you I liked you so I picked on you and I just took it to far, and I have no idea what you're going through but whatever it is I want to be there for you,” he said with a sigh, sincerity evident in his voice as he poured his heart out to you.  

“You could have just told me like a normal person,” you snipped in amusement.  

“Yeah...” he chuckled, pressing a kiss to your temple, “I’ll make it up to you though. I swear.” You nodded in agreement, placing a hungry kiss against his lips as you mumbled,  

“Let’s finish this first.”  

@oomietopia@iam-mentally-unstable@yeosxxx@heartueheartue@lola-bunn1@eywas-heir@sseleniaa@shebeast7121scared@a-romantic-twst

[sleepy-writes-stuff]

DP X DC WRITING PROMPT #20

(#) = Notes at the end of post

(*) = Other ideas relating to the prompt

✦

To Let Sleeping Dogs Lie

Jason stayed dead for about six months before he was resurrected. That left his spirit plenty of time to fully manifest in the ghost zone, but time flows a little weird in the Infinite Realms so it feels like he's been dead a lot longer.

Regardless, six months is enough time for him to make plenty of friends and enemies alike. Enough to fall head over heals for the white-haired boy named Danny who just so happens to also be his king. Enough time for Jason and Danny to finally confess their feelings for each other and form a relationship. Enough time for them to grow to adore each other down to their very cores. Enough time for Jason to become the King's consort and earn the title of Prince of the Infinite Realms.

Not enough time, however, when Jason's spirit is unwillingly dragged back to the broken husk of his body buried in a coffin six feet under. Not enough time when the sheer amount of trauma his body and mind suffered causes his memories of the afterlife to sift out like grains of sand through a colander, mindless in his continued existence and search for a man named Bruce that he only half recalls.

Not enough time for when his body is stolen and dunked into the foulist pools of ectoplasm to ever surface in the living world and he comes back with unbridled rage he only half understands. Where is he? Where was he? Why does green flood his vision? Something is missing but why can't he remember? He shouldn't be here. Why was he here?? (1)

Jason tries to navigate his way through the world he'd previously left behind and discovers what happened after his death. The Joker was still alive. Another child was running around in a traffic light costume in the dead of night. Bruce had replaced him, seeming to forget he ever existed and the consequences of training a child to be a vigilante. That just won't do. He cries. He rages. He plans.

Meanwhile, the King of the Infinite Realms is apocalyptic over the fact that his lover was ripped from his arms, their kingdom, their home. He can sense Jason's torment like echoes in a cave. Can sense when his body enters the fringes of his territory when dunked into the toxic Lazarus waters created by the previous king. How dare they taint his lover's spirit with such filth?! Danny's core rears its head, chanting, growling to protect his soulmate.

Danny is beyond unhappy and he's about to make it everyone's problem.

✦

Notes:

(1) Jason forgets everything he experienced in the afterlife with Danny and is even more confused than he previously would have been when resurrected. Memories only come back to him in bits and pieces when he comes into contact with beings of the supernatural and Danny himself or possibly when he sleeps.

(*) I believe an interesting way to show the events and progression for this prompt would be to switch back and forth between the current events of Under the Red Hood/Phantom's anger and the days they spent together in the Infinite Realms before they were literally torn away from each other. Either as standalone info or through the dreams Jason has as he sleeps but doesn't remember when he wakes.

The events of Under the Red Hood still happen, there's just the question of where he even was for the six months that he was dead added into the equation. Dead on Main tossed in there for flair, because why not? Been seeing a lot of "Jason becomes Danny's Fright Knight" fics, but I wanna see one where they're literally just a royal couple who rule the Infinite Realms with a just and fair hand.

[spectersgirl]

Hey! How's it going? Can u do like where Harvey has a son (like a mini Harvey specter) ?

This is part one of this!

Mini Harvey

Dad!Harvey Specter

------

The morning light streamed through the windows, painting the condo in a soft yellow-orange as Harvey Specter sat at the dining room table, absentmindedly flipping through The Wall Street Journal. The smell of his coffee mingled with the sound of his son's laughter echoing from the living room.

"Daddy, watch me!" The voice belonged to his five-year-old son Oliver, who burst into the room wearing a tiny suit jacket, imitating his father's style.

Harvey glanced up, a grin tugging at the corners of his lips. "Looking sharp, kid. What's the occasion?"

"I'm being a lawyer like you!" Oliver declared proudly, puffing his chest out as if to match his father's confidence.

Harvey chuckled, setting his paper aside. "Are you, now? And what case are you working on?"

Oliver's eyes widened, his imagination running wild. "I'm fixing Teddy's case! He lost his favorite toy, and we have to find it."

Harvey raised an eyebrow, thoroughly entertained by his son's creativity. "Well, Counselor, how are we going to crack this case?"

With all the seriousness a five-year-old could muster, Oliver did his best imitation of Harvey's tone, one he'd heard many times while his dad took calls and allowed him to come into the office on occasion. "We're going to negotiate with Mr. Bunny for clues, and then we'll cross-examine Mr. Puppy!"

Harvey couldn't help but beam with pride. "Negotiations at five years old? I'm impressed. Let's see it in action, shall we?"

For the next hour, the living room became Oliver's courtroom, his stuffed animals all became witnesses and suspects, while he presided as the honorable judge, jury, and prosecutor, all rolled into one.

As the day progressed, Harvey found himself observing Oliver's little antics, each move mirroring his own in miniature form. Whether it was the confident stride or the way he imitated his father's gestures during his make-believe negotiations, it was evident that Oliver was starting to echo Harvey's mannerisms, as much as a five-year-old could.

Later that evening, as Harvey tucked Oliver into bed, the little boy looked up at him with wide eyes. "Daddy, do you like being a lawyer?"

Harvey settled beside him, brushing a hand through Oliver's messy hair. "I love it, buddy. It's about helping people and making sure things are fair. What about you? Do you like being a lawyer?"

Oliver nodded enthusiastically. "I wanna be just like you when I get bigger!"

A swell of emotion filled Harvey's chest. "You know what, bud? You're already amazing just being yourself. But if you ever want to be a lawyer, I'll be right here to show you the ropes."

With a yawn, Oliver snuggled deeper into his blankets, eyes fluttering as he succumbed to his tiredness. "Okay, Daddy. I love you."

"I love you too, buddy," Harvey whispered, watching as his son drifted off to sleep, a smile lingering on his face.

As Harvey quietly exited the room, he couldn't help but feel a sense of pride and warmth knowing that even at such a young age, his son was beginning to emulate him. But more than anything, he cherished the fact that his son was embracing his own unique qualities, with a touch of his father's flair thrown in for good measure.

[harrysmimi]

Still Together, Still Going Strong

Synopsis: One where Harry and YN are getting a divorce but they can't seem stay away from one another

More of my work

YN has never been this mad and upset on Harry.

Why wouldn't she be? When he's ready to throw away a decade they spent together under the bus like that.

It was just five months ago Harry had said he wanted a divorce. Why, you may ask?

Is because he has been feeling he's lost himself. No doubt, that is a valid reason and she respects it. She has been there for him through all his lows she was willing to do so now too. She knows he needs a break, it is not easy to be a parent and have a job which asks so much of your time and energy.

He had his own reasons which by all means are very valid, he's never cheated, he's not cheating now. Nothing made sense to YN.

Every Monday evening when he'd drop off the twins at hers and they're off to bed, he's back to being her Harry. The same soft and living guy she fell in love at eighteen, the same guy who kissed her over and over again thanking her for giving the two most beautiful boys to love and care for.

YN had moved to the flat her parents bought her a year prior she moved in with Harry at his. It wasn't as big as the house which were their home, but it was big enough for her and the little toddlers and the cat Harry and her adopted just when they moved in together. They had been very good at co-parenting considering the twins are just two years old now. She had them for the whole weeks because the boys are just so used to her being around, though Harry came in to see them in between whenever he could.

Living apart felt like a norm, especially to YN as she's so used to her husband (now soon to-be-ex-husband) being on tour so much. She just didn't had her soft space to fall back to now.

He says it isn't her, or the kids. But he can't run away from the kids, unless he verbally says he doesn't want the responsibility of a father anymore— it wasn't him conveying the reasons to her but his legal representatives. He doesn't want to be away from the twins, he's been very firm about it. So it must be her.

YN still can't put a finger on what she has done to probably piss him off so much he wants a divorce now. Though she haven't got the time to think about it either with looking after the twins and working. She had a desk job and her dad's business to look after now thay he's retired, she doesn't get even the weekends to herself.

To make it all worse for her, he still says his I love yous to her, he still kisses like the first time he did, he still calls her by the little weird pet names. Hell, they even made love just last Monday and days he'd visit the twins mid week. This wasn't fair for her. And she didn't know how to process it all.

"Harper." YN ran after the little boy who was running away from eating his dinner whilst his twin was being nice, shirtless in just his little pink shorts. "Come back here."

"No!" Harper squealed but he fell down on his bum laughing.

"Gotcha!" YN announced scooping him up.

"Bum-bum!" He pointed out saying he fell down on his bum.

"Yeah, you did fell on your bum-bum." YN laughed giving him a kiss, she placed him on his highchair next to his brother. "Harlow, do you like it?" The other blond boy was already chomping away at little pieces of chicken and picking carrots from rice in front of him in the bowl.

"Yes!" He announced.

"You're giving your Mummy a hard time, aren't you?" Harry's spoke serving Harper his dinner, he dipped his head down to press a kiss on his boy's head.

"It's okay he's still little." YN spoke walking in kitchen. She knows he's just joking but she didn't like it for what she didn't know, nor she wanted to know. She is just mad. He'd just decided to stay over for dinner like he lives there with them, like they're not getting a divorce in two weeks. Like they're not having their assets divided equally in between. Like the media didn't already knew he's separating from his partner of ten years. It made her so furious just because she haven't gotten the time to sit by herself and process everything. Everything was happening so fast.

"Baby what's wrong?"

"I think you should leave now Harry," YN suggested, as she furious started cleaning around the kitchen, the mess he made in attempt of helping hera. She never mind him making a mess in the kitchen, until now. "I've got work tomorrow."

"I can help put the boys to bed," he offered.

"I don't need it, I just need you to leave my house now." She deadpanned, stopping dead in her actions to glance at him once. Harry was taken back, he glanced at the boys who were busy exchanging their food and eating before he walked back in the kitchen.

YN felt his hands on her hips as he pulled her back from scrubbing the counter like it's got some deadly disease on it, she watched as blood rush back to her finger tips on the release of her death grip on the wash clothe. She didn't liked the way his hands felt on her body for the first time, it felt so wrong.

"Look at me," he requested. For a moment there YN found herself leaning into the warmth of the palm of his hand cradling her face.

"Don't, don't touch me," she reluctantly pulled herself away, "I don't like it no more." He would kiss her there, she'd give in and they'd be huddling their way to the bathroom leaving the twins to eat their dinner.

And she proceeded to clean around. Cleaned up the twins and put them in their PJs and finally off to bed they went. Harry still lingered around, he cleaned up the highchairs and put them away, until YN came back out.

She sighed in defeat seeing him still sitting at the dining table, like he did whenever he managed to piss her off waiting for her to cool off before he could go talk to her. He did more than just piss her off now. She walked back to her bedroom and sbut the door behind her getting ready for bed. She pulled out her laptop to email her boss about wanting to take her yearly paid vacation, her leave was going to be accepted as she's that annoying employee who has to be forced to take days off. She even proceeded to call her parents to ask of she could go over and stay with them for a couple of weeks with the boys. Luckily for her, they lived just four hour drive away from her in Kingston. They didn't knew Harry and YN were getting a divorce until it became a public affair, of course they said she could go live with them for as long as she wish for.

Was she overreacting on this? Hasn't she been so understanding about the reasons Harry gave her for their separation? But was it inevitable not to be heartbroken? She had never grieved for anything or anyone before, is it really this overwhelming? This overwhelming that she has to cry?

She took in a deep breath and wiped off the tears which had managed to trickle down her eyes when she heard the door crack open. The boys liked to sleep in her bed, close to their Mummy. Something Harry isn't a fan of but she cherishes a lot. All it would take for him to give in was three pairs of doe eyes begging him and he'd be scooping up the little humans onto their bed and tucking the under the sheets. The boys are well aware that it is easy to butter their Mummy than it to their Papa, they only request to sleep in with her when with her. Smart little toddlers!

It was Harry, he still hasn't left yet. He just closed the door behind him carefully as the twins are light sleepers like their Mummy, he proceeded to take a seat in front of him on her bed. No words were shared as he just looked at her trying to figure where he should begin. He didn't know how to approach this. She is not going to say a word, he knows. They're both stubborn when it comes to confrontation.

"YN," Harry cooed trying to reach for her hand.

"You're a fucking hypocrite!" She snapped, swatting his hand away with a jerk. "You say one thing and do the complete opposite of it. Just stick to one thing! You want a divorce then set up some boundaries for fucks sake. What part of divorce do you not understand?"

"I'm trying to be there for the boys, what are you talking about?"

"I am not saying you are. I want you to stop being around me, okay? I want you to stop making it harder for me than it already is." She made it clear, "I don't want this. I don't want you touching me, I don't want you kissing me, sleeping with me, I don't want you to say you love me."

"But I do love you," he rushed, "doesn't mean we're getting a divorce that I don't love you anymore. I can never stop loving you, I don't think I can even do that. I gave you my reasons. We're separating mutually, aren't we?"

Answer to his question was, no. It's not mutual. She's agreeing just for his sake. She doesn't want a divorce, she wants to work through it.

He was coming home late after being out with his friends, drunk and high his ass off after long studio sessions now that he's been writing his new album, he never bothered anyone and went straight to bed. Whilst YN didn't liked that, she still let it slide for a month and a half. It started getting on her nerve when he'd be grumpy all day with a major hang over, she snapped when he yelled at the boys who were just wanting to play with him. It was the very next day he told her he wants a divorce and left for the studio.

"Be honest with me, do you not want it?" He asked when she said nothing. "YN?"

"No!" She exclaimed, "I don't want this. Why would I want to break a relationship that we spent a decade to make perfect? It's just not me and you anymore, we have two little ones now."

YN's trying hard not to break down in front him. Whatever it is he does not need to see her cry, and it usually made her feel weak. It usually is easy for her to cry bit deal with everything which comes her way calmly without a breakdown. She felt the sinking feeling in her stomach, physically.

"I am going to go stay with my parents for a couple of weeks." She shared, "you can come over to see the kids and I think you should leave now." She walked over to the door to open it for him. He's got no other option than to leave. It's better he did that and get his shit together for him to talk about this.

......................................................................

"YN, come help me." Her dad said, he carried the gardening tools. Twins were out with their grandma and Aunty for grocery shopping. She was lied on the sofa staring at the ceiling as some episode of Friends played in the background.

It's been a week and half and YN's fallen sick as she expected. It was meant to happen with how overworked she has been, she's had a fever and has been throwing up every morning. She has been sick and more lost especially today since morning.

Her parents haven't bought up the topic of her divorce yet, they can still see how it has been affecting. God, how they didn't liked him for their daughter at first. They had no idea how much she loved him, that for the first time she rebelled against them. It wasn't just her teen phase, they came to realise soon enough.

"Do you want me to take you to doctor again?" Her asked.

"No, I'm fine now." She shrugged and started with cleaning out dried out leaves from her dad's garden.

"How do you like these? Harper picked this." He showed her the new rose plant he'd got just yesterday when he took the boys out so she can rest.

"Good." She nodded. "I, I want to go sleep."

"Okay, did you take you medicines?" Her dad enquired.

"No, I, I'll take it." She assured him before she walked inside, just as she was about to go to her room she saw the mess that was her sister's room. Her kids were sleeping in her sister's room because she was sick. Toys everywhere. Not that her sister was rhe tidiest person she knew, she still picked up after her toddlers.

"Mumma!" Harlow came running to her followed by Harper, both of them tackled her with hugs. "Nani gave chocolate!" He showed a tiny packet of Reeses cups, his brother got one too.

"Yay!" She celebrated, "did you say thank you to Nani?"

"Yes!" Harper nodded, "open, pwease?"

They'd already had their lunch so YN opened the chocolate wrappers for both of them, had them sit down with their toys. There were so much to play with at their Grandparents' place, but the boys hardly fought over the same toy. When her sister got back to her room, YN went back to hers to get in a nap.

"YN?" She heard her mum calling her from the living room. Sighing she got out of bed to check what her mother had to say. "Harry's here to see the kids."

"No, I'm just here to talk to you for now." Harry rushed, "would you please?" He gestured her to go out with him. She walked him to her room. "Baba told me you're sick."

Yeah, he called her father Baba.

"I'm sorry." He started, "never asked you if you wanted this."

"Thank you." She nodded, now sat on her bed.

"I was just being stupid." He admitted crouching in front of her, "but I never lied when I said I feel like I've lost myself. You know we never talked about boys until recently to anyone. It felt like I was living two different lives. It is very hard, I feel so guilty that I can't be there for you and our babies but I also love to tour and be on stage." He voice cracked as his eyes brimmed with tears, "it looked easy to do this. Guess I was being selfish with choosing what I want, I don't know how I feel about it yet. I just needed a break to get my shit together. Can't stay away from you, I realised, or I can't stay away from our boys. It's just that I haven't been able to give the three of you much of my time, but also don't wanna stop touring."

"All this while you've been nothing but so supportive of me, I am so sorry I didn't realise you'd support me through this too. You respected the reasons I gave you which I now call bullshit. You don't want this yet agreed to it. You've been through all the highs with me, guess I didn't wanted you to be through the lows. Just want you to be happy and not worry about anything. I am sorry lovie, I don't want it anymore. Still want to be with you." He grabbed her hands in her lap, "you think you can forgive me, please?"

He looked just like the boys with his doe eyes looking up at her (or you can say the twins are xerox copy of him), he was crying. Tip of his nose turned pink, same shade as his lips.

"You need to take a break, from everything." She spoke, "it's not stupid or bullshit to feel overwhelmed, okay? You don't have to make a choise between what you love, it's not how it works. You're an amazing father to the boys. It hurt me so much that you didn't wanted to be with me anymore, did I do something? Do you not feel attracted to me anymore? Have you fallen out of love with me? Is there som—"

"No, no, no, no!" He rushed cutting her off mid sentence, "It's not that, I don't know why I said I want a divorce. God I love you and only you. It's just you. Please, please, please don't ever think about it!" He brought her hands to his mouth pressing little sloppy kisses on her knuckles as he sobbed quietly, he didn't even imagine it would come out this way to her. God he never even looks at anyone else other than her. It was a stab in his heart that she thought he's in love with someone else. Hell, he's on his knees for her now! "Let's take it back. I don't want to get a divorce. Don't want you to leave, please!"

He broke down sobbing even more when she pulled him in a warm embrace, he just cried with his face buried in her chest like a baby. His arms wrapped around her like he's falling off a cliff.

Harry honestly didn't know why he did that, why he let things go this far with the divorce. God he couldn't imagine his life without her. He loves her too much. He thought maybe he could have one less thing to feel guilty about if they separate. But he was proved very just this morning when he went to her flat to see the kids and also her just to realise she's at her parents, four hours away, he straight away drove to her.

It scared him. Even though she was still close by yet he felt like she's out of reach. He's never felt that way before, cal him overdramatic for acting on this as fast he could and go back to her. Her dad was probably mad at him as he texted him about how sick she's been, turned out he was just telling him how YN is doing. He also missed his little boys.

"We're never going to complain about you not being there for her," she started speaking for the kids as well, "they love you Harry, so do I. We'd nothing but for you to be happy with us. Don't want you to feel guilty, you're a dad now doesn't mean you have to feel pressured to leave what you love to do. I knew what I was signing up for when I said yes to be with you, never once I thought you were a bad partner. I don't know where it all came from, but I love you so much. We're going to work this out, I'm not going anywhere, our boys are not going anywhere, okay? I promised you, didn't I? Through highs and lows."

"We are!" He said, firmly as he pulled away enough to look at her sniffling. "I love you so much!" He peppered her face with more sloppy wet kisses before pulling her in a bear hug. It was her turn to cry her heart out, feeling the assuring weight of his hand on the back of her head, his finger flexing in gentle strokes on her scalp. "Hey, it's okay, we'll be okay." She wrapped her arms around his middle tightly.

YN's been a mess since Monday and it's only Thursday, especially since her last doctors visit with her mum. She has been going through same symptoms she went through when she was pregnant two hears ago, sore breasts, nood swings, nausea, morning sickness. God she was put into such a bad mental space when the doctor suggested she takes a pregnancy test. There were chances she was pregnant, her and Harry were still having sex being careless about using the right protection, she hasn't got her period in a month. But YN's also been a hormonal mess since giving birth, breastfeeding and then stopping to breastfeed, that messed up with her periods too.

On one hand she wanted the test to turn out to be positive so she can just have her husband call off the divorce thinking about another child, the selfish and cruel side of her spoke. On other hand she didn't wanted it to be positive because she just can't bear another pregnancy after such a short time, physically. Especially since her first one has taken such a huge toll of her. The first time she was pregnant, she had twins.

She was glad the test came out negative. She started with her period the very next day, explaining her nausea and sore breasts. That also explains her breakdown in the moment.

"Hey sweetheart, it's alright." He assured her trying to calm her down, "no, no you're gonna get more sick." The last time she cried like this was when she failed one of the most important entrance exam for the course she was wanting to take up and made herself sick. He worried.

Harry noticed it's started to get dark outside, they've been locked in her bedroom for so long talking it all out. He heard the twins screaming and squealing outside, probably playing with YN's brother and sister. "Baby did you fell asleep on me?" He checked on his wife who hasn't moved in a long moment. She was letting letting endorphins settle in her.

"No," she pulled away enough to look at him, "I didn't."

Should she tell him about the test?

"I, I had to take a test on Monday." She started nervously glancing at him before he fixed her gaze on her hands in her lap, "it came out negative."

"You wanted it to be positive?"

"I don't know," she sighed, finally looking up at him he was sat back on his heels now, still close enough to her. She flet bad for even thinking of guilt tripping him into staying there. But did she also had the heart to tell she doesn't want to separate in the first place? When he told her he's been overwhelmed with responsibilities.

"You want to take a nap?" He asked, "we can go out to get dinner, just us, later?"

"I don't want to go out." She shook her head, "don't feel well."

"That's okay, I want you to take a nap now, hmm?" He proceeded to pull back the blanket on the bed and slip off her house slippers off her feet, urging her to lie down. So she did. "They're having fun outside, don't worry about them just get in some rest, sweetheart." He cut her off before she could even utter a sound, he tucked her in softly.

"Harry, I—"

"We'll talk more later, baby, I promise." He interrupted her again, but watched her face turn into more of an angry one, "just want you to rest, look at you, sunken eyes, runny nose. Okay, what is it?" He rested his head on her pillow as he scooted closer to the bed still sitting on the floor.

"I wanted it to be positive, the test at first." YN shared. She just can't keep things which are bothering her to herself.

"I don't think we should have another baby. Did you wanted one?"

"No, I don't think I can do it again. Not this soon. Be pregnant I mean. I thought, this is so very wrong, I thought if it were to turn out to be positive you'd change your mind about this. Be—because I didn't know how to tell you I don't want to get a divorce." She stuttered, as new set of tears pooled in her reddened eyes. "Sorry."

"It's alright. Why didn't you wanted to tell me you don't want that?" He cooed, his hand running soothing strokes on her back.

"Because..." She sighed as she trailed off, "because you said you were overwhelmed by everything. I didn't wanted to hold you back when you wanted one less thing to worry about."

"Well, I was very wrong." He started of with a firm statement, "I felt like I was just a bad husband to you, the worse one to ever exist. I mean, I can see it clearly now. You've been overworking yourself..."

"You're not." She commented.

"Yes, I am. Cancelled my tour, I want to try this and put the boys and you first for now." He shared, "I don't want to hear anything about it, I want this and will not complain about it, I promise."

He knows her way too much, doesn't he? He can really tell what she's about to say just by looking in her eyes.

"You really want that?" She still asked.

"Went regularly to see my therapist last week, talked to her about this. I realised I really want this. She really helped me through when I was confused. Lemme do this for me, for us, yeah?" His voice was nothing but assuring. Now he rarely talks whereabouts of his therapy sessions, to anyone for the matter of fact, but when he does it's when he's made firm decisions which he plans to stick to. Though YN would have supported him if he still wanted to go on tour.

"Okay." She agreed.

"Can I get a kiss? Missed you so much!" Harry was already leaning in but she pulled back.

"Don't want you to get sick!"

"I don't care." He shrugged, dipped his head lower to press a gentle kiss on her mouth. "I love you."

"I love you." She leaned into his touch, little puppy kiss they shared.

"You want to come home?" He asked.

"I want to stay here for the rest of my days off." She shook her head. It was just going to clear her mind and give her some rest now, plus she doesn't feel like driving back to Hampstead when one of her organ is literally bleeding haywire.

"That's alright." He nodded, "are you going to come back home on Monday then?"

"Mhmm." She nodded. He gave her another firm kiss on her mouth.

"Rest now, okay? I'll go see our babies." He gave her yet another kiss, before he reluctantly walked to the bathroom to wash off his face first. He headed out to see Harper and Harlow.

"Yay, Papa!" Both of them went running to him as expected.

Harry was gonna be pulled y YN's dad to a side to give him a bug talk. He could sense it. Her dad is protective of her. Harry wouldn't blame him, he'd do the same if anyone to hurt his kiddos. So he braced himself.

To his surprise, he was forced to stay over for the weekend with the family. They never brought up the topic of divorce which was now being scrapped, though all of them were happy to hear they're planning to stay together.

YN knew people online are gonna hate her, if they didn't already that Harry cancelled his entire tour just because he wants to give his family the time and love they deserve from him. Also the pull back from divorce was gonna divid his fandom into two parts for sure, just like their wedding did.

YN and Harry both got married at just the age of 19 and 20, which was their own decision after dating of year and half and he was still in the band. Very young indeed but it was their decision. It wasn't taken very well by the media. But who cares?

They're still together and going strong!

N O T E :

1) I wrote this in like few sittings. Sorry if there are any typos or words missing. 🥺 I didn't proofread this.

2) Hope you liked this one.

3) Pls lemme know what you think, what Harry should have done in your opinion?

Tag list:

@vrittivsanghavi @buckymydarlingangel @sweetwritingfanficfriend @theroosterswife24 @sleutherclaw @melllinaa @michellekstyles @sunshinemoonsposts @marialikescherries Lemme know if you want to added to the tag list

[coolfire333]

Still thinking about the mercs as parents...I'm being really indulgent and assuming they're all good with kids in their own way, in the sense that they really would love a child of their own (even if they're terrible influences or let their kids do dangerous things) but anyway here's my thoughts on each of them as dads:

Scout: not used to being responsible for someone else since he's everyone's favorite youngest child of 8. He's a bit awkward with it and scared at first but he'll catch on eventually. He's not the best influence though and definitely teaches his kid things that shouldn't be taught to young children. Family means a lot to him considering his own dad left early in his life so he'll always try to be there for his own kid

Soldier: who let this man have a child. He loves his kid with all his heart but he is a terrible influence in the sense that he doesn't understand how fragile children can be until they get older. He tries his best and likes roughhousing and playing strategic games like capture the flag so at least he's fun to be around

Pyro: surprisingly good with kids! He's got a childish whimsy that translates very well into keeping children entertained. He'll probably play pretend with his kid for hours if you let him. He'll teach his kid all about the usefulness and beauty of fire (and probably commit a ton of arson in the process so he's not exactly an ideal role model)

Demoman: very loyal to his family (despite how messed up his backstory with his parents is) so he'd do anything for his child. Not the most attentive dad in the world but he tries his best and would never do anything to hurt his kid. He is very chill and goes with the flow when it comes to parenting. He's fun at parties and would love to pass the time having a drink with his kid on the porch in the evening

Heavy: he grew up with little sisters so he loves kids and pretty much knows exactly what to do. Most responsible merc when it comes to parenting by far. Loves his family so he'd really find it special to have a kid of his own, he'd probably worry a lot but once the initial fears subside he'd be a great dad. If he has flaws it's that he'd very much baby a kid past an age where that'd be appropriate or wanted so that may seem a bit condescending (he's only doing it because he's extremely protective though)

Engineer: he doesn't entirely know what to do at first but he's very genuine about it. Loves helping his kid make things and playing music together. Would totally kill it at a parent-child science fair making all sorts of weird gadgets that do new (and probably terrible) things. He's got a pretty big heart and is generally pretty tolerant of things that other parents would be annoyed with

Medic: who let this man have a child (part 2). Besides the obvious concerns of him using his own kid as a guinea pig for all kinds of weird experiments he'd actually be an ok dad. Very proud of his child and pays very close attention to stuff like growth milestones. Also would totally kill it at a parent-child science fair. Probably helps his kid make all kinds of weird Frankenstein-esque, cobbled-together toys and is very blunt about the whole "circle of life" thing

Sniper: oh man he has no idea how to do this properly, he's just gonna try to remember how his parents raised him and give it his best shot. He's a bit distant but always makes sure to spend quality time with his kid even if he doesn't say much. Probably takes his kid out for archery lessons, just in case his talent runs in the family. He felt awkward growing up (never knew he wasn't actually Australian by birth) so he makes sure to never treat his own child as less-than

Spy: oh boy. Assuming he actually sticks around to raise a child (this time), he'd actually be a decent dad. He definitely overthinks things, is very strict and overprotective, and is kinda a "no fun allowed" type compared to the other mercs in that he wants his kid to have the most normal and safe life possible. Spends time and effort on a good education, especially regarding the finer things in life. He prays that his kid doesn't "end up like him" despite not really elaborating on what he means by that. Overall he doesn't trust himself to raise a child properly but if forced to he's actually more than capable of it

Anyway these are just my thoughts. Again this is probably not the most realistic but I'm oddly optimistic about this kind of thing, plus I think it's interesting and kinda funny tbh imagining how the mercs might be as fathers :)

[luvrodite]

TAKE FLIGHT JASON TODD (college!au)

↳ headcanons about jason in the au that is currently taking up all my brain space. so incredibly self indulgent. extreme liberties taken with his characterisation i'm sorry this is fanfiction!!!!!

first and most importantly - nothing (too) bad happens in this au. i imagine him getting adopted by bruce, but he gets to live and be happy and he is so so loved and that doesn't change

if he's got issues with his dad it's normal human issues like not seeing eye to eye on things but at the end of the day he is cherished and bruce supports him in everything

so he goes to university. in this au i imagine him to be studying literature (of course, duh) but also something else. i feel like he'd be interested in philosophy, but in my mind it's definitely something in the humanities faculty.

moves out but doesn't do the dorm thing because he wants his own space, and i think bruce just takes care of everything and he doesn't have to worry about rent or groceries or anything of that sort

i think he'd still get a job though...like maybe in a secondhand bookstore or music store that nobody really goes to so it's quiet and he can work on his assignments and read most of the time

makes friends with the regular people that breeze in and out - likes to people watch because he gets so many interesting looking people that come through

i think he'd have to have a little old lady neighbour that doesn't trust him at first because look at him he's so tall and big and he's got his fair share of scars on his hands from high school

but he's an angel...probably helps her take in her groceries quietly and leaves it at that because that's simply the thing to do

like i don't imagine he'd be extremely chatty, but he's polite and says hello to everyone or nods at them in the elevator

she warms up to him and they have conversations in the morning when she’s going down for her daily morning walk and he’s got classes to head to 

imagining him with still slightly messy curls in the morning as he walks onto campus

he's so.. boy. in this au. does that make sense??? just. happy and stress free, and he loves his courses and he calls home every few days and his younger brothers are ever suffering because he talks so much about the stuff he’s learning 

sobs he’s such a nerd i love him but they’re just wondering how this is the guy that gets side-eyed everywhere he goes 

but he’s not mild mannered…he just minds his business

like i said, has gotten into his fair share of fights at school and similarly isn’t afraid to tell someone when they’re being a dick 

the girls in his class love him because he actually likes to have discussions with them instead of talking over them and is happy to speak for the group or let them do it if they want when they get called on for class discussions

he’s just that guy who at first glance seems a little intimidating because a) he’s gorgeous and b) is huge but you get put into a group with him and he’s so intelligent and polite, listens to what everyone has to say and has wicked smart opinions of his own to share

has a bike. in every iteration of jason he must have a motorbike i just cannot imagine him without a bike. nearly gives bruce a heart attack in this au because he immediately runs through the worst case scenarios and it takes AGES before he accepts it even if he does think the bike looks cool and it takes even longer before he lets jason take him for a spin on the back of it

bruce in this au is just. doting and a little anxious about things. and that's okay. he's coming to terms with his kids growing up, and the changes that come with that. at least he's still got his girls, who will never not come around to bother him. but dick has already left the nest, and jason is on his way. he just misses when they were little

he likes to say jason was so small he could hold him in the palm of his hands (a big lie, as he was small but not that small, but jason secretly likes the affection)

he scribbles in all his class assigned novels, notes filling up the margins and the blank pages at the end - annotations on annotations

has gone down a rabbit hole of literature papers analysing different texts at 3 am. several times

paperbacks on his bedside table, bookmarked with receipts and scraps of paper, literally anything that can be used - he'll use it

notebooks for each class that are equally as full, coordinating notes on books and poems and papers

sigh english student jason todd my beloved angel 

this isn't meant to be taken seriously at all, but we're here to have a good time. sigh i wanna make a moodboard so u guys can see the vision i have of him

[justcallmecj]

Seeing Your Dragon Form: Staff

There's nothing romantic about these interactions. I left the ones with the boys kinda either romantic or platonic, but for the staff, it's strictly parent/child dynamics. Here, you are just close with these staff members for whatever reasons (they know other students are scared of you because of what you are is how I'm gonna write it for my own sake) Anyway, they all have parent/child dynamic with you. Also, these may suck because I don't have a very good grasp on the staff's personalities.

Headmaster Crowley

Honestly, Crowley still doesn't know how you and him have gotten so close. And, neither do you really.

But, he's not complaining. He actually sees you as nice company compared to the interesting students of Night Raven Collage and his fellow staff members.

Now, Crowley is (probably) an old soul and has seen his fair share of things from all over Twisted Wonderland. But, much to his own shame but also not his fault, he hasn't seen a draconic fae be a dragon. Fae keep to themselves and draconic ones are few and far between.

Because of this, while he will never admit, he was thoroughly frozen (pun unintended) in shock and amazement when he just so happened to across you mid transformation when he was taking a midday stroll in the woods.

He understands that you are a taller student and he understands that a part of that is because of your dragon lineage, but the thought that that might translate into the size of your dragon form didn't cross his mind.

He also didn't know what to do. This whole thing was a chance meeting and as far as he knows, you're unaware of his presence. Should he step into your line of sight and attempt to speak with you? Or should he continue to stay behind this tree and either leave or watch from a distance.

He opted to stay and watch, not knowing how you'd take to this ordeal and his own curiosity getting the best of him.

To bad for him, both your dragon and fae senses picked up on his presence even before transformation, you simply didn't care.

You turned around, icy wings spread out onto the forest floor, and faced him, making direct eye contact.

The Headmaster yelped in surprise, but not fear. Deciding there was no reason to stay hidden now that he knew you were aware of him, he stepped out and came forward.

Crowley was loud while he held a one-sided conversation, which was expected, but he was also calm and slow, which was surprising. Because of his prideful attitude and overall personality, it's sometimes easy to forget that this man is still an educator and a man who has kept this school running for who knows how long.

Looking back on it, long after he went back to work and you took a nap in the forest, he seemed to know exactly what he was doing in his own actions. Maybe it's the constant handling of rowdy beastmen or his extensive knowledge of Twisted Wonderland's people and abundant species, but he was quick to adjust to the situation while giving on air of someone not even trying.

"Now, aren't I oh so gracious? Taking time out of my busy day to see you and even learn some new things?" You knew he was lying, that he had been out here on a pleasure walk. But, the way his smile under the crow mask curled up in genuine happiness, you could let it pass.

Crewel

Crewel is really fond of you.

This started when he managed to get you to agree to modal and help design clothing for people that have animalistic features. He'd been struggling to design clothes that worked with people that have wings or large tails and you were happy to help.

Because of this bond, he became a type of protector when he realized your fellow classmates were either messing with you or scared of you due to being a draconic fae. He'd scare off any students who tried to mess with you and let you stay in his classroom after class or after school if you needed a break.

Crewel voiced his curiosity of your dragon form one day when you and him were in his room discussing some mechanics to help wings fit through clothing without it tearing. And, since you had come to trust this man and he treats you like a father, you decided to indulge him.

He had to use his coat to cover his face when the cold mist swept over him.

The first thing that caught his attention was your wings, the very things he had been studying earlier today. They were much larger than when in human form and even had sharp, icy spikes on the tips that were only slightly visible in human form.

Would he have to take into account any transformations when making his new clothing line or does magic protect all clothing when it happens? Oh well, that's something he'll have to find out later.

He truly couldn't understand how other students could be scared of you. You were very beautiful in human form, your features not being the only thing that convinced him to ask for your help. But, even in dragon form, that beauty remained, albeit in a very different light.

The smoothness and pale color of your scales, the glistening ends of your horns, the spikes running down your back and even the glint in your e/c eyes. It was a type of beauty he was unused to, animal in nature but also strikingly human.

Really, how could someone ever be scared of you or ridicule you? Maybe you could be dangerous, if prompted or your life was in danger, but he knew you were a gentle soul.

After transforming back into human form, he carefully studied your clothes (some he had designed with your helpful insight) and beamed with pride when he found no tears or stretches. "Well, I must say, I think we did our job wonderfully, Little Pup."

Trein

Trein only got to know you the way he has because you started talking to Lucius(if you remember one of my earlier chapters, I had Y/N take Animal Linguistics) and the cat familiar seemed to take a liking to you.

I vaguely remembers Professor Oski mentioning you one day in the teacher's lounge, something about teaching you his snow cloud spell.

You two got to talking after that, usually with Lucius starting the conversation and it evolving from there, until you and him eventually started conversations on your own.

Sometimes, you remind him of one of his daughters. Lucius was the one who told him your relationship with other students and he couldn't help but think of when one of his daughter was in a similar situation.

When Lucius told him that he wanted to go see you in dragon form, because you had told him that's what you were doing after school, Trein really couldn't say no to the fond look in his familiar's eyes.

Trein has seen many animals and creatures, from house hold pets to magical familiars, but a full grown dragon is not one of those creatures. However, when someone else may be panicking at seeing a creature the size of you, Lucius was not fazed in the slightest, and, him being Trein's familiar and the two having a spiritual bond, it calmed Trein's own human instincts of fight or flight.

Plus, he could still see, in those large, sharp eyes, the young fae he has been teaching all your long. The child who never hesitated to talk to Lucius despite how other students see it as weird that the cat seems to mimic it's master's words during lessons. The child who spoke cheerily of the friend's they've made. The child who reminded him so much of his own daughters.

"See what I was talking about, Trein?" Lucius meowed. Trein truly did see why his familiar was so fond of this child. Staring up at the long snout pointed at him, he saw no difference between this dragon and the child he's taught in his classroom. "Right as always, Lucius."

Vargas

Vargas took an interest in you on the first day of school.

He immediately understood you were a fae, and he knows that fae are known for their incredible strength even when they look unassuming. Take Lilia Vanrouge for example.

He had high hopes for you in this class, and he was right to do so. He encouraged all his students to never hold back in their talents, so it came as no surprise to him when you quickly outran most of your classmates and were capable of lifting more than them for longer periods of time.

One class, he even pulled you aside and requested that you start training more with your wings during class so he can make sure you are truly making full use of all your strengths and capabilities.

At first, you didn't think he'd be able to properly train you due to him being human but he quickly proved you wrong. Apparently he hasn't been teaching at NRC and not picked up a thing or two from the non-human students.

He even, actually quite happily, agreed to your request to stay after school some days to further your own training. It was on of these days that you, while deciding to mess with your coach for pushing you just a little too far recently, suddenly changed forms mid-flight.

You actually knocked him onto his butt when your giant form hit the ground and he was still stuck in shock at the transformation.

But, even that didn't faze him for long. He quickly jumped to his feet, dashed over and began inspecting the new form, trying to pick out just how strong you'd be in this form compared to before. (Quite a bit stronger if you're wondering.)

This new revelation, which you thought may spook him enough to go a little easier on you, did quite the opposite. Instead, he encouraged you to take the form more often during your after-school training sessions. To practice flight and see if spellcasting was manageable. Heck, he even set up some different training supplies for you to practice your ice breath and powerful tail on.

Unbeknownst to you, he wasn't only doing this just so your could get stronger. Trust him, he's heard the whispers of your fellow classmates whenever you showed them up in class and got praise for it. The harsh words so carelessly thrown at you.

And he knows that, if he can hear them, he has no doubt you can too.

So, he does this so you become more comfortable with yourself. Improvement starts with your own image of yourself! And, when all is said and done, when he's pushed you to a limit or you've beat a new goal, he gives you a hardy pat on the back while handing you a water bottle, praising you for your improvements.

Sam

Sam met you when you first came to his shop sometime during the first week of school.

Him, being the only shop owner on campus and having a reputation for having anything and everything, means he meets everyone eventually, and that's a lot of different people.

Usually, he relies on his Friends On The Other Side to quickly figure out what a student needs so he's not overworking his own mind trying to remember things. But, when he met you, he (and his friends) just knew you were going to be an interesting visitor.

And he was right. You come to Mr. S's Mystery Shop for an array of items, from normal groceries to scale care items.

It was during these frequent visits that the two of you began talking more, even to the point where he'd ask about whatever drama was flowing between the students and you happily spending however long it needed to explain it to him.

His Friends On The Other Side also became quickly fond of you, especially after finding out your senses could faintly pick up on them, capable of telling where in the shop they were hiding in. Sam himself took quite an interest in this.

It didn't take long before you became his "Favorite Imp", the one who provided him knowledge of what goes on inside the schools halls and classrooms. Sorta like gossip buddies at this point.

One day, after you'd fallen asleep in the woods one night in dragon form (your dormleader was not pleased), you had to make a stop at Sam's shop because the morning dew, while not bothering you due to being an ice dragon, had made the ground muddy where you were sleeping and now you needed to clean your scales. Again. Man, sometimes being a dragon is hard.

It was this day that Sam's friends, who you had learned to listen carefully enough to hear their words, tried to drag you out the back door so they could see what a dragon looked like.

You ended up indulging the friends, Sam having to come along to keep an eye on the rascals. He was a bit shocked, but with all the weird things he sells and even the ones he keeps put of stock for safety purposes, it wasn't the strangest nor the most astonishing thing he's seen. But it was new.

He's never been a big dragon fanatic, but he has sold some dragon related items, even to Professor Crewel who needs things for potionology, so it was actually really cool to see a dragon in the flesh.

But he also couldn't help to be a little sad. His Friends On The Other Side, and even himself, have hear the rumors about you on campus. About how there's a terrifying dragon student walking the halls, who glares at everyone in sight and refuses to be near other people.

He also knows that that's not you. You're his gossip buddy. And sure, he probably shouldn't be gossiping with a student, seeing as he's an adult, but he's still a young man at heart who years to have fun, which is why he took up a job at NRC.

So, just why would someone take a look at you, the student who keeps their wings and tail tucked in tight and politely apologizes when they knock something over, who plays games with his mysterious friends and looks freaking awesome as a dragon, and still think you're scary and mean?

"Now now my friends, let's not keep my Favorite Imp waiting." His friends, heading his call, quickly rush back inside and settle into their own shadows. When you walk past him, preparing to leave, he whispers to you. "Thanks for putting up with them, Little Imp. They appreciate it!"

Idk why Vargas doesn't have a speech after his section, but there wasn't one on Quotev and I don't feel like making one for him now. I did write in a note originally that I didn't proofread this bc is was so late at night, so that's probs why. Oof.

[slexenskee]

The Continuation of Satoru Supremacy

Am I just going to slot this poor boy into every fandom? Signs are pointing to yes at this point lol. Ok so I've had either a JJK/HOTD and JJK/GOT crossover rumbling around my brain for ages now and its gotten to a boiling point lol. The JJK/GOT would probably be Satoru/Robb Stark and the JJK/HOTD probably Satoru/Aegon II. I have them pretty fleshed out in my head ngl.

THE PROBLEM is that I love his name, Satoru, and it literally makes no sense to have him reincarnate into ASOIAF works and somehow end up with that name, which means I would need to change it, and I don't know wtf to change it to.

Literally grasping at straws rn lol. I lowkey like Soren since it sounds Valyrian enough and also I feel like Satoru would be over the moon about it because he'd share a name with one of his favorite Fire Emblem characters.

Anyway the HOTD one would be a isekai/reincarnation AU with Satoru as Daemon and Rheanyra's surprise brothel baby that Rheanyra had to get shotgun-wedding'd to Leanor for 😅 so yeah Satoru is once again causing chaos and problems for other people just by existing... this time before he was even born! He's also called the Radiant Prince and also still the Honored One because he's basically a god and everyone in HOTD is going to damn well know it.

WIP:

In this life, as in his last, his birth was heralded with reverence and veneration, and wrought with untenable legacy. 

He was the firstborn son of the Realm’s Delight, lovely and fair and every bit as preternaturally beautiful as his mother. He was said to have his grandmother’s Arryn blue eyes, the king’s tousled white curls, his mother’s smile, and the very birthright of his great Valyrian heritage etched into his very existence; from his heavenly features, to his dragon, to the very name bestowed upon him. 

For days on end the whole realm celebrated his birth as a magnificent affair; bells tolled long into the night, nobles spilled from the four corners of Westeros bearing gifts of abundance and splendor, the smallfolk celebrated en masse along the streets of King’s Landing. 

They called him a blessed child, a perfect child, a glorious new heir for the throne. 

Upon his very birth the Princess Rheanys was said to have looked into his heavenly eyes and pronounced him a gift from the gods of old Valyria. Those same eyes, a precious, celestial blue resembling the late Queen Aemma, were said to have reduced his grandfather the King to tears from the moment he opened them. Lord Velaryon had named them a mark of the gods’ favor; such a curious, mystifying color, never settling no matter the lighting, as mercurial as a tempest sea. 

Just the mere sight of such a marvelous child, a mortal so obviously marked by the gods, so destined for greatness, could easily quell the rumors beginning long before his birth. 

Such derelict hearsay would never grace the ears of such a divine prince, of course. But he heard it anyway.

They rushed the wedding, they said. 

The princess was meant to start her royal procession to select her prince consort, but instead was married to the Velaryon heir within a moon’s turn. (The King had to appease the Velaryon’s somehow, after the way he snubbed their pure Valyrian heiress for his Hightower bride.)

The babe came early— so suspiciously early. (The Princess Rheanyra was so young, of course she would have difficulty carrying to term. Didn’t you see him? The babe was born so small!)

And he looks every bit a Targaryen, not a speck of Velaryon to be seen on him. (But of course the blood of Aegon the Conqueror would run strong within the royal line— and the Princess Rheanys is his paternal grandmother, such features run on both sides. Why, look at Queen Alicent's children! Do they look Hightower to you?) 

The Rogue Prince dotes on him, shockingly so. He perhaps even reconciled with his brother just to remain near the young prince. (The Rogue Prince has always remained stoutly devoted to his family, no matter his unsavory reputation, his loyalty to the throne is unquestioned. That he is just as devoted to his brother’s heir as he is to his brother is merely filial piety.) 

No matter the rumors swirling around him, it only took a single glance from his blessed blue eyes to halt the whispers in their tracks. 

His divine beauty and grace, his mystical eyes, his magnificent dragon— such pedestrian slander seemed silly and absurd in the face of them. 

To question the legitimacy of the Radiant Prince, the Honored One… no mere mortal could possibly be capable of uttering such blasphemy. 

[zzprompto]

hiiii I love your stuff and wanted to make a request. is it possible to get an accidental confession from the reader where we're either talking to ignis or whoever you choose about how we have feelings for either prompto or noctis and they over hear us talking about them? you can choose whoever or both. have a good day/night<3

thanks for requesting!

☆ not so secret

noctis lucis caelum x male reader [he / him]

sypnosis: above.

the lowercase is intentional !

[name] paced around, waiting for ignis to finish talking to gladio so he could get some advice of his own. his brain was rattling around in his head, different thoughts squirming around as he stood there, consumed by his own thoughts. he need to talk to ignis, and quick.

after what felt like centuries, ignis was finally done talking to gladio. [name] took this opportunity and he quickly rushed over to the cook, not wanting anyone else to steal his chance.

"ignis. we need to talk about something. something.. serious. i don't know who else to tell, i feel like you'd be the best guy out of all of us to talk to." [name] rambled, voice rushing to finish it's sentence - just how the thoughts were rushing around [name]'s mind.

ignis nodded in response to his friend's rambling, seemingly quite concerened now for his friend. what could of happened? surely it wasn't something bad, right? because [name] surely looked distressed.

"yes, of course. you can come to me for anything, [name]." ignis said, giving [name] a small smile. he hoped it would somehow reassure him, or calm his nerves about this hidden situation to an extent. "now, what is it that you wanted to talk about?" ignis asked.

[name] took a deep breath, trying to calm down his racing mind. it seemed to work, or well at least for the time being. he could talk to ignis and not worry about his looming anxiety about the topic.

[name] cleared his throat, eyes focusing on the ground briefly before he looked up. he leaned in a little closer to ignis and he finally spoke. "i like noctis, romantically i mean. i just.. i just don't know if he feels the same. he has luna, a perfect, fairy tale ending to his story." [name] speaks, eyes trailing down to the floor once again. "no prince or king runs off with another prince, he always ends up with a princess - marrying her so she'd be his queen." [name] mumbles, clearly disappointed by the situation he has been put in because of his feelings.

ignis' eyes widen for a brief second as he takes in the initial shock after learning the news. his eyes then soften and he looks at [name] sympathetically, trying to make sure his friend doesn't worry about this 'boy drama' he has gotten himself into.

"i would've never thought you liked noct, but thinking back on it now it definitely makes sense." ignis chuckles slightly, shaking his head as he thinks of all the moments that had been shared between noctis and [name] over the years. it was clear that their bond was that beyond friendship - but to what extent? nobody knows yet.

throughout the years that all the men knew eachother, it was obvious that [name] and noctis were the closest. they'd always end up hanging out more, having more to say to eachother, or even having more secrets between eachother. it was clear that the two men cared for one another a fair deal.

yet, there was always a hint of something more.

there had always been a little glint in [name]'s eye whenever noctis was mentioned, or vice versa. there was always a smile, or a special applaud that the pair had for one another that they didn't have for anyone else. it was always clear that the relationship between the two was more than platonic.

even some of their friends caught up with all the signs. prompto was really the first one to notice, he even started to tease noctis about it. he'd often say how great of a couple the prince and [name] would be, and as of late he had been saying that noctis should marry [name] and not luna. noctis always brushed it off, however. he tried to act nonchalant, but there was always a blush on his cheeks whenever he heard the mention of his friends name.

whilst the conversation between ignis and [name] was occuring, noctis couldn't help but try and listen in. of course, his intentions were merely innocent. he had heard his name escape his friend's lips, and wanted to see if something was wrong. what he did not expect however, was for [name] to be confessing his feelings for him to ignis. noctis was perplexed.

the ravenette stood there in shock for a few seconds. he tried to process everything he had just heard, trying to see if he was just making things up. but no. he wasn't. [name] truly liked noctis romantically, and noctis felt his heart swelling as he heard the words fall out of [name]'s lips.

after gaining the courage, noctis decided to approach his friends. he stood besides [name] and smiled at the other man softly. it was the special smile he had only reserved for [name], none of his other friends. yet, this time the smile looked a bit different. it was as if the smiled was filled with an aspect of love and hope.

"i overheard what you said, [name]." noctis whispered as he stood besides his friend. ignis decided to take this as his queue to leave. he didn't even have to play the matchmaker, his friends were going to do that all themselves without his help.

[name] looked at noctis and he felt a little hot. perhaps it was from embarrassment, or perhaps it was even from the anticipation, the ever so painful longing of loving a friend.

"you did? oh fuck me.." [name] chuckled, shaking his head slightly as a nervous smile filled his features. noctis wanted to reply with something crude, but he decided to hold of for the time being. he'd say such things when they'd actually get together.

"i believe this prince doesn't need a princess.. another prince will do just fine for him." noctis replied, a smile on his lips to conquer the one [name] had. "that is.. if you're willing to have this prince?" the ravenette continued, holding out his hand for [name].

[name] nodded and he took noct's hand, taking a step forward to hug his friend. well, they weren't actually friends anymore. they were more than that now. they were practically soulmates, in all platonic and romantic senses.

"yes.. i am willing to have you and your offer of us being princes together." [name] hummed, feeling content as he held the prince in his arms. he just felt so relieved he didn't have to hide a part of him anymore. it was all out in the open.

noctis gracefully accepted the hug, his own arms going around [name]'s body. he wasn't sure what label to put on his relationship with [name] at the moment, but he was sure to find out. it was sure to be something that fit too, something that represented the two of them greatly.

"thank you." noctis whispered, pressing a small kiss to [name]'s cheek. the prince then earned a flurry of kisses to his face after that.

- author's note: hope you guys enjoy <3 decided to do noctis because i haven't written for him yet + there's barely any noctis content anyway

- navigation ; masterlist ; request