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[thefusioncelestial]

Mix 8: The Rugged Pop Star

Anonymous asked:

Hello, Love your stories and I love the merge thing. Now, you see, I've got a huge crush on Charlie Puth and I was wondering if you could merge me with him? That would be awesome to be able to live that. I'm a pretty tall guy, kinda hairy on the chest, black hair and dark brown eyes. I wonder what I would look like after.

Can you help me? Your price will be mine!

Another successful show for the mega successful pop star:

Life is good, life is perfect, it would be.

Charlie found out about prowlers: celebrities born from jealous people forcibly assimilating the target of their ire & living the dream they worked so hard to obtain. He himself was almost a victim to this after a typical LA party. Some preppy kid wanted his fame for himself. Charlie knew that something had to be done. He needed a defense against this phenomenon.

With his money & connections, he able to find out how others are doing it. His heart sank. He would only need to do it once, but he would need to assimilate another. This would give him a natural defense against predation attempts on him, like a vaccine. But who? He would be taking away someone's right to live their life independently & of their own free will.

He heard of stories of celebrities losing it all, after choosing a member of their management team, it meant duties as a star in their field & the behind the scenes work load. He didn't want a super fan, the result could be extreme levels of narcissism, and that has ended the careers of many or destroyed their ability to form relationships.

"Here's your coffee sir," the intern chimed. He was tall, had black hair; lots of facial hair. His clothing choices hid his build, but he seemed a little skinnier than Charlie. Charlie had his choice. He would scope him out first.

The intern was a fan of his, but never confronted Charlie or tried to get an autograph. He was able to separate his own desires from his work. A strong work ethic. He didn't have any outwardly noticeable social media either, no mention that he works for a mega star. A strong work ethic, mature, and not using him for clout. Charlie could dig further and find a more perfect candidate, but he was shaken up. If it were not for the taser gun, someone else would be living his life, and Charlie would be stuck in them forever.

He called this intern to his dressing room. He didn't know what Charlie wanted, maybe to complain about the coffee, but he was happy nonetheless. After he came to the room, he was sat down by Charlie.

The intern was nervous at first, but Charlie explained the situation. He couldn't believe it, Charlie Puth wants me to be a part of him! The intern looked back at his life, university graduated, aside from his job as a part of Charlie Puth's crew, a new addition mind you, he had nothing remarkable going on. That is why he never blasted his job online: he wanted to keep this one. So he worked his hardest & kept his head down. And now he might be mixing his body & mind with his idol.

The intern agreed when Charlie was done. Charlie sighed that this was necessary & thanked him. He informed him that he wanted to do this now. The intern was shocked, now? He blushed. Ok, so be it. Promotion to Charlie Puth.

Charlie went and locked the door. The last thing he needed was for someone to walk in and get grabbed by his transforming self & adding to the result.

Charlie pulled out a flask with red liquid and drank it. He sat down in another chair. He hesitated. He apologized again and with his right hand bid the intern to come.

The intern, overjoyed, took off his shirt and jeans, revealing boxer briefs. He was about to go commando, but Charlie stopped him from doing that.

All they needed to do was touch skin and then press hard into Charlie. Let the process handle the rest. The intern was taller, and had a build similar to Charlie, only more cut. He was hairy too. Like all over. It was intimidating, no going back. Time to invest in better razors.

The intern got on his knees and then pressed his head against Charlie's chest. His head started to go in.

Charlie felt pressure, and a wave of liquid flow into him. Then pleasurable sensations. He didn't let out any moans or groans except from heavy breathing through his mouth. He didn't want to express the pleasures from assimilating others. Even if they consented. His face showed discomfort, like he was going to cry. And then it hit him.

As the intern entered, he liquidized. Within a few minutes his entire being was a slurry of liquid masses swimming throughout Charlie's body. The underwear fell the to ground. The intern entered Puth's brain, his mind. Charlie felt everything the intern was feeling, and so did the intern. As their minds merged, they reconciled their differences. Charlie's apprehension went away, he was at peace. His face changed to calm. He looked as if he was sleeping in the chair.

The mental traits that didn't become a dominate part of Charlie's mind went into his subconsciousness. From the intern's prospective, he was floating in an peaceful abyss. He would hear Charlie's thoughts, feel what he felt emotionally & physically, see what Charlie sees, and on occasion push Charlie's decisions in one direction or another; just a little. He was Charlie Puth now, small part of the whole.

Charlie's body was rife with activity. The liquid mass of the intern moved through out, looking like big lumps under beneath his skin. Pulsating fast and randomly.

The intern's dna latched on to Charlie's. Puth's new dna then fired off. The mass began to settle and in act new changes. Charlie could feel each one, but all he could do was open his mouth wide open & clutch his hands to the arm rest of the chair he was sitting in, and crunch his toes.

He could feel muscles pop, and in other places, his skin constrict. His bones stretch. His hair darken. And then his face morphed. As if a layer of skin toned smooth clay was covering his face, the intern's facial traits settled in. It was if the intern was a sculptor, and with care & precision molded his new face, dyed his hair.

The intern was a hairy man, and when the merger was focusing on his face, hair started to erupt all over. But as if Charlie was standing next to his new body, as if with a pair of scissors, began to cut away the hair. The body & facial hair began to shrink. Finding a happy medium between Charlie's original bare skin & the intern's wall of hair.

The process was over. Charlie let out a deep exhale and closed his mouth. He opened his eyes.

He was a new man.

But what has he become? Can he still sing?

He looked at the dressing room mirror.

He was taller, and more muscular. He wasn't fat or overweight beforehand, but the intern gave him that push. A six pack was more visible, but he kept his mass. His arms were more vascular. Was he a pop star or a bodybuilder?

His arms and shoulders grew too, a thicker neck. Did he really merge with someone, it felt like he just went to the gym more or dieted better. His brushed his hand against his chest.

Body hair?

He had hair on his forearms, on his chest and abs, and in the face. Sideburns that connected to his new beard & mustache. His hair was darker too, & more voluminous.

His mouth was smaller, and his nose moved more upright, but the lower mouth generally followed his original shape. His ears & skull were longer. But his eyes? A mix of his and the intern. More the interns. The signature cut above his right eye was gone.

He wiped his face, scrupled his hair.

The intern's personal history. It was melded to his. He knew partly why he was big now, his was practicing judo beforehand.

He wanted to feel the fresh air now with his new body. He changed into the underwear & shorts of his fusee and then went outside for a jog:

It was exhilarating. He was stronger, faster, had more stamina. He could see why people get assimilated. But this is it. No more. Too many, and the original me will be gone & buried. A monster hunger for more power.

He went back to the dressing room and used the secret shower within. He changed his clothes. Everyone addressed him as Charlie. No one knew the difference. When he asked for the intern & described him, no one knew what he was talking about. Scary.

He went to his vocal coach and tested out his singing voice. He sounded more mature, but kept his perfect pitch abilities. And now he could kick butt too.

[zairaalbereo]

Pick up one of these free bookmark at WorldCon 2024 and follow @lindseybyrd or go to her website to find out about her fantastic upcoming book The Sun Blessed Prince! ☀️

[enemiestolovershoe]

JJ & Reader going night surfing and falling asleep in a hammock together, only for John b to find them in the morning and tease tf out of them about it?

More than just friends

JJ Maybank x bsf!reader

Summary: After a night of surfing and stargazing, JJ and the reader share a quiet moment that doesn’t go unnoticed the next morning.

Words: 1.4k

Warnings: Not proofread, minor drug use (smoking a joint)

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

The sun was dipping below the horizon, casting a warm, golden glow over the Pogues’ little setup by the bonfire outside the Chateau. The night was calm, almost hypnotic, and the waves lapped softly in the distance as the fire crackled. You, JJ, John B, Pope, and Kiara sat around, laughing and recounting stories, the kind of simple, perfect night that only really happened with this crew.

Kiara stretched, yawning, as the night wore on. “Alright, I’m calling it. I’ve got to get some sleep if we’re hitting the water tomorrow.”

Pope yawned as well, rubbing his eyes. “Same. I’m wiped out.”

John B gave you and JJ a lazy wave as he and the others trudged inside. “Don’t stay up too late, you two,” he called, smirking.

JJ just chuckled, kicking back against the log he was leaning on. “As if you can tell us what to do, JB.”

Soon, it was just you and JJ, sitting by the fire, watching as the embers glowed red-orange against the night sky. There was something peaceful about it—just the two of you, the soft crash of waves, and the dim glow of the fire.

After a few minutes, you got an idea. You nudged JJ, your eyes bright with mischief. “Hey. Wanna make this night even better?”

JJ raised an eyebrow, already grinning. “What, you got something up your sleeve?”

“Night surfing,” you said, practically bouncing with excitement. “The waves have been perfect all evening. Let’s hit them before they die down.”

He laughed, eyes lighting up at the idea. “You’re serious?”

“Dead serious,” you replied, challenging him. “Unless you’re too tired, of course.”

JJ gave you an exaggerated scoff. “Me, too tired? Never.” He jumped up, pulling you with him. “Come on, let’s grab the boards.”

With a shared, excited look, you ran to get your surfboards, adrenaline already beginning to pulse through you both. The ocean looked almost mysterious in the dim moonlight, dark yet welcoming, as if it was inviting you two to take on one more adventure.

Once you waded into the water, JJ looked over at you, his grin barely visible in the dim light. “Ready to get smoked?”

“Please,” you said with a smirk, paddling out past him. “Let’s see if you can even keep up.”

The waves were just right—big enough to give you a challenge, but soft enough to make it fun. You rode wave after wave, the two of you laughing and occasionally shouting as you tried to one-up each other, the sound echoing over the water.

After a particularly good ride, JJ turned to you, still out of breath, his hair wet and clinging to his face. “I have to hand it to you, you didn’t wipe out as much as I thought you would,” he teased.

You rolled your eyes. “Oh, please. I was waiting for you to keep up.”

He shot you a lopsided grin. “Guess you’ll have to wait forever then, ‘cause I’m untouchable out here.”

As the waves finally began to die down, you both paddled back to shore, breathing heavily and grinning from ear to ear. Back on the sand, you stretched out, laughing as you both tried to catch your breath.

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

“That was…awesome,” JJ said, staring up at the stars.

“Right?” you replied, lying back on the cool sand beside him.

After a few moments of quiet, JJ sat up, brushing sand from his board shorts. “Come on, let’s head back.”

Back at the Chateau, you both paused on the porch, feeling the night wind down. You looked over at JJ, and he held up the joint he’d pulled from his pocket with a grin. “One last thing to top off the night?”

“Only if you’re sharing,” you teased.

“Always,” he said, and motioned to the hammock. “Best seat in the house.”

You climbed into the hammock beside him, finding your balance as it swung gently with both of your weights. You took the joint from him, inhaling deeply, and watched as JJ lit up, the flame flickering in his face.

“Sometimes I think this is what I’d do forever if I could,” JJ murmured, looking up at the stars through the trees.

You exhaled, passing the joint back to him. “What, get high in a hammock every night?”

“No,” he laughed, nudging your shoulder with his. “I mean… just this. Just chilling out here with you guys, like this is all that matters.”

You looked over at him, seeing a side of JJ you didn’t always get to see. “You know… you’re kind of a sap,” you teased, though your voice was soft.

“Don’t let it get around,” he muttered, looking at you, his eyes softened. “Can’t have everyone knowing I actually have feelings.”

“Your secret’s safe with me,” you said, smiling, a warmth in your chest that you couldn’t quite place.

He took another hit, handing the joint back to you. “You’re not too bad yourself, you know that?”

You gave him a look. “Wow, what a compliment.”

“Hey,” he said, laughing, his hand resting just beside yours, close enough that you could feel his warmth. “I don’t just give those out to anyone.”

You rolled your eyes, but couldn’t help smiling. It felt so easy, lying there with him, like it was the most natural thing in the world. The two of you drifted into quiet conversation, talking about anything and everything until the night started to blur around the edges. Before you knew it, the world was growing hazy, your eyes beginning to close as you felt the gentle sway of the hammock.

At some point, you felt JJ’s arm around you, his breathing deep and steady as he fell asleep beside you. You leaned into him, the warmth of his presence making you feel safe and content as you drifted off.

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

The next morning, sunlight filtered through the trees, slowly waking up the Pogues inside the Chateau. John B was the first to stir, stretching and blinking as he got up, wandering outside to see what mischief you and JJ had gotten into.

What he found made him pause—and then grin.

You and JJ were still tangled up in the hammock, your head resting on his shoulder, his arm securely around you, both fast asleep and oblivious to the world. John B stifled a laugh, fishing his phone out of his pocket to snap a few quick pictures.

“Too good to pass up,” he muttered, trying not to laugh too loudly. With one last amused glance at you both, he slipped back inside, shaking his head with a smirk.

An hour later, you stirred awake, blinking against the bright sunlight. It took a moment for you to realize where you were—and that JJ was still beside you, his arm comfortably around your shoulders, your hand resting on his chest. Your heart skipped a beat, but before you could move, JJ’s eyes blinked open, a sleepy smile spreading across his face.

“Morning, surfer girl,” he murmured, his voice rough from sleep.

“Morning,” you whispered back, feeling your cheeks warm, though you made no move to pull away.

Eventually, the two of you untangled yourselves, reluctantly climbing out of the hammock and making your way back inside. As you entered, John B was leaning against the counter, watching you both with an obnoxiously smug grin.

“Well, well, look who’s up,” he greeted, his tone thick with amusement. “Good morning, lovebirds.”

You rolled your eyes, though your cheeks flushed. “Shut up, John B.”

JJ just grinned, trying to brush it off. “Real funny, man. Keep it up.”

“Oh, I will,” John B said, laughing. He folded his arms, giving you both a knowing look. “So… how’d you two sleep?”

JJ narrowed his eyes, clearly suspicious. “What’s with the interrogation?”

Without a word, John B pulled out his phone and held up the pictures he’d taken. “I don’t need to interrogate you when the evidence speaks for itself.”

Your jaw dropped. “John B, what the hell?”

John B raised his hands innocently, grinning. “Hey, don’t shoot the messenger. I’m just saying, the proof is in the photos.”

JJ rubbed the back of his neck, laughing it off. “Dude, come on. We were just…you know, we were tired. It was a long night.”

“Right,” John B said, his tone laced with sarcasm. He gave you both a serious look, his voice dropping slightly. “I don’t know if you’re really that blind, but you two are clearly more than just friends.”

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

A/n: I hope you like it. :)

[amongemeraldclouds]

Things I’ll Never Say

Why say things out loud when you can write them all down in a journal? No need to inconvenience everyone else with silly declarations of love that’s only guaranteed to break your heart. So what happens when your enemy - of all people - finds it?

Lorenzo Berkshire x Reader

“Is it that, or is it because you’re in love with me?”

Thanks to @thatdammchickennugget for the prompt. Here's my official entry for the Hogmarch challenge, prompt one. 1k words.

Author’s note: The way I screamed when this idea came to mind! Journaling is such a big part of my life, I’ll take any and every chance I can to incorporate it to my stories.

Indented text are journal entries.

Warning: Cursing, no use of y/n, slight angst but it’s kinda cute. Fluff express coming through!

✿ Masterlist

“Stop copying my notes!” I hiss at Lorenzo, moving my arm to cover my parchment.

“Come on, I missed class today. I need to catch up,” he says, tugging at the arm of my sweater.

“Go ask your friends,” I retort, moving my arm away from his grasp.

“You know they’re not in that class, just you,” he insists.

“Oh we’re not friends,” I deadpan.

“It won’t take long,” he tries again.

“If you weren’t busy sleeping around with everyone, Berkshire. You would have made it to class this morning.”

 He leans in to my ear and whispers, “I’ll make it worth your while.”

I grab the nearest hardbound book and swing it in his direction. Thwack! It strikes his shoulder.

The librarian looks at us sternly. “Your final warning was just given five minutes ago. No noise in the library!” She points her finger to the exit, “You two, out!”

“Great. Thanks for that, Berkshire. Good luck with your notes.” My face gets hot with embarrassment as I gather my things and rush off to the exit.

Enzo spots a black leather bound journal in the area you just vacated. He takes it with him as he exits the library. She’s always writing in this notebook. I’m sure she won’t mind if I take a peek, I’ll give it back to her anyway.

He damn well knew you would mind. When he reaches a quiet corner of the hallway, he proceeds to turn the cover anyway.

I know, I know. I’m not supposed to like Lorenzo Berkshire. Why the fuck did I just draw a heart over the “i”! That’s it. I’m losing my mind! I can’t be caught liking the boy who spewed the word mudblood in my direction our first year. Like it’s my fault I was born into my family. And screw him okay, muggles are awesome. I can break my own heart with my misguided affections, but I’d rather die before I ever let him break my heart. So before I check myself into a mental asylum, I need to just say this somewhere. Anywhere. A last ditch effort to save my sanity.

He’s the intrusive thought I love to entertain in my head.

As a dare, he took off his shirt at the party. My toes curled. I pretended not to notice him.

I heard him laughing with his friends. I love the way it lit up his face.

I saw him enter his dorm hand in hand with a girl. I never wish to be her, another one night stand. Once would never be enough. 

I nearly kissed him again.

He helped me pick up the pile of books I dropped at the library. He seemed kind and concerned. Ha! Who am I kidding?

I count down the hours until I see him again.

Maybe in another lifetime it wouldn’t matter: bloodlines, social status, and hierarchies. So unnecessary.

I noticed the veins in his arm at quidditch practice. I tried not to bite my lip. What must it be like to be wrapped in those arms?

And there he was again with his stupid hair breaking my stupid heart.

Enzo hears determined footsteps approaching and he shuts the journal, hiding it behind him.

“Fine, Berkshire,” I sigh when I reach him. “Here, take my notes,” I say, handing it out to him.

He quirks an eyebrow.

“Weren’t you so desperate to get them earlier?” I fold my arms. “I will not be part of the reason you fail in class.” I point at him, “you and your dumb ass can very well do it yourself. I have more important things to worry about.”

“Is it that, or is it because you’re in love with me?”

My brain short circuits, the fire freezing in my veins. How the hell does he know?

He smirks, pulling out a familiar black journal. My eyes widen.

“On second thought,” I say, stepping back. “It doesn’t matter,” I turn around and walk away. “Fail class for all I care.”

I’m yanked back when I feel Enzo’s grip on my wrist. “Wait.”

My heart thumps in my chest. Holy shit. Holy shit. Holy shit. He knows!

“I’m sorry,” he says. What? I turn back, my confused expression directed at him.

“That I called you a mudblood,” he explains. “I was a dumb ass when we were younger.”

“Finally, we agree on something,” I state, trying to mask the tremble in my voice.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know you back then and I was prejudiced. Over the years, I enjoyed watching your passion for magic and studying. How you light up when you talk to your friends about a book you just read. And how you’re always the first to volunteer when someone needs help. You have this fire and warmth in you and I just need to be around it all the time. I’m reduced to being a moth to your flame and I don’t mind it at all.”

I blink, speechless.

He takes a step forward, voice softening. “Why do you think I tease you all the time?”

“Well how the fuck was I supposed to know?” The anger not quite there in my voice.

“I just wanted a chance to talk to you and I thought you hated me.” He brushes the hair from my face and cups my face. “Clearly, I was wrong.”

I roll my eyes, “Oh no, I do hate you.” I falter, “but maybe I kind of, just sort of, like you too.”

He grins. “It seems there are things we need to talk about. Will you go on a date with me?”

My heart stutters. “You already know my answer.”

He laughs, “stubborn as always. I’ll take that as a yes.” He pulls me in for a hug. 

Oh. Being wrapped in his strong arms is even better than I imagined. I rest my head on his shoulder when a thought occurs to me.

“You’re sure this is not just some elaborate ploy for me to keep giving you my notes?”

He sighs, “of course not, just enjoy this moment."

He moves his mouth to my ear, "But if you do, I solemnly swear I will make it worth your while.”

I don't hit him this time.

✿ Masterlist

A/N: For those who get the Avril Lavigne title reference, here's a tight hug for you! ♡

I may or may not have also had a place where I wrote down love confessions for someone I couldn’t have. Some of those may or may not have been included in the journal entries.

Two fics published in one day? Who is she?

[merrybloomwrites]

The Only Way of Knowing You (Chapter 1)

Story Summary: After a chance encounter, Y/N finds herself on a series of dates with Harry Styles. She shares with him her innocence regarding physical intimacy, and he takes his responsibility in teaching her all about that very seriously.

Chapter Summary: Y/N is overjoyed to head to the hospital to meet her new nephew, and ends up meeting Harry Styles as well.

Word Count: 1.7K

CW: mentions of people giving birth

AN: So excited to finally post this series! I've really enjoyed writing this and hope you'll all like it. Thank you to the anon who requested shy virgin reader!

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You’re anxiously waiting to get a text or a call from your brother-in-law. You’d spoken to your sister yesterday morning and she mentioned that she felt like she was having contractions and would probably be in labor soon. So casually! You figured that since this is her second baby she must be feeling more relaxed about the whole situation.

But that doesn’t stop you from worrying about her for the whole day and a half between that call and when your phone finally rings again, Brian’s name appearing on the screen. He’d been sending regular updates to you and your parents and the last one sent almost two hours ago just said “it’s time”. 

So this call must mean your new nephew is finally born. You quickly grab the phone and answer the call. 

“Brian, hi!”

“He’s here!” He exclaims. “Born at 1:35, 7 pounds, 2 ounces, 21 and a half inches long.”

“How is he doing? How is Kyra?” 

“He’s perfect! Kyra did great, she’s resting at the moment. We'll send a picture soon. She asked that no one come this afternoon but we’d love for you to stop by tomorrow. Your parents are coming in the morning and bringing Wyatt to meet her little brother.”

“Ok great! I’ll talk to them and coordinate what time.”

“Awesome, you’re gonna love him! Listen I’ve got a couple more calls and I want to get back to them but I’ll talk to you later.”

“Bye Brian, give Kyra my love!”

“Will do, bye Y/N.”

You hang up and literally squeal with excitement and relief that he’s here and everyone is doing well. You let out another happy noise when you get a couple pictures from Brian. You’re immediately in love with this little boy, even if he looks like an alien/old man hybrid. You wish you knew his name, but your sister made it clear she is keeping it a secret until you and your parents meet him in person. 

At 8PM your mom calls and you figure they just got Wyatt to sleep. You talk for a bit and make plans to all meet at the hospital the following morning at 11. 

You’re so excited that it’s nearly impossible to fall asleep, but you manage. The next morning passes quickly, and suddenly it’s time to head to the hospital. 

Once there you find your parents and your niece signing in and you do so as well. Finally, the four of you make your way to the right room. Just like when you met Wyatt nearly three years prior, you immediately fall in love with this little baby the second he’s placed in your arms. 

“Everyone, meet Jasper Lucas,” your sister says. 

For half an hour you all get to spend time with Jasper as well as check in on Kyra, who truthfully looks fantastic for having just given birth the day before. You and your parents step out in order to give the family of four some time together. 

Your mom comments that she could use a coffee and your dad hastily agrees so they head off to the cafeteria. You figure they must not be used to taking care of a toddler and decide to go over and help out that evening. 

They ask if you want anything and you decline, choosing to instead go into one of the family waiting rooms and check on a project for work. 

The room is empty when you enter but after a minute you hear footsteps. Looking up from your phone, you’re shocked to see who just walked in.

Harry Styles casually sits in one of the other chairs. You subtly glance at him, noting his jeans and sweater combo, as well as the look of pure excitement on his face. After pointedly looking anywhere but at him for a moment you can't help but turn towards him again.

“Hi!” he says cheerfully when he notices you looking at him. 

“Hello,” you manage to squeak out. 

“I’m Harry,” he says, leaning towards you with his hand out.

“I’m Y/N,” you reply while politely shaking his hand, hoping you’re doing it right. Which is wild because you;ve shaken hands with people hundreds of times but like, this is Harry Styles. 

“My sisters just had a baby,” he adds, and now you understand why he’s practically vibrating with glee. 

“Congratulations! Mine has as well. Is this Gemma’s first?” You realize a second later how creepy you now sound, using his sister's name when he hadn’t even told it to you. 

Before you can apologize he laughs and says, “Yes, her first. So you know who I am then?”

“I mean, I don’t live under a rock so yes, I am aware that you’re Harry Styles.” 

“Can you do me a favor then, love?” 

You nod, willing to do anything he asks, especially if he continues to use such sweet terms of endearment like ‘love’.

“Gems kept this whole pregnancy private, and isn’t planning to announce she’s had a baby for a few weeks. I probably should’ve kept my mouth shut, but I just had to tell someone. Can you help keep this a secret and not let anyone know about the baby?”

“Oh of course, yea, secret’s safe with me.”

“I appreciate it. We may be adults now, but I think I’ll always fear the wrath of my big sister,” he says with another laugh. “Is this your sister's first as well?” he asks.

“No, I have a niece, Wyatt, she turns three next month,” you reply.

“And this little one, boy or girl?”

“Boy. His name is Jasper. My sister always said she wanted one girl and one boy so I guess she got her wish.” 

You refrain from asking him the same question, not wanting to look like you're asking for personal information about his family, but he apparently doesn’t feel that way because he says, “Gemma had a girl. The tiniest little thing. I think. At least she looks that way in the picture.”

“You haven’t been able to see them yet?”

“Not quite, they needed a few more minutes before they were ready. Our mum’s in there with her, has been the whole time, so I’ve been anxiously waiting on my own.

“I feel that. I was the same way the past couple of days.”

“Well at least we have each other now, I feel much less jittery being able to talk to you,” he says.

“Glad I could help. People say I’m an excellent conversationalist.”

“Oh I can see that already, I’m quite enjoying this conversation.”

Just then Harry’s mum, Anne, walks into the room.

“Harry dear, they’re ready for you,” she says, giving you a quick smile before she walks out again.

He jumps out of his seat and says, “Sorry to cut it short, but-”

“Not a problem! Go, meet your niece. Bet she’ll be very happy to meet her Uncle Harry,” you reply.

“Would you want to keep talking? Later?”

You look at him, confused. “I’m not sure how long I’m going to be at the hospital.”

“Oh, no, I didn’t mean here. I just meant, maybe we could meet again, some other time. At some other place. Preferably with better coffee.”

“Are you asking me to hang out with you at a coffee shop?” you inquire, wanting to make sure you fully understand what is happening.

“I am. Sorry, it’s been a while since I’ve actually asked someone on a date, guess I’m a tad rusty.”

Your eyes go wide at the word ‘date’. You were already perplexed, wondering why he’d want to hang out with you as friends, but making it a date? 

Your mouth works faster than your brain, and before you can really think through your answer, you hear yourself saying, “I’d love to get coffee with you.”

“Fantastic! Here, write your number in my phone and I’ll text you to set something up,” he replies while unlocking and handing over his phone. You’re practically on autopilot typing in your info and handing the phone back to him.

“I should go, I’ve got a niece to meet. It really was lovely chatting with you.”

“I agree. Say congrats to your sister for me!”

“I will, please say the same to your sister.”

“Of course,” you reply.

“Goodbye Y/N. I’ll talk to you soon.

“Looking forward to it. Goodbye Harry.”

With one last shy smile, he walks out of the room, leaving you standing there feeling rather shell shocked. You don’t have long to dwell before your own mother pops back in saying Kyra is ready for you all to go back.

You spend another hour there before leaving to go out and get some lunch. While you’re at a local restaurant, trying to encourage Wyatt to eat her lunch rather than play with it, you get a text from Brian saying Kyra and the baby will be discharged later that afternoon.

After lunch you go to their house and entertain Wyatt while your parents make sure everything is clean and ready for them to come home. Brian, Kyra, and Jasper arrive just before dinner, so you stay to make sure everyone eats and is as content as possible. 

You leave after cleaning the dishes, knowing everyone is ready to settle down for the evening. Back home you hop in the shower, and when you get out, you have a text from an unknown number. It reads, “Hello, Y/N, it’s Harry.”

Your eyes go wide and you let out a nervous giggle. Honestly, there’s a part of you that thought you had hallucinated the interaction this afternoon, but here’s proof that it all really happened. Before you can type back you get another message from him saying, “If you’re not busy, how would you feel about getting coffee this Saturday? Say 1PM at Inkwell Cafe?”

“Sounds perfect,” you reply. Your phone dings again a second later and you read, “See you then! Have a great rest of your week.” After sending a quick “You as well!” you toss your phone to the side. 

You get into bed, and reflect for a moment on everything that happened since getting up that morning. You knew it’d be a wonderful day; how could it not when you got to finally meet your perfect nephew?

But to have met one of your favorite celebrities and now have a date with him? Never in a million years would you have guessed the day would end this way. You fall asleep feeling like the luckiest person in the world.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

AN: Thank you so much for reading! I hoped you liked this chapter and can't wait to share the rest!

[ashthemadwriter-archived]

Baby Boy Darling!

—Your boyfriend turning into a little baby? What are you going to do with him?

Fandom: Bungou Stray Dogs

Pairings: Dazai, Chuuya, Fyodor, Nikolai, Ranpo, Jouno X Fem! Reader

Genre: Fluff, Humor

Format: Drabble

Warnings: None

Word Count: 1.8K

A/n: Mildly rushed but acceptable ig!

↳Osamu Dazai

"You know... I don't think this is a good choice for a bedtime story"

The little infant in your arms looked at you curiously. He wasn't old enough to make any sounds other than crying, but the martyred expression he was wearing and his firm grip on your thumb displayed his intention with no complicacy. Nevertheless, that didn't stop you from putting the suicide manual on the nightstand.

"Now now, don't look at me like that. I'm a good babysitter, and a good babysitter doesn't teach babies ways to kill themselves"

You gently caressed his puffy cheeks. "I'm also a generous babysitter, which is why I don't slap your hand away when you grab my boobs"

His gaze fell on his small chubby hand that was trying to get a hold of your breast. It was a good thing you had a T-shirt on, or with the way he was trying to cup them they would've been bleeding by now.

"I'm sorry honey, I don't think you can hold them anymore. Your hands are just too tiny!"

He whined and pouted in response.

"I know! I'm sad too. C'mon, smile a little for me will you? Smile for your mommy"

If he was still an adult, he would have rolled his eyes and smiled, but he wasn't. He was just a cranky baby who was probably planning your murder in his cute little head.

"Get it? Mommy? I'm your mommy! God you didn't have a sense of humor when you were a child did you? I miss my kind, loving boyfriend"

He looked at you unfazedly.

"Alright, how about I sing you a song? Twinkle twinkle little star, how I wonder what you aaaaaaaa— ah!?"

Dazed, you looked down at your baby boyfriend with widened eyes, only to find him staring back at you while his mouth was on your right breast. He was trying to suck on it, but that wasn't easy when it was covered with two layers of clothes, your bra and your T-shirt. Your eyebrows jumped in surprise.

"Wow, you still like the right one better?"

↳Fyodor Dostoyevsky

"So this is the power imbalance they were talking about huh?"

The violet eyed infant stares at you blankly, having a "it won't be this way for long" look in his eyes. You're holding him in front of you while sitting on the edge of the bed, wearing the cheekiest grin you could ever wear.

"No wonder you were so crazy about it. Having somebody wrapped around your finger... feels awesome!"

Still the same bored look.

"giving me the cold shoulder now? I'm just using simple logic to prove my point-which is also what you used to do. I'm saying that from this moment, you're totally and completely dependant on me"

Fyodor tilts his head to the side and gives you a weird look, tempting you to imitate his gesture. A strong feeling is causing you to brag about the current situation and tease him, and you're willingly giving into it.

"Alright. Since I'm the one in charge now, I'm setting a few ground rules. No more acting all workaholicly and staying up until late. No more skipping meals, mister. Im gonna feed you with my special milk, hehehe~ Also, I've got some confessions to make"

It's probably a bad decision to bring these up right now, but you're too captured in the heat of the moment to realize that.

"Ok. I've been trying to tell you this for quite a while. The truth is... I'm pregnant"

The unfazed look is still on.

"Yeah, that was a lie. The real truth is... I was the one who ate all your snacks"

Still no change in his expression.

"...But I assume you already know that. Ugh, keeping secrets from you is such a pain... could you not figure me out for just once?"

Fyodor doesn't seem very eager to respond. He's already very annoyed with how things have turned out and is not really in the mood to joke around. You come to that conclusion when he touches your forearm with his chubby little hand.

"You're gonna activate your ability and kill me, aren't you?"

↳Nikolai Gogol

"Quiz time!!"

Your baby boyfriend whines in annoyance.

"Who's gonna get paid one in his own coin and suffer like I did every time he teased me?"

You flash him a cocky smirk, matched with the way you're looking at him from above as he's lying on the bed. You're standing next to the bed, happier than you could ever be, planning all the steps of your revenge as you trash talk to him.

"That's right. It's no one but youuuuu! Hahahahaha!!"

Nikolai wants to prove to you that he's still strong and nobody can defeat him, but he realizes there's noway he can imply that other by a sulky attitude, which he reluctantly suffices to.

You hold his favorite snack in front of him and shake it, smiling wildly. "Come on darling! Have some! Eh? What are you waiting for? Awwwww! You can't? Then I'll help myself!"

You shoved the entire thing in your mouth and laughed hysterically.

"Nom nom* tastes nom* heavenly! No wonder you never let me have a bite!"

Nikolai is starting to feel a little guilty now. He didn't know that his teasings have made you a spiteful whore.

"You hate babies so much, and now you are one! That's the scariest punishment itself! Can you feel the power of karma? It's a bitch, ain't it? Well, now that you can't talk anymore, I have something to say to you!"

You bend over until there's a small gap between you, pointing at his tiny figure. The bullying attitude is all gone and instead, there's soft glare lying in your eyes.

"I want one of these. Give me one when you get back, Kolya"

You're wrong. This is the scariest punishment.

↳Saigiku Jouno

"Thank you for the meal!"

Jouno is upset. There are many unfortunate things happening for him at the moment. He doesn't like to be a baby. He doesn't want to be unable to do anything other than crying, pooping, eating and sleeping. More importantly, he doesn't want to feel your teeth on his cheeks.

"Mhm, so soft and squishy!" You smile sweetly and look at his puffy cheeks, stained with your bite marks in crimson. "I could just eat you up now, 'giku. You taste so sweet!"

Anyone who hears this would be happy and blush slightly, but Jouno wasn't one of them, as he tilts his head and looks away, having the most adorable pout on his lips.

Grumpy as always.

"C'mon now, it's not that bad! Look on the bright side! Everyone will have to do everything for you since you can't do it yourself"

Jouno tilts his head back, his eyebrows jumped in surprise.

"Right, that wasn't a really good example of the bright side"

Sighing, you lay next to him on the matress, hands traveling through his white locks. His muscles relax a little bit as he gives into your warmth, nuzzling his head in your chest. You hum with a soft beam, inhaling his baby scent.

"You smell very nicely too, 'giku. Don't be too depressed about this. It's not the end of the world. We'll find a way to turn you back eventually. Plus..."

You lightly pat his back, pressing a lingering kiss on his forehead. "I can have you all to myself, since you can't go on any missions and leave me here all alone anymore"

Yeah, Jouno thinks, maybe it's not that awful after all.

↳Ranpo Adogawa

"Ouch! Why you- let go of my hair you aggressive baby!"

Ranpo cries a whine out and pulls your hair harder, leading you to scream back even louder.

"Stop it! What is wrong with you? I dont care how upset you are, I'm not gonna give you any sweets- ow ow ow!! Ranpo- I said let go of my fucking hair you dumbass!"

Your angry shout startles the dark haired baby. It's not just that he's little, you'd never talked like this to him before. Slowly loosening his grip on your hair, he starts sobbing quietly, covering his face with his chubby hands. This breaks your heart.

"Nooo... I'm sorry sweetie! Mommy- Aunty- god I dont even know what I am to you anymore! Whatever- I'm sorry ok? But you can't eat sweets baby boy, you're smart enough to know that, right?"

Smart enough to know that?? Huh!

Ranpo sees right through your little plan. He knows all these little tricks inside out- hell he was the one who taught you all of them; but what pisses him off is how it's working on him even though he knows your true intention.

The smirk you've been holding back shamelessly appears on your face when he wears a serious expression, nodding like someone who's given an important task and is determined to do it carefully and correctly, then points at your boobs.

Your smile instantly fades away.

"Shit. I'm not doing that"

↳Chuuya Nakahara

"Your struggle is hilarious to me"

Baby Chuuya watched you with a threatening glare. He was clearly unhappy about this situation, and you enjoying his frustration was not going to help him at all.

"I know you really need it right now, but honestly, I don't think your little tummy can digest that"

Merely ignoring you, he tried to open the bottle of wine he was struggling to hold with his chubby feet; but every time he pulled, the bottle would slip out of his not so tight grasp. He couldn't use his ability on it, since the bottle would sink into his little body. He couldn't even roll over on the bed, and his so called nanny was laughing instead of helping him.

Forget about all the things he'd been through. This was the true misery.

"Alright. Give me the bottle"

He didn't seem to agree, because he immediately hugged the bottle with all the strength he had, like it was his dearest thing. Your serious expression showed that you weren't going to give up either.

"You give me that bottle mister or you won't get extra milk tonight"

Reluctantly, he opened his arms and you snatched the bottle, putting it somewhere high. When you turned around, you saw him sulking.

"Don't be like that baby, you know you can't drink that right now. I thought you were a reasonable person hmm?"

The cute pout resting on his lips made you giggle and bend down to kiss his cheek. He was still pretty upset, so he looked away from you. Unfortunately, he couldn't do anything about the little blush on his face.

You carefully held him up and looked at his tiny figure. His long hair was gone and instead, there were short ginger locks on his head. His bluebell eyes however, hadn't changed one bit, still as gorgeous as ever.

You smiled at him. "You want me to throw you up?"

He looked oblivious. He probably knew what you were talking about, but hadn't figured out whether you were serious or not.

Shaking your head to the side, you tightened your grip on his waist before throwing him up in the air, and catching him before he fell on the ground. He got so excited that he started laughing, letting out adorable baby noises.

"Aww, you like that huh? want me to do it again?"

He blinked.

"Ok! Three, two, one! Whoa!"

Chuuya had jumped higher than this before, but not once did he feel the thrill he was experiencing now. He was having the time of his life, flying in the air with no effort. Every time you threw him up, his mouth got opened wider, wider, and wider,

until vomit came out of it, landing on your chest.

There weren't any throwing and catching after that, since you were too busy looking at the vomit, shocked. But it wasn't him vomiting that caught you off guard, it was the vomit. It wasn't milk, it was wine.

"Ok, we need to talk about your drinking problem when you turn back to an adult"

All rights reserved © 2023 AshTheMadWriter. Please do not copy, repost, translate, or modify my works on any platform.

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[nonstoplover]

sleep without you ~ charles leclerc (cl16)

my masterlist | my f1 masterlist

pairing: charles leclerc x fem!reader

song inspiration: sleep without you ~ brett young

summary: charles struggles to function properly without her by his side, or a story of a night without his girlfriend.

words: 2.1K

warnings: nothing, just fluff and a slightly clingy charles baby <3

a/n: idk why but this song honestly screams charles to me whenever i hear it, so i just had to make it happen. also this was supposed to be posted on my one year f1-aversary as celebration (well technically it should be more if counting my childhood f1 years but anyway), but i was so caught up in another wip that i couldn't do it. so happy anniversary to me and f1 (two weeks late) with this lil ficlet <3 thankful for all that f1 gave me.

big thanks to the amazing lovely silverstonesainz for helping me make this better and to the equally awesome monzabee for making me much less anxious with her words. love you sm queens!!

please, don't be a ghost reader, leave a comment or rb!

Charles spends a whole afternoon trying to convince her to have a night out with her friends. Just because they're in a relationship doesn't mean they can't have fun without the other as well from time to time. There are still a couple of weeks left of winter break, plenty of opportunity to spend time just the two of them before the season starts again. So the usual point of view, the usual reasoning doesn't stand a chance – that they should spend as much time together as they can, before he's back to travelling all around the world.

"Go to a club, grab some drinks, dance and laugh the night away", he tells her. The usual bestie coffee dates or walks in the park that she usually raises as argument are not the same as a night out, and she hasn't done that for so long now. Definitely not since he's been back home, and he knows just how much she enjoys dancing her heart out.

(y/n) agrees after a short while, accepting his reasons, knowing full well that he's right, and after a few phone calls she starts getting ready, soon walking out the front door, dressed all pretty and dolled up.

Doesn't take long before Charles realises what he's done. A feeling tingles in his chest, one he recognises swiftly. He's miserable. Solely because she's not there by his side, as he makes dinner, eats it – all by himself –, before settling on the couch to occupy himself with a movie. It doesn't matter though, he doesn't pay any attention to it. He doesn't even know what's going on, he hasn't heard a single line, too busy thinking about her.

When the credits start to roll, he switches the TV off with a surprised look in his eyes – how did it already end? He doesn't even remember the first scene ending. Then he moves into the bathroom to do his night routine, from taking a shower to putting on some skincare products, all the while wondering how long she will be out for? Will she come home soon? Hope tingles in his chest that the answer to his question is yes.

Having finished with everything, Charles lies down in bed, trying to read a book, then scrolling on social media, doing anything to keep his mind from straying over and over again back to her. He knows this is stupid, he was the one telling her to go out, why is he like this now? Lying awake on his side of the bed, the fingers on his right hand tracing figures onto the sheet where her body usually rests.

This is pathetic, Charles thinks. He never thought he would be like this, so miserable and impatient just because she's not at home, with him. He's tossing around, unable to find a comfortable position for himself – it seems like he forgot how to sleep without her. No matter how many times he's had to do just that, in hotel rooms all around the world. The past few weeks erased all those nights from his mind.

The delicious scent of her shampoo fills his lungs when his face lands just a bit too close to her pillow, and all of a sudden it's like he's burying his nose in her hair. It only makes him miss her more. Sleeping is impossible, he knows it now. He's only daydreaming, not actually dreaming, of her arriving home and being in his arms again.

Charles imagines the way she dances in the middle of the floor, her hands in the air, shouting the lyrics loudly to the song currently playing – most probably something she knows and loves –, and he can't help but smile fondly. Just the thought of her having fun is enough to make him happier, even in his misery.

He pictures a scene where a random guy tries to get too close to her, as it has happened so many times, whenever he leaves her alone for a few minutes at any club they've been to. It doesn't matter where they are, doesn't matter if they spent the night so far together, all over each other, someone comes into the picture immediately when he leaves, either to grab a drink for the two of them, or to go to the restrooms.

It's not like he doesn't understand those guys. She's simply gorgeous, and radiates such a vibrant aura that everyone is drawn to her. He honestly just finds it funny at this point. Nothing makes these men back off more effectively than her. Oh, the amount of times he bit back laughter watching the scene unfold from a distance. Seeing men crumble and disappear looking all ashamed, what a sight that is. And he doesn't have to do anything.

He wonders how many times she's had to fight off guys so far tonight, with him not even in the club, and he finds he can't wait to hear all her stories of the newest victims. Pierre never understood why Charles found it so amusing, he didn't seem to get it. The trust they have in each other. Knowing that it's him she'll come home to at the end of the night is enough to make him only feel entertained by each instance, and not irritated at the slightest bit.

But thinking about (y/n) fighting off men is only good enough entertainment for a limited amount of time, and soon the smile fades back into a miserable pout on his lips, as his thoughts turn back into ones of impatience, trying to make time move faster with short little prayers falling as mumbles from his lips.

With a sigh, he eventually sits up, looking around to find something he can do. At last he decides on grabbing a drink himself, maybe it will help stop the flow of thoughts racing in his head. A little welcomed dullness.

He takes a seat at the kitchen table, sipping on the liquid in his glass, enjoying the feeling of the light alcohol gently burning his throat on the way down, numbing his tongue along the way. His fingers stay restless, now drumming on the wooden surface. A few minutes later he realises they play a song, soundless except the soft thud of his fingertips with the occasional louder tap or little scratch of his nails when a finger finds a different angle to hit the table with.

A melody appears in his mind as he watches his fingers move, imagining how it would sound if it was his piano instead of the kitchen table. He would go sit at the beautiful, white instrument and try it, but he doesn't want to be so loud at such a late hour. And anyway, he's way too comfortable sitting where he is to stand up and go somewhere else.

He looks out the window, catching sight of the moon – almost full, just a tiny bit of it missing, and Charles examines the craters that are visible to the naked eye, though only as spots of a darker shade on the round shape.

Maybe he'll name this new musical piece that's being born in his head right now after her – well, if he ever finishes it. He'll keep the usual format, three letters of a city name and a date, only this time putting the time and place of when they first met. Or should it be the time and place of when he first asked her out? Or their first date? Or when she agreed to move in with him? God, there are way too many options to choose from. He decides to put this problem aside for now, he's not in a rush to name a song not even written yet.

As the clock on the oven changes all four numbers to display 2am, the action rouses his attention and makes him tear his eyes away from the moon and look at the numbers instead.

He would've never ever thought that he'd be like this.

Raising his glass he notices that there's only a small sip left in it, which he downs in a short moment. His tongue darts out to gather all the minuscule drops that might rest on his lips still, not wanting to waste even that much of the delicious drink. Then he stands up, placing the glass down into the sink, making a mental note to clean it in the morning before (y/n) wakes up.

Just as he ponders putting another movie on, maybe only as background noise if nothing else, his phone buzzes in the pocket of his pants. Taking his time, Charles pulls the device out, expecting nothing more than a useless notification from a social media app he shouldn't spend so much time on anyway.

Instead what he finds is a text. From her.

in a cab, be home soon &lt;3

Charles lets out a relieved sigh, his lips involuntarily curving into a smile, one that you could almost call giddy. It's not just the thought that she's going to be here soon, but the fact that she remembered to text him to let him know. He's in her mind, just like she's in his, even though she's been out with friends, having fun, drinking, while he's only been at home, all alone with his misery.

Now he can move back to bed happily, knowing that shortly she will join him.

It truly doesn't take long until Charles hears the front door creak as it opens, then the familiar jingle of her keys hitting the drawer in the hall, and his heart flutters with happiness. Finally. The high heels she chose to wear hit the floor with a soft thud as she presumably removes them, and the growing anticipation in his body seems to eat him whole.

Her steps grow louder and louder as she moves closer to the bedroom, and time slows for Charles. He watches in slow motion as she appears in the doorframe, being propped up on his elbows to have a better view, a lazy smile curling onto his face, and his eyes lidded with drowsiness.

"You're still awake?" (y/n) giggles, pausing in her steps for a second as her eyes take in the view he provides lying there. His lack of reply to her text made her think he's already fallen asleep.

"Of course," he mumbles. "Come to bed."

His voice is whiny and he behaves like an actual child, he knows, but he can't help it. He wants to sleep, and he wants to sleep beside her, feeling her warmth against his skin. That's the only way he can.

"Let me get changed first," she starts towards the closet, when a grunt of pure displeasure sounds from him along with the thump of his back as he falls into a lying position once more, making her glance back at her boyfriend. "What, can't wait a single minute?"

"No," he protests, pouting . "I've been waiting for hours."

His accent comes forth stronger when he's sleepy, and she can't help but smile adoringly upon hearing it. He's just so cute.

"Okay, fine, you'll get one kiss," she gives in. Charles resembles a lost puppy and she's sure he knows that's her weakness. She can't ever say no to anything when he looks like that.

So that's how she finds herself crawling into bed, trying to get as close as possible to the boy without causing damage to her dress. He grins, as much as his tired facial muscles allow, awaiting her lips touching his own. His pout becomes even more apparent, right until the moment he finally gets what he wants. His goodnight kiss. It's soft, slow and just so full of love it makes both their hearts flutter.

Then she caresses his cheek gently, whispering a barely audible good night, sleep tight to him, before moving back off the bed to disappear in the closet, leaving Charles to think about how he'd happily convince her again of going out if it means she'll come home to him, looking so radiant, properly buzzing with energy, eyes shining, hair messy but still looking so breathtaking. It's obvious how much it meant to her that she had this night out. He made her happy with telling her to go out with her friends, and he didn't regret it, despite all the miserable hours.

By the time she finishes her night routine and walks back into the bedroom once more, he's fast asleep, quiet snores filling the silence of the room. She bites into her bottom lip to keep in the giggle threatening to burst out, and with a heart full of adoration and a head slightly dizzy from the drinks she's had, she gets in bed beside him, snuggling up close to him, revelling in the feeling of his arms instinctively finding their way around her body even when he's sleeping.

He truly only waited for her to come home and give him a goodnight kiss to finally be able to fall asleep.

[catcze]

dad! wriothesley x mom! reader. mr rizzley as a father to his adorable lil twin boys. one day while reader was at work he decides to giev them a tour in the fortress of meropide and then reader finds out and scolds wriothesley:)) basically just a fic full of domestic and fluff🫶

AWWWGASHJD 🥺 That's literally so adorable ?!?! Damn, now I've got the visiomn of Wrio cradling one of his twin boys in each of his arms while they cling to his shoulders stuck in my brain aaAAAAAAAA

「 CWS : 」 Reader is called 'Mommy', etc. but no pronouns or mentions of readers biology are explicitly mentioned !! Also i didn't have the chance to mention the kids' looks, but in my mind im imagining your kids to look like mini Wriothesleys lmao

Wriothesley knows he's in for one of your long-winded lectures when you find out. He knows you're gonna chew his ear off, and that he'll sit through it and give you his whole attention like a good husband, but in the same way that he can't resist it when you ask him of something, he can't resist when his kids beg him for something either.

"Daddy, daddy!" Thomas yells right into his ear, making him wince. "What's that over there?" Thomas points one of his short arms at the entrance to the pankration ring's elevator, eyes glittering with curiosity. Sitting on his opposite arm, cradled to his chest just like his brother, Edward shares the same look.

"That? Oh—" He stutters for a second, wincing internally. He can just tell how much you're gonna tack on to your lecture later if you find out he brought your kids into the pankration ring. "That's... daddy's old workout place. Nothing cool to see there, bud. Haha. Hey, do you guys wanna see what Miss Sigewinne is up to—"

"Let's go there daddy!" Edward exclaims, trying to jump up where he sits, making Wriothesley quickly have to brace himself to not fall. "We wanna see where you practice beating up bad guys!"

"It's... Let's— Uh."

"Let's go daddy!" Thomas says, gripping his collar and tugging it as if to try to lead him there like a horse.

In unison, they chant: "Let's go let's go let's go!"

And Wriothesley can do nothing but sigh and let his kids tug him where they want him to go.

By the time he's getting back into the elevator to head back to the administrative area, he can say he's a little winded. Just a little, mind you. His kids, however, are bursting with life after they'd damn near forced him to show them every single nook and cranny of the fortress.

Oh he's in for such an earful later.

As Thomas and Edward continue to chatter to him about how cool the fortress is, how nice the people are and how awesome they think their daddy is (that last part makes him smile; makes him puff his chest out just a little bit more) Wriothesley nods along with each thing they say. Adds in a little bit where he needs to, corrects a couple details, but generally lets them prattle on about what they've seen.

"I wish mommy could've come with," Thomas says with a pout, and Edward nods. "I bet mommy has a lot of stories about this place, too."

"Haha—" Wriothesley laughs, but it's a little strained. "Y— ahem, yeah, mommy's been busy with work today, so how about we don't mention the tour today, hm? I'm pretty sure that mommy's gonna be super tired at home so we shouldn't—"

The elevator doors open then, and there you stand, eyes narrowed and arms crossed over your chest. Staring into his very soul.

"—make a lot of noise. Hi, sweetheart."

Your boys, however, all but jump for joy at your appearance, hopping out of their father's arms to run and cling to your legs. "Mommy! You're here!" They both cheer, grinning brightly. And for a moment, your cold rage at your husband is tempered as you crouch to their level, offering them a small smile.

"Hey, beetles," you coo, as they grab one hand each and clutch it tightly. "You two have fun running 'round the fortress with daddy the whole day? I bet you two saw lots of sights."

"We did!" they say excitedly, and in a blur of words and exclamations, they both try to tell you all about the things they've seen with their dad. You let them talk for a bit, smiling and nodding, before you gently interject.

"Sounds like you two had quite the day with daddy. Let's go back to his office— I have some snacks that Miss Sigewinne laid out for us."

They cheer once more like the little boys that they are, releasing your hands as they run back in the direction of Wriothesley's office, barely slowing their steps when you yell, 'Be careful!' behind them. Then you turn to the man himself the glare back on your face as he grins a little sheepishly at you.

"Before you start!" He says, holding a hand out placatingly, "I didn't plan to give them the whole tour. I was just gonna bring them to the cafeteria, then they got curious and... well... you know how they can get. "

You just sigh, the tension in your shoulders easing just a little. Because you do know how they get, and you know that Wriothesley can never say no if they ask nicely enough. It's one of his greatest weaknesses.

"Just— Please tell me you didn't bring them to any of the more dangerous places, please?"

And he has the audacity to snort. "Okay. I won't tell you then, sweetheart."

"Wrio!"

[bubybubsters]

Happy Birthday (Azriel)

A/n: Happy birthday @claireswritingcorner 💕����🎂🥳! This is for you!! Dear mutual, you've been so extremely supportive and it's an absolute honor to even be on the same planet as you. You're so sweet and light up my days with your amazing stories and posts. Keep being you and take care of yoursef! Thanks for being so awesome, you deserve the best of birthdays. From one of your moots and a forever loyal fans.

Credit and thanks to @animatedglittergraphics-n-more for the birthday dividers!

wc: 1500

masterlist

You awoke to soft kisses on your brow. Tender lips move south until the same kisses were being pressed to your collarbone and neck. You let out a soft breath, almost a whimper.

"Happy Birthday, love," your mates deep, husky voice drags you from any remaining grogginess. However, the moment you open your eyes a shining bright light penetrates and you close them again, groaning. "Hey, wakey wakey Y/n. No going back to sleep," Azriel murmurs into the shell of your ear.

You sigh and open your eyes again but now a veined, black wing blocks the light. You make a sound of contentment and send your thanks down the bond. Suddenly, the weight of your mate disappears and the sunlight comes rushing back.

"Azzzzzz..." you whine sadly.

He presses a quick kiss to your lips, "I'll be right back love."

As he leaves, you slowly sit up. With a quick glance at the clock you mumble a few choice words and jump out of bed. It's past 11:00am and you've missed training with Cass. Your weekly meeting with Rhys is in less than five minutes.

"Crap, crap, crap," you chant under your breath as you run around looking for half-decent clothes.

"Y/n!" Your mates' alarmed voice rings through the room. "What in the world are you doing!?"

You glance up to see a bare chested Azriel holding a platter of very good looking pancakes.

"I missed my meeting with Rhys and Cass is gonna kill me since I missed training! Why didn't you wake me!?" You curse, still trying to find a training boot from wherever Azriel threw it last night. "Az, do ya know wh-"

"Y/n," Azriel cuts you off, "It's your birthday. It's the day we celebrate you! I already talked to my brothers and they were willing to cancel any daily or weekly things that you usually participate in today."

You skid to a stop just as you spot your other boot, "Rhysand agreed to cancel our weekly gossip sessions!?" You ask, offended and incredulous.

Azriel rolls his eyes. "Get back on the bed and next time, let me join in on the gossip," he grumbles cheekily.

You smirk. "Ooooo, poor Azzie boy is sad he got left out! Think we were gossiping about you? That big wingspan of yours?" you question smugly.

He scowls, a soft pout forming despite his best efforts to frown. His shadows slide up your body, taking hold of your wrists and ankles and dragging you back to the bed.

You frown at them. "Hey! I thought you guys were always on my side in these petty situations!"

Azriel grins when you are dragged to sit against the headboard. "First of all, I am not 'sad to get left out' and second, the shadows are mad you didn't let them help with gossiping. They love drama."

He sets the platter of pancakes on your lap and you look down to see 'Happy Birthday Y/n!' written in chocolate syrup.

"No utensils?" you furrow your brows, looking again at the tray to make sure you saw correctly.

Your mate shakes his head, ripping off a piece of pancake and offering it to you. You smile as an idea pops into your head. You eagerly take his fingers into your mouth.

The sweet taste of pancakes fulls your mouth and you swirl your tongue over his fingers to get all the crumbs. "Mmmm," you moan seductively.

Azriel quickly retracts his fingers as pink climbs up his neck. He grabs more pancake and offers it to you again. Again you take his fingers into your mouth, tongue swirling around his fingers. You barely taste the pancakes, all you feel is heat spreading through your body. Again you let out an intoxicating noise as Azriel pulls his fingers from your lips.

"Stop that, I wanna actually celebrate your birthday! Not be stuck in bed all day," he hisses through gritted teeth.

You turn your mouth down and raise a brow in fake confusion as you look down to see what you're doing to him. "Stop what?" you ask too sweetly.

He all but growls in your face. "You keep that up and we won't be leaving this room."

"Oh?" you purr suggestively. You lean back, stretching your arms and back and succeeding in making your night shirt rise up to reveal your stomach.

Azriel practically whimpers at the sight, his eyes turning molten with lust.

A smirk grows on your face and you hide the mischievous glint in your eyes as you got to grab some more pancake. You rip off a piece and meet his eyes, extending your fingers to his mouth.

Azriel oh so slowly leans forward and sucks the pancake from your fingers.

"It's good, is it not?" You ask. "You're a very good cook Azzie."

He nods in agreement, jaw clenching tight.

You peck his cheek delicately but now, you're no longer teasing. "Thank you Az. I love you," you say lovingly.

The desire in Azriel's hazel eyes dims for a moment, replaced by pure love. "I love you too, my mate," he whispers.

Azriel beams at you, shadows dancing as he breathes out, "Happy Birthday, love."

A/n: The following are a few glimpses into the day of the readers birthday and how it was celebrated.

You smile at your mate from across the picnic blanket. He'd set up a whole picnic and made the food, even made the blanket for you. Often times you thought you didn't deserve him but right now you just reveled in his love.

Azriel was currently talking about how much he wanted to visit the summer court to see if his wings could get a tan. You highly doubted his wings could get tanned, considering they were black, but you let him talk for as long as he wanted. You'd found out he was quite the talker after you'd got to know him, it's just he didn't get a chance to talk.

You grab your mates hand tug him towards you so that you can lie down and put your head in his lap. He pauses speaking and asks, "Love, are you alright?"

You smile and grab his hand. "I'm great Az. I just like hearing you talk, it makes me feel safe," you reassure.

"Ok... so um... Cassian wanted me to get drunk with him and go to the autumn court to see how mad we could make..." Azriel continues.

You don't really hear the rest of his words, too busy studying his stunning his features. His eyes looked more green today, like the color of ferns. His hair was windswept from flying you around the city earlier and his lips were quirked into a one-sided smile.

"I love you Az..." you interrupt, just because you wanted to say it.

Azriel smiles down at you and pokes your nose. "I love you too, crazy mate. Now shut up and let me talk."

"So Azriel ended up holding his pee for hours because Rhys's father wouldn't stop questioning him about his shadows! It was hilarious! He was crossing his legs like-"

"I'm glad you found my embarrassment entertaining, Cassian," Az grumbles, hiding his face in your chest.

"Thanks brother," Cassian sends Az a wink and continues, "He looked like he was aroused by Rhys's dad! After the meeting we had to fly back to Windhaven and Azriel couldn't find the time before to pee so he peed on the flight back! I bet the plants got watered that day!"

Mor spills wine from her nose as Cassian finishes. "How come you never told me this!" She accuses, pointing a finger at Cassian and Rhys.

Rhys shrugs elegantly, putting an arm around his mate and kissing the top of her head. "Just thought we'd save it till the right time to embarrass poor Az."

You are holding back laughter as you imagine everything Cassian just told you. Az is still hiding his face and now his wings spread out to encompass the both of you.

"It was not funny," Azriel mumbles, looking up at you.

You can't hold back your laughter anymore. Azriel's face is tomato red and his ears and neck are tinged maroon.

"Stoppppp..." he whines, again hiding his face.

"I'm sorry," you mutter, "You're just so beautiful!"

"Am not! I'm literally the color of Cassian's siphons!"

You roll your eyes and kiss him on the cheek. "You'll be fine. I'm sure we'll all forget about it soon."

"No we won't, girl," hisses Amren. "This is something I will hold over your bats' head forever!"

Azriel groans into your chest.

"Y/n."

You turn to see Azriel on one knee in front of you, holding open a box with a sparkling ring.

"Az! Wha-"

"Shush... will you marry me?" He asks gently.

You blink, you hadn't expected to be married, considering that neither of you had any human background. Marrying wasn't uncommon among the Fae, it just wasn't something common for mated couples.

Then again... calling Az, 'Husband', did have a nice ring to it. No pun intended.

You smile at him, offering him a hand.

"Of course, I'll marry you Az."

A/n: I forgot if Fae marry... correct if I'm wrong please. If you made it all the way here, I thank you.

sorry for like, not writing.

ANYWAYSS! HAPPY BIRTHDAY CLAIRE MY POOKIE!

taglist: @thelov3lybookworm @profound-imagination @stargirl1714 @hieragalbatorixdottir

[willowpains]

DON’T STOP THE MUSIC

pairing: drew starkey x fem. reader!

summary: cast member reader goes out with the obx cast to a bar

warnings: mentions of alcohol, drinking, being tipsy

disclaimer: inspired by don’t stop the music by rihanna, the song always makes me daydream!

it was friday night, and after wrapping up filming for the day in Charleston, mostly everyone in the cast had decided that going out for drinks in town sounded like a solid plan, so after everyone gathered their things they split into cars to drive downtown into a bar JD had heard good things about.

you were in Austin’s car, and while he was driving, drew was sitting in the seat next to him, and left to chat and be the life of the drive where madelyn, madison and yourself in the back of the car.

you guys couldn’t stop laughing, making jokes and singing to the songs on the radio like you were all doing karaoke, and the boys in front of you just keep laughing and singing with you three.

every now and then drew would look back and lock eyes with you, sending you a playful wink or replying to a joke you made. this was something normal in your friendship, so it wasn’t something weird for your friends, even though they saw that the way you two acted was as if you two were more than friends.

but that was not the case, you two had instantly kicked it off, even though you had different personalities, that didn’t seem like a problem for you to become close and have a fun time whenever you were together.

at first, you were intimidated by drew. getting to be the new cast member in a show were everyone else already knew each other was hard, and then, when you realized that the person you needed to have more chemistry for the sake of your character was tall, handsome and with a sarcastic personality, it was safe to say you were scared.

but you quickly realized that everyone was really nice and welcoming, as well as getting to know drew and finding out that he was the sweetest man you had probably encountered. he always made sure you felt comfortable with him in every scene, cause even though his character was pretty violent, he always wanted to make sure you knew that it was all an act, and I mean, you two were great actors, and made a great match in the show.

so your friendship in real life was not something that came as a surprise to anybody, you had most of your scenes with him the first few days, so rehearsing and going through lines together was an everyday thing. and thats how you became an iconic duo, as the fans would call you two.

arriving at the bar, everyone gathered around at a table and ordered drinks, starting to chat and laugh at the jokes and funny stories from set everyone was sharing.

“y/n, we should do tequila shots!” madelyn suddenly gasped grabbing your arm, as she was seated next to you.

“that’s the best thing I’ve heard all night!” you answered looking at her “who’s down for some tequila shots?” you shouted so everyone could hear, and immediately approving noises were heard.

“we’re starting out strong huh?” drew asked, as he was seated next to you, sipping on his bear.

“we’re not wasting any time which is different” you smiled to him as you saw the waiter approach with many shot glasses and a bottle of tequila.

“then I guess we should get to it”

Drew got up and started pouring the alcohol on every glass, handing one to everyone as we all cheered.

“to great friendships and an awesome filming season!” chase shouted as we all cheered and clashed our shots together.

before i could take my shot, drew took my arm and tangled it with his so we could drink our shots together.

“we need to do it this way” he said as he finished crossing both our arms while we stood face to face holding our shot glasses.

“says who?” I asked laughing enjoying the dynamic way too much, as well as liking to have him that close to me.

“everyone knows it, this is the right way to do shots!” he shouted as he raised his hand a little ready to drink.

“let’s do it then”

I smiled before we both downed our shots at the same time.

after a few more rounds of shots, french fries and sloppy drinking from the bottle, people around started dancing and letting loose, which made us want to join the fun.

plus, the alcohol in our system definitely made us more confident than usual.

madelyn and chase were the first ones on the dance floor, while the rest of us stayed drinking and eating at the table, watching them like they were part of a rom com.

after a few songs had passed, drew stood up next to me and offered me his hand.

“let’s dance” he said as he gave me a smile.

he knew I couldn’t say no. not when he looked at me like that.

I quickly took his hand as he guided us to the dance floor, where everyone was singing and jumping up and down, moving to the rhythm of the songs.

i was glad the lights were dim, because the blush on my cheeks was something that I couldn’t hide, not when the alcohol made me react to him like it always happened.

Do you know what you started? I just came here to party, but now we're rockin' on the dance floor, actin' naughty

around us, everyone was dancing, and staying apart was difficult, so we found ourselves dancing very close to each other. not that we would’ve liked it any other way.

“I didn’t know you liked dancing” i shouted a little, getting close to him so he could hear me over the music, which was a lot louder in the dance floor.

he smiled while letting out a laugh.

“I’m not the biggest fan, but I know you do love doing it” he answered leaning down as he took my hand and gave me a little spin making me giggle.

lord did he make me feel some type if way.

“so if I told you I love going to the beach and swimming in the ocean at midnight, would you come with me?” I asked getting closer to him, looking into his eyes.

he smirked while he let out a small laugh, leaning down on my ear.

“I would go anywhere with you, even if you didn’t ask me to”

Your hands around my waist just let the music play, we’re hand in hand, chest to chest, and now we're face to face

his hands held me by the waist, while we swayed slowly side to side, trying not to stay still in between the sea of bodies jumping up and down to the music around us.

my hands went from resting on his chest, to around his neck, letting them hang on his back, making us closer than ever.

i could feel his gaze on my lips, as I couldn’t tear my eyes from his, being fully captivated by the blue color, that seemed darker under the lights in the bar.

“I really wanna kiss you right now” drew said as one of his hands went from my waist to my cheek, brushing some of the hair out of my face.

I wasn’t sure if it was the alcohol, or the adrenaline of him telling me that, but i was scared that he could hear or feel how fast my heart was beating, almost wanting to get out and answer for myself.

“and what’s stopping you?” it almost felt like a whisper, but his smile gave away that he had listened to me.

so he closed the distance between us.

his lips were soft and hungry at the same time, like he had been waiting to do that for a long time. and i wouldn’t be surprised, because this was something i had found myself daydreaming of a few times.

one of his hands still held me by the waist, as the other one was between my cheek and my neck, keeping our faces together, and i didn’t want us to pull apart.

how long can someone survive without breathing? I’d be willing to find out.

Don't you feel the passion ready to explode? what goes on between us no one has to know, this is a private show

after breaking the kiss, i rested my head in his chest, attempting to hide my smile while trying to catch my breath.

“oh don’t go shy on me now doll” he said as he slowly lifted my face with one of his hands, softly stroking my cheek.

his eyes softened as his smile took over most of his face, and he laughed a little when he saw my flustered state.

“will it make you feel better if I told you that i had been wanting to do that for a long time?” he said as he looked me in the eyes.

drew just couldn’t let me compose myself.

“now you’re just bluffing” i said as i hit him in the chest in a playful way.

he laughed with me in between his arms, as i placed my hands in his chest, looking up to him with a smile on my face.

“did you really never noticed how down bad i was for you?” he asked as his arms kept holding me close to him.

I smiled as I confidently stood on the tips of my toes and kissed him again, this one being a bit shorter that the other one.

he smiled looking to the side trying to hide his now rising blush.

“I guess i thought something a couple of times, but i didn’t wanted to disappoint myself, it could’ve all been in my head” I said honestly.

drew turned to look at me, and we stayed like that for a bit, staring at each other, being close, and soaking in what had just happened between us.

“well, for the record, this is real” he said motioning to us “and it was never in your head”

drew leaned down and pecked my lips.

“let’s get out of here” he took my hand in between his as we started walking towards the exit.

“what about the rest?” I asked trying to find them in the now crowded bar, while we headed to the door.

“they’ll figure it out” he laughed as we were now on the parking lot.

“and where are we going?” my eyes locked with his, that shined under the moonlight.

drew smiled while he held me between his arms.

“I’m taking you for a swim at midnight, just like you wanted”.

*I loved this one<3

[katyawriteswhump]

(You’re just) too good to be true 

For @astrangersummer week 3 prompts, flowers and/or hugs. Thanks to bananas and yesdanger on discord for the extra prompts to get me going. I have tried to get as many in as possible. 

Summary: Steve wakes up in hospital after everything is over and can’t quite believe how well everything has turned out…

Rating: T. WC: 1460   CW: None. Other tags: Steddie, platonic stobin, angst, sickfic, hurt/comfort, temporary amnesia, fix-it fic, everybody lives.

…

Steve flutters his eyes open and spies Robin sitting by his bed. Mascara streams down her face, and her hair’s a literal disaster zone.

“Steve! You’re awake!” She grabs his hand. “You’re gonna be okay. The doctor should be here any minute.”

Doctor!?! Where the heck am I?

His throat proves too dry for words. Robin garbles way too fast for him to understand and she’s wringing his fingers ever tighter.

If she’s touching me, I guess it can't be rabies.

His memory triggered, the shitshow slams back. First, the bats, the bites. Then everything that happened after, until they journeyed again into the Upside Down to try to kill Vecna.

Oh hold on, scratch that. 

To fail to kill Vecna.

Staring blankly through Robin, he fixates on the terrible parts. Eddie lying bloodied and dead in Dustin’s arms. Dustin sobbing his eyes out. Max was pretty much lost too, and Vecna was alive, gone to ground, and…

What happened next? Why am I in a hospital bed? Jesus, I was fine! 

There’s one of those IV thingies in his arm. He shivers though can’t tell if he’s cold or hot. The doctor arrives, jostles him, talks at him, shines lights in his eyes. He’s not in pain, but his brain is all woolly, and he’s confused and weak and lost.

He needs a hug more than ever in his life. Robin peeps at him over the doctor’s shoulder, bouncing like a spooked bunny-rabbit, then she’s gone.

It’s all too much.

He quits, sinking back into the darkness.

…

When Steve next pries an eyelid open, he spies Eddie breezing into the hospital room. Eddie joins Robin, who has moved to the window to pick at her nail polish.

Eddie is gone, which means… Oh, no, no, no, no, no! I’m dead too? Or dreaming?

His throat is achy and tight. He closes his eyes again, hot tears welling. More memories trickle back.

“Make him pay,” Eddie had said.

He recalls that last, lingering look between them. The one that slammed him like a freight train, because... Wtf? For some strange reason, that moment doesn’t feel like the end of a story anymore.

It feels like a beginning. Which is just dumb. 

Eddie is no more.

He peeps again, watching a dude who is very definitely Eddie pouring bottled water into a vase of flowers on the windowsill. Robin seizes the bottle from him: “What are you doing, shit-bird? Those are silk—his mom brought them. They don’t need water.”

“Riiiight.” Eddie pulls a silly face, which Steve finds freakish levels of adorable. Suddenly, he wants to crush Eddie to him, tell him that he’s insanely happy he’s here, even if this is some crazy dreamworld, and…

… he wants to shove his tongue into Eddie’s mouth and kiss him stupid.

Huh?

Steve licks dry lips. Most bewildering of all, he somehow knows how awesome kissing Eddie is. As if they’ve done it before.

More than once.

Eddie sneezes dramatically. “If those flowers are fake, I’m allergic to WASP chintz. Which checks out, I guess.”

Robin laughs, though it’s sad and nervy. He catches a glimpse of Eddie’s bambi eyes, and they’re anxious, haunted, too. Then Lucas and Max walk in.

MAX? She’s in a coma!

Steve’s head throbs miserably from trying to make sense of this mad place. 

He quits and drifts back to the darkness.

…

When he next peeps, Robin and Eleven are sitting by his bed, sharing a packet of cool ranch doritos. 

Which makes less sense than ANY OF IT.

Robin’s gotten real picky lately about sharing food. At least, with anybody but him. He’s vaguely pissed, because these two hardly know each other. The way they’re huddled on the same chair, like close buddies, suggests otherwise.

Yeah, he’s vaguely pissed. And kinda jealous. He sort of hates himself for being needy... but he really wants that hug. 

Then another memory flashes back. Some alien desert landscape, with Eleven blasting Vecna with everything she’s got. Eddie sprinting toward him—tailed by what looks like a medium-to-large demogorgon with at least a dozen extra flailing limbs—and Robin yelling, “Steve! El’s got this—help Eddie!”

He finally forces his eyes wide enough for them to see he’s watching. “R-Robin?” he croaks.

“Steve!” She leaps to her feet, nearly knocking El and the chair flying. “You’re really, actually awake this time? Please say yes.”

There’s noise and confusion. The doctor arrives again, checks Steve’s vitals, then bitches that there’s too many kids in the room: “It should be family only,” she says.

“We’re his family,” argues Robin. “His parents only come during official visiting hours.”

Robin is allowed to remain. She helps him sip water, and then he says, “Look, I think was dreaming earlier, or off my head on meds, because I saw you with Eddie, and I know that’s impossible, because…” He swallows hard, mumbles the hateful words: “He's gone, right?”

“Oh my God, you don’t remember?”

“Jesus, Robin! Remember what?”

“We won, Steve. Everyone lived. We even got Crissy back. Vecna’s the only one who’s history. If you hadn’t got hurt, it would’ve been the perfect revenge.”

This time, he manages to take more of her story in. He gets lost in the part where Robin and Dustin figure out time travel—some crazy shit about the proximity of alternate dimensions causing rumples in the space-time continuum. The rest of her tale unleashes a slew of badass memories that squish all the terrible ones into the dirt. Instead of Eddie being dead, he recalls…

“You and Eddie totally slayed this nasty-ass demo-squid-monster,” says Robin. “It got pretty intense, and when you survived, you had, like, an EPIC hug. Aaaand might’ve kissed. Then, later, you threw yourself at Eddie to save him from flying debris, then you rolled into a crater, and he wound up on top, and…”

Steve suddenly recalls that moment vividly. Eddie straddled his hips, and his own hands landed not entirely accidentally on Eddie’s butt. Once they’d gathered their breaths, Eddie leaned forward, swiped hair from his face, and whispered:

“About what you said to Wheeler. If you still want to win her back, that’s fine, I’ll back off, but… just so you know, six kids is cool with me, Stevie. Not like we need to adopt. When you’re around, they simply rock up.”

“So, yeah,” Robin says, ripping Steve from these mind-blowing revelations, “it took us half a dozen attempts to get things right. In the final boss-fight, it was just you, me, Eleven and Eddie. We were lost in the Upside Down for weeks, before we exploded Vecna into a billion disgusting pieces. Because you're you, you were closest, got caught in the blast. You lost a lot of blood, but all important appendages are still present and correct, including, um… any important appendages you were particularly worried about. Not that I’m saying you were, but… Ugh!” She facepalms. “This so isn’t where I meant to go with that.”

He faintly smirks. “You dug that hole, not me, Buckley.”

“No need to gloat. You’re gonna be fine. Everyone is going to be just fine.”

It’s still too much to take in. One question bugs him the most: “Eddie and me, erm… How far did we..?”

“I didn’t stand there and count the bases, Dingus! He’ll be back in five. Ask him. But, you know, there was talk of picking out rings, getting matching tats and—”

“You’re kidding?”

“A bit. Seriously, by the third week, you two seemed chill. Happy. I really hope you remember it all soon.”

He takes a beat. Warmth pools in his chest, because everything Robin says sure as heck feels true. He gives her hand a little pulse, and their fingers intertwine.

“Robin,” he says. “At the risk of sounding downbeat, it’s all a bit too perfect. I’m kinda worried I’m dead.”

“Oh! You’re really, really not. I’m all sticky and gross 'cos I was here all night, but… would a hug help?”

He nods, levers himself up a little, suppressing a wince at the effort. He wraps the arm unencumbered by the IV around her, and she awkwardly cuddles him. He rests his cheek on her bony shoulder, and breathes deeply, while she rubs juddering circles in his back.

She’s sweaty and clumsy and real.

“You’re not dead, I promise,” she whispers. “If you were, I’d be so mad with you, after all that effort to fix things. Besides, you still got hurt, and we were all out of time travel opportunities. Long story. Anyhow, it's been hell, till the doctors said you’d be okay, and even then… We’ve been so scared.”

Her trembling shakes through him. He tries not to sniffle, but he can't seem to help it. Everyone survived. Eddie’s alive. Eddie and he are…

His heart gives a crazy squeeze that says everything he needs to know.

“As soon as you’re out of here,” whispers Robin, “this summer is gonna be the best ever.”

(also part of my steve whump fic series on AO3)

[kpopsexstories]

Your stories are so good, can you make a Taeyong one with reader ft. Yuta?

QUICK FIX #21: NCT Taeyong is on top of you while Yuta jerks off beside you *Requested*

Member: NCT Taeyong & Yuta

Content: Missionary, Jerking off, Licking cum

Type: UNCONVENTIONAL

Word Count: 780

This story is part of my Quick Fix Dirty Kpop Imagines series. Check it out for more smut and other members and groups 😊

Taeyong has been fucking you for a good half hour. You're close, as is he. He's climbed on top of you and is edging you on by sliding the tip of his shaft in and out of your pussy. You're squeezing the sides of his flustered body while panting heavily through an open mouth. Sensually, he moves his hips and ass up and down for your pleasure. It feels incredible.

Beside you on the bed, Yuta is laying naked on his back, equally close to come. He's staring at your face while touching himself and stroking his cock. His legs are stretched and one of them is tangled up with your own and Taeyong's. It's been a hot mess up to this point, and it's time for the finale.

Taeyong slides balls deep inside you, only to rapidly pull half way out again. He repeats the motion and soon finds a steady rhythm. His twisted face is such a turn-on. He plants his lips on your forehead while fucking you faster, your bodies moving in harmony. Your mind goes blank when his dick finds your g-spot and you moan.

While all this is happening, Yuta reaches in to touch your boobs. He squeezes and plays with your nipples.

You turn your head to look at him, and his naked body stretched out beside you. The hand on his shaft starts moving faster when you lock eyes.

You caress Taeyong's warm body rocking over you. You stare into Yuta's eyes when he suddenly closes them and begins to grimace. Taeyong starts to moan in your arms, as all three of you are getting ever closer to experiencing an insanely good orgasm.

Yuta is first to come. His body jolts and his grip on your breast tightens. He's jerking himself off fast and you glance down to catch the show you know is about to start.

His cum squirts out form the head of his dick. He sprays his stomach with sperm, and he quickly opens his eyes again to see all of you while he's coming. A thick load of hot cum accumulates around his belly button.

The awesome sensation of Taeyong's dick inside you, his hot body on you, and Yuta's hand on your chest and the erotic image of his orgasm, finally brings you over the edge. Your own orgasm presents itself as a wonderful sensation that shoots through your whole body, and causes your mind to go completely blank. It lasts for several seconds and there's no describing how great it feels.

Taeyong is going faster when you squirm under him. He can't hold back any longer. His face twists and he lets out a loud groan through clutched teeth. But instead of thrusting hard and deep inside you at gradually slower but violent intervals, he suddenly pulls out.

He sits on his knees and turns his body in Yuta's direction. He grabs his cock and jerks it fast, already on so far out on the edge he hardly needs to do anything at all.

You relax your spread legs as you come down from your own high, and rest your knee on Yuta's thigh. Yuta's arm and hand glides down your stomach and he touches your clit, while Taeyong explodes above you both and shoots his load on Yuta's stomach.

“Ahhh”, Taeyong groans.

You smile wide and view the display. Yuta stops panting heavily and lets out a satisfied giggle. Taeyong takes long, deep breaths as he settles his body, and pushes his beaten dick down on Yuta to control the flow of cum.

When it's all over, Taeyong's body relaxes and he leans back down over you. He too giggles, and he gives you a loving kiss on the forehead before he rolls off you.

Yuta lets go of his shaft and throws his head back on a pillow. He grins at the ceiling while collapsing internally. “Holy fuck,” he says. “That was incredible!”

Incredible indeed. With Taeyong's hand on your hip, you roll sideways and kiss Yuta's chest. You stick out your tongue and lick him, tracing his body down toward his stomach. Taeyong sits up on his knees to watch.

The concoction of salty liquids hits your taste buds. While both men are staring excitedly at you, you lick up their cum from Yuta's body. If they hadn't released already, the sight would have made them go insane with sexual arousal.

“Mmm,” you say to tease and play with them. “So good.”

“You're so good,” Yuta says.

“Fucking incredible,” Taeyong chips in.

Sex with the boys is always fantastic, and you can hardly wait for the next time you'll feel their cocks inside you.

[pandora-writes-one-piece]

first off, happy happy birthday to you!!!! Thank you for spoiling us on your birthday.

That being said, my heart is feeling angsty so I wanna request the prompt "Stop pretending that you care! We both know you don't." for a fem reader x Kid (NSFW)!

Again, happy birthday lovely! :3

Hello! @limitlesstildil thank you sooo much for your birthday wishes and for your awesome prompt! Now, I've taken some liberties with it, but I do hope you don't mind! It's now a three part fic of Highlander!Kid, sharing the spotlight with another prompt (to be seen in the last chapter). The NSFW part was pushed forward too, okay? I hope this is still okay! Thank you so much for participating! ❤️

Source for Pic

Mine to Protect

Word Count: 4969

Tags for the whole story: Highlander!Kid; Fem!Reader; Alternate Universe - Scotland 13th century; Gore; Blood; Violence; Death; Mild Angst; Fluff; Nudity; Cursing; Sexual Tension; Explicit Sexual Content; Protective!Kid; Possessive!Kid; Soft!Kid; Feral!Kid; Jealous!Kid; Happy Ending; Sort of Enemies to Lovers; Teasing; Banter; NSFW; MDNI; Mature Audiences;

Special Warning: English is not my first language, I apologise for any possible spelling or grammar mistakes.

Summary: Your father and his allied clans are at war, and you're a liability. When you're assigned a guard to protect you - against your will - you do everything in your power to infuriate him. The problem is that he can be more infuriating than you, as you're about to find out.

Notes: Okay... it's finally here! I coudn't hold out any longer. It turned out to be 16k words, so I've divided it in three (not equal parts because the splitting would be weird, obviously). I edited the first part and plan on editing the rest soon. I will have the entire fic out by the end of the week! Gosh... I'm very proud of this one, I do hope you enjoy, let me know!

Part 1 of 3

|Masterlist| | |Part 2| | |Part 3|

“I don't need a guard!” Your angered cry echoes down the halls of the keep, but the stationed guards at the entrance barely even flinch at your outburst since it’s a regular occurrence. 

You have been at odds with your father, the laird, since early morning and, as night approaches fast, he’s tired of arguing with you. But no matter how much you argue like a wild thing, plead as if he were a deity or present your arguments politely as a lady, he doesn’t budge.

“You need a guard!” Your father says with a firm growl of your name. “We are at war and you're an easy target, daughter!” You scoff, outraged at the insinuation. You might be a lady, but you know how to defend yourself and you’re a feisty creature. “I don't want to hear any more of what you have to say! Out with you! You'll meet your guard later.”

With a screech so loud it could make a banshee blush in embarrassment, you leave the chamber, stamping your feet like a bratty child, feeling much like one since, apparently, you need nannying. And, well, if you’re to be nannied like a baby, you might as well act like one, while you still can.

Passing by the kitchen, you grab a hemp sack and fill it with anything you can get your hands on: bread, fruit, salted meat and grains. It weighs like hell but you couldn't care less. You have a point to prove. 

You don’t need a guard. You can handle yourself.

Night falls quickly and you use the waning light of the sickle moon to guide your steps, the same ones you’ve taken since you were a child. The only difference is that now you’re facing wartime and the streets aren’t as safe as they used to be.

But the people need you and you won’t sit idly by while children starve.

-*-

He was supposed to introduce himself to you as soon as he arrived at the keep, but Kid likes to observe first, so he stuck to the shadows. Despite being big, bulky and muscular, he can move like one. When Kid spots you leaving the keep just as the moon appears in the sky, he realises you're going to be trouble. 

Kid’s sick and tired of being a nursemaid to stuck-up, entitled ladies who think they alone rule the world. Yet, here he is again, his body too broken to be a proper warrior, but not broken enough to be able to retire peacefully. 

With a heavy sigh and a curse, Kid follows you into town, all the while realising just how reckless you’re being with your actions. Your father hired him because of the war, which means nowhere is safe. Especially after nightfall. Especially if you’re a noble lady.

But you don’t seem to care.

He follows you around town while you knock on doors, delivering food and even some jewellery. He hasn’t even spoken to you and your actions are already intriguing him. He’s never met a noble lady who would willingly part with jewels, let alone give them to townspeople. 

Yet, he doesn’t let that cloud his judgement. You think you’re being inconspicuous as you parade around town wearing your expensive velvet cape, with an air about you that clearly states you’re regal. No town girl would have such perfectly braided hair, and fair skin, poised grace, and natural beauty, as well as an elegance to your movements. You’re a dead giveaway for who you are.

And that’s dangerous in these streets.

Tutting silently, Kid watches as you traverse a dark alleyway and, immediately, a group of brigands follows you, their eyes already glinting with greed and something else. Kid approaches, ready to intervene as he’s being paid to do. What he doesn’t expect, however, is the way you pull out two daggers from your thighs and start fending them off.

A grin pulls at the corner of his mouth as he realises you aren’t as defenceless as he thought you to be.

Slicing your way through the brigands, you manage to cut one on the arm and another across his torso, which only makes them more enraged, but Kid nods approvingly from the shadows. There’s more to you than just a pretty face. 

Then you make a mistake. You lose sight of the largest man in the group and he gets behind you, locking your arms and incapacitating you immediately. With a grunt, Kid pushes himself off the wall he was leaning on and grips his Lochaber axe with his good arm. Time to intervene.

It takes only the blink of an eye for him to reach you. His weak arm slams a punch to the jugular of the man pinning you, causing him to let go and fall to his knees, gasping for air. Pivoting, Kid slices another brigand with a swing of his long axe, his guts splashing to the floor with a sickening sound as the man screams himself into shock. With a thrust of the weapon, Kid immediately kills the remaining brigand by piercing his neck. 

He didn’t even break a sweat. 

“I’m not scared of you!” You say, breathing hard, pants escaping your parted lips and Kid can clearly see your fists trembling as you grip the handle of your blade. You mistook him for another brigand. Smirking, Kid takes one step forward and you gasp. “Don’t come any closer.” Your voice is firmer now, a hint of aggression in your words. Good. 

He still takes another step, and with a swing of the axe, he lunges. You shriek and tense up but open your eyes as soon as you hear another sickening slice and the unmistakable gargle of a man drowning in his own blood. Kid sliced the neck of the brigand who had pinned you at the beginning of the skirmish and was getting ready to run away.

“I said back away!” You lunge, place your foot wrong and throw your weight like an amateur. Kid scoffs and easily disarms you, raising an eyebrow as if asking if that’s all you’ve got. You huff and puff like a wild beast and lunge empty-handed this time, landing a punch on his chest which he barely feels. He chuckles again and you seethe, swinging again, trying to hit his jaw, but this time he stops your mid-air, twisting your body and pinning your arm behind your back.

“Yer swingin’ like ye’ve never thrown a proper punch, lass.”

-*-

You blush from the tips of your ears to your flaming cheeks as the man twists your arm further, making you wince. Who is he? He easily took down the brigands who attacked you, but he doesn’t look like a common thief. He moves like a warrior, even though his left arm seems slower and heavier. 

“Let me go!” You hiss, feeling his taut muscles press against your back.

“Ye did alright with the daggers, but there’s a lot to be said about yer footwork. Also…” His large, calloused hand reaches out as he pulls the hood of your cloak down, his fingers brushing against the skin of your neck. “If yer gonna walk the streets of a war-torn town at night, ya better do it dressin’ like a commoner, no’ a noble, aye, lass?”

The nerve!

“Who are you, trying to tell me what to do? Let me go, right now!” He twists your arm more, and your hiss turns into a groan, but you refuse to scream in pain. You’re not going to give him that satisfaction, though it almost feels like your arm is about to fall out of its socket. 

“Who am I?” He chuckles. “That’s rich. I’m the one who just saved yer spoiled ass from gettin’ robbed. Or worse, lassie.”

You lower yourself, sensing a slight give in your arm as he loosens his grip, and elbow him hard in the stomach as you manage to break free from his grasp, hearing him grunt slightly. “I didn’t ask for your help, you brute.” You take two steps back, swiftly scanning the floor, hoping to find your fallen dagger. Since you can’t locate it, you focus back on the enemy, and your eyes widen as you finally take a good look.

He’s huge. Tall, bulky and built like a warrior, full of scars. His eyes and his hair are what make your breath catch in your throat: they’re fiery red. 

“Ye did no’, but ye sure as hell needed it.” He grins and takes another step forward, just to see you falter. “I’m no’ gonna harm ya, lass. I’m yer new guard. Yer da hired me.” He picks up the dagger you’ve been looking for but missed and hands it to you, handle first, along with the one he took. “Eustass Kid, at yer service.” 

By the resigned sound of his voice, he’d much rather be anywhere else but here. You snatch the daggers from his hands with a scowl. You’d much rather he be anywhere else as well but, alas, here you both are. 

“I don’t need a guard.” You grimace as you manoeuvre around the dead bodies, your stomach already used to the stench of blood by now, walk around Kid, and out of the alley, not even bothering to see if he’s following you. 

But of course he is. How is he so silent when he’s built like an Angus?

“Ya sure about that, lass?” His voice is clipped and dripping with sarcasm which just makes you grit your teeth as you quicken your pace. “Seemed like ya needed one back there, nae?”

“I had it covered!” You snap back, hands balled into fists as you stomp your way back into the keep. 

“Aye, I saw. Maybe I should’ve let ya finish, then. Were ye gonna use yer witty words on them? Pray they let ya go just because ya have a sharp tongue?” He scoffs and you stop abruptly, pivoting with a finger in the air, your eyebrow raised high.

“I don’t appreciate the mockery, you don’t even know me.”

He leans down, his face inches from yours with that infuriating grin on his lips. “Aye, I know ya well enough tae paint a pretty picture, lass. Stubborn, reckless, proud.” His hand rises and he stabs a finger against your forehead, pushing you back with just the strength of that one digit. “Prancin’ around a war-torn town in fancy clothes, screamin’ yer noble and ready tae be robbed… aye, real smart, lass!”

You swat his hand away with the swing of your arm, growling as your temper flares. “You don’t know shit!”

“Ohhh.” He laughs, this time, a hearty laugh that sends a tingle down your spine. “Witty and foul-mouthed? What cannae that tongue do?”

“What am I supposed to do, then? Behave like a proper lady and stay in my keep, filling my belly while my people die of starvation? I don’t think so.” Crossing your arms over your chest, you raise your chin high, defying the infuriating man to say something else. 

“No’ what I’m sayin’, lass. But at least have some sense about it.” The grin fades and his voice hardens as he becomes serious. “There’s a war ragin’ and the street’s nae place for a noble woman. And there’s a difference between bravery and stupidity. Guess which one yer tippin’ on, right now?”

Is he serious? 

You don’t even grace that remark with a proper answer. There’s no use fighting with this man. You told your father you didn’t need a guard and he went and got you the most infuriating one of the lot!

Just my luck.

-*-

You’re so pissed that  you have a shadow following you everywhere, that you don’t leave your room for the next three days, hoping he gets bored and just leaves. 

He doesn’t.

On the fourth day you’re the one who’s bored so as the sun rises, so do you. You take your breakfast in peace, your guard nowhere to be seen because you’re in the keep where it’s safe. You can almost feel him as you walk around your own home. It’s a prickling at your nape, a sensation that makes you want to caress your neck. It tingles.

Days pass and you avoid making conversation with him at all costs. You keep running away from him, trying to evade his ever-present shadow, but you fail every time. More than once you think you finally did it, only to find him leaning against a wall –trademark, infuriating smirk in place– or for him to appear whenever you're about to be robbed. 

That is also why you now avoid going into town delivering food. The increase in attacks gives your guard the satisfaction of saving you and it only infuriates you. He shadows you everywhere, always wearing that smug smirk or his infinitely bored expression. He’s insufferable. 

The morning breaks like many others but you’re so frustrated you need to vent. So you pick up a sword and decide to take your anger out on the dummies in the courtyard. The sword feels heavy in your hands since you’re more used to daggers, but the recent attacks got you thinking that perhaps the gruff guard made a valid point. It’s wartime. Two measly daggers aren’t gonna save you. The sword might.

You start swinging, hitting the dummy but not making real damage, and then you sense him watching you. That damn prickling again, it’s like a pressing need at your nape. You let out a growl paired with a curse, and a bit of straw flies out of the dummy as you strike it again. 

“Ya swing that sword like yer holdin’ a broom.” You stop, take a deep breath and don’t turn around, going for the dummy again and trying your best to ignore the annoying prick. “Yer form’s all wrong.” He continues and so do you. Whack, whack. “That’s a good way tae get killed, lass.”

Pivoting around to face him, jaw clenched and knuckles white from gripping the sword, you show him your best leave me the fuck alone look. “If you have nothing useful to say, then stay quiet!”

“Feisty.” He replies with a chuckle and you grunt in exasperation. 

You give him a few more moments of your time, eyebrows raised in defiance as you wait for more remarks, but he raises his hands in the air and you turn your back to him, continuing your dummy slaughter. 

It doesn’t take long for him to speak again. “Yer still holdin’ it wrong. Yer gonna hurt yerself first before ye hurt someone else.” You sense him approaching but don’t turn. “But, aye, let’s just be stubborn as a mule, that also works.”

Your head whips back so fast you’re certain you pulled a muscle. “Are you calling me a mule?”

“Just sayin’ yer as stubborn as one.” He takes another step, his head leaning to the side as he observes you and you feel yourself flush under his gaze. “Yer too stiff, relax yer grip on the handle.”

“I didn’t ask for your advice.” You bite back, venom in your voice and fire in your eyes.

“Lucky ye, here I am offerin’ it just the same.”

“Screw you.” You mutter but still relax your grip on the handle as he says.

“Maybe later.” He grins as you scoff, then invades your space, his hands pushing your shoulders down, the touch sending a shock through your system. “I said relax, no’ stiffen more, lass.”

You shoot him a sideways glance but still do as he says, relaxing your shoulders and your hands. 

Then he nudges your feet with his own, spreading your legs into a wider stance. “Open yer legs wider for me lass, will ye? Now try again.” You flush crimson at the insinuation but still do as he says, though you keep grumbling. When you swing though, the hit actually cuts through the dummy and you gasp. “See? Yer actually capable.” You grin, a small smug smile curving your lips. “It’s no’ that yer a good student, I’m just a great teacher.”

And there goes your good mood.

“Insufferable.” You bite back.

“That too. But damn good.”

You stop your swing mid-air and turn to him, lifting your blade to his chest. “You know, maybe I should stop practising on dummies and start practising on you.” The smirk you give him is devious. 

“Ye cannae take me, lass.”

Glaring at him through lowered lashes, you raise your chin. “Try me.”

His eyes darken and the tingling sensation at your nape intensifies tenfold. You see him tense up but you don’t wait to see what he does next. You lunge forward, sword raised, relaxed grip and a wide stance –like he taught you just now– and he easily swings out of the way. 

With a frustrated grunt, you pivot to swing your sword to the left, where he dodged, and he evades you again, a small smirk tugging the corners of his lips. You suck a deep breath through your nose before letting it out slowly through your mouth, centering yourself. Then you swing again, leg planted firmly on the ground for support.

Kid hits your elbow from below, twisting your arm and disarms you with a quick flick of his hand –the sword clatters to the floor– then, in a second he has you in his grip, your back flushed against his chest, one of his hands at your throat and his other arm pinning you against him, rendering you immobile. 

Damn.

He’s intoxicating. His scent lingers everywhere and the warmth of his body against yours crackles and burns. 

“Yer easy.” He whispers against your ear and it’s a caress that travels down your neck, through your nipples and into your throbbing core. Fuck.

“Let me go.” Lacing your voice with authority doesn’t get you far, as your words fall empty and shaky. 

“Make me.” Your breath hitches and he chuckles, sending goosebumps down your neck. “Yer no’ as tough as you think, lass.” He’s well aware of the effect he’s having on your traitorous body, and he’s using it.

Two can play that game.

You turn your head to the side and tilt your chin up, your movements slightly constricted by the hand on your throat, and brush your lips against the exposed skin of his neck. “I’m not what?” Your hot breath fans his skin and you notice how it prickles before his jaw tightens and he loosens his hold. You use that opening to your advantage and shove him, taking a step away from him and almost gaining your freedom back –he doesn’t let you.

With a swift movement his arm envelops your waist and he pulls you to him again as you let out a frustrated groan. “It’s over, lass. Yer done.” There’s more gruffness in his voice now.

“I’m not done until I say I am.” You bite back, struggling to free yourself but he’s not even making an effort to hold you against him. 

“Yer stubborn.”

“Aye! We’ve established that already. It also means I’m tenacious!”

“Ya dinnae know when tae quit, nor when tae ask for help.” He twists you in his arms with surprising ease and now you’re facing him as he places his hands on your shoulders. “Ye need tae learn tae trust someone besides yerself.”

“Trust you?” You begin and thank the gods your voice is still stable.

“Aye. I’m here tae protect ya.”

You scoff and turn your eyes away from him, his words hitting too close to the mark, making you uncomfortable. You don’t need guards and you definitely don’t need Eustass Kid as your guard. 

“You’re the last person I would trust.”

Kid removes his hands from your shoulders and takes a step back. His jaw ticks and clenches as he nods. 

“Understandable. I’ll be around, anyway, lass.”

He turns to leave and your body suddenly feels cold, though it’s still tingling from the earlier blaze. His words hang heavy in the air around you. Trust. How can you trust somebody other than yourself if you’ve been doing that your whole life?

-*-

Weeks pass and you’re getting more used to Kid being your shadow. You fight like cats and dogs. He’s insufferable and you’re, in his words, a brat. No accidents have happened while you deliver food and money to the surrounding towns, but you know that’s because nobody dares to attack you while Kid is around. His imposing figure is threat enough for any brigand who wishes to rob you. 

You train a few more times with him watching but he doesn’t give you any more pointers and you start to think that maybe it was your trust comment that got him angry at you. 

Like I care.

You try to fool yourself, but you do care. He’s not the best company but he’s not the worst. If you take away the amused snickers, the mocking undertones in his words, or his gruffness, he’s perfectly tolerable. Though he gets under your skin like no one else.

That, and the tingling sensation that doesn’t seem to go away. To add to it, there’s also a throbbing of need in your core that nights alone, pleasuring yourself, cannot push away. You hate the fact that you loathe your guard almost as much as you desire him, and that alone drives you insane. You're hyper-aware of the way his muscles flex as he moves, the grunts he releases when he exerts himself and his strong scent of steel, sweat and leather. Even worse, all you can think about is how those muscles would flex as he handles your body, or how his grunts would sound as he sinks deep into you and how you'd be smelling him on yourself afterwards. It's overwhelming. 

There's the heat and throbbing again, at your core, in your nipples, everywhere! Fuck. 

“Lass?” His voice near your ear almost releases an unbridled moan from you, since you were lost in thought, so you groan and get up from the dining table where you were reading some letters, stomping your foot. 

“I’m going to bed!”

You don’t even look back at him. 

-*-

You retired early but sleep doesn't come easily. You overheard your father's meeting today and learned that there's been unrest at the borders and another clan abandoned your cause to join the opposing army. 

You're concocting a plan to gather information from the warfront that could tip the scales of the war, and if all goes well, you'll have it by the end of the week. 

You toss again in your bed, kicking the covers off with a loud groan. It's unusually hot for the middle of the night. The window is open but there's hardly any breeze, making it difficult to sleep. It doesn't help that your mind keeps drifting to an insufferable redhead –and how there's just a wall separating you. 

Eventually sleep claims you, and you drift into a dreamless slumber. 

You're jolted awake by a calloused hand clamped over your mouth, as another rips the front of your nightgown. You try to scream as you open your eyes, meeting the lecherous gaze of a scrawny, dark-haired man. He’s trying to grope you as his filthy fingers press against your lips with such force, you're sure they will leave bruises. 

If you survive. 

“Aye, bonnie lass, keep thrashing. I don't like it when lasses lose their fight.” He's untying his breeches with one hand, pinning your arms beneath his legs, his weight pressing down on your torso, and panic floods you. You need to make noise. It's the only way to alert Kid. “I was gonna just rob ya, but ye looked so pretty with yer legs bare. I had to touch ya.” 

His hand leaves his pants to grope your bare thigh and you whimper. Then you remember that you can fight back and bite down hard on the hand that's covering your mouth. He yanks his hand back with a yelp, and – gagging at the lingering taste– you take advantage of the distraction and unbalance him. Grabbing the oil lamp from the bedside table, you smash it against his head, scattering scalding oil over his head, your hand, and legs.

The pained groan that escapes your lips brings tears to your eyes as your skin begins to burn and blister. The bastard is in worse shape, but you don’t look too long. Swinging your aching legs to the side, you try to get up and away from him, but he pins you again, spittle flying from his mouth as he leans closer, the angry red welts from the oil are already forming blisters across his face. 

“Burn me ya bitch? Ye’ll pay for this!” 

But before he can act, the door crashes open, nearly flying off its hinges, and Kid enters, his eyes burning with rage as soon as he sets eyes on the scene unfolding in front of him. He’s shirtless and you can’t help but gasp at the enormous scars covering his torso and left arm –a continuation of the ones trailing down his face and neck, scars you hadn’t yet seen. 

“Get the fuck away from her.” His growl vibrates low and deadly and you sense the man shiver for a second. He yanks you up, his filthy hand clawing at your exposed chest, forcing your back against him as he cowers behind you. A small dagger presses against your throat, and you immediately feel a trickle of hot blood running down your neck.

Kid growls again, a feral sound that bristles the hairs in your body and you smell urine as the man behind you leaks his bladder with fear. “Don’t come any closer!” He squeaks, pressing the dagger harder and you whimper softly at the sting of the blade.

Kid hesitates, then stops. One hand grabs his Lochaber axe, the other, a small dagger. You lock eyes with him and then you lower them to the dagger he’s holding, a steely determination purses your lips and you hope he understands you. “Kid, I trust you.” 

He exhales a breath, flips the dagger in his hand, catching it by the tip, and throws it in your direction. It takes a blink of an eye for you to hear the sickening thud as the blade pierces the man’s skull through the forehead, killing him instantly. Then it takes you another blink of an eye to waver forward and away from the man’s crumpling, smelly body, but in less than that time, Kid is by your side, holding you, pulling you against him with another one of his wordless grunts that, somehow, tells you much more about his relief than his words ever would. 

“Lass, yer alright?” His clipped tone masks the slight quiver in his voice, but it’s there, barely noticeable. You nod, still too shocked with what happened to do much more and Kid sits you on the bed, settling beside you. The man must’ve entered through the open window, you think, as Kid fumbles with your bedcovers, pulling a blanket loose and draping it over you. It dawns on you that your breasts were exposed and you should care, but you don’t. 

As the fabric brushes the blisters on your hands and legs, you hiss, jerking slightly. Kid’s eyes trace the red welts marking your skin. Each new one he finds just deepens his scowl. “Fucker.”

“It’s fine.” You say. “I’ll put some honey and knitbone poultice on it. It will heal.” 

“Lass…” His tone softens as his rough hands gently touch your cheeks on the area near your mouth, clearly seeing the beginnings of the bruise the man’s fingers left there. He tips your chin up to inspect the small cut the man’s dagger left on your throat. “Ye did well, but ye’ve been through hell. Let’s get ya cleaned up.” He tries to move you but you shake your head, your breath coming in gasps as the shock sets in. Kid grips your shoulders, trying to ground you. “Oi, oi, it’s over, look at me lass. Look at me.”

Tears stream down your face, blurring your vision, but you focus on his fiery eyes, your lifeline in the midst of a violent storm. “Ye did well. Ye defended yerself. But I’m here for ye, I told ye.” His hand moves up, the caress lingering softly against your cheek, a gentle contrast to his usual harshness. “Dinnae try tae do everythin’ yer own. Ask for help. I’m here for ye.”

A ragged sob makes your lips tremble and you shake your head, swatting his hand away with more force than necessary. “Stop pretending that you care! We both know you don't. You're just a hired sword and I’m a spoiled brat. So stop trying to make me feel better!”

Your breathing quickens as your heart hammers in your chest. The tears don’t stop, everything hurts and you feel so alone. You decided to trust him and he didn’t fail you so why do you feel like this? 

Because he’s paid to protect you. He’s paid to take care of you. He doesn’t really care.

Suddenly Kid leans forward, pulling you against his chest, his hand cradling your head as his lips brush the crown of your head. You cry, releasing hot tears against his bare skin. 

It’s comforting.

“I care.” He says softly, barely a whisper against your hair. “Yer mine tae protect.” A few moments pass in silence and comfort, only broken by your sobs and sniffs. The keep is quiet. You thought you’d screamed loud enough to wake the townspeople, let alone the whole house. But you must’ve been quiet, for only Kid heard you.

Kid cares. 

He cares for you.

To Be Continued...

Tag List: @rosidaze @beachaddict48 @armiliadawn @jintaka-hane @sprinkklz @baby5555 @hopelesslover06 @mars-mizuko @sleepykittycx @nerium-lil @eustasscapitankid @ren-ni @jqperi @lycoriskalmia

|Part 2|

[doumadono]

Hiiiii! I am squeezing into your inbox to

1. Congratulate you on your achievement. You deserved it sweetheart and I am so happy for you (maybe even a lil jealous! Hihi). Keep up the wonderful work and keep bringing joy and comfort to other people!

2. To request something!

I want some Vanilla-Mango ice creams in a cup with Maple syrup.

All of this for my one and only bunny Mirko! 🐇🤍I love ya girl!

Stay awesome!

A/N: thank you so much, honeypot! Your support means everything. I hope you'll like this short piece, and please forgive me if the character isn't quite right — it's my first time writing for Bunny Hero Mirko! ♥

5k FOLLOWERS EVENT MASTERLIST MY HERO ACADEMIA

The afternoon sun cast a warm glow over the city, painting the buildings with shades of gold and amber. You were walking through the park, lost in thought, when you spotted Mirko sitting on a bench, her prosthetic leg resting beside her. Her expression was distant, her eyes fixed on something far away.

Approaching her, you noticed the faint lines of pain etched on her face. You knew about her recent struggles with phantom pains, the cruel reminders of the limbs she had lost during the war. "Hey, Mirko," you greeted softly, taking a seat beside her.

She glanced at you, offering a small, weary smile. "Hey, Y/N," she replied, her voice carrying a hint of exhaustion.

"Is everything alright?" you inquired, concern coloring your words as you noticed the faint lines of strain etched upon her face.

Mirko sighed, her gaze returning to the horizon. "Just another rough day, I guess," she admitted, her fingers tracing the contours of her prosthetic leg. "The phantom pains have been acting up again."

You reached out, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder. "I'm sorry, Rumi. That sounds really tough."

She looked at you, her eyes filled with a mixture of gratitude and sadness. "It is," she admitted. "It's like… I can still feel them, you know? My missing arm and leg. Sometimes, it's like they're still there, and it hurts so much…"

You squeezed her shoulder gently, offering your support. "I can't even begin to imagine how hard that must be for you. But I'm here for you, okay? You're not alone. You never were, sweetie."

Mirko's eyes softened, and she leaned into your touch, finding solace in your presence. "Thank you," she whispered, her voice thick with emotion.

You hurried to a nearby store to grab two bottles of water and some mochi. When you returned, you paused behind a large tree, watching Mirko.

She was someone you deeply admired, one of the few people who truly inspired you. Her toughness was unmatched, and secretly, you yearned to possess even a fraction of her spirit, to be as brave as she was. She was your role model.

You spent the rest of the afternoon with Mirko, talking, laughing, and sharing stories, sitting on that bench. You listened as she opened up about her fears and insecurities, her dreams and aspirations. And through it all, you were there for her, offering words of encouragement and comfort.

As the sun began to set, casting long shadows across the park, Mirko turned to you, her eyes shining with gratitude. "You know," she began, her voice trembling slightly, "even on my darkest days, knowing that I have you by my side makes everything a little bit brighter."

You smiled, feeling your heart swell with warmth. "And you make everything brighter for me too, Mirko. You're strong, resilient, and incredibly brave. I admire you so much."

Mirko's smile widened, and she reached out, taking your hand in hers. "Thank you," she said softly. "That means the world to me. After Jaku and the war, things really shifted," she said, her brow creasing slightly. "It's not like it broke me, but I've been feeling more uncertain. About everything, really. Even my own abilities."

You met Mirko's gaze with a gentle smile. "Rumi," you began softly, squeezing her hand in reassurance, "you have no idea how many lives you've touched with your bravery. In the chaos of Jaku and the war, you were a beacon of hope for so many. Every leap you took, every punch you threw, they weren't just acts of courage — they were beacons of light in the darkness for all those who lost their hope. You saved countless lives with your unwavering determination and your indomitable spirit. Never doubt your abilities, my dear Rabbit Hero Mirko," you urged gently, your words a steadfast anchor amidst the uncertainty. "You are a hero in every sense of the word, and the world is a brighter place because of you. The echoes of your courage will never fade."

Mirko leaned into you, resting her head on your shoulder. "Thank you," she whispered, her voice tinged with emotion. "I think that's exactly what I needed to hear today."

[artificialchaoscola]

I'm sleep-deprived and yapping about zombot arc! Shadow

Wouldn't it have been really cool if, like, Shadow turning was ultimately Sonic's fault in some way? Or in a way that he would blame himself for it in the future when Eggman is rubbing in his face how his inaction at taking the Doctor out is what led to this in the first place?

Like, I really like this. How Shadow immediately sees the gravity of the situation and doesn't appreciate Sonic's jokes, how he tells him its HIS fault for what occurred, and how Sonic after can't retort anything he says because he's not incorrect. It's harsh, and I think it's fitting for it to be so. Sonic is whimsy and a jokester, always trying to keep the situation light, but that's not what the situation needs.

I think everyone generally agrees that the way Shadow went out in this arc stinks. It was reckless and ooc, as well as just generally boring for a zombie story. He literally grabs the zombot of his own accord for no reason and gets infected, and then refuses to run. Like... what are we doing LMFAO

Instead, what if we make a situation where Shadow has to save someone? I think sacrificing himself to save Rouge AND Sonic as well as the survivors in the truck is the play. Sonic's demonstrated at this point in the story to be winded from all the running he has to do, so make HIM fuck up here. Make him get hit from behind, momentarily stunned and for once not fast enough to stop the zombots from attacking the truck. Make Shadow see this, pause, and then at the last second he chooses to save Sonic and the survivors inside the truck, ordering Sonic to go. We could have Omega also be ripped apart a bit before this to really push Shadow's decision. He could tell them all to run, Sonic reluctantly has to follow, and Shadow's fate should be left a bit ambiguous here. Make the reader think on whether or not he's infected or not, whether or not he can actually survive the infection. Shadow's comms are dead afterwards, we have no clue. Imagine the suspense and the drama + Sonic having to live with the fact that despite that argument Shadow still saved him.

(With this you can also have it be a hope that maybe Shadow IS immune, that they can find him and solve this, but in the meantime they'll have Sonic do the tests.... just for the drama... They hit a lot of zombie tropes in this arc we can't miss THIS one!!)

Then, maybe around when Zavok and his posse start taking control, you finally have a moment where they use zombot Shadow. I think having this happen around Sonic's conversation with Eggman would be HUGE, because Shadow would be the representation of how much he fucked up.

Shadow was the one who wanted to kill Eggman, Shadow was the one who gave them more time despite that, Shadow is forced to be a weapon once more, and Shadow is the representation of what would occur if Sonic turned. Sonic DOES mention in the comic that Shadow is "faster than the average zombot" even without his shoes, which implies what it needs to, but I think it would've been awesome to have this moment happen later in the story, after many bad things occur (like Charmy, Vanilla, the loss of HQ, Tangle, etc.)

Shadow is very useful as a reflection of Sonic in general, and while I don't NEED him to be a main character in this arc, I feel it would've been more impactful to Sonic's story to have him be one of the final threats/moral dilemmas. Sonic is so close to turning as his running is getting less effective at this point. He'd think about how Eggman tried blaming him for helping to spread the virus unknowingly, and then he'd consider how zombot! Shadow has likely been doing just that. All because HE messed up in Sunset City.

I do love this arc regardless because I'm a sucker for zombie stories. I think my only criticism overall is Shadow, which I know a lot of people can relate on. With a little reconstruction though we can make this REALLY good, or at the very least avoid the issue of Shadow going out like a total jobber.

...At least we got that one panel of zombot!Shadow chasing after the truck and it was really funny so bonus points IDW you win I'm wrong frfrfr--

[wolfjackle-creates]

Bring Me Home Arc 3 Part 1

Happy WIP Wednesday! So last week, we had a tie between Bring Me Home and Answer My Call. The tie breaker didn't come in until Monday after I'd already finished the entire Bring Me Home chapter and half the Answer My Call one.

So y'all will be getting two fic upates today then I'm going to sleep. I'm tired after a full day of work with a call out. XP

If you want a say in next week's update, vote in the poll!

Welcome to Arc 3 of Bring Me Home! 🎉🎉🎉

Story Summary: Danny's parents find out his secret. It doesn't go well. But he's not alone. His friend Tim Drake, better known as Red Robin, and the Young Justice will not let him suffer.

Word Count: 1.7k

Warnings: fanon-typical violence. This is my dissection fic, but I don't think I crossed the line into graphic. Let me know if you disagree.

Arc 1: AO3

Arc 2: First, Last

-----

Danny waved goodbye to Sam and Tucker as he made his way home from school. They had a long weekend and he planned to fall into bed and take a long nap. And then maybe grab some midnight tacos as Phantom for dinner.

He hummed as he thought about how awesome those tacos would taste when reached his home. Still lost in his daydreams, he unlocked the door and pushed it open.

Only for electric pain to shoot up his arm. Danny screamed, paralyzed to the spot. He tried to pull his hand back, but something held him in place. He fell to his knees, arm still held out and radiating pain through the rest of his body.

“What? Danny!”

“M-mom?” he forced out between cries. “Hurts!”

He could feel his transformation tugging on his core and he tried to force it back.

“Jack! Quick, it’s Danny!”

“Please,” begged Danny. Even kneeling was getting to be too much. Blackness was threatening the edges of his vision so he closed his eyes. He had to keep from transforming. He had to.

He didn’t even have the breath to scream anymore.

He heard his dad’s voice. There was a flash of light. And then nothing.

---

The first thing Danny was aware of was that everything hurt. His muscles were aching and his right arm was practically numb. The next thing he noticed was that he way lying on something hard. He tried to roll over, only to realize he was strapped down. And not just at his wrists and ankles, but also at his waist and neck.

His eyes flew open in shock and he yelled in panic. Had Vlad gotten him?

“It’s awake, Mads!”

Orange filled his vision as his dad leaned over him.

“D-dad?” asked Danny. He felt his core humming in his chest. His core, not his heart. He twisted his head just enough to see a black jumpsuit.

He was Phantom. His parents knew.

His dad’s face contorted with anger, an expression he’d never once seen there before. “Don’t you dare call me that, impostor! What have you done with my son?”

“Dad, it’s me. I swear. I—I can explain.” He tugged on his restraints, trying to phase through them. Only to scream as the anti-ghost shielding shocked him.

His mom’s steps echoed from out of sight. “You aren’t escaping us that easily, ghost,” she spat the last word. “How long have you been possessing Danny?” She finally came into view, goggles blocking her eyes and her mouth hard.

“I’m not possessing him, I am Danny!”

She sneered. “Jack, now.”

“Release our son!” shouted his father. Then he pulled out a spray can and held down the nozzle.

Danny saw the mist approach him and scrunched his eyes closed as he turned his head to avoid the spray. But of course it was impossible. He whimpered as it settled on him, tiny pinpricks of burning. As he lay there, the feeling grew more and more intense until he couldn’t help but cry out.

And that’s when he breathed it in.

It was all agony, inside and out. The mist settled in his lungs, pure fire trying to melt core.

With a flash of light, he was Danny Fenton again. His heart beat in his chest and his lungs screamed for oxygen. The pain didn’t go away, but it lessened. Danny gasped in deep breaths, his limbs shaking in their restraints as he tried to push through the pain.

“Did it work?” asked his dad.

Fingers brushed his hair off his forehead. “Sweetie? Are you back with us?”

Danny opened his eyes, tears gathering and looked up at the face of his mother.

Her expression turned from hope to hatred so fast he thought he was dreaming. “Green eyes, Jack. The ghost is just trying to trick us.”

“The ghost repellent has never failed before. How are you surviving, ghost?”

Danny screwed his eyes shut so he wouldn’t have to see his parents’ faces. “It’s me, I promise. It’s me. I’m alive. I’m alive.”

“Stop lying!” screamed his mom.

Then he felt a sharp pain in his side, followed by a wave of agony. He felt like he was being electrocuted again. In defense, he transformed back into Phantom—his ghost form was so much more durable.

But the pain only got worse. He screamed. His wail was crawling its way up his throat, only to fizzle out into a wave of electricity when it hit the anti-ghost restraint strapped around his neck.

“Loud, isn’t it?” asked his father.

“Let’s shut it up, Jack,” said his mother.

“No, no please. It’s me, Danny!”

They ignored him, though. The pain stopped just long enough for him to gasp in a few breaths. Then piece of metal was being fixed under his jaw and over his mouth. His head was yanked up so it could be strapped in the back. Danny tried to yell into the muzzle, but it muffled all sound.

After that, he lost track of what they did. So many inventions were taken out, used, and discarded. Anything to destroy the ghost part of him or force him out of his living body.

He wished he could obey. That he could just be their son again and not Phantom. But he’d learned many times over the last three years that it was impossible. He was both Danny Fenton and Danny Phantom and spitting himself apart would only ever lead to destruction.

He didn’t know how many times he was forced into a transformation as his body tried to choose the form more resistant to the torture. It didn’t seem to matter, though, if he was Fenton or Phantom. His parents would check his eyes or use the ghost tracker and then the next wave of pain would wash over him.

Eventually, however, even his parents ran out of inventions to use.

“This isn’t working, Jackie.”

“What if we can’t force it out, Mads? What next?”

“We’ll cut it out. You know we’ve long hypothesized about the existence of a ghost heart. What better way to test our hypothesis than cutting the parasite out of our own son?”

Danny’s eyes flew open and he tugged with aching muscles, twisting as much as he was able. His muffled protests were ignored just as much as his words had been.

“Where do you think it’s hiding its heart?” asked his dad.

“We’ll use the Fenton Scanner to find the areas of densest ectoplasm concentration and search each of them.”

His mom stalked out of sight and Danny could hear her rummaging through various bins and cabinets looking for the scanner.

His dad, however, stared down at him, eyes hidden behind his goggles and his mouth in an uncharacteristic frown. “If you’re still in there, Danno, we’re gonna get rid of it. We’ll free you, son.”

Danny wanted to tell him he wasn’t trapped, to say again that he was himself, whatever he looked like. But all he could do was whimper and blink away the tears.

Then mom was back, a small scanner in her hand. She pointed it at Danny and he tensed, expecting more pain.

But he felt nothing. Soon enough, the device beeped and she waved over his dad.

“Look at this, sweetie. It’s working better than I expected. Only two main areas of ectoplasm concentration: his brain and his chest.”

“That’s awfully close to his heart, Mads. I don’t know if we can remove it without hurting Danny.”

“If we don’t remove it, he’ll be dead anyway!” Her last word caught on a sob.

Danny was crying in earnest now, too. This couldn’t be real. It just couldn’t. How long would it take anyone to even notice? Jazz was away at college, Tucker had plans with his parents all night, Sam was trying to get along with her parents to get out of a rich-person function later in the month, and he and Tim didn’t have a check-in until Sunday.

Could he survive his parents for two whole days until then?

He forced his eyes open to see his parents hugging. All he wanted was to be between them, caught up in their embrace. But instead he was strapped down to a hard, cold table.

They separated.

“Hold him still, Jack,” said his mom.

So Danny did the opposite. He ignored the ache of his muscles, the way they protested, to twist and yank and move as much as he could.

But his father’s hands were big and he was strong and Danny was tired. When his dad spread his hands over his shoulders and pressed, Danny couldn’t fight back. Above him stood his mom, holding a scalpel that glowed green.

Danny closed his eyes tightly when he saw her lower the blade. He couldn’t watch this. Then agony as it sliced through his skin.

Danny screamed into the muzzle. The pain was so intense that he could focus on nothing else. He didn’t know if his parents were talking to each other. He didn’t know what they were finding inside of him.

Instinct forced him to hide his core, to push it smaller and disguise it. But he knew that nothing would stop his parents forever.

He had no way to judge the passage of time. It felt like an eternity; it felt like a second.

Then the hands on him ripped away suddenly and new shouts, new voices, rang out in the lab.

Danny blinked his eyes open to see Sam and Tucker above him. Sam was paler than he’d ever seen her and Tucker didn’t look any better. He tried to talk to them, but the muzzle still covered his face.

Sam turned her head away and shouted, “Kon!”

A moment later, Superboy was landing next to her, his face grim. Then Danny’s restraints, muzzle included, fell to pieces. He was free.

He pushed himself up, needing to see, only to cry in pain and fall back down when the cuts on his chest protested the movement.

Sam and Tucker shouted at him, told him to stay still. Their words were fuzzy and hard to focus on. Everything was hard to focus on. But in the brief moment of time he’d been able to see more than the ceiling above him, he saw Tim in full Red Robin get up using his staff to keep his parents away.

Tim was here. And the world went black.

-----

Next

I no longer tag, but if you want notifications when I update, check out the Subscription Post.

After about 40k of writing, we're finally back to the scene that started it all! Only now with 4x the number of Young Justice on hand. About three years have passed between Arc 2 and Arc 3, so they've all gotten quite close. There's group chats. So many group chats. Danny's met more members of the Young Justice (and I may write a few of those meetings in the future which is 80% why I decided to make this a series rather than a single work on AO3).

But on the rescue team we've only got Red Robin, Superboy, Wonder Girl, and Impulse.

I'm about a third of the way through with major edits for Arc 2. So I'll probably start cross posting to AO3 quite soon! Main changes are in what Tim tells Bruce about where he is and what he's up to.