#sorry ran out of time to finish the rest of the prompts this week! will try for next week :3

[miss-bushido]

make the world safe and sound for you

written for @softsteddieseptember week 3, prompt ‘anniversary’

Rating: G

“Happy anniversary, baby.”

Steve pressed his face to the pillow and groaned. “No, my head hurts. Come back later.”

“Aw, I’m sorry,” Eddie murmured, pressing a light kiss to Steve’s temple, smoothing back some flyaway strands. “How late were you up?”

Steve groaned, tapping his fingers on the bed as he counted in his head. “Last time I saw the clock it said 4:30 AM.” He had been pulling all-nighters while working to get his Master’s degree. He was only a few months away from being finished with the program, and he just wanted to see the back of it.

Eddie winced. It was 7:30 AM. Normally, Steve would be up by 6 AM, ensuring he would see first thing the text messages or emails from his boss asking him to sub for one of the teachers at a local school. Eddie grabbed Steve’s phone and winced again. There were three missed calls from his boss, and a flurry of text messages.

“I’m making an executive decision,” Eddie announced, sitting on the bed behind Steve. “I’m telling your boss that you’re sick and that you won’t be able to sub anywhere today.”

Steve scrubbed his face with his hands. “No, I can-”

“Honey, I love you, but you’re talking out of your ass. You need to rest. You can’t expect to be effective with less than 3 hours of sleep.” Eddie put his fingertip to Steve’s plush lips to silence any further protests. “I’ll call her and let her know you’re sick, and that you should be more than fine come Monday morning. When was the last time you took a Friday off?”

Steve blinked, his eyes heavy and scratchy from lack of sleep. “Almost two years ago.”

“Exactly. So. Since you’re not going to work today, go back to sleep. I don’t want to see you downstairs before 9:30 AM, clear?”

In spite of how exhausted he was, Steve felt his stomach flutter at the tone Eddie used. “Yes, sir.”

Eddie smirked, unable to resist giving him a kiss. “Let’s save that for tonight, okay?”

“Daddy?” came a small, sleepy voice from the hallway. The bedroom door was pushed open to reveal their toddler daughter Rosie standing there, clutching her stuffed duck. “We’re thirsty,” she said, her voice low and rough in her throat. Her twin brother, Theo, was with her as he always was, clutching her purple sleep shirt with his left hand, his right thumb in his mouth.

Eddie’s heart swelled to look at them. He and Steve had thought long and hard about children after their marriage, and though they were fine with adoption, they wanted to try and have biological children of their own. Obviously, neither of them could get pregnant (not for lack of trying), so they spoke to the women in their lives; Nancy, Robin, Chrissy, Vickie, to see if any of them would be willing to either donate one of their eggs or become a surrogate, or both.

In the end, Chrissy said she would do both for them: donate her eggs, and be a surrogate. It was almost immediate that she became pregnant with the twins. When they were born, Eddie cried harder than he ever had in his life at seeing their chubby cheeks and bright eyes. He couldn’t believe it was three years ago that their little family was completed.

“You’re thirsty?” Eddie asked, holding his arms out for both of them to come in. Theo broke into a big toothy grin and ran over to jump on Eddie, his light brown hair bouncing . Both Steve and Eddie loved their children equally, and they knew the twins loved them the same as well. But Theo seemed to have an affinity for Eddie: following him around and looking very interested when he practiced his guitar. He even accompanied Eddie to some band rehearsals, but never to one of their shows. Maybe when he was older. He listened with rapt attention as Eddie read to them: The Hobbit, the Redwall books, The Lion the Witch and the Wardrobe, and the paintings he did, while rudimentary, were clearly influenced by the stories.

Rosie could frequently be found snuggling with Steve: she liked putting barrettes in his hair, painting his nails and putting lipstick on him. Whenever they had a tea party, she put a silver tiara on him and a pair of ruby clip on earrings, telling him, "Papa looks so pretty."

How could Steve resist? How could either of them resist?

While her brother went to Eddie, she toddled over to the other side of the bed. She tossed her stuffed duck up and clambered up, crawling over to Steve. She looked the most like Eddie: she had his brown doe eyes and the waves of her hair were like his, though she took after Chrissy in terms of her strawberry blonde hair color, and the way she smiled. “Papa?” she asked, looking down at Steve. “No work today?”

Steve looked up sleepily at his daughter, unable to stop the big smile spreading across his face. “Not today, baby. Papa stayed up too late doing school work.”

“That’s silly,” she said, collapsing dramatically against the pillows. Steve had seen Eddie do that exact same thing more than a few times, and it always made him laugh.

“Papa is silly, Duck,” he admitted, quickly reaching forward and pulling her close, blowing raspberries on her neck, her shrieking giggles filling the air. He still had a headache, and her shrieks of glee were not helping, but he could bear it.

“I keep telling him that,” Eddie said as he sat back down, Theo leaning against him. Theo had Steve’s beautiful hazel eyes, but they were turning more towards green the older he got. His hair was dark brown and straight, and though he was quieter than his sister, the smile he had was pure Eddie. Both of them worried they would have a little hell-raiser on their hands as he got older and got more confidence.

“‘M still thirsty, Daddy,” Theo murmured against Eddie’s chest. He looked up at Eddie with his big eyes. “Choccy milk?”

“For breakfast?” Eddie replied in mock shock and awe. Theo immediately started giggling, tilting his head back as he watched Eddie perform. “There will be chaos if we move choccy milk time to morning instead of dinner.”

“Pleeeeease?” Theo pleaded. “Please Daddy?”

“Yeah! Pleeeeease?” Rosie shouted, jumping up from laying next to Steve, all but throwing herself on Eddie’s back.

“Oh! Attacked on both sides! The treachery! The betrayaaaal!” Eddie kept his left arm firmly wrapped around Theo before he hooked his right arm back to wrap around Rosie. He stood up, both of them in his arms. “Steve! Don’t just lay in bed! Save meeeee!” He yelled this while moving quickly out of the bedroom, giving Steve a knowing glance as he shut the door behind him with his foot.

Steve laughed at the display of his little family, though he was grateful that Eddie managed to get them out of the room and leave him in peace. He didn’t see his phone on the bed, so Eddie must have taken it with him. Which was good, as it meant he could fall back to sleep like Eddie wanted him to.

A few hours later, Steve woke up, feeling the warmth of a small body against his chest. He opened his eyes to see Theo snuggled up against him, snoring lightly. Behind him, Rosie and Eddie were also asleep. Both had their mouths open slightly, right arms above their heads as they slept.

“Happy anniversary,” he whispered, feeling happy tears well in his eyes.

[letsgetrowdy43]

Home Sweet Home—

Nico Hischier x reader

I'm slowly starting to get through my requests from that Blurb Celly I did but couldn't finish!!

Request from @whenmypartysover “Can you pretty please do the prompt "I love you, I swear I do, but if you buy one more cushion for the sofa I'm moving out." with Nico or Luke”

Nico had been trying to get the house as ready as possible for the arrival of her mother, the woman who had single-handedly raised his wife, and this was the first time she was going to see the couple forever home.

The man had been running around the streets of Jersey for weeks searching for all the best for his mother-in-law, buying new duvets and hand towels for her bathroom.

His wife was beginning to worry with the stress he seemed to be manifesting within the preparation of their house.

“Babe,” she whispered as she watched his eyes wander over to the home decor aisle, she said softly, reaching out to gently touch his arm, drawing his attention away from the display of home decor items and to her. "Do you think this pillow would look good with the other ones on the couch?" he asked, attention still fully not on her as her brows furrowed. “You’ve been working hard to make everything perfect for my mom’s visit. I appreciate it, but is everything okay?” As he ran his thumb over the cushion fabric, Nico hummed, "So was that a yes or no to this design?"

His wife laughed at how distracted he seemed to be, her hand squeezing his as she pushed the pillow down so he could look at her, "what's going on?" Nico cleared his throat as he looked down at his feet and then into his wife's eyes “I guess I just want everything to be perfect for her, you know? She’s done so much for us, for you. I want her to feel welcomed and comfortable here.”

His wife smiled, her heart melting as her thumb swiped over the soft skin of his forearm as she squeezed him reassuringly, eyes full of understanding as Nico grew shy under her stare. “I promise you she’ll appreciate everything you’ve done. But remember, she’s coming here to see us, not to inspect the house. She’ll be happy just to spend time with her family.”

He nodded, chewing the inside of his cheek before pursing his lips and pressing a kiss to her cheek, "you're right," he mumbled against her skin as she nodded. "I know," she patted him on the chest as she ripped the cushion out of his grasp, "and I love you, I swear I do, but if you buy one more cushion for the sofa I'm moving out," she threw the pillow back onto the pile of others before standing on her tiptoes to press a short peck on his lips.

Nico nodded, a hint of relief washing over his features as he let out a laugh at the way her hand grabbed him and she pulled him out of the aisle, "Our house is perfect already, now get me out of this Homesense, I'm starting to get Stockholm syndrome," she announced as she turned back to see his face flush from the attention her announcement gained.

He pulled her closer to his chest as they got out into the street, "thanks for keeping me grounded," he mumbled into her hair as he let go of her hand and wrapped it around her to rest on her hip. "That’s what I’m here for, babe" Nico nodded, feeling a warmth spread through his chest at her words. The house might not be 'perfect', but it was theirs, filled with love and laughter, and that was all that truly mattered.

-

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This is not my best work… sorry :)

[navybrat817]

Home Video

Pairing: Dark!Nick Fowler x Female Reader

Summary: Nick has the perfect movie to watch with you.

Word Count: 500

Warnings: Implied NONCON/DUBCON, held hostage, possessive and obsessive behavior, light pussy slapping, voyeurism of sorts, Nick Fowler (he's a warning, okay?).

A/N: The Basement Spouses Writing Challenge Week 3! Character: Nick Fowler. Length: 250-500 words. Prompt: "Test me one more time and I won’t hesitate to wring that pretty little neck of yours." ❤️ A small follow up to See Through You. Written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by the talented @saradika . Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

Nick fluffed your pillow with a smile as he finished setting the bedroom up for movie night. He told you he had a hectic day at work and needed to unwind. You glanced at the makeshift table beside the bed where the snacks and drinks were waiting, but made no move to grab anything. It wasn’t because you weren’t hungry.

It was because Nick decided to bind your hands before he did anything else.

He stretched out beside you, still dressed in his work clothes minus his jacket and shoes. You were completely naked, of course, since he liked you best without clothes. You missed being in your own bed, but you hadn’t been home since that fateful day at the carnival. It was difficult to even look at your own reflection without remembering how he fucked you in front of so many mirrors.

“I think you’re going to love this one,” Nick smiled as he pressed a couple of buttons on the remote, a familiar room showing up on the screen at the foot of the bed.

“Oh, my god,” you whispered as you saw yourself on the television, your body stretched out in your old bed as you touched yourself. You almost didn’t want to believe him when he admitted that he bugged your place. That he knew what you sounded like when you came. But his obsession and passion for you ran deep. “Nick-”

“Told you, sweetheart,” he groaned, palming himself as you tore your gaze away. “You make such pretty noises.”

“Turn it off,” you whispered, shutting your eyes when you heard yourself moan from the speakers. “Please.”

“Why would I do that? Listen to you,” he said, forcing your legs apart so he could slide his hand between them. You whimpered as he mimicked the motions he saw on the screen. His fingers were longer, his touch more possessive than your own. “Music to my fucking ears.”

“Stop touching me,” you demanded, trying to shut your legs.

“No, sweetheart,” he said as he turned the volume up, your cries building in the room.

“Shut it off!” you yelled over the sound. “Stop touching me!”

He took a breath before he removed his hand and licked his fingers in silence. Before you could sigh in relief, he brought it back with a hard smack to your pussy. You shrieked when he did it again. “Test me one more time and I won’t hesitate to wring that pretty little neck of yours.”

“Sorry,” you said immediately, shivering when brought his hand to your neck and rested it there. He promised he wouldn’t hurt you and you believed him. Was it a lie? “I’m sorry, Nick.”

A second passed before he chuckled, but you didn’t laugh with him. “Oh, sweetheart. I’d never hurt you,” he promised, groaning as he looked at the screen again. “But I will make you come harder than any of your toys ever could. And you’ll sound even prettier when you take my cock.”

He's deranged and I love him. 😈 Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Nick Fowler Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[annoyinglyhardsong]

Codywan Week 2024: Day 7 Service Top

Author Note: Here is my prompt fill for Day 7 for @codywanweek. It's hella late but here it is! Not beta'd at all so sorry for any continuity issues. Enjoy some hopefully mushy emotional sex. As always likes, comments, and reblogs are always welcome! Divider by @saradika-graphics, if you are looking for any cute graphics or dividers they have tons of amazing ones!

Warnings/Tags: NSFW MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, gay sex, consensual sex, bottom Obi-Wan, top Cody, kissing, flustered Obi-Wan.

They rarely ever had moments like this and Cody was going to make the most of it while he could. 

They were back on Coruscant with two weeks of leave as rest and relaxation. After a few drinks with the boys at 79’s the General had been eager to get home and have Cody all to himself, and Cody felt the same way.

Having private quarters on The Negotiator made it easier for late night cuddles and more intimate moments, but each time always felt rushed and it was a miracle if they weren’t interrupted. But with two weeks off with no responsibilities, they would be able to fully relax and enjoy each other in a way they hadn’t been able to in months. And Cody was just as eager for it as Obi-Wan. 

The general’s hands and lips were on him as soon as the door to Obi-Wan’s quarters in the temple closed behind them. One arm snaked up around Cody’s shoulders to pull the man closer, the other slipped to the back of his head to tangle in the short hair and curls that were found there, all the while Obi-Wan’s lips attacked Cody’s leaving the occasional nibble. 

Cody slipped both of his arms around the General’s waist drawing the older man flush against himself causing the other man to let out a small gasp. Cody took the opportunity to slide his tongue into the General’s mouth to deepen the kiss. 

Obi-Wan, eager to move things along, started fumbling with the clasps on the upper half of Cody’s armor. Discarding it as they awkwardly stumbled towards the bedroom. Finally freeing his Commander’s torso, Obi-Wan ran his hands over the planes of Cody’s chest and torso, appreciating the feel of the solid muscle even through the material of his upper blacks. 

Growing impatient, Cody scooped Obi-Wan up in his arms, the gingers legs coming to wrap around a trim waist, as one hand came down to cup a toned ass as sure legs finally carried them to the bedroom. 

Cody laid Obi-Wan gently down on the bed. His codpiece grinding lightly into his lover’s almost painfully hard dick, causing Obi-Wan to let out a wanton moan. Breaking their kiss, Cody disentangled himself from Obi-Wan’s limbs, and took a step back to finish shedding himself of his armor and blacks, admiring the panting Jedi still spread out across their bed. 

“I-,” he started a little breathlessly, dropping to his knees in front of the still fully clothed Jedi, “am going to absolutely worship you tonight.”

Obi-Wan had propped himself up on his elbows to stare at his lover, quirking an eyebrow in question. He had thought that based off of the initial tone the night had set that their lovemaking would be hard and fast and rough, but it seemed Cody had different ideas he was more than willing to see just where those ideas led. 

Cody gently divested Obi-Wan of both of his cherry-red boots before pressing kisses up his calf, to the inside of each knee, and up a thigh to the waistband of his trousers. He deftly undid the button on his pants and carefully brought them down Obi-Wan’s legs. Reveling in the newly bared skin before him, Cody smoothed his hands up each of Obi-Wan’s long legs, toned from years of training. He peppered kisses and gentle bites into the skin as he worked his way up. Paying special attention to the few freckles, beauty marks, and scars that littered his legs, and murmuring compliments and endearments into the other’s skin. 

Working his way up to Obi-Wan’s torso, Cody carefully undid his belt and obi before slipping the layers of tunics off of his shoulders and down his arms before gently tugging his undershirt over his head. Revealing slightly tanned, gorgeously freckled skin. 

Obi-Wan blushed under Cody’s gaze. He wasn’t usually one to be shy but the longer that the war went on the more scars he acquired and the less desirable he thought his body became.  It was old anxieties that he wouldn’t ever be enough for anyone manifesting themselves at the worst times and in the worst ways possible. 

Seeming to know what he was thinking without even having to say it, Cody brought a hand up to gently cup Obi-Wan’s face and tip his head to look at him again. 

“Gar’re bid mesh’la,” Cody whispered, bringing his head down to touch foreheads with his lover and press a kiss to his lips. He was not going to let Obi-Wan get self-conscious and spiral tonight. He was the most beautiful man Cody had ever seen and he was going to make sure Obi-Wan knew just how much he was loved. 

He shuffled both of them so they were in a more comfortable position on the bed, before kissing down to Obi-Wan’s neck and working at a sensitive spot there. “Relax mesh’la, I’m gonna take care of you tonight. I’ve got you,”  Cody murmured into his neck with a nip. 

Cody brought calloused hands to trace down Obi-Wan’s sides to guide powerful thighs around his waist. Cody could feel his cock butting against Obi-Wan’s and brought his hips down to gently grind and create delicious friction on their aching members. The motion combined with Cody’s relentless lips drew a string of moans from Obi-Wan. 

“Please Cody,” the ginger begged, arching up into Cody, “I need more please.” 

“Shh mesh’la, I’ve got you,” Cody soothed, drawing away from Obi-Wan’s lips and neck to retrieve the bottle of lube from the bedside table and apply some to his fingers. Taking his slick index finger he circled it around Obi-Wan’s entrance before pressing into his tight heat. He brought his other hand down to close loosely around his and Obi-Wan’s cocks and pump while he set to the task of opening Obi-Wan up. 

Slipping a second and then third finger into Obi-Wan had the ginger moaning wantonly. “I need you Cody, please, don’t make me wait.”

Cody carefully withdrew from Obi-Wan, earning a small whimper from a loss of contact, before adding more lube to his aching cock and pressing into Obi-Wan. 

“Mesh’la you feel so good,” Cody moaned. “Always take me so well.”

The praise had the ginger keening underneath Cody as he set a relaxed pace. Pulling out and thrusting back in deeply, “You’re so beautiful, and you sound so good like this.” 

They got lost in the motion and the feel of it all. Cody enjoying the tight heat of Obi-Wan and Obi-Wan relishing in the warm stretch that Cody’s hard length gave. 

Cody’s goal for this wasn’t just their standard love making. Cody wanted to watch Obi-Wan absolutely fall apart under and around him. He wanted Obi-Wan to know he was loved and maybe be a little sore the next day. Wanting a better angle Cody shifted Obi-Wan’s legs from around his waist to rest on his shoulders, pressing his knees up towards his chest, and wrapping his hands around Obi-Wan’s hips to pull the other man closer. “You feel absolutely amazing Obi,” Cody panted, thrusting into Obi-Wan. Bringing the knee by his left shoulder a little closer and pressing a gentle kiss to the skin there. 

On his next thrust in Obi-Wan could feel Cody’s cockhead brushing against a spot that had him keening. Between the compliments Cody kept murmuring to him and the pressure against his prostate Obi-Wan’s mind was blissfully blank, overcome with the pleasure and love radiating off of his cyare. 

Cody knew from the look on Obi-Wan’s face that he was getting close and that his plan was working. Obi-Wan was always a little bashful when it came to compliments and it was no surprise how well that worked in Cody’s favor in the bedroom. Knowing the other man was going to be getting close he decided to see just how affected his words could make the great Negotiator. 

“Are you feeling good love? It feels like it. The way you’re clenching around me is absolutely divine.” He said between thrusts, unrelenting on his lover’s prostate, Obi-Wan whimpering beneath him. 

“Have I ever told you how much I love doing this? I could worship you all day just like this. You’re so beautiful I would love to just have a day with you like this. See how many times I can get you to cum for me,” Cody panted, increasing the pace as he could feel Obi-Wan winding up getting ready to release, tendrils of Obi-Wan’s own emotions leaking out into the Force through his shields. It wouldn’t be long now, just the right push. 

“But you know what my favorite part is? Feeling you absolutely shatter around me. You project in the Force when you’re with me and its so addicting knowing just how good I make you feel.” Cody all but moaned, feeling Obi-Wan’s pleasure starting to peak, his own influenced by it and not far behind. 

“Cum for me Obi-Wan, let me feel you.” At that Obi-Wan tipped over the edge, arching up into Cody with a cry, limbs tensing as his cock shot ropes of cum between both of them. The Force opening up and Obi-Wan releasing all of the pleasure and emotions of lust and love out in a wave around Cody. The intensity of it nearly took Cody’s breath away and with a few more thrusts against Obi-Wan’s vice-like limbs, Cody was burying himself deep within Obi-Wan and moaning out his release. 

Coming down from their highs, Cody carefully moved Obi-Wan’s legs from his shoulders, and slid his softening member from Obi-Wan. The other man, hissing at the loss of contact. Giving Obi-Wan a quick peck on the lips, Cody disentangled himself from Obi-Wan to grab a wet cloth from the fresher and gently clean up his auburn haired love. 

Returning the cloth to the laundry basket, Cody arranged their limbs so they were comfortably cuddling. One of Cody’s arms to act as a pillow for Obi-Wan’s head, forehead resting against Cody’s chest, his other arm coming to wrap around Obi-Wan’s back to lightly rub up and down his back and occasionally card through the short hair at the back of his head, their legs entwined comfortably. Obi-Wan hummed contentedly and nuzzled further into Cody’s chest, using the Force to pull the blankets up over them tucking them into a cocoon of warmth and love. 

“I love you,”Cody murmured into Obi-Wan’s hair where his cheek was nuzzled. “Always.”

“I love you too,” Obi-Wan said back, fighting off sleep. “Always.”

Feeling Obi-Wan’s breaths even out and deepen into sleep, Cody felt himself start to relax as well. Content and ridiculously in love Cody drew his arms a little tighter around the man in front of him and drifted off to sleep. 

[racingliners]

@hypersoft-fest Week 8: Any prompt (Romcom)

George/Lewis - Royalty AU & Arranged Marriage, 5k, no warnings apply

Hypersoft Publications are delighted to present an excerpt from RL Aston's upcoming modern royalty romance novel, set for publication in Spring 2025 - Forces

“Father you can’t do this!” George had gotten up from the settee and taken a few steps forward before he realised it was pointless. When the King had left the room it would have taken an earthquake to change his mind.

He thought that being the youngest Prince meant he would have more time, he thought that both his siblings being married meant he’d be spared the pressure to marry, he thought… well clearly what George thought didn’t matter to anyone but himself, and maybe his private secretary Marcus.

“I mean…” Alex, a fellow Prince in the Thai royal family, ran a hand down his face and let out a long sigh once George had finished updating his friend on the latest and frankly terrifying development in his life.

On one of the most beautiful Saturday’s of the year at the end of April they were taking part in a charity polo match at Blenheim Palace. George and Alex were taking advantage of both being on the same team and there being a break in play to take shelter in one of the canvas tents, so George could have his minor breakdown in relative privacy.

“It doesn’t sound like an arranged marriage-”

“What else would you call it then?!” George exclaimed abruptly, failing his arms wide as he spoke. It was a wonder he’d managed to hold on to his polo mallet.

“Careful George,” Alex cast a cautious look at his friend. “You’ll either hurt someone or yourself with that thing.”

“Well,” George scoffed. “I’m about to have a husband who’ll take care of everything for me so who gives a fu-” Strangely, and thankfully, George was holding his mallet at the hammer end. And right as he swung his arm holding the mallet wide, a figure walked into the tent and yelled loudly when the end of the handle smacked into their nose.

Alex was on the scene almost immediately, first checking to see if the person’s nose was broken and secondly hurriedly looking around for a first aid kit. George meanwhile was completely frozen into place as his mind went into overdrive with recalling all of the guests at the polo match, and who would be the absolute worst case scenario to break their nose. All George could see was a masculine frame, dark skinned hands and fine braids tied in a ponytail.

“Ah… fuck,” The man winced as he removed his hands from his face, revealing himself to be Sir Lewis Hamilton, the eldest son of the Duke and Duchess of Northamptonshire. He’d been fairly high up the worst case scenario list mainly because George didn’t know him all that well. They’d said hello at the odd gala, discussed a speech here and there, nothing more.

“I am… so sorry I-”

Lewis looked up at George with dark brown eyes that didn’t exactly look pleased, once again causing George’s brain to freeze.

“Is it broken?” George said instead of an apology.

“No I don’t think so,” Lewis however did dab at the blood slowly coming out of his nose and grimaced right as Alex returned with a first aid kit. George hadn’t even noticed that he’d left.

“I have loads of brothers and sisters,” Alex said with a shy laugh, waving his hands around in Lewis’ direction. “I’ve dealt with nosebleeds my whole life, this is nothing.” There was something about Alex’s flippancy for the whole situation, as if sons of Dukes walked into tents where Princes were swinging about polo mallets all the time, that seemed to relax both Lewis and George while Alex patched Lewis up. “There, good as new… though maybe take it easy for the rest of the day just in case.” He cast a cautious look over Lewis before closing the first aid kit with a firm click.

“Thank you.” Lewis gave Alex a small nod before glancing over at George, who had been absolutely no help despite very much being the cause of the problem. “And sorry for disturbing you, Your Highness… I’m clearly in the wrong tent.” Before George could string together an appropriate apology in his head, Lewis had left the tent almost as quickly as he’d arrived.

George immediately dropped his polo mallet and flopped down into the nearest chair. He buried his head in his hands and had to fight the urge to claw his fingers into his scalp. First the fact that he was only six days away from meeting the first of the three potential husbands his parents had picked out for him, now he’d almost broken the nose of a very well respected member of society. George silently hoped for his sake that he never saw Lewis Hamilton ever again, he’d probably turn as red as his polo shirt.

Alex, ever the wonderful friend, gently patted George on the back in his moment of need.

“Just don’t hit any of the horses as well, I can’t help you with that.”

George looked up, and hoped for a split second that Alex would get hit by a stray bolt of lightning.

“Fuck you.”

It had been obvious from the moment George woke up that the palace staff had been in overdrive since at least 6am. At breakfast he could see clusters of people walking briskly up and down the corridors and stairwells that led to the palace kitchen. The first of George’s potential husbands would be arriving for afternoon tea at exactly 3pm, and from the second he’d finished his last bite of toast his parents had been hovering over and around him like incessant bees.

Remember to smile George, remember your etiquette George, be charming George. No don’t wear the green tie it’s goo garish, the ice blue one brings out your eyes. Stop frowning George. Your hair is too curly today George, it needs to be more slicked back.

By 11am he wanted to lock himself in the nearest cupboard for all eternity.

“I’m sorry about all of this,” Marcus said with a long sigh at lunch. Chef had made leek and potato soup and George could barely stomach looking at it. “But today might not be as terrible as you think.”

“Am I not at least allowed to know who I’m meeting today?” George looked out the window of his state apartment that had a wonderful view of The Mall. It was yet another gorgeous Spring day with a bright blue sky. The leaves in the trees were undisturbed by any breeze and the tourist crowd in front of the palace gates was slightly larger than usual – probably due to the good weather.

“Sadly not, your parents want it to be a surprise.”

George scoffed and slouched in his chair just to prove a point even though his parents weren’t there to see it. “Do they think we’re going to have some miraculous love at first sight sort of thing?”

“Probably.” Marcus said dryly, and finished the last bite of his dinner roll. “You should eat, I’m certainly not doing any of this on an empty stomach.”

George finally turned away from the window and looked down at the plate in front of him. Next to his bread roll was a small pat of garlic butter, instead of plain. Chef always knew how much George liked it. With a small smile, George sat up and slowly ate his soup that was thankfully still warm.

At ten to three he was changed into his slate grey three piece suit with a pale blue tie fastened in a Windsor knot, and walked behind his parents to the courtyard entrance where mystery future husband number one (as Alex had decided to call him) would be arriving by car any second. Already George’s hands felt clammy and his shirt collar too tight, but he took in a deep breath and buried his discomfort as far down as he could. If his parents wanted the handsome, charming Prince to be on show then that was exactly who they would get.

Once George was stood just behind and adjacent to his parents he quickly glanced over at Marcus out of the corner of his eye, and saw his secretary looking back at him with a reassuring smile.

George would be fine, he’d eventually realised after lunch. He’d been to countless state dinners, charity galas and banquets, over the course of his life. This afternoon tea would probably last an hour at most. If anything George was starting to worry about his mystery suitor, and if he knew exactly what he was about to walk in to.

Through one of the windows George saw a black Mercedes enter the courtyard and he stood a little bit straighter while Andrew, the palace’s Chief of Staff, went outside to greet him. All George heard was the sound of a door opening and a mumbling of voices. The heavy wooden door and stone palace walls were too thick for any distinct sound to pass through.

“Sir Lewis Hamilton, Your Majesty.” Andrew announced when he walked back through the door. George blinked rapidly, certain that he’d misheard and that someone else was three paces behind Andrew. But then Lewis, Sir Lewis, walked in wearing a pale grey suit with a lavender jacquard waistcoat and matching tie, with one of his staff following close behind him. The man, who wore glasses and had short, dark hair that was grey at the temples, shared a quick look and small nod with Marcus. The private secretaries of the British upper class did all know each other to some degree after all.

“Thank you for inviting me to the palace Your Majesty.” Lewis said to George’s father with a warm, bright smile, as if this was just another day for him. George on the other hand could feel beads of sweat forming at his temple and on the back of his neck. He felt warm all over, and that his shirt collar was about to strangle him at any moment. Though the ground swallowing him whole without any warning would have been much more preferable.

“Thank you so much for coming.” His mother’s gentle hand on George’s shoulder somewhat pulled him back into the present.

“I’m afraid my wife and I have a rather busy schedule today, but Prince George will be joining you for tea.”

Lewis looked over at George, his eyes all warm and dark brown and… had a small twinge of concern within them.

“Please just call me George.” The words rapidly flew out of his mouth before Lewis could bow say ‘Your Highness’.

“George.” Lewis said softly, and even with a small smile. George was starting to wonder if the polo match last week had just been a bizarre fever dream. It was almost like the mallet incident had been completely forgotten about. Or, much more likely, Sir Lewis Hamilton was an utterly fantastic actor and his talents were wasted on the aristocracy. “It’s an honour to meet you properly at last.”

George’s mother quickly cleared her throat. George should have instigated a handshake by now.

“The pleasure’s mine,” He jutted his right hand out, and every single muscle in his arm was tense as he watched Lewis’ hand glide into his. The handshake was firm, but warm. All George could think about was how soft Lewis’ skin was beneath his fingers. “I…”

“Tea is being served on the West Terrace, perhaps afterwards George can take you on a tour of the gardens…” The soft tones of The Queen’s voice caused Lewis to drop George’s hand and fall in step with her as she, George’s father, Andrew, Lewis and the man George assumed to be his secretary all left the foyer while George’s feet remained glued to the stone floor.

“We’ll be just a minute.” Marcus said to Andrew quietly, the look on his face was enough for the two of them to be left alone. George had told Marcus about the incident with Lewis and the polo mallet in a blind panic while they were in the car on their way back to the palace. Marcus had just reassured him that so long as Lewis didn’t need to go to hospital then it would all be a simple mishap that would be forgotten about in a few weeks.

Once George and Marcus were alone in the foyer, George allowed himself one whole second to breathe before speaking with a rather freeing sense of clarity.

“I’m flinging myself off the nearest balcony.”

“No you’re not.”

“Yes I am.” George nodded to himself and took a firm step towards the courtyard.

“No- George,” The sternness in Marcus’ voice was what managed to stop George in his tracks, and he slowly turned round. “You are going to be yourself, and see this through.”

“You say that as if you’ve had a hand in all of this.” George looked at his personal secretary of just over 18 months with a heavy frown.

Marcus rolled his eyes and tucked his folio under his arm so he could quickly fix George’s tie.

“I wasn’t going to let your parents marry you off to the first eligible man they saw you know.”

George let out a long sigh and pinched the bridge of his nose.

“If anything, you can use this as an opportunity to properly apologise for being such an idiot.”

George couldn’t help but let out a small chuckle, it was better than crying or being distressed about the strange scenario he found himself in. And after catching his breath and giving himself the smallest of peptalks, he walked alongside Marcus over to the West terrace.

“My apologies,” George flashed a perfectly charming smile at his parents. “I couldn’t decide if I needed my sunglasses, it’s so bright today.” He turned to Lewis who was stood with his hands clasped behind his back. A round table had been set out on the stone terrace with two chairs sat opposite each other. While no cakes or scones were in sight, it had been draped with a crisp white table cloth and had the palace’s finest tableware in front of each chair with the afternoon sun glinting off the silver cutlery. “Has someone asked what tea you’d like?” George asked Lewis, remembering to be the attentive host.

“Green please, if that’s possible.”

“Certainly, I’ll inform the kitchen.” Andrew said and almost immediately disappeared inside. George’s parents, plus Marcus and Lewis’ secretary followed suit, leaving George and Lewis alone. The air remained still with no hint of a breeze, and in the distance George could hear the sound of birds tweeting in the trees. It was quite perfect.

“You’re welcome to sit down, any chair you like.”

Lewis opted for the chair closest to him, and quietly sat down. George quickly did the same.

“I um…” He didn’t know where to begin. The apology for almost breaking Lewis’ nose, or revealing to Lewis why he was really at the palace. “I have to apologise for what happened at the polo match at Blenheim Palace last week,” He curled his hands into fists under the table so he could maintain eye contact with Lewis.

“It was my own fault,” Lewis briefly bit down on his bottom lip. “I should have knocked… well you can’t knock on a tent but you know what I mean.” He added with a shy laugh. “I wanted to introduce myself to you somewhere quiet before all of this.” He vaguely waved a hand around in the air, gesturing to the palace and grounds around him.

George once again found himself dumfounded in Sir Lewis Hamilton’s presence without a single word coming out of his mouth. “You know?! About…” He spluttered before trailing off in disbelief.

“Well, in the sense that Bono and I put two and two together. Especially when you were all your father talked about when he sought me out last week.” Lewis paused as one of the doors opened and their afternoon tea was brought out. George’s parents must have insisted on the china, white patterned with blush pink. It was the same set used at Cara’s wedding breakfast.

“Thank you Matt.” George said with a smile to the palace’s Head Butler.

“You’re welcome Your Highness, Sir Hamilton.” He bowed slightly, and quickly left.

The scones, tiny lemon tarts, macarons and finger sandwiches would all have been made fresh, as by the looks of things was the small dishes of strawberry and apricot jam.

“Go ahead, please,” George waved a hand at the table. “You do not need to start eating when I do.”

Lewis snickered, and poured himself tea. George watched the pale green liquid flow seamlessly from the spout of the teapot to the teacup, and waited until Lewis had set the pot back down before speaking again.

“And if you need anything else please just ask.” George reached for his own teapot, which would likely be filled with steaming Earl Grey, and filled his cup before adding a splash of milk.

“So, is this were we get to know each other?” Lewis first examined the contents of the tea stand, and then quickly glanced over at George.

Most of what George knew about Lewis came from passing comments and snippets of news articles. He had interests in fashion and music, and was apparently quite the skilled pianist. And as for George, most of his life had the tendency to get splashed across the front pages. Everyone knew his secrets moments after George had discovered them.

They talked about the weather, and the food in front of them. Lewis said with a small blush in his cheeks that he hoped George’s parents weren’t secretly watching from a window on the first floor. And while George didn’t say it out loud, he didn’t put it past them. It was a shame really, if George’s parents weren’t the King and Queen of the United Kingdom, he would probably get on with them quite well.

“If you’d figured out that my parents are only interested in marrying me off…” George shook his head and sighed once he’d finished his first sandwich. He was grateful at least that he hadn’t been the one to drop the bombshell right on Lewis’ head. “I’m very surprised you still came here.”

Lewis leaned back in his chair, and glanced over his shoulder at the perfectly manicured lawn that was once again set to host many a garden party this Summer. One of them had likely been earmarked for George to attend with his new boyfriend, whoever he turned out to be.

“I might not be royalty, but I’m still nobility.” Lewis spoke with the air of the son of a Duke. The Larbalestier’s had been gifted the peerage of Northamptonshire over a century ago, and it had caused quite a stir at the time when Lewis’ father married into the family. But their reputation within society was spotless. Lewis had earned his Knighthood through his various charity work, both through sports and the arts to give children from disadvantaged and ethnic minority backgrounds a chance that no one else would.

“In an ideal world, at least according to my father,” Lewis continued. “I would have gotten married myself a long time ago.” There had been rumours of Lewis being involved with a German socialite just over ten years ago, and even louder speculation of a rather messy break up that followed three years later. “At least this way… maybe we both get some kind of say in how this will all play out.”

George bit down on his lip and looked down at his empty plate while his leg started to bounce nervously.

“We hardly know each other.” George’s voice came out breathless, like the air was being squeezed out of his lungs.

“From what I’ve heard, you seem like a very good man.”

George had to fight himself not to scoff in reply. Whoever Lewis’ source was, it probably wasn’t Alex.

“You’re clearly very brave if you’re willing to jump head first into The Royal Family.” George gulped and reached out for a sandwich, ham and mustard by the looks of it, and immediately let it fall onto his plate with a small thud.

“Like I said,” Lewis paused to bring his teacup to his lips. “I’m nobility already, I know exactly what I’d be getting myself in for.”

George could see it all now, the headlines, the news features, the questions, jokes about who would propose to who… it sounded like hell. As if the spotlight on him wasn’t bright enough. It was part of the reason why George had never gone out of his way to find someone, he was too terrified at what that kind of pressure would do to someone from the outside. That they might end up resenting George forever for something he had no way of controlling.

“Why me?”

“I’ve heard you speak a lot about how you wish your family would do more, not just with charity work but… real lasting action. That was what you said in your speech at the COP summit last year right?”

George slowly nodded. He had no idea Lewis had been in attendance, let alone had found George’s opening speech so interesting that he’d chosen to remember it.

“Well, maybe together we can.”

Lewis had clearly been thinking about the practicalities of the potential arrangement a lot longer than George had. Marriages in the Royal Family were never just for love, it was about spectacle and image and simply just doing what was expected. And while credit where credit was due this iteration of the monarchy had been free from scandal, but to some they weren’t very interesting either. George could immediately see his parents plans now, host a big Royal wedding while making themselves look relevant to society at the same time. Quite the power move.

“Believe me when I say that I’ve spent a long time this past week thinking about this.” Lewis said firmly. “And I like to think that… if any shit hit the fan I would have my husband there to support me, and vice versa.”

“Yes… yes of course you would.” George said quietly, with every ounce of sincerity he could muster. While he still wasn’t particularly keen on the idea, he still like to think himself as capable of being kind to the poor soul who ended up marrying him.

He let out a long shaky breath, and ate his second sandwich in two bites. Very undignified behaviour for such a handsome young Prince.

“I still feel like I have to apologise for you ending up being involved in all of this.” George said once he’d taken a large gulp of his tea. Lewis just looked down at the crumbs on his plate and let out a small hum.

“As I said, my parents want me to be engaged within a year since they’re… rather desperate for me to not be single any longer. And it’s not that I don’t want a family someday, because I do,” As Lewis looked up at George, he could see a small flicker of warmth in his eyes. “I just want to have some choice over who I spend the rest of my life with.”

“And you feel like this is you having a choice.” George scoffed, and picked up a macaron without looking and ate it in one bite.

“I could have just about gotten out of this if I wanted. You would be amazed at the number of dinners Bono has managed to get me out of.” Lewis said with a small shake of the head. “Sorry, I’m supposed to call him Peter in such a formal setting, but he hates it.”

It was strange. It was almost like Lewis was giving George advise on how to say hello to Bono when they met for the first time. As if all of this was going to go somewhere.

“But, if I’m not to your taste then-”

“Oh no!” George exclaimed so loudly his knee accidentally hit the bottom of the table and caused everything to move a couple of millimetres. “Your complete honesty is… so refreshing. You’ve no idea.” Lewis was also unbearably handsome. Well-groomed stubble that looked stylish, not scruffy. Flawless skin that glowed in the sunshine, and deep brown eyes that despite everything were so warm, and kind. George told himself not to think about how well fitted Lewis’ suit was to his frame. “I just… this has all been sprung on me quite suddenly.”

“Ah,” Lewis nodded, a knowing look on his face. Silence fell over the table and a soft breeze briefly brushed over George’s skin. It seemed to help reset his brain as he let out a small sigh.

“I know it was my mother’s suggestion, but if you would like to see the gardens I’d be happy to give you a tour. We can come back to this afterwards.”

Lewis smiled, and it briefly turned into a grin. “I’d like that.”

George called for Matt, who he knew would be waiting just inside to cater to any of Lewis’ and George’s whims, and he asked for the tea stands to be covered while George and Lewis walked round the palace gardens. Matt gave a small nod of his head, and said of course, adding that the rose garden had looked particularly lovely this morning.

Lewis gestured for George to lead the way, and George waited so he and Lewis could walk side by side down the long path towards the rose garden.

“Now we can have some actual privacy.” Already George’s shoulders felt ten times lighter as he ran a hand through his hair to loosen some of the gel. It was such a small thing, but already he felt so much more like himself. “We can compare notes on our parents scheming if you’d like?”

Lewis’ snort quickly turned into a bright laugh, his eyes even crinkled at the corners.

“What’s your favourite film?” Lewis asked instead. And truth be told it did feel better doing the getting to know you questions like this, completely away from prying eyes. They exchanged films, songs, and their shared belief at just how absurd their lives really were by the time they’d reached the wrought iron gate that led to the rose garden.

George pulled the gate open and gestured for Lewis to go first. He stopped a few paces in to look around, and let out a small wonderous sigh. If George had been asked what his favourite part of the palace grounds was, he gave the gardens as a generic answer. But very few people knew that the rose garden was actually his favourite. He frequently took breakfast here in the Summer, and sometimes just liked to sit and read a book while time passed around him.

“The rose garden was my Grandfather’s first wedding anniversary present to my Grandmother,” George explained as he and Lewis began their slow walk round. It was set out in an oval with a small stone fountain in the middle that you could just about sit of the edge of without falling in. “My Grandma loved roses, so my Grandfather had this built for her.”

“What? Just like that?” Lewis said with a snap of his fingers. George immediately noticed the delicate tattoos inked onto his skin before humming in reply. “Wow,” Lewis’ eyes briefly widened. “He must have really loved her.”

“Yeah… yes they loved each other very much.” George said quietly, his eyes trained on the ultra-fine gravel that crunched beneath the soles of his black leather shoes. When he finally looked up upon realising that Lewis hadn’t said anything, George saw him paused in front of a bush of bright yellow roses in full bloom. Lewis delicately ran his index finger along the edge of one of the petals before leaning down to inhale its scent. “I wish I could tell you all the different varieties we have, but botany was never my strong suit.” Like many of the previous royals, George had studied politics at university before his quick stint in the air force.

“What do you like to do in your spare time?” Lewis asked, looked back up at George with his head slightly tilted to the side. “What do you do when you’re just George?”

George coughed out a small laugh. “As tragic as it sounds, I don’t get to be ‘just George’ very often.”

“But when you do…” Lewis asked again, clearly not wanting to let the point go. George let out a long sigh and let his shoulders sink down a couple of centimetres. He hated talking about his interests to other people in case he sounded dreadfully boring.

“I like photography, I’m not very good at it but I enjoy it. On a quiet day our head chef lets me into the kitchen and he teaches me a new recipe. It’s a wonder I haven’t chopped all my fingers off by now, but Riki’s very patient.” George’s cheeks flushed red as he glanced down at the ground and let out a nervous laugh. Lewis just stayed smiling at him. “What about you? What do you do when you’re… just Lewis?”

Lewis talked at great length about music, but also fashion. How he’d helped designed the suit he was currently wearing amongst others. That he loved it as a creative outlet while also giving himself some control over his identity, and that he only dressed for himself and not the approval of others. It sounded so freeing. In the past George had often heard whispers at galas over people gushing over what the son of the Duke of Northamptonshire was wearing, sometimes George had managed to catch a glimpse of him, and other’s he was left feeling disappointed when he didn’t.

They found themselves halfway round the rose garden before either of them had really noticed.

“You do have a say in this you know.” Lewis said with a raised eyebrow, turning the conversation back to the whole marriage fiasco. George wasn’t so sure. The only thing he knew was that he really didn’t want to go through this again, and meet whoever else his parents had lined up for him. Would they be as understanding as Lews was? As thoughtful? George assumed not.

And maybe it all felt very easy, choosing Lewis after being with him for barely an hour. Like he was once again doing exactly once his parents were telling him to do. But there was something in the immediate comfort George felt from being around Lewis that he didn’t want to let go of. It was a kind of safety he’d only ever felt with Alex or Marcus.

“A part of me hoped when I was thinking about all of this last night,” When he had been tossing and turning in bed, more accurately. “That… so long as I’m getting married as my parents want, I will as you say, have some input in how it all happens.” George knew he wouldn’t get left alone completely. His first public appearance with his new partner would probably be at Wimbledon. The Trooping of the Colour was both too soon and far too formal for George to suddenly show up out of the blue with a boyfriend. Not a soul would care about the parade at that point. And the engagement would be planned to within an inch of its life.

But George was starting to hope that if he did pick Lewis, then maybe he would at the very least get a friend out of it all. And most importantly he seemed to be fully aware of what he was doing.

“You’re really sure about all of this?” George asked Lewis firmly, looking right into his eyes to get a read on his frame of mind.

“Of all the options I have… this is the best one. Believe me.”

George admired his determination. If Lewis was going to become a Prince he was going to need it. Lewis seemed to have it in spades, as he was the only to hold his hand out for George to shake, like he was offering a deal.

“Will you marry me?” He said not completely sarcastically.

George let himself throw his head back and laugh so much his shoulders shook. The rose garden had played host to both Benjy’s and Cara’s engagement announcements, chances were it would be the venue for George’s too. He could see it all now flashing before him in his mind. Their first formal appearance together, the engagement announcement next Autumn, how probably in two years’ time to the day George would be waiting for Lewis at the end of the aisle in Westminster Abbey with his new title on his shoulders and Lewis walking towards him, and all the state visits that would follow for the rest of their lives. And, as Lewis had said, all the good they could do together.

George pressed his lips together and nodded, before clasping Lewis’ hand with his.

“I will.”

[fuckyeahhiccannamonth]

HIIIII HICCANNA NATION, long time no post!!!

Sooooo long story short, a bitch overcommitted HARD last year, and had like 17 Hiccanna month posts that I completely ran out of steam to finish. And then because I felt so guilty I didn't finish THOSE, I also didn't reblog all the incredibly awesome posts the rest of y'all made, and I'm really sorry for not giving my people the love and appreciation they deserve!!! And then, of course, my life from like October through like March became an absolute shitstorm, and I got semi-threatened with eviction and then friend-dumped by one of the most important people in my life D: It was a whole Ordeal™️, and sadly, my brain was too fried to think about my favorite awkward blorbos 💔

BUT BY GOD, THE TIME HAS COME FOR ME TO GET MY LIFE TOGETHER AND PULL THROUGH FOR ALL YOU WONDERFUL PEOPLE WHO HAVE MADE THIS FUNKY LITTLE EVENT COME TO LIFE!!! I WILL finish reblogging all of last year's Hiccanna Month posts before the end of this month if it kills me!!! And by god, I WILL have this event again, because it's what y'all deserve!!! I don't have the spoons to post much of my own stuff this year (except maybe some leftovers from last year lol), but I'm going to be more on top of my shit about hyping anyone and everyone who decides to participate :3 I'm so grateful for each and every one of you, and I can't tell you how happy it's made me that you all have made this event for my little rarepair OTP bigger and better than I ever imagined 💚🧡💚🧡

I am, however, following suit for some of the other RotBTFD ship months and cutting down from one prompt a day to two per week for 8 prompts total, with an overarching theme for each week. I honestly don't have the spoons to do a prompt every day this year, although for future Hiccanna months, that could change. The two-a-week format seems to work better for a lot of people anyways, since I've gotten feedback that 31 prompts in a row is, er…pretty overwhelming, to say the least ^^; So two prompts a week for this year, and we will see if people like this format better!

@gryffindorkxdraws a tag for you, as promised 🩵

AND NOW, the prompt list!!! Apologies for only giving you guys a couple weeks of prep time—I know it's usually more ^^; But y'all know I'm flexible about late submissions, and it's totally fine if you submit for Hiccanna month after July! And who knows??? If I'm feeling spicy, I might tack on a bonus week for the first week of August 👀👀👀

WEEK 1—MUSIC Special thanks to @lovestrucklyuniverse for suggesting a focus on music from Hiccup and Anna's movies—I'm enamored with that!!! Of course, these prompts are just suggestions, and if you'd rather make something inspired by a pop song, alternative rock jam, or Eurovision ballad that reminds you of Hiccanna, then have at it!

1. For the Dancing and the Dreaming—A re-imagining of our favorite Viking wedding song with Hiccup and Anna! They're certainly the sort of people who would do all manner of impressive feats and grand gestures to win each other over, but the joke is on them—they don't need to! Sometimes, pledging love and devotion is enough, and there's no need to slay monsters or gift troves upon troves of treasure to prove yourself worthy of someone.

2. More Than Just the Spare—One of my absolute favorite things about these two is how they rise above being overlooked and underappreciated and accomplish some truly spectacular things. This prompt is all about Hiccup and Anna showing that they can be more than anyone ever expected them to be—preferably together, while being madly in love!

WEEK 2—MOVIES AND TV Let's be real—we've all dreamed of seeing Hiccup and Anna interact (and adorably butcher flirting several times) on the big screen. Whether it's through an epic Disney-Dreamworks crossover (god, we all wish, right?!) or imagining Best Awkward Blorbos in your favorite TV show, this week is all about Hiccanna slaying in visual media!

1. Romcoms—Have you ever watched a romcom and gone "You know what would make this better? If it was about Hiccanna!"? Furthermore, have you ever watched a romcom and gone "Well shit, this is literally just about Hiccanna!"? Well, now's your time! Make something inspired by your favorite Hiccanna-coded romcom, or a romcom you desperately believe needs more Hiccanna energy in it! Or, hell, make up a brand-new cheesy romcom plot for these two and make us all swoon 💞

2. Dramas—We forget it sometimes, but not everything in these two dorks' lives is sunshine and rainbows. Hiccup lost a whole-ass leg! Anna almost froze to death! They both grew up lonely, friendless, and (relatively) isolated from their communities! For this prompt, take your favorite drama and Hiccanna-ify it—or aplify the Hiccanna you already see! It can be any subgenre you want—coming-of-age drama, period drama, weird avant-garde indie drama, you name it! Subject those guys to some Dramatics™️ and let us see :3

WEEK 3—LITERATURE AND TEXT PROMPTS This week is all about something so many of us long to have an excuse to do--write about the blorbos! Whether you're looking to try your hand at fic for the first time or you're coming back to add more much-needed Hiccanna into our ever-sparse internet ecosystem, these text prompts will hopefully get your fanfiction juices flowing. Pick your favorite(s) of the four for each day, and write away! If you want to try and do all of them then have at it, but don't stress yourself out!!! I wanna make sure this year's event is as chill and no-pressure as possible, since I know a lot of options can be overwhelming, especially for Anna and I's fellow ADHDers! And if you don't want to commit to writing anything, or writing just isn't your strong suit, that's okay too! Use this week to make something based on any literature that brings Hiccanna to mind, or any literary world you'd love to see our favorite awkward ship in. Happy creating! Also HUGE shout-out to @lilandraws for helping me narrow this down from 40 fucking prompts, because when I tried to just casually make a list of text prompts I liked, I got, um...a bit carried away ^^; Also for giving some absolutely hilarious commentary that singlehandedly got me through the workday, bless 💚💚💚 And thank you to @creativepromptsforwriting for the prompts themselves!

1. Pick your favorite(s)!!! a) “Two bros, chilling in a small bed…” b) “Someone just handed you a cat?” c) “Sorry I tried to kill you.” “It’s fine, but next time you should try harder.” d) “Takes one to know one.”

2. Pick your favorite(s)!!! a) He had prepared himself for all the different ways she could reject him. But what he hadn’t prepared for was for her to actually say yes. b) “Want to hear some random facts about geese?” c) “What are we?” “Human. At least I hope we still are.” d) “I can’t stop thinking about kissing you.” “And what are you going to do about that?”

WEEK 4—COMIC BOOKS And now, for the ultimate kick-ass combination of visuals and literature—the visual novel and comic book!!! Since Hiccup and Anna are, fundamentally, animated cartoons (as much as they are much more to all of us!), it seemed fitting to wrap up with this one :3 This week is all about comics, and what epic shenanigans and hijinks can come of Hiccanna-ifying them!

1. Sci-Fi/Fantasy AU—One of the things comic books and visual novels do best is exploring fantastical scenarios and limitless possibilities. The iconic superhero AU is probably the most well-known, but your options don't end there! Do you have a favorite comic about guys on spaceships exploring the galaxy and battling aliens? Or a comic about a party of DnD-style adventurers taking down an evil wizard? Throw some Hiccanna in it and let us see! The sky's the limit, and really, you don't even have to stop there! (Note: Using AUs for ANY of these prompts is real and valid and encouraged, so don't feel like this is the only place where you can use wacky AUs! This is just the one where they have a special focus/emphasis. But AU away whenever you like—Hiccup and Anna kinda require an AU to even be able to interact, so it sort of comes with the territory!)

2. Favorite Comic Book Adaptation AU—Many of us have been lucky enough to see a comic we like be adapted into something else, and can say with confidence that the adaptation kicks absolute ass,, whether it be a movie, TV show, novelization, video game, or whatever else! Like with the previous prompt, superhero comics might be the first thing to come to mind. Of course, I'd be delighted to see Hiccanna in the world of the Spiderverse, Invincible, or your favorite DC or Marvel movie, but keep in mind these aren't your only choices! Something like Scott Pilgrim vs. the World or Netflix's The Sandman would be a totally valid option as well! Have fun and go crazy :3

Aaaaaaand that's all for now! Tag those posts with hiccannamonth2024 or hiccannamonth24 so I can see them and reblog, and happy Hiccanna month-ing! Can't wait to see what everyone comes up with and shower all my love on it 💗💖❤️‍🔥 See you next month!!! We will go through all of July…and beyond >:3

As far as content goes, literally anything is welcome--edits, art, drabbles/fanfic, videos, interpretive dance you record yourself doing that has Hiccanna motifs, it is all fair game as long as it’s Hiccanna-related!

Your ever-determined Hiccanna month hoster person, Fuckyeahhiccannamonth 💚

[willows-adventures-in-words]

Writing this one broke me. I had to stop and get a hug from my husband before I could finish it. So, because I made myself suffer, I'm dragging everyone else down with me.

Whumptober prompts 20: Emotional Angst shoulder to cry on | giving permission to die | “it's not your fault” word count: 1,101 Some background info: This was a slightly altered discarded idea that would have been part of another story I was writing from a different fandom in an attempt to add more characters. That other story was a 7 Days to Die AU. 7 Days to Die is a zombie game. When you get infected in the game you can cure a certain percentage by using items. Honey (5%), Herbel Antibiotics (20%), and Antibiotics (25%). Obviously when the infection gets to 100% you die.

~-~-~

He ran up the road as fast as his tired legs would take him. Almost there. Almost back to the house. As Geoff reached for the door, there was a sound behind him. The groaning and shuffling that was way too familiar. “Not now...” Turning, he gripped the bat tighter. There was only one. Good. Stepping down off the porch, Geoff approached the zombie. When he got about a dozen feet away he held the bat with both hands and, with another step forward, swung as hard as he could knocking it to the ground. He grimaced in pain from the wound on his arm, before he grabbed the knife he carried and stabbed it in the head. Quickly, he got up and hurried back to the door. He could retrieve the knife later...

“Layne!?” he called out. Glancing in the kitchen as he passed by, he saw a half prepared meal. Geoff hurried to the bedroom and practically threw open the door. “Layne.”

Layne shifted his arm off from over his eyes and looked over. “Hey... You're back.” Geoff let out a sigh of relief and headed over to the bedside. “I tried to cook you something but-”

“I told you to rest.” Layne just smiled weakly as he rested his arm back over his eyes.

Geoff pulled his backpack off and, setting it down on the chair, pulled it open. “What did you bring me?” There was a pause. “Tell me it's not honey.”

“... It'll help.” Layne shook his head. “Layne.”

“No...”

He crouched down next to the bed. “It'll buy us some more time.”

“No,” Layne spoke, his tone sharper than what Geoff was used to hearing as of late.

“Layne, please.” Pulling his arm off of his eyes, Layne turned his head to look at his friend. “It's all I could get. I couldn't... I tried. I tried to get antibiotics. But... But someone else...” He couldn't keep the desperation and despair out of his voice.

Layne reached out and rested his hand on top of Geoff's. “It's not your fault.”

“I couldn't-” But Layne shook his head.

“The infection. I was reckless. And I know you tried your best. To help me. But I can't do this anymore, Geoff. I'm tired.”

“Please take the honey.”

“Keep it. In case you need it later.”

Geoff shook his head. “I can't lose you. I,” his voice cracked. “I can't do this alone. Let me keep trying.”

He almost gave in. But Layne knew he didn't have long. He was exhausted constantly and didn't even have the energy to walk around the house. His attempt to cook earlier made him sick. Honestly, he didn't know if he could even stomach eating the honey if he wanted to. But if he could... “It will probably only get me through the night...”

“Then- Then take it. And we'll leave. We'll find help.”

With a slow sigh, Layne told him, “You know I can't travel anymore.”

Stubbornly, Geoff told him, “Then I'll duct tape some rope to this mattress and drag you.” Layne let out a light laugh but otherwise remained quiet. “We can still get rid of the infection.”

Closing his eyes, he let out a breath. “Geoff, please. Let me go. It's been two weeks.” Layne hated telling him this. They've both lost too much already. Everyone they knew and loved was gone. They were all each other had. And now he was telling him to let him die and lose the last person close to him.

“... You can't ask me to do that.”

“I'm sorry...” His next breath came shallow. Layne realized just then, that his heart-rate had started to slow. There wasn't much time left. Though he wasn't scared, he had already resigned himself to this fate a couple days ago. No. He felt guilt. If he'd been more careful, not been reckless, then he wouldn't be putting his friend through this. “Can you, just stay with me. Until it's over?”

Geoff closed his eyes as he fought back the pain and tears. Then swallowed. “Okay,” he nearly whispered.

“Thank you.”

Silence fell heavily over the room. Geoff watch over his friend. His attention on his face for a bit, but then noticed how shallow his breathing was. How slowly his chest would rise and fall. He almost didn't make it back in time. Layne would have died here alone. Geoff would never have forgiven himself. Just like all the other things that have happened. He would have just added it to the pile. Though this one would have been the worst. Right next to losing Kathy.

He let out a shuddered breath. And it startled him when he felt Layne's hand grip lightly over his. Geoff glanced quickly from his hand to Layne's face. His friend slowly blinked his eyes open for a moment and attempted a smile before his eyes fell closed again. Then, not even a minute later, his breathing stopped and he was still.

Geoff didn't move at first. And when he did he looked down to the floor. His eyes stung with tears. This was it. He couldn't even help Layne. The one thing he should have been able to do. And he couldn't. As he blinked tears fell. Geoff let out another shuddered breath. He should go. But he didn't get up. Couldn't bring himself to do so. He just... He just wanted a little more time. Just a little more time.

He should have known it was a mistake. But grief made him forgot in that moment. And when the zombie with Layne's face opened its eyes and lurched up did he realize his mistake. Geoff jerked back, lifting his arms in defense as the zombie that looked like his friend launched itself at him. Its teeth catching his already injured arm tearing it open anew as he fell onto his back bumping the chair with his shoulder. Geoff struggled against him as he stared at Layne's face. He managed to bring a leg up for leverage and shove him, it, away. It fell back onto the bed and Geoff scrambled to his feet. Grabbing his backpack, he rushed for the door. Seconds after he left, shutting the door and leaned against it, he felt the bang from the other side. Geoff pushed away from the door and, cradling his injured arm, ran from the house.

[jadekitty777]

The Emotionalist: Chapter 2

Will I write anything else but this this week? Maybe. Probably not.

Prompt for Day 3: Sunset

Rating: T

Word Count: 1K

Summary: Clover Ebi was a huntsman who, like most Atlesian soldiers, hid most of his emotions behind a mask of calm professionalism. That is, unless, one knew where to look. And Qrow looked a lot.

Or, 5 times Qrow learned to read Clover’s mood not from his face, but from his ears. [An adjacent story to Hunting Season Hunting Season; events from Qrow’s POV]

Ao3 Link: Dragging Like the Tide

~

Clover’s office had a very nice couch in it. 

The soldier had admitted he didn’t know where it had come from, just that it had shown up when he had asked for the arrangement years ago. But of course Atlesians wouldn’t just send him any old thing. It was one of those luxury pieces that was probably made by some famous artisan using the finest wood, material and stuffing available, with a plush, deep, forest green exterior and oak accenting along the arm trim and legs. 

Not that Qrow had room to complain as he was currently the one lounging along it like a lazy cat, scroll held aloft as he virtually duked it out with Ruby in Ninja Wars V. Between matches, he would glance back at Clover, somehow finding him buried in more paperwork than when he’d looked last. Not that he needed the visual to know he was still working. With the game music muted, the clack-clack-clack of keyboard keys was the only soundtrack he had.

When he’d first dropped in, Clover had agreed to go for some evening tea with him in the mess hall. Something soothing to wind down with. Maybe they’d even watch the stars from the windows, like they had been from the rooftops for the past few days.

“Just give me five minutes to finish these reports.” Clover had promised.

That had been a half hour ago.

Qrow tapped insistently on his controller for another combo and struck the final blow. The victory screen flashed with ‘Soaring Ninja Wins!’ for the twelve time that night.

He swiped out of the game and pinged his niece, Ready to call it quits?

Just because I am sleepy does not mean I am defeated old man!

But yeah, Weiss is complaining about the noise.

See you tomorrow!

Night kiddo.

His arms dropped, resting his scroll along his stomach as he tipped his head back.

Immediately, he noticed that Clover’s demeanor had changed. Not in his expression - that was still set in deep concentration - but in his ears. They were slanted downwards, tips pointing towards his shoulders.

The last time he’d seen something like that had been shortly after their encounter with Robyn, wherein Clover and Blake started debating the state of Faunus socionomics. In the end, Clover had backed down, ears falling in resigned defeat.

Much like they were now.

Not that Qrow was… keeping a catalog or anything.

“You okay Clubs?” He called.

Clover glanced away from his computer, the unnatural glow of the screen making his skin appear ghastly pale. “Huh? Oh yeah.” He ran a hand down his face, eyes rolling back towards the screen. “Sorry, these reports are taking a lot longer than I thought.”

“Is there something troubling in them?”

“No more than usual, why?”

Why indeed. Qrow knew ‘because you seem upset’ could be taken wrong in too many ways; especially, if that then led to him admitting he was trying to read Clover by the positioning of his ears. 

Qrow was proud to say he wasn’t that stupid.

“No reason. Just figured that was what the hold up was.” He said instead.

There was a distant hum, then Clover shook his head. “No I think I’m just-” He trailed off, raising a hand to his mouth as he yawned widely. As he did, his ears stretched backwards before falling back down where they’d been.

If being cute was illegal, Qrow was pretty sure the other man would have been convicted for unintentional murder twice over by now.

“Mm, well I was gonna say tired, but I guess that’s obvious now.” Clover joked, shooting him a sleepy smile.

Thrice over, his seizing heart corrected.

He rose from the dead just enough to manage, “Maybe it’s time to call it a night?”

“No, no. I’m almost done. I just need-”

“Five more minutes?” Qrow guessed flatly. 

Clover flushed, averting his gaze to the pens lined along his desk. “…Sorry. I didn’t mean to take so long. You can turn in for the night if you want.”

Well now, that just wouldn’t do.

Abandoning all hope on their original plans, he gave a loud, dramatic sigh, before hopping to his feet. “Chamomile or ginger?”

“Huh?”

“Your tea.” He explained patiently, arching a brow. “Which one do you want me to bring back?”

Slowly, realization dawned.

Then Clover gifted him with the sweetest smile, as he replied, “Ginger, please.”

“You got it. I’ll be back before you can miss me.” He accented the words with a wink, purposely sashaying his hips as he headed out of the office.

The second the door swung shut behind him, Qrow lent heavily against it, hand on his chest as he tried to calm his sudden cardiac arrest.

War crimes. He decided on finally. Clover’s cuteness was guilty of actual war crimes on his heart.

Unbeknownst to the metaphorically dying huntsman, on the other side of the door, seen only by his own reflection in the monitor, Clover had buried his blushing face in his hands, squealing quietly to himself.

[ickmick]

Inktober days 11-15!!

I PROMISE I DIDNT FORGET TO POST THIS, I HAD IT WRITTEN AND EVERYTHING BUT YET TUMBLR DIDNT POST IT??? So erm.... I scheduled it for 'today' at like... 2 pm i think? my time, that is... LOL (turned out the queue didnt work! so its 6pm!)

so anyways, I'll upload yet again on sunday (tomorrow!) since I also need to post on Halloween!! oh boy!! so theres my uploads for the rest of the month, if you want to check back :D

I've actually gotten further than I thought I would! very proud of myself! and you should be too, even if you've only done a few days!

heres week one and week twos posts!

this one actually has the doc drawing >:3c

plus some other fun ones! its all under the cut, enjoy!

heres the key as always, referring to my prompt lists!!

wh = welcome home

hc = hermitcraft (I have 2!)

ink = official inktober

gore = goretober

(actual gore will be triggerwarned! so far none has any blood or violence!)

Day 11

wh: butterfly

hc: mischief

ink: wander

life: lava

oh noooo... our local pesky bird!! he fellll... (attempted a new perspective!! a lil wonky but I tried lol)

and can I just say I LOVE how peaceful grian is in the last drawing? hes so pretty and soft looking!! i surprised myself!!

Day 12

life: soulmate

I got that major life series brainrot... if you cant tell, haha... and dont even get me started on secret life!! more on that in the final notes >:D

also I didnt finish bigb im sorry BFMSVSSB

Day 13

hc: fashion

life: safety

GRIAN IN CUTE CLOTHES !! feat mumbo in the corner to make up for the last few times of neglect rip

also, was low on spoons and unfortunately did not finish the potentially adorable moment between the buttercups in grians wings... smth... xD

Day 14

hc: hermit with a background

gore: parasite

ay more like parasyte, am I right? *ba dum tiss*... ... yeah ok sorry LOL that was def more of a meme drawing ngl

AND THE FABLED DOC DRAWING!!! I posted it on its own already because im unbelievably proud of it!! listen... i know it meant to draw a bg... like a forest or smth... BUT!! i thought it was kinda funny... and I swear i was going to actually di the prompt right! but I ran out of spoons XD

Day 15

ink: dagger

life: spyglass

gore: fungi

another low spoon day, alas! but hey, at least we have some AHAA shenanigans (simply grian giggling) and a not so scar safe object!! (a dagger!! who gave him that?? /silly)

whew, there we go!! i think this weeks set was pretty good! (not that I actually drew any THIS WEEK, but thats not the point XD)

also, thank you for all the love so far!! you guys are very sweet :D

Im especially blown away from this post of tango, because it was rushed!! but im appreciative still because the post is sort of funny!! <3

*vauge talk of first secret life episodes!!*

PLUGS OVER LISTEN.... SECRET LIFE? THE SYMBOL? JIMMY POINTING IT OUT? AHHHHH!?!? /VPOS

its so good already omg... ive watched quite a few of the povs lol... i wont say anything specfic because I havent properly spoiler warned! so I will leave you simply with the wise words 'the fanfic writes itself' /silly (and oh my god scar giving grian the dang blocks ACK /pos /pos /pos)

heres week fours, 5.1s and the last post (5.2)!!

okay!! have a good week!! and remember to be easier on yourself!! I hope to see you next sunday for the next week of drawings!! 💜

[starlostastronaut]

DAY 03 | A STATE OF MIND

PAIRING: bang chan x reader

GENRE: angst, hurt/comfort, eventual fluff

WC: 1.76k

CW: (not only) appearance insecuritues (chan), mentions of hate comments, implied panic attack/mental breakdown (chan), there's crying, and lot of kisses, y/n used like once, chan gets called baby

PROMPT: you're beatiful - the rose

well, the angst is here. trust me to take a cute song and turn it into this lol. i promise it gets better as we go, and i don't really go into much detail, but still mind the cw. i still hope you enjoy <3

title from you're beatiful - the rose

general masterlist here

<< previous | mctc masterlist | next >>

You knocked on the door to the 3RACHA + Hyunjin dorm. Tapping your foot against the ground, you waited for one of the boys to let you in. “Come on, guys, come on,” you murmured, growing more and more impatient with every second that passed. This truly was the worst time to forget your keys at home. But you were in such a hurry to get here that the thought of bringing anything but the absolute essentials, such as your phone or the keys to your own apartment, hadn't crossed your mind until you were halfway to the dorm.

When Changbin called you twenty minutes ago, begging you to come over, you weren’t thinking straight. As soon as Chan's name was mentioned, you grabbed your stuff and ran out the door. Poor Changbin didn't even get to finish what was so urgent, but that didn't matter. You will find out when you go there. What mattered was the fact that something was going on with Chan, and you were too far away from him. So there you were, in the hallway of the Stray Kids’ apartment complex, standing in front of the door like an idiot. Just as you were starting to entertain the thought of busting the door down, the doorknob moved and revealed Minho in a similarly distressed state as you. His hair was messy, his hoodie rumpled, and there were a few faint damp patches around his chest and shoulders.

“Thank god you're here.” Minho let out a sigh of relief, ushering you to come inside and towards Chan's room, not even pointing out the fact that you didn't take off your shoes. Oh, so this was really serious then. Minho was very particular about these sorts of things, so the fact that he now completely ignored one of his precious house rules spoke volumes on its own. Walking through the apartment, you noticed the rest of the members sitting or standing around, looking similarly uneasy. Hyunjin and Jisung paused their murmured conversation with Changbin to give you a small wave as a greeting, which you returned. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Seungmin comforting a crying Jeongin, but before you could inspect the scene further, you were dragged away by Minho. “Yongbok is with him right now, but he keeps asking for you,” the dancer said, placing a hand on your shoulder blade and gently nudging you towards the closed door.

“Um… Do you mind telling me what exactly happened? I kind of rushed here before Changbin got the chance to explain.” You ran your hand through your hair, suddenly feeling a bit awkward.

Minho didn't make a big deal out of it. “It's been a hard few weeks for him. And you know how he is, he never tells us anything and keeps it bottled up. I don't know what set it off, but with the deadlines closing in three days and the haters getting more active lately, I guess it got too much. He broke down about an hour ago, and we don't know what to do,” he explained with the same sad and worried tone he greeted you with. You nodded, and Minho carefully opened the door.

Felix raised his head to the noise, and his eyes sparked up when he saw you. Though it wasn't the usual spark in his eyes, this time it was much more bittersweet. I'm glad you're here, and I'm sorry I can't help more. “Chris, Y/N is here,” Felix whispered in English, gently running his fingers through Chan's hair to make him acknowledge the information.

Watching the whole scene unfold in front of you, you could feel your heart breaking into a million pieces. The two boys were sitting on the bed, Chan cuddled up to Felix. At least he wasn't crying anymore, so that was already a step in a better direction. He still had his face buried in the younger one's chest, though. One of Felix's arms was steadily wrapped around Chan, while the other was now massaging his scalp. Chan looked so small and vulnerable, curled up into a ball like that. You had to fight every urge to run over there, pry him out of Felix's arms, and never let go again. But you knew you had to approach carefully.

Kneeling down next to the bed, you gently ran your hand around Chan's back, letting him know you're here. "Baby," you whispered. “Baby, it's me. Can you look at me, please?’ you said, getting up on the bed as well. Felix gave you a weak smile, and slowly, with so much care, he disentangled himself from Chan, who immediately latched onto you, grabbing you with a force you didn't think he was capable of right now. You didn't even notice Felix and Minho leaving the room; all your attention was focused on your boyfriend the moment you saw him.

“Want to tell me what happened?” you gently asked, hugging Chan tighter when he shook his head, mumbling something about wanting to just hold you for a while. You nodded with a sad smile. “Of course.” He'll tell you later, if he wants to. For now, you would just hold him, knowing that just your presence helped him. He said many times in the past that just being close to you always made him feel better. But now that saying has reached a completely new, heartbreaking level. You watched Chan get comfortable with a stinging pain in your chest. It hurt to see him like this, clinging to you like he's drowning and you're the only thing keeping him above the water.

For a while, you just stayed, intertwined with one another. For the whole time, your fingers gently brushed through Chan's soft curls because you knew it always helped to ground him. As the minutes passed, you felt how Chan's breathing slowly steadied, and he was coming out of his current state. 

Feeling him move, you smiled and helped him into a more sitting position, but you still kept your firm hold on him. Reaching over for the bottles of water Minho brought in some time ago, you handed one to Chan. “Feeling better, baby?”  

He took the bottle and opened it, bringing it to his lips. He set it back down and nodded in response to your question. “I'm sorry… Don't know what…” he mumbled. “The deadlines and comments... It was too much.” 

“Shh, it's okay.” You began stroking his hair again. “They're wrong. Whatever they said to you, they're wrong.”

Chan looked at you. His eyes, always so sparkly and happy, were now heavy with sadness. “They said that I'm not a good leader. That I don't deserve to be an idol because I'm ugly with no talent,” he whispered.

You felt a burst of anger inside you. “Channie,” you said, more insistent this time. One of your hands came to rest on his jaw, your thumb gently caressing his cheek, while the other interlocked your fingers with his, holding his hand tightly. “They're wrong. You're a great leader. No one loves the boys more than you, and we both know you'll do anything for them. You take care of them, of me, of other artists in your company. You protect them when it's needed, and you help them grow and achieve their own success outside of the group. Are those the qualities of a bad leader?” 

Chan shook his head slightly. 

“Exactly. You are the best leader they could ever ask for.” You smiled at him, hoping to convey how much you loved and appreciated him with that one smile. And it might have worked. His face lit up a tiny bit. Blink and you would have missed it, but at this point in your relationship, you were so accustomed to Chan that you sometimes felt like you could read his mind.

“And I don't know who said that other thing, but they need their eyes checked,” you continued. “You are beautiful, Chan, inside and out. From your adorable curly hair..." You reached to kiss the top of his head. “Over your eyes, your nose, your entire face, to your lips.” After every feature, you placed a kiss on that spot, and your heart swelled with happiness when you heard soft giggles coming out of Chan at the fact that he was being showered with kisses all over his face. “And even if the haters don't think that, who cares? Their opinion doesn’t matter. Beauty is much more than looks. It's the personality as well. You have thousands of fans ready to tell you the same because it's true, but you need to believe it yourself. Please try, for me?”

You leaned in to press a final kiss on Chan's lips. When you pulled away, you noticed tears beginning to form in the corners of his eyes. “Oh god no,” you murmured. This was the last thing you wanted to happen. Just as you thought he was getting better, you made him cry again.

“Happy tears. It's happy tears,” Chan quickly said, noticing you getting into your head. “It's okay, you didn't do anything,” he assured you, a small smile creeping up on his face.

“I should be the one telling you that,” you chuckled, cupping his face in your hands and wiping the tears away. 

“Can't have you steal all the spotlight, can I?"

That did get a full laugh out of you. A joke. That meant Chan was coming back. “I'm glad you're feeling better,” you said, your voice sweet and sincere.

“Thank you. For being here and... and helping. I promise I'll try for you,” Chan said, and you lit up at his words. It was going to be a long and difficult road, for sure, but this was already a huge step in the right direction. Then he yawned and snuggled up closer to you. You stroked his back a few times. It was understandable. He was exhausted, both physically and emotionally. “I'll go tell the boys you're okay, and then I'll come back so we can sleep, okay?”

You got a murmured okay in response. Smiling, you gently laid Chan down on the bed and gave him a last kiss into his hair before walking towards the door. When you looked over your shoulder before exiting the room, he was curled to himself just like before, but this time his breathing was slow and steady, his face calm, as his body was finally ready to let go and relax.

taglist: @stayconnecteed @saintriots @vivioluh @ivaneedssleep

©starlostastronaut 2023 | do not repost/translate my work without permission

[jellyfishright]

At A Distance, Spring Is Green -BL Version (Yeo Jun x Nam Soo Hyun)-Chapter 11 : He Grew On You

"Why did you do that?" So-Bin asked Yeo Jun with tears in her eyes as she applied ointment to his bloodied face.

"Because I hated it." Jun replied with a distant look in his eyes. "I hate that they were using you, as my friend to get to me."

So-Bin didn't know what to say.

She admitted.She was both scared and startled when Chun-Guk and Gung-Ho grabbed her at the festival, carting her off to their both talking going on and on about Yeo Jun. In the past few weeks, she had gotten closer to Yeo Jun but she couldn't say she knew him better than anyone else. There was something about him. He kept a kind of distance, even from the people he was close to.

"I'm sorry." he apologized to So-Bin again.

She shook her head. "It's fine. It wasn't your fault. They were just being ridiculous."

Jun didn't add anything else.

He felt a deep-seated annoyance as he thought about the situation.While he tried to be nice to everyone and that often came with a price, he did not appreciate being baited or forced to do things against his will.

"You should get some rest." So-Bin advised when she was finished tending to his wounds. "I'll check on you later."

Yeo Jun nodded and smiled at her. "Thanks."

Yeo Jun wasn't sure exactly when he'd fallen asleep but when he woke up, he was alone, So-Bin had left.

He retrieved his phone sitting on the table.

Nam Soo Hyun. 3 missed calls.

"Soo Hyun. Is something up?" he asked after redialling

[Are you alright?] Soo Hyun sounded worried

"Did you call me out of worry? Three times to be exact?" Yeo Jun countered 

Soo Hyun sighed in relief [I'm glad you're okay.]

Next the line went dead.

Yeo Jun looked at his phone.

"What was that?" he spoke to himself  "He actually worried about me"  That thought brought a smile to his face.

The next day

Yeo Jun picked up the black book that with the letters NSH written in bold letters on the cover.

"I forgot to give this back to him."

Picking up his phone he dialled.

The phone rang once.

[Yes?] Soo Hyun's voice came on the line

"What? You answered on the first try." Jun was surprised. "I thought I had to leave three missed calls too."

Jun could hear Soo Hyun's sigh on the line. [I'm hanging up.]

"But I'm sick." Jun pouted.

[You sound perfectly healthy] Soo Hyun replied. [If you have nothing else to say--]

"I do" Jun was quick to say "You're never a patient one are you?"

[What's this about?]

"Are you free tomorrow?" Jun asked "I have something for you."

[I'm busy] Soo Hyun replied. In the next second, the line went dead.

Yeo Jun looked at his phone, a little smile budding on his lip. "I was hoping to hang up first." He thought of the expression Soo Hyun must be wearing at that very moment. Looking at the book he spoke to himself "Maybe I shouldn't give it back."  He turned the black book over a few times. "Couldn't he have bought it in a brighter colour?" But he knew the answer to that. This book suited Soo Hyun's personality very well, any other colour and it would not have been a good fit.

After hanging up with Jun, Soo Hyun was walking across the quad when Young-Ran caught up to him.

"I heard you hit someone." was her opening line "Was it because of Yeo Jun?" Soo Hyun didn't respond. "Seriously? I called you so that you could stop the fight, not throw a punch yourself."

"It just happened that way." Soo Hyun replied.

"I've never seen you get involved in other people's business." Young-Ran stated.

Soo Hyun looked at her. "I got involved in your business too."

"You nag alot." Young-Ran told him "But never have you punched anyone for me."

"That's because you threw the punches." came Soo Hyun's reply

"Right." Young-Ran admitted. "Maybe that's my issue then.I tend to do everything myself." She looked at Soo Hyun. "Yeo Jun must be a charming one to have changed you."

"We're from such different worlds that I thought we'd never get close." Soo Hyun admitted

"But now?" Young-Ran prompted

"I don't know. He's like my little brother in a way."

Young-Ran looked at him. "Is that all?" Soo Hyun looked at her but didn't answer. "So he grew on you." his friend redirected the question.

"He grew on me?"

Young-Ran smiled at her friend. "Wait here." she stopped them at a set of benches. "I'll go get us some drinks." Soo Hyun's protests went unacknowledged so in the end, he simply stood there while Young-Ran went off to do her task.

She'd just left when someone approached him.

"Soo Hyun." he heard his name.

He spun to face Mi-ju, the roommate of So-Bin and Young-Ran. "Yes?"

"Can I borrow your phone?" she asked.

"My phone?" he was puzzled. "But yours is in your hand." he pointed out.

She looked at the device in her hand awkwardly. "Oh. The battery is dead. I need to make an urgent call."

"Is that true?"

Both her eyes and her voice dipped. "No. Not really." The next split second, she looked up at him and recited a set of numbers. "It's my number. I'm sure you memorized it, being all smart and all." Soo Hyun looked at her and sighed "I should have your number too." she said with a smile "Give and take right?"

"I didn't memorize it." Soo Hyun said flatly. "I'm not smart, you see"

"But you're still handsome, so it's fine." Mi-Ju was quick to reply.

"I'm not that good looking either."

Her face fell. "Why won't you agree with me? Am I that unattractive to you?" she pouted slightly. "Wait. Don't answer that. There's a certain order to this. I won't bother you. Just tell me your number.I'll only look at your profile page." Soo Hyun was quiet "You won't allow that either?" Still no response. Getting the meaning of his silence, Mi-Ju took her leave with a sullen expression.

"Did something happen?" Young-Ran returned, handing him his drink. "Why does Mi-Ju look devastated?"

'I think I upset her." Soo Hyun confessed

"What do you mean?"

"She asked for my number."

"And?"

"I didn't give it to her."

"Why not?"

"I don't have that luxury." Soo Hyun replied.

"How can that stop you from giving her your number?"

" I mean I don't have the time to take interest in others." he looked away "Also I have nothing to offer her."

"You don't always have to give." Young-Ran pointed out. "The other person might be willing to give instead.Also. You can always make time for someone you like."

"Even though you like someone, you may still not have time for a relationship." Soo Hyun replied.

"What about now?" Young-Ran asked

"What about now?"

"Do you have someone that you like?" Soo Hyun looked at her but gave no answer.

"Hmm. Ok." Young-Ran took a sip of her drink as she sat beside her friend.She'd known him long enough to know that he would say anything he wanted to but would also not say the things that he didn't no matter what.

Yeo Jun was finally glad to be getting out of the house and back to school. So-Bin had brought him some medicine and now he was as right as rain.

"Jun. There you are." Go Sang Tae greeted Yeo Jun downstairs.

"I said we should meet on campus." Jun said when he saw him.

"But we used to walk together often.Don't act like this now." Jun didn't respond and walked on "If I were there, I would have laid Chun-Guk out flat." he said, referencing the incident from a few days ago "I left not knowing you'd come ."

Yeo Jun looked at him "But I saw you there."

"Come on." Sang Tae objected. "You probably saw wrong."

"I have someplace to stop by, so you can go ahead." Yeo Jun told him.

Sang Tae grabbed his hand "I had to move out of my apartment to pay for my mother's hospital bill.Can I bunk with you for a month?"

Yeo Jun looked at him and then to the place where he held on to his hand "I don't think so." he removed Sang Tae's hand.

"Why not? Why can't I stay at your place?"

"I have a roommate." Yeo Jun replied.

"A roommate?" Sang Tae was surprised. "Who?"

"Nam Soo Hyun." Jun said the first name that popped into his head.

"UP?" Sang Tae couldn't hide his surprise.

"Yes." Jun nodded. "Should we all bunk together?"

"Come on.I bet that's a lie."

"You lied about your dad being sick." Yeo Jun replied "Did you pay back the money you borrowed?" Sang Tae looked at the ground "How many times must I fall for your lies for you to stop?" Without another word, he left Sang Tae staring after him.

"We should talk." Yeo Jun addressed Chun-Guk as he sat with Gung-Ho and Sang Tae.

"We should talk?" Chun-Guk parrotted.

Yeo Jun walked away, waiting for him to follow.

"The police will contact you soon." Yeo Jun told Chun-Guk when they were alone.

"You're the one who provoked me you brat."

"There was too much violence, so I couldn't help it." Yeo Jun replied "I thought I should atleast give you a heads up." He walked away.

"So this is how it will be?" Chun-Guk asked "I guess Nam Soo Hyun will be my cellmate then."

Jun stopped in his tracks.

"What are you talking about?"

"Didn't you know?" Chun-Guk asked. "He attacked me the day I punched you." Yeo Jun finally had a proper look at Chun-Guk's face. It was also bruised in places.

Yeo Jun was in disbelief  "Soo Hyun punched you?"

"Just look at this" Chun Guk touched his face "Darn it. I have proof that he did it and I won't settle.I'll press charges."

A quiet anger flared within Yeo Jun and his smiling eyes turned cold. "Keep your mouth shut." he told Chun-Guk. "It's how you can save yourself." Chun-Guk looked at him, recognizing there was a certain coldness about Yeo Jun. "Leave Soo Hyun alone ." His voice carried more than a warning.

Chun Guk watched Yeo Jun as he walked away. A chill ran down his spine. "Again with that psychopathic look in his eyes."

"What did Jun say?" Gung-Ho asked Chun-Guk as the sat in class.

"He said Nam Soo Hyun was off limits." Chun-Guk replied

"He said that?"

"What a tear-jerking friendship right?" Chun-Guk spoke loudly enough so that Soo Hyun, who was sitting in his usual seat ahead of them could hear. "Or are they more than friends?"

Soo Hyun sighed deeply. He just needed to ignore them like he usually did.

"That two-faced jerk." Chun-Guk continued to gripe. "The real psychopath is Yeo Jun, not Nam Soo Hyun." 

Soo Hyun couldn't take it anymore. He spun in his seat and looked at them "Hey. Shut it will you?"

"What if I don't? Will you punch me again?"

Just then, Yeo Jun strolled in, making a beeline straight for Chun-Guk.

"What?" Chun-Guk spoke up. "I provoked your roommate. So what? I heard he lives with you." Soo Hyun looked at Yeo Jun. "It's a lie isn't it?" Chun-Guk asked. "Unbelievable. I heard you lied your way all through high school too.You lied about not having a brother.Isn't this an act of bullying too? Lying and stabbing people in the back to make a fool of them is bullying on a psychopathic level." Yeo Jun allowed him to speak "Anyway. Your brother is a professor here --"

"Yes.I live with Jun." Soo Hyun interjected. Yeo Jun slowly turned his head to look at Soo Hyun "How is that any of your business?" Soo Hyun continued to address Chun-Guk.

"Really?" Gung-Ho was surprised

"The only bullies here are you two." Soo Hyun's annoyance was evident in his tone "How about I make a big deal out of this? In front of all these witnesses?"

"Why? Will you punch me again?" Chun-Guk asked.

Yeo Jun smiled as he looked at Soo Hyun.

"I see the two of you really have a knack for pissing people off." Chun-Guk frowned.

"Remember what I said." Yeo Jun looked at Chun-Guk with those cold eyes again "I told you to stay low didn't I?" Chun Guk fell silent.

"Did you really punch Chun-Guk to avenge me?" Yeo Jun asked Soo Hyun as they exited the classroom. Soo Hyun looked at him "You're not one to hit anyone.Not especially for my sake. No way." He grabbed Soo Hyun's hand that was stuffed in the pocket of his jacket "How's your fist?" Soo Hyun pulled his hand away. "You really care about me that much? Enough to get revenge for me?"

Soo Hyun finally stopped walking and looked at him. "How can you be laughing? Why haven't you reported him to the police yet?"

"That's for me to take care of." Jun replied. "You know, I always dreamed of this. Having someone who would stick up for me."

"You have the weirdest wishes." Soo Hyun commented.

"I like you." Yeo Jun blurted out, stunning both himself and Soo Hyun. "Waitt--I mean--" he fumbled for words.

"Can you leave me alone now?" Soo Hyun pretended he didn't just hear that or that his heart hitched slightly at the words.

"You know saying that will only make me more clingy." 

Soo Hyun sighed, aware of the truth in Jun's words.

"Why did you say I was your roommate?" Soo Hyun changed the subject. 

"Because no one else would dare come barging in."

"I see. You're using the image I have."

"I'm think about selling emojis based on you." Jun teased.  "No. Leave. Get Lost. Whatever."  he recounted some of Soo Hyun's expressions. "Sweet right?"

Before he could reply, Soo Hyun's phone rang.

[Soo Hyun.] Soo Hyun heard his brother's voice on the line. 

"What's with your voice?" Soo Hyun asked.

[Mom told me not to tell you, but her back's acting up again.] Soo Hyun mouthed to Jun that he was taking off as he listened to his brother. [According to Uncle, she might not walk without surgery but mom said she'd rather die than get surgery. What should we do?]

"Isn't it obvious?" Soo Hyun replied "Don't worry about it and study hard. I'll take care of it."

After the call ended, Soo Hyun walked in a daze.

Life had done it again. Another obstacle. Another thing for him to deal with.

Once again, he was reminded for him, there were no breaks and no one to rely on. He would fix his own problems....

He wasn't sure how long he walked around and couldn't tell exactly where he want. It was all a mess, a blur of thoughts.

Taking another drink of his alcohol, he sighed deeply looking out at the night's sky.Tears pricked his eyes and the alcohol burned as it went down.

What a pitiful life..

[ash-writies]

hiiii~ i saw that you didn’t cross out touch starved, so i wanted to request that if it hasn’t been already!

may i request a suggestive thing with connor with the prompt “touch starved”? like, he’s starting to experience sexual desire since the day he deviated and he tries to explain how he feels, and the reader helps him out 🥰

A/n: Finally putting a temporary end to the touch starved prompt…although this physically pained me to write I hope you enjoy! Likes and reblogs are very appreciated <3

A/n II: Sorry this took so long to push out. I had a whole plan for this ask but then I chickened out and didn’t know what to write :(

Summary: When you come back from out of town you notice Connor acting shady. The next morning he decides to talk to you about it.

Warnings: Smut

~900 Words

You set your keys in the ceramic ashtray on the counter, one of Connor’s latest hobbies. “I’m back!” you called out, you knew Connor was usually home by this time. You were gone for a week, it was supposed to be for longer but work finished early and you wanted to surprise him. 

You heard a bit of shuffling then Connor rounded the corner, “y/n! Your back early!”

You laughed as he pulled you into a hug, you wrapped your arms around his neck, “I wanted to surprise you!” He hummed as you ran a hand through his hair, “why is it like this?”

“I was laying down,” he muttered into your shoulder.

“Laying down?”

“I’m caught up on work and housework. Humans enjoy laying down in their free time so I decided to try it out.”

You pulled back and he reluctantly released you, “well after the long trip here, I would sure love to lay down for a bit.”

“Of course,” he smiled, picking up your bags and leading you to your room. 

You took your shirt and jeans off, “so did you enjoy it?”

His LED flickered red, “what?”

You furrowed your eyebrows as you pulled on a baggy shirt and some shorts, “laying down…”

“Oh, yeah-” he said, trying to play it off as he sat on the bed.

You smirked, “you were totally doing something else weren’t you?”

“No,” his LED began to blink yellow.

“Yeah you were!” you jumped behind him onto the bed, “what was it?”

“It was nothing-” he sputtered, “I don’t wanna talk about it.”

“Why not?”

“Because-” his eyes met yours and he looked away, “nothing you should just get some rest.”

You didn’t miss the look that flashed across his face when he looked at you. You pressed your lips together, “you know you can talk to me right?”

“I know,” he sighed. 

When he didn’t continue, your wrapped your arms around him and pressed a kiss to his LED, “we should get some rest then.” You released him and moved to your side of the bed. You slipped under the covers and waited for him to join you. He slowly eased under the blankets and shuffled towards you. His LED was finally back to blue. 

“Get some rest,” he muttered. You pressed your lips together and closed your eyes, hoping sleep would find you soon enough.

When you woke up Connor wasn’t in the room. You wanted to call out to him but thought he probably just wanted space. You grabbed a towel and took a quick shower. Afterward, you dried off as much as possible, grabbed the shirt and shorts you changed out of, and went to the kitchen. Connor was sitting on the couch. You wandered into the kitchen and began digging in the counter. You moved to the fridge and the freezer, opening their doors and closing them after looking for a minute. You ended up grabbing a pop-tart and sitting on the couch next to Connor. You watched his LED jump from blue to amber, “are you sure you don’t want to talk about it?”

“It is normal for people in a relationship to talk about these kinds of things,” he muttered to himself. You set the half-eaten pop-tart aside, dusted off your hands and shirt, and waited for him to continue. “Ever since I deviated I’ve been having certain feelings. At first, they were small and didn’t require attention but a few months after we started dating they got bigger and stronger…” He furrowed his brows and looked at you, “do you know what I mean?”

“Not really, what kind of feelings?” you asked, even though you had a pretty good idea.

He cleared his throat, “um- sexual feelings…”

You stared at him and opened your mouth to speak before closing it, you didn’t want to say something stupid, “okay…” Then it clicked. That’s what he was doing yesterday.

He shifted, “I didn’t want to talk about it because I felt like it would make you uncomfortable-”

“No no no,” you said, “it’s completely fine. I just didn’t think you wanted stuff like that.”

“Well, I do….”

You bit back a smirk, “oh? What kind of stuff do you imagine?”

“I- mostly you on top of me,” you hummed, sliding across the couch.

“Anything else?” His LED glowed yellow as you settled in his lap, he only shook his head, “is there anything you don’t like?” he shook his head again, “well, I like it when you use your words.”

“Okay,” he whimpered. You smiled and leaned down to kiss him, his hands immediately held onto your hips. As he deepened the kiss, you ground down on his dick. He moaned into your mouth and you smirked, enjoying his reaction. You moaned at the friction, repeating the action, he threw his head back and began panting.

“Is this what you were imagining?” you whispered, leaning forward.

“Yes,” he muttered desperately, his voice husky and filled with static. You smiled and began to kiss his neck, occasionally stopping to leave bites, still grinding on him. You moved to kiss him and felt his hands trail up your shirt. You sighed as you slid your tongue over his, the feeling of his sensors never failing to surprise you.

“How close are you?” you gasped, breaking away.

“72 percent,” he groaned. 

You smirked and slid off of him, “well, let's finish this somewhere else.”

[darylspissslit]

Yay so I finished a fic that I kinda abandoned. I started it going in one direction and then switched like halfway through. There was also weeks in between writing because I started this in September. I did go back through a few times and change some stuff so hopefully that helped with the mess.

Also I try to keep y/n descriptions to a minimum so they can be inclusive to race and gender but this story is not. They are feminine, fat, and have short curly hair so I'm sorry for that. Its all easy to ignore though so hopefully everyone can still enjoy it ☺️

This is part of the Norman Whores Discord Prompt Challenge. Shout out to @theteasetwrites for making such a fun community 💖 Unfortunately this is a few months past due sorry.

September 2022 Prompt: “I don’t like them all looking at you.” “Remember, you’re the only one who can look at me all night long.”

Word Count- 2,033

A wedding in the middle of the apocalypse. Friends and family gathering, beautiful dresses, music, food, and even a wedding cake complete with bride and groom atop the smooth white icing. It was a beautiful site to see. Nothing you thought you would ever see again, everything seemed normal within the protective cold steel of the walls.

Maggie and Glenn were getting married. Sure they were already married back at the prison, but being in Alexandria gave them the opportunity to have a wedding. Was it impractical to have a wedding at the end of the world? Yes. Was it a poor use of people and resources to go out and raid bridal shops for dresses? Yes, yes it was. But it was okay because today Alexandria was going to be filled with smiles and love.

You looked in the mirror and smiled. Your hair was done properly for the first time since the apocalypse started. Your hair was short and curly only reaching the bottom of your ears so there wasn’t much you could do with it but you had the sides twisted and pinned back with sparkly hair pins leaving the rest of your hair down.

Smoothing your hands down your dress you smiled even wider. You were wearing a silky light green dress. It had thin straps and the chest was rather revealing. The dress stopping at the knees. The smooth tight fabric accentuated your stomach perfectly. What looked like a simple dress when lying on the bed, on you it looked like the gods took your body and dipped it in silk.

“Woah” you heard lowly behind you. Turning around you saw Rosita standing in the doorway. She was wearing a dark blue sparkly strapless dress down to her knees. “Woah yourself” you said back smiling. “We look hot” she said walking up to the mirror to check herself out. You let out a light giggle and nod “hell yeah we do” you said turning around to check yourself out too.

Your group gathered outside as everyone was getting ready. Michonne was adjusting Ricks tie while laughing at some story he told. Abraham and Sasha sat on the steps of the house talking about their last experiences at a wedding. You and Rosita sat on the porch swing talking about how excited y’all were to dance later.

You looked up as the front door opened, Daryl walking out onto the porch you smiled wide. A dark grey button up a nice contrast to his usual all black wardrobe, with black dress pants, with shiny black dress shoes to match. He looked over to you sitting on the porch swing. His eyes first meeting your face with a big lopsided grin. His eyes trailing from your face down your chest his smile gently fading and biting his lip as his eyes continued down to your thick thighs wrapped in the silky fabric of your dress, his eyes continuing down to your bare legs all the way to your crossed ankles and back up your body to meet your eyes.

You looked back over to Rosita and excused yourself. Standing up and walking over to Daryl you ran your hand down his arm “well don’t you look handsome” you said in sultry tone lacing your fingers together. He smiled and looked down trying to hide the blush quickly spreading, scuffing the toe of his shiny shoe on the porch.

“You look amazing” he replied kissing the back of your hand.

You walked down the steps with Daryl following the rest of the group to gather at the chairs neatly placed in rows lining a walkway to the gazebo. White lace ribbons and fake white and yellow flowers embellished the back and legs of the chairs. Leading up to the gazebo more flowers were scattered along the ground. The gazebo was decorated with white and yellow ribbon and flowers matching the chairs. Streamers with paper doves hung from the ceiling.

Before long family and friends sat chatting amongst themselves. Glenn, Maggie and the group stood under the gazebo. The group paired up and split on either sides of the bride and groom. Hand written vows were shared with a cheesy poem Glenn wrote for Maggie. Glancing over you even saw a tear roll down Daryl’s cheek. “You may now kiss the bride!” Gabriel exclaimed as Glenn and Maggie went in for a giggly kiss. Holding hands as they walked back down the isle. Hugging people along the way as people threw flower petals over them.

Music played through the house as people danced and talked. Plenty of homemade wine and moonshine passed around in place of champagne. Maggie and Glenn embraced as they danced. Maggie’s head resting on Glenn’s shoulder they swayed side to side. Michonne and Rick slow dancing behind them Michonnes bright smile never fading.

You left Daryl on the sofa to retrieve both of you a refill. Standing at the counter pouring some peach wine in the glasses you heard footsteps approach. “looking good” you heard sam the local douchebag behind you.

Choosing to ignore him you poured the second glass as he leaned on the counter next to you. “why isn’t your boyfriend getting your drink?” He asked in a smug tone.

You rolled your eyes and sighed “because I can do it myself” you replied.

“well you’d never have to lift a finger if you were with me” he said as he reached out to touch your arm.

You moved your arm away quickly and looked at him eyes narrow “well here’s one finger I wanna lift” you said as you raised your middle finger and picked up the glasses just as Daryl walked in.

“Everything alright?” Daryl asked walking over to you and wrapping his arm around your waist protectively as he eyed the guy. “yeah I was just about to bring you this” you replied handing him his drink. Sam rolled his eyes as he stormed out of the kitchen. You turned to Daryl and smiled “you alright?” he asked again looking at you. You nodded and smiled “he’s just being a dick again” you said nonchalant grabbing his hand and leading him back to the main room.

You stood with Daryl and a few people talking about how great the day turned out and sharing new decorating ideas for future celebrations. During the conversation Daryl’s arm slipped around your waist. You smiled and continued talking. After a few minutes you noticed Daryl had slowly inched his way behind you towering over you like a lighthouse on a cliff. You looked up at him and noticed he was staring over at a group of guys drinking across from you. You looked back at the person that was talking and continued the conversation. Daryl still standing behind you squeezing your side every once in a while. “Excuse us” he said in a gruff tone gently tugging your hand with him making your way through the house.

You grabbed his arm stopping him on the porch. “What’s wrong?” you asked looking up at him confused. “Nothin” he shrugged grabbing his smokes from his back pocket. You grabbed the matches from one hand while he put the cigarette to his lips. Striking the match and bringing it to his hand rolled cigarette he looked at the flame and then to your eyes as he lit the smoke. You blew the match out and tossed it on the sidewalk. Leaning against the railing of the porch you watched Daryl quietly smoke. “So you pulled us away from the party for a smoke break?” you asked crossing your arms. He gave a small shrug as he took a drag. Daryl took a few more puffs and shifted nervously “I don’t like them all looking at you” he spoke breaking the silence. You furrowed your brow and looked at him with a small frown “what do you mean?” you asked as you reached out to gently rest your hands on his arms. “Everyone. They all look at ya like you’re the most beautiful person in the room. And ya are” he said almost ashamed of being jealous.

He wanted to leave. He didn’t like the group of guys staring at you like you were the last drop of water in a drought. Daryl knew you were beautiful, probably the most beautiful person he’d ever seen. He was scared of losing you. It took an apocalypse killing off half the population just for him to find someone who cared about him and, it took most of the apocalypse for him to even make a move. So now that you were his he couldn’t lose you. He knew you loved him but, there was still that angry little demon scratching at his brain and tugging on his heart telling him he wasn’t good enough for you.

You smiled wide your cheeks feeling warm from being called beautiful by Daryl. Its not that he didn’t do it often because he did. Daryl called you beautiful every chance he could, you just never got used to it.

Cupping the sides of Daryl’s scruffy cheeks you leaned in kissing him passionately. You pulled back and looked him in the eyes “Daryl I love you. You’re my best friend and the best partner anyone can have. You don’t have anything to worry about. I promise.” You stroked his cheeks gently with your thumb and pecked his lips.

“They can look at me sometimes but remember, you’re the only one who can look at me all night long” you said with a cheeky grin as you shook your hips side to side trying your best to be cute and bring out a smile. Successfully Daryl smiled wide pulling you closer to him. “I love ya bunny” he said his accent sounding thick and he rested his forehead against yours.

You closed your eyes for a second enjoying the contact. “Well when you’re done we’re going back in. I haven’t gotten my slow dance yet.” You said lovingly

You grabbed his hand as he snubbed out his cigarette. Leading him back inside you found an open spot in the house to stand. Grabbing his arms and wrapping them around your waist you looked up at him and smiled as you then wrapped your arms around his neck. Swaying gently side to side you started to slow dance. Fade Into You playing on the boombox the lovely melody carrying through the house.

Looking up at Daryl you smiled noticing the nervous look on his face. “Is this alright?” you ask starting to second guess making him dance with you. Maybe he was ready to go home and you were keeping him up. He looked back down at you with a little nod. You smiled and continued to dance to the sappy love song playing.

You rested your head on his chest as you danced to the music. Closing your eyes you let the music and Daryls warmth take over relaxing your every muscle, you felt so in love. He was your safe place and you were his. Nothing around you mattered in the moment.

Daryl ran his hands slowly up and down your exposed back from the backless dress enjoying the feel of the soft skin against his work worn hands. He was at peace.

A few songs passed before you finally stopped. The party had died down and people were starting to head home. You guys started to clean up a little deciding it would be best to finish cleaning tomorrow.

“Ready to go home?” Daryl asked as you threw a few empty beer bottles into a recycling bag.

You looked at him and nodded as you walked over to him reaching your hand out for him to hold. “I only wanna go home with you” you said smiling as you loved your fingers together and headed for the door. Daryl pulled you closer kissing your temple he smiled. He was insecure but you were never gonna let him forget that you weren’t going anywhere.

[aldryrththerainbowheart]

In their defense

Fandom: Vampire hunter D

Tags: D x reader

Note: local dragon still struggles with titles, more at 7

You felt their eyes the moment you two walked over the bridge, by the time you made it to a square there was a small crowd following you.

Curiosity is oftentimes stronger than fear.

D and you finally made it to the stables and while he was bargaining with the mechanic on the repair of his cyborg steed, you scanned a yard of the rest stop. It didn’t take long and you saw four figures approaching the shop. Words travel fast you thought to yourself as you spotted plasma rifles in their hands. There wasn’t a reason for four armed men, probably the sheriff and his henchmen, to target you. But you could take a guess as to why are they here.

“Hey!” the man in the middle called out to D, but he kept his back turned to the group.

When D didn’t acknowledge their presence, the sheriff pointed his gun at him, “I’m talking to you!”

The only response he got was a turn of the head.

The sheriff regarded him in disgust “we don’t tolerate Dhampir in this town.”

D kept silent. He made a single step towards them, but that action alone made them point all their weapons at him. You saw the fear in their eyes as clear as day. Even though the hunter did nothing that would indicate aggression, they were terrified by his presence alone.

The atmosphere was so thick one could cut it with a knife, and you realized that if somebody don’t do something things could escalate quickly. And that someone has to be you, apparently.

With sweaty palms, you slowly step between D and four plasma rifles, now pointing directly at you. “How about we all calm down,” you chuckled awkwardly raising your hands in placating manner. “We’re just dropping by and we’ll be out of your hair.” The only thing you’ve managed was that the man’s accusing glare was directed at you now.

“I don’t want trouble in this town-”

“And neither do we!” you interrupted and walked over to D. Patting the dhampir's arm, you exclaimed, “the truth is, we’re on an important mission to get rid of some vamp…so if you want to have your day saved once more let us do our work,” you finished your speech with a charming grin.

You don’t know who was more taken aback, whether the lawmen at your flippant and bit arrogant statement or D when he listened to you talk about your mission as if you contribute to the hunt in any way.

When the sheriff got out of his confused stupor, he loaded the rifle and put it right between your eyes. You’ve never been eye to eye with the barrel before and needless to say, you didn’t like it one bit. The fake confidence you plastered on a minute ago started to falter. You felt a hand on your shoulder as D silently prompted you to stay out of harm’s way but you were sick of this.

Whenever you appeared they gave you ostracized glares and shunned you for no other reason than fear and ignorance. Supplies suddenly ran out when you needed them, all inns were empty the moment you stepped into a town, and whenever D investigated the details of his current case no one was willing to work with him. All the while he risked his skin to help those who had nothing but a scornful word for him. He’d tell you he’s used to this, not realizing or ignoring the fact that this is the problem.

“Listen to me kid.”

“No you listen to me.” with a firm voice that didn’t concede any argument, you held the man’s gaze as if you had a gun barrel aiming at your forehead.

“We’ve been traveling for two weeks now. We’re exhausted and hungry and our only means of transport is broken. D’s used to being treated like shit simply because he’s in a position that he had no choice in, but the last thing you can do is treat him with enough respect to leave him the fuck alone!” Your voice was getting louder, but you couldn’t stop. “Need I remind you that this guy is risking his neck, fighting the most dangerous creatures in the entire Frontier, saving sorry asses of people like you!”

D noticed a few citizens started to gather at the front gate of the repair shop, trying to catch a glimpse of the dhampir vampire hunter and his companion. This is starting to turn into quite a scene.

He put his arm around your shoulders and dragged you to his new cyborg horse, dropping a coinpurse in front of the confused mechanic. Before you had a chance to complain he grabbed your waist and hoisted you on the horse. As he mounted the sleek black steed, he tipped his hat at the mechanic, and then you were off. He galloped through the streets out of the city and when you looked back, the sheriff and his men were standing there. Not running after you or shooting at you. You counted as a success, even though you’d rather not imagine what names they were calling you now.

D slowed the horse down to a trot once the city was a small speck in the distance. The mad dash was replaced by awkward silence. You didn’t want to wait for D to scold you, so you started talking first.

“Listen here, I-” “Thank you.” That was the first time he spoke during this whole ordeal, you didn’t know to react so you let out a confused “Huh?”

Hunter kept his eyes on the horizon as he said, “no one defended me like that before,” and you could swear there was a hint of a smile on his face.

[erodasfishtacos]

~ MLB Curious Gazes ~

prompt: four different situations where people have run into or hung out with MLB!H - told from their perspective.

word: 6k +

warnings: language, mentions of sexual content

If you enjoyed this please - reblog, like, recommend, comment, and inbox me to chat about it!

please consider donating to my kofi - my work is FREE and it is a great way to show support!

enjoy!

-=-=-=-=-=-

The Doctor’s Office

Aubrey couldn’t believe her eyes as she sat in her uncomfortable, too small chair in the empty waiting room at the OBGYN office in the early hours of the morning. 

She was sitting alone with her baby boy sitting in his carrier on the floor - it was his nine month checkup and it was taking forever to be seen.

The woman was sitting, scrolling on her phone when out of her peripheral she saw an extremely - like extremely handsome man step into the area with a carrier.

Aubrey was a married woman but holy shit this guy was hot- without even trying is the thing. 

He had on a New York Yankees Nike hoodie and a pair of Nike athletic shorts with some calf length Blake Nike socks and trainers.

In the carrier was a fresh little baby, couldn’t be older than three months who was bundled up with a sunflower headband on.

The man was multitasking with a curly haired toddler on his other hip as he finds a seat a little bit down from Aubrey on the opposite side.

His wife was standing up at the check-in and of course it made sense that she was absolutely beautiful as well even though Aubrey could relate to how tired she looked.

The woman still had a small bit of her pregnancy bump left signifying that the baby was indeed very very new to the world.

She keeps glancing over at the man, he looks so familiar but she would remember if she had even met someone that handsome.

Then the context clues hit her, his hoodie, his toddler son was also in a little Yankees hoodie that matched his fathers and Aubrey googled quickly.

Her eyes flitted throughout the recent articles.

Styles’ Alleged $65 Million Dollar Bonus

Hot Head Harry Styles - how he managed to start three bench clearing brawls in one game!

Breaking Records and Bats - Styles manages to break his own record in the same season followed by breaking a bat in celebration

Holy shit.

She could help but watch them - this was much more interesting than reading a magazine.

Aubrey didn’t follow baseball but Harry had turned celebrity status and was this well known cocky dickhead to the media - women and men loved and drooled over him for his looks and his skills.

Right now, he sat down with his two babies - the boy looked exactly like Harry, it was quite unbelievable from the curly locks to mossy green eyes that was copy and paste.

Harry was currently tucking an applesauce pouch between his lips and guiding the boy's small hands to hold it for himself.

“Good job,  ,” He murmurs in the dead quiet waiting room as he tucks him further into the crook of his arm.

Harry looks up to his wife who joins them, she is a bit in awe when Aubrey sees him palm a bit at her bloated belly and whisper, “Y’look gorgeous today, mama.”

Aubrey couldn’t help but frown, she wished her husband did that.

YN sits down, leaning her head on his shoulder - Aubrey didn’t know her but she seems tired - of course she was a new mother.

The silence is broken when a nurse comes out and with an apologetic face says, “I’m sorry, we are running really behind today. It might be another thirty minutes,” before shutting the door again.

Harry kisses his wife’s forehead before wrapping his unoccupied arm around her shoulder, a flashing gold band on his ring finger.

Aubrey zones off for a little when her son wakes up, rocking the carrier a few times before he settles again.

She’s brought back to the couple when she hears a sniffle comes from Harry’s wife and his face turned towards hers, hand rubbing her shoulder reassuringly.

“Mama, she’s so healthy. There’s nothin’ to worry about, did a perfect job growing her in y’belly. I know these check-ups make you anxious but nothin’ is gonna be wrong,” He soothes, a near whisper because of how quiet the room is and he didn’t want to disrupt.

“I just don’t know if she’s been getting enough milk, it’s so hard to tell,” YN replies sadly, like she’s disappointed in herself.

“Y’kidding me? She’s our chunkiest baby - look at those little rolls. She’s on y’tits more than any of the boys including me,” He jokes softly, obviously trying to make her feel better.

It seems to work a little bit because she lets out a light giggle with a roll of her eyes, “No one is on them more than you.”

Harry shrugs unashamed before replying seriously, “Everything will be okay. She’s perfect and healthy.”

The curly haired little boy gets a bit squirmy with the wait after he finished his pouch, asking to be set down which his father does.

Harry is watching him carefully, his nervous but still adventurous little two and a half year old, as he toddles around the waiting room.

When he spots Aubrey and her carrier, he wanders over looking up her with wide curious eyes, he points at her son and squeaks, “Baby?”

Ever the diligent father, Harry is up and next to his son, Aubrey is a bit starstruck if she’s honest when he talks to her.

“M’sorry, he’s a curious little one,” Harry smiles at her, going to pick Ezra back up to guide him away from bothering her.

Aubrey waves her hand though, lifting the visor to show the sleeping baby, “Yeah, he’s a baby. That’s Dominic.”

The boy gazes at the baby before lisping, “Bry!”

Aubrey isn’t sure what he means but his father clarifies, “You’re right, Dominic is a baby just like your little sister Briar.”

“Okay,” Ezra shrugs and goes back to his mom to inform him of what he just discovered before crawling up and cuddling into her chest.

Harry nods, “Thanks for indulging him.”

“No pro-problem,” She stutters like an idiot and Harry smiles a bit like he knows but doesn’t say anything else before going back to his family.

A few minutes later when a high-pitched cry resounds through the room, Harry is carefully cradling his daughter who Aubrey notes looks nothing like him but like her mother even though her features were still so little.

“Shush, darlin’,” Harry coos with a soft drawl, leaning in to kiss at the newborn’s button nose.

Briar roots at her father’s chest, smacking her plump lips, and squeaking in frustration when she doesn’t find a nipple. It makes Harry chuckle before he glances at his wife and his smile falters a bit, “Sweetheart, did y’bring a bottle?”

Aubrey watches his wife shake her head, she is facing away from her so she can’t see her expression but gauging Harry’s it seems that she may be upset, “No, I completely forgot. I didn’t bring my nursing blanket either - I’m going to have to go the bathroom. M’being such a bad mom.”

The observer feels a pang in her chest, she can definitely relate to not always feeling like she is a good mother because of little mistakes she makes like forgetting diapers, buying the wrong formula, forgetting to bring a pacifier.

“Hey,” Harry’s voice is firm, “Y’not going to talk like that when s’the farthest thing from the truth. S’okay, we have four babies, we’re both goin’ t’forget things sometimes, okay? Here, let me help you.”

Aubrey wishes she had a husband who was as empowering, supportive of his wife.

He hands the whimpering baby over to his wife, he’s then tugging off his hoodie. Aubrey tries but fails to divert her eyes when his shirt rides up revealing  a glimpse of his taut abdomen and a light dusting of hair leading into his shorts, obscene tattoos covering his hipbones .

Harry maneuvers the hoodie over his wife’s shoulder, helping her tug down her loose shirt and nursing bra, and guiding his newborn to his wife’s breast until she latches and starts suckling hungrily.

“There y’go mama,” He whispers encouragingly before tugging Ezra back onto his lap to rock him a bit as he’s getting whiny - ready for a nap soon and not liking being in an unfamiliar place for too long.

-

Aubrey is buckling Dominic into his carseat when she spots the other family exiting the office. 

Harry’s wife looks much more relaxed, a smile on her face, and her arm tucked around her husband’s narrow hip, they’re parked close to each other, and Aubrey climbs into her small sedan - blasting the aircon.

She watches the parents strapp their kids into a massive, tinted and brand new cadillac escalade that was no doubt over a hundred thousand dollar car but who could expect them to be driving around a mid-level minivan?

After the kids are secured and they close the doors, Harry presses his wife up against it with his arm resting over her shoulder against the window. He is whispering to her, their mouths close before he ducks down to connect their lips.

His hand comes back to her deflating baby bump like he did in the doctor’s office, hand massaging the skin with adoration that was visible even to Aubrey as she sat in her car watching them.

Later on in the week, as she sits on her couch, a video pops up on her timeline. It’s a sports report she was about to skip until the name caught her attention. 

The sports reporter stated, “Harry Styles was fined an alleged sixty thousand dollars at last night’s game after getting into a verbal altercation when the second base man purposely tripped him.”

It flashes to the man she just saw in the doctor’s office in a form-fitting Yankee’s blue and white striped uniform with a helmet on as he ran at an impressive speed from first to second, stumbling when the baseman put out his foot.

Harry recovers quickly enough to touch the base to be considered safe. 

After that though, he’s pushing himself up and brushing off the dirt, then he’s charging towards the man who fucked up the play. 

He has no fear as he gets in the man’s face, veins on his neck standing out as he shouts. They don’t play the audio but you could tell Harry was cussing this man up and down.

It flashed back to the reporter speaking to another, “Nearly every team in the league reports that Styles is an absolute nightmare to play against from his skill to his downright arrogant and cocky attitude. He’s not someone I’d find myself wanting to hang around.”

“I agree with you there, Tucker. He has a right to be proud with all of his broken records and achievements but being a bit humble would do this man so good. I feel sorry for his wife and kids. He probably just spends all day bragging about himself.”

Aubrey clicks off the video, if only everyone in the world just saw the Harry Styles she saw just a few days ago - well they’d all change their minds on what kind of person he is. Especially what kind of husband and father.

--

The Charity Event

It was a charity event at Madison Square Garden in Time Square. 

It was for all Major League Baseball teams who had qualified for the playoffs and of course, The New York Yankees were there.

There were tables filling the whole stadium, extravagant in white linen tablecloths, multiple bars, and it was black tie dress code. 

It was a private event and it was not open to the public but after the dinner there would be awards given out and that would be broadcasted.

Nicole was there with her husband, Trent, the left outfielder with an average batting score. He wasn’t the most popular on the team by far - well everyone got outshined by Styles. 

She couldn’t help but be a little bitter that Harry had gotten a $60 million dollar bonus (the biggest bonus ever gifted but also the Yankees were not taking any chances at losing their star and their ultimate money-maker). Trent got a measly bonus of $100,000 which was nothing in baseball terms. 

The wives and girlfriends of the Yankees players did not like YN one bit. It really wasn’t fair because she was always lovely, kind, and friendly. It didn’t matter because they were all spurred on by jealousy of what she had.

Nicole couldn’t help by gaze at Harry as they sat at the same circle table towards the podium where the awards would be presented after dinner. He was in a sharp all black suit with a small team logo pin of the lapel.

She couldn’t deny how stunning YN looked in an absolutely stunning dress. It was a one-shoulder with sparkling black stripes against a tan background, it fit like a glove and accentuated her stunning legs with a high slit. ***

It blew Nicole’s basic black Gucci dress out of the water which made her even more infuriated at the woman. She knew she was being irrational and if she hated her so much, why couldn’t see stop staring at the couple?

Nicole could get away with it by looking past them at other tables but to be quite honest, the two were much too wrapped up in each other to be aware of any of their surroundings or people watching them.

Trent was off bullshitting with all the other players while the Styles’ sat at the table and Harry waited for people to approach him - like the cocky asshole that he was. He would give them a minute of his time before becoming visibly bored and returning his attention back to his wife.

As the appetizers arrived, Trent finally sat down with a grunt, giving his wife literally no attention as he dug into the salad like a slob. 

Across the table, Harry looked down at his plate, picked out all the tomatoes and stabbed them with his fork. He then brought his hand over to his wife who giggled and let him feed her the three little tomatoes for his salad.

“Don’t like tomatoes, Styles?” Henry, third-baseman, jokes as he watches him feed his wife without any shame.

“I love ‘em, m’missus just really like the little grape ones,” Harry shrugs casually - like that didn’t just sound like the most whipped thing that he could say.

Trent probably couldn’t even guess Nicole’s favorite color - let alone know something so minuscule like YN like the little tomatoes that come on house salads. 

Throughout the whole dinner, it was quite disgusting how infatuated these two were with each other - Harry had at least one hand on her body at one time - her thigh, shoulder, even cupping her neck in a way that was almost too intimate for the setting.

At one point, Harry notices that YN is a bit quiet - sipping on her glass of water and he pulls back from the conversation, murmuring, “Y’alright, mama?”

Nicole bites her lip hard at the cute pet name, feeling even more dislike towards YN - why couldn’t she have had someone like Harry?

“D’you think the babies are okay? Ezra’s been so anxious lately,” YN replies quietly, there were no phones allowed at the event and had to be left at home or at the door.

Harry kisses her temple, “Y’know Ezzie is good with m’mum, doesn’t get as anxious as he used to at sleepovers. Y’know East and Cash are probably on a sugar high.”

YN nods, agreeing and Harry jumps right back into the conversation but she notices that he keeps looking over at his wife to check on her.

Trent accidentally knocks her elbow hard and just grunts out a bland, “Sorry.”

The topic changed to traveling for games. Ellie, another wife of a player who was nice to YN were chatting about how stressful it is.

“I know, loading all three boys up is rough when we do decide to travel to games with H,” YN says to Ellie, a small smile on her face.

“Ugh, I know. Lily and Parker are the worst flyers! They usually end up throwing up or not being able to nap at all,” Ellie groans about her two little ones she has back at home.

YN let’s out a laugh that just irked Nicole to not end.

“It's going to be even harder when we have more kids,” YN laments like she’s bothered.

“Oh? More kids?” Ellie squeaks with excitement, clapping her hands together.

Nicole reaches a breaking point, jumping into the chat,“Really? More kids? Don’t you think you should focus on the ones you have? Or do you think because your husband makes an unfair amount of money, you can just have as many as you want? Hire nannies and act like you take care of them?”

Before YN frowns, about to respond when Harry interjects with a booming, displeased voice, “First off, why don’t y’mind your own fuckin’ business. My wife and I can ‘ave any many kids as we want, last time I checked.”

He continues with tense posture, all of his previous calmness disappears, “Second off, don’t take it out on my wife tha’ your husband got a shit bonus, we all know tha’ why y’pissy. And don’t act like y’dont have a nanny for your one kid while we don’t nor ever will have one.”

Nicole sneers, “You’re a cocky bastard.”

Harry smiles in faux charm, “Of course I am, dear. I’ve got a fucking beautiful wife, three healthy babies, the most records broken in history, and the fattest bank account in this room.”

“Alright, alright,” Trent interrupts and it doesn’t go unnoticed that he doesn’t defend his wife. Instead he shoots Harry an apologetic look for his wife’s behaviors.

Harry just scoffs at the couple, rudely rolling his eyes, and tugging his wife in for a kiss that’s a bit too intense but he can’t help himself, smiles against her lips when his wife pinches his thigh playfully.

He says (not quietly at all), “All these women are jealous of you, hm? S’cause you’re so beautiful and such a fuckin’ catch.”

Nicole feel a sharp pang in her chest at the indirect comment - fucking asshole.

Deep down, Nicole is unfavorably realizing that somehow YN has it all - a loving husband, who is seemingly head over heels four her, three well-behaved children, and everything she could ever want - sitting on Harry’s $600 million dollar net worth, on top of being gorgeous.

She didn’t have that. Trent and her were on the rocks constantly, has definitely cheated on her, their kid is a literal nightmare, and they’re both so reckless with money they have no savings.

It made her jealous to see Harry whispering in YN ear to make her giggle- lips brushing her ear, his hand splayed across her bumcheek while they waited for drinks at the bar, she even hears them murmur ‘I love yous’ at least twice.

Then the lights dim, spotlight on a podium in the front of the room, an older man in a crisp navy suit taking the stage.

“It is an honor for me to announce ‘Player of the Year.’ The decision by the board of Major League Baseball wasn’t a hard one. The statistics and records broke continuously by the man has led us to only one option.”

Everyone watches all the other players in room deflate a bit because they realize the award is going to Harry yet again.

 “He is again breaking a record tonight, he is the first player to earn this achievement four years in a row. The duality of this man when it comes to pitching a curveball or hitting a homer is truly remarkable.”

It makes all the players even more irritated than they already are when they look over at Harry who’s sitting back, manspreading, hand on the back of his wife’s neck gently, and a cocky, unbothered grin.

Like this award wasn’t the biggest accomplishment he could earn.

One of the players from an opposing team at a different table mutters to one of his teammates, “Fucking arrogant asshole. The only thing this award does is feed his gigantic ego.” 

“Such a douchebag,” The other agrees, jealousy tinges his voice.

“I’ve most likely made it obvious who the the recipient is this year. The New York Yankees pitcher with the most strikeouts to date and top-scoring hitter - Mr. Harry Styles!”

The crowd erupts in applause, whistles, and a standing ovation because despite his unsavory demeanor - no one could deny he was a legend.

Before he gets up, Nicole watches as he cups his wife’s cheek - locking her lips in a kiss before she has to give him a playful shove when he tries to slip some tongue.

When Harry gets up to the stage, he shakes the hand of the announcer and takes the award from him, setting it on the podium.

“Fourth year in a row has a nice ring to it,” Harry gives the crowd a dazzling white smile that have his dimples digging into his cheek.

The crowd whistles and coos.

Nicole notices YN getting teary-eyed as she watches her husband accept the award.

“I want t’thank a few people tonight. I want t’thank m’wife and the mama of my babies - YN. She’s supported me from when I was in college with no other career path but baseball, unsure of if I’d fail or not, she stuck through it.”

She can sense everyone’s eyes dart over to YN who is still staring up at her husband - who is giving her a gleaming smile right back.

“We’ve been through some really hard obstacles in our first years as a couple but she’s the reason for all this - the fact that she always believed in me when I didn’t believe in myself.”

The audience is respectful, quiet as he publicly tells a story of his deep love for his wife.

“I want t’thank m’three babies. Easton, Cash, and Ezra. They inspire me to be a better better man and a good role model - even though I think y’all agree they won’t be if they watch too much how I play when I’m out in the field.”

The crowd erupts in laughter at Harry poking fun at his own antics that he’s most famous for. He goes on to thank the team, coaches, Nike, everyone on the professional side of career.

When he’s done, everyone stands back up to congratulate him, patting him on the back as he returns to his seat.

Nicole watches as Harry sits back down, chuckling as he swipes a tear off his wife’s cheek, “Why y’crying, mama?”  

“I’m just so proud of you. Everything you do for me and our babies. The best husband, best daddy. My heart is just full,” She murmurs, clearly not meant for others to hear but Nicole was eavesdropping.

Harry’s eyes darken with something Nicole can’t identify but does notice his hand creeping a bit further up her thigh.

He leans into whisper something into her ear before she sees his lightly nip at her lobe before pulling back to join into the conversation.

-

After the lights come back up, Trent abandons her to go shoot the shit with other guys.

When she trails off to the bathroom, down a long hallway from the main area - she hears a rustling from behind a door labeled with a plaque that says ‘executive meeting room’.

Nicole pauses confused, all these offices and other rooms were strictly off limits during events obviously. She was confused to hear someone in a room that was not supposed to be in use.

Then she realizes it’s not just someone - it’s two people.

“S’good, sweetheart. Give it t’me so good.”

And she knows right then and there all she needs to know about who’s in that conference room and what they were doing.

“Be quiet, you’re being too loud,” YN scolds back, the walls were clearly thin because she could hear the exchange.

“Make y’cunt not feel like heaven then,” He remarks back, his voice slower and more soft than it would be in front of people.

God, Trent and her haven’t slept together in ages - let alone has spontaneous hookups or dirty talk like that ever.

When they all end up back at the table before the closing speech for the night, Nicole spots a nicely sized mark under Harry’s jaw that he’s wearing with pride.

YN had her lipstick wiped off and was much more clingy as the night rolled on which Harry seemed to thrive on.

As she and Trent are on their way home, Nicole speaks into their silence, “I don’t think our relationship is working.”

Not after she saw love and happiness at that event table tonight - she wanted that kind of love not settling for some cheating asshole.

-

The Little League Game

It was a cool autumn evening, it was an important game - if you could call it that for the little league team that Kayla had her son on.

The goal was to determine which team would move onto the playoffs, even though most of this was all in good fun because it was for eight-year-olds and it wasn’t serious.

Kayla couldn’t lie and say that she didn’t spend some of the time curiously gazing at the New York Yankees player who would come to watch his son play.

He wasn’t at every game due to his schedule but it seemed like he came to whatever ones he could with his wife and other three kids.

They had taken the bench on the bleachers right below her so she had an up close and personal view of the family when they’ve never sat this close before.

As the kids warmed up, Harry had his youngest son who looked to be about four sit next to him, squished between his dad and mom happily.

Their middle son was next to his mom on the other side, looking to be about six, and he was wriggling impatiently in his seat - eager to join the other kids in the jungle gym.

The baby girl who looked about a year and a half old didn’t look anything like her brothers - it was obvious that she was a spitting image of her mother (who was stunning).

She was curled up in her mom’s lap, asleep with her face squished against her mother’s chest - a pacifier suckling fiercely between her puffy lips.

“Mama, please,” The curly haired boy begs with greedy puppy dog eyes as he keeps glancing back to look at the other kids.

“You stay right where daddy and I can see you, yes?” YN murmurs, brushing back his unruly curls that where getting long, “And what are our rules?”

“Stay where you can see, don’t talk to strangers, and be nice to others,” He recites perfectly, Kayla was a bit blown away by his manners.

She watches baseball. It was hard to believe their children were so mild mannered when their father was the exact opposite - at least on the field.

Harry was rustling in the diaper bag for something as his son looked at him with wide, concerned eyes, “My baby, daddy.”

“I know, Ezzie. M’lookin’ f’your baby,” His father replies softly, the polar extreme of his normal brash, crude language that had a nasty tone like he couldn’t bother giving people the time of day.

“Daddy, please,” The youngest whines, his little hand grasping at his father’s tattooed wrist as he gets to his knees to help his dad look.

“Left inner pocket,” YN murmurs offhandedly as she makes sure Cash gets to the playground safely with his friends.

“Say ‘thanks mama’,” Harry coos to his son as he manages to tug out the baby doll and hand it to the awaiting little boy.

“Thanks mama,” He replies instantly with a gapped smile as he nuzzles right back into his father’s side as if he can’t get close enough.

“How are you feeling, Ezra?” His mother leans over to ask, keeping the baby close to her chest.

“M’happy, mama,” Ezra replies simply before starting to babble to himself as he plays with the babydoll.

Kayla watches Harry and YN swap a fond look at their son but she couldn’t help but wonder why they asked him that? He seemed fine so why did they feel the need to do that?

The game is going okay, Harry stands up to cheer and whistle when Easton hits a two-base hit but YN smacks his thigh and motions to their sleeping baby.

He looks at her sheepishly before sitting back down, kissing her cheek in apology, and peeking down into the fleece blanket to watch his daughter sleep for a moment.

Then it seems like Easton starts to lose momentum after he pitches two home-runs, his face pinched in disappointment as the other team scores but Harry is attempting to keep him motivated with encouraging shouts.

Easton struggles from then on, he strikes out for his final three turns, doesn’t catch two pop-ups, and his pitches start to get a little shaky. It’s obvious in his facial expression he’s getting upset because he’s breathing heavier like he’s trying not to cry.

Kayla feels a sense of dread for the little boy, his father who’s the best baseball player in modern day history is watching his son not do well during an important game.

 Because of what she knows of him from his temper and attitude on the field - she worries that he’s one of those father’s who will hound their kid for doing poorly.

“Oh, c’mon East,” Harry murmurs softly when his son stumbles over a ground ball before another kid picks it up and throws it in - their son smacking his glove down against the ground in frustration.

“He’s getting himself worked up,” YN notes as she watches her oldest kick his cleats in the dirt with a quivering bottom lip.

“I know,” Harry replies to his wife, “Wish he wouldn’t, he’s gettin’ upset out there, I can tell.”

“Sad?” Ezra squeaks, clambering onto his father’s lap and stating, “Hold me, daddy.”

Harry obliges easily, gathering up his small son before his attention is directed back onto the game - it was down to the last few minutes and unfortunately Easton pitched a ball that resulted in a home run for the other team.

“Fuck,” Harry mutters, running a hand through his messy locks before he’s setting Ezra back down on the bleachers, “I’m going to go talk to him. Do you want to meet back home?”

YN nods, leaning down to tuck the baby into the double stroller before buckling Ezra in as well, “I’m going to go get Cash and head out. Why don’t you take him out for some ice cream? I love you.”

“I love you too, mama,” He replies, kissing her softly before kissing both of his kids foreheads and stepping down the bleachers - ignoring all the adults who are staring at him with a starstruck expression as he heads to the dugout.

It cleared out fast, nobody sticking around after the loss that ended with them not continuing on to the championship, and Easton was sat on the bench - he was stoic and there was a hard, angry expression on his face that reminded Kayla of what she saw Harry look like when he played.

As she gathers up her son and makes sure he’s got all of his equipment, Kayla stands and chats to a few of the moms before she’s heading to her car - which happened to be parked next to a sleek Masserati crossover, who would let their muddy kid go in there? Rich people, she guesses.***

Kayla pops the trunk to her van with her key as they get closer, she notices that Harry also has his up and Easton is sitting on the tailgate with his eyes looking down at the pavement. She tries not to appear as nosey or eavesdropping as she tucks her items into the back.

“Sweetheart, s’okay. Y’did so so good tonight,” Harry assures his pouty son, he squats down to start to untie his son’s nike cleats but continues to make eye contact with him. 

“No, I didn’t, Daddy!” Easton whines, tears finally starting to bubble over the surface as he begins to sob with a shuddering chest, “I gave up home runs and then I missed ground balls!”

“Whoa, bubby,” Harry simpers after he tugs off the shoes and throws them carelessly into the back before standing up, “Y’did amazing, are you kiddin’? You did three innings of strikeouts, hit two of y’own homeruns. Y’played like a professional, way better than daddy.”

Kayla’s heart aches a bit when she sees Harry sit down next to him before hugging him harshly into his side, thumbing at the tears that are running down his son’s sweaty cheeks with soft reassurances.

“Daddy, are you mad I didn’t win?” Easton asks shakily, keeping his head buried into his father’s side and his small hand clutching into the fabric of his hoodie.

Harry chuckles lowly, “Daddy would never be mad at you f’anythin’, definitely not a baseball game. Remember what mama and I said? If at any point y’want to stop playin’, just let us know and we can find something else, yeah? Just like how Ezzie does art classes.”

Easton seems to calm down after a few moments of Harry rocking him and reassuring him of what an amazing son he is.

As Kayla drove away that night, her perspective on the all-star baseball player definitely changed. It was refreshing to see someone to not hold their child to an unreasonable expectation just like she thought Harry would.

--

The Campfire

Austin was the shortstop on the baseball team, he’d brought along his girlfriend, Chelsea, to the frat party to celebrate another win.

Everyone was in whispers that Harry was bringing his new girlfriend but nobody knew who she actually was because it was just a rumor.

It was surprising because Harry wasn’t a relationship kind-of man. He wasn’t into hookups much - always said he needed to focus on baseball.

Many of his teammates were envious of how many girls were constantly coming up to Harry at parties to flirt and try to get a dance in but he had always rejected them.

Harry had never showed interest in any of these girls at the parties, never seen him disappear upstairs with one or really entertain a conversation over a beer like they’d expect.

Chelsea pokes his shoulder and nods towards the entrance when Harry walks in with his arm around YN’s shoulder.

Most were in a little shock because they seemed like such an unlikely couple - YN had written some scathing articles about him and it was no secret he hadn’t been a fan of her.

“Holy shit, Harry’s dating YN?” Chelsea whispers to Austin as the group of party-goers cheer and whistle at the allstars appearance.

“Guess so,” Austin replies with a shrug, tugging Chelsea into the kitchen for a drink.

Later on that night, there’s a bonfire on one side of the backyard and a volleyball net on the other where a group was gathering to play.

Austin and Chelsea are on the opposing team of Harry and YN - she can’t help but watch them with curiosity because of what a surprise it is that they’re dating.

Even Austin has been watching because Harry’s acting in a way that he’s never seen throughout his time on the team with him.

Harry is just all over YN which was confusing how he went from not being remotely interested in the college girls to being a lovestruck puppy.

When she throws the ball up to serve, Harry reaches over and pinches her bum which makes her squeak and accidentally drop the ball which has him cackling as she glares at him.

As they change positions, he crowds up behind her, and massages her hips, leaning down to murmuring something in her ear.

She blushes wildly before smacking him off which has him laughing hard and kissing the back of her head before taking his position.

After Harry jumps and spikes the ball hard, earning them the winning point, YN turns around and wraps her arms around him to hug him tightly.

Harry wraps his arms around her shoulders, returning the hug before pulling back to kiss her lips in a soft peck.

Chelsea elbows Austin, “Who’s that and what did they do with Harry?”

Austin shakes his head, “I really don’t fucking know.”

The group migrates over to the fire as they might become cooler and the stars are high up in the sky, the fire flickering orange and yellow crackles of sparks.

Harry plops into a chair, pulling YN right onto his lap, and she wriggles until she’s comfortable. Chelsea notices him tap her thigh as if telling her to cut it out, too much motion right on his crotch.

Jake, one of his teammates, says in a teasing tone, “YN, I’m surprised to see you around these parts . I clearly remember a strongly worded article about how stupid frat parties are.”

YN takes it in stride, smiling as she replies, “And this party just proves my point.”

The group laughs easily, they enjoy YN’s sharp wit and comebacks as they get to know her. Austin can’t help but to notice how quiet Harry is.

Normally, he’s the life of the party, loud and making his presence known to everyone but not tonight. He has his chin propped on her shoulder and she’s cuddled back into his chest.

Austin can’t make out what Harry is saying but he’s constantly whispering in her ear and accentuating each time with a squeeze to her thighs.

“Are you guys official?” One of the teammates asked bluntly, a few beers deep by this point in the night.

Harry replies instantly, a possessive squeeze, “She’s mine and off the market, s’don’t even think about it.”

“Well I don’t think it matters because she’s turned down the whole baseball team by this point. I think everyone tried to ask her out at least once,” Steve jokes as the others agree.

“Tha’s m’girl,” Harry murmurs to her before teasing his friends,“Who’d want to go out with any you? You’re all dickheads.”

Everyone continues to joke around, it’s nearing midnight and that’s right about when Harry gets in his prime - like the party just started.

But not tonight.

YN’s eyes start to flutter shut as everyone banters and drinks around the fire, obviously not used to these late night parties.

“I better get this one t’bed,” Harry states after a few minutes, thumbing at YN’s cheekbone as she tries to stay awake.

“I’m okay,” She mumbles weakly, head still heavy against his shoulder.

“You’re coming back though, right?” Kyle asks expectantly, brows furrowed.

Harry shakes his head, “Nah, m’in for the night when she is.”

All the players look at him with a bit of a dumbfounded look, Steve shooting out, “Who knew you’d be so pussy whipped, Styles?”

Chelsea’s eyebrows raise at the crude comment, waiting with bated breath as Harry’s jaw clenches as it seems like he’s biting his tongue.

“Goodnight,” Harry says in a tone Austin has never heard before - agitated and almost…offended.

When Austin and Chelsea are sneaking up to his room for a late night hook-up, she overhears Harry and YN in his bedroom.

At first, she thinks they’re in an actual argument but as she listens to them - it’s not the kind of arguement she thought it was.

“You’re always the little spoon,” YN groans from behind the closed door.

Harry squawks, affronted before huffing back at her, “S’my favorite, please spoon me, darling?”

“You’re so fucking spoiled,” YN giggles as Chelsea assumes they move into a position where Harry’s the little spoon.

“Mm, I like feelin’ y’tits against my back, s’nice,” Harry hums with a boyish tone.

Chelsea doesn’t even realize she’s smiling until Austin drags her from her stupor. 

All she knew was that Harry Styles really really fancied that school reporter.

-=-=-=-=-=-

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[matsunosan]

Do you write for dom reader? I was thinking of older dom reader surprising ran with a lingerie that matches his eye color perfect.

Not exactly old just older than ran by a few years 😗

LILAC LACE - RAN HAITANI X READER

A/N: I am LIVING for all the Ran content. Keep the Ran requests coming PLEASE. Also sorry it took so long, I have been so busy ahiwhwfowfiwoefn

Prompt: dom!reader x sub!ran

Summary: You and Ran were supposed to go on a date in order to spend some quality time together. However, you were consumed by your workload. How will he get you to relax?

WARNINGS: NSFW, pet names, dom/sub, literally smut once again

Word Count: 1,498

          Frustration bubbled within you as you sat hunched over your desk, shoulders caving in as you typed away at your computer. The bright screen hurt your eyes after hours of working, trying your best to finish in time for the date that you had planned with your fiance, Ran. “Hey sweetheart,” you heard Ran as he peaked his head through the door of your office.  “How are things going?” “It’s-” you paused, feeling your heart sink with guilt. “It’s going.” For weeks, Ran has planned a dinner reservation for tonight at your favorite restaurant. After wasting your days working endlessly, tonight was meant to be dedicated to your quality time. However, judging by your knitted brows and trembling legs, that wasn’t going to be the case. “I’ll be done soon,” you filled the silence with your strained voice. “I’m sorry it’s taking longer than I had anticipated.” “No worries,” Ran smiled, walking over to you and placing a kiss on your temple before making his exit. “I love you.” “I love you too,” you responded, eyes never leaving the computer screen. 

         Ran could see it coming from a mile away- the two of you were never going to make your reservation in time. He understood though, after being a Bonten executive for years, he knew how quickly work could pile up on someone. Ran canceled the reservation, despite having already put on his suit and tie, choosing to let you work and rest for the evening while he conjured up other ideas to help you relax. You were lost in your work, he could tell by the way your foot bounced up and down anxiously and the way your hands fisted in your hair. How could he help drag you away? The question crossed his mind as he thought of ways to relieve some stress. He could cook you a nice dinner, braid your hair, give you a back massage- wait. Ran knew exactly what to do. 

          Your fingers tapped rapidly on the keyboard, desperate to finish your thought before your tired mind ended up forgetting it. While typing, Ran snuck into the room without your knowledge, startling you when his hands gripped your shoulders. “R-Ran?” your head whipped around, looking at the snickering man. “What are you doing?” “Shhh,” he hushed you. “Keep working. I’m giving you a massage to help you relax.” You looked at him quizzically, trying to figure out what he was up to. “You don’t have to do that,” you returned your eyes to your work, sighing a bit as his thumbs drew deep circles into the taut muscle. “Sounds like I do,” he cooed in your ear. You clicked your tongue, getting back to work while he continued to knead at your shoulders. 

        Ran worked on your upper back for a while before he started to feel bored. He let his hands trail down a little further, grazing over sensitive spots. Your focus on work began to dwindle with every movement of his dainty fingers, your mind thinking about his hands on your bare skin instead of the seemingly innocent touches. It was starting to drive you wild, the need to have him right then and there growing rapidly. “Ran.” you said his name sternly, jerking forwards to get rid of his touch. “You’re being a distraction.” Ran simply smiled, leaning and returning his palms. “I’m sorry dear,” he whispered, his lips grazing against the shell of your ear. “Can you tell me what it is that I am doing that is distracting you?” Before you could even respond, Ran began trailing kisses where your neck met your shoulder. You let out a shaky exhale, leaning into his arms as they wrapped around you. “You’re such a fucking tease,” you breathed, ashamed of the heat that had already pooled between your thighs. “You’re just begging to be punished aren’t you?” Ran hummed in delight, reaching an arm around to playfully squeeze your chest. You gasped, grabbing his wrist and spinning the chair around. “You better watch yourself Ran,” you seethed, placing your heel on his rock-hard cock. “Do you have some kind of death wish?” Ran shook his head, kneeling down and pushing your pant leg up to kiss up your calf. “That’s more like it,” you grinned, slowly unbuttoning your blouse. 

         Had plans not changed, your secret wouldn’t have been revealed until later. Though, with Ran’s persistent behavior, you could no longer deny the burning sensation in your core. Your secret consisted of a lilac lace teddy underneath your work clothes, the pale purple identical to Ran’s orbs. Its floral pattern was gorgeous, the fabric hugging your curves deliciously. Ran’s eyes trailed up your form, his eyes locking onto the teddy. “Baby,” he practically moaned, hands reaching up to rip your clothes off. You were quick to catch him, holding his hands as he whined. “Brats don’t get what they want,” you scowled, standing up and pulling him by his neck tie. Ran gulped, watching you as you undid his tie, soon wrapping the silk around his eyes. “If you’re good,” you suggested, tying the knot and completely blinding him. “Then you will have your reward. Now, stand up.” Ran did as he was told, standing up slowly. Your hands brushed his suit jacket off, the pads of your fingers popping each button on his dress shirt. “Look at my beautiful baby,” your voice sounded like honey to him. It was so sweet, yet your intentions with him were not.

          “Was this your plan all along?” you quipped, already having Ran half undressed. “Were you just going to toy with me until you got what you wanted?” “No ma’am,” Ran smirked, knowing how you felt about being addressed as such. “I was just trying to help you relax- ah!” His words were cut off when you yanked his belt, undoing it hastily and pushing his pants and briefs down at the same time. He stumbled forward, but was quick to regain his posture. “Do you not have any shame?” you hissed, leaving him to stand there naked. You knew how much Ran hated waiting, especially in such a vulnerable position. So, you slid your heels off and sat back down in the office chair, waiting a few moments until you were satisfied by his begs and pleads. “Please do something,” Ran whimpered. “I need you.” You overlooked his figure, eyes tracing the patterns of his tattoos while thinking of ways to punish him. “What is it that you need?” you asked him, already knowing the answer. “I need your t-touch,” Ran responded quickly, his patience becoming obviously thin. “You can touch yourself can’t you?” you retorted. “I want to see you jerk yourself off, baby.” Ran took in a deep breath, unsatisfied with your answer but he knew he was at the point of no return. “May I?” he asked softly. You hummed in response. 

         Ran’s hand gently grabbed the base of his shaft, his body shivering when he began to pump loosely around his hard cock. You loved watching him slowly fall apart in front of you like this, the flex of his arm when he tightened his grip was appetizing. Ran let out a moan when his thumb swiped along the tip, rubbing precum along the smooth skin. Your hands began removing your own clothing, letting each piece fall to the ground as Ran called your name. “You’re doing so good baby,” you reassured him, settling back in your chair once you only wore the lilac teddy. “But don’t cum.” You could hear the faint whimper he let out at those words, knowing he wanted nothing more than to spew his seed everywhere. But, you would never give him such pleasure. Your fingers traced light circles on your clothed heat, heart pounding in your chest as Ran picked up the pace. “Fuck,” he breathed, head thrown back as his groans filled the room. “Please give me anything. Please.” For a second you thought Ran might cry by the way his lip quivered, but you weren’t going to let your guard down that easily. “You should have thought about that,” you mused, trying your best to cover up the fact that you were touching yourself. “I promise I’ll be good,” Ran continued, picking up the pace. “I’ll do a-anything.” His hips started to thrust up, meeting the pace of his fist. You could tell he was close by the way his toes curled and his pumps became erratic. “Stop.” you commanded, a wide grin sprawled across your face when Ran let out a cry. His hands hung by his sides, chest heaving up and down at the loss of his orgasm. “On your knees,” you gave another order. Ran practically fell to his knees, angry red tip brushing against his abdomen. “Bad boys don’t get to come first,” you scolded, standing up and kneeling before him. “You’re going to eat me out like it’s your last fucking meal.”

“Yes ma’am.”

A/N: let me know if we need a part 2...