#warm little rascal

[skrunksthatwunk]

guhhh it's so hot in here

[drawotion]

This is Remu, our sweet pup who was put to sleep today, 8th of April 2024... The procedure went smoothly, he almost got to the age of full 11 years. This summer it would have been his 11th birthday.

In memory of him, let me tell you about how our little rascal was like. This is going to be a long post so buckle up. I'll put more pics in at the end.

He was a rescue dog, he came to me and my mom through my oldest big brother around year 2018. He was around 5 years old back then and he was born during summer, what I heard from my brother is that the pup was super skinny when he first got Remu.

Remu was an absolute lap dog, he loved being on our laps and in our holds. Loved sleeping next to us. ((He was like little heater! Very warm hahahh)) Sometimes when we would do stuff around the house he had to be with us on the thing!

For example if I was sitting on the floor and moving plants to new pots or I was cleaning my pet bugs little habitats, it was guaranteed he would be on my lap. And he would always be listening what we're doing.

Oh he was one stubborn and clever fella, there is a reason why I call him a rascal! Of course in the most loving way possible. He was like a big dog in small dog's body. His barks were LOUD.

He wasn't that trusting at first and god forbid if you touched his paws and tried to bath him, or even reached out to him in certain way! Face was off limits. So it was heartwarming how over time he came to trust me. So much so I could do almost anything with him, it got to the point where he let me even rub my finger between his eyes and wipe his cute little snoot if there was something.

Oh any visitor would still get bunch of barks and growls! Never biting tho, but he would let you know that hey, this is his turf! His home! Would even start barking even if he heard my younger old brother through phone. (He still got onto brother's lap and all, pfft) It was kind of silly to see how little mohawk would rise on his back.

Like a true summer dog, he loved basking under the warm & hot sun. I think his belly even got tanned because of this. (Oh Remu, you silly.)

And goodness did he love to run when able to during our walks.

Gosh, let me tell you, whenever he would greet another dog his ears got so high up it looked like he had bunny ears! Adorable.

And his adorable little hop running when inside... It's a shame I never got it on video, but it was silly fun and cute thing he did.

Oh he would do this thing though where he would whine and paw at bed/floor as if he wouldn't be able to get off our beds! (mattresses on the floor btw.) He was fully capable of getting off and all, he just decided to turn dramatic if we were observing him.

Another dramatic thing he did was flip over a bowl when asking for food. Even start rolling up the blanket on his own bed and oh, so vocal. He was a vocal pup.

He never seemed that interested in toys, only playing with them when we prompted him and played with him with them. Eventually his favorite type of play would turn out to be chasing hand under the blanket and and also digging at our blankets while I scratch his head.

Hahh, he sometimes would playfully try to get at our feet, mostly during feeding time. Such a silly pupper.

All in all, he was a lovable silly rascal and one heck of a cuddly dog.

I'll forever miss him, and I am happy he was in our lives, even if I was hesitant to take him in at first. I am so thankful I was able to be there with him and for him on his last moments, when I wasn't able to for our previous pet so many years ago.

Now... May you run a lot, buddy. Run lots and lots… To your heart's content. Get all the treats you so love, till your belly is full.

I love you, Remu.

[symbolishplant]

Well. will my workplace injury be compensated if it was that I sprained my ankle gallivanting around on the preschool playground playing tag with children

[yoshistory]

& Also according to what was registered to his chip today is Rascal's birthday so I gave him special type of churu treat and extra treats today and played with him extra . . . Happy 10yrs birthday big guy . . . 🎂

[sunni-stuff]

Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6

Reader who gets pregnant off of a one night stand with some soldier during armed forces day, showing your appreciation for his service a little too well.

You had a support system, friends who joked about you having way too much fun, hence your predicament, others already offering to buy things for the baby and your parents who couldn't be happier to meet their grandchild.

But what about the father?

Well, it's not exactly like you could track him down. Fuck, you didn't even know the man's name, only how he made you feel, his filthy words strumming in your ear, big hands tight around your waist, hips slamming away in a desperate chase.

Let's forget how you leg-locked him.

When your daughter was born, everything changed, and time slowed down. She was a quiet baby, barely crying or having any outbursts like a normal child would but outspoken in her own little way. That chunky thing came out of the womb with a glare. Brown eyes staring down anyone and everyone but you.

That's something she definitely got from her father. You vividly remember how his umber eyes watching you from across the bar. He was like an eagle waiting for the perfect moment to strike his prey. A perfect soldier.

So, you named your daughter Adira in memory of his strength. That's one thing he could have.

Adira loved to be by your side. Her chubby cheeks pressed into the nook of your neck, holding you close with strength of a thousand babies. Your clingy little thing was a koala, always by her mommy's side, never straying far no matter how curious she got. When she learned to walk, her favorite thing became to hug your leg, especially while in stores. She hated people, wearing a tiny scowl whenever customers passed by tucking herself closer to you.

Maybe it was a good thing her father wasn't around. Having to compete for her first words would've been a bloodbath.

You spent two years in bliss. The fact that you were a single mother an afterthought to raising what you considered a blessing.

With Adira's second Christmas coming up, you wanted to do something special. She loved trains and found them absolutely amusing, often mimicking the honk as she ran around your apartment. Thankfully, there was a train ride for kids around the park during this time of year.

Here, you stood in line, bundled up to the nines. Big poofy coat, warm gloves, and fuzzy boots. As the crowd moved, Adira clung close, arms wrapped around your leg, glowering at any passerby with an annoyed look on her rosy cheeks.

That one was new. Maybe something else she got from her father.

The two of you took steps in tow, keeping Adira close and comfortable as the train came into view. Her expression shifted, excitement palpable. "Twain!" She squealed, jumping up and down.

Before you could respond to Adira's childlike joy, a man bumped into you by accident, nearly stumbling over his own feet. He turns to look at you, blue eyes meeting yours, but you were too focused on the weird ass Mohawk on his head.

People wore still those?

"Sorry bout that lass." The man starts to apologize, a Scottish accent lacing his voice.

That breaks your stare, laughing awkwardly to mask your wandering gaze. "Oh no, it's fine. You should be careful. you might slip on ice."

He nods, giving you a kind smile. The Scottish man starts to leave, but the look your kid was giving him sent shivers down his spine.

Little Adira was giving him a fierce stare down from behind your leg before ultimately cutting her eyes at him as if he were merely a nuisance.

"Next in line! Mctavish!"

The man doesn't stay after that. You assume that it was him they were calling with the way he hurried off. Hope he doesn't fall, seemed like a nice guy.

Soap can't help but do a double take when be gets to the front. The little rascal was wearing his Lieutenants face, hawk eyeing anyone who dared got to close. It was like looking in a mirror.

He nudged Gaz, making a gesture to look back without making it obvious. "See the lass and her bairn in line?"

Gaz gives him a raised brow, looking back for a second before turning around. "There's a lot of kids with their mother's, Johnny."

Soap glances back, double checking to make sure you were still in line. “The lass with the wee one—she’s got the same wicked look as Lt. You cannae miss her.”

Gaz rolls his eyes but humors Soap by looking once more, his eyes scanning the crowd until they land on a little girl already mean-mugging him from a distance. He swiftly turns around, blinking in surprise, trying to comprehend what he saw. "Uh..."

Soap only nods in agreement. That was Ghost's face, on a kid no less. He wastes no time, elbowing Roach and getting him to look back as well, leaving the other Sergeant in the same shock as Gaz. "That is not a face a kid should have."

"Agreed." Gaz added, shuddering at the thought.

"Where's the cap?" Soap asks, the train ride no longer feeling like fun now that he’s discovered the jackpot.

"Market place with Lt. for cigs," Gaz knowingly remarked, remembering that Price had run out on their way here.

"Well, let's go show them a Christmas miracle," Soap shot up from his seat all too eagerly.

The sergeants just got their Christmas present.

[cybersunnie]

the look of love | collection

01 RAFE CAMERON meets the new art teacher.

includes fem!teacher!reader / uncle!rafe / reader goes by "miss sugar" / fluff / grumpy x sunshine / family dynamics / safe to read! / wc 1.5k

Sarah already had her own family. Two rascals, Jackson and Josie. Meanwhile, Rafe didn’t. He had no kids. Nada. Zero. And he planned to keep it that way for a while.

As much as he loved his niece and nephew, they depleted his desire to have any. They were both rowdy and talkative and an awful lot like their parents. 

It scared him. 

He didn’t need more John B’s and Sarah’s walking the earth. Those little devils.

And yet, he was on his way to pick them up from school.

He never had to before. It was typically JJ, Kie, or anyone who wasn’t him. But apparently, the Pogues were more swamped than usual and had a ‘customer issue’ at their little Surf Shop. Whatever that meant.

Safe to say, Rafe wasn’t too thrilled about it. He was a busy man—the CEO of Cameron Development, to be exact. Children didn’t fit in his schedule. At least, that was what he told himself on the lonelier, quieter days. But family was family, as his dad always said. So, when his sister had called him, pleading, he reluctantly agreed. 

When he pulled into the pick-up zone, driving along the curb, he spotted his niece and nephew. They were hard to miss, not only because they were the only kids in front of the school, but because of the woman accompanying them. You. 

With the sweetest smile Rafe had ever seen, you stood between them, hands clasped behind your back, your eyes darting between the two children as they talked over each other. 

Rafe stopped in front of them and rolled the windows down. The youngest of the two, Josie, was the first to notice. 

An exaggeratedly loud gasp left her lips, her eyes wide. “Uncle Rafe!” 

That set off a chain reaction. 

Jackson looked up, his brows furrowed. “Uncle Rafe?” 

Rafe didn’t know if he should feel offended.

Then, your gaze shifted away from the kids, meeting his eyes through the passenger window. Time slowed. He saw your smile soften, and you waved at him. His heart lurched out of his chest, the feeling foreign and borderline uncomfortable. 

What the fuck?

But he didn’t have time to dwell on the feeling as his niece and nephew rushed towards his car.

“Uncle, uncle, uncle,” Josie chanted, panting like she ran a mile. “You’re pickin’ us up?”

Jackson stared at him with narrowed eyes. “You never pick us up.” 

Damn, what was this kid’s problem?

“Yes, Josie. And, well, they’re busy at the Surf Shop,” Rafe sighed, unlocking the car doors to let them in. “So, you guys got me for today.”

Through the rearview mirror, he watched the children clamber into the vehicle, feet kicking and hands flying as they argued about trivial matters—I always sit on the left side! So? I got in first. You’re being a butthead! I’m telling mommy you called me a butthead!—and so on. He chuckled, his lips curving into a grin.

Suddenly, you spoke, “They’re special, huh?” 

Your voice was warm and inviting. He didn’t know a person could sound so lovely.

When Rafe looked at you, he forgot how to speak. Every word he knew? Gone. And you barely did anything. You were just standing before the passenger door, staring back at him. He couldn’t help but notice the smudge of orange paint on the bridge of your nose. 

“Yeah, definitely,” he ultimately said, nodding.

You extended your right hand out to him through the open window. He saw more dried paint on your fingertips. “I’m Miss Sugar, the new art teacher here.”

Ah, that explained it. 

“Rafe.” He shook your hand, his eyes locked on your face. Your hand felt soft but far from fragile. “Rafe Cameron.”

“It’s so nice to meet you,” you beamed.

Did you ever stop smiling? Your cheeks should be hurting at this rate. 

He nodded, letting go of your hand before he looked like a creep. “Pleasure’s all mine.”

“Oh, Uncle Rafe,” Josie called, rummaging through her backpack, “me and Jackson made a paper chain thingy with Miss Sugar! Look, this one’s you!” 

He turned his head, eyes squinting at the paper doll chain she held up. Josie explained they made it during the after-school program, where she and Jackson spent a few extra hours each day. There were nine cut-out paper dolls, with what he assumed to be Josie at the start and him at the end. It was rough around the edges, but what did Rafe expect from a five-year-old? And the longer he stared at it, Rafe figured he was a last-minute addition, his hand glued to Sarah’s doll, the paper there wrinkled. 

From the corner of his eye, he saw you tilt your head into his car, looking at the kids. You seemed proud. It made him wonder what it felt like to have someone be proud of him.

“That’s really nice.” Rafe looked at his niece, who grinned brightly at his praise. He then stared at the frowny face drawn on his doll. “Why’s everyone smiling except for me?”

“Because you’re always grumpy,” Jackson replied bluntly. 

Little Josie slapped a hand over her mouth and erupted in giggles. Of course, his nephew was the one behind it.

Seriously, did this kid have a vendetta against him?

“Okay, you—” Rafe caught sight of your amused expression, and he bit back his words, “—I’m not always grumpy.”

You tried to cover up your laugh with a cough. “Yeah, he doesn’t look grumpy right now,” you defended, though it was far from convincing. Then you shot him a wink, and the gears in his mind stuttered and fell apart. Were you flirting with him? Or was it more of an ‘I got your back’ sort of wink? 

Fuck, why did he even care? He needed to pull himself together. 

“Anyways, I have to get back now,” you sighed, and the kids protested almost immediately. He saw a frown tug on your features, and you moved to the backseat window, cooing a mix of ‘I know’ and ‘I wish I could stay longer’ that eased their complaints. Eventually, you moved to the passenger window again, telling him a sweet, “Get home safe.”

Rafe felt himself having to fight back a smile. “Thanks.” 

You pursed your lips, your fingers tapping the window seal. “Don’t be a stranger, Rafe Cameron,” you said, stepping back from his car.

Jackson and Josie shouted their goodbyes to you before he could respond, but your words rang in his ears. Don’t be a stranger. He watched you wave to him and the kids before turning on your heel, your long skirt dancing around your legs as you made your way to the school’s entrance. Once you disappeared behind the door, he eased off the brake and pulled out of the pick-up zone.

As Rafe drove the kids home, the wind whipped through the open windows, the music on the stereo hummed softly, and his niece and nephew whispered to each other in the backseat. What about? He didn’t know, nor did he want to know. But he suspected they were up to no good. 

Josie cleared her throat with an over-the-top ahem, ahem! “Uncle Rafe?”

“What?”

She didn’t waste another second. “What you think of Miss Sugar?”

Rafe stared hard at the road. He had many thoughts about you: beautiful, messy, stunning, smiled too much, gorgeous. 

“Uh, she seems nice,” he answered, glancing at her through the rearview mirror. “Why?”

“Just wondering!” Josie chirped.

Silence fell between them.

He thought that would be it, and then he heard more whispering. Dread flooded his body. Rafe tweaked the stereo volume higher. They hadn’t caught that you piqued his interest, right? No, that would be ridiculous. They were kids. They would be none the wiser.

At least, he thought so until his niece asked, “Do you think she’s pretty?”

No wonder the Pogues called her Nosy Josie. It all made sense now. And, of course, he thought you were pretty. Who wouldn’t?

Rafe sucked in a breath, scratching his brow. “I’m not answerin’ that.”

Jackson grumbled, “I told you, Josie.” 

“You didn’t!” 

And a new argument ensued. But for once, Rafe was content listening to their high-pitched shouts because that meant the attention was off him. He didn’t want to be pestered about you any further. If Josie had kept pushing, he feared he would be sent down a rabbit hole, you consuming his thoughts.

But maybe he had already fallen down the rabbit hole. He was just too busy denying it.

Soon, Rafe arrived at their home, and the kids hopped out of his car and ran to their parents. Sarah thanked him for picking them up as John B took them inside—Josie sat on his hip, with Jackson walking beside him. He brushed it off, even offering to pick them up from school more often. His sister looked surprised and a little skeptical, but she didn’t question his change of heart. 

While Rafe Cameron didn’t have time for children, he could make time for you.

sunnie speaks! i realized miss sugar is barely in this WHOOPS!!! but i hope you guys found his dynamic w jackson and josie fun, haha! i sure had a fun time writing it :D let's chat about rafe cameron / teacher!reader

if you like my work, consider following @sunniefics to stay up to date on all my future fics!

[baelarys]

𝙎𝙬𝙚𝙚𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙖𝙧𝙩

Aemond targaryen x Reader wife Velaryon

Word count: 3184

Warning: fluffy, Pregnancy.

Pt1 pt3 pt4

Autumn had arrived, bringing with it a cold wind that foretold the imminent arrival of winter. You felt the icy breeze cut through your cloak, forcing you to pull it tighter around your body. Unlike your previous two pregnancies, this one seemed to demand more of you; the weight of the life you carried within was beginning to take its toll. Your back constantly ached, your breasts were tense and sensitive, and your swollen feet barely supported the weight you had to bear.

As you walked through the castle halls, lost in thought, a sudden impact made you stagger. You barely had time to place a hand against the wall to avoid falling. As you looked down, you found Aerion on the ground, his small face lit up by a mischievous smile as he giggled. He quickly got to his feet, energetically brushing off his trousers, unconcerned by the slight reprimand he heard in the distance.

The septa approached hurriedly, a frown on her face and a look of evident disapproval. Her voice echoed through the hall as she called out to Aerion, but before she could reach him, the little prince ran toward you, clinging to your skirt for protection.

“Princess,” the septa greeted, bowing as she saw you. “The maester has insisted that you should return to your bed. Rest is the best thing for you in your condition.” Her stern gaze scrutinized the hallway, searching for the little prince who was now hiding behind you.

“That was just what I was thinking of doing,” you replied calmly, hearing Aerion’s faint laughter as he clung to your skirts.

You watched as the septa walked away down the hall, still calling out to the prince with a mix of patience and firmness. When the septa's figure disappeared from your sight, you slowly turned to Aerion. The boy looked up at you, his cheeks flushed red, still trying to contain the laughter that threatened to spill over.

You couldn’t help but smile at your son’s innocent mischief. Despite the worries weighing on you, Aerion’s joy had the power to dispel any cloud hanging over your day.

“You’re a little rascal,” you said softly, as you gently stroked his head. “But you need to be more careful, you almost made me fall.”

Aerion nodded, and his smile lit up his face, revealing that perfect blend of innocence and mischief that you loved so much in him. Still chuckling softly, he took your hand with his small fingers, his laughter fading into a sigh of contentment.

“I want to stay with you, mama,” he said softly, looking up at you with pleading eyes.

His words filled you with a warm tenderness. You knew you needed to rest, but your son’s desire to stay by your side was a request you could hardly refuse. His company, so sincere and selfless, was a comfort amidst the demanding burden you carried.

You bent down slightly to meet his eyes, looking at him with a maternal smile.

"You can stay with me for a while, but only if you promise to be quiet and let Mama rest," you whispered.

Aerion nodded enthusiastically, squeezing your hand more tightly, as if his desire to be with you was enough to protect you from any discomfort or pain. As you walked together toward your chambers, Aerion began to talk with the spontaneity of childhood, telling you about his lessons and how much they bored him. His voice, full of innocent complaints, filled the hallway.

As you closed the doors of your room behind you, you created a small refuge of tranquility, a space where you could allow yourself a respite from the worries that surrounded you. Aerion, freed from the need to stay calm, released your hand and ran excitedly to the corner where the steaming dragon egg rested on its cradle of metal and glowing stones.

However, a sudden, sharp pain shot through your body, pulling you out of the peaceful moment. The pain radiated from your back to your belly, forcing you to instinctively place your hands on your swollen abdomen in a protective gesture. Reality hit hard when you felt a warm, wet burst, and in that moment, the world seemed to stop.

The sound of your water breaking echoed in the room, like a prolonged reverberation in the silence, as the liquid spilled onto the floor, soaking the ground beneath your feet. An indescribable chill ran down your spine, as if in that precise instant, your soul had tried to leave your body, leaving you momentarily paralyzed.

Aerion, unaware of what had just happened, continued admiring the egg while you tried to gather the strength to stay calm. You took a deep breath, forcing yourself to focus on what you needed to do. You knew there was no time to waste; the birth was imminent.

"Aerion, come here," you called, keeping your voice firm yet gentle, not wanting to alarm him.

Your son turned his head toward you, sensing something unusual in your tone. The joy on his face faded, replaced by concern.

"Mama, what's wrong?" he asked as he walked toward you with small, cautious steps.

"I need you to find the septa and the maester, quickly," you said, caressing his cheek with a trembling hand. "The baby is ready to be born."

With effort, you began to walk slowly toward your bed, each step accompanied by the increasing pain that was becoming more insistent. When you reached the bed, you took a deep breath and called for your ladies, who, upon hearing the urgency in your voice, quickly came to your side. Without wasting a moment, they moved with the precision and skill that only experience could grant, helping you lie down and preparing you for childbirth.

Their hands worked carefully and swiftly, untying the laces and buttons of your dress, changing you into more comfortable garments that would ease the birth. Despite the storm of pain threatening to strip away your calm, their gestures were comforting.

"Take deep breaths, Princess," one of the ladies whispered as she helped you settle into the bed, her voice an anchor of calm amidst the whirlwind of sensations overwhelming you.

The doors to your room burst open, and the maester entered, followed by several midwives, all moving with the speed and efficiency the situation demanded. Aerion, his face full of concern, ran to you, taking your hand in a gesture of support.

"It seems the baby has decided to come early," the maester remarked as the midwives began preparing everything necessary for the birth.

One of the midwives approached with more pillows to support your back, lifting you carefully to relieve the pressure on your belly. But the movement triggered a new wave of pain, and before you could stop it, a cry escaped your lips.

Aerion reacted immediately, his protective instinct awakened by seeing your suffering. He lunged toward the midwife, trying to push her away with his small hand.

"You're hurting her!" he exclaimed, his voice trembling, his eyes filling with tears as he tried to come between you and the midwife.

The midwife, surprised by the child's reaction, paused and looked at you with a mix of respect and concern.

"Calm down, little prince," the midwife said softly, kneeling down to be at Aerion's eye level. "We don't want to hurt your mama. We're only trying to help her feel better."

"Aerion, sweetheart, everything is okay. They’re here to help us," you assured him, trying to calm his agitation.

The contractions came in waves, each one more intense than the last, leaving a trail of pain that spread through your entire body. You gripped the sheets tightly, your knuckles turning white under the tension as you fought to contain the screams of pain threatening to escape your throat. You didn’t want to scare Aerion, who stayed by your side, his small hand clutching yours.

Suddenly, in the midst of the chaos raging in your mind, a familiar voice broke through the torment.

“Y/N,” you heard Aemond call your name.

The sound of his voice was like a balm, a wave of relief that momentarily dispelled the pain. You turned your head, and seeing him, you felt something inside you calm down. Aemond, with an expression of concern tinged with love, quickly approached your side, taking your other hand with the security and firmness you had always known in him.

“I’m here,” he said softly, his eyes locked on yours as his thumb gently caressed your cheek.

Aemond leaned in a little closer, his voice low and reassuring.

“Everything will be alright, my love. I’m here with you.”

You nodded with gratitude, thankful for Aemond’s comforting presence by your side. With each passing contraction, the pain seemed to stretch out in time, as if the hours were elongating into an endless trial. However, the maester, in his firm yet encouraging tone, finally spoke the words you had been waiting for.

“It’s time to push, Princess.”

Those words were both a relief and a new source of fear. You knew the hardest moment was yet to come, and although Aemond had been your constant support, you understood that Aerion’s presence in the room might complicate the situation even further. You needed everything to go well, both for the baby about to be born and for the child who was already the center of your world.

Taking a breath with difficulty, you turned your head toward Aemond, your eyes reflecting the mix of emotions you felt at that moment.

“Aemond,” you whispered, your voice laden with effort, “please take Aerion outside. He needs to stay calm… and so do you.”

Although it was evident he didn’t want to leave you, Aemond understood your concern. With a look that spoke of his desire to stay with you, he leaned in close, brushing your lips with a gentle kiss.

“I’ll be right outside,” he murmured, his words an anchor for your spirit. “I’ll come back as soon as I can.”

With one last squeeze of your hand, he stood up and turned his attention to Aerion, who was still watching the scene with wide, worried eyes. Aemond walked over to his son and took his hand.

“Come, Aerion. Let’s wait outside for a moment,” he said gently.

Aerion hesitated, his eyes searching yours for confirmation. You forced a smile, despite the pain, and nodded, trying to convey confidence.

“Everything will be alright, sweetheart,” you assured him. “We’ll be together again soon.”

The little one, though still concerned, finally agreed, taking his father’s hand as they both headed toward the door. Aemond gave you one last look before leaving.

Once the door closed behind them, the atmosphere in the room changed. The seriousness and focus intensified as the midwives and the maester prepared for the birth. You felt a mix of emotions—fear, anticipation, and a deep determination—all fighting for control of your mind.

The maester leaned in toward you, with a calm expression that contrasted with the intensity of the moment.

“Princess, it’s time,” he said softly, his tone firm yet reassuring. “I need you to push with all your strength.”

You nodded, mentally preparing yourself for what you knew would be the greatest effort of your life. The pain, which had been constant, became even sharper, cutting through your breath as you struggled to follow the maester’s instructions. Your hands gripped the sheets, your muscles tensing in a supreme effort as you pushed with all your being.

The midwives, with quick and precise movements, offered you words of encouragement, their hands working diligently to assist you. You could feel the sweat beading on your forehead, every fiber of your being concentrated on bringing this new life into the world. The minutes stretched on in a succession of contractions and efforts, each more intense than the last, pushing you to the limits of your endurance.

The room, though filled with activity, became a closed and private space, where time seemed to distort. The maester guided you, his words calm and measured, while the midwives supported you, adjusting the pillows and keeping you as comfortable as possible. Finally, after what felt like an eternity of pain and effort, the maester announced that he could see the baby's head.

"One more time, princess, just one more time," he encouraged, his voice filled with contained emotion.

With the little energy you had left, you gathered all your strength and pushed with fierce determination. The pain reached a climax, enveloping you in a whirlwind of sensations until, suddenly, you felt an indescribable relief as the weight you had carried for months finally left your body.

A moment of silence fell over the room, followed by the most beautiful sound you could have imagined: the strong, clear cry of your newborn. Tears filled your eyes as you heard that first sign of life, and the midwives quickly wrapped the baby in warm blankets, bringing him close to you.

"You have been very brave, princess. You have brought a new Targaryen into the world."

With trembling hands and a pounding heart, you took your child into your arms. As you felt his warmth against your chest, all the pain and fatigue faded away, replaced by a love so intense you could hardly contain it. You looked at your baby's face, his soft hair and delicate skin, and in that moment, you knew that every second of effort had been worth it.

Your ladies, discreet and efficient, quickly restored order to the room. They swiftly cleaned the area, replaced the sheets, and helped you into a clean, soft gown. Though exhaustion weighed heavily on you, their careful hands made you feel comfortable, allowing you to focus solely on the little being you held.

One of the ladies took the newborn with great care to clean him, while you rested for a few moments, watching every movement with eyes full of love and wonder. When they returned him to you, wrapped in warm blankets, a wave of overwhelming emotion washed over you.

You looked at the child in your arms, noticing his delicate features, his hair already showing the shine of Targaryen heritage.

"Laenor," you whispered, the name leaving your lips with the softness of a prayer.

It was the name of your father, a man whose memory lived on in your heart, a brave leader and a loving father. Naming your son in his honor felt as natural as breathing.

The door to the room opened gently, and when you turned your head, you saw Aemond and Aerion entering. The little boy, without paying attention to the baby in your arms, ran towards you with the urgency of someone who had been holding back his worry. Aerion threw himself into your arms, and as soon as he did, you felt the warm tears running down his face as he hid his little face in the crook of your neck.

"Why are you crying, my love?" you asked in a whisper, gently stroking his small back while leaning down to leave a soft kiss on his wet cheek. "I'm alright."

Aerion sobbed softly, his little hands clinging to you tightly, as if he needed to make sure you were really there, safe and with him.

"I was scared, Mama," he admitted in a small voice. "I didn’t want anything bad to happen to you."

"I know, my little one," you murmured. "But everything is fine now. I’m here with you, and I'm not going anywhere."

Aemond, who had remained nearby, watched the scene with a mixture of pride and relief. He stepped forward, and with a careful gesture, placed a hand on Aerion’s shoulder, silently giving him support. When Aerion felt his father's presence, he finally looked up, his eyes still shining with the tears he hadn’t been able to hold back.

It was then that Aerion noticed the small figure in your arms. His big, curious eyes filled with wonder as he saw his younger brother for the first time. With the same caution children reserve for what they consider most precious, he approached slowly, almost as if he feared breaking something fragile.

"This is your little brother, Laenor," you said with a smile full of tenderness, gently tilting the newborn so Aerion could get a better look.

The little boy gazed at his brother with a mix of fascination and respect, as if he understood that this moment was sacred. With a timid gesture, he reached out his hand towards the baby, gently brushing his tiny hands.

"Hello, Laenor," Aerion whispered, his voice barely audible.

Aemond, with a look that spoke of pride and relief, leaned towards you, his lips meeting yours in a warm and comforting kiss. The connection between you was immediate, like a reaffirmation of the strength of your bond. You responded to the kiss with equal tenderness, feeling in that gesture a deep gratitude for the family you had built together.

"Mama," a small voice was heard at the entrance, soft but full of excitement.

Vaera appeared in the room, her eyes shining with the news she had just received. She wasn’t alone; Helaena followed closely behind, with her unmistakable aura of sweetness and serenity, smiling warmly at you as she saw you cradling the newborn. Just a step behind, Queen Alicent entered with Vaerys in her arms, her elegant bearing and maternal expression completing the family tableau that now filled the room.

"Look, Vaerys," Alicent said in a gentle tone, approaching so the little one could see the new member of the family. "You have a new little brother."

Vaerys, always curious and observant, looked at the baby with big, wide eyes full of wonder. Alicent leaned down slightly to allow little Vaerys to get a better view of Laenor, while Vaera, not wasting a moment, moved closer to your side, clearly fascinated by her new little brother.

"He’s so tiny," Vaera whispered, extending a small, delicate hand to softly touch Laenor’s cheek, her touch full of affection and care.

"He is," you agreed, your voice softened by the mix of emotions that overwhelmed you. "But he’ll grow strong, just like all of you."

With a smile full of confidence and tenderness, you handed the little Laenor to Aemond, who received him with the same delicacy one would treat a precious jewel. You watched as his hands, normally so skilled with a sword, now held his newborn son with an almost reverent care. In his eye, there was a silent pride, a pride that needed no words to be understood.

Aemond turned towards his mother and sister, bringing the baby closer so they could see him better. Alicent, upon gazing at her grandson, smiled with a warmth that softened her features even more, while Helaena, with her ever-serene gaze, extended a hand to gently caress Laenor’s cheek.

Finally, Aemond returned to your side, and together, you looked at Laenor, surrounded by the love and unity of your family. In that moment, everything seemed to be in its place; the arrival of Laenor had not only brought a new life into the world but had also strengthened the bonds that tied you all together.

[studioeisa]

hard carry 🧮 mingyu x reader.

your math major soulmate is the only reason you’re surviving college, but how long can you rely on him for help?

★ math major!mingyu x art major!reader.  ★ word count: 2k ★ genre/warnings: alternate universe: college/university, alternate universe: soulmates (you and your soulmate can communicate with thoughts), romance, fluff, humor. a math term/solution i am not 100% sure about. reader’s thoughts are in pink while mingyu’s are in blue.   ★ footnotes: this is part of my follower milestone event. when are @maplegyu and i not self-indulgent? alas, brainiac!kmg is one of my favorite versions of gyu— so i’m glad to finally have an excuse to play with it. ily, maple! 

↻ ◁ || ▷ ↺ hard carry by got7. no song without you by honne. in the same place by girls on top. let’s love by suho. lilac by iu. mariposa by peach tree rascals. love equation by vixx. common denominator by justin bieber.

Barnett Newman. Helen Frankenthaler. Mark Rothko. 

All fantastic abstract expressionist painters, known for their vibrant compositions and color-saturated canvases. Some of your peers turned their noses up at the movement, presumably because it always took a little more of a critical eye to understand it. 

You didn’t share the same distaste. Most of the time, you enjoyed the colors, lines, and shapes that all served to be a bigger part of a whole. 

If anything, the math problem in front of you was the most abstract thing you’d ever faced. 

You stare at the test paper, your pencil hovering uselessly above the page. The numbers have all blurred together— a mess of equations and symbols that could rival the work of Jackson Pollock. 

It’s almost comical, how you slot so easily into the stereotype of art-major-who’s-ass-at-math. Some people are an exception to the norm. You are not one of them. 

“Fifteen minutes left,” your hard-pressed professor drawls from the front of the classroom, and you snap out of your woe-is-me reverie.

Question five taunts you. If f(x) = 3x² - 4x + 7, find f'(x) and evaluate f'(2).

Derivatives. Okay. You know this. You should know this. 

Except, right now, your brain is a blank canvas.

You purse your lips. This isn’t going to bode well for you, but you’d held out this long. You’ll be lucky to get a C on this test— to pass by the skin of your teeth— and so you deserve to get at least one question indisputably correct. Right? 

Mingyu. You reach out through the bond, desperate. You there? 

Some have said that once you’ve met your soulmate, once you know how they sound like, it’s their voice that rings in your thoughts. If you haven’t, though, you’re left with something more akin to subtitles. Text flashing in your head in a font of your choosing. 

(Your poison is Courier New. You asked Mingyu once, what his font for you was, but he never really ‘got back’ to you on it.) 

There’s a pause— just long enough for you to feel guilty— before a response flashes in your mind. Aren’t you in the middle of a test? 

You can almost imagine his tone. You anticipate it’d be something sharp and warm all at once, which is just your way of coping with how desperate you feel right now. 

I’m seriously failing in the middle of my test, you respond. Hopefully, he can read how frantic and desperate you are. I just need a little nudge. 

A beat. 

You tack on, Please? 

If Mingyu could sigh, he probably would have by now. He’s a man carrying the weight of your academic shortcomings, after all. There’s just enough exasperation in his ‘tone’ when he shoots back, Fine. What is it? 

Your eyes dart over the problem plaguing you. Once you’ve mentally relayed it to your soulmate, he responds without missing a beat. 

Power rule. If you have something like axⁿ, the derivative is naxⁿ⁻¹. 

You blink. Say that like I’m five. 

So help me, God, Mingyu says, forcing you to tamp down a laugh. Okay. What’s 3x²? 

Uh… 6x? 

Good. And -4x? 

-4? 

And a constant? 

Zero— 

You sit up a little straighter, faltering mid-mental correspondence. So f’(x) is 6x - 4.

Mingyu can’t really sound amused— or proud— but you picture it all the same when he urges you to go on. And f’(2)? 

Your pencil is already scribbling furiously across your test paper. Eight, you triumphantly declare. The answer is eight. 

There you go, he answers. 

For not the first time, you wish you’d already met him. It must be nice to have a smile in your mind, a cadence instead of sentences. But you and Mingyu had agreed that neither of you were in a rush. You were both uni students wanting to explore your individual lives at your own pace before attempting a happily ever after. 

It’s only through your ironclad will that you’ve resisted the urge to look him up, to find out if there was a math major named Mingyu within your area.

This is the last time I’m going to help you cheat, he says as you move on to correct your answers for some of the other questions.

A corner of your mouth twitches upward. That’s what you said last time. 

Yeah, well, I mean it this time. Get a tutor or something, woman. 

Are you presenting yourself? 

Don’t tempt me with a good time. 

Your professor keeps you from responding immediately. “Five minutes,” she calls out. 

Your fingers tighten around your pencil. It wouldn’t be the first or last instance where academic integrity might be compromised because of the whole soulmate bond, but Mingyu is right. You can’t keep summoning him like your personal math genie. 

Fine, you concede. I’ll stop bothering you with my [math] problems. Nerd. 

Mingyu asked for it, so, really— he’s to blame for missing it. 

It’s an odd feeling, this restlessness that comes in the absence of your out-of-the-blue inquiries. The two of you still occasionally reach through the bond to exchange an amicable word or two, maybe recommend a song, but gone are the times you’d come running to him for help. 

He’s sitting in the library, his notebook opened to a half-finished proof. His pencil twirls idly between his fingers as he attempts to focus. Instead, his mind keeps drifting to what was once a daily occurrence. 

Panicked whispers of Mingyu, help. Last-minute pleas for salvation. Complaints about how math is ruining your life, how this would most definitely not be useful in the real world. 

(He would never admit it, but he had always liked when you tangented into the last one. It felt a bit like a betrayal to his field, the endearment he felt whenever you’d flood his mind with paragraph after paragraph cussing out Newton and Leibniz for inventing calculus.) 

With a sharp sigh, he stabs his pencil into the spiral binding of his notebook and leans back, rubbing a hand over his face. His fingers drum against the desk. His leg bounces. He debates reaching out first— just to check, just to make sure you haven’t actually given up on math altogether. But what would he even say?

Hey, fail another test yet? Are you alive, or did calculus finally take you out? I kind of miss you annoying me. Don’t let it go to your head.

No, no, and definitely not. 

He doesn’t even know you like that. You’re soulmates and that’s pretty much it. He’s lucky that you’ve been rather chill about the whole affair, not hurrying to meet him and lock him down like other soulmate horror stories he’s heard. 

He knows bits and pieces. Your major, your love for survival reality shows, your utter distaste for anything beyond multiplication. 

Mingyu mumbles something like “for fuck’s sake” to himself. He tries to refocus, and he manages to make it halfway into his homework when it comes. 

Mingyu. 

When you wanted to tell him something inconsequential, like The new Fantastic Four movie sucked or I’d kill for a slice of pizza right now, you went straight into it. You only ever ‘said’ his name when it was related to numbers. 

Took you long enough, he says, his lips twitching. 

Shut up. I was trying to figure it out on my own this time. 

And? 

Your brief moment of hesitation has Mingyu wondering if he’s too cruel. His mother had always advised him to be nice to his soulmate, to not overwhelm you, and he contemplates throwing in an apology. Before he can, though, you’re back in his head. 

I need you. 

Something in his chest tightens. He tells himself it’s just relief. 

(The truth of the matter is this: Mingyu liked being needed by you. He wasn’t sure yet why, but he did.) 

Yeah, yeah, he responds as he absentmindedly sketches a heart into the corner of his notebook. What’s the problem? 

You’re starting to think that a tutor might not be that bad of an idea. 

While Mingyu is always obliging, the guilt of relying on your connection was beginning to weigh on you. You scoured the university boards until you found a girl named Somi willing to meet with you twice a week, and it was going pretty well. 

Still— is it weird to admit that you kind of miss running to Mingyu? 

You try your darndest to keep those thoughts catalogued. A couple of your friends have talked about accidentally slipping some of their innermost thoughts to their soulmates, and God forbid Mingyu find out that you crave his dry wit. 

You can’t miss somebody you’ve never met. 

At least that’s what you keep telling yourself as you go to Mingyu less and less, instead filling in the gaps of your conversation with menial, everyday things. 

What coffee do you usually drink?, you ask him one afternoon. 

You’re in the world’s slowest-moving line, at the cafe you and Somi frequented for your tutoring sessions. Your phone is dead, you’ve analyzed the art on the walls at least seven different ways, and there’s no one around for you to talk to. Might as well abuse the soulmate connection. 

His response comes in by the time you’re nearly at the front of the line. Iced Americano, he responds. Why? 

No reason. 

“Next.” 

You offer a sympathetic smile to the dead-eyed barista at the counter. “Once large iced Americano, please,” you say. 

You go to stand off to the side. As you’re waiting for your order, Mingyu asks a question of his own. 

What about you? 

What about me? 

What’s your go-to order? 

You contemplate it for a moment. Salted caramel cream cold brew. 

The barista hands you your drink. A corner of your lip twitches upward as you accept it, Mingyu’s response coming in at the same time. 

That sounds obscene, he taunts. A toothache in the making. 

Hey. You’re mentally britsling, readying to defend your coffee of choice. I’ll have you know— 

“Oomf!” 

This was sometimes the problem about getting lost in your thoughts. You tend to get dragged out of the real world, stuck in your conversation. You exchange a quick apology with the person you bumped into, the tips of your ears flaming red. 

With your drink in hand, you make a beeline for the table that you and Somi always sit at. You’re distracted enough to forget that you were mid-‘conversation’ with Mingyu, and so you barely register that your usually punctual tutor has yet to arrive— or that someone else is coming up to your table once you’ve settled in. 

Later, you will get a text from Somi telling you something came up, but not to fret; she called in a friend to help. Someone who was more than willing to pick up Somi’s slack after joking that he’d already been doing it for the soon-to-be-love-of-his-life. 

Your gaze flicks up to the boy standing in front of you. 

‘Cute.’ ‘Cute.’ 

It’s a two-way record scratch. 

The stranger hovering by your table seems to freeze, too, and the pieces fall together in your head like a puzzle— no. It’s like when you squint at an abstract painting and the whole thing comes together.

You had said sorry earlier, hadn’t you? To the person you bumped into. He had apologized as well. 

Now, there was a voice to the words in your head. A face to the soulmate you’d been missing.

“Hey,” your soulmate says, he says out loud. 

He plops down into the seat across from you, trying and failing to fight off the biggest smile on his face. There’s no need to exchange introductions. He says your name, and it’s so much better than anything you could have ever imagined. 

When Mingyu sets down his drink, you actually laugh. 

It’s a salted caramel cream cold brew. 

[earthnashes]

Meet Melon's pack! As the story of Melon's Adventure progresses, we will eventually see some, if not all, of these yoshi buddies, so what better way to introduce them than to show off their looks? :)

In order of appearance (in the full lineup image), we have:

Bread (brown yoshi): A very sweet yoshi with a love for bread. Interestingly, yoshis don't really cook... or bake. So where exactly does he get his baked goodness?

Butter (yellow yoshi): Bread's twin sister. She's feisty and fast, and has an odd love for butter. She's willing to eat it by itself, much to her brother's chagrin.

Coconut (blue yoshi): An inquisitive yoshi with a love for coconuts! He spends most of his time exploring the beaches of the island, sniffing for his favorite treat and for any treasures he can take home.

Chili (red yoshi): A large yoshi with a hot temper, and even hotter tastes; they love spicy foods, but especially chili peppers! They're quick to frustrate and is sometimes overly strict, but is fiercely loyal and protective of their packmates. They take their role as protector very seriously, and is often the one to join Fig on her patrols.

Potato (purple yoshi): A large, chomky yoshi with a love for potatoes! She love to eat and is always hungry, but is also very generous; when they forage for food she makes it a point to try and find every tasty morsel she can for her packmates. No one goes hungry on her watch!

Pitaya (pink yoshi): The smallest yoshi in the pack, Pitaya is a little lazy and prefers taking naps under the warm sun over any of the chores his packmates task themselves with. Still, he has the strongest nose in the pack, making him their best tracker. His favorite snack is Dragon Fruit!

Melon (green yoshi): The main character of the story and the leader of the pack! Melon is adventurous, kind, and curious; he isn't afraid to venture into the more dangerous parts of the island if it means mapping out safe paths for his pack. In fact, that was what he was doing when Mario landed on his head. His favorite snack is watermelons!

Fig (black yoshi): The largest, strongest yoshi of the pack, Fig is Melon's trusted second-in-command. Her scars are a testament to the fights she's fought for the safety of the others, and she always came out on top, even if it came with a price. She has a permanent limp and is also the oldest of the pack; in fact she was the leader before she passed the status to Melon. Her favorite snack are figs!

-----

These little rascals are all gonna be available as stickers and a stickersheet in my store's launch: Debuting TOMORROW! ;w;

Stay tuned! ^.^

[fruithoughts]

  In this world there are a couple of absolute truths; the sun will explode someday, the water is wet, capitalism is a demon and of course, Yoon Jeonghan is madly in love with his best friend.

     CW: agegap(he’s 29 and she’s 23, they met when she was 19 and he was 25), bigdick!Jeonghan, fem!reader, friends to lovers, he’s so condescending but in the sweetest way?? what an asshole omg, one reference to him being a smoker, idiots in love, a lil bit of dom!jeonghan.

It's a classic, from the very first time they met, the bastard already knew he was going to end up in bed with the pretty girl with the coffee colored eyes, she retorted his unfunny jokes even when her red cheeks gave away that she was embarrassed, played along all of his little games just to give him hope that this time she had fallen into the hands of the big bad wolf, she was made just for him.

The special treatment Jeonghan provided her didn't sneak under anyone's noses, it was obvious, the only person other than himself that he allows to win during table games, just one look at him with that curious puppy face is enough to make him melt whole, he’s that weak. The only person he listens to when she tells him to stop cheating in games, that guy would give all of  the stars in the universe to his girl, would fix the ozone layer in 3 business days max if she complained about global warming today.

  "I could live like this" oh, that persisting little thought, always wandering in the man's head while he is around his friend, just waiting for the right moment to invade his frontal lobe and consequently force his heart into beating fast like crazy by making him think about the calm and happy life he could have alongside his love.

    The dreamer thinks and thinks while waiting for his girl to finish brushing her teeth, a silly smile stamped on his rascal face as he stares at the ceiling of her room, ironically, they were watching Friends in her bed, as always; against the will of his girl who insisted that the series was silly and he only liked it because he was old.

  As strange as it can sound, they had already slept in the same bed hundreds of times, most of those times due to Hannie’s habit of refusing not to take her with him everywhere he went, which more than often left them with only one hotel room to share, these nights were the most special, nothing sexual happened, which made them even more intimate.

The pointless conversations before bed, faces a few inches away as they discuss each and every scenario that his favorite girl proposes, "What name would you give your child? What if it was a girl?", "If the world ended and only the two of us were left, where would we go? Would you protect me?" She was always more touchy with him when she was tired, he loved every second of it. They cuddled until the princess fell asleep, her warm breath on his neck drove him wild, he wanted to fill her face with kisses, but he never had the courage, always waiting for the right time.

Now that once again he found himself in his friend's bed, just a month or so before his military service called for him, he wondered if he let the right time pass right by him at some point in the last 4 years, it was his biggest fear. What if the fact that he had hookups here and there over the years made her think he had no interest in her? What if the fact that he kept posting stories and photos with her made her come to the conclusion that he doesn't have romantic feelings for her because he wouldn't risk showing his possible future girlfriend to fans, and only posts things with her exactly because they’re completely platonic? 

With the date of the inevitable farewell between the lovebirds approaching, something had changed, Jeonghan couldn't quite figure out exactly what it was, but things were different. His girl always loved him(just not in the way he desired so much), he always knew that, she, who was always closed off with others; had no problem holding his hand under the blanket while watching movies or laying her head on his shoulder during car trips while Seungcheol screamed at Dokyeom because he took the wrong turn again, these moments felt like little secrets, his pretty flower laughing softly at the car fights while the bastard uses their proximity to draw invisible shapes of hearts and dicks on her bare thigh until he gets his hand slapped away when she inevitably realizes what he was drawing, in they’re little world in the back seat, no one would ever know.

Well, never? Maybe it was the wrong word, especially now that everything has changed. For some reason, his friend suddenly started offering him 3 times the attention he was used to receiving from her, holding his arm while waiting in line at the grocery store, hugging his waist and hiding her face behind his back while waiting for the uber, deliberately holding his hand as they strolled through some parking lot, suddenly her behavior made it obvious to anyone with eyes to see that they were in a romantic relationship, Jeonghan was in heaven.

He wanted to fantasize, to dream, to believe that this change was due to the fact that now that he's going away, she finally realized that she loves him, that she's always loved him and that they should be together, but part of him just can’t get over the possibility that she might have just gotten extra comfortable now that she realized he's going soon, and decided to give him all the attention in the world because she’ll miss his friend.

Things were not going according to plan and it made him nervous, restless... What was the plan? To confess as soon as he was discharged from military service, his group would be on a semi-hiatus for at least two more years after his return due to the younger ones serving, it was the perfect time to develop their relationship, he was sure they would get married early too, after all, for how long do you date after being extremely close for 4 whole years? He knows his princess like the back of his hand and she has him around her little finger, she knows everything, his whole life, all of his habits, allergies, fears and almost all his greatest desires. 

 — Stop thinking about other things while I'm here —  His girl's voice as she enters the room takes Jeonghan out of his train of thoughts, staring at her until she reaches the bed and crawls over to him to go cuddle again. 

— Am I only allowed to think about you? —  he asks, arching one of his eyebrows as soon as he has her in his arms, lying on top of him.  — When you're at my house, yes. —  She replies grumpily and Jeonghan laughs when he feels his torso being squeezed closer to her, draping one arm over his baby’s back, also squeezing her closer before depositing a little kiss on the top of her head, there's nothing this man wouldn't give to have this right here every day.

The conversation comes and goes as usual, they talk about life dramas and gossips from their respective groups of friends, some complaints about annoying and inconvenient people, just as inconvenient as...

— And that little guy you were hooking up with? Did you get tired of him already? — Jeonghan asks as if he hasn't spent the last two weeks brooding with jealousy, just the possibility of that idiot having touched his girl makes him want to rip off his own face with his bare hands. He’s not possessive at all, clearly.

  She huffs before replying — And that makeup artist you were clinging to? How is she? — the tone of the question tone made Jeonghan roll his eyes, he only had a little affair with that woman, a few kisses for a week and they slept together once, no big deal, and obviously it didn't mean anything to him, just like all his hookups never did. The man's distant behavior towards the people he fucked with was always a reason for a fights between them and most of the time it was the reason for the "breakup" of said hookup status, but why would he try to feel anything for any of his fuck buddies when his true love was just around the corner? He was just paving the way.

  — You know it was nothing, it never is — the man feels her little eyes burning through his face as he avoids meeting her vision, he knows where his answer will take him, he hates this part — And when will it start to be something? You're getting old, you know… —  she says teasing the possibility of her friend dying alone, he knows she's joking, but that's no comfort to how much it hurts not to have the courage to just hold her face and take what he spent the last 4 years wishing for so much, Jeonghan is patient, but people can hold on for only so long before snapping.

— And when are you going to start dating? Deceiving those little boys is not very nice on your part —  he received an indignant look from his friend, getting exactly where he wanted, the part where he takes control of the conversation back. It was no new's article that Jeonghan didn't really like anyone's face, the problems were always repeated in one way or another, "He's too young, he won't know how to treat you right.", "Look at the way he talks, I could bet five hundred dollars that this guy gets grossed out by the idea of eating pussy, he's just a little boy.", "Beautiful, look at the things this guy posts, he doesn't even know how to talk like a normal person and do you think he'll know how to fuck you?".

It wasn't exactly hard to figure out that Jeonghan doesn't approve of the possibility of his dear and beloved friend being a guy the same age as her, they are immature and gangly, they don't know how to do it the same way he does, they don't have the time and money to be able to take care of her like he can.

The silence coming from his petal makes him worried immediately, if that son of a bitch hurt his love’s heart, he doesn't even know what he's capable of doing — What happened, bunny? — he knew she hated the nickname, he called her by it anyway to get her out of her own head, his princess always thought too much, and he, as her perfect match, knew exactly how to bring her back to the real world.

She sighed before shyly admitting — You were right… —  he felt a wave of satisfaction run through his entire body, he loved it when his theories about the girl's hookups ended up being accurate — What was Hannie right about, hm? Tell me. —  he received a slap on his arm and could tell just from her breathing that his pretty little thing was sulking like never before.

  — He didn't even know how to hold a conversation! He didn't talk about anything worthwhile, he didn't have anything to do with life, he was a bore! — she vented, obviously it was something that had been bothering her for a long time, and who wouldn't be bothered when it's impossible to find a nice guy? Nobody had an interesting back and forth, a way of talking that made her all soft, a way of being that was all unique and special, there was no one like that. There was no one like him.

Jeonghan saw life pass before his eyes, the hand that was on the girl's back unconsciously squeezed her waist a little harder, with his eyes still fixed on the ceiling, for a moment he really considered that he was finally going insane, would she ever notice? Was that what they were going to be for the rest of their lives?

Friends who run into each other's arms to receive the affection and love many couples out there can't dream of having for each other while complaining that they can't find the "right person"? Would she ever really find someone who matched her? Someone who isn't him? Someone who doesn't deserve his girl at all, someone who hasn't spent literal years learning all the little details and parts of her life and worked so hard to be the best friend she could ever have, someone who doesn't love her the same way he does, someone who won't know how to make her cum as good as she deserves, someone who… — Jeonghan? — like the devil, that sweet, sweet voice calls to him, and by this point, he's been starving for quite a while.

— I'd make you the happiest woman in the world if you’d let me —  the words lingered in the air for a few seconds that seemed like an eternity, he felt his doll's heart start to act as if she had just run a marathon, the strong beats against his chest seemed to mimic the beating of his own heart, which she surely felt too. He didn't even realize when exactly he closed his eyes out of pure fear of having ruined everything, he also didn't dare to open them when he felt her moving around on top of him, when he thought he couldn't stand to stay there any longer without running. 

He felt the sweetest kiss this universe has ever dared create, immediately his hands went to his... friend’s? Face,  kissing her back fervently, Jeonghan could cry if he didn't have so much adrenaline in his body after confession, the position was already perfect, they were grabbing and pulling and rubbing on each other for so long, maybe twenty minutes? Maybe two hours? Four days? It was hard to discern silly things like the time when he finally had his girl exactly where he had always wanted her.

— I don't want you to go, Jeongie... —  she confessed breathlessly, holding onto collar of the baggy shirt the man wore as if he was going to disappear as soon as she let go, those shiny little eyes were capable of making him fight 9 wars, weed 5 batches, discover the cure for 13 diseases, achieve anything that could possibly make her stay with him forever.

— I know, I know, my love —  he laid her on the bed with all of the care in the world, only to then, like an addict, go back to enjoying his girl's delicious mouth while he tested the territory by caressing the soft skin of her waist and belly under her pajama top — Do you love Hannie? Do you not want him to leave? — Yoon Jeonghan was worse than any whore, he wants to hear that he wasn't the only one who’s obsessed, that he's not the only one who spent the last 4 years losing nights of sleep and wasting who knows how much bath water while thinking about his best friend.

He feels his princess's warm little hands begin to explore his torso, scratching his chest and waist, sinking her sharp nails into the skin of his shoulders and the sides of his abdomen so, so deliciously, if he was a little less patient he would have already given up doing things slowly — Wait for it, you'll how learn to be patient, bunny.  — Jeonghan commanded firmly when he felt his pants being pulled down little by little. His girl would be lying if she said she wasn't dying to give in, the bulge in his pants was more than enough to scare her off, but she knew her Hannie would never hurt her — You'll wait for me to fuck you when you’re ready to take it, without complaining, gonna be good to me. 

The prep was long, this man didn't rest until he made his little doll cum in his mouth, then with his long and precise fingers, then with the both, he paused between the three of them so he wouldn’t overwhelm his sweet girl, he did everything to make her as open up as much possible but it would still take time to be able to fuck hard when he entered her little heaven, he was at peace with it, in fact, he was already in paradise just by eating her out. 

The one who wasn't at peace was her, this asshole was too hot for his own good, if she had the strength she would have already ripped off this motherfucker's underwear with her own teeth, unfortunately no one tells you how hard it is to find the strength to be angry with someone after they just gave you the three best orgasms of your life.

  — You look so much happier, baby, just needed someone to treat you the way you like —  his lips and chin glittered with her honey, if they weren't so close, she would probably be ashamed to have gotten so wet, but he deserved it — It impresses me that you didn't suffocate down there, with those black lungs. They must look like two raisins —  she jokes while pulling him by the shirt to get on top of her again, wiping the sweet juice from his chin with her thumb, only to put it directly in her friend's mouth, who happily received the dirty act and sucked her thumb clean.

— I won't even tell you what I'm going to leave looking like a raisin if you don't drop the attitude — he joked right back before kissing her, drunk in love. That was it, everything he ever wanted, just him and his woman locked in the bedroom, smiling like two idiots while making each other feel good, this could last forever, but now he was the one who couldn't wait any longer, all it took was her looking up to him though her eyelashes, giving him the puppy eyes he fell in love with all those years ago, it was all it took for him decided he couldn't take it anymore — Take it off, I'm tired — he says while letting his hands fall to the sides as he knelt on the bed, in front of her, looking down to his pants basically saying "if you want it, then come and get it", this scoundrel is very lucky to have such a beautiful face, otherwise he would have been punched already. 

When the little game and fights were finally over and the time finally came, he entered very slowly, truly enjoying every second of his precious time and honestly, as much as it killed him to see his little princess in pain... Jesus Christ, that expression with her eyebrows tensed up and half-lidded eyes while her red mouth moans his name just so sweetly is a sight dangerous enough to kill anyone. The scene left him all vulnerable, his knees risked failing, his fingers lost strength, and in the end, Jeonghan was a weakling for his girl.

  Her little sounds were all he needed to start moving, extremely slowly, he needed to train her tight little hole to be fucked by a real man — Those little boys really did you wrong, hm? Doesn't feel like you’ve ever been fucked at all — he made a point of speaking as he watched the long drag of his cock into and out of his little angel, hypnotized.

— Shut up, Jeonghan — she said angrily, it was embarrassing to remember that she had been with other people when she could have spent all of this time getting eaten out this good instead. He replied  — “Jeonghan"? Where's Jeongie, Hannie? Do you want me to stop fucking you so you can tell me about this "Jeonghan" guy? — his suggestion was answered with a loud sound of dissatisfaction, and with the little strength she had below her torso, she hugged his waist with her legs to keep him inside. 

  Watching her desperation filled him with all kinds of feelings, just thinking about how good he could fuck her when his princess was used to his size, he could start drooling right there. He sneaks his face into her neck to start another attack, leaving purple and red marks all over his flower’s shoulder, the easing of his thick cock inside her was too good to be true, he couldn't keep his mouth shut — Mine, mine, mine. — he whispered and grunted at her ear lobe. 

Maybe that was just part of having sex with someone you know so well, but he even knew what the attempts of words she moaned meant, he knew she was fighting with him for deciding all on his own that she belonged to him, he knew his stubborn girl too well to not notice — Try disagreeing, go on — he tells her all whiny, imitating the tone of the moans of his now; girlfriend, according to his head — Tell me that you're not mine, that we belong to other people, that this pretty little pussy wasn't made just for me, go on, tell me — clearly the words affected her a lot, if her watery eyes tightening until they closed and her little hole threatening to expel him from being so tight were anything to be go by. He held her jaw tightly, forcing her to look at him. — If you're going to lie to me, lie to my fucking face.

She was going insane, he was doing it so, so well, but he was so slow… Even though a little bit pain was still present, fuck it! She was barely holding on from not trembling with desire, she wanted more, she wanted him — Stop treating me like I'm made out of glass, Jeongie! — she tried to sound bossy but the neediness refused to leave the girl’s voice, Jeonghan could have melted right there.

— And you’re not? What’s my doll made out of, then? — he grabbed one of his girl’s delicious thighs firmly,  leaving a hard slap that would definitely leave a mark, it burned like hell and the bastard didn't help at all, he just held the abused meat again  — What’s this, princess? Did it hurt? Are you gonna to cry?  — the condescension seemed to overflow from his mouth just like his girl's juices overflowed from her puffy hole and stained the fluffy bed sheet with each deep thrust, which now, very slowly as to not hurt her, were taking on a faster rhythm that made her head spin. 

Having thoughts that made sense was too much to ask of the poor thing who was getting the biggest cock beating of her life, she barely heard a word that came out of her beloved's mouth, she just stared at his lips, which used to be thin but were now full and red from the intensity of their love, she just wanted to kiss him again, she needed to be a good girl to kiss him again, did he say something? He said it, didn’t he? A... A question... What was it? "What’s this?" — It’s yours, Jeongie — she replied after using all her mental strength available at that moment, which wasn't much.

Jeonghan couldn't help but smile about how stupid he made his bunny — Mhm, it’s just mine, baby — he held her sweaty little face with gentleness that was completely alien if compared to the harshness of which his hips kissed hers. It was so deep, she felt so full, she never wanted it to end, it was too good, she wanted to cry with the fact that she couldn't hold it for much longer. 

— Do you not want me to stop after you finish, princess? —  he asked just so softly, finding it the most precious scene in the world when his flower frantically shook her head, going "No, no, no!", his cutest little thing — Don’t worry, doll, I’ll only stop when you’re dripping with cum.   

[cvntroach5000]

LaDS men react to you getting a cat

Xavier

• Very happy that you're getting your own little buddy for your apartment.

• Brings your cat a bunch of goodies to welcome it to its new home.

• They immediately hit it off, since Xavier is naturally good with animals.

• Honestly, the cat starts to feel like a mini version of Xavier with how it immitates him. Or maybe he's immitating the cat?

• Sometimes when you're doing something, you catch them both looking at you with the exact same look of love and you think 'Oh. They're the same guy.'

• When he falls asleep on your couch, your cat, in turn, falls asleep on top of him.

• You have a whole photo album dedicated just for their naptimes, they're incredibly cute together.

• He gets one of those little cloth wrap bags to carry it around in, after it gets too big to fit in the pocket of his hoodie. He just walks around with it like a mom with a baby, and it happily rests and purrs.

Zayne

• He's so excited about this.

• When he meets it for the first time, he comes into your home dressed up and carrying gifts like he's about to meet your parents.

• Despite the bribes of cat toys and treats, the cat totally hates him.

• After it hisses at him and runs off, he just falls to his knees and stays in that position for a solid minute.

• "T-This was my only chance..." If your cat doesn't like him, no cat is ever going to like him.

• You don't think you've ever seen a reaction this dramatic from him.

• You do your best to assist him on his mission to get along with your cat. You instruct him to sit still on the couch and even sprinkle a bit of catnip next to him.

• Eventually, your cat makes its way over to him and becomes a comfortable little loaf next to his thigh.

• He's afraid to even breathe cause he might scare it away, but he's making intense eye contact with you that screams 'It's happening! Everybody stay calm!'

• The progress is slow, but any time your cat does anything to imply it at least tolerates Zayne, he's practically moved to tears.

Rafayel

• He cannot believe you'd do this to him

• This is betrayal. A breach of trust. Complete backstabbing move on your part.

• You try dressing it up in little mermaid and fish-themed costumes to warm him up to it but he just stares at it like it's Satan's incarnate.

• Much to his horror, the wretched creature adores him.

• You use that to try and butter him up with compliments, but he stubbornly refuses to accept your cat's love.

• "Why does it keep smelling my fingers like that?! That's disgusting!"

• "It must think you smell nice if it keeps doing that."

• "It's trying to eat me?!"

• He eventually somewhat accepts his fate of being the cat's favorite fishnip, but he still likes to whine about it. Will randomly text you to inform you he found fur on his clothes or, worse, in his mouth.

• Maybe he quite likes your cat. But only that one! Cause it's yours. Special privileges.

Sylus

• He is very pleased with this development.

• Gets you one of those fancy self-cleaning litter boxes and a bunch of other gadgets, like an automatic bowl and a water fountain. And, of course, large, high-quality cat trees for your cat to go apeshit on.

• To nobody's surprise, the cat loves him.

• The moment he makes himself comfortable on your couch, the little rascal is all over him.

• "Wait, Sylus, let me get you a change of clothes. You'll get fur all over yourself!"

• "It's fine. If the clothes get ruined, I'll just throw them away and buy new ones."

• He's completely unbothered and lets the cat make biscuits on his expensive black suits.

• Your cat also has a couple of crazy fancy collars. You don't really make it wear them, since you live in an apartment and your cat doesn't go outside, so there's not really a need for it. But they look really cute on it.

• Sylus does have pictures of the cat wearing every single one of the collars he's gifted it though.

• You actually got the cat accustomed to Mephisto since it was a kitten, so they make a surprising, fun little duo.

Caleb

• He's glad you have some non-human company while he's not with you. And he genuinely likes the critter!

• He always brings food and treats for you cat, and when he cooks he'll make a whole separate meal specifically for your cat.

• When he first met it, the moment you left them alone, he picked it up and said to it "You have to keep them company and keep them happy while I'm not here, got it? Do not blow this for us."

• Unbeknownst to you, he has saddled the blissfully ignorant creature with quite the responsibility.

• "Caleb, you're overfeeding the poor thing. It's going to pop from how much you let it eat! Animals don't have a sense of restraint like us."

• "Awww, so it's going to be a cute, chubby little cat." He cuddles it, giving it kisses on its squishy cheeks, "Don't worry, baby, Caleb will love you and take care of you, no matter what."

• This isn't about the cat anymore is it.

• Trying to reason with him is impossible, he's decided he'll spoil the cat rotten and that's that. You can't convince him to stop.

[random-writer-online]

Meetings with a baby - 1

Damian stared down with a dubious look, a frown set on his youthful face. His hand on the front door, looking at the soggy box holding a surprisingly calm baby. It was clothed, thank the heavens, but there were dried tears on the little thing. “Tt.” he clicked, his hands grabbing hold of the young babe. 

Speaking of the young babe, it woke up from its slumber, hiccuping and babbling slowly growing with frequency as it realised they were picked up. Twas a funny sight to behold from an outsider’s point of view, a young child– no older than fourteen– holding an equally younger baby in its grasp. Damian held the baby like you would a kitten, his arms holding the baby’s armpits. 

“Father would certainly approve,” Damian muttered mindlessly, eyeing the black inky hair and icy blue eyes. Even its tan skin would match some of his siblings, he thought with distaste. He looked down past the baby, wondering if there was a note inside. No, instead of a simple note that would be easy to read, there in the box had a carving name of ‘Danny F.’ in it. 

Damian huffed, kicking the box further out the steps and shutting the doors that led inside. Hesitantly, he pulled the young babe closer to his chest, his right hand holding Danny’s head and his left cradling the baby. “You must be mine now, as I found you first.” Damian said, possessiveness leaking through his tone. 

The young baby babbled in what appears to be amusement, or happiness, it’s little body squirming and shivering with joy. Damian’s lips pursed, wondering if all baby’s were like this. ‘Hopefully not,’ he demanded. His legs moved on their own up the lavished stairs, following the steps to his bedroom on the second floor. Opening the door was tough, as the babe weighed more than he realised. 

Eventually, he closed his bedroom door and settled the baby down on the edge of his king sized bed, the baby wiggling around like a useless worm. Figuring Twas cold, Damian seized a small blanket from when he was a kid and plopped it on top of the baby. Danny made a noise that couldn’t be described, before clutching the blanket in its grasp, almost like laying claim on it.

‘Just like me, I suppose.’ Damian thought amusingly. Before turning himself towards the desk that held his computer. Logging in, he searched on what babies may need, mindlessly scrolling till he found a good enough website to browse. It went on until he heard a cry behind him. 

Damian turned head, looking back on his bed. Danny was kicking his feet, his arms shaking wildly. An unsettling aroma hit his nose, making him scrunch his face in disgust.

“Tt.” He grunted, getting up and coming over to the young babe. He probably had to change sheets, he thought, irritated. Holding Danny up like a misbehaving kitten would, he shuffled over to his private bathroom and setted Danny laying down on his bathroom counter. 

Danny whined like a puppy though, squirming uncomfortably. “This hurts me more than you, rascal.” Damian muttered under his breath, already wanting to get this over with. 

~TIME SKIP~

Damian gagged when he threw the offending piece of diaper into his trash, washing his hands aggressively and spritzing with a freshener spray all over his bathroom, before cleaning up the little babe that was giggling. “Little devil.” Damian clicked his tongue, dressing Danny in one of his clean boxers that held a pad, courtesy of stealing one from Cass’s room. 

Setting Danny on his bed once more, clean from stains thankfully, in a sitting position before grabbing an open cup filled halfway with warm milk. Slightly tilting the baby’s head and pressing the cup towards its mouth, he let Danny sip from the cup until the milk was eventually gone.

Damian blinked like a lizard, putting the cup down on his bedside table before changing into night wear. Holding the young babe close to his chest, he pulled his blanket up and made sure to sleep on his back, with the blanket only going up to Danny’s shoulders.

Speaking of Danny, the young babe babbled in content, small hands clutching the shirt Damian wore to sleep. Damian petted the baby’s head, before closing his eyes to fall into, hopefully, a deep slumber.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hope y'all enjoyed this little story! I will maybe write more of these that will feature Damian taking care of a baby Danny. Again, sorry if there was any out-of-character moments from Damian.., Bye darlin's, mwah! ( ˘ ³˘)♥︎

[aninipanin1]

I love the manager x coaches. Would it be fine if Y/N brings her niece to job and little rascal pretends Y/N is her mom instead?

Niece: "You know my mama?"

Coaches and players: *Having heart attack.*

I'm not sure if it would be too out there or out of character. I just thought it might be funny. Hope you have inspiration 🩷

MAMA?!

Notes: Was legit abt to start the Little Mermaid fic for Chigiri but I suddenly had the urge to write for adult manager cause its been so long since I wrote one lmaooo and this was so cute so I just had to even though I said reqs are closed I JUST HAD TOOOOO

"There you are, Y/n! It's so good to see you!" Your cousin, Eina hugged you tight, patting your back softly. It has been a while since you last saw her due to both your busy lives with you as the manager of Blue Lock and her as a mother of two, as well as taking care of a small family business.

Coming from a family of businessmen and women was definitely not an easy responsibility, and you were just so happy that you did not get involved in the many drama when it came to your family's many businesses.

Eina was your cousin from your father's side and was the only one who did not spite or hated you for not being in the same calibre as your sister and other cousins. You loved her and always viewed her like the older sister you never had.

"Auntie! Auntie!"

You heard the familiar squeal, as you were immediately tackled by a toddler. Groaning in pain, you let out a small chuckle before kneeling on the ground to stare at the cute little girl eye to eye.

"It's been so long, Aina-chan! Look at how much you've grown! How old are you now, hm?"

"I'm this many!" She showed you four fingers, to which you smiled proudly.

"Wow, such a big girl! You're so cute, my little snookledum."

Carrying her in your arms while pretending to snatch her nose away, your cousin finally made you both turn due to her good natured laugh.

"Are you sure you and your boss are fine with it? I can always leave her to a nanny..."

The worried look on her face made you snicker, before shaking your head.

"Oh, of course it is! I wouldn't have said yes. Besides, I think this pretty girl deserves some aunty time for a few days! Whaddya say, my snookledum?"

"Yeah! Aunty time!" She cheered, engulfing you in a warm hug.

"We'll be fine. Worry more about the meetings okay? I'll take care of her as I always do."

"Auntyyyyy...Aina is bored. Let's play I spy!"

The little girl clung onto your arms the moment you both entered the Blue Lock facility where the four year old would be staying for a few days until her mother returned from her business trip in Singapore.

She definitely was a little sunshine, always wanting to play and not even flinching at the sudden change of location. If you were to be honest, in another life, you would want to have Aina's extrovetedness, and maybe then, you'll actuallh start having more friends and become more open when it came to different things.

"Hmm, how about later? It is lunch time, after all. Aren't you hungry, Aina-chan?"

Just as she was about to answer, a loud grumbling was heard from her little tummy which made you laugh.

"Welp, your stomach spoke for you. C'mon, let's eat!"

This went on for a few more days, with the only people who have seen Aina being Ego and Anri, mainly because even though the girl was energetic and an extrovert, she was easy to distract for hours on end. Just give her an interesting toy, and she won't drop it for a second until she realised that her bum hurt from sitting and playing for too long.

You toom advantage of that, leaving her to your office a few times to take care of the players while the rest of your day you will be cooped up inside your room, working and taking care of her at the same time.

However, in the midst of her stay, something else caught Aina's attention other than the toys you gave her.

She was with Anri (who she started calling Aunty too), who watched on from the monitors, overlooking some of the players for Ego while he went out somewhere to do 'something' apparently. Aina grew more attached to Ego than she did with Anri, and that is something most of you noticed. (Although Ego tries to pretend he hates the toddler)

It was probably because they do look eerily alike, with the same straight black hair and eye shape with along with a skinnier build and pale skin. The only exception was Aina taking the classic (e/c) colour everyone from your father's family had

You and Anri will secretly joked about how Ego was the real father and that somehow, the little girl was just swapped at birth or something, but it was all in good fun.

Back to the little girl, Aina looked at all the monitors, wanting to see if there were any familiar faces in them. To which she panned at one in the bottom and found you talking to Chris Prince amicably. And well, from that angle you did look a teeny bit like your cousin, Eina, hence why the little girl on the chair started to shout to call her mama, or who she thought was her mama.

"Mama! Mama! Youre back!"

Anri, seeing the cheering toddler could not help but smile fondly, however she did approach the little girl and told her that it was just you, her aunty and not her mama. Aina, just frowned at that, missing her mother dearly.

Well, that was until Anri had a brilliant idea, one that made her giggle mischievously.

"Hey, Aina-chan! Do you like pranks?"

The little girl's eyes brightened as she jumped from the chair she was in.

"Ooh! Yes! Yes please! Let's do a prank aunty! What are we gunna do?"

The smirk on the elder woman's face became wider as she started to whisper in the little girl's ear.

"That's all the JFU wanted to tell all of you. Now go."

Ego said coldly, dismissing the masters who all sat around the long table. The director of Blue Lock called for a very quick meeting with the rest of the masters. Since Anri was not free at the moment due to working with something that is related to the Neo-Egoist League (and also babysitting), you were the one called in to take notes.

The masters did not immediately leave, most of them approaching you to start small talks (ahem Chris and Lavinho ahem) while the others were busy taking the time to write down some things and cleaning up their things scattered on the table.

However, the automatic door suddenly opened, which made everyone look towards who was entering the meeting room, when a flash of long black hair and a small figure ran to your direction.

Flinching with a groan, you were definitely taken aback by the tight hug. You were suddenly attacked by a small figure. Small arms wrapped around your middle.

"Mama! I missed you!"

Crickets.

At first, it was just you who was in shock, not even sure why she called you her 'mama' when you are clearly not. But, it was not just you as gasps was heard around the room.

Chris gasped like he had just discovered the most scandalous gossip ever. Lavinho's looked like he was close to passing out. Snuffy's smile almost vanished as a vein popped in his forehead. Noa's eyes were colder than it usually felt like. While Ego just looked on emotionlessly, he was definitely more than confused, especially when you told him the child was your cousin's.

"Sweetie, wha-"

"Mama, you were gone for too long. I wanted to see you."

Aina hugged you tighter, her puppy eyes already on as she tried to look as innocent as possible which definitely worked on you.

"You have a daughter, Y/n-san?"

Loki was the only voice of reason amongst the quiet and heartbroken quiet adult men, as he just smiled at the young girl who is now in your arms.

"What? Oh, no! You misunderstand-"

But as if bad luck is not already on your side today, the little girl in your arms turned around to face Ego, who still sat calmly on his chair and called out to him in a name that you knew will legit get you in trouble.

"Papa! Hi! You're here too! Aina missed you!"

Now, that had everyone's mouth on the floor. Yes, even Noa and Loki had their mouths open, although not as exaggerated as the others.

"WHAT?!"

"Are you serious?!"

"Ego, you bastard-"

Ego just raised an eyebrow at the predicament, not even trying to stop and deny the claims. Instead, he even seemed to be enjoying it.

The coaches were definitely pissed. Out of all the men in the world you could have chosen (ahem themselves ahem) you chose to be with Ego?! And even worse, bear his child?!

Looking at the girl in your arms, she seems to be the perfect mix of you and Ego. Her hair, skin and build reminiscent of the man while her (e/c) eyes definitely came from you. So there was no doubt in their heads that it was not true!

You did look good holding a child, and you seemed to be very good with them. The little girl seemed to be enamoured with you, playing with the ends of your hair or pecking your cheek. You'd definitely be a good mother.

Now, if only you did not conceive with that four-eyed fucking asshole-

"Wait, I swear its not like that, guys-"

"No, don't worry, Y/n. You can tell us everything." Noa said stoically.

"Yeah. Did he force you or anything? We can call the authorities on him or even beat him up for you if you want." Lavinho added to which you blinked in horror at.

"What?! Please don't! Let me explain-"

"No, no, Y/n. You don't have to explain or remember the things he did. Seeing as to how he treats you and the lack of ring on your finger, I can see he does not give importance to you as a woman." Snuffy said, holding your shoulders gently, pushing you beside him and away from the ravenette man in question.

"You don't have to worry a thing, pretty. We'll take care of this." Chris said, cracking his knuckles to which you panicked even more.

"Um guys, maybe we shouldn't jump to conclusions." Loki said, seeing you panic and the absolute irrational conclusions of the four coaches.

"You all are talking about me as if I'm not here." Ego finally responded on the accusations. Although his words did not help at all in making the situation worse.

"You have the audacity to even remind us you are still here." Lavinho said, walking closer to the man who still did not look like he feared for his life at all.

"Oh my god! STOP! I've been trying to tell all of you that it's not what it looks like! Aina over here is the daughter of my cousin! Me and Ego-san did not do anything disgusting! Now can anyone not fight in front of a toddler and a minor?!"

You said in a mini outburst, leaving Aina to Loki while you glared at all of them. Yes, even Ego who did not immediately deny the accusations.

All of them were of course taken aback by the outburst, used to your soft and kind countenance most of the time. So to see you mad for the first time definitely made them a little guilty.

And also gush because you looked hot-

Ahem, anyway. It took a bit of deeper explanation before they were fully convinced, and well, there was no apology at all for what they said to Ego. He's still an enemy for you in their eyes, so why would they become all buddy-buddy with their opponent?

For the rest of the day, the coaches just ended up watching you be maternal and soft from afar, thinking to themselves that you will indeed be a good future mother someday. And hopefully (and if you'd agree to it), they would be the one who will see that you every day.

ADDITIONAL TIME:

Unbeknownst to you, though, someone was eavesdropping, and that certain someone was Otoya. Running back to his room, he was cackling like an evil conspirator, chatting with the others on his phone:

Blue Lock is WRITTEN by Kaneshiro Muneyuki and ILLUSTRATED by Nomura Yusuke. All credits to the both of them.

[luvbabydoll]

heaven beside him, hell inside him — chapter one

a series made by © luvbabydoll

warnings — reader is described to be more on the “chubbier” side.

a/n — may not be accurate when it comes to the cod universe (i don’t play cod fyi)

the fairground stretched wide under the texas sunset, bathed in that golden glow that made everything look warm and easy. it had all the fixings of a proper county fair—kids running around with sticky fingers from candy apples, country music twanging from overhead speakers, the distant whirr of the ferris wheel spinning against the horizon.

tf 141 was scattered across the crowd, watching, observing, but for once, relaxed. they’d spent too many months in the dirt, in the dark, with blood under their fingernails. this? this was civilization. a rare bit of normal.

soap was the first to comment, eyes flicking over to a large barbecue stand near the center of the fairgrounds.

“christ,” he muttered, nudging ghost. “would ye look at that? proper texas-sized barbecue goin’ on over there.”

ghost didn’t bother responding, just lifted his chin in acknowledgment, eyes scanning the massive booth. there were banners strung overhead, long tables piled high with smoked meats, and a man at the front, sleeves rolled up, tending to the grill like he was born to do it.

didn’t matter. they weren’t here for that.

but then—

a blur of movement.

three small figures darted through the crowd, little cowboy boots kicking up dust, weaving between fairgoers until they stopped right in front of them, wide-eyed and staring.

the kids.

they were young—no older than six or seven—all blonde-haired and blue-eyed, with sun-kissed skin from too many summers spent outside.

and they were staring at them like they’d just seen superheroes.

one of the boys grabbed onto his mother’s dress, tugging insistently. “mama, look!” he pointed, his little voice ringing with excitement. “they’re soldiers! just like daddy!”

that’s when they saw you.

you turned at the sound of her son’s voice, smoothing down the fabric of her sundress before finally glancing up—

and fucking hell.

soft curves, delicate features, and that unmistakable southern charm that knocked the wind out of them. your sundress, a light floral thing, swayed gently as you moved, cinched at the waist in a way that made every single one of them take a second look.

you were as pretty as a damn picture.

the kind of woman men fought wars over.

“oh, sweetheart,” you sighed, crouching to their level, brushing a gentle hand over one of the boy’s hair. “you gotta stop runnin’ off like that, sugar. you’re gonna give your mama a heart attack.”

your voice was as sweet as honey—thick, dripping with warmth, every syllable slow and southern.

soap—forever the first to flirt—grinned, squatting slightly to meet the boys' height. “aye, lads, yer daddy’s a soldier, is he?” his scottish brogue was thick, but the kids didn’t seem to mind, looking up at him like he was the coolest thing they’d ever seen.

you laughed, standing up straight again. “oh, he sure is. and these little rascals think that means they gotta tell everybody about it.” you gave them an apologetic look, tucking a stray curl behind your ear. “i’m so sorry if they’re botherin’ y’all.”

“not at all,” price said, voice deep and distinctly british. he nodded at the boys, giving them one of his rare, softer smiles. “they’ve got the right idea. takes a lot of guts to serve.”

you beamed at that.

“my husband always says the same thing.”

something about that sentence sat wrong with them, but none of them could put a finger on why.

they kept talking—easy, too easy. you were polite, warm, completely unguarded in the way you spoke to them. you asked them where they were from, how long they were in town, and if they’d gotten a chance to try some real texas barbecue yet.

and the way you talked—so effortlessly sweet, slipping in casual darlins and sugars—made soap want to drop down to one knee then and there.

the smallest boy tugged on your dress again, bouncing slightly. “mama, can we get funnel cake now?”

you let out a soft little sigh, shaking her head with a smile. “lord, you boys are worse than your daddy, i swear.”

soap raised an eyebrow. “he got a sweet tooth, does he?”

you laughed, head tilting just slightly, your cheeks glowing warm under the sunset.

“oh, you have no idea,” you teased, voice dropping into something conspiratorial. “i always tell him i married a man, not a kid.”

they all chuckled at that.

you were charming as hell.

if you weren’t married, soap probably would’ve been on his knees already, offering her his last name right then and there.

but then—

“sugar!”

the voice was loud, familiar—a slow, easy drawl that made every single one of them freeze.

they turned, eyes scanning the crowd.

you turned too, her expression instantly softening, fond in a way that sent something cold trickling down their spines.

“comin’!” you called back, giving them a sweet little smile before turning to leave. “it was real nice meetin’ y’all. if you need anything while you’re in town, don’t be shy, alright?”

and then—you walked away.

they watched you go.

watched the way your hips swayed under that light sundress, the deliberate way you moved, the way your sons tugged at your hands as they neared the barbecue booth.

they should have looked away.

but they didn’t.

instead, they watched as you stepped right up to a man—your husband—who greeted you with a bright, boyish grin.

he scooped up one of the boys effortlessly, settling him on his hip, while the others clung to his legs. and then—right there, in front of everyone—he kissed you.

not just a peck.

a real kiss. hands on your waist, pulling you close, like you were something precious.

the same hands that had once ordered them dead.

the same fucking man they thought they’d killed.

ghost exhaled sharply.

soap stared.

price ran a hand down his face, eyes narrowing.

and when graves finally pulled away, murmuring something against his wife’s lips that made her laugh—that was when it hit them.

soap was the first to speak, voice low and gutted.

“no fucking way.”

ghost didn’t say a word—just clenched his jaw, adjusting his gloves.

and price, ever the calm one, took a slow sip of his beer before muttering—

“son of a bitch.”

[genderlessdude92]

A CLEAN MIND

[First part >.<]

PAIRING: Alastor x Wife!Reader SUMMARY: After a long night of doing Lucifer’s Tango with the infamous Radio Demon, limbs sore to the brim, Alastor decides that it’s best to give his darling some proper aftercare. Of course one thing had led to another, but what would they do once they were caught in the net with a knock on the door? WARNINGS: Fem!Reader, reader is sensitive, shower sex, mentions of terrible soreness from the night before, Alastor is a little bit of a rascal 🤓☝️ *snort* (apologies), Nifty almost catching them in the middle of it, sexual content in general, mature language, dubious consent, power dynamics, violent language (not too degrading though), unprotected sex, Exhibitionism, relationship dynamics. LMK if i missed anything!!!

NOTICE: please don't copy or steal or translate any of my work or you will be haunted in your dreams and i will spawn something unpleasant at your porch the next day. But...thanks for liking my work !! >.< Property of @l4zyb0n35 and @genderlessdude92

Requests are open, support is highly appreciated!

WORDS: 1.2k (not including the bonus fic at the end)

〰ଘ(੭ˊᵕˋ)੭ ..。.:*･ﾟ♫₊ ♪ *♬‧₊enjoy!~

Y/N was awoken by the weight shift in her shared bed. Slowly, she sat up, stretching the soreness out of her, to see Alastor getting up from bed and walking over to his dresser. Y/N sighed and laid back down in the red silk sheets, but then felt a hand on her forehead one moment later.

“I see you’re awake,” Alastor said, smiling. “How do you feel?”

Y/N groaned and turned her head away. “Not good…”

“Ah, well, I figured so.” Alastor chuckled, running his fingers through her hair. “But I will fix it for you, as always.”

He grabbed her arm and helped her stand up, but Y/N protested. “Just a couple more minutes, Al,” she stated, “I’m sore as a dam’s log…” Alastor laughed softly when he heard her say one of the old sayings from their time.

“Alright… But you need to get up soon, honey. It’s not healthy staying in bed all day…especially without a proper cleaning after last night.” He smiled more softly and leaned down to kiss her lips, then went into the bathroom. Y/N lay back down again, welcoming the feeling of the twisted sheets once more.

After about two minutes, Alastor came back out with a warm washcloth. He bent down next to the bed and gently swipes the cloth on her face, wiping away old sweat or…anything else that might be there. Y/N blushed at the thought, but still let him cleanse her face.

…makeup- he’s wiping off makeup.

When he finished, Alastor tossed the wet rag into the hamper and walked back towards the bedroom, leaving the door open. He stopped right beside the bed. “Get up, sweetheart. We need to take care of your sore muscles and such.”

Y/N rolled her eyes and got off the bed, walking into the bathroom. Alastor followed behind her, closing the door. She stood in front of the mirror as Alastor started the water in the shower. Y/N inspected at herself.

Damn, i looked better when i was alive.

Seeing that Alastor was taking off his unde rgarments, Y/N decided to do the same.

After they were finished with that, Alastor moved his head to the side to look at her, “Let me help you get cleaned up, yes?” Alastor grabbed her shoulders and turned her around.

“Okay.” Y/N nodded and stepped under the showerhead, letting the water pour over her body. Alastor stepped inside, grabbing some body soap and pumping it into his claws.

Alastor ran his hands slowly across her back. He continued to caress her skin until she reached forward, grasping her shoulders and pulling him closer. His hands were still moving, but now against her breasts. He squeezed them lightly, knowing how much it would turn her on.

Y/N gasped, “Alastor!” She looked up to meet his eyes, blushing profusely.

Alastor let out a laugh, “apologies, darling.” he continued to rub soap onto the contents of her body. After washing her front, he washed her backside. Then, he began to massage her neck and shoulders. She moaned in pleasure, causing him to smirk. “Enjoying yourself, love?” he asked teasingly.

Y/N laughed softly, “Does it not show?” she asked sarcastically. Alastor grinned, stepping closer and pressing his lips against hers. Y/N wrapped her arms around his waist, holding him close.

Alastor broke the kiss, resting his forehead against hers. “I want you,” he whispered. Y/N smiled, leaning in for another kiss. Alastor moved his hands from her shoulders to her hips. He pushed her against the wall, using his strength to hold her there.

Alastor pulled back, looking down at what was happening. His cock was fully erect, sticking straight out like a sword. He smirked and rubbed the tip against her slit.

“Alastor…I’m still a little sensitive from last night…” Y/N worried.

He scoffed, “You’ll be okay darling, I’ll be gentle.” Then, Alastor pushed his cock inside of her in one thrust.

Y/N slapped his shoulder, hissing, “You said you’d be gentle!”

He hushed her, kissing her collarbone, “We just need to be quick dear, yes?” He then suckled on her collarbone after pulling away.

“Wait…why?” Y/N asked.

He groaned and pulled away once again, beginning to thrust slowly, “Because Nifty is supposed to come in and clean in about…” he looked at the picket watch on the counter, “…hm, ten minutes? maybe less.” He smirked and sped up his pace slightly, causing her to grip tightly onto his forearms.

Alastor kissed along her jawline, then made his way back to her lips. The sound of the running water drowned out any sounds that may have been coming from their mouths.

As if on cue, there was a knock on the bathroom door. “Sir?” Nifty called from outside. Alastor pulled away quickly, cursing harshly under his breath. “I have to clean your room early because Charlie is beginning an activity soon…should i give you time in the shower, Sir?”

Y/N groaned, burying her head into the junction of his shoulder, “You can’t be this fucking old to forget Charlie’s plans-“

“Of course, Nif, I’ll be out in a jiffy!” Alastor immediately shoved himself back into Y/N, thrusting violently.

She gasped loudly, gripping tighter onto his forearms. Her legs wrapped around his waist, locking him in place.

Catching her volume, she moaned pathetically quiet, grinding her hips into his. “Faster, please..faster…” she whimpered. Alastor obliged, slamming his cock deeper into her cunt. Y/N groaned, arching her back and hoping for the best the shower’s water was muffling her noises.

Alastor, although, was practically overjoyed could hear her cries even through the sound of rushing water. He picked up speed, pounding harder and harder into her. Y/N squealed, digging her nails into his arms.

He grunted, “Darling, you’re going to leave marks.”

She moaned, “You wanna talk about m-mine?”

His thrusts became erratic as he neared his release. Y/N wrapped her legs tighter around his waist, squeezing every muscle she had left in her legs.

“Shit.” Alastor cursed, thrusting deeper and deeper into her. He slammed into her cervix once more, causing her to squeeze around his cock tightly. He held himself deep inside of her as he filled her womb with cum, groaning in ecstasy.

After a moment of catching each other’s breaths, both failing miserably, he pulled out, “That’s better.” He patted her cheek, setting her down on the ground after seeing that she would refuse to stand on her feet, and turned to turn off the water. He dried himself off and put on his robe, quickly ruffling his hair in a towel and tossing it.

He turned to see Y/N sitting in the shower’s tub, rubbing her hips, “Darling? You need any help getting out?” Alastor walked over to her and bent down, titling his head to the side like talking to a mindless toddler.

Y/N took a moment and sighed, switching the water to go through the bath faucet, and turned on the water to the hottest temperature, “just tell Nifty to skip the bath tub while she cleans.”

Alastor chuckled, “will do.” and turned to leave the bathroom

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

BONUS ☆♪

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

300 words

Nifty hummed to herself as she tidied up the bedroom, her cheerful demeanor contrasting with the unknowingly steamy scene that had just unfolded in the bathroom.

As she finished straightening the sheets, Nifty heard the sound of the bathroom door opening. She glanced up to see Alastor emerging, fully dressed in his signature attire, with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

“Good morning, Nifty,” Alastor greeted her with a smile.

“Morning, Sir,” Nifty replied, eyeing him curiously. “Is everything alright? You seem, um, a little off today?”

Alastor chuckled, a playful twinkle in his eye. “Oh, everything’s just fine, my dear Nifty. Just had a little… unexpected delay in the bathroom.”

Nifty raised an eyebrow, but decided not to pry further. After all, she was used to Alastor’s cryptic comments and eccentricities. “Well, if there’s anything you need, just let me know.”

“Actually, there is one thing,” Alastor said, his smile widening. “Could you do me a favor and skip cleaning the bathtub today? Y/N is… not done with her bathing. A little sore. I’m sure she’ll clean up after herself so don’t bother to wait or come back for when she’s done.”

Nifty’s eye widened in understanding, and she couldn’t suppress a giggle. “Consider it done.”

“Thank you, Nifty. You’re a gem,” Alastor said with a wink before sauntering out of the room, leaving Nifty to finish her cleaning with a knowing smile.

As she worked, Nifty couldn’t help but feel a sense of amusement at the antics of her eccentric employer and his mysterious guest. It was just another day in the Hazbin Hotel, after all.

¸¸♬·¯·♩¸¸♪·¯·♫¸¸¸♬·¯·♩

END NOTES: This is even more rushed but do i give a fuck? Heck’s nah. Guys ty for the support in my past posts and thank you to people who have already sent WRITING REQUESTS!!! (I love y’all). Stay tuned, yah??? Notes, Submissions, and support in general is always appreciated :3 And credits to @alastorssimp for requesting this lovely fic!!

-Lynn

¸¸♬·¯·♩¸¸♪·¯·♫¸¸¸♬·¯·♩

Masterlist link

[bumblesimagines]

A Burning Hill

Prequel

Request: Yes or No

Summary: Ever since he's known (Y/N), Vander's had the biggest crush on him. Who knew the Hound of the Underground was such a softie?

Pronouns: He/Him/His, M!Reader

CW/TW: Typical Arcane warnings, young!Vander being smitten, fluff, sexual content

~~~

The bell atop the door jingled, signaling the last drunk customer had finally managed to make his way out into the drizzling streets of the Lanes. Vander watched the door slide shut behind the regular, muffling the shouts and bustle of the Undercity and leaving the bar momentarily quiet.

He set the rag down on the counter and gently wiped at the circular water stain left behind by one of the cups. A smile tugged at his lips when, a beat later, a familiar mellow rock song began flowing from the jukebox pressed against the wall. 

"Don'tcha ever get tired of the same old songs, Fel?" Vander asked with a soft chuckle, his gaze raising to watch his dear friend sway her hips along to the music. His eyes lowered to the barely visible bump showing through her dress, and he felt his heart squeeze with affection. He couldn't wait to meet the rascal growing in her belly. Little Violet. "You're gonna drive your brother crazy one of these days."

Felicia laughed, airy and warm. "I already do."

"I bet you wish you could be the one driving him crazy," Silco mumbled teasingly, the corners of his eyes crinkling when he flickered them up to gauge Vander's reaction. The tip of his pencil tapped twice against his paper, a soft chuckle shaking his shoulders before he resumed his writing. 

"W-What makes you say that?" Vander's face warmed, and he rubbed the rag into the wood harder despite it being as shiny and polished as possible. 

"Oh, please, Vander," Felicia giggled, her fingers gently gripping the skirt of her dress to lift it slightly as she sat on the barstool. She braced her arms against the table, lips slightly jutting out when he placed a cup of plain ole juice in front of her. "Everyone sees how you look at him. You should ask him out already. He won't bite."

"Well," Silco sucked his teeth and reached for his glass of red wine, swirling it a few times. "I've seen him bite before. Twice, actually." 

Felicia rolled her eyes, reaching over to playfully bump her fist into his shoulder. "He won't bite hard." She corrected herself and lowered her head to slurp on the straw in her drink. She swallowed the orange juice in her cheeks, her nails tapping against the counter in contemplation. "I think he likes you."

It was pathetic, honestly. He was a grown man in his thirties acting like a teenage boy experiencing his first crush. 

Vander's eyes shot up to look at her and then darted away in embarrassment when Silco and Felicia snickered. The tips of his ears warmed, undoubtedly turning a soft shade of pink that matched the rest of his face.

Vander had never known a feeling like the one that filled him since the moment he first laid eyes on the feisty man Felicia lovingly called 'brother'. The world stopped spinning whenever they locked eyes, and an electric filling always fluttered through his body when they brushed against each other.

"I'll clean it-"

The bell jingled again, and he cleared his throat, preparing to call out to the person that they were unfortunately closed, but his words came to a screeching halt at the sight of (Y/N) standing by the doors.

He pushed his hood back and let the door rattle shut behind him as he walked further into the bar toward them, leaving a trail of raindrops that dripped from his clothes. He glanced down at them. 

"Don't worry about it." Vander dismissed with a shake of his head, pointedly ignoring the amused grins Silco and Felicia exchanged. "Can I get ya anythin'? Whiskey? Ale?" He shot Felicia a quick glare when she snickered into her fist. 

"I'm good," (Y/N) replied, the corners of his lips twitching up into a faint smile that made Vander's throat tighten and his knees wobbly. "Thanks."

"You shouldn't be walking around in the rain, (Y/N)." Felicia chasitied, brushing away raindrops from his jawline.

(Y/N) slipped his notebook out from his jacket and set it beside Silco's journal, one arm draping around Silco's shoulders as he flipped it open to show him a new design. Felicia reached toward him, curling her fingers around his wet sleeve.

"What do you think of these?" He asked, barely batting an eye when Felicia tugged him toward her so she could plant a kiss on his temple. 

(Y/N) swatted gently at her hand and scowled. "I'm not five anymore."

"You'll always be five to me." She smiled tenderly, her fingers wrapping around his jaw so she could smush his cheeks until his lips puckered slightly.

"Ugh."

"Are these hoverboards?" Silco questioned suddenly, his head tilted as he looked over the design in (Y/N)'s notebook.

Vander chuckled and braced his arms against the counter, unable to pull his eyes away from (Y/N) as he stripped himself free of his wet jacket and set it over one of the barstools to dry. He trailed his eyes down from his face and over the torn fabric where the sleeves of his shirt were supposed to start before they dropped to linger over his now bare arms.

He wanted desperately to reach out and run his fingers along his soft skin, to tug him close to his chest and bury his face in his neck until he suffocated on the faint smell of oil that always clung to him. 

"Yeah." (Y/N) tugged himself free from his sister to slink back to Silco's side, his eyes tracing the sketches and scribbled notes. "There's something about them that's missing, though. I can't figure it out."

"Hm... what if-"

"Will you guys ever talk about anything other than crafting things?" Felicia asked after another gulp of juice, her fingertips wiping away the dribble from the corner of her mouth. She cocked her head and lifted her brows expectantly. "C'mon, you guys need to relax. I've never seen either of you dance."

"You know I have two left feet, Fel. I can't dance," (Y/N) responded, propping his arm up on Silco's shoulder and watching intently as Silco added his own notes to the pages. "I suck at it."

"Oh, I doubt it," Vander mumbled quietly and felt the heat return to the nape of his neck when (Y/N)'s eyes flickered toward him. He cleared his throat and scratched the side of his neck, his back straightening up and gaze averting to stare down at the counter. "I mean, c'mon.. you're a good fighter, good at gettin' around the city rooftops. You jus' need some practice, is all. I could, uh... teach ya, maybe."

"I-" Felicia pressed her palms flat on the counter and hopped off her barstool, her mouth twisted up wickedly. "-should head back home."

(Y/N) rested his head against his open hand, his head tilting ever so slowly until his palm covered his mouth where his lips had curled up into a small smile. Vander caught the end of it and felt his heart flutter, his slightly widened eyes jumping back to Felicia, who quirked a brow as if to say, 'I told you so.'

The giddiness that filled his veins was embarrassing, but all he could focus on was the possibility of (Y/N) liking him back.

"I'll walk you." Silco offered abruptly, flipping his journal shut and tucking it into his satchel with a hint of mischief twinkling in his eyes. 

Before either of the two men could say anything, the two hurried out of the bar and into the drizzling streets. (Y/N) blinked repeatedly at the closing doors, his lips pressed into a confused line. With the record Felicia had put on coming to an end, the bar fell into a semi-awkward silence, only disturbed by the soft pattering of rain hitting the windows.

Vander, somewhat hesistantly, pushed himself off the counter and stepped out from behind the bar to approach the jukebox. "Alright." He stuck a hand into the pocket of his pants in search of a coin to slide into the slot.

"I was serious, Van." He loved the nickname. "I'm really bad at dancing. Connol tried to teach me once, and I bruised his foot." 

Shuffling through the options, he settled on one of the songs he enjoyed listening to on slower days when he simply wanted to relax. He loved rock and metal, anything with a quick and heartpumping tempo to get some adrenaline flowing. But nobody could pry the alluring calmness of jazz from his hands, especially on a rainy day.

He watched the record settle and soon, the sound of a piano playing and a vevelty voice began flowing into the room. He took a deep breath and turned around. 

"I can take a little pain, (Y/N)."

(Y/N) grinned, his head turning up toward the strung-up gauntlets. "I know that."

"You got this," Vander murmured reassuringly, lightly digging his fingers into his side. 

With his heart thumping in his ears, Vander gingerly took (Y/N)'s hands into his, relishing the feeling of dragging his fingers over his skin as he set one hand on his shoulder and curled his fingers around his palm. He settled his other hand over (Y/N)'s hip and gently nudged him closer, leaving little space between their chests.

(Y/N)'s head tilted up, gazing into his eyes first and then glancing down at his lips before he shyly dipped his head to stare at their shoes instead. 

"There you go." Vander smiled and took a step back to spin (Y/N), his smile stretching when (Y/N)'s laughter filled his ears. "Attaboy, you're a natural."

Slowly, they moved along with the song with quiet, nearly whispered instructions from Vander. Every so often, (Y/N) would accidentally step on the front of his boots and let out a winced apology, but the feeling barely registered in Vander's head.

He was on cloud nine.

Each time (Y/N) unconsciously squeezed his shoulder or hand, it sent an electric feeling through his body that left him holding his breath until his grip softened again. 

(Y/N) rolled his eyes playfully and moved back toward him, their chests bumping. Vander swore his head filled with white noise when he realized (Y/N) wasn't planning on putting distance between them. Their bodies swayed for a few more seconds until they slowly came to a stop, the end of the song being signaled with a soft click from the jukebox.

Vander's hand released (Y/N)'s to tentatively cup his cheek, a little exhale escaping his lips when (Y/N) leaned into his touch. He trailed his thumb over his cheekbone and down to his lips, his fingerpad pressing gently into his bottom lip until it pulled back to reveal his teeth. His heart rammed against his ribcage, leaving him feeling lightheaded as he dipped down until their lips brushed. He hesitated, fleeting worry crossing his mind. 

"Van," (Y/N) laughed softly.

"You want this?" Vander asked quietly, tilting his head to press their foreheads together and peering into his eyes. His thumb stroked his cheek tenderly, savoring the moment in case it got ruined by a mistep. "'Cause I do, (Y/N). I want this and more. I want so much more, sweetheart."

(Y/N)'s lips twitched into a little smile. "More?" He inquired, one hand wrapping around Vander's wrist while the one on his shoulder slid toward his neck to toy with the dark brown waves on the back of his head.

Vander swallowed, suddenly feeling much more vulnerable than he liked, but he steeled himself enough to speak. "I.. I want to go on dates.. with you. I.. I want us to live together downstairs in my place. I want- I want to kiss you whenever I want, touch you whenever I want.." He ghosted his lips over his cheek and lightly nipped at his earlobe, his voice low when he spoke next. "Fuck you whenever I want."

(Y/N)'s smile widened into a small grin, his face burning enough for Vander to feel it against his palm. "Yeah?"

"Yeah." 

A hum came from the back of (Y/N)'s throat, his fingers curling and scratching lightly against Vander's scalp. "Why didn't you say something sooner, big guy?" He leaned forward ever so slightly to brush their noses together, teasing. 

"Thought you weren't into me."

"Vander," (Y/N) laughed again, the sound making Vander's heart swell. "You're the Hound of the Underground. You're the man who's going to lead Zaun into a brighter future and show Topside we're just as worthy of them, if not more. You're the strongest, most passionate fighter I've ever met. You're everyone's dream guy, Van. You're, like, the hottest man in all of Zaun." 

Vander's brows raised, a smirk toying on his lips. "Go on, tell me more." 

"Oh, shut up," (Y/N) snorted softly, releasing Vander's wrist to smack his chest lightly.

Huffing out a deep chuckle, Vander's arms wrapped securely around his waist, pulling him tighter against his body before finally closing the distance. There was something about having (Y/N) melt into his arms that made his head spin.

(Y/N) was all rough edges and heated words, a man used to fighting fire with fire who always showed up at the Last Drop with bruised knuckles and a scowl. Hearing him laugh so freely, smile, and tease without hesitation did things to Vander. 

Especially now, feeling his mouth on his, soft and gentle and almost shy. Vander wanted him as close as humanly possible, wanted to engraine the taste of his tongue and the feeling of his hands roaming his broad shoulders into his head so he'd never forget.

His palm pressed along (Y/N)'s back, dragging down and squeezing him through his pants experimentally. There was a muffled, flustered giggle against his lips, and he smiled. He gripped the back of (Y/N)'s thighs and parted from him to heave him up onto his shoulder. 

Gently, he set (Y/N) back down and nudged open the door leading into his bedroom, shutting the door behind them as (Y/N) observed the room. It was fairly small, just enough for all his personal belongings. There was a lamp set against a wooden desk filling the room with a warm, orange glow that he considered inviting, but he eyed (Y/N) carefully to gauge his reaction. (Y/N) ran his fingers along the metal footboard, his mouth curling up.

(Y/N) let out a half-squeal half-laugh, his hands scrambling to grab at the back of Vander's shirt to steady himself. His body slumped over Vander's shoulder, and Vander softened. (Y/N) trusted him just as blindly as Vander trusted him.

He'd seen (Y/N) flinch away from hands, glare and shove when someone reached for him unprompted. But there he was, giggling like a kid as Vander hauled him downstairs to the lower level of the bar. 

"You'll have to make space in the closet, but I think I can work with this." (Y/N) plopped down on the mattress, his hand running over the soft blanket. His eyes lifted to meet Vander's stare. "It's about time I give Felicia and Connol their space."

Vander blinked, his breath catching for a moment. "You serious?"

"'Course, Van." (Y/N) grinned and leaned back on his hands. "You better not bring me flowers, though. I swear-" 

Vander barely paid attention to the rest of his words. His legs moved automatically toward him, thumping softly against the floor until he reached (Y/N). He cupped his face and swooped down to kiss him again, this time harder than the first.

(Y/N) fisted the collar of his shirt and tugged him closer, pulling at his shirt until Vander loomed over him with his arms braced on either side of his head. Vander ghosted kisses over his cheek and down to his neck, immediately latching onto his skin when (Y/N) tilted his head to grant him more access. 

A shiver ran through his body as (Y/N)'s hands dipped beneath his shirt, fingers delicately running over old and new scars from countless fights he'd gotten into over the years. His wrists pushed the shirt up until it bunched around his chest, a breathy sigh slipping past (Y/N)'s lips when Vander nipped lightly at the new mark on his neck before he leaned back.

The bed creaked softly beneath his knees when he sat up on them and tugged his shirt over his head, chuckling huskily at the way (Y/N)'s eyes lit up. 

"Don't be mean." He breathed.

(Y/N)'s knee bumped against his hip, pushing Vander to roll over and sit on the bed, which prompted another squeak from the bedframe. The weight of (Y/N) settling on his lap made his heart skip a beat, his pants growing frustratingly tight.

A hand pushed at his shoulder, and he lied back eagerly, grey eyes watching (Y/N) as he moved in whatever way he wanted. (Y/N) grinned and gave him a chaste kiss, the whine of complaint that formed in Vander's throat rapidly shifting into a low groan when (Y/N) grinded right over his crotch. 

"You like when I'm mean, Van." 

Vander hummed agreeably, fingers coming to rest over (Y/N)'s hips and lightly pushing him down for a harder grind. He hissed a curse through clenched teeth and then jutted out his lip in a slight pout, curiously watching (Y/N) slip over his thighs.

He sucked in a sharp breath, the clinking of his belt being fiddled with reaching his ears. (Y/N) shimmied Vander's pants and briefs down his thighs until they slipped down the rest of his legs. Vander kicked them off fully, pressing the front of his feet into the back of his boots to rid himself of them too. 

"You wanted this." He could hear the smirk in (Y/N)'s voice. "C'mon, Van, you can handle it."

His hips bucked at the feeling of fingers wrapping around him, his arm coming up to drape over his eyes and hopefully hide the hard flush over his cheeks. "Fuck." His chest was threatening to burst from his chest.

Now, he really felt like a teenage boy.

(Y/N) dragged his thumb over the slit, smearing pre along his shaft as he moved his hand tantizliing slow. "You're gonna drive me crazy, darlin'." 

Vander was beginning to think he couldn't handle it, not with the way his hips stuttered, and another groan was tugged forcibly from his throat at the feeling of lips wrapping around him. He tried evening out his breathing, tried reminding himself this wasn't the first time he'd been touched, but (Y/N) lightly squeezed the base and flattened his tongue over a vein, and Vander swore he was going to have a heart attack.

He'd always been vocal in bed, but the noises (Y/N) dragged out of him with each bob of his head were new and downright pathetic for a man of his age. The vibrations from a mischievous, muffled giggle went right up his spine, and he was fairly certain he heard the soft rip from where his other hand roughly held the sheets beneath them. Sweat formed along his hairline and he brushed it away with his forearm before reaching down to grab at (Y/N)'s shoulder.

The wet pop! and string of saliva connecting his twitching length to (Y/N)'s bottom lip nearly made him choke on his breath. A puff of air escaped (Y/N)'s lungs when Vander practically tossed him onto his back, his eyes blinking rapidly at the bigger man before he grinned again as Vander nearly ripped the pants off his legs. He helped Vander in shedding his shirt and freeing his feet of his shoes, his gaze glittering with anticipation. 

Vander reached over to his nightstand, clumsily feeling for the drawer before he yanked it open and almost made the nightstand topple in the process. He retrieved a small, pretty emereld colored glass flacon from the drawer and spread the cool liquid inside long his fingers before setting it aside again and nudging (Y/N)'s legs further apart. (Y/N)'s breathing quickened and then briefly halted as Vander pressed one thick digit to his entrance. 

"Relax, love," Vander tenderly massaged his thigh with his other hand. "I'll take care of ya, promise." 

(Y/N)'s shoulders slumped back along the pillows, his grin shifting into a little smile. Vander couldn't help but lean down and kiss him stupid, pushing and prodding until his finger popped inside to the knuckle. (Y/N) shuddered and squeezed around him, panting against Vander's mouth.

Once he managed to calm himself and relax again, Vander slowly pushed further and then pulled back, mimicking the action and quickening when (Y/N)'s head lolled back in pleasure. 

Tentaively, he added a second finger and eventually a third, saliva collecting in his mouth from the mere sight of (Y/N) trembling and moaning beneath him. He'd dreamt of this day for ages, fisted his length numerous times to the idea, and now he finally had him.

He tugged his fingers out, teeth digging into his bottom lip as he rolled (Y/N) over onto his stomach. His hand grabbed the fat of his hip and held him, lightly squeezing him soothingly. 

"Gods," Vander's thighs quivered immediately the moment he pushed inside, the sensation of the intrusion naturally making (Y/N) clench and squeeze around him. "Breathe, love, breathe."

He wasn't sure if he was talking to (Y/N) or himself, but he nonetheless took in a deep breath to ground himself before he could lose his mind.

"You-" His nostrils flared with an inhale. "You alright, sweetheart?"

He'd die before he could even consider causing (Y/N) a lick of pain, so despite the way his body trembled and twitched with the desire to rock forward, he kept a steady, slow pace as he nudged and pushed the rest of the way in.

(Y/N) buried his face in one of the pillows, his fingers curling until the old pillowcase was crinkled in his hands. Vander's eyes nearly rolled to the back of his head once he bottomed out, a bit of saliva threatening to slip from the corner of his lips. 

"Wanna hear ya, darlin'." He huffed into his ear. 

(Y/N)'s response came in a muffled noise akin to a whine that left him with a wheezy laugh. He lowered down, mindful of not putting his full weight on top of him, and gently grinding their hips together.

He drew back slightly and pushed forward, repeating the action until there was a gentle rhythm to his thrusts and the headboard was smacking against the wall. He kept on arm braced against the bed and snaked the other one beneath (Y/N)'s shoulder to wrap his fingers under (Y/N)'s jaw, lifting his head off the pillows. 

"Attaboy," Vander chuckled. 

His pace quickened in the slightest, the moans and whimpers flowing from (Y/N)'s mouth sounding better than any song he'd ever heard before. Vander's resolve quickly began to dissipate when he felt (Y/N) begin to push his hips back to meet his short thrusts, the sound of skin slapping on skin growing and mixing with the heavy creaking of the bed.

He slid his knees up and raised (Y/N)'s hips simultaneously, the new angle seemingly hitting just the right spot because a moment later, (Y/N) tightened and cursed before turning like putty in his hands. 

Satisfied and with an ego steadily inflating, he leaned back fully on his knees and pawed at (Y/N)'s hips with both hands, momentarily pausing his thrusts to fully regain his balance. He drew back halfway, eyes fixated intently on where they were connected, before he drew (Y/N)'s hips back right as he jerked his hips forward. The sight alone made it hard to breathe, and his head lolled back in pure bliss as he gave in to his desires.

Strings of shameless moans, heaves, grunts, and even whimpers escaped him, his fingers digging into (Y/N)'s hips hard enough it'd likely leave bruises. 

His thighs shook with effort and pleasure, and before he knew it, he was almost toppling over onto him with a guttural, near-cry-like groan as his release struck him like a punch. Vander huffed out breaths and moved onto his side, log-like arms cradling (Y/N) close to his chest while he peppered tired kisses along his shoulder.

"Mm," (Y/N) laughed breathily and leaned back into him, his hand running over Vander's to entwine their fingers. "Maybe."

His hips continued to sluggishly rut into him, delighting in each soft sigh and quiet gasp. "You're gonna be the death of me, ain'tcha?" He murmured into the curve of his neck.

Vander was fairly certain he'd died and gone to heaven because nothing in the world could beat the euphoria in his body. 

The Last Drop's full to the brim with regulars, friends, and family who'd faithfully gathered to witness the official union between him and (Y/N). Not even the meetings to plan out their next attack on power-tripping Enforcers managed to bring so many Zaunites together.

Benzo tended to the bar for him, pouring out drinks and coaxing tips out of the drunkards while Silco helped by cleaning glasses. Sevika sat at one of the booths with a gaggle of Zaunites around watching her go against Mod and Renni in a game of poker. He assumed, based on the smug smirk on her face and the scowl on Renni's, she was winning.

His eyes roamed the packed bar until they affectionately settled on Felicia and Connol, who sat at the table with (Y/N). Connol held their little girl, Violet, in his arms. She was a cute thing, wiggly and curious, but she'd recently entered a phase where she bit anything that got near her mouth.

He watched in amusement as she clamped the few teeth she had into her father's arm and then blinked innocently up at him. (Y/N)'s shoulders shook with a laugh, and he ruffled the strands of magneta hair on her head. Felicia giggled, her palms rubbing over her swollen belly. Another girl, she was certain of it.

"I'd like to start by sayin' my thanks to everyone here. We've had a couple rough years here in Zaun, but that'll soon be a thing of the past." He paused and chuckled at the cheers and nods that followed. "But, this ain't 'bout our fight for what we deserve, not this speech at least. This is 'bout the man who has tolerated me for the past four years and has agreed to tolerate me for many more years to come." 

Clearing his throat, he tapped the microphone in front of him and sent Benzo a thankful nod when he stepped out from behind the bar to stop the jukebox. Most turned their heads toward him, a few lifting their cups to give little cheers and whoops before everyone settled down into a surprising silence.

Vander turned his attention back to (Y/N), a devious grin spreading across his lips. (Y/N) squinted at him playfully.

(Y/N) blinked, eyes darting to each face that teasingly turned in his direction before he raised his glass and subtly hid his face by taking a sip. A laugh rumbled in Vander's chest, love swelling so heavily in his heart that his cheeks were beginning to hurt by how hard he was smiling. "The moment I set my eyes on him, I knew he'd ruined me for anyone else. There was no way I'd feel what I feel for this man for anyone else. So, thank you for that, love." Vander winked, snickering under his breath at (Y/N)'s eye roll. 

"I won't talk anyone's ear off, promise. I jus' wanted to make a toast to my ass-kickin' husband and to the future of Zaun." He raised his cup, watching the wave of arms sticking up into the air with cups tightly gripped in their fingers. "To many more years together, love, and to the freedom of Zaun from Piltover's tyranny!" 

"The sappy vows weren't enough?" He asked, despite the affection dripping from his voice, his body naturally slotting against Vander's as if they were puzzle pieces. "Vika will never let me live this down, you know."

The bar quickly filled with cries of agreement, and Vander swallowed the whiskey in his cup, smacking his lips and laughing heartily. Hands patted his back and shoulders as he made his way through the crowd toward his husband, his eyes crinkling immediately at the sight of him already watching him.

He settled down beside him, one arm instinctly sliding along the back of his chair. (Y/N) leaned over, pressing his lips to the corner of his mouth and lightly pinching his side. 

"Good." Vander nuzzled his nose into his temple, his palm coming up to press against (Y/N)'s cheek and stroke his cheekbone. "Now all of Zaun knows you're all mine, jus' as I'm all yours. You're never gettin' rid of me, love. I can promise you that."