#watched the canes game too to keep an eye on him

[hunterrrs]

mood but also… give him back

[sunflowersandsapphires]

In His Element

pairing: Matt Murdock x fem!reader 

summary: After watching Matt cross examine a witness, your patience is worn thin, leaving you to plead with the devil.

warnings: SMUT. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT. fingering, brief masturbation, descriptions of fem genitalia, dom!Matt's filthy mind, and also him being so attractive

a/n: THIS IS MY FIRST EVER SMUT THAT WASN'T GHOST WRITTEN SO IT MIGHT NOT BE GREAT. I am going to keep practicing for y'all though! As always, please comment/reblog and leave me feedback if you desire :)

w/c: 3.5k

With clammy fingers, you smoothed your wrinkled skirt until it lay flat over your knees, crossing your ankles under the pew you were seated in. In your haste to find a seat before the trial resumed, you’d landed directly below an A/C vent, which was blowing a harsh current over you. The hair along your limbs stood on end, your heart pumping your blood in smaller loops, leaving your extremities to slowly wither. It should’ve been uncomfortable, but you were far too focused on the heat churning in your gut as your eyes followed your partner’s pacing form.

Hands stacked loosely over the handle of his cane, Matt’s head tilted slightly as he prepared to ask the prosecution’s witness a question. He was facing away from you, but you could imagine the exact emotionless-yet-somehow-haughty expression that graced his face. It was one of the attributes of your boyfriend’s stoic appearance that emerged behind the courtroom doors that you found mind-numbingly attractive.

“Officer Bauer,” Matt’s voice sent a shudder down your spine. Though the man wore a literal mask most nights, he had a variety of metaphorical personality-masks that suited various environments—his everyday polite demeanor, the protective and concerned boyfriend that always surfaced whenever you were threatened or hurt, and, notably, the serious, calculating attorney persona he adopted during his trials.

Biting your tongue to freeze your body in place, you inhaled slowly, trying not to draw attention to yourself. A quick glance to the jury confirmed that you were not the only one entranced by the dark-haired man as he strode back and forth, a few feet in front of the witness stand. He had you all captivated.

Shifting his weight to his heels, Matt was angled enough that you could see the innocent smile he directed at the man sweating on the stand. “Can you tell me what you were doing at the corner of 52nd and 8th on the afternoon of Thursday, March 6th?”

A simple question, innocuous enough that the callous man he was questioning let out an indignant scoff as he answered. ”Patrolling.“

You rolled your eyes at his single word response, his disdain for the judicial process evident in his slouched posture and bored tone. He was practically falling asleep in the worn leather chair, his half-lidded eyes trained on Matt like a dazed serpent. The man looked foul and, from the little that Matt had told you, his personality matched.

Despite the apathetic participant he was dealing with, Matt remained calm and composed. His smile widened marginally, revealing a flash of his pristine teeth as he huffed in amusement.

"Of course. And when you were on patrol you noticed the defendant amongst a group of young adults. Is that correct?"

Your chest was convulsing as your heart pounded from your rib cage. Matt was exceptionally intelligent and had explained his tactic for cross-examining this inattentive cop, but that didn't make it any less suspenseful as you watched his game of cat and mouse play out before your very eyes.

The officer's slitted eyes wandered to the ceiling as he sighed. "Yeah."

"Can you describe the group to me?" Matt lifted his shoulders as he posed the question, not quite shrugging, but definitely indicating that, while he believed the leathery-skinned witness had not yet satisfied his curiosity.

“Buncha kids. Messin around.” Four words rather than one. That was progress, right? Akin to the marble rolling down a track at the beginning of a complex Rube Goldberg machine. The task was far from accomplished, but there was motion somewhere within the structure.

“And, as your partner stated earlier, most of the kids were white, is that correct?” The first hint of something substantial. You pressed your lips together, holding in a smile as your mind started to piece together the rocky, cobblestone path your boyfriend was laying for his uncooperative witness.

“Yes.”

“What encouraged you and your partner to approach the defendant and other students in the park?” Tone laced with what sounded like genuine curiosity, Matt raised a brow at the arresting officer. His ability to color his voice in a way that would appeal to the jury never ceased to amaze you.

“We got news of a nearby break in, and they were actin' suspicious.”

At this point, you were pretty much tuning the lazy cop out—waiting for Matt to open his mouth again, to speak in the beautifully deep, almost hoarse way he always did when defending his clients. His words were direct, controlled in the same manner his general conduct was, his anger and need for justice hidden behind an expressionless facade.

It was intoxicating, his ability to hold back. Almost as divine as his ability to let go.

“Can you describe these suspicious activities for the court?”

Fidgeting with a loose thread on the hem of your skirt, you let Matt's voice drape over you like a wool blanket on a winter night. Comforting, warm, and a tad prickly. Only ears as finely tuned to the man's peculiarities could pick up the barbed edge of his questioning—thousands of serrated teeth waiting to ensnare the animal as soon as it was within their grasp. Knowing how talented your partner was in his field, that moment wasn't far away.

The chair creaked as the cop shifted with a hefty shrug. “Ya know, talkin' all low to each other, shovin' things in their bags while lookin' over their shoulder...” He trailed off, mashing a fist against his nose with an awful throat clearing sound.

“And, while on your patrol, you noticed the group acting this way.” More of a statement than a question. Matt was closing in.

“Yea, that’s what I just said.” The cop snorted, completely unaware of the brutal fate that awaited him.

“So you and your partner decided to intervene?” Matt reasoned aloud. He was pacing again. Your attention had been solely on his voice, not his footsteps.

“Course that’s our job.” The ignorant man to the right of the judge shifted again in his seat, his frustration visibly growing as Matt continued to hurl benign and repetitive questions at him.

“And when you exited your vehicle, what happened?” Matt asked.

“They took off.” Bauer answered, irritated.

“On foot?” Matt clarified.

“Yes.” The witness rubbed forcefully at the bridge of his nose again.

“And it’s true that my client left with them?” Gesturing softly to the young woman seated at the defense's table to indicate to the room who his client was, in case they needed a reminder.

 “Yes.” Bauer confirmed.

“So the entire group dispersed on foot?” Matt asked with an air of confusion. His rumbling baritone lifting on the tail end to indicate his dismay.

“Yep.” Bauer grit his teeth, tiring quickly as Matt persisted.

“At the same time?” Matt asked with the same bewildered look on his face.

“Yes.” His witness growled.

“The same group that was acting in a suspicious manner?” Matt questioned.

“Yes. I just said that.” Voice raising, you could see Bauer's face getting redder by the second.

“Then can you tell me, Officer Bauer, why you and your partner BOTH decided to pursue my client?”

Bauer's eyes flashed with something similar to understanding, his mouth remaining clamped shut as Matt stepped closer, closing in on his prey.

“You’ve previously reported and just now confirmed that the entire group left when they noticed you approaching. Yet you and your partner both were solely focused on my client rather than any of the other members of the group. Tell me, officer, is that because of her race?” Matt's words flew out of his mouth rapidly, a string of poorly concealed accusations within them.

You barely had time to appreciate Matt's ingenuity before the lead prosecutor bolted out of her seat. "Objection, Your Honor, that is clearly leading."

"Sustained. Counselor?" The judge glanced at Matt for his next move.

Holding up a hand, Matt didn't miss a beat. “I’ll rephrase. Officer, what reason did you have for pursuing my client rather than any of the other students?”

"Well, she was acting weird," Bauer stammered, his eyes bulging with fear. He'd spotted the threat then.

“In the same manner as the rest of the group, as you previously stated, all of whom you approached with your partner. Yet both of you ran after my client.”

“Yes.” Nodding cautiously, Bauer's voice was suddenly small.

“And, besides her race, can you give any other reason she stood out to you as more suspicious than the rest of the group?”

“Objection, leading.” The prosecution called out, her voice a bit shrill with desperation.

"Overruled. Mr. Murdock, please continue with your line of questioning." The judge's gaze flitted between the prosecutor and the witness who was now sweating profusely on the stand.

“Thank you, your honor. Officer Bauer, can you explain to the court exactly how my client was acting differently?” Changing the question slightly, Matt's lips twitched with the hint of a smirk.

“I don’t know, she, she just was!” Bauer cried, flustered.

“Is there any other difference between her and the rest of the group that you can explicitly state other than her appearance or her race?” Matt asked, cheeks twitching as he gleefully listened to the snare clasp around its victim.

“No.” Bauer answered. "But, but it wasn't like that!"

Turning to the judge, Matt's spine was straight with satisfaction as he announced his intentions. “Your honor, the defense would like to file a motion to dismiss this case on the grounds of selective enforcement. The combined testimony of Officers Bauer and Burke demonstrates an intent to frisk my client because she was black, not solely because of her actions, negating the principle of reasonable suspicion.”

The courtroom exploded, the witness and prosecution both howling in protest as the defendant and Matt both smirked. Grinning ecstatically, you stifled a laugh as the uproar continued, until the judge finally granted the dismissal. You couldn’t lessen your smile if you tried. 

Flooding out of the courtroom amidst the sea of spectators and journalists, you stepped out of the current as quickly as you could. Craning your neck over the waves of bobbing heads, you broke into a wide grin when you saw Matt trailing after the masses, cane sweeping inches from their ankles like he was chasing them out. As soon as he was within reach, you called his name, eagerly grasping his outstretched hand and tugging him out of the doorway.

“God, Matty, that was incredible.” You exclaimed breathlessly, wrapping him in a tight hug. His forehead landed against your hair, his nose skimming the shell of your ear as he shook with a resonant chuckle.

“Thank you, sweetheart.” He pressed a kiss against your neck, a guttural noise slipping out as he did. “Fuck, you smell so good.”

His words were barely audible, a secret to only be shared with you. They sent another wave of need straight to your core. “Matthew,” You mumbled, his name breaking off into a whine.

Another huff of laughter sounded in your ear. Planting another kiss against your neck, Matt's broad hands squeezed your hips. “My place. Now.”

“What about you?” You murmured, mouth watering as every touch from your boyfriend left a lingering patch of heat along your skin.

“I have a few things to finish up here, but I'll be there when I can. I promise.” You didn't need to hear his heartbeat to feel the honesty in his vow.

The idea of waiting for him made your knees tremble, the joints threatening to buckle as Matt swiped a calloused thumb over the bare skin of your waist, his hand beneath your shirt. “Matty, please.”

Matt shushed you sweetly. “Not here, angel. Be a patient girl for me and I'll make all your pain worth it, I promise.”

With one final squish of your hips, Matt separated from you.

The walk to Matt’s apartment was excruciating. With each step, the throbbing between your legs grew more intense. By the time you’d made it up the stairs and flopped onto his couch, you were practically panting with want. 

Now, you were desperately trying to focus on your book, but the words on the page might as well have been gibberish given how little you'd retained since you started. How were you supposed to manage when the image of Matt's parted lips was branded on the back of your eyelids.

“Be a patient girl for me and I'll make all your pain worth it, I promise.”

Patience was never your strongsuit.

Digging your front teeth into your lip, you dropped your head to the arm of Matt's couch with a thunk, whimpering as your discomfort crested. Blowing out a breath, you clenched the paperback book with vigor, fingernails stabbing the parchment inside, scarring it with tiny crescents. If only this book was Matt's broad back.

He loved when you got a little rough with him. You couldn't help it. As soon as his mouth was on you, your eyes shut, vision blanketed with stars. Your hands would grapple for whatever surface they could find to anchor you as Matt rocked the two of you in tandem, your nails carving scratches into Matt's beautiful, sporadically-freckled skin in the process.

The first time it happened, you'd been horrified. Stammering out an apology and offering to apply antibiotic gel to the red marks, but your boyfriend had just smiled, assuring you that he didn't mind.

“Each of those marks is a reminder that I'm yours, sweetheart.”

Arching your back as Matt's dulcet tone echoed in your ears, the book toppled to the ground with a flutter of pages. Hands wandering over your body, you reminded yourself to be patient.

Matt will be here soon. He will.

But not soon enough. A voice buried somewhere in your subconscious warned, encouraging your primal desires and urging your hands to free the hem of your blouse from where it was tucked beneath the waistband of your skirt. Fingertips trailing over the now-exposed skin of your lower belly, you hummed softly as a ripple of pleasure circled out from your fingertips.

Unbuttoning your skirt, you slowly loosened the fabric enough for your hand to dip under it. Dragging a finger over your panties towards your core, you hissed as it finally reached your delicate clit. The bundle of nerves was overly sensitive after being ignored for so long. Pulling the cotton aside, you pushed your finger between your folds, smiling as it danced over your clit. Circling it carefully with a single finger, you shuddered as your body began to buzz with a familiar thrill.

Rocking your hips into your hand slowly, you could barely hear anything over the blood rushing in your ears—which meant that the slam of a closing door caught you off guard.

Yanking your hand out of your underwear with a yelp, you sat up, frantically jerking your head towards the door.

“I thought I told you to wait for me, sweetheart.” Matt's face was shrouded by an array of shadows, the glint of his malicious smirk tinted red in the light of his living room window.

“I—I was!” You mumbled, arousal seeping into your panties as Matt stalked towards you with a laugh.

“You know I can tell when you're lying, sweets. Want to try that again?”

“Depends,” You retorted, adrenaline reigniting the confidence Matt always brought out in you. “Are you planning on apologizing for being so late?”

Chuckling sinfully, Matt cornered you against the back of the couch, fingers deftly unlooping the fabric of your skirt from the remaining buttons. Leaning down until your lips were practically touching, his mouth glanced against yours as he spoke, ignoring your question. "Do you know how difficult it is to remain coherent when you've clouded the entire courthouse in your scent?"

"W-what?" You stammered, gasping shallowly when Matt's teeth grazed the underside of your jaw, his lips kissing languidly along your neck.

"Did you miss me that much, sweetheart? Wanted me to take you right there on the floor before the jury?" Matt purred, making your cheeks thrum with bashful heat.

"I'm not the only one who wanted that, it seems." You grinned, cupping your hand over the noticeable bulge in his pants. “I can't help it, Matt. Watching you in your element...you're intoxicating. I can't listen to two words out of your mouth without wanting to drag you to the nearest bathroom.”

Palming his cock through the layers he wore, Matt growled into the skin of your neck, nipping at your pulse point. Static ricocheted from the impact, freezing you in place as your thighs flexed.

Shedding you of your skirt, Matt gently caressed the cotton covering your drenched pussy. “Can I—”

“Please,” You begged, choking in a breath before Matt's mouth crashed against yours. His stubble bristled against your skin, the small pinpricks a pleasant contrast to his plush lips. Tearing the remaining clothes from your legs, Matt threw his leg over your torso, encouraging you to fully recline against the leather. One hand cupping the back of your head, the other was splayed across your mound, a single dextrous finger parting your glistening lips.

He tasted like salt, like want. His tongue lapping at you like he needed to swallow you whole, like he couldn't get enough.

His cheeks ruffled as a strangled moan escaped him. “You're this wet for me, sweetheart?”

“All for you.” You panted, the air between you growing thick with feverish heat. “Always for you.”

With a beautiful grin, Matt's finger swiped over your entrance. “You ready?”

Nodding sloppily, you brought your hands up to cup his cheeks, tugging him back to your lips. Mouth colliding with yours, the force became bruising when your body rutted upwards, a jolt of satisfaction striking your every cell as Matt's finger entered you.

You hissed as the familiar pleasant pain washed over you. Arching your back as Matt pumped his digit upwards, you moaned, clapping a hand over your mouth as the sound escaped you. 

Matt chuckled. “No need to be quiet, sweetheart. Tell me how it feels.”

“So g-good, Matty.” You whimpered, every nerve within your folds quivering as Matt dragged his finger out of you, pushing it in again as he scraped his teeth over your neck. You cried out, vision going black as your body strained to find release. Your fingers dug into the silk beneath you, yanking at the sheets.

As your desperation grew, the rest of your limbs faded into numbness, your brain solely focused on the sensations of Matt’s callouses scraping against your walls—as if he was scratching an itch that had been niggling at you for hours. 

Matt hummed against your throat, pressing the pad of his thumb against your clit, making you yelp. The fire within you was out of control, your body drawn taught like the string of a bow. 

Wriggling slightly beneath his touch, your breaths became shallow, your stamina worn thin after watching him in court. You whined, twisting slightly to avoid launching yourself over the alluring edge into heavenly oblivion. 

“So close already, sweets?” He teased, repeatedly strumming the bundle of nerves. 

You moaned in assent, fisting the blankets in your clammy hands. His thick fingers tangled in your hair, giving your locks a tug and drawing a pleased yelp from your mouth. 

“Go on. Come for me.” Matt rasped, his breath fanning over your face. 

The command shoved you over the cliff, your lungs clenching as you stifled a scream. Your tailbone rutted up, your back arching off the mattress. Everything went white, your ears ringing as sheer pleasure coursed through your veins.

Matt was murmuring to you, his words muddled by the blood rushing in your ears. “–at’s my girl. Always such a good girl.” 

Rounding the peak, you collapsed to the mattress, your body trembling viciously. Each beat of your heart shook your rib cage, the motions rippling throughout your limbs. Hands flexing, you hissed as the muscles stretched out of mashed fists. Cupping Matt’s cheeks, you smiled as he eagerly dipped to kiss you. 

“Good?” He asked, the question punctuated by the noise of your lips pulling apart. 

“Fuck, Matty,” You whispered, head still swimming from the influx of oxytocin. “Yes. Yes, it was good. S-so good.” 

Withdrawing his hand from between your legs, Matt cradled you against his chest, brushing a thumb over your nape as your soul re-tethered. Lifting one wobbly leg, you shifted, attempting to throw the leaden weight over him, but Matt gently caught you by the thigh, encouraging you to relax. 

“What about you, love?” You asked, drawing in a harsh breath when Matt’s teeth nipped under your ear, his fingers already spreading your legs again.

“Later.” He huffed, his stiff length falling against your plush hip. “I’m not done with you quite yet.”

Taglist: @marytheweefrenchie @cheshirecat484 @siampie @xxdrixx @gracethyomen @ignore-mp3 @silas-aeiou @screechingphantommaker @spiderstyles04 @paradox-brody-chase @msjb2002 @blue-devil-of-the-lord @pigeonmama @daisy-arien0 @yarrystyleeza

[littlemisscantloveyouback]

August Walker spanking reader for following him on a mission?

And/Or

Henry!Holmes caning reader after acting like a brat in public?

YES YES YES

Stay put.

⚠️: spanking, anger kink [idk], fem!reader x August walker, august yelling at reader, 2nd person pov.

He told you not to go on the mission, but you couldn't help yourself when he found out he was so mad he yelled at you in front of the whole team when you got back to headquarters. You just couldn't take it anymore. You raised your hand and slapped him across the face.

Everyone opened their mouths and shock.

Oh my god did i just slap him?

You thought he looked you in the eye the silence so loud you could hear the birds outside, he dragged you away to his office, he sat you in his chair as he stood over you.

"Whar the fuck why would you embarrass me like that in front of everyone they already think im the little girl of the group, god I fucking hate yo-" he cut you off with his hand over your mouth.

"You're going to go home for the rest of the day, and I swear to God if I see you here, I'm going to punish you harder." After that, he picked you up, gave you his car keys, and put you outside his office. The team looked at you as you stomped out headquarters

Later that day....

You couldn't help but wonder what he meant by 'punish you harder.'' he's never hit you, and he's never been the BDSM type. You continued wondering until you got to your bed and decided to binge and tot in bed until he came home.

After watching almost every boring show on Netflix, you hear the keys jingling in the door.

"Where are you?!" You heard from downstairs

He walked in suddenly, looming over you, his broad shoulders casting a shadow as he crossed his arms. His brows furrowed, and his jaw tightened as he glared down at you.

“You think this is a joke, don’t you?” he said, his voice deceptively calm—too calm. “Disobeying orders, slapping me in front of everyone—everyone—and then stomping out like a spoiled child.”

You blinked up at him, feigning innocence, though you could feel the heat radiating off him. “I said I was sorry,” you drawled, your voice dripping with sarcasm. “And for the record, I wouldn’t have slapped you if you weren’t such a jerk.”

His eyes narrowed. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me.” You tilted your chin up, challenging him. “You yelled at me in front of the whole team like I’m some rookie. Like I’m not capable of handling myself out there.”

“That’s because you’re not,” he shot back, his voice rising. He took a step closer, forcing you to lean back slightly. “You’re reckless, impulsive, and you don’t listen. You could’ve been killed.”

“Well, I wasn’t,” you retorted, crossing your arms defiantly.

He let out a sharp breath, pacing the room as if trying to keep himself in check. “You don’t get it, do you?” he muttered, running a hand through his hair. “You never take anything seriously. I swear you do this just to get under my skin.”

You bit back a smirk, even as you pushed further. “Maybe I do.”

That stopped him. He froze mid-step, turning to face you with an incredulous look. “What did you just say?”

“Maybe I like making you mad,” you said, tilting your head with a bratty grin. “You’re kind of cute when you’re angry.”

His eyes darkened, and in two steps, he was in front of you again, towering over you as you sat on the edge of the bed. “You think this is funny?” he said, his voice low and dangerous.

You shrugged, biting your lip to hide the smile threatening to creep across your face. “A little.”

“God, you are unbelievable.” He leaned down, his hands braced on either side of you, effectively caging you in. “You think this is a game? That pushing me like this won’t have consequences?”

You met his gaze, unflinching, your heart racing but refusing to back down. “What are you going to do about it?” you taunted, your voice soft but laced with challenge.

His eyes locked onto yours, and for a moment, neither of you moved. The tension between you crackled like a live wire, thick and suffocating. His expression was a mix of frustration and something else—something darker, more intense.

“You don’t want to find out,” he growled.

“Maybe I do,” you whispered, the words slipping out before you could stop them.

He stared at you for a long moment, his breathing heavy, his control visibly slipping. “You really want to test me right now?”

You didn’t answer, just gave him that infuriating little smirk that you knew drove him crazy.

Suddenly, he grabbed your chin, tilting your face up to meet his. “You don’t know when to quit, do you?”

“Nope,” you replied, your voice airy as you stared up at him through your lashes.

His thumb brushed over your jaw, his grip firm but not harsh. “You think you can just push me until I snap, and I’ll let you get away with it?”

“Maybe…”

He let out a low, humorless laugh, shaking his head as his face hovered just inches from yours. “You’re playing with fire, sweetheart.”

“Good,” you shot back, leaning in just a little. “Maybe I like the heat.”

The room was silent except for the sound of your shallow breathing, his gaze burning into yours. You could feel the restraint in him, the effort it took for him not to completely lose it. He didn’t move, didn’t say a word—he just watched you, as if waiting to see how far you’d go.

"What did you mean when you said you were going to punish me?" He looked back down at you and got to eye level with you

His grip tightened on your wrist as he leaned in closer, his breath hot against your ear. "You know exactly what I meant," he growled, his voice low and dangerous. "You've been testing me, pushing my buttons, and now you're going to learn what happens when you don't listen."

Before you could protest, he yanked you over his lap, your body landing awkwardly across his thighs. You squirmed, but his hold on you was unyielding. "Stop moving," he snapped, his tone leaving no room for argument. "You need to learn your place."

The first slap landed hard against your ass, the sharp sting radiating through your body. You gasped, your hands instinctively reaching back to protect yourself, but he caught your wrists and pinned them to the small of your back. "No," he said, his voice firm. "You don't get to stop this."

Another slap followed, and then another, each one landing with precision. The pain was intense, but beneath it, an unfamiliar heat began to build, pooling low in your stomach. You bit your lip to stifle a moan, but he noticed.

"Ah, so you like that, do you?" he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Well, we're not done yet."

He released your wrists and slid his hand down the back of your pants, his fingers brushing against the sensitive skin of your ass. You shivered, your body betraying you despite your protests. "Please," you whispered, your voice trembling. "I'll listen, I promise."

"Too late for that," he said, his fingers slipping beneath the waistband of your underwear. He traced a slow, deliberate path down the crease of your ass, his touch both gentle and invasive. "You need to learn to obey, and I'm going to make sure you remember this lesson."

His fingers found their target, sliding into you with a practiced ease. You gasped, your body arching involuntarily against his hand. "That's it," he murmured, his voice dark and commanding. "Take it. But don't you dare come."

The pressure inside you built rapidly, your body begging for release, but he kept his fingers moving with relentless precision, never letting you reach that final peak. "No," he said, his voice a harsh command as you felt yourself teetering on the edge. "Not yet."

You whimpered, your body trembling as the tension coiled tighter and tighter. "Please," you begged, your voice breaking. "I can't—"

"You can," he said, his voice cold and unyielding. "And you will. Because you don't get to decide when this ends. That's my job."

His fingers continued their relentless rhythm, driving you closer and closer to the edge, but always just out of reach. The frustration and desire warred within you, leaving you breathless and desperate. "You're going to learn," he said, his voice a low growl. "And you're going to remember."

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

Did you like it because I loved writing this <3333

[dewdropdinosaur]

Smutmas Day 9 - Egg-Snog

Alastor x Deer Demon! Reader (Third Person POV) Summary: You are a deer demon, and so is he. But what happens when your deerest puns get a little too much fawning over? Warnings: Fingering, cum, use of pet names(cher, my dear), slight sub/dom dynamics if you squint, very obnoxious puns, etc. MDNI, 18+. You are responsible for your own media consumption. Requested by @dragbunstudios Hope you enjoy!

The Hazbin Hotel was anything but calm normally, but tonight, the noise level had reached new heights—or perhaps, new lows. It started innocently enough: Alastor had pranced into the lobby with his usual swagger, his grin sharp enough to cut glass. Y/N, lounging in one of the chairs, twitched their velvety deer ears at the sound of his vintage voice. Alastor had been in a particular mood as for late, much to the annoyance of several other hotel residents, though that never detered him. 

“Ah, Y/N!” Alastor greeted, his red eyes glinting with mischief. “What a deer-lightful surprise to find you here tonight!”

Y/N’s nose twitched, matching his energy effortlessly. “Oh, I’m just trying to stay out of tr-hoof-le. You know how it is.” They flicked their fluffy tail for emphasis.

Angel Dust, perched on the sofa with his legs sprawled dramatically, groaned. “Oh, for Lucifer’s sake, not this again.”

But Alastor was already cackling. “You, stay out of trouble? Fawn-tastic joke, my friend!”

“Oh, it’s no bull,” Y/N countered, leaning forward with a playful smirk. “Unlike you, who’s clearly just stag-ing for attention.”

“HA!” Alastor clapped his hands together. “Touché, my dear! Touché!”

Across the room, Husk muttered into his half-empty bottle of whiskey. “Why don’t you two just get a room already?”

Vaggie slammed her hands on the bar. “Seriously, do we have to listen to this? It’s like watching two sitcom dads try to flirt!”

Charlie, the ever-optimistic hotel owner, giggled behind her hand. “I think it’s adorable!”

Angel Dust rolled his eyes so hard it was a wonder they didn’t pop out of his head. “Adorable, schmadorable. They’ve been dancing around each other like this for weeks. Either they start locking lips, or I’m locking them in a room together until they do!”

“Angel!” Charlie scolded, though her blush betrayed her amusement.

Meanwhile, Y/N and Alastor were still locked in their pun-filled duel. 

“Tell me, Y/N,” Alastor said, leaning casually against his cane. “Are you fawn-d of me, or is this all just a game?”

“Oh, I herd you the first time,” Y/N teased, their nose twitching again. “But maybe you should stop deer-tering me to respond and make a move yourself.”

For a moment, Alastor faltered—not that anyone else would notice. His smile remained intact, but the tiniest twitch of his ear betrayed his surprise. Then he threw back his head and laughed. “A bold challenge! I always love those, cher~”

Husk’s ears flattened against his head, letting out a low whisper from behind his beer bottle. “Kill me now.”

Angel Dust slapped the table with his hand. “Okay, okay, that’s it. If you two don’t kiss by the end of the night, I’m stepping in to make it happen.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow, their lips quirking into a sly grin. “Oh? And how do you plan to do that, Angel?”

“Easy!” Angel Dust leaned forward with a wicked grin. “I’ll make you two the starring act in my next performance—‘The Lusty Antlers of Passion.’ You won’t be able to resist!”

“Angel!” Charlie squeaked, her face as red as a cherry.

Alastor merely chuckled, tapping his cane against the floor. “While I appreciate the offer, Angel, I think Y/N and I can handle things on our own. After all—” He glanced at Y/N with a sly wink. “Good things come to those who wait.”

Y/N tilted their head, their tail swishing. “Well, I’m not one to rush, but I’d hate to keep you pining for too long.”

Alastor’s grin widened, and for once, there was a flicker of genuine warmth behind his crimson eyes. “Then perhaps we should continue this conversation... elsewhere?”

As the two of them strolled out of the lobby, their laughter echoing behind them, Angel Dust threw his arms up in victory. “FINALLY! Took them long enough.”

Husk groaned, pouring himself another drink. “I need a vacation.”

Charlie sighed happily, her hands clasped in front of her chest. “Love really does bloom in the strangest places.”

Vaggie pinched the bridge of her nose. “It’s not love. It’s deer puns. Endless, insufferable deer puns.”

But as Alastor and Y/N disappeared around the corner, their tails swishing in perfect harmony, it was clear to everyone else in the hotel: this was more than just a passing fancy. 

Deep in the hallway, as the two demon walks quietly, the jokes seemed to vanish. An awkward silence filling the space as each had a small tint on their cheeks, hearts pounding. However, in a moment born of incessant desperation to end such a silence, Alastor stopped and faced Y/N. 

“Cher, would it…be too much to ask you if you mean your words earlier?”

Facing him with a small smile, Y/N’s hand came to rest comfortingly on the lapel of Alastor’s suit. “I meant every word, Al.” 

“Then I hope you won’t mind—“

Before Y/N could even respond, Alastor pinned Y/N against wall, trapping them between his arms before locking their lips in a soft but passionate kiss. Pulling his mouth away to trail wet kises down the valley of their neck, Y/N’s hands came up to tug in his hair as a breathy sigh spilled past his lips. Alastor’s hands slowly dipped low, deft fingers trailing down the the waistband of their pants, pulling them softly in a request. Y/N nodded quickly, eyes rolling into the back of their head as his lips still continued worshiping their neck. 

Pulling down the offending garment, panties and all, Y/N was left half bare before the heated and intense gaze of the Radio Demon. Licking his lips hungrily, Alastor drug a finger along the slit, pleasently surpised to find it already so wet and inviting. Bringing his hand back up, he sucked the juices from his finger with a low grumble of appreciation. 

“Absolutely deer-vine, cher.”

Allowing his hand to flow back down, he plunged two fingers into their warm cunt, marveling at the way its walls constricted around him in desire. Y/N bit their lip, a desperate whine eeking past, body overflowing with arousal. Alastor’s face now was painted with a devilish smirk, speeding up only to hear those exact whimpers escape and reign freely for him to here. Relishing in all the delicious noises that came to pass through his partner’s puffy lips. His fingers curled up, hitting that delicious spot inside Y/N that nearly had her screaming, hands coming to grip his shoulders tightly. 

Pannting as they squirmed ontop of him; the coil in theur stomach became too tight to ignore as his fingers continued their onslaught. 

“Al—“

A blinding hot flash of liquid pours out of their overstimulated pussy without warning,, soaking the Radio Demon’s hand in release as he continues to pump into them; working Y/N through their high. 

“That’s it, cher. Looking so pretty for me.”

After a moment, letting them catch their breath, Alastor removed his fingers and wipes them unceremoinsuly on his trousers. Looking back up at them with half-lidded but lust blown eyes, he spoke once more. 

“Fawned of another round, my dear?”

[bonesmithsstuff]

Kaz Brekker - Wicked Game

Warnings: Canon typical violence, blood, references to abuse and scars. Angst.

Masterlist |

── .✦

" I found peace in your violence. Can't show me, there's no point in trying. I'm at one, and I've been quiet for too long. "

«Card.» The woman sitting at the gaming table flashed an innocent smile at the man in front of her, who was busy overseeing the club’s clientele. The count in her mind hadn’t faltered for even a second, letting her know exactly when to raise the stakes or when to pull back. She kept repeating, feigning surprise: "Oh, did I really win?" "I must be so lucky tonight.”. All accompanied by a light, carefree giggle that gave her just the right air of naïveté to be believable in a place like that.

The first time she had set foot in The Crow Club, she had certainly not gone unnoticed. Her arrival in Ketterdam had been anything but subtle. But her goal was simple: gather enough money to survive, to carve out a better life than the one she had led since birth.

That first time, Brekker had noticed her immediately, his gaze tracking her until she sat down at a table, ordering something to drink. His first thought had been about the dress she was wearing —high quality but so worn that he could tell she was trying to appear as something she was not: rich. His second thought had been about her face, her beauty. He had watched her wrinkle her nose in displeasure every time a man got too close to her during the game, and for some reason, Kaz had wanted to smile at that expression of disgust —the same one he often wore.

That evening, it was only after some time that the crow realized the real reason why she was so focused on the game rather than her surroundings: she was counting the cards.

A sadistic smile had curled his lips at that realization, the kind that could send a shiver down anyone’s spine —the contrast between his sharp gaze and his full lips making the whole thing unsettling. Kaz had understood: that woman knew exactly what she was doing. She had managed to distract even him from his business, but from that moment on, he hadn’t taken his eyes off of her.

And then, more than a year later, that memory surfaced in Brekker’s mind as he watched the woman sitting in the same spot where he had first seen her. The only difference was that, now, she worked under his command. It had all started with a contract —Kaz had allowed her to keep the money she had won, which was no small amount, in exchange for her to work for him until her debt was repaid. And yet, even after the money was settled, neither of them had broken the unspoken tie.

She liked that life. It made her feel free in a way she never had before meeting the Crows. And the Crows, in turn, liked having her around. She and Jesper got along better than anyone else, and Inej enjoyed having another woman to share thoughts with, someone who could understand and listen to her.

Still, none of them had ever managed to get too close to her. They had become friends, yes, but they all had the impression that some parts of her life would remain in the dark, forever.

More than anyone, Kaz wanted to know. He was curious about the way she flinched at the slightest touch, the way she recoiled when someone brushed her hand, how her face turned pale when someone hugged her or touched her back and shoulders. She would dig her nails into her palms, and a strange veil of fear would cloud her usually relaxed and cheerful expression.

Of course, the Crow had done his research, and found nothing relevant. Nothing that could give him a clue as to what haunted her. It infuriated him more than he would ever admit.

His doubts found their answer that night.

The Crow Club seemed as lively as ever. T/N sat in her usual spot, with that same innocent smile, and just asked for a card. Kaz’s watchful eyes never strayed far from her, keeping her within his sight. And every time she looked at a man, batting her lashes a few too many times, his grip on his cane tightened ever so slightly.

He had closed his eyes for a moment, hearing the door of the club slam open as he ran a gloved hand over his face. He was obsessed with that woman. So much that, lately, his nightmares had been replaced by others —visions of T/N looking at him with that knowing, teasing gaze, visions of her lips brushing against his, full and soft.

The very thought of touching someone repulsed and terrified him, but he couldn't help wondering if her skin was as soft as it looked.

Those thoughts had become more frequent, and the way he occasionally caught her staring at him didn’t help. He would meet her gaze, and she would always smile at him, even when his face remained its usual mask of sarcasm and impassivity. His heart would quicken, involuntarily, and all he wanted was for her to press her hand to his chest—to feel that beneath all the layers of fear and insecurity, to know that something was there. Something that could warm her.

When he reopened his eyes, though, she was gone.

Dirtyhands immediately scanned the room, missing a breath when he realized she was nowhere to be seen —not at the bar, not in the washroom. He moved swiftly toward Jesper, his cane striking the floor sharply.

«Where is T/N?»

Jesper turned toward him, frowning. «Weren’t you the one keeping an eye on her?» There was a hint of amusement in his voice, but Brekker didn’t catch it —too focused on the fact that a member of his crew was missing.

Jesper had seen it —the way Kaz looked at her, the way he followed her, how she was no longer just an investment but something else entirely.

«Looking for your pretty friend?» The voice from behind the bar caught their attention. «A man dragged her outside just a moment ago.»

Kaz was out the door instantly, Jesper and Inej right behind him.

They heard laughter. Then a muffled sound. They rounded the corner of the club, stepping into the alleyway.

«Are we interrupting?» Kaz’s voice was razor-sharp, making the four men in the alley turn around.

Than he saw her. T/N, slumped on the ground, clutching her torn dress with one hand and her bleeding leg with the other.

“Blood." “T/N." Those were the only words swirling in his mind.

Kaz’s gaze swept over the men, and he wasted no time before swinging his cane, striking the closest one across his face. Jesper had his guns drawn, but no one even had the chance to move. Kaz cut them down, one by one, ignoring Inej’s repeated calls for him to stop. The only thing he could hear was the sound of those men's bones breaking, snapping under his wrath. And he relished it.

Kaz only halted when all four men lay at his feet, groaning, blood staining their clothes —and his.

Satisfied, he smiled darkly.

«Take them to the docks. Throw them on the first ship out.» He turned to Jesper and Inej, who nodded. Then, to the men at his feet. Whether they were alive or dead, he didn't care at that moment. Still, he spared a few words of warning —he needed to send a clear message: «Whatever you came here for, don’t come back. Next time, I won’t be so gentle.»

He turned his back on them, moving toward T/N. She had watched the whole thing, eyes locked on his face as he took pleasure in spilling their blood. And yet, as he knelt in front of her, she sighed in relief.

«Kaz...» She whispered.

His name. From her lips. For the first time, it didn’t sound like a curse. It didn’t sound like the mask he had built to survive Ketterdam. It sounded like a melody. A soft, soothing note reverberating in his chest, making his heart nearly burst.

Dirtyhands. Bastard of the Barrel. The Devil himself.

Yet, there he was —kneeling before her, face smeared with blood, intoxicated by her scent, wondering if someone like him could ever deserve someone like her. Someone brave. Loyal. Strong. Someone who was everything he was not.

T/N’s breath condensed in the cold air as she stared at the man in front of her, her eyes glossy, cheeks flushed, and perfect lips marred by a small, bleeding cut.

«Can you walk?»

Unsure, she nodded, leaning forward to press a hand against the damp asphalt as she pushed herself to her feet. The wound on her thigh was still dripping red, but thankfully, despite the pain, it wasn’t deep enough to have severed an artery.

She trembled as she stood, a shiver running down her spine from the cold seeping into the exposed skin left bare by her torn dress. Kaz dared to lower his gaze for a moment, his jaw clenching at the thought of what had nearly happened in that alley. His grip on his bloody cane tightened when he noticed the numerous scars marking her skin. Without a word, he swiftly removed the black jacket embroidered with red accents that he had worn that evening, careful not to touch her as he draped it over her shoulders —both to warm her and to hide those white lines from his sight.

He watched her intently, curious about her reaction to the gesture. He wanted an explanation. Answers. And tonight, she wouldn’t escape without giving them to him.

T/N bit her lip, lowering her gaze to the street as her cheeks reddened under the dim alley light. She let herself be enveloped by his scent. It was strong, sharp, and the warmth of his jacket settled over her instantly as they made their way toward the entrance of The Crow Club, heading upstairs to her room. Kaz’s presence behind her reassured her —and at the same time, it unsettled her, making her nervous, uncertain. Contrary to what she had expected, he followed her inside, shutting the door behind him with a heavy thud.

A weight settled in her chest as she perched on the edge of the mattress, trying to ease the pressure on her injured leg. She didn’t dare look up as she reached for a clean cloth, dipping it into the bowl of water beside her bed. Slowly, she lifted the hem of her dress, exposing her thigh, exhaling shakily before she began dabbing at the wound, trying to clean away the blood. She hissed at the sting, and that was when he cleared his throat: «What did those men want from you?» His voice was firm, steady. He stood in front of her, leaning slightly on his cane.

«I don’t know.»

T/N squeezed her eyes shut for a moment, gripping the cloth tighter. She pushed herself up, moving clumsily toward the washroom to grab some bandages, a sudden wave of dizziness nearly sent her collapsing to the floor. Kaz caught her in time, his gloved hand tightening around her arm. He released her the moment she steadied herself.

«Stay still.» He brushed past her, his cane tapping against the floor as he retrieved the bandages himself. «Sit.» His voice left no room for argument as he gestured toward the desk she was already leaning against for support. She obeyed, watching him place his cane against the chair before stepping closer.

He stopped just short of letting his knees brush against hers, lowering himself slightly so he was eye-level with her. He let out a heavy sigh, his jaw tensing before he asked,

«May I?»

«Yes.» She didn’t hesitate.

Kaz’s gaze flickered to his hands as they moved to roll her dress up, carefully, inch by inch, exposing the wound on her thigh. She held her breath, and when his eyes met hers from below, she felt compelled to say something. She knew how hard this was for him. How much effort it took just to be this close.

«You don’t have to—»

«I know.» He cut her off sharply, inhaling deeply to steady his heartbeat. «I want to.»

Dipping the cloth into the water again, he added some disinfectant before pressing it against her skin —always through the layer of his gloves, as if the leather was the only thing keeping him grounded. T/N leaned her head back against the wall, trying to ignore the sting.

«So?»

His voice pulled her back. She lowered her gaze, watching a few strands of his dark hair fall over his forehead.

«So what?»

He shot her a warning look.

«What did those men want from you?»

This time, his voice left no room for anything but the truth. An angering Kaz Brekker was something to be considered carefully, even for her.

«They belong to my father.» She whispered, curling into the warmth of his jacket still draped over her shoulders. She averted her eyes to the floor, bringing a hand up to cover her face for a moment, knowing full well that he wouldn’t be satisfied with just that. «I came to Ketterdam to escape him. I planned to make enough money to get to the continent. Os Kervo, or maybe Novo-Kribirsk.»

«Then why did you stay?»

She barely needed to answer. When Kaz looked at her, really looked at her, he understood. Her eyes, large and glistening with unshed emotions, were filled with something he had lost long ago. Hope. But the way she was looking at him, it made him want to be something more. Something better.

«For you.» She murmured, a faint smile touching her lips. «For Inej. For Jesper. For the Crows. Because for the first time in my life, I wasn’t afraid. For the first time, I laughed, I felt something. I realized that not every touch is meant to hurt. That life is more than just survival.»

Kaz finished disinfecting the cut and placed a sterile pad over it. He gestured for her to lift her leg slightly so he could secure the bandage, tying it firmly in place.

«The scars?»

He asked the question despite already knowing the answer. But he needed to hear it. He needed to be sure. Sure that when the time came, he would strike down the right man.

«Also my father.» She confirmed.

«I want to see them.»

T/N sighed.

She had already revealed so much. Too much. But she was too exhausted to resist. She let herself slide forward as Kaz stepped back, giving her space. Shrugging off his jacket, she draped it over the desk before reaching for the neckline of her dress. She gripped the fabric tightly, turning her back to him as she pulled the material down as best as she could. The scars were there, on her back, where no one could see them unless she allowed it. Because her father had known appearances were important. Almost as important as control.

Kaz’s breath fanned over her bare skin, sending a light shiver through her.

«Are you cold?»

A smile ghosted her lips.

«No.» It’s you, she wanted to add.

She turned her head just slightly, just enough to see him. She watched as he leaned in, his gloved fingers barely skimming over the white lines etched into her skin.

«I’ll kill him.» Kaz’s voice was deadly quiet. «I’ll kill anyone who comes looking for you. Anyone who tries to take you away.»

A pause. And then something warm, something soft, something unfamiliar pressed against her skin. His lips. A silent promise, sealed in a way he had never done before.

T/N’s breath hitched as she felt him move, felt the warmth of his mouth trail upward. His hands braced against the desk on either side of hers, his presence towering over her without even touching.

Another kiss. This time, at the curve of her neck. Her eyes widened, her heart racing so fast that in the silence, she was sure he could hear it.

«I’ll kill anyone who tries to take you away from me.»

He whispered against her ear, and she shivered —not from the cold, but from him. When she turned to face him, he was already gone. The only thing he left behind was his black jacket, still resting on her desk.

He never took it back.

── .✦

Hello!!!!!!

This is my first fic :), English is not my first language so please be kind. Every suggestion is welcome! All rights are reserved. Credits to the real artist of the fan art.

Let me know what do you think! I want feedbacks pls.

[thewintersoldierdisaster]

a/n: hey there! i never actually planned on writing a sequel to ‘9 pm’ but a few anons asked about it and i liked the idea of giving them some happiness following that fic! the perfect title gave me the idea for the fic and here we are ☺️ i hope you guys enjoy!!

word count: 2.8k

tw: brief and minor mention of a miscarriage, pregnancy

direct sequel to 9 p.m. in vancouver

summary: andrei’s off on a road trip and you’re more exhausted than normal. once you realize why, you have to call andrei immediately

It’s barely ten at night and you’re falling asleep on the couch, Friends rerun playing at a low volume on the TV. Your blinks get longer, eyelids heavy, while Joey yells about the Coast Guard.

A yawn creaks at your jaw and you try to blink away some of the sudden exhaustion in your body. It doesn’t really work, another yawn catching you a few minutes later. You wrap your arms around one of the throw pillows, cheek smashed up against the pillow tucked under your head.

It’s been a long few days, work overwhelming you and Andrei up in the tri-state area for a mini road trip. The Canes had lost to the Flyers before beating the Devils. They’re currently up two goals on the Rangers, according to your NHL app updates, with just a few minutes left in the third.

The team will spend the night in the city before heading to Long Island for the second half of a back to back tomorrow.

It’s a grueling schedule so early in the season, four games in six days, and you know Andrei will be exhausted when he gets home on Monday morning. At least they’re off for two days before hitting the ice for a home game on Wednesday. You yawn again and decide vaguely that maybe you’ll go to the game, if you can keep your eyes open. It’s been a while since you went to the arena and you miss watching Andrei play live.

You can’t help but think briefly about the game in Vancouver last November, almost a year ago now, and your hand drifts to your stomach.

The baby would’ve been four months old, probably keeping you wide awake right now.

You don’t really think about the loss as much anymore, you can go long stretches of time without thinking about him - because you’d decided that it was a boy, even though it was too early to ever tell. Your due date had come around at the end of July and Andrei had spirited you out of the country, the both of you quiet and moody for a few days.

And then training camp had started and you’d gotten busy with work and then the season started and you didn’t dwell on the loss for a while.

But now it’s late and you’re tired and you haven’t seen Andrei in a few days and you should be cuddling a baby right now.

A few tears trickle down your temple and you swipe at them, emotion clogging your throat.

“God, get a grip,” you mutter to yourself, shaking your head slightly. It’s not even like you’re on your period to be so hormonal right now. Your brain takes a second to process the thought and when it does, your eyes widen and you kick your legs out, struggling with the blanket to try and sit up.

“Oh, oh my god,” you scramble for your phone, tossing blankets around until you hear the tell-tale thunk of the phone hitting the floor. You lunge for it, the TV remote going flying, but you barely pay attention to that as your fingers wrap around the loop on the back of your phone case and snatch it off the floor.

Your hands shake violently as you unlock your phone and thumb over to find your period tracker app. The app takes seconds to load, seconds where your heart beats wildly and your vision goes a little blurry. You mutter, “come on, faster, faster,” under your breath and suddenly the screen loads and there in the center of the screen, in bold font, is the notice that your period has been late for more than thirty days.

You’ve missed two periods.

Without even realizing it.

To be fair to yourself, after the miscarriage, everything was thrown off and you’ve only had seven or eight periods in the past year. So it’s not totally crazy that you didn’t realize you missed two cycles.

Your stomach lurches a little bit and you chew at your lower lip. You probably should take a test. But do you want to know without Andrei, again?

It didn’t work out so well last time.

You’re probably not even pregnant, you rationalize, it’s the stress of a new season starting and your body getting back to normal.

Never mind the fact that you’ve long been cleared to get pregnant again and your gynaecologist hadn’t said anything was wrong at your last appointment.

Your phone vibrates in your hand, nearly scaring the shit out of you. It’s just a notification from the NHL app - sometime in the last few minutes, while you’d been spiralling, the Rangers had tied the game and it was going to overtime.

Overtime anxiety is better than maybe-pregnant anxiety, so you tune into Bally, the sudden brightness of the glare off the ice making you blink. You’re half-heartedly paying attention, fingers tapping against your thigh while the players zip up and down the ice, trading scoring chances. Andrei’s on the ice for a shift and then he’s back on the bench. Pyotr makes a save and then another and then he doesn’t.

You frown at the TV, watching Andrei and the guys file off the ice, miserable for the team’s loss. You change the channel back to Nick at Nite, not interested in seeing the post-game analysis of the loss.

The audience laughter from the show echoes around the living room and you chew at your lower lip anxiously. Andrei won’t be back to his hotel room for hours, the post-game process already underway, but between media, a shower, and the travel. Well, it’ll be at least close to midnight before you can talk to him.

He’ll reassure you that you’re overthinking, that it’s nothing. But a quiet part of your brain is insistent that you’re pregnant and it just won’t shut up.

The smartest thing would be to take a test, find out once and for all if you’re even going to mention anything to Andrei. You’re pretty sure there’s no tests left after last time and if there are, they’re probably expired.

Your fingers tap at the screen of your phone almost by memory, the Google search showing that there’s a twenty-four hour CVS just a ten minute drive away.

The episode ends and another begins while you sit on that information, giving yourself a moment to imagine what you’ll do if the test is positive. He has to know immediately this time, you don’t think you’d be able to wait.

“Oh fuck it,” you mutter to yourself, pushing the blankets off your legs and getting up from the couch. Your vision goes fuzzy, briefly, the blood rushing from your head. You blink and everything shifts back into focus, your heart hammering a little.

Before you can overthink it, you turn off the TV and head for the front door, making a stop at the front hall closet to grab a jacket. Your fingers close around the sleeve of one of Andrei’s, the jacket dwarfing your frame as you slip your arms into the sleeves. You shove your feet into a ratty pair of Uggs and drop a faded Canes ball cap on your head.

You look insane, more like a college kid doing a walk of shame than a married woman, but Andrei’s scent embedded deep into the collar of his jacket is comforting you.

At CVS, you grab at the pregnancy test boxes like a woman possessed - Clear Blue, First Response, and the CVS generic brand all go into your basket, along with a bag of pumpkin shaped Reese’s Cups and a pack of Twizzlers. Something about the waxy, artificial strawberry ropes seems appealing right now.

Thank God for self-checkout, you don’t think you can face another person right now.

The pregnancy tests feel like they weigh a million pounds in the plastic bag and you gnaw anxiously on a Twizzler as you drive back home.

It’s well after midnight by the time you manage to drink enough water in order to pee on all the sticks and this round is more anxiety producing than when you’d done it over a year ago. Once you’re done, you set the timer on your phone and flip each stick over on the counter, so you can’t see the displays.

Instead of waiting in the bathroom, which is feeling small and stuffy despite how large it actually is, you pace around your bedroom for the few minutes it takes for your timer to count down. You wonder if you could call Andrei now, be on the phone with him when you look at the display, but if you’re not pregnant and he’s on the phone, he’ll be disappointed right before the next set of games. He’s been talking about it a little more lately, in the abstract, how nice it’ll be to have a baby one day. And you maybe haven’t been as enthusiastic as he’s been, so you don’t want to get his hopes up.

If you’re not pregnant, Andrei doesn’t need to know that you worried yourself into a tizzy over nothing.

But if you are? Well, Andrei will be the first call anyway.

The timer goes off on your phone and the sudden, shrill noise makes you jump. Your stomach lurches and you flatten your palm over it. Underneath the anxiety, there’s a little bubble of excitement growing, the thought of a baby providing a little spark of joy.

You wander back into the bathroom and close your eyes before flipping the tests over with shaking hands.

The plastic clatters against the countertop and you squint one eye open and then the other, vision focusing on the little displays.

“Oh!” You gasp, eyes immediately filling with tears, hands flying up to cover your mouth.

All three are positive, the little Clear Blue display declaring you ‘Pregnant’ in tiny letters.

Tears slip down your cheeks and you start giggling wildly, overwhelmed in the best possible way. Your hands press on your stomach, palms flat and fingers splayed.

“Hey there, baby,” you murmur, looking down. “Stay safe in there, okay? We want to meet you.”

The tears fall faster and you wipe at them with your shoulder, a damp splotch forming on the fabric of your sweatshirt. It’s so late, but you need to tell Andrei, and you move on autopilot, climbing onto your bed and finding your phone among the messy covers - the bed hasn’t been made in two days because Andrei is more of a stickler for that than you are and you like to get right back into the nest of blankets at the end of the day. It’s on your list of things to do before he’s back in a few days. Now, you pile yourself into a little cocoon of the blankets and comforters, warm and happy.

You text him first, just a quick ‘you awake?’ that you know he’s going to read as a request for phone sex.

True enough, your phone vibrates in your hand a few seconds later, Andrei’s name at the top of the screen. You grin and slide the bar to answer, “hey there.”

“Is late,” he replies, a faint laugh in his tone. “Thought you would be sleeping.”

“No,” you giggle, feeling a little unhinged. “Not asleep. Couldn’t sleep. Um, are you alone?”

Your husband laughs fully now, the sound echoing over the line. “Solnyshka, been a long day. I love you, but we have early morning,” he teases and the rumble of his voice makes you smile.

“No, not for that you perv,” you shoot back, twisting your fingers in a loose thread. “I wanted to talk to you about something.”

You know you’re sounding vague and strange, but to his credit, Andrei doesn’t call you out on it. Instead, he’s quiet for a second before your phone vibrates against your ear, signalling an incoming text. You pull the phone from your ear and tap over to your messages, laughing when you see the picture Andrei just sent.

The hotel room is nearly pitch black, but you can still make out the shape of Martin Nečas passed out in his bed with what looks like an eye mask covering his face. Andrei’s grinning face is cut off in the corner of the picture.

“Guess that’s a yes then,” you smile, bringing the phone back to your ear.

“Neci has earplugs in too,” Andrei informs you. “Says I snore, which is lie.”

It’s not, but you don’t feel like relitigating that particular point with him right now. So you move on.

“I know I should’ve waited, done something cute, but I’m bursting,” you let the words come out in a rush, feeling lightheaded with excitement. “I couldn’t, I had to tell you right away, Drei, baby, I’m pregnant.”

Andrei’s silent on the other end and a slightly manic laugh bubbles out of your mouth while you wait for him to say something.

“Pregnant?” He repeats, sounding like he’s just taken a blow to the stomach - winded and hoarse. “Like, with baby?”

“Yeah, mhm,” you hum, just letting the news soak in. Andrei’s breathing is audible in your ear, a soft ‘huh’ puffing out.

He starts to laugh and you can hear the grin in his voice when he says, “oh, solnyshka, fuck, I’m… ya chertovski schastliv.”

He slips into Russian and you’re not totally familiar with the words, but he repeats them in English, “I’m so fucking happy. Are you okay? How you feel?”

“I’m okay, I was feeling a little tired earlier,” you say. “That’s kind of why I took the test, just to see.”

Without asking, Andrei switches the call to a FaceTime and you pull the phone back, his grinning face taking up the entire screen. He looks lighter and happier than he has in months and the sight of him, of that smile that you love so much, makes you emotional.

“I wish I could kiss you,” he shakes his head, still smiling. “Hold you, something other than smile like idiot on phone.”

“I’m just happy to see your smile,” you say truthfully. A hug wouldn’t be unwelcome, but just seeing Andrei’s face has you calmer. “It’s late,” you continue, catching sight of the time in the top left corner of your phone - nearly 1:30 in the morning. “You should get some sleep.”

The adrenaline is starting to wear off now and you slump back against the pillows and headboard.

Andrei nods. “Call me when you get up,” he requests, phone bouncing slightly as he shifts on the bed. “We leave early, but call any time, okay?”

“Okay,” you promise, pressing your lips together to smother a yawn. “Hey, I love you.”

“Ya tebya lyublyu,” Andrei replies in Russian, warm and awed. “You and baby, both.”

You’re both quiet for a bit, comfortable and sleepy, reluctant to end the call. You just want to enjoy his long-distance presence and this little bubble, but eventually Martin lets out a snore on his side of the room, startling you since you forgot he was there. Andrei laughs faintly and reluctantly ends the call, after telling you he loves you again.

Now that Andrei knows, your whole body relaxes and you sink happily into the nest of blankets and pillows, curled up in a c-shape, one hand on your stomach.

There’s a million things to figure out in the coming days, weeks, and months, a million worries to ruminate on, but for now, you fall asleep with a smile on your face and pure happiness bubbling in your stomach.

The next morning, you snooze your alarm and allow yourself to wake up slowly and lazily. It’s an easy morning and you don’t plan on getting out of bed until you hear the doorbell ring.

With a grumble, you climb out of bed and shove your feet into a pair of slippers to pad downstairs, wondering who could be at the door this early.

It’s a delivery man, half-hidden behind a huge bouquet of flowers. You accept it, surprised at the delivery but not at the sender.

The oversized bouquet made up of baby roses, baby’s breath, and a few other types all in various shades of baby pink and baby blue can only be from your husband. Your face hurts from the size of your smile and you dig out the little card from between a pale pinks rose and a light blue hydrangea.

‘I love you, we will celebrate as soon as I am home. A hug and a kiss from New York for you, mama. -A’

It’s not Andrei’s handwriting, but you trace your fingers over the letters and feel tears well up. Any concerns or worries you might have about having a baby are pushed aside.

Andrei’s going to be the best dad and you’re so lucky to be doing this with him.

[captain-bubble-wrap]

baaaaabe! just imagine papi looking up and searching for his girl in the crowd🤭 how would he react when he spots her? need you to work your papi magic please🥹🤞🏼

Tonight, yourself and three of your girlfriends were attending the Leafs game as the final stop of your birthday celebration. Auston had been the one to get you the tickets and they had given you the best vantage point for viewing each of the home team’s goals. Your friends would be the first to admit that they didn’t know anything about hockey, but they knew who Auston was and that was enough. You, on the other hand, hadn’t heard half of what they were yapping about, because you were too transfixed on keeping track of number thirty-four.

“Wait, what’s Auston’s number again?”

You sighed, as you had already answered her question once before, “Thirty-four.”

“Oh, right! Sorry! There are just too many out there to keep track of! This the last...period, right?”

“Yeah, and we need to be smart and hold this lead,” you added, hands clasps in front of your lips. The game had been eventful since the opening puck drop and was getting down to the wire. The Canes remained scoreless through the first with the Leafs scoring four unanswered goals; the second period had been scoreless for both teams; which led to the third. Carolina would put up three quick goals withing three minutes, making the score four-to-three with five minutes remaining in regulation. With just two minutes and change remaining, the Canes pulled their goalie. Always a stressful moment with the net empty, you locked onto Auston who had just started a fresh shift.

It was a battle to get the puck out of their zone, what with the Canes having an extra man on the ice, but eventually Auston gained possession and fired on the open net, scoring the fifth goal for the Leafs. As he celebrated with his teammates, his eyes looked for you in the stands, hoping he had remembered which section you were in. And there you were, on your feet, already looking at him when his eyes locked onto you for a passing moment. To fans, it just looked like he was just scanning the crowd for their reactions, but you knew this was a moment shared just between the two of you. Though it only lasted for a second or two, it had been enough to give you butterflies. Your girlfriends said nothing, they were just trying to match the energy and actions of those around them,

Once the game resumed, there would be one more empty net goal, making the Leafs final score six to three once the final buzzer sounded. The whole arena was electric! You’d watch your boys celebrate their victory, giving Stolarz head taps for the well-won performance. It was so good to see them win, and on your birthday no less. You couldn’t help but smile as you stared at Auston, his large frame, showing the level of exhaustion he was now feeling. He wouldn’t look for you again, and you hadn’t expected him too. One little glace had been enough; you’d get to spend the whole night with him anyway. That was something no one else could say. Happy birthday to you, indeed~

[babyboywilson]

i'm still watching the show but uhh can i request hilson? my favorite trope is fake/pretend relationship so... maybe something short where they kiss just to piss someone off and they end up in a full blown make out session? or literally anything else as long as you have fun writing!!! ily!!

“that would mean someone would actually want to date you with your caustic personality,” chase pointed at house with a pen in his hand.

the team had been debating the dating history of a patient, and somehow the conversation had devolved into house’s dating present.

house kicked his feet up onto the table and motioned lazily in the general direction of wilson’s office. “i’m already in a relationship.”

foreman rolled his eyes. “whatever twisted friendship you have with wilson doesn’t count.”

house scoffed. “we’ve been together for years.”

“as friends, sure. we’re talking about dating. and no one would want to date you. especially wilson. he knows you too well to date you,” chase continued.

cameron finally looked up from the files she’d been skimming through. “wilson wouldn’t even kiss you, let alone date you.”

house glared at the team, squinting his eyes as if they were a puzzle he was trying to solve. then, without a word, he stood up and marched out of the office. the team scrambled to follow as house moved with purpose directly into wilson’s office.

wilson’s eyebrows shot up in surprise as the door banged open and he caught sight of the look of determination on house’s face. house motioned with the crock of his index finger for wilson to come closer, and wilson got up without hesitation.

using the handle of his cane, house snagged wilson’s hip and yanked him closer. the look in house’s eyes screamed a challenge, and, glancing behind house, wilson caught a glimpse of the rest of the team standing in the doorway to his office.

oh, here they go again. wilson had no idea what was about to happen, but if he knew house the way he did, he knew there would be no backing down until house had won whatever little game he was playing.

when house leaned in and crushed his lips against wilson’s, wilson clenched his fists and then released them a moment later.

house smirked against wilson’s lips as he felt wilson’s hands settle on his waist as he relaxed into the kiss. it was way too easy to slide his tongue into wilson’s mouth. it was even easier to draw out little breathy gasps from wilson’s lips as house explored wilson’s mouth.

maybe they’d done this before and house couldn’t remember. or maybe wilson just trusted him that much and he was smart enough to put two and two together for whatever game house was playing with his team and was kissing house as if he’d done it a million times before.

either way, kissing wilson was too easy. and a little bit… addicting.

house moved back a step, breaking the kiss before he got hooked. but wilson followed; chasing house’s lips as if he simply couldn’t resist. and damn, it was even easier to fall back into the kiss now that the weakness had been discovered.

this time wilson led the kiss, gliding his tongue slowly and teasingly over house’s lower lip before dipping into house’s mouth just enough to brush against house’s tongue. house shuddered and let out a groan. wilson chuckled against house’s mouth but didn’t break the kiss.

in the back of house’s mind, he dully realized it had gone beyond a kiss and had turned into full on making out. but he didn’t care. not when wilson’s hands had moved to either side of his jaw and he was kissing house passionately with a hint of desperation that was almost dizzying.

the need to breathe was burning up house’s lungs, but god he didn’t want this to end. just a few more seconds. just a little longer to taste the hint of coffee in wilson’s mouth from his morning cup of coffee. just another moment to memorize wilson’s mouth.

when he broke the kiss, gasping for air and holding onto wilson’s chest to keep himself stable, it felt like the room was spinning. he glanced over to the doorway to gloat about their very ‘real’ relationship, but the underlings had already disappeared.

“looks like you made your point, whatever that was,” wilson panted out.

house couldn’t even remember what the point was anymore now that he was staring at wilson’s mouth as need burned down his throat. “shut up,” house muttered, unable to resist the magnetic force anymore as he closed the distance and attached his lips to wilson’s again.

now it was wilson grinning into the kiss, but house didn’t care. as long as wilson continued to kiss him with that same toe-curling intensity as the first kiss they’d just shared.

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Not sure how old Gidel is but how about we get to see him and Cheka meeting? and then big bros Leona and Fellow can watch their kids play with each other haha

So tell me, do you wanna go?

Fellow liked to think of himself as decent at arithmetic. Numbers made sense, had clear-cut definitions to them. They could be manipulated in predictable ways. Added, subtracted, divided.

He also knew that children don't just magically multiply--which was why he did a hard double take when he glanced back and found two figures trotting after him, not one.

"... Who the hell's this?" Fellow demanded, thrusting his fox-tipped cane at the second boy. "You seen this guy before, Giddie?"

Gidel furiously shook his head.

The new child, a lion cub with a fiery orange mane, stared up at Fellow with wide caramel eyes. “Hiya! Have you seen my ojitan? I'm lookin' for him."

"Your ojitan?" Fellow blinked. He combed through the NRC staff in his head. Not a single lion beastman came to mind. Shoot, looks like I can't hold him for a handsome ransom. "Nope, can't say I have. You might be lookin' in the wrong place, kiddo. Try Foothill Town."

"I don't have enough money for the bus fare. I used what I had to take the bus here,” the bot explained. “Plus, Kifaji might still be waiting for me back in town.”

Kifaji? Must be the brat’s babysitter.

"Well, sorry. Afraid I can't help ya. C'mon, Giddie. Let's get going." Fellow turned and took a few paces. The familiar clumsy footsteps of his little brother didn't follow.

He stopped and glanced back, finding Gidel pawing at the pendant looped around the lion cub's neck. It was beaded with vibrant colors, with a large circular silver medallion and a cerulean feather hanging off of it.

"Oh! You like my necklace?"

Gidel nodded.

"Hehe. Kifaji says it's my special charm. It helps me find my way home when I'm lost." A pause. "Do you wanna try it on since you don't have one?"

Gidel's eyes widened. He reached for his top hat and offered it to the cub. A fair trade, he seemed to suggest.

"Oi, Gidel!" Fellow hissed. "Now's not the time for fun and games!"

His protests went unnoticed, however. The lion cub plopped the top hat on red mane, and Gidel slipped the feathered pendant over his head.

"Ahahah! You look so good in that!"

Gidel shyly waved a hand at the other child. You too.

"Your name's Gidel?" The lion cub gave a huge grin. "I'm Cheka. Let's be friends!"

Shock slipped over his facial features. Friends? Gidel hadn't thought it possible. He moved around too much, could never plant his feet in the ground.

Something in his chest fluttered with excitement. Friends, for real? Could he really have them?

“Oh no, ya don’t!”

Suddenly, Cheka was yanked back by the scruff of his shirt. Gidel, too, fell backward, pulled by Fellow by the sleeve. He had half a mind to scold Gidel for talking to strangers--but his mouth went dry when he met the gaze of another beast.

Green, proud.

"Y-You're...!!"

"Ojitan!!" Cheka squealed in delight.

"Don't 'ojitan' me!" Leona scowled, keeping his grip on the child firm. "You keep runnin' off from your guards like that, and ol' Kifaji will blow a blood vessel. He wouldn't stop spam calling me until I nabbed you for him. You're going back to the old coot ASAP."

"Noooo, I wanted to play with you and my new friend!" Cheka protested, flailing his limbs.

"Not on my watch, you aren't. Kiss your ‘new friend’ good-bye.” Leona glared at the top hat Cheka wore. “And trade that back.”

“Hold on a sec!!” Fellow cried out. “Did you just say this kid has bodyguards?!”

Bodyguards… and related to this pompous NRC student… That means he’s loaded!! Well, at least his parents are. Operation Handsome Ransom is still possible!!

“Heeey, Cheka-kun! How would you like to come over for a playdate with Giddie?” Fellow asked sweetly, honey dripping from his voice as he wrung his hands together. (Gidel looked confused until Fellow elbowed him, forcing the boy to give a vigorous nod.)

Leona narrowed his eyes at the conman. "Nice try, omnivore. That trick won't work on me. Find some other sucker. Cheka, we're leaving."

"Ojitaaan, lemme down! I don’t wanna leave yet!”

"No."

"C-Come back, Cheka-kun! This Uncle Fellow Honest-sama has a neat magic trick to show you!"

“Go away!”

"...!!"

"By the Sevens..." Leona groaned. He could feel a migraine coming on. "Let it go already!!"

[queersolarfandompage]

Hilson Masterlist:

A bunch of fics I’ve read in the last month, month and a half. All works are completed and over 9,000 words per fic.

My Love’s an Arbutus - Rated G

House gets a soulmate, WIlson gets Hanahaki. It ends suprisingly well for both of them.

Handle with Care - Rated G

This is the story of how James Wilson ended up on his best friends doorstep with a baby in a carseat he’d stolen from the maternity ward, and the chaos that followed.

A Thousand Teeth (And Yours Amoung Them) - Rated T

Sometimes, when House gets too overwhelmed by his emotions, he gets a little bitey. This is five times House bites Wilson, and one time Wilson finally bites him back.

Systemic - Rated T

Ever since Wilson moved in, House has presented with some inexplicable symptoms. Fortunately, he has a team of talented doctors to aid him with his diagnosis.

Touch Therapy - Rated T

It’s not that House needs the human contact. It’s just that when you’re sharing an apartment, these things happen sometimes.

I Never Sleep With Married Men - Rated T

House and Wilson are married. It’s not what you think.

Double or Nothing - Rated T

House kisses Wilson’s cheek as part of an ‘act’, it feels too natural to him, so, of course, he has to turn it all into a game, Wilson catches up pretty quickly. The duckings try to not get scarred for life.

The Line of Thought - Rated T

Cameron, Foreman, and Chase keep on trying to get into the little details of House’s love life. House doesn’t like that one bit.

In the Eye of the Storm - Rated T

House does not want Wilson to invite his subordinates over for dinner, and he definitely doesn’t want them to be stuck there due to an unexpected snowstorm. But could the two of them find what they need?

Drew Stars Around my Scars - Rated T

James Wilson loves Gregory House in secret, but perhaps he is closer to knowing than he realizes.

Oreos, a Cane, and a Hell of a Lot of Diapers - Rated T

Hilson AU in which House and Wilson are waiting for the birth of their two babies. Watch them survive their first few weeks of parenthood along with the struggles it takes to be a parent.

Impossible - Rated T

“Wilson, hey-“

“…This is James Wilson. I can’t get to the phone right now, but if you leave a message, I’ll get back to you as soon as I can.”

Oh.

There was a long, sustained tone, and House cleared his throat.

“Wilson. I’m sorry for what I said to you in January. It was over the line, and I shouldn’t have gone there in the first place. I know you don’t want to talk to me, and… I’ll respect that. I just wanted you to know that I’m…”

He looked down at the flowers.

“I’m sorry.”

House and Wilson both have Hanahaki Disease, and would rather die than give up their feelings.

No Need to Worry (Making Up Your Mind) - Rated T

House makes the mistake of telling his mother he can’t join her for Christmas because of his new boyfriend. Somehow, this becomes Wilson’s problem.

Something to Prove Series - Rated T

Something to Prove

When House suddenly want to initiate a relationship with Wilson, Wilson is overjoyed. The feelings he’d held for years are finally mutual. Or are they?

Marathons

House and Wilson decide to let the other people in their lives in on the fact that they’re dating. But no, they can’t just sit them down and tell them. Of course not. That would be too boring.

After School - Rated T

Gregory House is incredibly bored with his life when James Wilson is hired to teach Anatomy & Physiology alongside him at Princeton Plainsboro High School. Though he wants to maintain that same monotony he’s grown comfortable with, House quickly finds out that one school year can change a lot.

Life’s Harsh and Sweet Lessons - Rated T

House and Wilson find out that a simple act of kindness can turn into something so much more for all involved. (I love this fic so much. They’re just gay dog dads.)

Losing Balance - Rated T

There’s a new case for House, in which Wilson gets stuck by chance. The relationship between the patiend and his best friend brings up new issues House and Wilson have to deal with. While the first simply chooses to ignore them, the second is forced to face the changes in their friendship and the influence that the people around them have on it.

Gaseous Nebula - Rated T

After a hard day at work, House and Wilson intend to spend their evening watching the Princeton Philharmonic Orchestra. Instead, the building collapses, leaving on of them trapped in peril and the other desperate for answeres. The chaos drives them to revelations about themselves and each other, but it may be too late.

Ship of Fools - Rated M

The Captain’s a tyrant and possibly a madman, but when the crew rebels it’s Wilson who gets caught in the crossfire.

Bait and Switch - Rated M

Wilson tricks House into participating in a bachelor auction to benefit the hospital.

Fool’s Gold - Rated M

Don’t threaten what isn’t yours. (Dragon AU)

Old Machines - Rated M

Wilson said, “So we’re just two friends who want to have sex with each other, who aren’t going to do anything about it.”

Spoken with the increduility of a beautiful person with low impulse control. House shrugged.

“We’ve been that for years. Why mess with success?”

Wilson was looking at his mouth. He sounded strained. “I don’t think what we’re doing qualifies as success.”

Not as Easy as it Looks on TV - Rated M

House and Wilson share an intimate moment. the likes of which Wilson had never seen before in their three year relationship. It drives Wilson to realize he wants to marry House, but of course it’s never that easy, is it?

That’s How Strong My Love Is - Rated M

For once, Wilson doesn’t fall into a relationship, much to House’s irritataion.

Fresh Feeling - Rated M

House is tricked into going on a team-building trip with his colleagues. He does far more bonding with Wilson than anyone else.

Love Is The Drug - Rated M

What happens when two best friends love each other to the point of hating each other? They try to date and sulk about it.

The More It Took Away - Rated E

House has been hiding this little secret of his for years. Too bad it’s coming back to bite him on the ass.

The Escalated Butt Dial - Rated E

He thinks it must be an accident. Because all he hears is shuffling and soft… clapping? He’s about to hang up and laugh because House butt-dialed him while drunk when he hears it.

A very, very obviously sexual grunt. A moan, if more specific. Whatever. Not whatever. He can’t really breath right now, or think; call back laterr.

He wants to hang up. This is an invasion of privacy. This isn’t okay. House butt-dialed him while masurbating, for fuck’s sake. And it’s not like he wants to listen. Right? So. Just hang up.

The One-Eyed King Takes All - Rated E

The classic crew plays strip poker.

You’re the Only One That Never Gets Old Series - Rated E

You’re the Only One That Never Gets Old

An accidental kiss… and a few taht are not so accidental.

Let’s Take A Breath (Before We Go, Go, Go)

House kisses Wilson to piss off an homophobic patient. It might ahve been his best idea yet.

Keep Me Where the Light Is - Rated E

House has his Earth shattering, (good) knee weakening, life changing revelation about Wilson at such an inopporune time, that he’s tempted to laugh. He would have, if he hadn’t been hands deep in his patient’s organs.

Absinthe - Rated E

Wilson wants a new apartment, House is up to no good, and strange metaphors abound.

Experimental Procedures - Rated E

An offhand comment leads Wilson to test out some unusual methods of pain relief for House. (They’re extremely effective.)

Familiarity (Breeds Contempt) - Rated E

House and Wilson stumble into a relationship, but they run into problems before long.

Around We Go Once More - Rated E

Stuck in a small university town out of the country with Wilson, House is up to day 104, of a ‘grounghog day’ style constatly recurring day scenario. Seeing as the day will repeat, he figures it would be safe to try and seduce Wilson; the one he’s always been attracted to, but never acted on it, for fear it would ‘ruin the friendship.’ This is not as easy as he planned, particularly as Wilson refuses to take him seriously.

Stay With Me - Rated E

House has always depended on Wilson’s friendship, but now he finds himself depending on him for his very life - and Wilson realizes that both mean more to him than he ever realized.

I’ll See You In Court - Rated E

Every year, the council chooses ten alphas to participate in the breeding run — this year Wilson has been chosen. He’ll be forced to bond with whichever omega he knocks up whilst he’s in heat. When House hears, he’s forced to take action. There’s only one way to get pulled from the yearly run, and taht’s to file an intent to bond. And in order to file an intent to bond, you need an omega willing to go through with it.

There’s only a week until Wilson’s heat, but luckily, House knows just the omega for the job.

Things That Go Bump - Rated E

Wilson has nightmares. House gets a headache. Everyone tries to diagnose just what’s going on between them.

If He Spends That Dough (Imma Throw Him a Bone) - Rated E

James Wilson loves to feel needed, so who is hOuse to refuse him?

Money, sex, and love is all you need. In that order.

Howler Tone - Rated E

The calls always happen late at night, and they’re extremely sporadic, with weeks, sometimes months bridging between them. They talk on the phone otherwise, of course; about patients, or dinner plans, or carpooling. Typical stuff. But the calls that always end a certain way always start a certain way.

House develops a new vice. Wilson, as always, enables him.

He Won’t Tell You That He Loves You - Rated E

In which Nolan pulls at the Wilson thread, and House can’t stop it all from unraveling. Repression is a hell of a drug.

A Valuable Friend - Rated E

Wilson has been recieving mysterious late night phone calls. He’s rather House kept his nose out of it - but we all know how well that goes.

Baby Mikey - Rated E

House gets a visitor that will change his life, while Wilson struggles to figure out exactly who he is and where he fits into House’s new life.

Buy Some Time, It’s On My Dime - Rated E

The one where House is a phone sex operator.

You’re So Fuckin’ Special (Run) - Rated E

It was full of pictures.

And all of them are of Wilson.

In Every Lie, In Every Truth That You’d Deny - Rated E

Wilson just needs someone to take care of while he recovers from yet another divorce. That’s all this is.

Ath least, that’s what House thinks.

A Patient’s Guide to Living with ICS - Rated E

House and Wilson share a hotel room at a medical conference.

Hooked (On Feeling Low) - Rated E

There are things even House cannot control.

Can Wilson continue picking up the pieces?

A Modest Proposal - Rated E

Tritter’s case agianst House still depends on subpoenaeded testimony from Wilson. To save House from losing everything, the doctors of PPTH decide on an unusal solution, which in turn leads to unexpected consequences. This is a story about the sacrifices we make that turn out not to be such great sacrifices after all.

Silk, Lace, and Satin Bows - Rated E

“What’re those,” House lilted, taking a firmer hold on the blanket and tugging, even as Wilson cluched the blanket to his chest, his eyse impossibly wide as he shook his head.

“It’s nothing,” Wilson gritted out, cheeks flushing hotly. “I just… I borrowed some underwear from Sam. It’s nothing. Just get out, House,” the younger man hissed, clutching the blanket more firmly to his chest.

The Marrying Kind - Rated E

The one where House is a wedding planner and Wilson keeps on getting married.

TGIF - Rated E

House is stuck living the same Friday over and over and over and over again. A Groundhog Day AU with a medical mystery, the pursuit of true love, and egregious references to Bill Murray and Andie MacDowell.

Correlation Does Not Equal Causation - Rated E

“This… this hasn’t happened before.”

“Most people say that in the opposite situation.”

Alternatively titled: Wilson Doesn’t Actually Have Whiskey Dick

Don’t mind me just adding another fic here.

Grin and Bear It - Rated E

In a world where soulmates can feel each other’s pain, Wilson had always grown up wondering if he really had a soulmate. Sure, he could feel the occasional twinge like that of a bruise or cut without actually seeing one, but he had always chalked those up to random aches and pains that everybody got.

Wilson would keep this mindset until both he and House begin feeling agonizing leg pain, and a realization dawning from it causes Wilson’s entire life and well-being to change forever.

I’m always looking for new Fics so if there’s a fic you think is missing from this list, let me know and I’ll check it out!

[oneforthemunny]

FUN GAME MY ROLL IS:

5,E,$

yay!!! your roll is: rockstar!eddie, all fours, and paddle ;)

for those wanting to know where this falls in the lore timeline of nepo baby!reader and rockstar!eddie, i'm thinking newly weds lol. as always, minors dni. dom/sub themes, spanking, nipple clamps, .

"How do you want me?"

"All fours," Eddie looked over his shoulder, standing in front of his 'wall of weapons' as he called it- racks of canes, crops, cuffs, clamps, and everything else he needed to play. It was an upgrade from the torture trunk he used to take with him everywhere, a must have when he built the house and added the sex dungeon.

You slid over the silk sheets, onto the edge of the bed, turning towards the mirrored wall that met the matching ceiling. You knew Eddie would want you facing that way, in the mirror so you could see yourself, see him. He'd blindfold you if he didn't, but he always preferred it this way.

"Mm," Eddie groaned, pulling you from your thoughts. You looked at him through the mirror, his tongue running over his lip hungrily, taking in your bare and exposed backside. "Look at you, baby."

Your body burned with pricking heat, spreading like wildfire down to your core. "What?" You giggled coyly, hooking your chin over your shoulder, lashes batting towards him. "What's wrong?"

Eddie's lips pulled in a grin. "Nothin's wrong. You just look good." His calloused hand smoothed over the soft skin of your thigh, up to grab a firm handful of your ass. "Look so good for me. I've just missed this." He sighed contently, nearly lovingly.

You blinked at him, hips swaying a little. "It's been so long since we've gotten to do this. Been away for so fuckin' long, felt like forever." Eddie muttered, his hand gliding up your spine.

"I know," You hummed. "I've missed you, too." You added with a playful smile that made his own heart swell.

"Good," Eddie hummed, reaching in the back pocket of his jeans. "I picked your favorite." He twirled it around, showing off the flimsy, leather paddle. Black and rounded, he got it in Amsterdam a few years ago. Eddie drug you into this lewd yet snooty sex shop, let you pick it out. An early memory of your relationship, that was just starting to bud and bloom at the time.

"Ooh," You giggled. "Are you going soft on me, Munson? Getting mushy with age?" You teased, biting your bottom lip seductively.

Eddie snorted lightly, lips twitching in amusement, spinning the paddle around. "Yeah? We'll see if you'll think that in a little bit." He smirked, patting your hip a little firmer than he usually would, a foreshadowing of what was to come.

He opted for the softer nipple clamps, adjustable and without the weight, a small chain hooking between each. You writhed in pleasure filled pain when he fastened them on, rolling your nipple between his fingers before hooking the clamp onto the hardened bud, grinning when you whimpered.

"Still feel like I'm going soft?" Eddie asked, gently dragging the leather paddle up your thighs, over your backside, between your legs.

"Well, you didn't use the clamps with the weights on them," You quipped, eyeing him challengingly. "So maybe."

Eddie grinned, softly tapping the paddle to your left cheek. "Oh, I see how you're gonna be." He couldn't even feign disapproval, much to excited for your little bratty demeanor. "Better keep those eyes forward, or I'll get the cane. Understand?"

You nodded, head moving to look at yourself through the mirror. Your pussy throbbed, squeezing around nothing but an aching need to be filled when Eddie softly tapped the paddle to your ass. The room fell silent, the paddle lifting, before cutting through the air with a faint whistle, a loud clap of impact shocking you before the searing pain did.

You gritted, back arching only a little, clamps wiggling and tugging at the impact. You lifted your eyes back forward, watching Eddie lift the paddle again. "Oh!" You grit, the next two strikes of the paddle, one to each cheek making you ache, beginning to build the painful pressure.

Eddie brought the paddle down again and again, building a slow rhythm that began to crescendo, alternating from cheek to cheek, to your sit spots, the top of your thighs. Your nails dug into the silk sheets beneath you, legs wobbling and burning with the straining urge to clamp together. A final spank had you sliding forwards, body shaking with pleasure, glassy eyed and mind numbed with aching need.

Eddie grinned, watching you tremble, falling apart in front of him. Oh, how he'd missed this- how he'd missed you. Sliding his jeans off, he crawled onto the bed, slotting his body between yours, pulling at the chain on your clamps, mouth hot and taking in your own. He pushed your leg up, hooked it over his hip, a wolfish grin spreading over his features when you whimpered, sensitive skin making contact with the sheets. Clawing to him, he pushed into you, head falling into the crook of your neck, a much more loving fucking than what you usually got after playing like this, but one you didn't mind- you'd missed him.

[ericshoney]

Mini Matt in the May vlog ~ Sturniolo Triplets

Summary: Based on their latest vlog, sorry if some bits seem muddled up. I'm trying to remember everything, I probably won't add everything as well.

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

You had gone back with the guys to Boston. Getting a chance to catch up with your dad, their parents, Justin and Nate. The guys had planned to do a bit of vlogging throughout the time and your first stop was the aquarium. You were also happy Madison had joined getting a chance to hang around another girl after becoming good friends with her.

"Dude look at the size of that octopus!" You exclaimed, as you got closer to the tank.

"Eww." Chris mumbled.

"Don't say eww." Madison said, as if to tell him off, but Chris only laughed.

"If they said I could put my hand in there right now and she'd wrap around it, I would." She continued.

"That would be kinda cool." You mentioned.

"I don't like the fact it's called their suckers." Chris responded.

You laughed and continued walking around, checking out everything. You bought a matching penguin to Nick's from the gift shop as the others, minus Chris, got their turtle hats.

"I'm so happy there are gay penguins." Nick said, making you giggle.

~~~~

A couple days later you took a seat at the kitchen island, listening to Matt talk about his nightmares.

"You know what's scary?" You called, as Matt finished talking.

"What?" Nick called.

"I had a similar nightmare too." You answered.

"Really!" Chris shouted.

"Yeah." You said with a nod.

"Man, Mini Matt dreaming like Matt too." Chris said with a chuckle.

You all laughed at his words, wondering how many times that would happen.

After you arrived at your next destination, walking through the woods, it seemed relaxing, until Matt started screaming penis. You laughed as Nick kept telling him off.

"Don't you start." Nick said, giving you a side eye.

"I'm not gonna scream penis." You said between giggles.

"You Mini Matt, who knows what you'll do." Nate replied with a laugh.

You laughed again as you continued your walk, Matt talking about beavers. You were just happy to be out of the house for a while.

You then all returned to Nate's place, ready for some game he and Nick came up with. You sat around the table and watched as he pulled out a toy crocodile and Nate pulled out some lemon juice, as Nick explained the game.

"Help me." You whispered to the camera, Chris laughing as he sat next to you.

You all had a turn pressing a tooth on the crocodile, squealing when it wasn't you chosen. It then slammed shut on Nick's finger, making you laugh and him scream as he took the shot of lemon juice. You carried on again until it chose Nick again.

"Fuck! It's rigged." He shouted as he took another shot.

You and Nate were the lucky ones as it never landed on either of you, making you happy.

"Me and Nate must be lucky!" You cheered as you cleaned up.

"Next time, kid." Matt said, making you stick your tongue out at him.

~~~~

"What the fuck is that!"

Are the first words you heard as you come back from the bathroom, only to see the four boys crowded around the window. The movie had been paused as Chris held the camera up, vlogging whatever was on the curtain.

"What's going on?" You asked, joining the group.

"There's a fucking centipede on the curtain!" Matt exclaimed.

"Yeah fuck no I'm out!" You shouted, jumping on the sofa behind you.

You then watched as the guys tried to fight the bug, four grown men against one bug, but it was so fast. You held onto Chris and Nate as Nick and Matt killed the bug, laughing as Matt used his shoe and Nick used grandpa's cane.

"People are gonna have so much fun with this content." You said.

"To all the bug loving freaks out there, where were you!" Nick said to the camera.

"My heroes!" You teased, hugging Matt, who laughed but hugged you back.

"Well, back to the movie." Chris said.

You all laughed, keeping an eye out for anymore bugs and knew this was a trip back to remember.

[aspiring-house-husband]

werewolves attempt to keep to themselves, mostly. they live as wolf packs in state game lands and national parks, keeping the ecological balance. every once in a while they’ll live on unclaimed lands, and when they do, they eventually make deals with landowners. 

your pack lives on thousands of acres owned by one man. he lives a fairly modest life; he just wants to keep out in the woods and tend his koi ponds. he is quite respectful to your pack, waving when you travel by and staying out of the part of the forest that you’ve requested. 

he’s never a problem. occasionally, though, he brings guests. those you have to watch more closely. 

they’re always good, too. you have to assume that the owner talks to them, tells them not to go off his paths, tells them to clean up after themselves. but that doesn’t meant that there can’t be sentries posted to make sure they don’t wander too far. 

usually, it’s the same family. must be some friends of the owner who bring their progeny. there’s a grandfather with his cane and his wisdom. there’s his daughter, with her happy smile and tendency to keep the campfires roaring. and then the daughter’s children. 

she has an oldest son, the most responsible. he has a family of his own now, a wife and toddler son to chase around and feed marshmallows to. there’s a middle daughter, who travels and has stories to tell. 

and not every time, but with rare luck, their youngest son travels to join them. and whenever you’re on sentry duty, he catches your eye. 

the others are respectful. they have fun, they clean up, they sigh and enjoy the wind. the youngest, though, he seems to revel in it. he strolls around the large fields and checks himself for ticks. he turns his face to the wind and closes his eyes like he can understand the twists and breezes. he runs barefoot, and while he’s not very fast, his form is almost familiar. he points out poison ivy and knows which woods burn the best and can tell which streams are safe to drink. he’s a bit small, but the way he entertains and plays with his nephew makes you imagine him taking care of pups, and even though you know it won’t take, you crave to fuck him full of them. 

he’s perfect. and one weekend, when all the others leave, he stays alone. 

the property is wide and beautiful. the parts of it that are more ‘tamed’ include a pond, a fire pit, a hammock, and an elevated pavilion. he sits there most of the day, just looking off into the forest. he almost seems like he longs for it. 

so you’re a bit daring. you stalk forward from the woods, hulking and rippling muscle and canine teeth parted to allow scent to pass through. 

he seems scared, but he doesn’t move. he lets you travel to him, and only twenty feet away does he step back. so you sit down and transform, and you watch his handsome face as he realizes what you are. 

“hello,” you tell him, and he shakes his head like he can’t believe what he’s seeing. you can’t blame him. he’s speechless, even a moment later, so you stand and approach him. he holds his ground this time, letting you come all the way up to his space, letting your hands wander over his torso. he seems to entertain you, letting you do as you please. 

emboldened, you tilt his chin up, and lavish your tongue over his neck. he’s missing the scent gland there, but you don’t mind, his own scent is perfect enough. he lets out a soft sigh, and that’s all you need. 

there’s a fancy table in the center of the pavilion. all it matters to you is that it doesn’t tip when you lift him and set him on it, pulling his clothing from his body. he can’t help but to touch you as you do, now gingerly giving kisses back across his shoulders and neck, and he teases his teeth across your skin. the sensation sets you alight, and even moreso you want him. you want him as yours. 

your weeping cock slides between his thighs a few times before he opens his legs to you and lays back, arching up his back as you prep him sloppily and hastily with your fingers. it’s all you have not to fuck into him, to pop your knot inside him, claim him and mark him and bite him and change him. you can barely stop yourself, but you do, and your reward is his sultry moan as you fuck him onto your fingers. 

you tell him your name just so he can moan it as you finally thrust inside him, all the way up to your swollen knot. he all but screams, bucking his hips already in pleasure, whimpering and panting. if you didn’t know better, you’d think him in heat. 

“please, please,” he begs, and you don’t know what he begs for, but even so you grab onto his hips and thrust into him, building a rhythm that hints to a crescendo of his moans getting higher and higher pitched, his legs locking behind you, his hole clamping down on you. you start to fear you won’t fit inside him with how desperately he tightens around you, so you pull him to you as you snap your hips forward, and he paints his own chest with the force of his orgasm at being knotted. 

you collapse onto his chest, still weakly thrusting as you pump him full. you can’t help but clamp your teeth down, only controlling yourself enough to not break skin. he lifts one hand to pet your hair, panting under your body, still sounding and smelling of heat. 

you have him twice more before the day is up. he turns up at a lot more of those family gatherings after that. he lounges in the woods with you, promising that one day, he’ll let you bite him for real, and bind him to the forest for good. 

[yeetskeetstreet]

Accusations and Words | Daemon x Reader

I AM A SIMP FOR DAEMON RN.

S/N = son’s name

D/N = daughter’s name

if anyone wants me to make this a series, feel free to name the kids!

(Laena never married Daemon, their kids exist with an unnamed father, obvi no Rhaenyra & Daemon.)

This piece has no identifying features for reader other than a non-blonde hair colour, and is NOT of targaryen descent.

CONTENT WARNING: swearing, blood, child abuse, fighti- honestly, its game of thrones, lets be real here.

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

Y/N and Daemon burst into the hall, the doors flying open, (a knight behind said door was startled by their entrance).

Rhaenyra looked almost relieved as her uncle and his wife arrived after the handmaiden had been sent to fetch them. Luke was to her left, Jace in front of him, while Daemon and Y/N's son, of age ten, and daughter, of age seven stood to Rhaenyra's right. S/N held his sisters hand, as she hid behind him, her face buried into his back.

"S/N! D/N! What happened?" Y/N ran directly to her children, placing a hand on the side of her son's face, looking at his bruised eye and bloody nose. Her other hand briefly grabbed Rhaenyra's, squeezing it in thanks, for protecting her children.

Daemon, on the other hand, stood next to his wife, narrowed eyes aimed at Queen Alicent, taking in the sight of her enraged expression, and the Maester stitching up his beloved nephew.

D/N didn't move from behind her brother, while (S/N) looked at his mother, speaking to her quietly, "Aemond took Vhagar, he hit Rhaena and was going to kill Luke. He- He.." S/N looked down at his feet, "He called us bastards. Luke, Jace, Me and D/N. It was Jace's knife but I cut him I swear."

Y/N just nodded and sighed quietly, looking at her son before standing, S/N standing in between his mother and Rhaenyra.

Rhaenyra spoke calmly, "There was an incident involving the children. Jace and S/N... defended their siblings and Laena's daughters."

"Defended? Defended you say! My son has been maimed. Your sons are responsible. They were trying to kill him." Alicent almost squealed towards the family, Aemond refusing to turn to look at anyone, even his mother.

Y/N simply directed her daughter towards her father, who simply plucked the small child from the floor, tucking her head into his neck, holding her tightly.

Rhaenyra stood tall, "it was our son's who were attacked and forced to defend themselves. Vile insults were levied against them."

Y/N looked to Daemon who stood close to her right, it was an easy guess as to what these insults pertained too. Alicent had always whispered and questioned the legitimacy of both Rhaenyra and Y/N's children. While Rhaenyra's sons were clearly that of Ser Harwin Strong, (a fact Rhaenyra had been honest about to both Y/N and Daemon) they had all agreed to keep it a secret for the safety of her family.

Daemon was always angered by these rumours, his son carried her hair, both his children carried his pale complexion and his daughter had inherited his Targaryen locks. It was clear D/N was his child, a spitting image of Daemon with her mother's face. His son took Daemon's face, even his expressions the young boy had yet to learn to hide.

Viserys finally limped into the room, moving forward slowly away from the throne with his cane, "I will have the truth of what happened. Now."

The children in the room burst into words, Aemond yelling how he was attacked for no reason, Rhaena and Baela accusing the prince of stealing their mother's dragon, Luke and Jace backing the girl's claims, throwing out accusations of Aemond's attacks.

Y/N's children stayed silent, her daughter still clutching at her father, and her son had his eyes trained fiercely at the King, almost refusing to let his resolve crack under the pressure.

The adults in the room simply stood and watched, until Viserys called for silence. "Aemond. I will have the truth of what happened. Now."

Alicent quickly turned to her husband, "What else is there to hear? Your son has lost an eye!"

Viserys simply ignored his wife, "It was a regrettable accident."

"They meant to kill my son! Prince Lucerys and S/N brought a blade to the ambush."

Y/N was quick to add her piece, "Not only was Rhaenyra's integrity questioned, but mine as well. The Prince Aemond called our children bastards, Your Grace. To question the legitimacy of our children's lineage? That is the highest of treasons, Your Grace."

Viserys addressed his brother's wife, "Prince Aemond will be sharply questioned so we might learn where he heard such slanders."

Alicent scoffed "Over an insult? Over training yard bluster?"

Viserys stepped towards his youngest son, "You tell me boy, where did you hear this lie?" The boy avoided eye contact with his father.

"Aemond. Look at me. Your king demands an answer. Who spoke these lies to you?"

Aemond hesitated for a second, his eyes raising to his mother, before is voice sounded out in the room, "It was Aegon."

Viserys flung his attention to his other son, and almost hissed out at the gob smacked Prince.

"And you, boy? Tell me the truth of it!" Viserys was quickly losing his patience.

Aegon simply looked at the floor "Everyone knows. Just look at them."

Viserys stepped back to his throne, addressing the room "This interminable infighting must cease. All of you. We are a family. Now make your apologies and show good will to one another."

Alicent held her chin high, her eyes watering, "Good will cannot make him whole again. There is a debt to be paid."

Y/N, Daemon and Rhaenyra watched the exchange between the two monarchs with baited breath, each hoping that Viserys would not backing down from his rage-fuelled wife.

Daemon handed his daughter to Corlys, who had left his grand-daughters with his wife. He could feel the tension in the room arise again, and was waiting for it to peak.

However, Alicent had already made up her mind, "If the king will not seek justice. The Queen will. Ser Criston, bring me the eye of Lucerys Velaryon and S/N Targaryen. They can choose which eyes to keep, a privledge they did not grant my son."

As Ser Criston took a step forward, Viserys was quick to halt to knights progress. Rhaenyra pushed her sons behind her, as Daemon stepped forward, slightly in front of his wife and son. Corlys was quick to grab the rest of the Targaryen children and muster them away from the commotion towards his wife.

A handful trusted knights who were loyal to the two Targaryen's and their families had stepped closer to Rhaenyra and Y/N. The knights priority was the two women, Daemon's hand rested on the hilt of his sword. (Every man and his dog knew Daemon could handle himself if it came down to a fight.)

"Alicent. this matter is finished. Do you understand." Viserys addressed the room next, "And let it be known, anyone whos tongue dares to question the birth of my grandsons, nieces or nephews, should have it removed."

Rhaenyra stood tall, "Thank you, Father."

Daemon simply made eye contact with his brother, and nodded firmly silently thanking his brother for protecting his family. Viserys gave his brother a small nod in return.

Y/N turned to her husband, grabbing his hand off the hilt of his sword, holding eye contact as they began to communicate without words. Daemon sighed, nodding his head sadly squeezing his wife's hand.

Rhaenyra had turned around, her back to the rest of the room, and took a few steps to move closer to the children, still huddled together behind them.

Yelling made Rhaenyra stop in her tracks, turning in horror, "Y/N! Behind you!"

The next few seconds were chaos, one second, yelling from Viserys and Ser Harrold filled the room, "Alicent!" "Hold your approach". "Stay your hand, Cole!" "Stay with the King!" "Mother!" "Y/N! No!"

The next, Y/N was hold Alicent's forearms as she brandished the Kings valyrian steel knife towards her.

Y/N could see the knights surround her and the Queen, as well as he husband intercepting Criston Cole from moving closer to the two women.

Alicent looked at Y/N in horror, and almost whimpered out her words, "What have I done but what was expected of me?"

Y/N was almost sympathetic towards the women, "Alicent, You've gone too far."

"You take my son's eye, and to even that, you feel entitled."

"Exhausting, isn't it? Hiding beneath the cloak of your own righteousness. But now - now they see you as they are."

Alicent cried out and pushed Y/N away, dragging the blade down Y/N's forearm. Blood pouring down her hand, gathering into a puddle on the floor.

Y/N gasped and pulled away, gripping her arm, she fell backwards, and was caught by Rhaenyra, a deathly gaze on her face, directed at Alicent. "Are you proud of yourself, 'Your Grace'?"

Daemon moved quickly over to his wife, his face showing no emotion, and attended to her arm, ripping fabric from her dress to wrap her arm tightly, trying to stop the blood that was still flowing down her hand.

The King was yelling at his wife in the background, who was swiftly removing her children to their chambers, the other bystanders in the room heeding the King's warnings, making their own exits and dispersing into the castle.

Y/N rested her head on her husbands shoulder, shaking slightly in his grasp. Daemon was whispering comforting words in her ear, trying to calm her down.

Rhaenyra had pulled her two oldest children close to her, watching as Daemon picked his daughter up, while Y/N held her son by his shoulders.

Y/N looked at her daughter in her husbands arms, Rhaena and Baela holding themselves close to Rhaenys, Jace and Luke who watched their mother with tears in their eyes.

She took a shaky breath, "We need to be careful, I always knew Alicent was trying to get us, but the events of tonight have finally revealed the lengths she will go too. Rhaenyra, I know his your father, Daemon, your brother, but we can no longer rely on Viserys to protect us any longer. Corlys, Rhaenys, I must apologise to you, your grand daughters don't deserve to be dragged into our mess."

The group was quiet as Y/N's words sunk in. Corlys ushered his wife and grandchildren from the room, Rhaenyra following behind after embracing Y/N closely.

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

S/N grabbed his mothers hand as the four walked back to their chambers, Y/N looking at a worried Daemon, "I know I wanted to stay in King's Landing, to be near our family, but maybe it would be safer for us and our children to go to Dragonstone. We should ask Rhaenyra to come with us."

Daemon barely reacted, looking up to look at his distressed wife. He pulled his daughter closer, and briefly looked at their son. "Let the children rest, we can speak to Rhaenyra first thing in the morning. For now, let us ignore the issues within the walls and be with our family."

[laurenairay]

every breath, every hour has come to this - S. Jarvis

Summary: Seth Jarvis was your best friend, your rock, your protector…but could he ever be anything more?

This is my entry for @callsign-denmark’s Luck of the Puck fic exchange! I’ve written a Seth Jarvis story for @mp0625, and I really hope you like this – it’s my first time writing for him and I had a lot of fun with it! Thanks for providing some really great prompts for me to work with.

Words: 2.5k

Warnings: some bad language, hurt/comfort, alcohol, terrible date, I fudged the Canes’ game schedule.

Title from: A thousand years, Christina Perri

~

For as long as you could remember, Seth had always been in your life. Two peas in a pod, two goofy little kids, always attached at the hip. Even as hockey became more and more of a fixture in his life, you were right there in the stands, cheering him on at the top of your lungs as his biggest fan. You were his staunchest supporter, always giving him reassurance when his self-confidence cracked or faltered. He was your loyal protector, pushing away anyone that was ever mean to you, including shitty boyfriends. Everyone knew in your small suburb in Winnipeg that where one of you went, the other was sure to follow.

So it was exactly no surprise to your parents (and his) when you followed him down to Raleigh the moment his entry level contract was signed.

You didn’t know what you would do without his energetic personality lighting up your day, the ultimate hype-man even before dates that both of you knew weren’t going to end well, or his sweet smiles in a terrible morning after a fantastic night out with his team. You didn’t know what you would do without his built arms wrapped around you on the sofa while you watched awful reality tv or cheesy movies, broad shoulders perfectly places to rest your head on, and especially waking up after a shared nap together, cementing his self-proclaimed King of Naps title.

Or seeing him wake up from a nap by himself, and his whole face lighting up when he saw you there too.

For as long as you could remember, you’d been in love with Seth, and there was nothing you could do about it. You’d seen the girls Seth went on dates with, and they were nothing like you. Even when the two of you were going on your first dates when you were barely teenagers, his ‘type’ seemed to be the complete opposite of you – so you’d always endeavoured to make sure the guys you dated were the opposite of him. It was the only way to preserve your heart, to keep your incredible friendship with Seth as wholesome and solid as you needed it to be, and not once had you ever messed that up.

Seth Jarvis was the best person in your life and you never wanted that to change. Not for anything. That didn’t mean that you didn’t know how hard your life was going to be when he eventually found his soulmate – but that was a problem for future you, and you refused to do anything but live in the moment.

Speaking of living in the moment…

“Hey Seth, do these shoes go with this dress?”

Living with your best friend really did have its perks – you could always guarantee an honest opinion on your outfit from him.

“Hmm, you can’t go wrong with a little black dress and nice black heels, but where is he taking you?”

“Does that matter?”

“Well yeah, you like those shoes and I know you don’t want them to get ruined by a sticky floor,” Seth pointed out.

He really did know you so well.

“He said he’s taking me out to dinner, but he didn’t tell me where or what the venue was like,” you admitted.

You ignored Seth rolling his eyes.

“The dress is gorgeous but I would change your shoes if you aren’t sure. Maybe those black ankle boots? Not too casual but not too fancy,” Seth suggested.

Incredible.

“You are amazing,” you grinned, jogging back to your room to kick your shoes off.

“And don’t you forget it!”

You just laughed at his shout across the apartment, pulling on the ankle boots he suggested. Just as you thought, he was right. With a swipe of lipgloss,  you were ready, so you grabbed your leather jacket and headed back out of your room.

“Hey, sweetheart?”

“Yeah Seth?” you asked, spinning on your heel.

“Have fun tonight. You look amazing – don’t let him forget that,” Seth said seriously, making you laugh, “And if you need anything, anything at all, call me.”

“You’re going to be my knight in shining armour?” you teased.

“With a guy you don’t know taking you out for a first date on St Patrick’s Day? Absolutely,” Seth mused.

Well you couldn’t fault him there.

“Wish me luck!”

“Luck.”

~

If only you’d know just how right Seth would be.

“Seth?” you whimpered, hiccupping into your phone.

“Woah, hey, what’s wrong?”

“I know it’s only been three hours, but can you pick me up?” you pleaded.

“Of course, I’ll leave right now. Three hours or three minutes, it doesn’t matter. Send me your location pin, but stay on the line?”

You just sniffed, nodding even though you knew he couldn’t see you, doing as he asked.

“Okay, I have it. That’s a real shitty bar, sweetheart.”

You choked out a sob. He had no idea. “Real shitty date too.”

“What did he do?”

You could hear him running out of your shared apartment, down the stairs rather than waiting for the elevator, and your heart ached with how willingly he dropped his peaceful evening just to help you.

“He lied about taking me out to dinner. Instead he took me to a bar where a bunch of his friends were, and when I asked him why he lied he told me he wanted to celebrate St Patrick’s Day with his buddies and thought I could come along. Which, fine, okay, he thought I would get on with his friends, so I went along with it. Most of his friends were fine, welcoming even, but they were getting drunker and rowdier and I don’t mind that if I’m with people I know and trust like you or your friends, but with strangers? No way. And then he…”

You trailed off, groaning at the memory, Seth just cursing under his breath. You could hear him driving, not even caring for once that he was probably breaking the speed limit. You just wanted him here.

“What did he do?”

“He started getting handsy. Slapping my ass, pulling me into his body with an arm around my waist, all of that shit, making his friends laugh even though it was obvious I was uncomfortable. But then he grabbed at my boobs and-”

“He fucking what?”

Over all the years of Seth protecting you from nasty dates and boyfriends, you’d never heard him so angry. Never.

“He groped me, in front of everyone. But I shoved him away immediately, I swear!” you insisted.

“Hey, I believe you sweetheart. I know that stuff makes you uncomfortable. I swear I’m going to kill him, I’ll-”

“No, no, I don’t want you to get in trouble, okay? I left the bar already,” you said firmly.

“You left the bar? But your location says…”

“I’m outside the bar, still in eyesight of the bouncer just in case, but I’m outside. I walked out the bar because I couldn’t stand to be near him after him threw the remainder of his beer at me for rejecting him.”

“He fucking what?!”

Okay, that was the angriest you’d ever heard him.

“Told you he was a shitty date,” you mumbled, sniffing again as your eyes stung with tears once more.

“This is not your fault. He was an absolute asshole and none of this is on you.”

“Just my luck, right?” you said, huffing out a bitter laugh.

Seth just cursed under his breath again, continuing to mutter about how men were shit and you deserved better and all the things that usually would put such a smile on your face…but right now it just made you want to be home, safe with him, curled up in his arms. Nothing felt better than being with Seth and it was only because of the few drinks that you had that you allowed yourself to think like this. Thankfully, it couldn’t have been more than 10 minutes before you saw a familiar car screeching into the parking lot, and you finally felt like you could breathe.

He pulled to a stop only metres away from you, and you wasted no time in walking over to him, even as he got out of the car and slammed his door shut, jogging over to meet you halfway.

“Shit, sweetheart, look at you,” Seth scowled.

You groaned softly as he took in your blurred mascara and beer-soaked top, and grabbed his hand to break his attention.

“Can we just go? I want to get as far away from here as possible.”

You rested a hand on his chest, gently guiding him backwards towards his car, out of earshot of the bouncer and anyone else who deigned to leave, Seth’s fuming expression never leaving the dive bar you were walking away from.

“Is he still inside? Is that asshole still in there?” Seth demanded.

“Hey, no, come on, leave it. He’s not worth it,” you pleaded.

“He doesn’t get to treat you like that and get away with it. No-one gets to treat you like that, you hear me? No-one.”

Your breath hitched in your throat and your body thrummed with heat at his furious words, his eyes wild in a way you’d only ever seen on the ice. His fists were clenched, his nostrils were flared, and his shoulders were squared, all the while his cheeks flushing with anger as well. It was only the brief flash of desperation across his face that let you know he wasn’t mad at you – no, this was Seth’s protective side coming out in full force, dialled up to 1000.

“Seth, I…”

You trailed off, running a hand through your hair as you struggled to find words to defend yourself, relying in his car to lean against and keep you upright. He might not have been mad at you, but it still didn’t feel good to know that your situation was making him react like this.

“It’s not like I go out of my way to date assholes,” you eventually managed, “they just seem to find me.”

“Shit, sweetheart, I’m not accusing you of anything. I just…”

He cut himself off, seeming to need a moment to think, and you waited silently for him to give you something. Anything. Eventually he cleared his throat, the wildness in his eyes replaced by an anguish that made your heart ache.

“I can’t take it anymore. I just wish you’d see what you could have, right in front of you.”

What?

What was he talking about?

Right in front of you?

The more seconds the silence stretched on, the more your confused thoughts swirled and the more frustrated Seth looked, until he groaned in frustration.

“I’m talking about me,” he said through gritted teeth, looking like he wanted to be literally anywhere else.

Oh.

Oh.

Oh shit.

“You?��� you repeated, your voice cracking.

“Yeah and now I wish I’d never said a damn thing so can we please pretend that you’re really drunk instead of tipsy, and never talk about it again?” Seth muttered, avoiding your eyes.

As all of his words started to sink in, you found yourself shaking your head as decades-buried hope dared to surface.

“You’ve never said anything at all! You like me?” you said, needing him to say it again.

Seth huffed out a laugh, still not looking particularly comfortable.

“How could I say anything? I’m nothing like any of the guys you’ve ever dated,” he muttered.

“Because I purposely date guys that are nothing like you!” you shot back.

“What?”

You groaned as embarrassed heat filled your cheeks, turning your head away to give you a chance to save a scrap of dignity, but then Seth’s hand was cupping your face, gently turning you back to look at him properly. Never had he touched you like this, so delicately and with such purpose. His eyes were a storm, barely giving you anything to go on outside of the intensity, and it was all you could do to let out a shaky breath as he dropped his hand but stepped a little closer.

“I’m going to need you to give me a bit more than that, sweetheart,” Seth said, barely more than a murmur, edge of his voice a little rough, “What do you mean?”

“I purposely date guys that are nothing like you…because you’ve had my heart for longer than I care to remember. I never thought you could ever be interested in me because of the girls you date, and the thought of dating someone even a little bit similar to you was heartbreaking, so I just…went for the complete opposite. Clearly it’s been working out really well,” you said, choking off a bitter laugh as you finished.

Seth’s lips parted in surprise, and for once he was stunned into silence. It was only the fact that he hadn’t moved to step away that saved you from wanting to curl into a ball on the cold ground. Still, that didn’t stop the anguish from building inside of you like a volcano ready to erupt at the slightest provocation.

Eventually he let out a shaky breath, smiling weakly.

“We’ve wasted so much time,” he said softly, shaking his head.

What?

“We…have?” you asked, still in disbelief.

“We have.” Seth nodded, smiling at you in a way that encouraged you to finally smile back at him, giddy without being able to stop yourself, “You’re my goddamned soulmate, how could I ever want anyone but you? And knowing now that you’ve felt the same way all this time? It’s everything. I wish I could say I’ve been playing the long game but honestly I never thought you’d ever want me back. But we need to put a pin in this conversation until tomorrow.”

What? Why?

You didn’t know what was showing on your face but it made Seth laugh – a little deliriously, maybe, but a bright laugh that you were so used to all the same.

“You’ve been drinking, sweetheart. You’ve literally just ended a bad date covered in beer, as well as had quite an emotional night,” Seth explained.

“That still won’t change how I feel about you in the morning,” you pointed out.

His smile turned a little bashful, but definitely pleased, making the butterflies in your stomach riot.

“Then I look forward to hearing you say it again tomorrow. Just…let me take you home? Away from this gritty old bar parking lot?”

You nodded without hesitation, making him huff out a laugh again but take your hands.

“Take me home, Seth,” you murmured, squeezing his hands, barely able to believe the words coming out of your mouth.

With Seth’s wide grin, it looked like he could barely believe it either.

“We’re going to be amazing, you just wait.”

[peachyfnaf]

Do you have any Eclipse (TSAMS) headcanons?

• Simultaneously the most touch starved and touch averse person you've ever met. He is fr like a cat- if you touch him without permission you're getting bit, but if he let's you touch him and you don't you touch you are Also getting bit. Either you gotta Speak Eclipse or get bitten until you Learn The Language

• Purposefully stops his rays from spinning when he's happy. The only way to get him to spin his rays is if you catch him when he thinks he's alone, or if he trusts you with his life. So good luck with either of those

• I KNOW this man sleeps with a stuffed animal, if not multiple stuffed animals. I feel it in me BONES. Maybe even a blank body pillow, too. Again, he's touch starved

• Just like Sun, he also has cats, but he's actually good at hiding them. They're named Missy and Asteroid. (Both are nick-names of their full names, Missile-Launcher and Asteroid-Destroyer)

• Highkey he's not the worst at singing. He's not a superstar, but give him something soft, slow, and in his range and he'll actually surprise you with how good he sounds

• When alone, he has shrimp ass posture. Candy cane ass posture. Lowercase r ass posture. Thank god people bother him so much and therefore force him to appear Tall because if they didn't he'd develop robot scoliosis

• As we've seen, he's actually not that bad with kids. At least, when he only has to deal with a few at a time and not be overwhelmed with them. Give him 1-4 to take care of and those kids will be pampered, both because Eclipse needs to feel that he's the best at it, and also because the dorito does, indeed, care

• F.C. called him Uncle one time when sleepy and Eclipse thought about that for weeks after. He almost cried about it but simply buried himself in work to not think about it instead <3

• He watches SAMS and LAES, but mostly LAES. He wants to keep in check with Earth, and keep an eye on Lunar. He finds the gameplay videos on both channels the funniest, cause' he likes to scream at the screen whenever one of the Celestials do something dumb

• A small part of him will forever miss the main dimension. He has so much baggage there that it makes sense why he felt the need to leave, but that doesn't stop him from going back and watching old SAMS videos every once in a while. He's watched the EALS takeover more times than he can count. His favorite is the Haunted House Cleaning video game episode