#apparently having Bed Days is not something i should be doing. which means i need a major overhaul.

[vanillabat99]

I don't remember if I said anything here, but I finally got into the Chronic Pain Clinic!! I've had my introductory appointments, and tomorrow I see an occupational therapist!! For the first time, I finally feel like I'm gonna actually get somewhere with my pain, and it's such a relief :3

I've set some goals too!! The main one would be to be able to shower consistently, since I struggle a lot with just getting clean once a week. My other goal is to cook or bake something once a week!! I also put out a third, not so realistic goal, of being able to stand for a choir performance!! The first two are more important to me, but the last one would be nice, even if it's just once.

[allllium]

Secret

~ This took so much longer than I wanted it to, yay writers block right? 😭

~ Angst, Fluff at end, WC:2,737

~Remus is keeping a secret

Your boyfriend is cheating on you. That's the only explanation for the way he's acting. Every month he disappears, not just for an hour or two, but full days. Most of the time he disappears for about two to three days. And even if he doesn't disappear, he acts super weird around you.

You've tried to ask James and Sirius about it, but of course they never say anything. They are loyal to bone, which usually you respect but now it's just frustrating. You thought you were a part of the group, clearly you were wrong.

What are you supposed to do? You've already tried his friends, and spent months obsessing over behavior. Analyzing every little thing he does for you and other people, trying to find out who Remus would rather be with than you. You can't keep feeling like this.

You're in the library, trying and failing to focius on your book. Usually Remus would be here with you, but he's not. You haven't seen him since yesterday morning, when he all but pushed you out of his dorm room.

At first this whole thing was frustrating, and confusing, but now you feel rejected, a feeling your boyfriend should never give you. At first you raked your mind for any other reason why Remus would act like this. You went through things like illness, something about his friends, family maybe, you even thought it might have something to do with school work, but none of those explain why he's nowhere to be seen.

So now here you are. On the verge of tears while sitting in the library, wishing he would just come clean about what he's doing. At least then it would be easier to break up with him. But what can you do without proof, left with nothing but a bad feeling.

“What's wrong, sweetheart?” You are quickly pulled from your thoughts by James’s voice coming from behind you. He's always been incredibly sweet to you, mostly because he thought it would help convince Lily to go out with him, but you also know he's just a naturally good person.

“Fine, Jamie.” You give him the best smile you can muster, obviously he sees right through it. He slings his arm around your shoulder and plops down in the seat next to you.

“What's on your mind?” He seems genuinely concerned but you don't believe it. Real friends tell friends when they're being cheated on. You wish. In real life, however, they always stay loyal to whoever came first. You love that Remus has such great support when he needs it but what about you?

“It's nothing, doesn't matter.” You try your best to reassure him.

“No, something is clearly wrong. How can I help?”

“It's nothing, James, just drop it. Please.” He knows you're serious when you use his real name, usually resorting to some stupid nickname.

“Yeah, okay. If you need anything just let me know.” You only nod as he turns to leave. You take a big breath when you're alone again.

You're honestly trying not to panic. You love Remus, a lot. But you can't be with a cheater, you just can't. And if you break up with him then you lose all your friends, because of course, they were his friends first. Which means you have to start over, all alone. Yeah, no reason to panic.

Over the next few days you don't see Remus. Not because of him, this time it's you trying to disappear. This is what happens, he ignores you for a few days then comes back all clingy as if nothing happened. The first couple times you tried to ask about it but you never got a straight answer. He told you he was busy with his friends or with school, which was clearly a lie, so eventually you stopped asking.

You've had to change your daily routine a lot just to avoid him. Instead of going to his dorm for bed, you go to your own. You're not eating in the dining hall, because he would sit with you. You're sitting away from him in class and turning the other way when you see him in the halls. Apparently your avoidance has been so obvious, McGonagall stopped him after a class to ask what happened. You didn't stay long enough to overhear his answer.

“Oh, Angel!” You hear your boyfriend’s voice call for you in the hallway, you do nothing but walk faster, knowing you won't be able to keep it together long enough to face him right now. “I know you heard me.” His voice is much closer as he grabs your shoulder to stop you. He takes the books out of your hand and holds them behind his back.

“What do you want, Remus?” You ask him, not turning around.

“I want to know why my girlfriend has been ignoring me for days now?”

You no longer feel sad when you finally turn and look at him, the irony of his statement filling you with sudden frustration and anger, “Oh really? What about you Remus? You ignore me for days every month and I still don't have an answer for that!”

He stays silent, analyzing your expression before continuing, “It's different,” is all he says.

“How Remus? I would love for you to explain how exactly this is different.”

“It just is!”

“You know what, I don't even care. Come find me when you can explain, otherwise don't bother.” You feel like you're going to collapse as you walk away, leaving him in the hall, with your books in his hand.

You didn't think it would be this hard. Yet after a few more days have passed it seems Remus took the ‘don't bother’ part of your speech more seriously than any other.

You honestly thought he would at least try to give you any kind of explanation. Even if it is a lie.

James and Sirius haven't talked to you either. Remus obviously told them about what you said, they don't want to be friends with you if you aren't with Remus.

Over the last few days, you've spent a lot more time with Lily and the rest of the girls.

“So, you wanna tell me what happened?” Lily asks you. You're sitting with her in her dorm with Mary and Pandora.

“I don't know what to say.” You shrug. What are you supposed to say? You don't want to tell her Remus is probably cheating on you, on the very off chance he isn't. And you don't want to admit how much you miss being around him.

“What did you guys fight about?” Mary pipes up. At this point the whole school has noticed the behavior between the two of you. Everyone has been talking about it, spreading theories as to why such a happy couple has been acting like this.

“It wasn't a fight,” You begin to explain to the girls, “I told him unless he can tell me why he keeps disappearing I don't wanna talk to him.”

You don't miss the look Lily and Pandora exchange. Mary focuses her gaze onto the floor, none of them look at you as Pandora speaks up this time.

“I mean he probably has a good reason.” She tries to offer.

“And you all know, don't you?” Great, you're officially the only one who doesn't know this secret your boyfriend is keeping.

“It's not what you think.” Lily tells you softly.

“Then why won't he tell me?”

“I don't know,” Lily tells you again, “Maybe you should talk to him.”

“I tried that, but it didn't work.”

“Then don't ask him to talk, tell him you're not happy. I promise he's not trying to hurt you.”

“And how do you know? He apparently told everyone but me Lily, what am I supposed to think?”

No one responds.

“I don't know what to do.” Remus tells his friends, running his hands over his face in despair.

“Well, I vote you stop being a dumbass but we know that won't happen.” Sirius offers him. The four of them haven't left their dorm all day, trying to convince Remus he needs to be honest with you. Actually Peter and Sirius have been trying to convince him, James hasn't talked to him all day. He knows why you were upset in the library and isn't trying to hide his irritation, however, he doesn't want to say something to hurt Remus. So he stays quiet.

“I agree. What's the worst that can happen?” Peter shrugs, you'd think Remus would listen to him considering he's the one in the longest lasting relationship.

“Uh, she could leave me!” He practically shouts, rolling his eyes at the look shared between Sirius and Peter.

“Oh you mean like what she wants to do now?” Remus doesn't even notice who says it, too distracted by the ice running through his veins.

“You really think she'll want to break up over this?” His voice is barely a whisper, the slight heartbreak clear in his tone.

“This is one of the biggest parts of your life and you haven't told her. She knows you've been lying about it and you haven't talked to her once since she said “don't bother.” In my opinion all you're doing is showing her you don't care.” Peter tries his best to explain this gently to Remus. Not wanting to hurt him but knowing Remus won't actually understand till he knows how you feel about it.

“I need to tell her. I just- I don't want her to leave me because of it.”

James lets out an exasperated sigh at Remus's words. “She's not going to leave you for being a werewolf, she loves you just as much as you love her. If she breaks up with you it's because of how long you've kept this a secret.

Another week goes by with no word for Remus. You're started to give up hope that he'll even try to talk to you again. Unless to finally end this relationship. Thinking about either of these options hurt your heart, not wanting this to end or go on.

“It's not until you're leaving the dining hall after dinner that you're pulled into an empty classroom. You can tell by the touch on your wrist that it's him.

“What do you want, Remus?” You immediately ask. You try to keep your face as straight as possible, not wanting him to see how upset you really are.

“I need to explain.”

“Seriously? Now?”

“Can I please just tell you what's going on? You can yell or insult me all you want afterwards, I just need you to know.” He lets go of your wrist but refuses to look away from your face.

You give a small nod in agreement but it's all he needs to jump right into what he wants to say, you have the feeling this whole plan was practiced beforehand.

“I was not trying to hurt you. I love you a lot. More than I have ever loved anything before and I couldn't bear the thought of losing you because I'm not normal. I figured if there were something wrong with who I am, I can change, I can fix that but I can't fix something I have no control over and I felt like I would die if I lost you because of it.”

“Because of what?” Is all you ask.

He takes a deep breath before finally explaining, “I'm a werewolf.”

“Oh screw you.” You roll your eyes and quickly walk out of the classroom.

Remus doesn't follow you out. He stays standing in the empty room for a few minutes, confused about the interaction that just took place.

He comes to your shared class almost halfway through and doesn't look at you until it's over.

“Angel, please talk to me.” Remus begs, following out of the classroom. You shake your head and begin to speed up your walk. He grabs your wrist and pulls you into him, “Baby please.”

“What do you want, Remus? Here to lie to me more.” You turn around to confront him.

“I'm not lying about being a werewolf.” He defends, eyes widening in bewilderment.

“That's not what I'm mad about.” Your tone grows more angry as you talk. “We've been dating for how long now and you don't tell me your biggest secret? You've had me panicking every fucking month wondering where you where and who you were with. All because you what? Can't trust me with this big secret?”

Remus visible winces as your voice grows louder. “Please don't be so loud.”

“Oh yeah! Don't trust me not spill anything!”

“That's not what I meant, love. Can we just talk about this, somewhere private.”

“So what? So you can make up some lame excuses?” You turn again and try to leave.

“No angel, that's not why I didn't tell you.”

You pause. As much as you want to keep walking you love him. Deep inside you know exactly why he didn't tell you but you don't think you can bear to hear him say it. You know it's not because of you but you feel like you failed. You feel as if you failed to make him know just how much you love him, just how worth it he is. You want nothing more than for him to be happy and if he hasn't told you about his big secret clearly he's happy enough with you.

“It has nothing to do with you, I promise. I wanted to tell you so many times, so much more than you know but whenever I tried I couldn't. My mouth wouldn't open as much as I tried. I was terrified that you would leave, I know you never would, okay, I know. But the thought that you could stopped me, it stops me from doing many things.”

“Why?” You ask, tears arriving in your eye line.

“Because I can't live without you. I know how cheesy that sounds but it's true. All my life I've dealt with the consequences of being a werewolf even from people that don't know. You have helped me be myself more than anyone ever has and that's enough. I can't bear the thought of you leaving let alone the thought of knowing I pushed you away. Knowing this pushed you away and it wasn't something I could stop because if I could I would. I know it makes things harder for you. I hear how people talk about you because of my scars and how awkward I am and you don't deserve that, you've made me think that maybe I don't deserve it either. I can't lose you. I can't let this push you away because without you I go back to who I used to be. And now that you've shown me who I really am, I can't go back to being him.”

You listen to his words silently, trying your best not to let the tears fall. He doesn't deserve to feel this way and hearing him admit that makes you want to cry with happiness for him, for yourself in succeeding to make him feel as loved as he is. You want to tell him this but he continues.

“I love you, angel. And I'm so sorry I couldn't get myself to tell you before. I am so sorry I made you worry and made other people lie for me. I don't know what to say except for that. I don't know how I can make this better.”

“You already did, Rem.” This time you turn to face him, seeing the tears on his face break your heart even more. “I mean I can't really fault you for your mouth sabotaging you.”

A small smile blooms on his face. “How dare it.”

“I know what it's like to be that anxiety. I thought you were cheating on me.”

“I would never!” He looks genuinely offended at your words.

“I know baby, but there's still that fear.”

“I'm really sorry.” He pulls you in for a hug.

“I know, Rem. I wish I could've helped you more.”

“Dove, you've already done more than enough, I love you.”

“I love you too. But if I find out you're keeping something else I'll kill you as you sleep.”

You feel Remus grin into the crook of your neck.

[charlottes-diary-entries]

Hello love! I absolutely adore your writing, I was wondering if maybe you could do a poly!mauraders x reader where maybe the reader got injured somehow (maybe quditch?) and the mauraders are like all worried and stuff? Totally fine if you don’t want to do it, I just got injured at my competition and I’m feeling sorry for myself 😂

baby i feel your self-pity, i hate getting benched from injuries!! it's the total worst and i hope you heal quickly, but in the mean time here's something special! it turned more into an independent reader struggling with being worried over, but i hope you enjoy darling. <3

CW: injuries, but thats about it <3

The sound of the students in the stands could only be described as a frightening roar during the match. Through some drizzling rain, Gryffindors and Slytherins had poured out of their common rooms by the dozens to witness the match, which had become increasingly intense.

Foul plays from Slytherins, attempts at similar plays from Gryffindor (which James shut down immediately with a reprimanding and a few threats of what practice would become should such poor sportsmanship continue). You had dodged more ill-aimed bludgers than you could count, and as the wind picked up and the rain got heavier, it was all you could do to stay on your broom.

And at some point, even that became unmanageable.

You could have sworn you'd just blinked and suddenly the noise in your ears increased ten-fold, deafening you, and there were these horrible stars in your eyes.

Then you were on the ground, and there were lots and lots of people around you, and you couldn't really see right, and-

"Shit, shit, shit, love! Shit!"

Was that James?

"What happened? What the fuck happened? Was this one of the snakes, because I swear to fuck-"

Sirius?

They kept shouting, until someone else (a professor?) was shouting at them to quiet down. A lot of movement, fuzzy, dizzying movement, then someone was picking you up and suddenly falling asleep felt like a very, very nice idea.

"No, no, no dove, stay up for us, yeah? I don't- Maybe falling asleep isn't a good idea okay?"

Ah, so Remus was carrying you. You tried to lift a hand to your eyes, to hide from the light, or hide from Remus, or something, but you could barely feel your hand. Scratch that, your entire arm felt like it'd been pulled clean off.

Tears began to slip down your cheeks because fuck, now that you thought about it, your head really, really hurt. Your whole body was burning in pain.

"Oh, don't cry dovey, please, don't cry, Madame Pomfrey'll fix you up so quick, you won't even know..."

You lost the rest of his sentence as you began to drift away. Not that you really wanted to, it just felt much, much easier than staying awake...

All that was what had landed you here, benched at Quidditch with a pair of sunglasses on, a nasty cast around your left arm, and what your boys had deemed a permanent frown that worsened by the minute.

You had woken from the concussion very early the next morning to find an extremely frantic Sirius at the foot of your bed. He kissed you and talked while Remus and James were both still asleep, holding hands as they sat by your bed. Apparently, Sirius couldn't sleep he was so worried about you.

(The conversation didn't get much further than that as Pomfrey entered and began to shoo off the boys. Poor Remus and James only got to give you quick "I Love You's" before being firmly ushered out.)

You had been on bed rest the entire day, Pomfrey also dealing with a freak accident from a first-year potions class. Several children with boils and fevers and a need for so much attention that Pomfrey could not spend time brewing fresh Skele-Gro for you, hence, the traditionally muggle healing methods on your arm. Her potion for your concussion was helping you heal faster, but damn did it make every light blinding.

James had determined you banned from Quidditch practice until you were fully healed. While you understood his reasoning, it did not mean you had to be happy about being benched.

"Lighten up please, darling, glaring at them isn't going to make your head better."

You turned to glower at Remus instead, who sat to your right and handed you a cauldron cake. He smiled brightly and bumped your shoulder before kissing your forehead. Your frown deepened immensely.

"Maybe so, but it's certainly making me feel better knowing they know how much I hate this."

"Am I really such horrid company?" Remus said, a cheeky grin on his face. You rolled your eyes (which definitely did not hurt your head) and turned back to watch James and Sirius fly about in the air. You leaned your head on his shoulder and shut your eyes.

"No," You began, "I just wish I could be up there."

Remus's grin dropped and he placed a kiss to your temple before leaning his head against yours.

"I know dove."

You watched them continue their drills in silence and you had begun to eat your treat when Remus spoke up again.

"Though, it is nice to have you for company. I finally have someone else to ogle the boys with."

At this you snorted, looking up again to follow James and Sirius in the air.

"Yeah, they are pretty hot when they do their thing, huh?"

"Very. Very hot."

"Please, Sirius, my arm's fine now, I can carry my own bags-"

"Not if I have anything to say about it."

Sirius held your books out of your reach with a grin and you huffed, crossing your arms as you both walked to potions. None of the boys had let you carry anything the past week, which was sweet and very gentlemanly of them, but quickly beginning to bother you. Especially as Pomfrey had had you up in the Medical Wing very quickly, choking down Skele-Gro so your arm could heal. Was your arm a tad weaker than normal? Yes! Did it make you a helpless doll? Absolutely not!

"I'm completely serious-"

"No, I am!"

"Siri!" You tried to glare at him, snatching at your bag which he expertly kept to himself. "I can carry my own books, really, I'm fine."

"Hmm..." Sirius stopped cold and began to study you, inspecting you from head to toe. He stepped closer, grabbing your chin, which in turn made you gasp a little bit and lose some of your bravado. He tilted your head each way before grabbing your freshly healed arm and staring it down. You went to interrupt when he slipped your hand into his own and began pulling you along.

"Since you want to hold something so bad, you get me until we say you're alright."

You scoffed as an awful grin grew on his face.

"This is ridiculous. It's almost been a week and still."

"Still what, dove?" A new voice popped up, and James sidled up beside the two of you, taking your other hand.

Your face warmed a little bit as he leaned over to place a kiss on your cheek, but you rolled your eyes and powered on.

"Still you're all coddling me. I mean, you have to let me back on my broom someday, James. Can't keep me benched forever."

At this he frowned, growing a little more serious. "Darling, you need rest to heal. You still need those glasses outside and I'd rather play it safe with you. Don't want you mucking up a solid week of getting better just cause you couldn't wait to be back on a broom. It'd make me a bad captain to let you do that, and an even worse boyfriend."

Again, you grumbled, trying to accept their caring as simply that; caring. He placed another kiss on your cheek and swung your hands back and forth as Sirius spoke up again.

"We don't get many chances to worry over you like this darling, let us baby you just this once? Pretty please?"

He flashed you horrid puppy-eyes as James squeezed your hand again. You rolled your eyes, feeling warmth spread throughout your cheeks and neck.

"Just- let's get to potions. Please."

Both boys grinned and began chattering away as you walked. Would it be so horrible to let them treat you for a while?

Yes. Yes, it would.

Because it would seem, after nearly two weeks of resting and healing spent half in your bed and entirely in the arms of your boyfriends, they still were unwilling to let you return to practice fully.

This thought irked you horribly as you sat, hovering on your broom like a first-year, doing slow laps around the quidditch field no more than a meter off the ground. You picked up your pace a little bit, beginning to feel a bit of wind on your face as you thought of how badly you wanted to be doing more.

"Oi, quit it."

The glare you sent James's way was burning with simmering frustration. You proceeded to stick your tongue out at him and cross your arms, as childish as it felt.

He merely frowned in response, turning to watch the rest of the team drilling catching and dodging with some quaffles. Even if he wanted to place all his attention on you, it would've been entirely unfair to the rest of the team. Sirius was also distracted, i.e., finding a little too much fun in their game of dodgeball. (He'd nearly given a keeper a black eye.) Remus was not there to watch today, instead spending his time studying for an upcoming exam.

With all eyes turned away from you, and this endless itch to actually, finally do something, slipping away was a very easy thing to do.

As you began to fly around the grounds of Hogwarts, shooting up into the sky and diving back down to pick up even more speed, you could've sworn the wind wasn't just whistling in your ears. It was whispering to you that slipping away was the right thing.

You whooped and hollered and laughed as you chased your way around the towers and over the Black Lake. You dared to let your hand fall and scrape the inky dark surface of the water, and the resulting splash endlessly delighted you. Eventually, you decided to settle your little escape under a tree by the shore.

A few pants escaped you as your lungs caught up with all you had just done. After, you'd relaxed for maybe another twenty minutes and it felt like nothing could wipe the smile off your face.

"Jesus, dove, there you are."

Alright, maybe nothing.

You turned to find Sirius landing his broom and jogging over to you, and your face slowly began to drop. He dropped to his knees next to you and gave you a cursory glance, and when he was happy with the state of you, relaxed against the tree as well.

The two of you sat in silence for a minute before you managed to speak up.

"I'm not sorry or anything. By the way. And I-" You glanced over to Sirius, before staring forward and plowing on, "I've appreciated you all caring and coddling me but I'm better and I'm sick of being sidelined and babied and- and-"

You looked at Sirius again to find him smiling at you, completely in love. There was so much care in his eyes that it caused you to stumble over your words and past your point completely.

"And... yeah."

Sirius only continued to smile at you. He then sighed a little and wrapped an arm around your waist to tug you into him.

"Sorry we've been babying you, gorgeous." He paired this with a kiss pressed to your temple. "We're just nervous about making sure you're okay."

"I'm okay. Believe me, I am okay now."

"I believe you, love."

"Good."

You relaxed against him and soaked up the day together. There were birds singing in the distance and a light breeze dancing across the grass. It felt peaceful. You turned your gaze to Sirius and pressed a loving kiss to his cheek.

"I do mean it, I appreciate you all worrying about me. Even if you don't need to so much anymore."

"Not a problem dovey," He grinned, still looking out across the lake before he turned to return your kiss. "It's our job as boyfriends. And now, our job is to convince James you're well enough to do more than float an inch off the ground."

A snort escaped you as you laughed at that, sighing and hiding your face against his shoulder.

"He's gonna give me so much shit for skipping out on practice, floating or not."

"I'm sure it won't be all that bad."

Sirius now smirked down at you, unable to resist pressing yet another kiss to your cheek.

"He's completely smitten with you after all. We all are."

oh my god this is a million years late babes, i'm so sorry. between finals and dorm moveout i've been completely swamped. i'm planning on getting back into the fanfiction grind though, so you have plenty to look forward to coming up darling!! all the best!!!! <3

[bunnyshideawayy]

a rumored bastard and a proven, disinherited, legally illegitimate recognized bastard are not the same.

Rhaenyra’s sons are rumored bastards, i know the show has a lot of team green stans feeling bold but just as in the books, they are never legally considered bastards in the show either. they are speculated to be via their physical features and Laenor’s apparent sexuality, but since Laenor and the KING (btw Westeros is a absolute monarchy, meaning the king IS law) both claim all three boys as legitimate heirs, unless someone demands a medieval dna test, those kids are legally Laenor’s true sons.

this is apparently a very hard concept to understand for some, hell even Alicent in the show says something like “we can all tell” which fair point, but that is not proof enough. looks, accusations, and rumor are not the same as actual proof of adultery or bastardy.

someone i was having a “discussion” with used Joffrey as an example to point out a flaw in my logic, but ultimately proved my point. Joffrey was a rumored bastard. Ned himself had no more proof than Alicent does, just hair color and a hunch, so Joffrey was never legally disinherited from the line of succession. I hate to defend either of these men but King Robert never publicly disowned him and called him bastard, which is why Joffrey ascended to the Iron Throne. now the rumors did hurt, and caused huge political issues leading to the War of 5 Kings, which is exactly why Alicent and Team Green is so insistent that Rhaenyra’s children are illegitimate, they know they cannot legally or physically prove her children are bastards, especially when Laenor and the King are claiming them are true born, but they can spread the rumor and call into question Rhaenyra’s honesty and morality. think episode 8 when team green takes their chance with Vaemond to attempt a coup of sorts for the Driftmark Throne, why would the succession of Driftmark need to be settled if Rhaenyra’s sons are true born? why would Alicent / Otto need to make this decision in place of the sick king and mia lord of tides who both had already been stating Luke would inherit for years. it’s all apart of the scheme to tarnish Rhaenyra’s reputation as Vaemond has no other proof either, and promptly loses his head (both metaphorically and literally) by calling the recognized heir to the throne a whore and her children bastards with no proof in front of the whole court.

it is a political scheme on both sides, Alicent cannot prove anything, and Rhaenyra cannot disprove the rumors no matter how many times they are claimed as true born sons. Rhaenyra has to live in the comfort the law gives her, as legally her sons are seen as legitimate, and thus legally they are protected. and from an unbiased pov with both in universe and historical references, those kids might be bastards in actually but not legally.

Rhaenyra goes through hell to keep her children legally protected, not only for their sake but for hers because should the truth come out both her and Laenor would be seriously punished, i wouldn’t go as far as executed but that would depend on if Viserys was old and bed ridden or dead. which is why im making this incredibly long post repeating myself in every point. you can argue all day about Rhaenyra’s children and their parentage but i am making this to make it clear that her children are not *legally* bastards by Westeros law. in order for Jace, Luke, and Joffrey to be illegitimate bastards Laenor, Rhaenyra, Harwin, and/or Viserys would have to publicly acknowledge them as such and disinherit them. no, Laenor and Viserys dying do not magically make Rhaenyra’s children legal bastards either. they would, again, need to be claimed and proven as such and disinherited.

and at the end of it all, true or not true, the rumors made a lasting impact on the story. so much so this fandom is still debating this topic, and frankly i am dreading the season 2 release when all the bad takes and bad faith arguments start up again.

anyway other famous rumored bastards are in Targ history are:

Maegor

Daeron II

[poemsforchan]

DO IT LIKE THAT

pairing: bang chan x reader

summary: you live a cliché with your coworker and you just happened to have a crush on him. luckily he seems to feel the same.

requested: by anon -> Is it possible to get a coworker! Chan smut?where he and the reader have to share a bed and he’s really nervous because he likes her. He’s definitely a sub for her and asks her to choke him because it’s one of his fantasies.

warnings: NSFW, oral (male receiving), choking but nothing too serious, chan is a tiny bit submissive but not much, afab reader but no use of female pronouns

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

You are stressed.

Stress is a feeling you are used to and is very much present in your day to day life but you don’t know the last time you felt it to this intensity.

The company you worked at had asked you and another employee to go to a meeting a few cities away. Driving back would be too tiring so you were tasked with getting two hotel rooms for the night, something you had to do multiple times in the past. You assured Chris, your coworker, that everything would be taken care of. You scheduled the entirety of the trip from the second you stepped out of your apartment to the moment you got back the day after. Everything seemed fine.

It wasn't.

After a long drive - in which Chris refused to let you switch places and drive for a bit so he could rest - and a boring meeting, you finally reach the hotel; just to find out you only had booked one room. Apparently, your sleep-deprived self forgot to change the room numbers from one to two when booking on the website and you had been so busy that you didn't stop once to confirm if everything was okay before the trip. Because of some concert happening in town, there weren't available rooms and you were presented with a choice: you either suck it up and share a bed with your attractive coworker or you deal with a long car ride back, meaning you would get home by dawn. Objectively, you should choose the second option. You are not working tomorrow so you could simply sleep all day. Going home would prevent having the awkward “do you want me to sleep on the floor?” discussion and it would most definitely keep your feelings in check. You are not a high school girl that needs an excuse to get close with her crush. Absolutely not.

“Well, I don’t mind sharing for a night.” Chan says, that big, stupid, pretty smile displaying his teeth and the perfect dimples. “Unless you don't feel comfortable, which is absolutely fine. I can just drive back and send someone to pick you up tomorrow?”

Maybe you do need an excuse to be near your crush. “I couldn't do that to you. We can just share a room.”

So, together, you make your way to the room. Like a good cliché, there was only one bed in the room but it was big enough to let you sleep without needing to be pressed against Chan’s body. It bummed you out a little. Now there wasn't an excuse to feel his warmth, maybe have your legs touch while trying to fall asleep, his face so close to yours that you could feel his hot breath…

You sigh, maybe a bit too loud since it has Chris turning to look at you. “Everything ok?” he asks but you can only nod as you drop your backpack on the bed and question every life decision you made that led you to this moment. You open your backpack to get your pajamas and almost whine when you remember that you packed the ugliest pieces you got. You were just being dramatic, of course. Your pajamas were simply a pair of old shorts (it had been kind of hot the past couple of days and you didn’t want to risk getting too warm because of pants) and an even older t-shirt with a band logo that was mostly faded. ‘Normal pajamas’, you tell yourself, but you just lost the opportunity to seduce your very handsome coworker with a sexy set.

“So unprofessional, shut up.” you murmur to yourself.

“Did you say something?”

Your head snaps in his direction and you laugh a bit awkwardly. “I said I was gonna change in the bathroom.” You say, lying through your teeth, as you gather the things you need in your arms and speed walk to the bathroom. You feel like you can breathe again when you lock the bathroom door and look at yourself in the mirror. A shower is everything you need right now and you can only hope you come out of it with a clearer mind and one less crush.

You remove your clothes and take a very cold shower so your mind can focus on your shivering figure rather than your coworker’s extremely hot body. It doesn't work. You leave the tub shaking and still thinking about Chris’ arms around you. You brush your teeth thinking about his body. Unfortunately, you can’t really come up with a plan B before you’re walking out the door. Fortunately, you’re glad you didn’t waste more time thinking of a plan B because your mind goes blank as soon as your eyes focus on Chris sitting on the bed. He’s looking at his phone, still wearing his suit and obviously waiting for you to be done so he can shower. You feel like screaming at the sight of his shirt unbuttoned almost all the way, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows and his hair messy from running his fingers through it.

At the sound of your steps, Chris looks up from his phone. You notice the way his eyes travel up your legs a bit too slowly until they settle on your face. You wished there was more noise outside because you’re not sure if Chan can hear your heavy breathing or your loud thoughts. You walk to the bed, trying not to stare too much at the man sitting next to your backpack. Carefully, you put your dirty clothes inside a plastic bag before shoving it inside the backpack. Chan still hasn't moved from his place and you can feel his intense stare. Once again, you can’t help but think this is unprofessional. Ok sure - there wasn't anything forbidding a hookup with your coworker. Your contract didn't specify anything about relationships of any kind but you still viewed it as improper.

You look again at Chris and his eyes are now on yours. You watch as his tongue licks his lips and think you don't mind being improper when the object of your dirty thoughts looks this good.

You move until you’re standing in front of him. Chris looks up at you with hooded eyes and shiny lips and something tells you he wants this as much as you.

“See something you like?” you say to the man, his legs spreading to accommodate you in between them.

“Definitely.” He replies, his ears already getting a bit red. You take off your shirt, basking in the attention Chan is giving you and your naked breasts. You slowly fall to your knees, looking up at the man through your eyelashes. This was most definitely a bad idea but how were you going to stop when Chris is looking down at you with those eyes? “I’ve been imagining you like this for so long.” He breathes out, his voice trembling a bit.

“Oh?” You finish unbuttoning his shirt. “You’ve been thinking about me on my knees? You’re sounding like a perv Channie.” You tease.

“N-no, I didn't mean it like that.” He stutters. With his help, you pull his pants and boxers down to his knees so you eye the dick standing tall and proud against his stomach. “I just… think about you.”

“Yeah? I think about you a lot too.” You admit, laying your head on his thigh as you look at him. “You always walk around the office with those tight shirts and pretty smiles. Makes me so weak.” You confess, holding the base of his cock with your hand. Chan hisses at the contact and his hand goes to your head, automatically pushing you closer.

You slightly part your lips to give an open-mouth kiss on the red-ish tip. You look up at Chris when your mouth fits his cock inside and he curses before throwing his head back to look at the ceiling. Moving your head up and down, you watch as the man above you crumbles under your touch. He curses and squeezes between his fingers the fabric underneath him. Your free hand sneaks past your shorts to touch yourself. Chris pushes your head down further when you whine around his dick as you insert a finger inside you. You gag around him and your coworker seems to like it by the way his hips start moving to fuck your face. Tears fill your waterline but Chris isn't even looking at you to see the damage, too focused on the sensations your mouth gives him.

His dick twitches inside your mouth and he immediately stops. Chan looks at you, breathing heavily as if he just ran a marathon. His lips are red, probably from biting it to keep his moans to himself. He looks good - too good for your own good, to be honest. You remove your hand from your shorts and his hand leaves your hair to settle on your cheek, a silent request for you to get up. Your knees hurt but you don't mind it. Chris moves to sit up against the headboard and you take off your remaining clothes before sitting on his thighs. His hands find a place on your waist, his thumbs rubbing circles on your skin as he now looks up at you with those intense eyes.

“Can I kiss you?” He whispers. You simply nod, leaning down to meet him halfway. His lips are soft and he tastes just like the mint he offered you after dinner. His kisses are slow and so sweet - you might actually fall in love.

“Do you have a condom?” You murmur against his lips.

“My wallet.” He replies. You get up to search for his wallet and, after following his instructions, you grab the condom. Chris had laid further down, his head now placed on the soft pillows. You go back to sitting on his thighs, opening the package before rolling the condom down his length.

“Are you sure?” You question. Chan nods as he says a small ‘yes’ and it’s enough for you to lead his tip to your entrance before sinking down on it slowly. “I need a minute…”

Chris is understanding. He stays still even if his dick is twitching like crazy inside you. He doesn't move even if you’re squeezing him like crazy. He waits for your signal before he’s moving his hips to meet yours. You place your hands on his chest for support and Chris is so focused on the way you move that he thinks that was the moment he fell in love with you. You bounce on his lap, head thrown back while you moan so sweetly, caring only about your pleasure. Seeing you like that is enough for Chris though. You look down at him, hands squeezing the flesh of his chest and arms as your moans grow a bit louder, needier. “I th-ink I’m gonna cum.” Chan manages to say.

You stop your movements immediately. “You can’t cum until I do.” Maybe it’s the authoritative voice you used (the same one you use when you’re ordering around people at the company that always has his pants tightening) or the hand that slips to his throat and squeezes just a tiny bit to make your point. Chan doesn't know, perhaps it was a mix of both. What he does know is that it has him spilling inside the condom with a strangled moan and a gasp. “You have got to be kidding me.

“I’m so sorry! I don’t know why that happened!” Chan starts rambling, saying everything that comes to mind without even thinking. You roll your eyes, get up and pull out his condom to throw away. You thank a higher entity that he had another one in his wallet or it would be a shame that your night ended like this. “I mean I’ve been thinking about- Well not with you obviously! Ok maybe with you, god I’m such a pervert and…”

“It’s not a big deal.” You interrupt his rambling. “It’s hot really.” You murmur under your breath. “Do you want me to choke you Channie?”

Chan looks like he’s about to cry, the tips of his ears a vivid red. “Yeah? Only if you’re ok with it.”

You go back to bed and repeat the same process you did a few minutes ago, except you’re now holding a softer cock. Chris’ eyes widen and he’s about to ask for a little break but then you're sinking down on him again and his dick seems to come back to life. Your hand now finds a place on his neck, fingers squeezing the sides just enough that he feels it but not enough that he struggles breathing. Chan likes the pressure there, mixed with you bouncing on his lap and moaning his name so desperately. You like the image of Chan under you, mouth parted while he whines at the stimulation and pleas to go faster. You apply a bit more pressure and Chris’ eyes roll to the back of his head as he tries to say something. The words don't come out but you still understand the warning. You keep the pressure, watching Chan suck in a breath before he’s spilling inside the condom once again. You don’t stop, set on reaching your orgasm as well. You let go of his neck to touch your clit, moving your fingers in circles while you get closer with each thrust. Chris squeezes your waist, helps you lift yourself up a few more times until you reach your high again.

You let yourself fall to his side, laying next to him on your back while breathing heavily. “Are you ok?” You hear Chris ask.

“More than ok.” You turn your head to look at him. “I’m so glad I fucked up the booking.”

“I’m glad you did too.” He sits down on the bed, stretching his arms above his head. “Let's go, we can shower together this time.”

With weak legs and a big smile, you let yourself get dragged by Chris to the bathroom. Today, you will enjoy whatever this is. Tomorrow, you will figure it out.

[theemporium]

What about Max maxplaining Trouble? Like not to Trouble, but about Trouble to someone. He’s just gushing about her or maybe he’s telling someone that no they can’t do “x” b/c that’s not the way Trouble prefers it done. And everyone is just so confused about why Max knows something so random about Trouble.

kinda made this into a wee sick fic but enjoy! and thank you for requesting!🫶🏽

.

“Max, I’m fine.” 

“No, you’re not.”

“This is ridiculous.”

“Sorry for taking your health seriously. Now, give Danny the phone.”

If someone told you that Max Verstappen was an overbearing mother hen before you met him, you would have laughed in their face. You had heard many things about him, and that certainly wasn’t one you would have believed. Even in the early stages of your friendship, you would have never really pegged him as the type. He was caring, yes. 

But this? This was a whole new level.

You were sick. Nothing crazy or insane, just a simple flu that left you feeling a bit under the weather and longing for your bed. But apparently to Max, it was equivalent to you being on your deathbed. 

Unfortunately for him, he had to fly out to England for a few meetings at the factory that required his presence. He tried arguing Christian over the phone about it, but ultimately lost that battle and was forced to take his private jet out.

You made the mistake in thinking that you would be able to get a few days of quiet rest to recover. Because only mother hen Max Verstappen would send someone to do exactly what he would do if he was able to stay by your side.

“Did you get her a blanket?”

Daniel tried to suppress his laughter and remain serious as he held your phone in his hand, watching Max on the screen scrutinising every little detail about your setup in your bed.

“Yes, I—”

“You got the wrong blanket,” Max stated bluntly.

You sighed. “Max, it’s fine—”

“Stop saying that, schatz, when it’s not,” Max retorted before his focus returned to the Aussie. “She likes the cream one in the hallway cupboard. Should be on the third shelf.”

Daniel nodded. “Right, got it.” 

“Did you get her medicine?”

“Oh yeah,” Daniel said with a dismissive wave of his hand. “I got her some cough syrup from the pharmacy down the—”

“Which flavour?”

“Cherry,” Daniel said.

Max scoffed. “Mate, she hates cherry. You need to get the orange flavoured one.”

“Max,” you groaned as you nuzzled yourself further into the endless amount of pillows your boyfriend had made Daniel surround you in. “Cherry is fine. I just have to take a spoonful once a day, or whatever it is.”

“Three times a day,” Max said, his brows furrowed together. “And you hate artificial cherry flavouring. You said it makes you want to throw up.”

Your cheeks flushed in embarrassment. 

“I’ll get her the orange flavoured one,” Daniel said with a laugh, finding it adorable how caring Max was. “Anything else, helicopter boyfriend?”

“I don’t know what that means,” Max grumbled. “But yes. I have left menus on the kitchen counter, I’ll send you what she likes and what she wants to get but always refuses until it’s in front of her. Also, there should be a list of movies I sent you that are her comfort movies that you can—”

“This is creepy, Verstappen, it’s like you’re my stalker or something,” you muttered, even if your heart was swooning at the small details he remembered about you.

“Lil’ Maxie just loves his Trouble,” Daniel grinned wildly. “He doesn’t shut up about you. He could probably go on for hours if we let him.”

“More like days,” Max corrected before he continued to explain everything you would need to his friend, whilst you laid there with a fond smile on your face.

.

[littleseasiren]

Tell me often

Summary: You’re afraid to tell Bucky you love him too often, but he needs to hear it more.

Pairing: Bucky x reader

Warnings: Fluff

Words: ~ 1000

You startle when you hear the door softly open and close but smile when you don't hear any footsteps. Bucky must be home.

"Bucky? I'm in the bedroom."

"Don't move, babydoll." He groans as he enters the bedroom. 

When he sees you reading a book on the bed, his eyes soften as he smiles at you. He walks to the edge of the bed before sinking onto his knees and almost collapsing on top of you, only his strong arms holding him up so he doesn't squash you. 

You can't help laughing as he sets his head on your stomach, his hair tickling the skin not covered by your camisole. His arms wrap around your waist, squeezing you softly as he groans against you.

"You ok, babe?" Your voice is laced with concern as he huffs against your chest. 

"Yeah, it was just a long day. The meeting started ok, then..." He becomes quiet once again, clenching his jaw against your stomach.

"You want to tell me about it? It's ok if you don't want to." 

He takes a deep breath and gives you another short squeeze. "One of the agents came to the meeting and started saying the mission failure was my fault, that having me there was a bad idea and that they should remove me from active missions."

"What! Are they crazy?" Your voice increases in pitch with your irritation. "You weren't even in charge of the team! How the hell do they think it was your fault?" You wrap your hands in Bucky's hair, playing with it to give you something to do.

"Apparently, having the Winter Soldier there is distracting, not knowing which side I'm on." Bucky's tone makes you worry even more: it's flat and emotionless. Does he believe this idiot? When he feels you draw in a deep breath he talks before you can.

"Don't worry, babydoll. Steve already ripped him a new one. And surprisingly, Tony jumped in too. He told the agent that I'm not the Winter Soldier anymore, and that everyone knows I'm on their side. When he wouldn't back down, they fired him and blacklisted him from ever going on active missions again. It just - it just brought back some bad memories, you know? I just need to snuggle with you a bit more then I'll be fine."

You move his hair to the side, then trace your finger down his temple, over his nose, circling his full lips before moving back to his temple again. Concentrating on your faint touch helps calm his anxiety. "What can I do to make it better?"

He stills for a moment then you feel his breath against your stomach. "Can you - can you..." he starts but doesn't finish. You give him time, knowing he sometimes struggles to vocalise his needs. He growls against your stomach before he clears his throat. "Can you tell me how you feel about me? That you like me?" That you... like him? What was he talking about, this man of yours?

"Bucky, I need you to look at me." You wiggle until he reluctantly lifts his head and sits opposite you on the large bed, close enough to touch. "You want me to tell you how much I like you?" 

Bucky's cheeks are tinged pink as he nods silently at you. "Bucky, you idiot. I love you! I love you so much, babe!"

Bucky closes his eyes as goosebumps appear on his skin, a smile growing on his face. When he opens his eyes again, you see they are filled with excitement and happiness. He breathes in deeply as if savouring the moment.

"You know that, right? That I love you?" You can't help but ask.

He glances up at you, the look in his eyes making you pause mid-breath. A flash of uncertainty appears before he looks down and plays with the bed cover.

"Bucky, babe, I love you so much. There is nothing in this world that will stop me from loving you. I'd tell you all the time if I could."

He's quiet for a moment before his beautiful blue eyes meet yours. "Why don't you? I mean, why can't you?"

You clench your hands together as you think about how best to answer him. "Um, well, I grew up in a very loving family, you know? We were close and we were never afraid to remind each other how much we cared. But I sometimes forget that not everyone is like that. My previous partner got angry when I said it too often. And I didn't love him nearly as much as I love you. I don't want you to ever feel like I'm just saying it without meaning it." You glance up at him, "Does that make sense?"

"It does, babydoll. But every time you tell me you love me, you mean it, right?"

You gasp at his stupid question. "Of course!"

"Then it will never be too much for me. I'm not like that moron who broke your heart. Maybe...um, can you tell me more often?" He grasps your hand as he pulls you into his lap, his large arms wrapping around you. "Every time you say it, I'll know you mean it, I promise."

You squeal as you wrap your arms around his neck; he wants you to tell him how you feel more often! "Of course, babe. How much more, just a little bit or lots?" You don't want to overdo it.

"Lots more, so I don't forget. Tell me every day at least, if that's not too much?"

"It's not! I Love you so much, Bucky Barnes! I love you so much that it feels like my heart is going to burst out of my chest! I love you more than a canary loves to sing, more than the sun loves the moon!" 

The smile that lights up his face is contagious as he lays you down on the bed and starts kissing your neck, pulling you as close as humanly possible. "I love you too, babydoll. I love you so much!"

If Bucky is ok with you telling him how you feel, if he knows how much you really mean it, then you might just have to tell him every chance you get.

Even if it's every minute of the day, just so he never forgets. 

Tag List:

@morganmofresh @dottirose @cjand10 @Krm22332 @buggy14 @crazyunsexycool @tripleoyaa

@mandijo17 @fluffysucker @shelbygeek @moviegurl2002​

[vamphrrr]

Hi!! i loved your tough love fanfic of clarisse! so i decided to ask if you can make a clarisse la rue , (aphrodite child) reader, but she’s not some normal teenager… she’s a princess if you get what im saying??? lets say that aphrodite dated a princess and had a child with him before she left, and so that’s where reader grew up, no one knew that the reader was a princess u til she told clarisse, she was really worried clarisse was gonna hate her but clarisse is like “Woah me mad at you? no way” and clarisse supports her! (Including some kissing, flirting, it would be super nice if the reader was shorter the clarisse probably up to her chest like in the tough love fanfic!)

notes ; omgggg this is so cute!! i’m so glad u liked my last fic i was nervous about posting 😭. also i’ll be making clarisse call reader princess too now knowing SHE IS ONE! they’re already dating in this. i used the same banner bc i’m too lazy to create new ones based on plot LMAO. i wrote this so soon but sometimes if anyone requests it might take me a couple of days bc of school and stuff! think i went a little overboard with this one. i should probably start counting how much i write lol.

%% are you mad?

in which your super attractive girlfriend finds out the secret you’ve been hiding from her for so long. also, she accidentally meets your dad.

— clarisse la rue x f!aphrodite!reader

warnings ; reader has doubts, tall & buff clarisse / short reader (again), flirty!clarisse flirty!clarisse, a little angst?, kissing, two swear words, flustered reader (oh how the turned tables), ooc clarisse? (i’m never sure if i write her right), one suggestive thought in the first paragraph (nothing happened tho!). a little too much background i think… too much father, did my daddy issues come out? made reader’s dad a king bc plot reasons, maybe more emotional than requested srry😭

You couldn’t believe you were doing this. Sneaking off from your girlfriend’s warm bed in the middle of the night. For a minute, you wondered how’d that look to anyone watching. A girl hastily running from a cabin that she very obviously did not belong in, a long shirt —it was Clarisse’s— accompanied by small shorts, (which were not visible might you add). Oh and how could you forget, you were barefoot. Who’s bright idea was that? Oh, yeah, yours. Why?

Gods were you cold. Should’ve brought a jacket, you thought.

The bottom of your feet hurt, stepping on rocks and sticks and who knows what else would do that to you. Next time, you would definitely bring hiking boots or something. And a jacket. In the forest, you were far away from anybody that might disturb you. Pulling Clarisse’s shirt up until your shorts were visible, you dug your hand inside the pocket, meeting with a drachma. You approached the round well, splashing water mist being met with sunlight from below, creating a rainbow.

How? It was the middle of the night. Why was the sun inside? You decided not to think about it.

This well was old, dirty from not being used much. See, not many people knew about it. Apparently, it was for those that needed to talk to somebody reallyyyy privately, that’s why it was hidden in the forest, only appearing at night. You weren’t sure how that worked, but you stumbled upon it a couple of years back when you were being chased by wood nymphs for being out at night. They found you, obviously. Punishment was not escapable and you ended up having to clean the stables the day after you got your nails done. Yuck.

Now here you were again, this being the only place where you could speak to your father without anyone finding you. It’s not that you were embarrassed of him per say, it was that you really didn’t want anyone to know that you were a royal. I mean, how ironic was that? A daughter of Aphrodite, a Princess? Forget it. You’d get made fun of for the rest of your life. You especially didn’t want Clarisse to know. She was your girlfriend yes, and this was something very important that you needed to tell her about, but you weren’t sure how’d she react. You knew she wouldn’t make fun of you like others would, but you didn’t know if dating a literal Princess was too much of a deal breaker for her.

Being with a royal was too stressful, there was so much that they’d get criticized for and so little people that they’d be accepted by. Your dad was a King with many past lovers, Aphrodite included. The people loved her, I mean, who wouldn’t? But then she was gone, disappearing the same night she gave birth to you. Your dad knew of her, of this. He knew she’d be gone by the time the sun rose. Yet, he did nothing. Who was he, than just a mortal man? He could not stop a goddess from leaving.

He got with others after that, your dad had a lot of love to give. Maybe that was something that attracted your mother to him. Public lovers were not taken well, the people respected the King, sure, they just didn’t respect his partners. Constant judging, constant eyes following their every move, constant hatred being thrown, constant stress on their shoulders. In the end, they could never take it. Running away or completely disappearing seemed to be something they all had in common. Your father had to give up on love, small secret romances blossomed for a while, but never enough for it to go public.

That is why you were so scared to tell Clarisse of your status. She was smart, she’d realize being with you would not be worth the hassle. She’d leave you just like everyone else left your father. Clarisse was the love of your life, you don’t think you’d be able to handle it if she left.

You threw the drachma in, calling for the rainbow goddess to let you see your father.

“Dad,” you said, once the back of his head was visible.

He jumped, turning around. “Oh! My dearest daughter, you scared me.” He laughed a bit, looking at you with such soft eyes it almost made you cry. “Why are you Iris messaging me at this hour? Isn’t it time for you to be resting?”

You swallowed, a sudden knot appearing in your throat. “I just needed someone to talk to.” Playing with the ring around your finger that Clarisse gave you for your one year anniversary, you choked out. “I have this amazing girlfriend, she’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me here at camp and—” You stopped talking, taking a small breath, not noticing the familiar figure of Clarisse standing a couple of feet behind you. “—and I’m scared to tell her that I’m not who she thinks I am. That I’m not this girl that just so happens to be a daughter of Aphrodite. I love her so much and I want to tell her about you. I want to bring her to you in person because I want the two people I love the most to meet. But how do I do that when I haven’t even told her I’m a Princess and that the only way you two could meet is if I took her to our royal palace?”

Your father widened his eyes, not expecting his little girl to burst out her feelings just like that. He sighed, glancing behind your shoulder. “If this girl you love so much really loves you like you do her, she wouldn’t care about your status.” Staring at who he assumed was your girlfriend behind you, he continued. “She wouldn’t care that you hid this from her. Instead, she’d try to see it from your point of view.” Moving his eyes away from Clarisse, he looked at you, eyes squinting in light mischief. “You should tell her, she’ll understand. I love you.” Is all he said, before he was gone.

You’re left staring at a rainbow, your dad nowhere in sight. Suddenly, a branch broke from behind you. Turning around quickly, heart beating rapidly, you’re met with the eyes of your girlfriend. You immediately let out a gasp, not knowing she was there.

Clarisse speaks up. “You’re a Princess?”

You felt your mouth dry up. With wide eyes, you respond. “Please don’t hate me! I didn’t know how to tell you!” Walking closer to her, you reached your hands out, grabbing one of her own with both of yours. “Please, you have to understand. I didn’t want this to ruin us.”

She stayed silent.

Silence was haunting, especially coming from Clarisse, someone who was always provoking people and boasting loudly everywhere. You gulped, with lips shaking you asked, “A-are you mad?”

She lets out a huff. Was something funny? Was she annoyed? Angry? Did she not care at all? Those were the questions running through your mind. You’d find out the answers soon enough.

“Woah,” she shook her head, letting you see the slight amused smile on her face. “Me? Mad at you? No fucking way.” She reached her free hand towards your face, moving away the strand of hair that fell slightly over your eye. “It just… surprised me s’ all.”

You let out a breath, relaxing and putting your head against her chest. “Thank the gods, I thought you were going to break up with me or something.”

Reaching out again, she placed her forefinger below your chin, raising your head to meet her eyes. “How could I ever break up with someone so beautiful?” She leaned down, your lips grazing against each other’s. “Why would I leave when I can now be your knight in shining armor?” Closing the distance, your eyes fluttered shut. Butterflies were in your stomach just like the first time you two ever kissed. Without your lips separating, she put one arm around your waist, the other grabbing below your thighs, hoisting you up.

“Ah!” you screamed, separating your lips, not expecting it.

Clarisse smirked, seeing you get flustered. “You don’t have any shoes on.” You pouted, putting your arms around her neck so you wouldn’t fall while she walked back (not that she would let you fall off in the first place). “Didn’t think I’d notice, did you, princess?” Teasingly, she used the pet name, now knowing how much truth was behind it.

You whined, pressing your face against her neck. “You’re so unfair. I’m supposed to be the one flustering you.”

“Awe, the princess is mad,” she cooed, letting her lips touch the tip of your ear. “You want me to get on one knee and apologize?”

Clarisse laughed when you let out a loud groan, hitting her lightly on the chest. Smiling, she knew the only way she’d ever leave you was if she was six feet under. And even then, she’d find a way to get back to the land of the living just to be by your side.

The only things heard in the dead of night were the grasshoppers, chirping their little melodies into the darkness. That was until you muttered sleepily, letting out a yawn. “I love you.”

Clarisse repeated after you. “I love you.” Feeling your eyes fluttered close, she followed it with an almost silent “goodnight.”

Now that you were asleep, she felt panic slowly rise, steps quickening to reach the Ares cabin faster. She could only think about two things now.

Holy shit, she’s a Princess. Oh my gods, I met her dad.

[its-time-to-write]

how about a Jamie x reader fic when they go away to Amsterdam they sit together on bus and they wake up cuddling and then there’s an issue w hotel booking and there’s a one bed trope and they end up waking up cuddled together and then they admit feelings and reader goes to game with a tartt jersey on <3

I’ve been thinking about this forever, and I’m terribly sorry it took so long!! I do enjoy being an adult, but I’m at a point in life where I don’t have much free time and if I do, I use it to sleep😂

I really miss the days when Ted Lasso was still airing and the x reader tags had new content every day. I feel like that one meme of Thanos when he’s like “Fine. I’ll do it myself.” Shoutout to all y’all who are still here and reading my stuff! Love you!!

smile at me

It’s straight-up fucked. It really, really is. But also maybe it’s good, as Keeley pointed out, because not having a boyfriend anymore means you can focus on yourself?

Or something. 

Of course he had to break up with you right before leaving for Amsterdam. Hell, he broke up with you because you were leaving for Amsterdam. 

“I don’t want you going to another country with a bunch of other guys,” he had said. “It’s them or me.”

“It’s literally my job,” you told him. 

Apparently, that didn’t matter. 

But what-fucking-ever, you’re at Keeley’s waiting for a car to take you to the airport, and she’s promised to make sure you don’t think about your stupid ex even once. 

It’s times like these you wish Ted were still here with a spot-on pun and some dad-type advice. All you ever get from Beard is a weird anecdote and a vaguely threatening look. 

Keeley chatters on for the entirety of the ride to the airport, through customs, and all the way to the lounge. 

“You’re gonna get loads of great content for the socials, babe. Candids, action shots, behind-the-scenes. Friendlies are fucking amazing!”

Last time Richmond were in Amsterdam, they had lost horribly. They’re hoping to make up for it this time around. 

The plane is full of Greyhounds, both footballers and coaches alike, with Rebecca at the very front. Keeley plops done in the seat next to her as Dani waves at you from the middle. 

“I saved you a seat!” he calls. You smile as Sam takes your bag to put it in the overhead. “Thanks, Dani. You excited?”

Dani grins. “I think this time I am ready to see a whole field of tulips!”

You laugh as the lads roll their eyes. Jamie leans across the aisle toward you and says, “Oi, what’s the twat doing while you’re away?” 

You press your lips into a thin line. “Not a clue.”

He raises an eyebrow and says, “You break up with him?”

“He broke up with me.”

Jamie twists his face into a scoff. “And you wonder why I call him the fucking twat. Prick. Bet it was so he could finally fuck his coworker.”

You shrug. Jamie’s never liked your boyfriend. It’s not like you were together long, only a few months. And sure, he was a little bit of a twat, but sue you. You had a special place in your heart for pricks with a heart of gold, only he didn’t even have a heart at all. 

“You should date someone better,” Jamie continues. 

You glare at him and retort, “Oh yeah, because it’s just that easy. You got some one in mind?”

Jamie gives you his most angelic look and says, “What about me?” which makes half the plane dissolve into laughter, yourself included. 

“Cheers, Jamie,” you say as you wipe your eyes. “I needed that.”

A strange look crosses his face, but it’s quickly replaced by his usual cocky expression. “Anytime, love,” he replies as you turn to start a conversation with Dani. 

As much as you’d like that, Jamie would never date you. His joke stings a little but you brush it off. Maybe you’ll find another twat in Amsterdam to distract yourself from the fact that you’re half in love with Jamie Tartt.

—

“I’m sorry, we don’t have a booking under you name,” the hotel concierge says.

You tap your nails to your wrist. “Are you positive? I’m with AFC Richmond, they should’ve had one.”

The concierge taps on his computer for a moment before shaking his head. “No, I’m afraid we don’t have anything. And all of our rooms are booked this weekend. Might I recommend the hotel down the road?”

Damn it. There’s no way this is happening. Everyone else has gotten to their rooms without a hitch and here you are, alone in the lobby as you pull out your phone to call Keeley. There’s no way this is fucking happening. 

“Everything alright?” asks a voice behind you, and you jump. 

“They don’t have a room for me, and they’re fully booked,” you explain. 

Jamie looks at the concierge, who shrugs apologetically, then back to you. He asks, “Why don’t you share with me?” and you frown. 

“I thought you were rooming with Declan,” you say. 

Jamie lifts a shoulder. “Yeah, but he switched with Richard because O’Brien fucking snores and he don’t give a shit.”

You say, “So you’re with Richard, then,” and he shakes his head. 

“Nah, Richard’s with Jan.”

“I thought Dani was with Jan,” you say. These fucking footballers. What’s the point in having set rooms if they’re just going to switch it all up.

“Dani is with Jan,” Jamie says patiently, as if this all the most obvious thing in the world. “But Dani’s a cuddler, so he’s probably going to fucking end up with, I don’t know, Isaac or someone. Which means I get a room all to meself.”

“Right,” you say slowly. “Alright, I can do that. As long as you don’t mind.”

Jamie winks. “Sharing a room with a pretty girl for four days? Ain’t a problem, love.”

You laugh and follow him to the elevator.

—

It feels a bit like playing with fire, agreeing to room with Jamie. Especially since you’re freshly single and definitely open to a rebound. But there will be two beds and a lot of space and anyway, you’ll be busy with the match and social media, respectively. 

Except as soon as you walk through the door, you realize there’s a tiny little hitch.

“There’s one bed,” you blurt out, so surprised you’re unable to filter your words. Jamie blushes a little bit as he says, “Yeah, um, Cockburn and I hate sleeping alone, so we asked for one. He grew up sharing a bed with his brothers and I just fucking hate being alone. I can sleep on the couch if you want.”

“No,” you say firmly, “you need good rest. It’s not a problem.”

It’s not a problem. 

Or at least it wouldn’t have been if Isaac had been a shittier captain. 

But as it is he’s great, so he’s got the whole team going out to dinner at a pre-determined location complete with a dress code of no t-shirts and apparently you count as part of the team, so you have to go too. You’re in your massive bathroom trying to curl your disgusting travel hair when Jamie walks in wearing one of those white hotel bathrobes.

He asks, “You mind if I’m in here?” so you shake your head, struck temporarily mute by his bare clavicle. Fucking hell, you feel like a repressed Victorian woman. 

Jamie says, “Mint,” and goes about his alarmingly detailed skincare routine. You’re pretty sure you’re done with your hair so you crane your neck in an attempt to check the back. 

“Missed a spot,” Jamie says. “Want me to get it for you?”

You shoot him a dubious look but hand him the curler. He runs a hand through your hair, picking up the offending strand and it’s all you can do not to shiver. 

“Mum taught me,” he explains and you nod ever so slightly, not wanting him to accidentally burn your neck. Jamie says, “All good,” and runs his whole hand through your hair this time, making the curls bounce. 

You choke out, “Thanks,” and hurriedly put away your things, desperate to leave before Jamie can pick up on the fact that you can barely handle being in the same room as him, and that you have great concerns about what the night will bring. 

—

“You look fucking hot,” is the first thing Rebecca says when you meet her in the lobby. Keeley looks mildly offended that Rebecca took the words out of her mouth, but she just laughs and taps your arm. 

“Gonna break a few hearts tonight, yeah?” she grins.

You’re not sure about that, especially since dinner turns out to be a very domestic affair. It’s loud, sure, but it’s definitely toned down since it’s a pre-match celebration instead of a post-match one. You’re with Sam, Keeley, and Roy with Jamie far, far away. You push all thoughts of him from your brain only for memories of your ex to surface. You frown. 

“The fuck’s wrong with you?” Roy says and for a moment, you think he’s talking to you. But he’s actually talking to Jamie who has moved from his place across the restaurant to right behind your chair. 

“Fuck off grandad,” Jamie says good-naturedly. “Wanted to tell this one that some of the lads are going out dancing after this. Not too late,” he hastily adds at Roy’s burning scowl, “just for two hours and we’re only allowed one drink.”

You’re pretty sure that’s a bit more liberal than Roy likes, but he nods his head slightly so he must be in a good mood.

“So, you coming?” Jamie asks and before you can reply Sam and Keeley chorus, “Yes she is.”

You give Keeley a Look before turning back to Jamie. “Guess I am,” you reply.

The smile Jamie gives you does more to make your head spin than any amount of alcohol you’ve had in your lifetime.

—

Jamie has taken it upon himself to wipe that frown off your face. He might have been watching you over dinner and that might have been why he chose that exact moment to invite you out, but he’ll never fucking admit it to anyone except Sam. And Keeley. And maybe Cockburn when it was the off-season and they were a little tipsy. (But not drunk, never drunk.) 

So yeah, sue him if he’s spinning you around on the crowded dance floor just because it makes you laugh. It’s not his fault that he’s been wildly in love with you since the day Higgins hired you. It’s not his fault that you’re easy to be around and have the most beautiful smile he’s seen in his life. 

And fuck, it certainly isn’t his fault you can’t see in yourself what others do. Why you settled for a piece of shit like your ex, he’ll never know. But he’ll be damned if he doesn’t do his best to show you how special you are. He knows you’ll never feel the same about him, but maybe he can help you level up your standards. Maybe if you’re with someone good, it’ll hurt less that it’s not him. 

So he lets you hold his hand for the entirety of the two hours that the team is out and doesn’t say a word when you don’t let go in the cab back to the hotel. 

You’ve gotten that closed-off look in your eyes again, the one that means you’re thinking about your ex, so Jamie knocks his shoulder into yours and asks why he can’t have the password to the team’s Instagram account, which is a sure fire way to get you to lecture him on irresponsibility and aesthetics and the best way to get your eyes to come back to life.

—

Honestly, it’s easier to fall asleep than you might have expected. It’s a big bed and you’re fucking tired. 

You just didn’t expect to wake up in the middle of the night crying, but it’s always fucking like this when you go through a breakup. You go to sleep fine and wake up sad, so you do your best not to wake up Jamie except you’ve both ended up entangled in each other’s arms, so he can feel you shaking. 

“Hey,” Jamie says in a soft voice, “You’re okay, love.”

You half expect him to push you away once he realizes you’re so close, but he only pulls you closer and presses a kiss to your forehead. Maybe it’s because you’re both half-asleep, but it feels like the most natural thing in the world. 

You sigh and settle into him, drifting off in a matter of moments. 

—

You wake up to a pair of blue eyes watching you. 

“How you feeling?” Jamie asks, voice gravelly with sleep. 

You just blink at him. It’s hard to form coherent sentences within the first ten seconds of waking up, and even harder with the memory of Jamie’s arms around you last night. 

Wait. Not just the memory. The present reality because neither of you have moved. 

Jamie misinterprets your silence and begins to extricate his arms.

“Sorry,” he says, “I’m not to trying to like, cross and fucking boundary or something. Should’ve left you alone.”

You’re still not awake enough to talk so you grab him to stop him from moving away. He gives you a questioning look so you say, “I wouldn’t have agreed to share a bed if I thought you were a creep.”

Jamie grins. “So like, if Jan had offered to share a room you’d’ve said no.”

You wrinkle your nose as you say, “Jan’s not a creep.”

“He’s the fucking worst,” Jamie grumbles, “And anyway, can we not talk about Jan fucking Maas this early in the morning?”

“Sure,” you say, “let’s talk about something else.”

Despite your comment, you both lapse into silence. You’re enraptured by Jamie’s blue eyes. You’ve never been able to study them this close before, and you want to take this opportunity to memorize every fleck of green. 

Jamie seems to have a similar thought, except his gaze flicks to your lips. 

“I have morning breath,” you tell him and he says, “Real men don’t give a shit, babe,” before leaning forward.

It’s softer than you’d expected, sweeter. 

It’s also strange to think that you’re making out with Jamie in bed, and that he’s the one who initiated it.

The thought is so absurd that you giggle, mid-kiss. Jamie breaks away and says, “Oi, there’s no way that was a shit kiss.”

“No,” you say between giggles, “it’s just weird that we’re doing this. Like, how are we supposed to look each other in the eye after?”

Jamie moves so he can look at you better, and you roll from your side to your back. “What do you mean?” he asks.

“Oh come on, we share a room and a bed, we kiss because I have all these sad feelings and you’re feeling a lot of emotions about the match, and then we have to work together after. It’s silly.”

Jamie cocks his head. “That’s what you think is happening?”

“Yes?” you say. None of this is going how it’s supposed to. “What do you think is happening?”

“I like you,” he says, and there is absolutely no mistaking his meaning. 

“Oh,” you reply in a small voice. “Since when?”

“Since before you started dating the twat. When Higgins introduced ya to the team.”

“That’s a fucking long time ago!” you exclaim. “Were you ever going to tell me?”

Jamie rubs his face. “Yeah, ‘cept you showed up to work tellin’ everyone how you started dating the twat. And I ain’t a home wrecker.”

You groan. “Fuuuck. I literally only dated him to try to get over you.”

Jamie shoots up. “What?!”

“Yeah,” you say, “I’ve been like a little bit in love with you ever since you winked at me during that first promo I did.”

Jamie blows out a breath. “Okay. Think that’s enough talking. C’mere. We’re making out proper, like, then we’re going to breakfast.”

You grin as you climb onto his lap. 

[justwonder113]

Sleepy Minho has me!! Can you write a drabble about him coming home from like dance practice or something and he's just super tired and wants to cuddle with his s/o??

Your writes are Hella cute, love you! ❤️

Oh my God I'm so glad you like my writing, it means a lot to me!!! Also, thanks for requesting, words can not describe how much I loved writing this, sleepy Lee Know has me in different kind of chokehold❤️❤️❤️❤️

Also I'm really sorry it took me eons to write this. I really hope you'll like it❤️❤️

My Masterlist

WARNINGS⚠️ : Gender neutral reader, Some cursing. I don't know whar else to put here. If I missed something please tell me.

You were jolted awake from your sweet sluber by a most adorable but also really heavy furball jumping on your stomach. Soonie looked at you with curious eyes, unphased as if he didn't just crush your insides. The fluffball sure as hell knew you didn't have a bone in you to get mad at him. "What is it baby? Are you hungty or do you want to play?" Soonie meowed at you. Trying not to startle the cat you carefully straightened up. How long were you asleep? Your whole body felt sore. You searched for your phone and once you saw the time your eyes almost popped out. Where the hell was Minho? You jumped up from the sofa, not realy paying mind to Soonies disspleased whine. You quickly dialed your boyfriend's number and waited for him to answer, but he didn't so you tried again for a few times but to no avail. You knew he was extremely busy these days and that his schedule was hogged but he was supposed to be home a while ago! Also, the fact that he didn't say or text you anything made you worry even more. God why did you have to fall asleep? All you remembered was that after finishing up witch chores you sat down to take a breather. How did you even manage to fall asleep just like that? What if something had happened? Why wasn't he picking up? Should you call Chan? Maybe he knows something? You were starting to borderline panick when you heard the cats meowing at the door. They always did that when Minho was at the door. And in seconds you did hear the door click.

You quickly went to him and wrapped your arms tightly around him. He stumbled for a second but quickly returned the hug. "Hey baby." His voice was soft and quiet but it was apparent that he was really tired. He must have overworked himself again. You loved how dedicated and hardworking he was , but it also killed your heart to watch him neglect his needs to achieve perfection. He spent countless hours at work, barely slept and mostly had quick meals which mostly consisted of takeout. You tried to be as accommodating as possible. You did most of the chores in house, and whenever you had time you tried to make him nutritious lunch. But you could do so much.

You couldn't help but pout at him. "Where were you? You didn't even pick up your phone. I was really worried about you!" You couldn't hide your frustration anymore. "You're coming home later and later everyday. You barely sleep or eat! I'm not even going to start talking about how we barely see each other! You need to take care of yourself more baby, you should..." Minho didn't let you finish your ramble, he slid his hand from around your back to your neck and quickly pulled you towards him so he could kiss you. The kiss even though was short was so full of love and yearning that it almost made you melt. Good thing Minho was basically holding you or you would have fallen. "I'm sorry love, training lasted more than usual." Fuck, what were you even mad about? Minho's soft voice always made you weak in the kneez. Also the way he called you love? Bless your heart for lasting this long and not just randomly exploding on you. Little shit surely knew what he was doing to you.

Minho's voice bought you back to reality "Can we go to bed?" "Wait you're not hungry?" The disapproval in your voice made him smile. "I ate at work I promise. I'll take a quick shower. I want to go to bed cuddle you and just exist with you okay?" He paused for a second before bashfully adding sweetest please. Oh he said please there's no way uou could sat no to him. Not that you could, not to that offer. You wanted to tease him for showing his soft side for you but you decided against it once you looked into his eyes. He looked at you with such eyes, he could ask you to kill a man and you'd actually do it. You couldn't put it to words but you knew that he needed you and you were going to be here for him. It really hurt seeig him this tired and overworked. You knew he tried his best not to show it, every day despite being tired as hell he tried to help you with everything he could, be there for you even though he was the one who needed support now. His eyes were red and not sparkly as you're used to. His dark eyebags were prominent. He was a bit shouched and a bit paler. Seing him this vulnerable was like a dohble hit for your heart.

"Of course love. Get ready for bed, I'll put away food and I'll be back." You kissed his cheek and urged him to the bathroom.

You tried to take care of everything as fast as possible. You felt proud of yourself that you took care of most of the chores today. You praised yourself that you changed sheets and brought out new fluffy blankets.

Maybe you were being a bit selfish but it kind of excited you that you could finally spend some time with your boyfriend. You really missed spending time with him, not just existing in the same space. Whenever he came home he always fell asleep and you didn't have the heart to not let him rest little time he spent at home. It was natural you were feeling touchstarved.

You rushed to the bedroom as fast as possible once you were done. The sight almost made you squeal by sheer cuteness. Minho had almost completely covered himself in blankets and now was looking at you with sleepy eyes. The cats also took their designated places on the bed also looked at you as if waiting for you. Maybe you were a little delusional about the last part but wise people say delulu is the solulu.

Minho immediately opened his arms for you, lifting the cover for you to crawl in. You immediately jumped in, finally feeling content being between his arms, feeling his warmth, his familiar scent surroung you. Minho also hummed in satisfaction. "I've missed this so much" you couldn't help but admit. "Please tell me you don't have anything tomorrow and that we can just be in house all day." You looked up at him with hopeful eyes. You saw the corner of his mouth slightly lift up. He leaned down and literally kissed your pout away, not that you could actually be mad at him.

"I'm sorry baby, I have to go in the morning. But I promise I will be back before you even wake up. I will also bring you some breakfast and we can do whatever you want okay? I'm all yours." You couldn't help but beam with joy. Finally he has some time off. "So you're telling me I can make you do anything? Be careful all this power might go up to my head." You quietly spoke as you played with his hair, Minho only hummed. Instead of talking he fully turned to you and hid his face in the crook of your neck, tightly holding you close by your waist.

Sleepy Minho surely was your favourite. He always got like 100 times more squishy and adorable. Literally you had to have patience of a God to not pounce on him and civer his face with kisses. Maybe not only kisses. His cheek was so cutely smushedand his slightly open prettiest pouty lips? You were just a human! You really didn't want to disturb him or else you would have chomped on his squishy cheek eons ago. Cuteness aggression really was eating you from the inside.

"Baby go to sleep. I can feel you staring." Minho grumbled out after a while. So he was awake huh? You couldn't help but smile. You slid your hand through his hair and started playing with his soft locks. Minho immediately leaned into the touch. You were sure he would start purring if he could.

"It's not my fault love." You admitted and softly kissed his cheek. " I've been starved of my boyfriend for days, and now you're here cuddling me looking all pretty and cute! And here I am being generous and letting you sleep on me while all I want is to literally cover you with kisses! And this is the thanks I get?" Based on the silence that followed you thought that he fell asleep, but you were proven wrong when he held your waist tightly with one hand while the other held onto your thigh, and soon enough you were on top of him looking into his mischevious eyes. Apart from his sparkling eyes his lazy grin was also a clear indicator that he was up to no good.

"What are you doing?" You couldn't help but ask.

"First of all you need to spend less time with Hyunjin. Also to answer your question, I'm being a good boyfriend. My partner just said that they want to cover me with kisses. Who am I to oblige?" You were the one who spent too much time with Hyunjin? What was up with these theatrics then? You couldn't help but grin at his lovable but also really silly antics. " You're annoying do younknow that?" You muttered against his lips, softly holding his cheeks. Minho moved his hands and put them on top of yours. "Shut me up then." He didn't even wait for you to say anything, he just leaned in and connected his lips to yours, slowly but surely melting your thoughts away. God you really loved this idiot.

[xoxoladyaz]

AU-gust, Day 5: Pet Sitting

“Nope, no way. Absolutely not.”

Six sets of puppy-dog eyes stared back at her. Lucas, the ham, even pretended to start whimpering.

“Stevie, please,” Dustin whined, “Eddie needs a safe place to stay.”

She stared at Dustin for a few seconds before glancing down at the shoebox in Dustin’s hands. Inside the shoebox surrounded by a few of Claudia’s oldest and fuzziest kitchen towels stood a bat, a small black bat with big black eyes that looked almost just as pathetic as the rest of the kids.

(Almost.)

“I’ve done this song and dance with you before, Henderson, and I told you when you got rid of the alien lizard - ”

“D’artagnan was a cryptid, Stevie!”

“ – alien lizard that I wasn’t going to help you keep playing monster vet. I still haven’t recovered from seeing Mews’ corpse!”

“Mews was my cat and I’m fine! Besides, Eddie’s just a normal bat!”

“Dustin, he has a full head of hair!”

Stevie and Dustin stared at each other before looking back down at the bat (Eddie). Who was running his little claws through his hair and preening. (Stevie could have sworn that he winked at her, but she wasn’t crazy; it was definitely just a trick of the light.)

Dustin’s face started to flush like he was going to argue with her but El (sweet, precious El) cut him off before he could really get going. “Stevie’s right. He is not normal,” El said, stepping forward to run her fingers against Eddie’s head. Eddie rubbed up against her fingers and chirped. 

“See, I knew it - ”

“But he is a friend,” El said and fuck, the full force of El-most-likely-a-changeling-Hopper’s big brown eyes was something Stevie would probably never learn to resist. “And he needs someone to care for him while he gets better.”

“Better? What do you mean, better?”

“Bad man,” El replied matter-of-factly and, well, shit. She didn’t need to say much more than that.

Stevie sighed and turned her attention back towards the “bat” in question. “How long?”

/////

Just a few weeks, maybe a month or two, Dustin had said. “I would have kept him myself but Mom was worried that he’d eat Tews – ”

(“Oh, and you don’t care if I get eaten?” Stevie had replied. Dustin had just rolled his eyes and ignored her.) 

So yeah, two months tops, just until Eddie was “healed” or what not. (He didn’t have any visible injuries that Stevie could see but then again, she was just a cosmetologist, what the fuck did she know about bat anatomy?) Until then, Stevie was going to have a tiny flying roommate who apparently “only likes to listen to metal music, so I’ve brought a few tapes and oh! He loves fantasy so you’ll have to read him this as a bedtime story,” at which point Dustin handed her The Lord of the Rings, “and he gets lonely at night so don’t lock him out, he likes to cuddle, and he should be able to fit in your jacket pocket when you go to work during the day - ”

“No, nope, no way, none of that is happening,” Stevie argued and she really had been planning on sticking to that – no metal music, no bedtime stories, no cuddles, and definitely no work trips, no way, no how.

(She’d folded by hour two of Eddie’s stay at Casa de Harrington.)

/////

“You get this is weird, right?”

“Hmm?” Stevie was cutting apart some strawberries to blend with whatever “protein drink” Dustin kept dropping off at her house. “What’s weird?” She turned to look at Robin, who was watching Eddie shimmy up and down the dining room table to “Rock Me Like a Hurricane.”

“Stevie. This is not normal bat behavior.”

“So? It’s normal Eddie behavior,” Stevie shrugged. She tossed the berries into the blender and, once it was a fine red concoction, put it in a little cup with a little straw and walked over the table. Eddie slid his way across the polished wood and wiggled when he saw her, chittering happily before going to town on his fruit smoothie.

“Yeah, well, this isn’t also normal Stevie behavior!” Robin threw her hands up in the air. “You’re letting a wild animal sleep with you in your bed!”

(She’d tried to encourage Eddie to stay in the guest room that first night all those weeks ago but she’d barely laid in bed for all of two minutes before a dark shape flew through the dark and landed on her chest. She’d screamed and leapt out of the bed but Eddie had somehow managed to grip his claws into her shirt and no amount of arguing with him was able to get him to let go. 

“Fine,” she’d finally growled, “but if I roll over and squish you, it’s not my fault.” 

When she’d finally woken up the next morning, she was still lying on her back and Eddie was still nestled onto her chest. They’d been going to sleep every night that way ever since.)

“Hey,” Stevie replied defensively, “he’s not a wild animal, he’s totally tame.”

“Uh huh,” Robin replied queasily, watching as Eddie happily slurped up his smoothie. “Just because you play dress-up with him doesn’t mean he’s tame, Stevie.”

The tiny vest was from El and Will, something about how Eddie looked “wrong” without it (whatever that meant. Stevie had to admit it did look really cute on him.)

“He looks adorable, Robin!”

“He’s totally taken over your life,” Robin shot back dramatically. “He goes shopping with you, you take him to work – Stevie, he sits with you when you take bubble baths, for Pete’s sake!”

(Hey, Eddie was a gentleman, he always waited until she was covered by bubbles until coming in and sitting on the little nest of towels she’d made for him on the set of drawers by the bathtub and okay, maybe Robin had a point here.)

“And that’s not to mention that I’ve been trying to get you to read a book for literal years now and this bat shows up and suddenly you’re reading Tolkien to him every night?”

“It’s actually a good book, Robin,” Stevie said defensively.

“I know that, Stevie, I just can’t believe that you’re not seeing this! Like, there are so many red flags! He’s literally drinking blood right now!”

Stevie huffed and leaned over the table, like she was physically covering Eddie from Robin’s criticism. “It’s rude to judge somebody else’s eating habits, Robin. Or did you forget our conversation last month when you tried to go vegetarian?”

“That’s different and you know it!” Robin exclaimed. 

Eddie, because he was a little drama king, took the last sip of his smoothie while making eye contact with Robin before letting out an exaggeratedly content sigh. 

“See?!”

Stevie rolled her eyes and set her hand down. Eddie scurried onto her palm, letting out a series of happy chirps. She lifted him up and set him on her shoulder where he waddled to her cheek and pressed his little face against it, like he was giving her a little kiss. “You’re being overdramatic, Robin.”

“Fine, whatever, just don’t come crying to me when he makes you his eternal vampire bride or whatever,” Robin huffed before getting up and stalking out of the kitchen.

“He’s just a bat!” Stevie called after her. Robin responded by slamming the front door after he on the way out. 

Sighing, Stevie turned to look at Eddie, who was currently making a home for himself in her curls. “You are just a bat, right?”

Eddie turned and shot her a wink before wrapping his little body in one of her ringlets.

“Yeah, that’s probably fine.”

/////

One of the best parts of having Eddie around actually was nighttime. She hadn’t gotten so many nights of uninterrupted sleep in years. He was like some sort of nightmare repellent or something; in fact, the only dreams she’d had recently were of a shrouded figure with long dark hair and a sexy laugh and teasing cool hands and other things – 

And when she woke up a month and a half into Eddie’s residency in her home, she probably should have been more shocked at the fact that her bat had turned into a very pale, very sexy and very naked man with long dark hair and cool skin and – 

“God, Robin’s never going to let me live this down,” Stevie murmured as the man stirred above her. He opened his eyes and yep, yeah, those were her bat’s eyes. 

Eddie’s grin grew sharp as he pressed her further into her bed. “I’m sure I can find some way to make up for it,” he said as he drew close enough to kiss her. 

“How do you feel about a Halloween wedding?”

[rizsu]

cherry balms gojo, nanami, geto.

sum. ex bf gojo, ceo nanami + one night stand geto. zzz not proofread sry !!

gojo satoru.

“literally why are you sneaking around?” gojo questions. although he's basically crashing in your house, he still finds it odd that you're acting as if he hasn't seen above and beyond from you. his eyes trace your figure, he engraves every detail in his mind—almost as if he's slowly forgetting and doesn't want to.

gojo leans back onto the bed's frame, hands folded behind his head with one leg up. if you were to be honest, he looks devourable—if it's even a proper word. he's sporting a fitted black t-shirt, gray sweatpants, and a silver chain. a fit that'll make anyone drop; simple yet defines.

you waddle to your closet, careful to not slip on the water dripping from your body. yeah, you just finished your bath and would've changed your clothes right in your room, but someone decided to welcome himself. piling your outfit on your arm, you grab your phone from the bed and waddle back to the bathroom.

well, that was the plan but yet again gojo had other plans. one swift movement of his hand (lightly) gripping on your robe and you're pulled right back down to his level.

“do you need something!?!?” “you maybe. i dunno.”

.

.

.

oh okay! you think, not sure if you should act surprised or if you should bite his arm to set you free. either way, it's not like he'd react. after all, he's been your (ex) boyfriend for more than two-three years. he knows you.

gojo doesn't let you go—in fact, he uses the same hand to wrap it around your waist and keeps it there. surely enough simple touches between exes are fine right..? maybe it isn't. who knows and who cares? not him!

even though your break-up was mutual, it didn't fail to leave a salty taste in gojo. he's good at masking his negative feelings but sometimes, that barrier is broken and he has no proper/healthy way to deal with it. approximately two weeks after the break-up, gojo tried flings, one night stands, hook ups, and even dates but they all failed after he reveal his longest relationship being two-three years. absolutely no one wants to compete with someone who was practically his soulmate.

“SA-TO-RU!” a call of his name along with slap on the arm shakes gojo from his thoughts. apparently, he's been zoning out while staring directly at you without blinking which creeped you out. you know better than anyone that when gojo zones out, he zones out. it's like having the eyes of god spawn in front of you without warning.

gojo ruffles his hair, redirecting any out of place hair strand back to its position. sighing, he looks at you before speaking his mind, “let me kiss you.”

now it's your turn to sigh. eons of knowing gojo and you still manage to react to his shameless requests.

nanami kento.

“okay, can i change first at least??”

“no, thanks.”

“what do you mean “thanks”!?”

busy and boring. that's it. those are the only words that can describe office worker life. you agree, it's nice to work for a large corporation as their advisor but it's so boring. you can't stress enough how many times you forced your eyes to stay open. the time can be two hours into work and here you are, opening your eyes with your fingers to not succumb to the creeping slumber.

stretching your body, you let out a yawn before fixing all documents to deliver for your boss. every day you thank god that your boss isn't some old man that's impatient. your boss, nanami kento, likes punctuality but he gives a grace period of one day. anything later than a day results in extra work and payment cut.

throughout the long hallway, the clacks of your heels can be heard but you don't mind; it's actually a nice sound. makes you feel like a true professional. standing in front the door that reads ‘Nanami Kento: Official C.E.O’ in a gold plated sign, you knock twice while speaking your name, “y/n l/n here, boss.”

no more than thirty seconds later, nanami orders you to enter as he says his goodbyes to some random that you assume to be a business partner. gesturing you to come closer, nanami folds his glasses into his shirt as he spins a pen on his hand.

“i take it you're finished with the documents?” he assumes, glancing at you before his gaze returns to the stacks of paper on his desk.

marking every fifth booklet with your fingers, you neatly place them on the less crowded side of his desk, “yes. they're all signed too, boss.”

clicking his pen, nanami praises your work with a little “good job.” and signs off his last signature needed for the day. placing his pen in its holder, he reclines back into his chair with a moan of relief. the feeling of his back getting some support will never not be good.

you awkwardly stand in your position, hands clasped together behind your back as you await his next instructions. luckily for you, he never delays anything.

“sit here,” nanami taps his lap twice. he watches you hesitate before you make any movement towards him. closing his eyes, he leans his head back into his chair, stretching it to the left and right. nanami feels your weight shifted to the edge of his knee—yeah, he doesn't like that. why are you closer to his desk than you are to him?!

“i said here, y/n” “my bad..”

shifting closer to him, you get close enough to sink your head in the junction of his shoulder to neck. just close enough so that you don't need to rest your entire upper body on him.

“if i'm going to be honest, this feels so wrong.”

nanami hums at your sentence. with his head is still resting on his chair, he questions you, “how so?”

you fiddle with your fingers—you can't quite put it into words. there's something about it that feels taboo but it's not. this overthinking can possibly be the side effects of indulging in too many drama t.v. shows.

“i dunno.. it just does? not really but yeah.” “quit overthinking.”

although he's holding a neutral expression, nanami's smiling at your worry. he thinks it's actually the dumbest thing to worry about but he'll keep it to himself.

“you're here because i want you here. also, you're a talented woman.” he reassures you, squeezing your thigh with one hand in an automatic rhythm.

geto suguru.

geto enjoys the sweet dream he's having. after a long night, all he needed was a nice shower, one or two cigarettes, and sleep. twisting and turning, he relishes in the soft sheets until his hand accidently slaps something—most likely your face. his hand halts in its position as he sits up sharply at a perfect ninety degree angle. who the fuck, he wonders, looking at you who's also enjoying a good sleep even after that slap.

it takes geto about ten minutes to function his brain's thinking ability and remember what took place before he knocked out cold. oh right, he thinks. he remembers meeting you at some club, offering to take you to his and the rest is history. surprisingly, that was out of character for him. as much as he flirts and makes out like his fellow friends, he's never gone more than a make out session.

taking a big yawn, geto runs his hand up and down his torso before concluding that he should go back to sleep. slamming his head down, he reaches for your waist and pulls (drags) you close enough so that your back's directly on his torso. if he can't hug his pillow because you stole it, he'll simply hug you.

with a leg thrown over you, one hand comfortably resting on your upper body as the other's under his head, geto sinks back into slumberland with you. he's going to keep you there until he wakes up again—whatever happens before that is not his business.

[notmyneighbor]

instinct | doppel francis x female reader

rating | explicit

part 4/?

words | 5.3k

cw | sexual content

ao3 link

fanart credit | kri_stasss on X

taglist | | @maskedpacific @dreamndestiny @r-o-s-e-0

Of all the things you might have listed on your Bingo card for this year, sitting on your couch sideways with your bare legs folded over the lap of a doppelganger definitely hadn’t been one of them.

You remark as much as you take another bite of your pizza, watching with equal parts distaste and fascination at how swiftly Francis’ clone has managed to put down three slices already, earning a puzzled look as he kisses an apology on one knee after briefly balancing the paper plate on your unprotected skin. That pie was hot. You’d barely had time to shower before answering the door for the delivery person. Thankfully you’d gotten to slide into comfortable pajamas while your counterpart had made the sacrifice to redress and deal with collecting dinner at the door.

“It’s a list of things that you’re expecting to happen,” you explain, taking a sip of your soda.

“Ah. Well, you can’t predict everything. Patterns change. Routines give way to spontaneity. Speaking of which…”

You groan. “I knew you’d steer things this way. Yes, we should discuss our strategy for the interview tomorrow. Firstly, the setting. If we approach him at school, he won’t be expecting us.”

“True,” the doppel muses, adding another slice to his now empty plate. “But then again, individuals tend to be more relaxed at home. They behave differently in their own environment.”

“That, and I wouldn’t mind getting a look inside, although I doubt he’s going to have anything on display out in the open that would incriminate him, but it would really be nice.” You drop your crust on your plate and dust your fingers off.

“Are you going to finish that?”

“No. You can have it.” You hand your leftovers to the mimic. “Tomorrow night we are eating something healthy come hell or high water.”

A smile twitches on the milkman’s imposter’s lips and your eyes narrow suspiciously. Apparently he didn’t need a translation for this expression.

“What’s that look for?”

“Nothing. Just…you’re already planning on us having dinner together tomorrow.”

“Oh. I mean…it just seems likely.”

“One of your Bingo card items, yes?”

“Hush, you.” You shove his arm playfully.

“So what’s it to be? School or home?”

You chew your bottom lip, considering. “School. Element of surprise might give a better advantage overall. My next question is, do we approach together, or do we keep one member of the team on standby? Once he knows we’re on to him, he’s going to be even more dangerous. It might be better if he didn’t know both of our faces.”

Francis’ clone frowns. “If that’s the case, I’ll be the one doing the interviewing.”

You shake your head. “No. He might be more cocky talking to a female. Thinking he’s got an advantage.”

“Or he might clam up and not talk at all. He’s dangerous. I don’t think you should be there by yourself.”

“Not any less dangerous for you.”

“Together, then?”

“Together.”

“Alright. And then I want to revisit the murder scenes. I know they’ve been combed over, but I feel like we’re missing something. After that we need to touch base with the Chief.”

“Sounds like a solid plan.” The doppel wipes his fingers off on a napkin and then eases back further against the couch cushions, resting one palm against your knee, tracing small circles along your skin. The activities of the day have finally taken their toll on you and you feel your eyelids getting heavy. “Time for bed?”

“Yeah.”

“Alright. Let’s go.”

You sigh, shifting your legs over the side of the couch and standing, tidying up the living room before following the doppelganger back into your bedroom. He’s already begun shedding his clothing again, stripping down to his underwear, then settling onto the newly changed bed linens.

“There is nothing better than fresh sheets,” you sigh contentedly as you join him, leaning over to switch off the lamp on the nightstand.

“I can think of a few things,” he murmurs. “But I agree, it is pleasant.”

You tuck your face against the doppel’s shoulder. “Shit. I forgot to set the alarm.”

“Already done.”

“Oh, good.” You sigh again. It’s been awhile since you’ve shared a bed with someone. It feels nice having an arm curled around you, even if it belongs to a replicant. “Need to stop by the laundromat tomorrow to wash the comforter. Maybe we could do that in between errands.” You yawn, the sound freezing midway. “Francis,” you whisper.

“What?”

“The laundromat.” Your head lifts. You can’t see him in the darkness, but you know his eyes are on you. “What if the suspect was there doing laundry?”

“Okay, say he was. It’s self service. No way to prove he was there.”

“Maybe there was a reason he was in all of the places individuals were murdered. Doing errands.”

“Some of the sites were homes, though.”

“So maybe he followed them back. Maybe he was somewhere else, first. With them. And he targeted them.” You struggle to sit up, suddenly alert again, switching the light back on.

The cloned milkman rubs at his eyes. “I thought we were going to sleep. We can pick this up tomorrow.”

“We will, I just…” You lean back over, dragging a pad of paper and a pen from the top drawer of the nightstand. “Give me another one of the locations. The residences.”

Francis’ copy rakes a hand through his hair, frowning as he tries to recall the information. “Twenty eight Elm?”

“Twenty seven,” you correct absently. “Yes. All houses in that area, except…there’s a convenience store here.” You quickly sketch a series of squares meant to be houses and lines for roads, then point to one of the boxes.

The doppel shifts to sit up beside you, observing your drawing. “Okay. Possible. We can swing by and show a photo to the clerk. What about the other sites?”

One by one you brainstorm each location. Here, a barber shop two blocks away. There, an auto mechanic on the road just behind. There is also a coffee shop open twenty four hours a day within reasonable distance of another scene.

“This is it. The locations aren’t random. He was at each of them. We can prove some of it, at least. Someone has to remember him.”

“Good. Still not concrete evidence, though.”

“No, it’s not.” You tap the edge of the writing utensil against the page. “The most vicious attack to date was that one at the laundromat. There has to be something there.”

“We’ll go and check it out. Tomorrow,” he emphasizes, reaching for the pen and paper and tossing them onto the top of the nightstand. “Now it’s time for rest.”

“Alright,” you grumble reluctantly. You know you’re right about this. The certainty has you in its grip and you’re not even sure if you’ll be able to sleep now, but you turn the lamp back off and settle next to your partner again. “What happened to your self proclaimed superior stamina?”

“It’s still there. Is that a challenge, sweetheart? You still hungry for more?”

“Are you?”

“As I’ve already told you. We’re always hungry.” His mouth finds yours in the darkness.

***

Your suspect, as it turns out, has a free period right after lunch. The perfect time for an interview.

The prospect of finally meeting the man face to face makes you nervous with anticipation. You fuss with your clothing until Francis’ clone settles his warm palm over your restless fingers. He offers a small smile and you nod, inhaling deeply.

At last the receptionist returns from her break to guide you to the classroom where the man is, apparently shunning the company of the rest of the faculty occupying the break room in favor of consuming the midday meal alone. He looks unfazed at being interrupted, gesturing to a pair of seats across from his desk but you politely decline, passing the wall with its periodic table of elements and a chalkboard that needs a proper wipe down to flash your badge while your partner mirrors your movements and then steps back, his arm pressed near yours. He’s entirely too close, but you’re grateful for the comfort.

The first thing you notice about William Afton are his eyes.

Pale, dead, like a shark’s eyes. They make your skin crawl. His dark hair has a tidy side part, the lenses of his glasses are rectangular and rather petite for his features, and the fingers that clear his desk blotter of the packaging that had housed his lunch are long and slender and particularly well manicured. Does he scrub those trimmed, smooth nails after his crimes, being careful to wipe away evidence, erasing skin and blood and gore?

“How can I be of assistance, detectives?”

His voice is smooth like river rocks, deep like the ocean. You feel the undercurrent of it tugging you along. An entire lecture from this man’s lips must be something to behold.

“As I’m sure you’re aware, the recent brutal sweep of murders have prompted an investigation. We’ve been able to narrow down the killer’s radius and identified potential targets.”

You’d discussed how best to introduce the situation beforehand, wanting to see how the man would react. His features remain frustratingly placid, revealing nothing of his thoughts.

“You think I’m a target? I wasn’t aware the police had progressed so far in their pursuit. I’ve seen very little updates in the newspapers or television broadcasts.”

“So you’re following the case, then?”

“Well, you can hardly expect any citizen not to. Not when the threat is so close to home.”

“Have you noticed anything unusual in your neighborhood lately? Any sightings of someone you don’t recognize?”

Afton withdraws a Manila folder from one of his drawers and sets it on top of his desk, choosing a red pen from the mug nearby and then laying it on top of the closed file. His eyes flick from yours to the doppelganger’s. “I don’t spend much time outdoors, but no, I haven’t seen anyone suspicious. Is there someone I should be on the lookout for? Have any witnesses come forward?”

“I’m afraid not,” you lie. “We haven’t been able to narrow down our list of potential suspects just yet.”

“That explains the lack of updates on the news,” he remarks drily. “Well, I’m sorry I wasn’t able to be more helpful. I wish you luck on your search. If you’ll excuse me, I do have some exams to grade.”

“We won’t take up much more of your time,” you interject. You feel the imposter’s body stiffen beside you. You’re going off script. “Just to clarify a few points. We’ve been trying to ascertain where members of the community were in relation to the attack sites. I realize a series of dates thrown at you won’t immediately trigger a recollection of where you were at the time, so we’ll keep it to just one for now, the most recent one last week: the laundromat. Do you remember where you were that afternoon?”

The teacher drums his fingers on top of the folder, regarding you. “I’ve no need to use their services. I have my own appliances at my residence.”

“Do you recall where you were that day, though? It was a Saturday,” you remind him.

“Probably doing some chores at home. My day off,” he elaborates. “You know how it is. Getting caught up on things you can’t do during the week.”

You nod. “Of course.”

His fingers still. “It sounds as if you're screening me as a potential suspect, not a possible witness,” he observes.

“Not at all. Just trying to place where everyone was. Hoping to maybe find someone that might have heard or seen something and not even realized it yet.”

“Grasping at straws, then. You really don’t have any leads.” Now there is an unmistakable hint of contempt in the teacher’s tone.

You frown, about to reply, but Francis’ doppel speaks first. “We can’t discuss certain aspects of the case with the general public. But rest assured we will find the person responsible.”

The seated man’s lips twitch in an almost but not quite smile.

“You live alone, Mr. Afton, is that correct?”

The mocking, satisfied look fades from his lips. “Yes. What does that have to do with anything?”

You feel the politeness shifting to wariness and you work quickly to shift the conversation to a close before he grows suspicious. “Just verifying our information. We recommend you keep your doors and windows locked and that you’re aware of your surroundings.”

“I had no intention of doing otherwise.”

“Right. Well, that should be all for now. If you think of anything that might be helpful, don’t hesitate to contact the station.”

“Do you have a business card?”

“Oh. Yes, here.”

Your partner intervenes then, swiftly extracting a card from his wallet and handing it to the seated man. You recognize the gesture for what it is: he’s trying to protect you.

“Thank you for your cooperation.”

“Of course. Good luck, detectives.”

You actually shiver once your leave the classroom and begin walking down the corridor. You feel like you’ve just touched something slimy. “He’s dirty, Francis.”

“I agree. He’s definitely suspicious. What was that back there? You didn’t stick to our plan.”

“I was trying to draw him out. Wanted to see how he’d react. I know it was a gamble. I just needed to prod him a bit.”

You descend the staircase leading to the front entrance of the high school campus and slide behind the wheel of your car. “I want to start hitting up those local businesses. See if we can place him anywhere near those murder sites.”

By late afternoon you have some successful witnesses to Afton’s presence in three of the locations. He’s a regular at the convenience store and the coffee shop, and he’s been to the auto body shop within the last month.

You save the laundromat for last, entering the alley and scanning the ground and the sides of the neighboring buildings, holding a hand to your nostrils to block the odor. “Man, what are people tossing in here? It reeks.”

The doppelganger takes a few steps further in, his eyes sweeping the narrow space. You stomp your foot in frustration, turning back to face the street when your eyes fall on the dumpsters again. “Francis.”

“What is it? Got something?”

“Your doppel acquaintance said he was tucked behind the rubbish container to shield what he was doing.”

“Yes.”

“Ripping the body to shreds with the replicant claws he’d borrowed.”

“Correct.”

You glance at your partner. “So that’s got to leave a huge mess behind. It’s not precise like using a weapon.”

“But the site has already been searched. There weren’t any prints. No DNA from the killer.”

“Do you think anyone checked underneath the dumpsters? They’re on wheels. Not flush with the ground.”

The mimic tips his head to one side thoughtfully. “Probably not. You want me to scout around down there?”

“I think it’s worth it.”

“You owe me a shower session after this,” he mumbles, kneeling on the asphalt and then lowering his upper body until he can peer underneath. He reaches into his pocket for a tiny flashlight on his keyring, shining the beam around, suddenly freezing. “I think I see something. Got an evidence bag handy?”

“Yeah, in the car. Hang on.” You quickly retrieve the bag and return to Francis’ clone, hoping you’re finally about to catch a break on the case with some concrete evidence. “Here.”

You watch as he withdraws a pen from his shirt pocket, hearing him scrape something into the evidence container before he straightens, holding up his prize. There’s a shirt button inside, a tiny clear plastic disc smudged with a dark stain.

“Oh shit, look at that.”

“Could belong to anyone. Can’t tell if that’s dirt or what.”

“It could be his, though. And that could be blood. We gotta drop this off with Forensics. Good job, Francis.”

“It was your idea. You deserve partial credit at least.” He pushes himself to his feet, dusting his hands off after he hands you the bag. “After that, can we do dinner? I’m starving.”

“What else is new?” You tease, then your expression softens. “Yeah, we can stop at the store to pick up some things on the way back.”

“Want to stay at my place tonight?”

“Okay.” You return to the car, wondering what Francis’ residence might look like. You try to imagine the doppel apartment hunting, furnishing his home, and it makes you smile again.

“You’re in a good mood,” he observes with a fond smile of his own.

“I feel like we made progress today. It feels good,” you concede.

“We did make progress. We’re an effective team.” He leans closer, his voice lowering. “I don’t want to touch you with dirty hands, so I’ll settle for a kiss instead. I miss that mouth.”

You allow yourself one brief brush against his lips before starting the car. You’re craving his touch more than you’re admitting. The case had been distracting you, but now that your work is almost finished, your thoughts are wandering. You squirm a little in your seat and the movement doesn’t go unnoticed by your passenger.

“Getting a little restless, honey? Don’t worry. I’ll fill you right up again.”

“Francis,” you murmur, a warm ache filling your lower belly.

“I told you, you’re mine. Going to fuck you senseless later,” he promises.

You don’t obey the speed limit for the rest of the drive.

***

After a brief stop by the police station to drop off the evidence (and a quick trip to the bathroom so the replicant can wash his hands) you bring your partner to the grocery store. Baked chicken and vegetables and a white zinfandel sounds like the perfect meal, allowing the doppel to add a ready made frozen cheesecake to the contents of the shopping cart before checking out. You have no idea what kind of provisions the man has in his fridge and cupboards but you’re willing to bet it’s minimal at best. You toss a few seasoning items into the overnight bag along with pajamas and a change of clothes and then you declare that you’re finally ready to return with Francis’ doppel to his apartment, even surrendering the keys and allowing him to drive.

Your jaw drops when you see your partner’s lodgings.

His apartment is in a good part of the city and it’s nicely decorated with modern furnishings and appliances. Far classier and more elegant than your own humble abode.

“How the heck did you manage something like this?” You murmur as you begin unpacking the groceries.

Francis’ clone shrugs. “Kind of lucked out, really. Chief has connections.”

“Sexist jerk,” you mumble. “I knew I was getting robbed.”

“After we solve this case, I’m sure you’ll get a raise,” he says, planting a kiss on your cheek.

“Hmph. Go take your shower and I’ll get dinner started.”

“Alright. Don’t scowl, sweetheart. I like it when you smile so much better.” Another kiss to mollify you. It’s somewhat effective. You find your pleasant mood gradually returning as you begin preparing the meal. You switch on the television in the nearby living room for background noise, listening more attentively when the highlights of the day are recounted. Nothing concerning the case. Your interest fades and you refocus on cooking.

When the doppelganger returns, his damp hair slicked back, wearing only an undershirt and boxers, you find yourself distracted again. You cuddle on the couch until the oven beeps, interrupting kisses and touches that had begun to grow heated.

Once you’re both seated at the kitchen table with plates of steaming hot food in front of you, you hum appreciatively around your first bite, taking a sip from a glass that isn’t intended for wine. It feels silly drinking from the inelegant tumbler but you suppose it really doesn’t matter what container it’s in. “So what do you do after working all day?”

“Not much. Usually just rest on the couch for awhile. Watch television. Go to bed. This is good,” he compliments you as he samples another forkful of seasoned potatoes. “You led me to believe you couldn’t cook.”

“I mean, I can manage a few basic things.”

“You’ll have to teach me. I cannot.”

“I’ve noticed,” you murmur wryly. “You and your take out.”

He shrugs. “It serves its purpose.”

You have a brief thought of what he might have consumed before diverting his meals from humans themselves and your stomach flutters unpleasantly. Did he ever indulge on occassion, unable to resist what he truly craved? You certainly hoped not.

“You’ve got that dark look on your face again,” he observes, gesturing at you with his fork, the tines violently spearing a piece of chicken before he takes a bite.

“Sorry. Just thinking.” You shake your head as if to free your mind of the unsavory thoughts.

“I’m going to grab seconds.”

“Save room for dessert.”

“I will.” He smirks, nudging your leg with his bare foot. “Including you.”

You return the sly grin.

***

You sink into the mattress with a contented sigh.

The sheets have a satisfying crisp, cool feel against your skin. The doppelganger seems bemused by your response, propping up his head on one hand while he lets his fingers skim across your skin. You’ve brushed your teeth and slipped into a satin camisole that had been tucked away at the back of your dresser drawer. You’d worn it a grand total of one time previously, the gesture unappreciated by your ex.

“I like this. Like liquid. Reminds me of the ocean,” he murmurs, caressing the curve of one breast through the teal colored fabric.

“You like the beach?”

“The sea. Yes, I think it’s beautiful. There’s a kind of calm there. The magnitude of that expanse should be daunting, but I find it soothing instead.” He’s found your nipple, the pad of his middle finger drawing tiny circles over the pebbling flesh.

“We should go together sometime.”

“I’d like that.” One last stroke and then he shifts to the opposite mound, repeating the same process. You squirm a little beneath his touch, both impatient for him to go further and content to allow this gentle exploration to continue. His head finally lifts from its support and he bends to kiss your chest just above the neckline of your gown, eyes flicking up to your face, the faintest smile ghosting his lips before his thumb slips beneath the strap of your lingerie and slides it over your shoulder. He kisses that joint with the same reserved pressure, another soft graze before he tugs at the neckline of your nightie and his tongue rasps across your exposed nipple.

“Francis…”

He suckles now, a quick pull between his lips, and you torso shifts restlessly, your fingers sinking into his hair.

“I can give it to you however you want. Hard or soft. Fast or slow.” He climbs over you, his face dipping until it hovers just above yours, his dark eyes burning into you. “I can be whatever you want. Whatever you need.” He kisses your mouth, then draws back to study your features. “What’s it to be tonight, sweetheart?”

You’re still feeling buzzed from the wine. You wonder if he isn’t feeling the effects too. Or maybe the doppels metabolized alcohol differently. You trace his lips and follow the arch of his cheekbone and a sigh escapes him, warm against your skin. “I don’t even know how to respond to that,” you reply dazedly. “I’ve never had anyone offer…”

“You’ve no idea how you make me feel, do you?” His hips press down against yours and you gasp at the feel of his erection but then he surprises you by taking your hand and pressing it against his chest, when the heart beating within that cavity feels so familiar, so like your own, an answering echo between you.

You want to say it’s too soon, that the feelings are being mistaken, guided by hormones, infatuation and lust driving emotions, but that slight tremor along his jaw, that flutter of his lashes before his mouth rejoins yours feels so raw, so sincere. You want to be reckless like that, just give yourself over, but that wall is still there, trying to shield you from any more hurt. There’s only one way this can go. You can’t have feelings for him. He’s your work partner. He’s not even human.

“I’m not going anywhere. This case ends, whatever happens, I’m still going to be with you. I want to make you forget everyone that’s ever hurt you. Will you allow me to do that for you?”

“Oh, Francis, I want to.”

“Let me in, honey. Let me in. Let me in,” he croons against your ear, stroking you hip and nudging aside the satin, fingers stuttering, surprised to find you’ve skipped wearing panties. You hadn’t seen the point. This was always going to be the end result of your evening together. Inevitable.

“Francis…”

“Hummm…fuck,” he growls when he wedges between your parted legs and inserts himself into your body, a slow thrust up and his mouth crushing down. You whimper and roll your pelvis to meet his. Still sore from the previous evening but you welcome the intrusion, the stretch and fill, the ache and pleasure being joined with the replicant brings. “You like it?”

“Yes,” you huff between kisses. His pace is still slow, plunging deep, gradually retreating, shoved back forward, then withdrawing. No signs of what really lies beneath tonight, just the mortal form of the milkman, though you swear you can still feel the mimic regardless, a kind of vibration palpable beneath the human skin that conceals him, as if it’s struggling to break free.

It should terrify you, and yet it doesn’t; there’s an odd sort of thrill at the knowledge, at the memory. You already know a little of what he’s capable of. You have no doubt he could fuck you for hours, straight ‘til dawn, leaving you absolutely ravaged and you want that; crave that kind of wild abandon and surrender.

How sweet his promises sound when he offers you this spot in his bed permanently while his cock begins pummeling you more insistently, nudging at your insides; when he talks about bringing you to the shoreline, to listen to the waves crash, to feel the wind in your hair and taste the salt on your skin. He’s meant to be a deceiver; you know it, but it sounds so sincere and you want to believe him. You want…

“Francis,” you gasp, the first rolls of bliss thundering through you, catching you off guard, your nails digging into his skin.

“Good girl,” he hums. “My good girl. Mine.”

You find you don’t mind the praise as much now, letting it roll over you just like the beads of perspiration dripping down your brow, sliding between your colliding bodies.

He’s beside you now, outside your body, looking at you with those hungry eyes, touching you with careful fingers. You find yourself climbing over him, kissing your way down his chest, sucking along the crest of one hip, your eyes meeting his before you divert to the middle, licking a stripe along his cock, your taste heavy on him, still slick with your juices, with the precum that leaks from the head. Your mouth waters and you push your lips over the flushed crown, eliciting a little hiss and moan. It’s more than you can comfortably take, your gag reflex already straining, but you’re determined, alternating between impaling your throat several times and then gasping for air, slathering your saliva over his prick. He assists you the next time, his fingers buried in your hair, gripping your head, holding you in place. For a panicked moment you struggle, eyes watering, and then he releases you. You hold yourself there for a moment longer before surrendering and you hear a soft, pleased chuckle rumbling from your lover.

“So stubborn,” he murmurs. “But I knew you could do it. You’ll choke down my real cock too, one of these nights.” His thumb presses along your bottom lip and then shoves inside your mouth, dragging along the carpet of your tongue. “What a fucking wonder you are.”

Straddling the doppel, you bend down to kiss his mouth, wet and sloppy, a thread of spit linking rosy wedges before he slurps it up, head lifting to recapture your mouth. Your palm rests at the base of his throat and he covers it with his own, squeezing lightly. “You can be rough with me, honey. I’m not going to break. Use me. Do whatever you want to me.”

You inhale deeply, holding your own breath while you restrict his. You’re still not confident, releasing your hold abruptly and gasping in a lungful of air. “A work in progress,” you concede, shifting your attention now to guiding him back inside of you.

“You’re so brave,” he hums, his hips lifting as you grind down and oh, is it nice, sitting on that fat cock, rocking back and forth with shallow, teasing little motions while your lips worship his features, moving from cheek to jaw to neck then back to his mouth again. “So brave, and clever, and beautiful.”

“I don’t know about that last one.”

“Only the last one?” He nips your earlobe playfully. “You are.”

“Why are you so good at pillowtalk?” You don’t want to admit there’s a little flair of jealousy hidden in those lightly uttered words. You don’t want to think about him being intimate with other people, humans or doppels.

“I just say what I feel. Uninhibited. You should try it.”

“That’s not how humans operate. If everyone just said whatever they were thinking…”

“What would happen? Would the world come to an end?”

“Fuck, I don’t know. Maybe.” You lean back, now grinding down in earnest, clutching the hands he offers, using them to support you. “You really could do this for hours, couldn’t you?”

He smirks. “Yes.”

“No bullshit bragging?”

“No bullshit bragging.”

“Fuck.”

“Mmm-hmm.” His eyes flash and he slams his hips upward, knocking the breath from your lungs.

“Show off,” you pant.

“I’m actually displaying tremendous restraint right now.” Another sharp roll of his pelvis.

“What are you holding back from doing?”

“Oh, honey, that’s a dangerous question and you know it.” He sits up, wrapping an arm around your lower spine, keeping you impaled on him while he maneuvers you back beneath him. Your heels dig into the dimples above his buttocks as he resumes fucking into you. That humming sensation along his skin is stronger now, a more violent rattle as the monster within tries to shake itself free. “I won’t let it out unless you ask,” he whispers. You nod, then murmur your assent. “Are you certain?”

“I want you.”

A heavy exhale. The skin beneath your fingers ripples. You feel it inside of you first, that doppel’s cock stretching and uncoiling and spearing you deeper. His tongue is next, curling around your ear, slipping down your neck and teasing your shoulder before disappearing back behind rows of sharp teeth. His claws have returned too, digging into your skin. His eyes are the last to shift, transforming into hypnotic pools that you can’t look away from. Even still, you know this isn’t everything he’s concealing; he’s still being cautious. Gauging what you’ll tolerate.

“One day,” he says, as if sensing your thoughts. His voice has become rougher, raspier, sawing over your lips before he parts them, cleaving with that wicked tongue. His claws sink into your hair, wrenching your head back, just enough for you to feel a slight burn near the roots before he relaxes his grip, soothing kisses exchanging for probing muscle. “You already have me. You know that. Ruined me for anyone else.” Inside your core, he reaches all the most sensitive places. A flutter starts low in your belly. At the feeling. At his words. “Let me in,” he says, and you realize he doesn’t mean the union of your bodies.

The barrier you’d constructed so carefully, shored up for so long, now steadily crumbling.

[wolfjackle-creates]

Ghost!Robin Arc 2 Part 2

Ghost!Robin won this week's poll as well! So have a little bit more of the fic for WIP Wednesday. *resolutely ignores the clock that informs me midnight was an hour ago so it is clearly Thursday*

Check out this week's poll if you want a say in what I post next.

Story Summary: Everything changed the evening Jason met Jazz's brother. Danny introduced him and his entire family to the ghost that is, apparently, haunting him. The ghost of the Robin he had been.

The ghost of the person everyone he's ever known wishes he still was.

All he wants is to make it go away.

First, Previous

Word Count: 1.2k

-----

Jason did not sleep that night, spending his time beating up a punching bag instead. What sleep he did get was laid out on the mats in the workout room. Even that was plagued by nightmares.

So it was with The Joker’s laughs still echoing in his ears that he finally dragged himself to the kitchen to start making breakfast.

Danny was no where to be seen—probably sleeping—but the ghost was. He was staring out the window not doing anything.

“Shouldn’t you be sleeping?” grumbled Jason.

The ghost did the head motion every Robin learned to indicate they were rolling their eyes. Can’t he signed.

Jason grunted. He…probably should have figured that one out. “Well go read a book or something and don’t bother me.”

The ghost gave him a very deliberate look before flying to one of the bookcases and reaching for a book. Only for his hand to go right through it. He glared back at Jason.

“Oh.” Jason did not feel bad for the creature. He was the interloper here. But the silence in the room was not helping anything. Not with his nightmares so close to the surface. He hooked his phone up to a portable speaker and pulled up his audiobook library. Today was the sort of day for an old favorite.

Emma Woodhouse, handsome, clever, and rich, with a comfortable home and happy disposition, seemed to unite some of the best blessings of existence…

Jason hummed in satisfaction and turned his attention to the fridge. What to make for breakfast? He resolutely ignored the ghost who’d settled in his living room.

A few hours later, Jason was finishing the homemade fruit sauce when arms wrapped around his stomach and a head rested against his back.

“Mmmm, smells good,” mumbled Jazz, her voice rough with sleep.

Jason patted her arm. “I remember you liked the strawberry topping. Figured we could have it over pancakes. Batter is in the fridge.”

“Best boyfriend ever,” she said. She rested her head against his back and Jason felt himself relax in a way he hadn’t since he’d stepped out of the dining room and saw the ghost. “You left early.”

His stomach sank. Of course she noticed. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“Jason,” she said flatly, a hint of warning in her tone.

He sighed. “I just couldn’t sleep. Too many thoughts going ‘round my head.”

“Hence the Austen?”

He chuckled. “Hence the Austen.”

She yawned and pushed away from him. “I’ll go brush my teeth and get Danny up.”

“He was up pretty late himself; might need to sleep in.”

She groaned. “Of course he was up, too. Well too bad. He could’ve gone to bed earlier and I think we need to have a talk about what to do next.”

“He said something about doctor yetis and a place called the Far Frozen,” Jason said. He stirred the strawberries and lifted a spoonful to test it’s consistency. Perfect. He turned off the burner.

“Oh. And you agreed?”

Jason shrugged. “Doesn’t seem like I have much of a choice if I want that”—he jerked a thumb at the ghost—“gone.”

“Jason…” her voice had gone soft and he winced.

“I know,” he admitted to the stove. “I know it’s gonna be more complicated than that.”

She was silent for a moment before sighing. “I love you, Jay,” was all she said before walking away. Presumably to the bathroom to get ready.

Which meant he had to start the pancakes. He pulled out the griddle, added a wad of butter, and turned on the heat.

By the time Jazz and Danny returned, Jason had made a pile of pancakes large enough to satisfy a speedster. Next to it sat the strawberry topping and a jar of syrup in case that was Danny’s preference. On an impulse, he grabbed the chocolate chips, too.

Chocolate and Austen, the perfect combination for a crappy day.

Unfortunately, breakfast passed much too quickly for his tastes and soon enough they were packing away the leftovers in the fridge.

“Jazz, you’re so lucky you found someone who could cook,” commented Danny.

Jason had to laugh. “Yeah, not one of her skills, is it?”

“Not one of either of our skills. Has she told you about what our kitchen was like growing up?”

“After your knife comment last night, I feel like she may have left some things out.” Despite everything that had happened since, he hadn’t forgotten that little tidbit. Jazz was so tight-lipped about her childhood that Jason made a point to horde every detail she let slip.

Jazz groaned. “Nope. I’m full of delicious food and happy. I do not want to have to remember the hell that was the Fenton kitchen.”

From the corner of his eye. Jason could see the ghost looking at them with interest. He glared at him; the ghost glared right back.

“That’s enough, you two,” ordered Jazz.

Jason broke eye contact and stared at the floor to mumble and insincere apology he knew wouldn’t fool Jazz.

Luckily she took pity on him and didn’t push. “Danny, Jason said something about you taking us to the Far Frozen?”

Danny nodded. “Yep! Frostbite might be able to tell us what happened and have some ideas on how to help them.”

“Well, Jason, Robin,” started Jazz and Jason had to force himself to not wince at the way she addressed them both. “When do you think you want to go?”

“Now,” said Jason immediately. “Or as soon as possible. I want to know what’s going on.”

The ghost nodded his agreement and made more of those chirping noises that Danny seemed to understand.

“Then let’s get going,” said Danny.

Jazz sighed again. “Hold it, Danny. Jason, you and I should go get changed. There’s a reason it’s called the Far Frozen.”

Jason took her advice and dug deep in his closet for the heaviest winter gear. Before too long, Jazz declared them both dressed in enough layers to satisfy her. They returned to the living room.

“Do you need us to do anything?” asked Jason.

“Nah.” Danny raised his hand and made a slashing motion with his fist. “That’s all it takes. There’s some benefits to being the Ghost King: my ring can open portals anywhere.”

Following the motion Danny had made, a tear formed in the very fabric of the universe. Though it, Jason could see a swirling sky of Lazarus green. Over his years as a vigilante, Jason had seen many strange and impossible things. But that tear unsettled him on a more visceral level than most. It reminded him of the pits, he wanted to run away. It felt like home, he wanted to run forward. Instead he stared, transfixed by the way the bit of sky—was it sky?—through the portal appeared to flow like water.

Jazz grabbed his hand and squeezed it.

Danny didn’t hesitate and flew right through, transforming as he did. The ghost followed right on his heels. Both turned to stare at him and Jazz.

“Come on,” she said. “We’ll be perfectly safe.” She walked forward and Jason followed, half a step behind.

His conflicted feelings got stronger with every step, but he kept pace with Jazz until they were through. No ground existed wherever they were, but he and Jazz were able to float in place.

Behind them, the portal disappeared. Taking with it his only hope of retreat.

-----

Next

They've made it to the Infinite Realms! And Jason still has Feelings™️ about the ghost that's following. (Do you notice he never refers to Robin, even mentally, as anything other than "the ghost"? That's a very deliberate choice.)

The strawberry topping is a thing I make semi regularly. I will sit there and eat it with a spoon it's so good. But over pancakes? Absolutely decadent. (The recipe calls it a pie filling, but eh. I'd rather just eat it with a spoon. Or over ice cream. Or pancakes.)

[lifewithdavefarts]

DaveFarts - Episode 30 “Gross The Line” [Episode List] After Dave rips a couple of his well-known huge farts on his face, Tim finds the guts to ask his gassy bro something...

POV: Tim

Gross The Line

This Friday night we had no plans (once you’re past 30, this is usually considered a win).

Both me and Dave, after a tough week of work, decided to stay at home and apparently our buds had the same idea as no one wanted to do anything. To be completely honest, Dave did have something resembling a plan for tonight: Dana, his girlfriend, was coming here for the weekend, nothing new by a long shot, but Dave still wanted to give our small house what passes for a “cleaning session”.

To be fair, both me and Dave know how to manage this sort of stuff, with Dave actually being much more organised than he seems. 

Each day of this past week, we decided to do our chores after we were done working.

Speaking of which, since I worked from home, I was simply wearing a t-shirt and sweatpants, while my roommate sported his usual dark brown hoodie and a pair of dark blue, almost grey, loose sagging jeans.

After doing the living room, the kitchen and the bathroom (on different days, nonetheless), we’re now cleaning his bedroom: we made the (king-sized) bed, sorted Dave’s wardrobe a bit, all that kind of stuff we had to do regardless of our guests anyway (and Dana was very chill anyway). 

We kind of lost rack of time, but given we started right after we finished working, it was around 6:30 PM, late-ish afternoon basically.

“We still got plenty of time.” I remarked, while folding a t-shirt.

“Yep.” Dave replied. “We could make a mess and still have time to clean up, if you know what I mean.” he winked at me, glancing at his king-sized bed.

“Well, you are pretty fast.” I made fun of him.

His response was a pair of socks harmlessly hitting my face.

“I see you’re done with those.” I sarcastically said as I picked them up.

“Yeah, the wardrobe’s pretty much done, thanks.” he said, as I handed the last t-shirt to him.

Honestly, we did a pretty good job. This wasn’t the first time we did this kind of stuff at all, but I was impressed by how fast we got things done this time.

“Let’s make this last.” I stated, admiring how clean the room was.

Dave stood next to me, arms crossed. “Yep. It smells good, even!”

“Yes it doe- I can’t believe I fell for it.”

My friend just casually ripped a monstrously loud 3 second fart, the sound easily silencing my voice. He winked at me again, with a smug smile, knowing very well that, well, I appreciated.

“Please don’t ruin everything we’ve done.” I jokingly begged him.

“Hey!” he stated, faking an assertive tone. “My bedroom, my rules.”

A moment of silence, then I heard him sniffing the air around him.

“But yeah…” he admitted, trying not to laugh. “That was terrible.”

The stench reached both of our nostrils and, believe it or not, it was bad. Yes, I have a fart kink, but some things can be too much to handle even for me, and to be honest I’m here more for the amazing loud sounds.

Dave opened the window just a bit so the bedroom won’t stink like rotten meat when Dana steps in later.

“Unless your ass has more things to say, that should be enough.” I said, looking at him and the window.

My bro shook his head in response and laughed a bit.

“Dude if you want to hear more farts you can just ask for it ya know.” He casually said as if it was the most normal thing in the world. “You know I don’t care.” he then added, as he walked past me to check his phone on the bed, again so casually it almost confused me. Was he being sarcastic or not?

A moment of silence, as I needed a moment to understand what he meant.

Again, I do have a fart kink but… I wasn’t asking for anything. Hell, even though it’s been more than a year since he found out and accepted me, I never ever even had the guts to properly ask him for, well, a “fart session”, because at this point that’s what often happens between us. We’d go days or even weeks without face-farting (even though I’d hear him farting A LOT, either to tease me or just randomly like bros do), then Dave would just straight-up “bully” me by being the most amazing and open-minded straight gassy bro in the world. 

A blessing and a curse at the same time.

“I wasn’t asking for anything.” I stated.

Dave snorted and smiled, eyes glued on the phone. “Yeah… sure.”

I admit I felt a bit… am I in the position to say ‘offended’? 

I… I don’t want him to think that he’s my bro because of, well, this kinky stuff. 

I stepped closer to him. “Again: I wasn’t asking.”

“Dude.” he looked up to me. “It’s fine. We’re good.” he laughed.

A few moments of silence, interrupted by my friend’s tapping on his phone. I didn’t like this atmosphere. Was I being an asshole? Dave was just being… so casually open-minded about my gross kink and that’s how I thank him? By thinking ill of him?

He doesn’t care… and yet some times I almost wish that he’d did.

Maybe I just like drama?

I decided to break the tension (which wasn’t even there, but anxiety took me over quickly).

“Well… what if I was asking… not that I was…” I tried to say.

Dave’s only response was just turning to me again, listening with a bored, yet amused-ish look on his face.

“I’d never ask you.” I finally said, after stuttering a bit more.

My friend shook his head again, amused by my response.

“Okay… thanks for sharing. Very interesting.” he said, sarcastically.

I took a deep breath. “I’d never ask because...”

Dave narrowed his eyes and interrupted me with the muffled sound of another loud fart, another quick thunder, lasting “only” 5 seconds. Despite having his denim, sagging ass glued to the bed, the roar could still be heard clearly. At least the stench was trapped there… for the most part.

“Good one.” I tried to joke. Then went back to being a stuttering idiot. “I’d never ask because…”

My friend interrupted me again, this time by standing up and stepping towards me, looking annoyed but still weirdly amused.

“Yes yes because you don’t want me to think that we’re bros only because you’re a kinky bastard and I just happen to be the fart king, right? Is this what you’re trying to say? Is that correct?”

I just remained silent and took a deep breath… inhaling some of the stench that used to be trapped under Dave’s ass.

“Bro I told you a million times that I don’t care.” he laughed. “I do appreciate that you don’t ask.” he admitted “But… that won’t stop me from destroying your face.” 

That… that didn’t go into the direction I thought it would.

“Sorry.” I simply said.

Dave just laughed at how… needlessly stupid I was being.

“Alright. Looks like we’re gonna make a mess after all.” 

He stared at me with a smirk. He then quickly grabbed my arms and tripped me over so I could fell on his bed.

“Bro, it’s fine, sorry I sai-“ I tried to say, actually trying not to laugh.

“Hey, my bedroom, my rules.” he remarked, stepping on the bed, easily towering over me.

He took a few steps and after I ended up with my head between his feet, he made sure to align his sagging ass with my face, so he could squat down and just use my nose as a pillow to rest his ass on.

The denim was rough and beautiful to look at, the seams and textures of his jeans tickling my face. I took a deep whiff and I could smell the stench of his previous farts. Since he was sagging, my nose also brushed against his red sweaty underwear, the only thing between my nose and his powerful anus.

After a few seconds of silence, he stopped moving and ripped a huge blast, up close and personal, down my throat. Damn, today his ass likes being louder than usual, with the blast almost making me go deaf. It was probably as loud as the previous ones, but since I was with my nose planted into the source of that fart this time, it felt way louder. 

It certainly was longer though, this one lasting about 9 seconds before stopping.

He didn’t move for a few seconds, the only reason being to give me time to, well, properly enjoy the stench, which again I did, but the sounds of Dave’s farts was the main event for me every time he blasted me. I’ll never get used to it, to all of this, to his blasts, to him being so casual and open-minded about my kink.

After a few seconds, he leaned back and spread his legs a bit, still having his ass planted on my face. He did that so he could stare down at me, at the victim of his flatulence, at what remained of my sweaty face.

He was laughing, still sporting that evil smirk.

“I knew you weren’t asking by the way.” he said, and the bastard winked at me one more time.

Before I could say something in return, most likely an insult, my head shook as he ripped yet another blast. He closed his eyes as he kept pushing, as he let his ass roar all over my face; and the fact that I could see him do that, that I could stare right into his eyes as he farted, all while my nostrils were burning, further hardened by boner. 

He sighed in relief and looked down to me one more ime after the 7 seconds blast ended. He then leaned back a bit more, now fully lying on his bed, legs up, with my face still in front of his sagging denim. 

Oddly enough, we remained like that for a couple of dozens of seconds, until my straight bro talked to me. I couldn’t see his face this time: I was too startled to talk, to process how how that was, and my eyes were glued on that smelly “wall” of sagging jeans in front of me, a “wall” that hid my friend’s face from my point of view.

“You alive, bro?” he jokingly asked.

“Sadly, yes.” my deadpan answer.

Dave laughed at my response.

“No worries, I’m brewing a big one that’s gonna kill ya for good.” 

The friendliest, yet hottest threat I ever received.

“Ready?” he then asked.

How did such a simple word become so hot to me is a mystery; but being something that Dave would often say before unleashing some of the loudest, most powerful farts I ever heard certainly didn’t help.

In hindsight, that’s not a mystery at all…

Either way, my answer to his question was another question, and I mustered all the courage I had to actually speak.

“Dave… can I ask you something?” Though it was my boner doing the talk now I’m afraid.

“Sure.” he quickly responded, surprisingly enough.

A few moments of silence, my heart racing fast. I took deep breaths, accidentally inhaling more of the polluted air around me. I was nervous, I was sweating.

“Well, if you have nothing to say, I’m just gonna let my ass speak then.” another hot threat from my bro.

“Okay wait.” I finally said. 

I still couldn’t see my friend’s face as I was resting my head in front of his ass, which covered most most of my view.

“For your next… fart…” I managed to say.

“Yes…?” he said, in a very amusing formal tone of voice.

 “Can you…” I took a deep breath. “Can you, like…”

Dave laughed at me stuttering like an idiot, but I kept going.

“Can you hold my head into your ass?”

First response: silence.

Moments of silence, moments that to me lasted hours.

I did it, I crossed the line. 

I fucked up.

I betrayed my straight bro’s trust by going too far.

He’s Dave, a straight, open-minded friend that accepted my kink and yet I couldn’t help but let my thirst take the wheel, ruining everything.

It doesn’t help that he did hold my head still into his ass as he face-farted me other times in the past, but downright asking him to do it… I’m already regretting it.

That’s too gross.

Then, I felt it.

I just felt it.

I felt his left hand grabbing my head; he raised his left leg and leaned a bit, so he could properly fulfil my request. With a firm grasp, he planted my defenceless, sweaty face straight up into his sagging, smelly denim ass, holding me still, making sure I couldn’t move.

“Wow. You are a kinky bastard after all.” He said. “Just like I’m the fart king” he snickered.

I tried to speak, but talking while your moth is constantly “kissing” your gassy friend’s ass is a bit difficult, yet Dave kind of understood what I was trying to say. He knows me, after all.

“Bro…” He pushed my head even more, my nose almost going through the red fabric of his underwear and right between his asscheeks. “The only thing you should be afraid of is getting exactly what you wish for.”

Another one of those hot threats. Is he doing that on purpose? 

A moment of silence followed… the silence before the storm.

“Ready?”

That was a rhetorical question.

The earthquake that struck my face was as loud as it was powerful. My friend’s ass roared straight into my nostrils and mouth, with Dave making sure my face was glued to his powerful anus, right where it belonged (not that I wanted to move anyway).

The deep, chainsaw-like noise shook the the whole bedroom, and for a moment I thought of the stench that basically ruined all of our hard work of cleaning things up, but my bro cared even less than me about that, as his ass kept screaming at my face, my nose gently brushing between his denim and his underwear. 

My nostrils were burning, my eyes got wet.

On paper, this was nothing new for me: Dave farts in my face very often, even holding my head still like he’s doing now. However… the fact that he did it because I found the guts to ask for it made pre-cum erupt from the tip of my cock (I guess I’m the fast one then) which at this point I assume my bro knows about.

Even though I had my entire face glued to his denim ass, I still managed to get a good look of it and as my face kept getting blasted, I once again realized how lucky I was to have a friend like him. 

Dave had it all: he’s smart, he’s tall, good-looking, funny and, as he put it a few moments ago, he casually happens to be the fart king, and the fact that I have the… I’d say the privilege to get constantly face-farted by him, to admire his ass this up close and personal, was more than I could’ve ever hoped for.

That good-looking guy you saw across the street? Well, he’s actually my bro… and he’s farting in my face.

12 seconds and the fart finally started to lose some of its power. He could rip longer farts than this, natural and/or on command (this time it was all natural, like 99% of the times), which was already impressively long, but given the context this was probably the hottest one he ever ripped all over my face.

After he was done, he simply let me go, or rather, let my head fall as I was completely stunned by what just hit me. I admired that sagging denim ass in front of me a bit more, still engulfed by an invisible cloud of gas.

“Anything else you wanna ask?” he joked, teasing me on purpose.

“Maybe I’ll just ask you to stop.” I played along, though I was being serious.

“Good choice” Dave said, a quick, loud 2-seconds fart following his response.

I managed to stand up, fighting the urge to plant my face into his ass again to properly enjoy that last rip. 

I was feeling all dizzy for all the gas and, well, the massive boner I had.

Dave remained on the bed, sitting, as if nothing gross and kinky happened, reaching for his phone again to check some messages.

The bedroom, no gentle way to put this, smelt like ass because of my friend’s massive farts.

“Welp, much like you, Dana’s coming.” Dave casually commented, eyes on his phone.

“You do realize that this room smells like ass, right?” I told him, ignoring the insult.

“Hey. Not my fault. You asked for it, not me.” he said, with a smirk.

Once again, he proved to me that he just doesn’t care. 

I’m gross and disgusting and while my bro is very aware of the kink… the idea of torturing me is just weirdly amusing to him.

I don’t know why, but that’s how it works.

His bedroom, his rules after all.

The End

[axcel-lucci]

Fishman!Law X human!reader

A/n: so apparently fishes lay eggs... ehem... also, I tried my best :P

Tw: smut. Dirty... dirty smut.

My masterlist

(Y/n) and Law have been together for a long time now, Perhaps 2 years tops? Even she wasn't sure.

Law had saved her from nearly drowning one time, when she was thrown off the ship by her own fellow crewmembers.

He brought her to his home, which was just an underwater cave that had looped around to a big massive dome with a pond in the middle, how does it work? (y/n) and Law questions to this day.

"Hmm... law" she called as they had entered his home once more

"Yeah...?" Law hummed as he placed her down so she can change from her wet swimsuit to some dry clothes she keeps in there.

His eyes were gold with inky black surrounding it, his arms had scales but he had the ability to make them blend into his skin as he was drying off, his four arms looked so delicious with his muscled chest making her stare a bit before snapping back

"I was wondering, I researched some things about this and that."

"This and that?" He raised a brow at this and looked at her while she looked at him with a tilted head. 'fuck-- she looks so damn cute-' he thought to himself but played it cool

"Yeah. You know, about fishmen? I wonder if... fish and fishmen are the same? I mean... they are both fishes, one is just... human like?" She asked herself the last part

"And what did you discover?" He turned to now look at her fully as he was dried up

She hesitated for a bit before shrugging, "that fish lay eggs" she said before stepping over to him and look him in the eyes with pure fascination, "can you lay eggs?"

Law was beyond embarrassed and ashamed at this point.

Yes, fishmen do indeed lay eggs, after all, they're just evolved versions of fish so that's not really something that should change.

He cleared his throat, "i-i mean... we do but... it's weird to explain, so bare with me"

She got all excited and nodded before he motioned for them to sit down at his big soft bed

"We can lay eggs, but... the eggs usually form in the female's body. Though... some types of fish can lay eggs without any other DNA in it... I'm still researching how that is even possible."

"Oh..." she hummed, mesmerized, "so... you can't lay eggs?"

Law debated whether to be truthful or not, eventually he settled to be truthful. He sighed deeply, "my... bloodline can lay eggs without... you know..." he blushed intensely

"I see" she nods with a smile, "but how does that feel though? Like... do you produce eggs while cu-"

"Shut--!" He cuts her off with a hand on her mouth and him blushing furiously

She giggled, "I understand Law." She smiled before kissing his cheek, "do you mind if I use your desk for a bit? I need to finish my homework..." she cried

"Oh that's right, you decided to go back to college, right?"

"Yep...! I want to provide for myself not by stealing or fighting, I want honest money." She said excitedly

"Sure, go ahead." He smiled softly before pressing a kiss against her lips, "just make sure to clean up right after."

"Thanks Law...!"

Later...

"(Y/n)" he called as she hummed from the desk, "I've been thinking... I want to live with you." He states making her pause

"What...?"

"I want to live with you, I want to be with you, not just periodically. I want to move in with you, now that you're back to school, you need someone to take care of you." He states as she paused her studying all together to get up and sit down next to him on the bed

"Are you sure? What about... this? Your home? Aren't you gonna miss it? It's not like you can carry stuff in and out of here" she mumbled

"I can visit from time to time I suppose" he nods, "I can figure it out. Don't worry"

"If you say so..." she smiled and kissed him deeply

He smiled as well before reciprocating the kiss which eventually lead to one thing and the other, the two eventually making out heavily on the bed while slowly shedding off clothes.

Law only had a few articles of clothing making him growl and basically tearing her clothes off of her

"L-law...!" She gasped and covered herself in embarrassment

"Hey now. Don't be shy" he pouted before taking her hands and placing them over her head, leaving him with three free hands that started exploring making her gasp and whine at every whim.

"Those were my favourite pajamas...!" She huffed with a pout

"I can buy you another" he smirked.

Truth be told, despite being a fishman, he's a high paying doctor with a reasonable time. (Which itself was quite rare to begin with)

She just pouted even more making him chuckle and kiss her

She then gasped once more when he pulled her legs away and his other hand play with the wet flower that bloomed in between

"Mmh... I haven't done anything yet and you're already wet... this is our first time, no?" He asks before kissing her again and pushing his fingers inside.

She moaned and threw her head back, Law physically grinned darkly before biting and sucking on her skin as a way to mark what's his, which was all of her

"L-law...!" She whined as her back arched when his fingers brushed against the spot inside her

"Oh... here?" He smirked before playing with the spot making her see stars and eventually come undone with shaky legs and gasping for air. As well as being dazed enough to not realize his hold on her was disappearing for him to take off his own clothes.

"S-so big..." she muttered once she grounded herself when she saw his member, "would that... fit?"

"We can always make it fit" he smirked as his hand then trapped her wrists together over her head once more and his other two hands secure her legs over his shoulders and eventually holding unto her hips.

His remaining free hand took hold of his own member and rubbed it against her wet entrance teasingly making her whine, begging for him to continue

"Alright..." he smirked before starting to push himself inside.

The sheer size of him made her walls stretch unforgivingly as she gasped and moan at how hot it suddenly felt

"L-law...! A-ah... wait..." she gasped once he's fully inside, "s-so big..."

"So tight" he groaned with a chuckle as his free hand from before gripped her thighs and started to grind against her and bite his own lip

"Law-" she gasped before starting to moan and whine

"You're ready" he muttered before gripping her hips rather tightly and raising them to a comfortable position only for him to mercilessly start to pound and abuse her cunt in the most pleasurable way possible.

Causing her to toss and turn in her position while gasping, moaning, and even whining for him to go faster despite his already rough pace

"Faster? Heh... why not." He smirked before adjusting their position swiftly and fulfilled her request by going in and out of her poor sorry cunt as fast and as roughly as he could

It didn't take long for (y/n) to come around him once the tip of his own dick started pressing against her cervix with immense pleasure.

With her coming around him, it just fueled him more as she gripped him rather tightly, sucking him back in as it grew slippery around him, letting him go in and out as much as he wanted.

He could feel his own release coming and his dick feeling heavier and heavier with his eggs.

(Y/n) could already feel the outline of his eggs inside his dick, ready to burst

"W-wait law" she gasped, "I don't think-"

"Shh..." he leaned down to her ear and bite it rather harshly, "just keep moaning like the pretty human that you are."

She gasped and moaned as she felt another climax build up inside her and suddenly release.

Law couldn't take the heaviness anymore and just shoved himself deep inside and release all the eggs stored in his body along with his warm cum.

(Y/n) moaned loudly at the feeling of the eggs filling her up, some of it even pressed rather dangerously against her cervix, one move and the eggs would directly go inside it.

By now there was a bulge by her lower abdomen and the eggs kept coming making her moan and beg law to put it somewhere else

"What a GREAT idea" he grinned darkly before pulling her hips so that he could press deeper inside her and his tip basically pressing against the cervix, the eggs started to enter her deeper inside making her gasp and moan even more

"L-law...! Not in there- I won't be able to- ahh-!" She moaned loudly as her legs shook violently, her insides was now probably filled with his eggs and she doesn't know how to take them out.

It just formed a lumpy bulge on her abdomen making her pant heavily and moan even more until the very last one of his egg slipped past her cervix and deep inside her womb.

"L-law..." she moaned once he slowly pulled out and a few eggs were already starting to spill out but he only put them back and prevented any of them to get out.

"Shh... it feels so good, Huh?" He bit his lower lip once she started squirming and the eggs moving inside her rather deliciously.

"L-law... please... how-" she gasped once law plugged that hole up with some device most fishmen use on their partners so the eggs don't escape.

"I said shh" he rolled his eyes and laid down beside her, he felt her legs immediately close and tighten before rubbing against each other, "hey now. Don't tell me you're getting off of our babies being inside you, Huh?"

"B-but law..." she looked at him with such cute eyes but he already saw those eyes a million times before and not be affected by it

"This calls for some punishment" he chuckled before flipping her over so that her chest was against the bed, his hands once again trapped her in place before thrusting inside her unprepared ass making her scream in pleasure.

"L-law...! You're not planning to-"

"I so am" he smirked before starting to thrust more harsher than before.

Her whines and moans, coupled with her begging for more, despite complaining about what's inside her womb being rubbed against her.

"I'm close" Law chuckled making her moan, "law... please."

Her voice was hoarse at this point. And just like before, his dick grew heavy until he can't take it anymore and spill his eggs inside her now wet anus as she moaned with tears in her eyes.

It felt so much more erotic, being filled with eggs on both sides as he plugs the holes up tightly, not letting any of the eggs escape

"There. We can just clear them tomorrow" he chuckled before laying down beside her spent form, a now large buldge on her abdomen as he softly strokes it's lumpy surface, "you know... I don't mind you giving birth to my children" he hummed at the idea

"Law!"

"Just kidding, don't worry. We can take them out safely tomorrow, even the ones inside your ass and those that were pushed through your cervix." He smirked at the mental image of (y/n) being so full of his eggs they start to slip out themselves.

She grumbled before eventually drifting off to sleep while Law watches intently and kissing her cheek.

"I don't think I'll be able to control myself tomorrow..." he chuckled to himself.

He eventually drifts off as well with a hand on her abdomen.