#him keeping his joy and brightness is what makes him so interesting to me

[snikidoodles]

aang is such a good protagonist, and obviously upbeat character + sad backstory isn’t a new archetype whatsoever but to have a pacifist main character — one who fights for his values and beliefs to be taken seriously, especially in the midst of a war he's expected to end — is just so intriguing. aang's character arc within atla is one of my favourites, actually! it's less dramatic than, say, zuko's or katara's, but watching him go from a silly kid running from his responsibilities to someone who maintains his optimism and kindness while embracing his commitments as the avatar is very endearing :)

[satellite-evans]

Little Miracle

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x reader

Summary: Y/N and Benedict face unexpected challenges during a family gathering.

Word count: 2.3k

Warnings: tiny angst, fluff, reader falls down the stairs.

A/N:

English is not my first language, so I apologize if I made any (grammar) mistakes. Feedback, requests, recommendations, vents or questions are always welcome. I love talking to you guys about anything <3

Happy reading xxx

I do NOT give permission for my work to be translated or reposted on here or any other site.

The ballroom at Aubrey Hall was alive with the sounds of laughter and music as the Bridgerton family hosted yet another grand gathering. Guests twirled around the dance floor, the atmosphere vibrant with joy. Y/N Bridgerton, glowing with the radiance of pregnancy, stood near the grand staircase, her hand resting protectively on her slightly rounded belly. She was engaged in a lighthearted conversation with Penelope and Eloise, who were both delightedly fussing over her.

“You look positively radiant,” Penelope said, her eyes sparkling. “Marriage and being with child certainly agrees with you.”

Eloise grinned. “Not to mention, you have an excuse to sit and rest while the rest of us run around.”

Y/N laughed softly. “I do enjoy the attention, I must admit. But tell me, Penelope, how have you been?”

Penelope smiled warmly. “Life has been wonderful. Colin is as adventurous as ever, always whisking me away to some new place. But seeing you like this makes me wonder about the future.”

Y/N placed her hand over her belly, feeling a flutter of excitement. “I can’t wait for our child to arrive. Benedict and I are so excited.”

Eloise rolled her eyes playfully. “Well, I’m just glad you’re happy. Although I’m still not sure about this whole marriage and babies thing. My books are just far more interesting than every encounter I had with a man.”

“You’ll find your own path, Eloise,” Y/N said with a smile. “And when you do, it will be perfect for you.”

Benedict Bridgerton was mingling with guests across the room, keeping a watchful eye on his wife. His heart swelled with love every time he saw her smile. Benedict planned to whisk her away to a quiet corner of the garden for a few moments of peace amidst the festivities. He could hardly wait to tell her about the little swing he had built for their future child, nestled under the old oak tree. He turned to Anthony and Colin, who were discussing estate matters near the punch table. As soon as he saw Benedict's expression, Anthony excused himself and joined his brother, with Colin following closely.

“You look like a man on top of the world,” Anthony remarked with a knowing grin.

“I am,” Benedict admitted, his eyes bright. “I can’t stop thinking about what it will be like to hold our baby, to see Y/N as a mother. It feels like a dream.”

Colin chuckled. “Our brother, a father. Who would have thought?”

“I always knew he had it in him,” Anthony teased. “Even if he does look like he’s about to faint every time he thinks about his wife giving birth.”

Benedict laughed. “I’ll manage, somehow. Though I’m sure you’ll both have plenty of teasing to do.”

Anthony grinned. “We wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

“Speaking of which,” Colin added, “do you have any names in mind yet?”

“We’ve been thinking,” Benedict said, his face lighting up. “But we haven’t settled on anything yet. We want it to be perfect.”

Anthony patted his brother on the back. “Whatever name you choose, it will be perfect because it will be yours.”

Benedict’s smile widened. “Thank you, both of you. I’m just so excited.”

Back at the staircase, Y/N continued chatting with Penelope and Eloise.

"Have you thought of any names yet?" Eloise asked, echoing Colin's question.

“We’ve been thinking about a few,” Y/N replied, her eyes sparkling. “If it’s a boy, maybe Charles, after my father. And if it’s a girl—”

Suddenly, a commotion broke out near the entrance. A servant, rushing to fetch more refreshments, tripped on the hem of a guest’s dress and stumbled forward, knocking into Y/N.

Time seemed to slow as Y/N lost her balance, her arms flailing in a desperate attempt to steady herself. Penelope and Eloise reached out to catch her.

“Y/N!” Penelope screamed, her voice filled with panic.

“Someone help!” Eloise shouted, her eyes wide with terror.

But it was too late. Y/N tumbled down several steps before coming to a painful stop at the bottom. Gasps filled the room, and the music halted abruptly. Y/N felt a sharp pain shoot through her abdomen and a wave of fear washed over her. She tried to move, but the pain was too intense.

Benedict’s heart stopped, his breath catching in his throat as he sprinted toward his wife. The guests parted, creating a clear path for him as he fell to his knees beside her.

“Y/N!” Benedict’s voice was raw with panic. “Please, someone get a doctor!”

Penelope and Eloise knelt beside her, their faces pale with worry. “Y/N, are you alright?” Eloise asked, her voice trembling.

Y/N’s eyes fluttered open, her face contorted in pain. “Benedict...” she whispered, her voice weak. “The baby...”

“Shh, don’t speak,” he said, tears streaming down his face. “Help is coming.”

Lady Danbury, always composed even in the face of crisis, took charge. “Everyone, give them space! Anthony, fetch the doctor immediately!”

Anthony snapped into action, his usual commanding presence even more pronounced. “Colin, stay with them. I’ll be back with the doctor as quickly as possible.”

Colin nodded, his face pale but determined. He knelt beside Benedict, placing a comforting hand on his brother’s shoulder. “She’s strong, Benedict. She’ll pull through this.”

Benedict barely registered his words, his focus entirely on Y/N. “Just stay with me, love. Help is on the way.”

Anthony pushed through the crowd, his voice cutting through the murmurs of concern. “Make way, please! It’s urgent!”

Within moments, Anthony returned with the doctor, a sense of urgency in his movements. Violet Bridgerton appeared soon after, her face etched with worry but her demeanor composed.

“Y/N, darling, you’re going to be alright,” Violet said softly, her voice soothing. She took Y/N’s hand, offering her strength and comfort.

The doctor’s examination was thorough but gentle. Benedict watched, his heart pounding, as the physician examined Y/N with care.

“She needs to be moved to a bed immediately,” the doctor instructed. “We must be cautious.”

Anthony and Colin helped carry Y/N to the nearest bedroom, Benedict never leaving her side. His mind raced with a thousand fears, each one more terrifying than the last. He couldn’t lose her. He couldn’t lose their child.

As they laid her gently on the bed, Violet stayed close, her presence a source of strength for both Y/N and Benedict.

“Benedict...” Y/N whispered, her voice trembling. “I’m so scared.”

“I know, my love,” Benedict said, his voice choked with emotion. “But you’re strong, and our baby is strong. We’ll get through this together.”

Y/N’s eyes filled with tears. “What if something happens to the baby?”

“Don’t think like that,” Violet interjected gently. “Focus on staying calm and resting. The doctor is here, and we’ll do everything we can to keep you both safe.”

The doctor’s examination was thorough but gentle. After what felt like an eternity, he looked up, his expression grave but hopeful. “She’s had a nasty fall, but there’s no immediate danger to her or the baby. However, she must rest completely to ensure a full recovery.”

Benedict released a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. Relief mingled with lingering fear as he took Y/N’s hand in his, squeezing it gently. “Thank you, doctor. We will do everything you say.”

Y/N managed a faint smile, her eyes meeting Benedict’s. “I’m sorry...”

“There’s nothing to be sorry for,” Benedict said, his voice choked with emotion. “Just rest, my love. I’m here with you.”

As the doctor and the rest of the family ensured Y/N was comfortable, Colin and Anthony took turns comforting their brother.

“She’s in good hands,” Colin assured Benedict. “And you’re doing everything right.”

Anthony nodded. “Just stay by her side, brother. She needs you now more than ever.”

Days turned into weeks, and Y/N’s recovery was slow but steady. Benedict remained by her side, his love and dedication unwavering. The Bridgerton family rallied around them, their support a constant source of strength. One afternoon, as Y/N rested in bed, Benedict sat beside her, holding her hand.

“How are you feeling today?” Benedict asked softly, brushing a strand of hair from her face.

“Tired,” Y/N admitted. “And scared. I can’t help but worry about the baby.”

Benedict’s expression softened. “I know. I feel the same way. Every time I think about what could have happened...” His voice trailed off, and he took a deep breath. “But we have to stay positive. The doctor said you’re both doing well.”

Y/N nodded, tears welling in her eyes. “I just want our baby to be safe. I’m trying to stay strong, but it’s hard.”

“I understand,” Benedict said, his voice gentle. “But you are the strongest person I know. And our baby is lucky to have you as a mother.”

Y/N squeezed his hand, drawing strength from his words. “And lucky to have you as a father. I couldn’t do this without you, Benedict.”

“We’re in this together,” he assured her. “Every step of the way.”

As they spoke, Violet entered the room with a tray of tea and biscuits. “How are my two favorite people?” she asked, her smile warm and comforting.

“We’re managing,” Y/N replied, grateful for her mother-in-law’s presence.

Violet sat down beside them, her eyes filled with maternal concern. “You’re both doing wonderfully. It’s been a difficult time, but you’ve handled it with such grace and strength.”

Y/N took a deep breath, feeling the weight of her emotions. “I just want everything to be alright.”

“And it will be,” Violet said firmly. “You have a loving husband, a supportive family, and a strong spirit. You’re not alone in this.”

Benedict nodded, his eyes meeting his mother’s. “Thank you, Mother. Your support means everything to us.”

Violet reached out, placing a hand on Y/N’s shoulder. “You’re a part of this family, Y/N. We’re here for you, always.”

Y/N smiled through her tears, feeling a sense of belonging and love. “Thank you, Violet. That means so much.”

As the days passed, Y/N’s strength slowly returned. She spent her time resting and taking short walks in the garden, always accompanied by Benedict. The fear of losing their baby still lingered, but with each passing day, their hope grew stronger.

One evening, as they sat in the garden watching the sunset, Y/N felt a gentle flutter in her belly. She reached for Benedict’s hand, placing it over the spot.

“Did you feel that?” she asked, her eyes shining with wonder.

Benedict’s face lit up with joy. “Our baby,” he whispered, awe evident in his voice. “Our little miracle.”

Y/N smiled, tears of happiness spilling down her cheeks. “Yes, our little miracle.”

Benedict’s eyes were filled with emotion as he gently pulled her into his arms. They held each other tightly, their hearts beating as one. The overwhelming sense of relief and joy was almost too much to bear.

“I love you so much,” Benedict whispered, his voice choked with emotion.

“I love you too,” Y/N replied, her voice trembling.

They kissed tenderly, their lips conveying all the words their hearts couldn’t express. As they pulled back, Benedict pressed his forehead against hers, his eyes closed as he took in the moment.

“You’re amazing,” he murmured. “Both of you.”

Y/N laughed softly through her tears, her hand resting on her belly. “We’re lucky to have you.”

Benedict’s eyes sparkled with joy as he knelt down, placing a gentle kiss on Y/N’s belly. “Hello, little one,” he whispered, his voice filled with love. “You gave us quite a scare, but we’re so happy you’re okay. We can’t wait to meet you.”

Y/N’s heart swelled with love as she watched him. “Benedict, thank you for being so wonderful. Our child is going to be so lucky to have you as a father.”

He looked up at her, his eyes shining with tears. “And lucky to have you as a mother. We’re going to be the best parents we can be.”

Y/N nodded, feeling a deep sense of peace. “Yes, we are.”

Benedict stood, taking her hand in his. “There’s something I want to show you,” he said, his smile widening.

Curious, Y/N allowed him to lead her through the garden. They walked slowly, savoring the warm evening air and the sense of calm that had settled over them. As they approached the old oak tree, Y/N’s eyes widened in surprise.

Beneath the tree, Benedict had crafted a beautiful swing, its wooden seat polished to perfection and adorned with soft cushions. The swing hung from sturdy ropes, gently swaying in the breeze.

“Benedict, did you make this?” Y/N asked, her voice filled with awe.

He nodded, his smile proud. “I did. I wanted to create something special for our child. A place where they can play and dream, just like we did when we were children.”

Y/N’s eyes filled with tears again, but this time, they were tears of pure joy. “It’s perfect,” she said, her voice trembling. “Thank you.”

Benedict wrapped his arms around her, holding her close. “We’re going to make so many wonderful memories here,” he whispered, his lips brushing against her ear. “I can’t wait to see our child swinging and laughing under this tree.”

Y/N leaned into his embrace, feeling the warmth of his love envelop her. “Me too,” she said softly. “Thank you for everything, Benedict. For your love, your strength, and for always being here with me.”

He kissed her gently, his lips lingering on hers. “I will always be here for you, Y/N. Always.”

As they stood together under the old oak tree, their hearts intertwined, they felt a profound sense of hope and happiness. The future was bright, filled with the promise of new beginnings and the enduring love of adding a member to their growing family, their little miracle.

[lufyuu]

,, One more picture ''

Idol! male reader x Photographer OC

Tw/s: quite vanilla, not sure to put any. Reader goes from being dominant to submissive.

Not too long ago, you were asked to be an ambassador of Louis Vuitton. The moment Louis Vuitton had announced you became an ambassador of their brand, your fans, and group members were so excited, it went all over the news globally. You flew all the way to Paris for a photoshoot. They would have you model for them wearing their bags, jewelries, etc while also attending events wearing them. The moment you stepped out of the car, you were swarmed with fans, they were all trying to get your attention. Whether that'd be by screaming your name or having their hands out with gifts for you. Fortunately, you had very good security guards, they managed to keep the fans from touching you or getting too close. The first day you were seen wearing the outfit Louis Vuitton had provided you with, it sold out in the matter of hours.

Due to this opportunity, you had many scheduled photoshoots for Louis Vuitton. The first thing that caught your eye was Eun Hyunwoo. Eun Hyunwoo was the photographer in your first photoshoot. He was absolutely breathtaking. He had the kind of look that would make people turn around to stare. A kind of look that belonged to the museum. It was both gentle and dashing. It was such a shame he didn't want to be an idol or anything like an idol. He finds photography to be much more interesting. He finds joy in taking pictures. "Photography captures life's beauty" is his reason to want to pursue it.

You found him to be quite an interesting man. A life of fame and money stared at him all day long and yet he never even once looked its way. The more you saw him, the more you saw his charms. It wasn't just his looks that charmed you. It was the way he would talk, describe things. "[Name]-nim, I will never be able to describe you in a word...", was what he said when you told him to. He said he's not good with describing people, especially you. That made your heart flutter. It felt as if butterflies were eating you from the inside out. Eventually, you even developed sexual thoughts about him at work. When you'd be backstage and have random thoughts of being fucked by him. Something about a gentle man being rough with you made your legs turn into jelly. You'd have to excuse yourself to the bathroom because of these thought. This man had you going crazy.

Click Click Click, the sound of a camera clicking accompanied by bright light aimed at you. "That shot was gorgeous as always," the photographer commented. The staff all agreed with him, "as expected from [Name]," they would say. Others only nodded in agreement. "Thank you, everyone, for your hard work!"you said, bowing to everyone in the room as a sign of respect as a few people removed the props. The photographer looked through the camera roll, the pictures he had captured of you were flawless, you looked elegant, your aura radiating through the small screen. Just as he was admiring your beauty, you approach him. "Eun Hyunwoo-shi," you tap his hand, which startles him a bit. "Ah..! [Name]-nim, what's the matter?"He looks a bit down to face you. Though he doesn't really make eye contact, how could he when you're quite literally the number one most sought out idol at the moment? He didn't feel worthy. "Could you perhaps send those pictures to me? I want to take a look", a smile spreads across your face, a gentle smile that convinces him even if he's been told not to. "Oh.. Of course, should I send it through your work email?", he scrambles to find his phone, which is in his right pocket. You shake your head, indicating he's wrong about that assumption. You stretch out your right hand to take the phone, and he hesitantly gives it to you. You typed out your number on his phone, "Just text me them here." He takes back his phone as you walk away, looking down at his phone and then looking back to the direction you were walking towards until your figure disappears behind the door. His face turned a bit red as the other staff members asked him to help with dismantling the set.

After an hour, you finally returned back to your hotel. Your phone lights up with a ding!, it was the「Lum¡n☆ry」group chat.

➤Woohoooo: @[Name] we miss uuuuu

➤4Sp☆rks: Are you done with the photoshoot?

➤Cho_Sangwoo: You guys are disturbing him. He's probably still at the photoshoot.

Looking at the group chat, you couldn't help but let a smile spread across your face. Texting them back quickly, you informed them that you're now at the hotel. Though, no matter how much you had been distracted, a certain person was at the back of your mind. A man with short and messy black hair. The way his soft blue eyes looked at you was unforgettable. Your heart thumped at the thought of him, the thought of being on your knees, unzipping his.. ding! a sudden ding snapped you out of it. You went to open the dm, it was from an unknown number.

➤+82 XX XXXX YYYY: [photo] +10 more

They were your photoshoot photos. You immediately connected the dots and realized it's not a random stalker. It's Eun Hyunwoo. Taking a good look at the pictures, they are definitely breathtaking, but you spot something. The third picture he had sent was odd. The angle was wrong. As the professional man you are, you point it out.

➤+82 XX XXXX YYYY:

-Ah...

-I'm sorry for the trouble [Name]-nim, should we retake the picture?

You thought of it for a moment, it sure would be an inconvenience for you. It'd totally mess up your schedule, too. Plus, there's other pictures to make up for it. You'll only be missing a singular picture, what harm could that do? Honestly, it would be better for everyone, including yourself, if you just said no.

➤You: Sure!

You sure are thinking with your dick right now.

➤You: Are you still at the photoshoot place? I can go there right away while I still have my outfit and make up on

➤+82 XX XXXX YYYY: I'm not sure if that's a good idea, [Name]-nim...The other staff members have already gone home, it'd be a complete mess, wouldn't it?

➤You: We can make it work. Besides, you're the best photographer I know

➤+82 XX XXXX YYYY: If you say so [Name]-nim, I'll be waiting.

And with that confirmation, you got up from the sofa, grabbing your bag and sprinting to the place. Not literally of course, you took a taxi there.

When you get to the place, the lights are almost all off. There's a person waving at you with a camera around their neck. "[Name]-nim!", as you get closer, you see a gentle smile on his face. "Eun Hyunwoo-shi," you said his name in return, "let's get back in now", you put your hand behind his back, urging him back in. Eun Hyunwoo turns on all the switches, revealing the already tidied up room. The lights were moved to one side while the decorations were put in a box. "Shall we set it up once more?", he asks, looking at you and expecting you to nod or say yes. "No, let's take a photo right here, it'll turn out great," he seemed very skeptical. The area you are in at the moment is quite dark. Of course, it could turn out artistic, but considering your other pictures, it wouldn't fit at all. "[Name]-nim, I don't think that's a good-", "come here!", you pull his hand to the area, making sure he won't be able to disagree further. Without a word, you push yourself up on the table, sitting on it with your legs crossed, posing for the camera. He gets the message and puts the camera up to his eye, aiming it at you.

Click click , you get off the table and look at the pictures on the small screen. "Hm...these won't do," "o-oh, why's that..?", he asks, looking at you as if expecting you to say his camera work is terrible. "Oh, it's not you, I think I know what's missing here," you go back to your position and beckon him to come closer. He complies, wondering if you knew how to make the pictures better. You then grab his tie, his head is now leaned down to face you, "[Name]-nim...?-", you look up at him, wanting him to get the message, "Hyunwoo shi..."he gulped, his face visibly red, especially his ears. His eyes widened a bit, now knowing what you want him to do. Immediately, he leans down to meet your lips, putting his camera beside you, grabbing your chin, and kissing you deeply. "Mmm..ah..", he moans into the kiss. It's obvious he hasn't done much kissing in his life before. The two of you finally let go after a while. The kiss was intense.

Looking at his hard cock straining in his pants, you hop off the table, getting on your knees infront of him, infront of his boner. You unzip his pants using your teeth, you could hear his breath hitch. Even through the boxer, his pre-cum was already leaking through. "All it took was a kiss for you to get hard?", you tease him, "w-well I-I...!", he couldn't make up an excuse for himself, he did get super worked up from a single kiss. "You're really adorable", before he could answer, you took out his cock out of it's restraints, "holy shit..", your eyes widened at the sight. His cock was long and girthy, "Hyunwoo-shi...I didn't expect you to have such a big thing down here", "is it really that big...?", he looks with his face being covered partly by his hand due to the embarrassment. You took his cock in your hand, you couldn't even wrap your hand around it, "mmm, very", was what you said before putting the tip into your mouth, licking and sucking on it. "[Name]-nim..!-", you released his cock from your mouth, "it's [Name], no need for formalities", he coughs and corrects himself, "[Name]...It's dirty down there", you chuckle at this response and continue to suck on his tip, "a-ah..", he tries to keep in his moans but with you sucking him like that, how could he do it for long? His moans were muffled by his hand, you aren't satisfied with this, why would he contain his moans?

You took his cock in deeper, now half of his length is in your mouth. "A-ah...agh...!", he finally lets his moans out, no longer covering his mouth with his hand. You smile, "eunjwoin thwis?", you try to say while his cock is reaching your throat, the vibrations from your mouth making him even weaker. He could only nod weakly in response.

Sounds of sucking accompanied by Eun Hyunwoo's moans were music to your ears. Unconsciously, due to pleasure, he grabs your face and pushes you down on his cock, taking it even further in, you begin to choke on his length, trying to adjust as best you can. Eun Hyunwoo then proceeds to grab the camera on the table with his other hand, pointing it down at you yet again, "you look so pretty...", he mumbles, taking a picture of you sucking him so good. Click

His face is practically as red as it can be by this point, he would never admit it but you've always had an effect on him, everytime he looks at you, he feels butterflies in his stomach, flying around. The way your lips wrap around his cock makes him even hornier, grabbing your hair and face-fucking you. His cock goes all the way to your throat. You try and contain your tears but they ultimately come out, your eyes glossy, looking up at his lustful face. The once gentle look on his face is now gone. He only has lust in those eyes. He continues to facefuck you, making sure it hits the back of your throat everytime. The pleasure he felt was unreal. "God...[Name], your mouth's so warm..", he praises. You wanted him to cum and so you sucked him more but, he suddenly pulls you off of his still hard cock leaking with pre-cum. You look up at him with a confused and disappointed look on your face. Before you could protest, he lifts you up onto the table, letting you sit up. He pulls down your pants and boxers, discarding them to the side.

Without any lube, he was hesitant to continue but with a little reassurance, he went on with what he wanted to do all along. He uses spit as a substitute for lube, "bare with me here...", he says as he pushes himself into you. Taking it slow. The last thing he wants is for you to get hurt, you're too precious to him.

You were trying to adjust to his size when he suddenly asked for forgiveness, "[Name]...I'm sorry but I can't handle it anymore..", it looked as if he was a beast, ready to ravage his prey. Then, he pushes all the way into you, making you take all of him. This makes your back arch from the sudden plunge. His cock is definitely too big for your little hole. Tears were now rolling down your cheeks, you couldn't help it from falling. "Please don't cry...", he says while wiping your tears away with his finger. The feeling of his cock inside of you unmoving was torturing, you wanted him to move. He lets out a surprised yelp as you start moving. "Move...goddamnit", you said with an almost begging tone, leaving him no choice but to grab your hips and thrust his cock in and out of you. He would pull out until only his tip was in before thrusting it all back into you.

All you could do was moan and mumble incoherent sentences. "You're so adorable like this, [Name]", he says while you're in that state. Anything and everything you do is adorable to him. You could feel yourself getting close too. When you looked down, there was a visible bulge on your lower stomach. "I'm so close..!", he says while still thrusting in and out of you like there's no tomorrow. You could feel yourself reaching your limit aswell. "Aagh..!", you let out a moan as you reach your climax, your cum splurting all over your lower body. But your photographer had not yet reached his. He desperately chased his climax, thrusting harsher and rougher until more tears ran down your cheeks. "I'm...cumming..! Take all of my cum", he finally cums into you. It felt like a decade as he released all of it inside you. His cum was dripping out your hole even with his cock still inside.

With such an adorable and tired expression on your face, Eun Hyunwoo couldn't help but reach over for his camera. He aimed the camera at your cum-filled and panting figure, making sure the camera captured his cock deep inside you, "you're so perfect like this, such a slut for my cock", he said shamelessly which was unexpected, it made you shudder a little. Being with you awakened something in him that he never knew he had. He went to caress your cheek with his free hand, smiling softly at you as he says, "[Name]-nim, I want to take more pictures of you..."

♡♡♡

Hello everyone, this is the first fic I'm writing for this blog. It's not really good but I promise to improve♡

Borders by : @/cafekitsune

[its-avalon-08]

omg i’m so happy to know i made ur day <3 also can i request something??

lando, oscar or logan; he pretends to forget her birthday or something like that so she spends the whole day upset but then he surprises her with something really cute at the end of it??

confetti and cake (op81)

✦ pairing - oscar piastri x female!reader

✦ genre - angst, tears, alot of fluff, oscar is the cutest

Y/N woke up with a flutter of excitement, her birthday finally here. She turned over in bed, expecting to see Oscar with a bright smile and a "Happy Birthday!" ready. Instead, he was already up, looking through his phone.

“Morning, Oscar,” she greeted, her voice full of hope.

“Morning, Y/N,” he replied without looking up.

She bit her lip, feeling a slight pang of disappointment. Maybe he had something special planned later. She got out of bed and went to the kitchen to make breakfast, half-expecting him to follow and surprise her. But Oscar stayed in the bedroom.

After breakfast, Oscar emerged, dressed casually. “Hey, I was thinking about heading out with Lando and Max for a bit. They wanted to catch up. You okay with that?”

Y/N blinked, taken aback. “Today? You’re going out today?”

“Yeah, why not? We haven’t hung out in a while.”

She tried to keep her voice steady. “Right, of course.”

Oscar noticed her tone but kept his face neutral. “You sure you’re okay with it?”

“Yeah, totally fine,” Y/N replied, turning away to hide her hurt expression. “Go have fun.”

Oscar nodded, grabbing his keys. “I won’t be long. We can do something together later, maybe.”

“Sure,” she muttered, the lump in her throat growing.

As he left, Y/N couldn’t help but feel a mix of anger and sadness. She spent the morning cleaning up the apartment, hoping the busywork would distract her. When Oscar finally returned in the afternoon, she was on the couch, scrolling through her phone with a forced calm.

“Hey, I’m back,” he announced.

“Great,” she replied without looking up.

He sat beside her, sensing her cold demeanor. “Did you do anything interesting today?”

“Nope, just the usual,” she said, her tone clipped.

Oscar tried to engage her in conversation, but she responded with short, uninterested answers. Finally, he sighed. “Y/N, are you mad at me?”

“Why would I be mad?” she snapped, unable to hold back any longer. “It’s not like today’s important or anything.”

“Come on, what’s going on?” he pressed.

“You really don’t know?” She stood up, glaring at him. “It’s my birthday, Oscar! How could you forget?”

Oscar feigned surprise. “Oh, wow, I… I had no idea.”

Y/N’s eyes filled with tears. “I can’t believe you, Oscar. I thought you cared.”

He tried to reach for her, but she pulled away. “Y/N, wait…”

“No, Oscar,” she said, her voice breaking. “You’ve made it clear how much you care. I’m going out.”

She grabbed her bag and stormed out of the apartment, leaving Oscar standing there, feeling a mix of guilt and anticipation. He watched her leave, knowing she would be back soon for the surprise he had planned.

time skip

Y/N walked around the neighborhood, trying to calm down. She couldn’t believe Oscar had forgotten her birthday. After an hour, she decided to head back, not wanting to spend her special day alone.

When she opened the door to their apartment, she was met with an unexpected sight. The entire living room was filled with her favorite people, all smiling and cheering.

“Surprise!” they all shouted in unison.

Y/N’s eyes widened in shock. There were banners with “Happy Birthday Y/N!” strung across the walls, balloons in her favorite colors, and gifts piled high on the table. Her childhood friends were there, along with Lando, Carlos, and several other F1 drivers she had become close with over the years.

Oscar stepped forward, a wide grin on his face. “Happy birthday, Y/N!”

Y/N’s hand flew to her mouth, tears of joy welling up in her eyes. “You all… you’re all here?”

Lando walked over, handing her a brightly wrapped gift. “Of course we are! Oscar’s been planning this for weeks.”

Carlos nodded, hugging her. “We wouldn’t miss your birthday for anything.”

Y/N turned to Oscar, overwhelmed with emotion. “You did all this for me?”

Oscar smiled, taking her hands. “I’m sorry for making you think I forgot. I just wanted it to be a big surprise. You mean the world to me, Y/N, and I wanted to show you how much you’re loved.”

Y/N hugged him tightly, her heart bursting with happiness. “Thank you, Oscar. This is the best birthday ever.”

The party kicked into full swing, with laughter, music, and endless chatter. Y/N was surrounded by her friends, each one sharing stories and creating new memories. Oscar watched her from across the room, his heart swelling with pride and love.

As the evening went on, Y/N made her way back to Oscar, her face glowing with happiness. “I can’t believe you pulled this off,” she said, leaning into him.

Oscar wrapped an arm around her, kissing her temple. “Anything for you, love. You deserve the best.”

She smiled up at him, eyes sparkling. “I don’t know how to thank you.”

“You already have,” he replied softly, holding her close. “Just seeing you happy is all I need.”

Y/N kissed him, feeling truly cherished and loved. She couldn’t have asked for a better birthday, surrounded by her favorite people and the man who made it all happen. The night was filled with joy, laughter, and an overwhelming sense of gratitude, making it a birthday she would never forget.

time skip

As the party wound down, Y/N found herself surrounded by a mountain of gifts and heartfelt birthday wishes from all her friends. One by one, they began to leave, hugging her tightly and promising to catch up soon. Lando and Carlos were the last to go, offering her one final group hug.

“Happy birthday, Y/N,” Carlos said warmly. “We’ll see you soon.”

“Yeah, and don’t forget, we’ve got that dinner next week,” Lando added with a wink.

Y/N smiled, feeling the love from her friends. “Thank you, guys. This has been amazing.”

Once the door closed behind them, Y/N turned to Oscar, who was tidying up the living room. She walked over and hugged him from behind, resting her head on his shoulder. “I can’t believe you did all this, Oscar. It was perfect.”

Oscar turned around and kissed her forehead. “I’m glad you enjoyed it. But the night isn’t over yet. I have one more surprise for you.”

He led her to the couch, where a small box and an envelope lay waiting. Y/N sat down, her heart racing with anticipation. Oscar handed her the box first.

“Open this one,” he said, his eyes twinkling with excitement.

Y/N carefully unwrapped the box and opened it to reveal a beautiful pendant, the one she had admired when they first started dating but never got around to buying. Her eyes widened, and she looked up at him in astonishment. “Oscar, I can’t believe you remembered this.”

“Of course I did,” he said softly. “I wanted you to have something special, something that reminds you of how far we’ve come.”

Y/N felt tears welling up again as she clasped the pendant around her neck. “It’s perfect. Thank you, Oscar.”

He then handed her the envelope. “There’s one more thing.”

She opened it and found a single page torn from a journal. The handwriting was unmistakably Oscar’s. As she read the first few lines, her breath caught in her throat.

“Read it out loud,” Oscar encouraged gently.

Y/N wiped her eyes and began to read, her voice trembling. She glanced up at him, her eyes shimmering with emotion, before she began to read aloud.

“March 12th,

Today was a day I’ll never forget. I realized something that has been growing inside me for a while now, something that’s hard to put into words but feels undeniable. I’m falling in love with Y/N.

It hit me when we were sitting by the lake, just talking about everything and nothing. The way she looked at me with those bright, curious eyes, her laughter echoing in the evening air, made my heart feel fuller than it ever has. She has this incredible ability to make the mundane feel magical, to turn an ordinary moment into something extraordinary just by being herself.

I watched her, and I felt this overwhelming sense of gratitude that she’s in my life. Her smile can light up my darkest days, and her laughter is the sweetest sound I’ve ever heard. She’s kind, thoughtful, and so effortlessly beautiful, inside and out. When I’m with her, I feel like the best version of myself.

I remember the first time I saw her, thinking she was the most captivating person in the room. And now, every day, I’m discovering new reasons to love her. The way she cares for others, her passion for the things she loves, her resilience and strength—she’s everything I’ve ever wanted and more.

I can’t imagine my life without her. She’s become my anchor, my confidant, my best friend. And today, as we sat by the lake, I knew I wanted to spend forever with her. She’s the one I want to share all my moments with, the one I want to build a future with.

I love her. More than words can say.

-Oscar”

By the time Y/N finished reading, tears were streaming down her face. She looked up at Oscar, her voice trembling. “Oscar, this is… I don’t even have words. This is the most beautiful thing anyone has ever written for me.”

Oscar pulled her into his arms, holding her tightly as he whispered, “I meant every word, Y/N. I cannot live without you.”

“Oscar, this is… I don’t even have words,” she sobbed, clutching the page to her chest. “You’ve made this the most incredible birthday ever.”

He pulled her into his arms, holding her tightly. “I wanted you to know how much you mean to me, Y/N. You’re my everything.”

She looked up at him, her heart overflowing with love. “I love you so much, Oscar.”

“I love you too,” he whispered, kissing her tenderly. “Happy birthday, my love.”

They stayed there for a long moment, wrapped in each other’s arms, the world outside fading away. It was a birthday she would never forget, filled with love, surprises, and the deepest connection she had ever felt.

[chelseeebe]

everything has changed

you and steve were once the bestest of friends, cruelly torn apart when you’re forced to leave hawkins suddenly. fifteen years on, everything has changed and yet, nothing has changed.

i had this idea a while ago and then have recently become re-obsessed with the song so decided to give it a rewrite! it’s kinda giving seven x everything has changed and i love that. i have a sitcom level idea of a part two for this but i’m not sure it’ll ever come to fruition

18+. no smut but my blog is 18+ :) mostly just fluffy friends to lovers stuff hehe

‎♡‧₊˚

“you promise we’ll be friends forever?” steve asks, quirking his little eyebrows up. still so innocent, so unaware that the world was a cruel place.

“i promise!” you’d shrieked, toothy grin beaming over at him as you sat poised on the climbing frame. “we’ll write letters every week and in the summer you can come and visit!”

steve whooped with glee, the metal frame shaking from the force of his body, “okay! my mom has your mom’s number so i can call you,” grubby hands clinging onto yours.

you throw your arms around his neck, pulling him into a hug, wobbling atop of your tower. full of hope and your shared joy. oblivious to how the next 15 years would play out.

-

life hadn’t been so kind as to keep the two of you in contact. steve’s mom had tried to explain it to him, but his poor seven year old brain couldn’t quite grasp it.

it was only when he was older that he had realised what had happened.

you had been whisked away to california, your mother’s home state, far away from your dad. for your safety of course. his mother had warned him not to mention where you had gone to anyone, and he’d stuck by that.

and really, life had gotten in the way of thinking about you too much. basketball tryouts and getting girls into the back of his bmw had taken precedence over fading thoughts of freckly girls he once knew.

steve was at college now, admittedly tagging along with robin, but he was enjoying it. he played basketball, studied children’s education and had even scored himself a kinda stable girlfriend.

he’s sat in the library, book open and unread in front of him on the table as robin attempts to convince him to go out tonight.

“it’ll be fun! besides, i promised my roommate that i’d go.. y’know she’s having a hard time,” turning on the puppy dog eyes that more often than not, worked on him.

he groans, “i don’t know rob.. finals are coming up soon and i really need to get this down if i wanna graduate with you,” though he makes no effort to actually pick up the book, more interested in the coffee robin had used as a bargaining chip.

“steve,” almost warningly, “come for an hour,” nodding at him, as if to subliminally make him agree, “and then i’ll help you study all day tomorrow, okay?” tilting her head, bright green* eyes glistening at him.

“fine,” succumbing to her pleas, “but you owe me,” sending a glare across the table as he finally turns the page.

robin grins, happy she’d gotten her own way. again.

-

they walk arm in arm into the bar, squeezing through the crowd as they attempt to locate robin’s mysterious roommate.

steve sighs, whispering into robin’s ear, “why do i have to be here? just because your roommate is a lonely weirdo, doesn’t mean you have to drag me out too,” pouting like a petulant child.

she pinches his arm, causing him to yelp into her ear, “this is why i used to pray for the ceiling light to fall on your head in mrs click’s class,” pulling away from him as she spots whoever she’s looking for.

“wait.. what?” he calls out after her, weaving through the crowd to find her again.

she has her face buried into someone’s shoulder, blabbering about the busy bar and how good it was to get out.

robin pulls away, gesturing over to steve as this lucrative stranger meets his eye.

it’s you.

the little girl who had promised to be his best friend forever now stood before him, all grown up. he almost doesn’t believe it. in fact, he can’t. not until you speak, his name echoes around meaninglessly.

“what the fuck?” he gasps, still in utter shock.

“it’s really you? you’re.. oh my god, you’re steve of course you are,” wrapping your arms around his neck, pulling him in for a hug, the exact way you had fifteen years ago.

you even smell the same, a distinct sort of vanilla smell that takes his mind hurtling fifteen years into the past. he almost wants to throw up from the turbulence of it all.

“i can’t believe you’re here,” you gasp, still nuzzled into his shoulder, “this is so surreal,” now holding him at arms length, dissecting his face in the same way he was yours.

you looked the same and yet completely different. no more gappy smiles or sun bleached hair, very pretty. his seven year old self had thought so too, but your friendship had meant more.

“you two know each other?” robin perplexes, watching the scene unfold with zero context.

“we.. uh- yeah,” unsure of how much he can divulge, still under strict orders from his mom to never tell a soul where you’d gone.

“we were friends, i was born in hawkins so.. god, this is so weird,” you exasperate, letting go of his frame to talk to a bewildered robin.

“you’re from hawkins? you told me you were from california?” robins face twists in confusion.

“it’s a.. complicated story,” you look back at him, still trying to decipher if he was even real, “i moved away when i was young but we were like, best friends,” baring your teeth with your smile.

“well shit, i’ve got time,” robin laughs, sliding into the booth, she looks up at steve, “drinks on you.. you know, to celebrate,” wiggling her brows in that irritating way she did when she wanted something.

he dutifully obliges as you begin your story, he supposes that now you probably can.

your dad had moved out of hawkins a while ago, it wasn’t exactly a secret as to why you guys had just up and left so abruptly. steve had always hated him, made sure to glare daggers into his back when he and his mother would pass him in the street or in melvalds. he felt he owed you that.

plus steve was angry, angry that you’d had to leave him behind because of your dad. his tiny mind couldn’t comprehend that it was for the better, only understanding that it was your dad’s fault his best friend had been taken from him.

steve’s curious about california, how your life differed from hawkins. you play it off as nothing special but you smile differently when you speak of afternoons after school spent on the beach and learning to surf.

he makes some off-hand comment about making it out which causes your brows to furrow, “so did you,” tapping the table in front of him, “remember we would talk about college? living in a big house together?”

he chortles, almost choking on his beer, “yeah, with ten dogs and three cats,” shaking his head at the ridiculousness of it all.

“wow..” robin butts in, “so you did this with other girls before me?” faux-offence written all over her face.

you beam, looking between the two of them, “so are you guys dating?”

steve does choke this time, sputtering as the bitter liquid slides down the back of his throat.

“no!” they chime in unison.

“jesus christ, you think i’d date him?” robin falls into a fit of giggles, it didn’t hurt his ego anymore. robin had very particular tastes and that very much didn’t include men.

“thanks rob..” he snarls jokingly, “i uh, i have a girlfriend.. just not robin,” he’s not sure why he’s apprehensive to tell you. christ, he’d only re-known you for five fucking minutes.

“sorry, i just assumed..” shrinking into your seat, desperate to change the subject.

he’s modestly pleased that you don’t ask any more about his girlfriend, which in turn makes him feel a rotten sense of guilt.

“yeah well, to assume makes an ass out of you and me,” robin adds, giving you a poke to your ribs for good measure, “and he’s definitely not my type,” her nose shrivelling up in disgust.

you snigger, poking robin right back as she explodes into her myriad of reasons why she would never date steve. she kept a list.

there’s a sickening feeling of affinity, like all the years you hadn’t been together just ceased to exist, they no longer mattered.

especially when your eyes meet as robin prattles on, like you’re sharing an old joke.

he doesn’t like this, doesn’t fancy his odds of coming out of this unscathed but that doesn’t stop him from shifting his chair closer as the night goes on. nor does it stop him from walking you home, supporting a tipsy robin on his arm.

and it most certainly doesn’t effect him when you hug him goodnight, nestling your chin into his shoulder the way you used to.

fuck.

-

steve climbs down the steps into the strange smelling studio, he hadn’t even known this ever existed. there’s art littering the walls, the shelves, just about any surface that was available.

you’re at the back of the empty room, dabbing a paintbrush onto a canvas, completely unaware of his presence.

“hey.. robin said you’d be down here,” he speaks softly, so as to not startle you.

you still jump, clutching your chest as you spin on your heel, “jesus christ,” panting rather dramatically, “you scared the shit outta me,” shock turning into a wide smile.

“sorry,” he chuckles, weaving through the easels, trying his damn hardest not to touch or knock anything over, “what ya’ working on?” peering at the canvas.

it’s a beautiful scene, a lone swing set lies in the middle, surrounded by a peachy-pink sunset. it’s reminiscent of something he can’t quite place.

“oh just..” shrugging him off, “some stuff for my exhibition.. i dunno if i like it yet,” downplaying the glorious work of art in front of him. as if there were any need.

“what are you talking about? it’s so good,” still clinging onto his backpack strap.

you shake your head, taking the apron off of your body, tossing it onto the hook full of other dirtied aprons. “i can do better.. anyway, did you trek all the way down here for a reason or..?”

he lingers by the painting for a second longer before turning to face you, remembering his actual aim, “yes! are you joining us for dinner tonight? robin wants you to meet all of our friends,” he offers, though he’s aware it’s not much of a deal for you.

“uh.. who’s gonna be there?” you ask, quirking a brow. he’s aware that you’re not exactly a social butterfly.

“well, nancy, jonathan, vickie.. argyle, if jonathan can convince him to come out,” they were all nice enough, if he and robin liked you, they definitely would too.

“i dunno..” wrinkling your nose.

“come on,” he pleads, “it’ll be fun.. they’ll love you. nance’s been begging me to get you out.. please?”

you shake your head, as if weighing up your options, “okay.. fine, but dinner’s on you,” as you drop the pallet into the sink for someone else to deal with.

“great,” he beams, there’s something to be said about the fact he still hadn’t introduced katie to the rest of his friends yet.. but he doesn’t wanna think about that.

his hand comes to rest on what he thinks is a dry desk, waiting for you to finish up, only to find his hand now covered in goopy white paint, “oh shit,” he fusses, pulling your attention from the sink.

“oh fuck, i should’ve told you that was wet..” looking between his outstretched hand and his eyes, a giggle bubbling on your lips as he stomps over to the sink.

“oh is this funny to you, huh?” joining you at the basin.

you run the hot water for him, grabbing the bottle of soap ready to clean his hand, “well it’s a little funny,” lips twitching while he stands like a lemon.

as steve normally does, he acts before he thinks, pressing his paint-covered palm to your cheek, only registering what he had done when you shriek in response, splashing water everywhere.

“you asshole!” you gasp, brows furrowed as you conjure up something for revenge.

that’s when you grab the still paint-covered brush and smear it over his cheek and nose, staining his features a daring bright orange.

“oh it’s like that is it?” he grins, grabbing your wrist with his clean hand, threatening to mark you again. “you don’t wanna mess with me, i’ve got the upper hand,” sticking his tongue out slightly, unable to shake the way your eyes still glistened the same.

“if you want me to come to dinner, you’ll put your hand down.. call a truce,” bargaining with him.

he obliges, holding his hands up in surrender, “okay.. okay, you win,” unable to contain his laughter as he washes the paint from his palm.

you shoulder barge him as you come back to the sink, pulling your clean brushes from the water and leaving them to dry on the metal board.

“we’re gonna have to swing by my room,” you smile begrudgingly, shoving your stuff into your bag, watching as he dries his hand.

“okay,” his grin still lingering, “personally, i think you should just come to dinner like that.. it looks great,” enjoying the ribbing that came with being your friend.

you scoff, practically pushing him out of the studio, ensuring he couldn’t wreck havoc on anything else.

the pair of you glide down the hall, steve filling you in on the guests that would joining you for dinner when a voice calls his name from in front.

katie bounds up to him, smile fading the second she sees the new colour of his face, “why are you orange?” face screwed up as she rescinds her offer of a kiss. he’s slyly thankful that your adorned his face now.

“oh we.. i- i tripped, got paint everywhere,” he chuckles, feeling like a scolded child.

katie hums, “right.. that’s kinda weird,” her eyes flit over to you and the paint on your face, “you trip too?” a judgemental look flashing across her features.

“no,” shrinking into yourself, “steve.. tripped,” doubting your own words, like your measly paint fight needed to be kept secret. but maybe that’s just how he felt, is that wrong?

he can’t decide.

“hmph,” katie frowns, her attention turning back to steve, “go and clean up.. you look like a clown,” before speeding off down the hall, ponytail flouncing around as she goes.

he just rolls his eyes continuing out of the building as you scurry along behind, “she seems nice,” sarcasm dripping off your tongue.

“ignore her,” brushing the whole encounter off, “she’s just.. pissy because i’m busy tonight, don’t take it personally,” offering a short smile. he glances at his watch, grimacing at the time, “oh shit, we’re late,” grabbing your hand as he starts sprinting ahead.

“i can’t meet your friends like this!” you holler, bounding behind him.

“they won’t mind!” he screams into the wind, dodging other students with a skill only possessed by someone who chronically sleeps through their alarm.

they really don’t.

in fact, robin bursts into laughter as you walk into the diner, “i’m not even gonna ask,” tapping the plush cushion for you to slide in next to her, steve follows closely behind.

the two of you share a look, an inside joke that was just yours. he liked that, it made him feel strangely important. like he was worthy of sharing things with just you.

everyone is lovely, obviously. he had no doubt that they would be. argyle corners you about california, discovering that it is a rather large state and no, you won’t have bumped into each other.

steve doesn’t want the night to end, he’s selfish like that. so he does the sane thing to ensure you spend as much time together as possible, walking you and robin back through campus, still adorned with paint.

“thank you.. for making me go,” you smile coyly once you reach your door, robin had already disappeared off inside, leaving just the two of you.

“no worries.. i told you they’d love you,” shoving his hands into his pockets, mostly so he doesn’t do anything stupid.

you chuckle, reaching for the door handle, “i’ve really missed you, you know? it’s like it’s all hit me at once,” shrugging your shoulders as if that were just some nonchalant comment he would ever be able to forget.

“i missed you too,” he adds, truly meaning it.

sure, he’d found friendship again but nothing had ever felt quite like you. it was different, and even now after years and years of being in separate states, with no idea that the other was even still alive, it all felt normal.

like you could walk back into that park tomorrow, sit on the swings and just natter away about everything and nothing like you used to.

“goodnight, see you tomorrow?” you smile, sliding through the door, waiting just long enough for his reply.

“of course,” returning the smile.

he hums all the way home, a child-like joy overrunning his senses. he thinks about you when he dreams, of sharing crayons and candy. high-pitched giggles and an unfaltering feeling of love.

-

it had been weeks of hanging out now, sharing tales from your childhood, robin was still struggling to understand that you were also from hawkins. “you’re just.. it’s crazy, you’re nothing like the usual hawkins dwellers and the fact that you were friends with him? wow..” she had muttered with a swift jab to steve’s arm.

she had had the bright idea of a sleepover, they hadn’t really been able to since moving to chicago, out of respect for their roommates but now her roommate was you, what was stopping them?

“why don’t we push the beds together?” robin blurts out, like a lightbulb had just gone ding on the top of her head.

you nod excitably, going to heave your bed across the room. steve pushes the end of the bed frame, connecting it to robin’s as she stands there doing absolutely nothing to help.

“phew thanks robin, couldn’t have done that without all your help!” steve quips, throwing his best friend a snide smile.

“shut up dingus, my nails are still wet,” as if that made it okay.

you smile at the two of them, stood in your pyjamas that steve had definitely not been gawping at. he doesn’t mean to, he knows it’s not like that. he has a girlfriend for christ’s sake.

that’s what he’s been telling himself anyway.

“you’re in the middle,” robin declares, looking at you, rather than him, “put your cold feet on somebody else for once,” before climbing into her side of the bed.

you slide in next, cuddling up to robin as you do. steve’s next, fashioned in his excuse for pyjamas, namely a chicago university shirt and his boxers. it probably wouldn’t go down well if katie were to find out but he didn’t particularly care.

there’s a joke there, something about sharing a bed with a lesbian and his childhood best friend but he can’t be bothered to think about it.

not when you turn over to face him, all smiles and warm cheeks, he has to remind himself that robin is on the other side of you, mumbling something about not waking her up early.

“goodnight,” you grin, relaxing into the pillow you shared as the light flickers off.

“night,” he replies, pulling his eyes away from your shadowy features, deciding that staring at the fuzzy ceiling was better than being a freak.

you roll over slightly, head falling onto his shoulder making his breathing falter, sworn to this position until you up and moved. it’s a sacrifice he’s willing to make.

he shouldn’t be thinking like this, you’re friends, old friends to be exact. and he has a girlfriend.

-

except, he awakens in the morning, stiff shoulder and a cricked neck, taking a peek at the other side of the bed to find robin had forced you into him with her sprawling limbs.

you rouse not long after he does, blinking at the light and hurriedly moving your head from his dead arm.

“oh my god,” you remark, “i’m sorry.. was i on you all night?” wriggling around the small space you held.

steve exhales, lifting his arm in the air in an attempt to get some blood flowing back into the extremity, “yup.. it’s okay though,” quickly rolling over to face you, “sleep well?”

“well, apart from robin’s foot in my back.. yeah, pretty well,” chuckling into the pillow as you shy away. he wishes you wouldn’t.

“then it was worth the dead arm,” returning your abnormally bright smile, you were far too chipper for this time in the morning but he didn’t mind. made a difference from the usual grump robin was in, for sure.

“you should sleep over more often,” you smile.

he heart soars, god he’d love to. “oh yeah? like we used to?”

the crinkle by your eye returns, remembering times gone by, “yeah, just like that,” speaking softly, as if it wouldn’t take an industrial alarm to wake robin.

“you wanna go get breakfast?” he asks, before this devolves any further.

“absolutely.”

-

there’s a knock at the door, tommy doesn’t flinch, doesn’t even make a half assed effort to pretend to care so steve huffs and gets up to answer.

you’re stood on the other side, already smiling as you wait. it’s a welcome sight, without robin he’s been a little stir-crazy, not yet brave enough to venture to your room without her there.

maybe he’s afraid that something would happen, maybe he’s not. he’s not entirely convinced that he’d have the power to stop himself.

“i just came to give you a ticket.. for my exhibition, it’s on saturday so.. if you’re busy i totally get it,” you fret, offering out the ticket to him.

there’s an undetermined feeling in his stomach, looking down at the paper ticket in his pal, warmth rushing to his chest at the fact you’d even considered him.

steve steps out of the room, closing the door behind him, away from tommy and listening ears. tommy and katie were friends somewhat, mostly by association through his girlfriend carol. anyhow, he wasn’t keen on him telling some misconstrued story to carol and then reaping the punishment from that.

“wow..” still starstruck that you had asked him. “i’ll be there.. wouldn’t miss it,” sliding the ticket into his pocket, mostly so he would stop looking like a weirdo for staring at it.

“okay,” you nod, smile up to your ears, “it’s only small..” here you go again, downplaying your talent as if steve would ever care.

“stop it,” he warns, jokingly rolling his eyes, “hey, i’ll walk you back.. i needa get out of that fucking room,” gesturing for you to take the lead.

you chatter all the way across campus, talking about everything and nothing, he wants to ask if that painting of the swingset will be there but doesn’t. letting you blabber on about composition and the asshole gallery manager that wants you to set up at 6am.

its only when you reach your hall that you stop, turning to face him with a genuine smile that makes his heart thud.

“it’d really mean a lot if you came..”

he nods, stepping closer only just, “i will, i’ll be there,” assuring you as much as he could. he meant it, too. there’s really nothing he could think of that would make him not go.

he allows his gaze to slip to your lips, he lets himself do that even though he shouldn’t.

studying the curve, the slight gap between your bottom and top lip, the way they twitch with what he hopes is anticipation.

you’re both inching closer, neither of you acknowledging what’s about to happen. the air is thick, silent even. a knowing sense that you’re either about to ruin everything or become something more.

two doors down, a door swings open, a voice bellowing out, “i’ll catch up!” before a boy speeds out, glancing at the two of you briefly before disappearing.

you clear your throat, averting your gaze, studying the dirtied floor, “okay.. i’ll see you saturday,” coy smile as you unlock the door and potter off inside.

steve stands there, blinking at the wooden frame as if you’d somehow materialise from the other side.

he hightails it back to his room, in some sort of daze as he attempts to reconfigure himself. his relationship and his friendship with you. nothing made sense.

he’s not sure it ever will again.

fuck he wishes robin were here. of course she’s at some stupid family reunion when he needs her most. his next port of call would be you and well.. that didn’t seem particularly helpful.

he errs on calling robin, floating around his room with no purpose. at least tommy was no where to be seen, unsure if he could’ve handled his beady little eyes and snooping questions.

katie would be waiting on him, he always stayed over on thursdays, at least he used to. before you were back i. the picture. before you had completely consumed his mind with your stupid smile and stupid face. both a distant memory and an important part of his current life. it’s fucking dizzying.

it’s not really stupid, he thinks he’s stupid actually.

steve does what he does best and decides to ignore his brain, grabs his keys and storms out of his dorm. he’s grateful that katie’s house is on the opposite side of campus from your building. that way he couldn’t accidentally wind up there instead of where he’s supposed to be.

she welcomes him in, a pink, frilly house that steve had always detested a little bit. it smelt too strongly of vanilla and the other girls always side-eyed him, bitter and judgemental over something he couldn’t figure out.

it’s now that they’re sat on katie’s satin bedsheets that he realises that he really, really doesn’t want to be here.

nevertheless, he swallows it down. putting on false pretences as they fake-watch the shitty rom-com she’d turned on to fill the silence.

“so.. have you got your suit for saturday?” katie asks, playing with his limp hand.

“yeah,” resisting the urge to move his hand away, “sorry- saturday? i thought it was tomorrow?”

katie had asked- or more precisely begged him to escort her to this senior send off ceremony. some bullshit sorority ritual that made zero sense to him.

“uh.. no, always been saturday,” she’s still smiling, still trying, “steve, i told you weeks ago,” her frustrations seeping out of her pores, spilling over onto her features.

“you said friday,” so sure of himself, so sure that she was wrong. how would he forget that?

unless something, or perhaps someone was shrouding his mind.

“well, what plans are more important than your girlfriend’s senior send off?” she asks, all defensive.

he struggles to answer, there’s no way he can really spin it to make it sound less bad, strangled noises drift from his throat as the words fail to form.

“exactly,” katie pouts, crossing her arms over her chest, “you’ll just have to rearrange.”

steve doesn’t stay over, makes up some shoddy excuse about needing to study to get out of it. she’s not happy, obviously, but when is she?

he’s grateful that the campus is quiet as he stalks back to his dorm, thoughts swirling through his brain. everything is so confusing, his cushy little college life had been majorly disrupted and now all of the plans he had made had come crashing down.

there had been conversations about finding a house after graduation, moving in together randomly starting their life and yet, that couldn’t be further than what he wanted.

at least now.

-

steve finally gives up, turning to the only person he thinks will rationalise his thoughts, robin buckley. who has pulled her grandmother’s phone into the private dining room just for this conversation.

“we nearly kissed,” he spits out, eyeing the group of drunk students passing in the hallway. wouldn’t it be great if it somehow got back to katie through some nosy busybody.

“what? when? why didn’t you call me sooner?” she demands, “why didn’t you kiss? oh my god steve harrington, you’re so useless.”

“uh.. what do you mean why didn’t we kiss? remember my girlfriend? who’d chop my balls off if i ever cheated on her?”

“who cares? nobody likes her anyway,” robin roars right into his ear.

“i’m not gonna even acknowledge that.”

“okay, well, did you want to kiss her?”

steve pauses, perplexing the situation. he doesn’t need to really, of course he wanted to.

“..yeah.”

“well there you go!” she shrieks.

“it felt.. weird, i dunno, i think she wanted to too,” he curls the cord around his finger, “and now katie wants me to go to this senior send-off thing but there’s the exhibition.. i don’t know what to do,” his shoulders slumping.

“wait wait wait, what do you mean it felt weird?” dismissing his dilemma. you know, the thing he had actually called her about.

“well it felt right.”

the line goes silent but he can still hear her faint breathing down the line. she’s thinking, probably attempting to sweeten up her words. but eventually she sighs, “i think you know what to do.”

“but i don’t! rob i really don’t! why do you think i’m calling you at fucking one am?”

she clicks her tongue and steve can picture what smug look she has on her face, it was a signature feature of hers, especially when she’d been able to prove him wrong. “you do. i think you called me because you wanted me to tell you what you want to hear.. but i don’t even need to do that.”

he wails into the receiver, all he’d wanted was a clear cut answer from his best friend. a little advice and maybe some confirmation bias, was that too much to ask for?

“you’re no help,” he scowls, patting his now empty pockets in search of more coins, “i haven’t got any more change.. i’m gonna have to go,” sighing as he’s left on his own with his head once more.

“you’ll do the right thing, steve. i know you and i trust you,” before the line cuts out, the dial tone screams out.

he slams the piece of useless plastic back onto the holder. that wasn’t helpful, rather just some weird, reverse psychology lesson. he feels cheated, his first option of just flipping a coin would’ve been more helpful.

his feet drag along the carpet back to his room, swallowing the guilt and all of the other confusing emotions he seemed to have accumulated.

it’s funny that even though robin hadn’t exactly said anything specific, he’d known what she was talking about. it’s even funnier that as he climbs into bed, all he can think about is you.

-

steve hangs back, stood at the back while the speech finishes. he doesn’t know what he’s doing here, what he’s supposed to be looking at or talking to, incredibly out of place.

no one pays him any mind, too interested in whatever this balding man has to say.

you don’t spot him either, keeping your eyes trained to the art director. he can tell you’re nervous, picking indiscreetly at your hangnail, chewing on your cheek. you’d never liked, or been particularly good at public speaking, steve was your voice for many years. not that he minded.

there’s lots of chatter, people walking around the small space with their hands behind their back, putting on this facade that they were art snobs and not just weird middle-aged people looking for something to do on a saturday afternoon.

they all sort of disperse, ogling the paintings and such. leaving him stood in the middle of the room like a lemon, wondering if he should just go over to you or wait until this had all finished.

but you meet his eye momentarily, head snapping in his direction when you realise who it is. your lips slowly curve into a smile, ditching the conversation to weave through everyone to him.

“you came,” you state, like there was ever a chance of him not coming.

“i told you i would,” he’s not one to break a promise. ever.

“no i know but, robin mentioned something about your girlfriend, she didn’t know if you were.. forget it,” throwing your hands about, ridding the air of your words.

he’s not exactly surprised that you’d have doubts, not after your almost-kiss the other night. he hadn’t seen you since, too busy with the exhibit to sit and dwell on it, he bets.

steve shakes his head, “nah, i had something more important to do,” full of unbridled exhilaration, it’s like his body knew he had made the right choice.

you flush, avoiding his eyes as you usually do when you’re nervous or embarrassed. “well.. thank you,” shrugging him off. he so wish you wouldn’t.

he decides to just lay it all bare, tired of skirting around the truth and minimising his obviously very real feelings. “this isn’t the right time but,” smoothing down his wrinkled shirt, “i just wanted you to know that i’ve wanted to do this for weeks and.. shit,” he sighs, cupping your cheek and moving in before you can protest.

your lips connect, sending flames through his veins, you’re not expecting it judging by the lack of movement on your part, stood frozen even as he pulls away.

“sorry,” the first thing he says, watching your face as you stand shocked.

he was so sure that his feelings would be reciprocated, had pretty much convinced himself that you were destined to grow grey together but maybe he’d got it all wrong.

his cheeks burn as you just blink, time slows and he wishes that the floorboards would just collapse under him so he could disappear forever.

in lieu of a reply, you smash your faces together again, this time steve’s not quite expecting it, your noses bang against each others. but he doesn’t move, his smile growing against your lips.

there are a collection of muttered oohs from the crowd. it was rather a lot for a saturday morning.

“sorry,” you echo, biting down into your bottom lip, “not the wrong time at all,” your eyes shining through your spindly lashes.

steve bursts into laughter, drawing an even bigger crowd of eyes as he does so. his eyes dart around the vaguely stunned audience, “hey look, find me after.. i’ll be here,” gently pushing you off to go and do whatever the hell it is that artists do at these things.

you nod, all dazed and smiley, immediately falling into conversation about a painting.

-

he’s only dozing when the door creaks open, too encapsulated by sleep to bother to open his eyes. you’re dead to the world, snoring softly curled into his chest.

a quiet gasp rings out from the door and then just as expected, robin bounds over to your bed, poking his arm that was both underneath your shoulders and hanging off of the bed.

he peeks a look at his slightly deranged best friend, the lamp was just bright enough to showcase her enthusiastic grin, “you did it!” whispering far too loudly, “i knew you’d make the right choice,” buzzing around the room.

she damn near jumps in the air, clicking her heels together like some freak.

steve just closes his eyes again, falling back into sleep with a grin on his face and you between his arms.

[thoughtsonkm]

Jeju pt.1 in a nutshell

(more than that, I just love this pretty aesthetic shot)

The vibe was definitely different because logically two people (especially jm&jk) are gonna behave differently than a three person group. Just a matter of numbers, synergies and the need to deliver a specific product to the audience. Nonetheless it was so entertaining to me. I realize I kinda missed these three together sharing 2 braincells (1 for jimin and 1 for tae&jk). The first two episodes were so chill and they felt like they almost had a lowkey underground vibe as if they were in their own bubble away from everyone just living life in their little part of the world accompanied by a moody scene and dim lights while this episode was like a action packed manic episode, so bright so cheerful with childlike wonder. I'm glad they can still have fun together and always enjoy the moment.

Plus let's be honest jikook are gonna jikook no matter the place, time and people around.

Some of the funniest parts of the ep to me were: The contrast of Jimin yapping about Aewol and Tae&Jk eating like there's no tomorrow. The drive through ordeal. The perfect comedic scenario of Jimin chasing Tae to make him eat like it was the last thing he would do.

Favourite reaction meme/face of the day. The betrayal, the suspense, the drama.

LOOK at this little bean stopping and collecting Jimin's 1930 shoes and going after his shenanigans like the dependable banryeo he is 😭 (remember back in 2019 when jimin called jk that and everyone went crazy and rolled with it for MONTHS? Good times)

~

On another note it's actually very interesting how you can feel and see how in every second Jimin tries to be in control of the situation and always on top of everything, every angle and every concern. He also always looks so deep in thoughts during these episodes, it's like he's given himself the task to be the artist, entertainer, manager,producer and everything all at once in this show. I'm sure it also has to do with his own personality and being someone who looks at every minor detail, a perfectionist who tries to curate everyone and everything.

~

The way Jk's life flashed before his eyes when he saw blood on Jimin's lips ~ so fuckin cute

And after Jimin's lip incident happened, Jungkook could not stop licking his own lips for the rest of the episode and probably day, I see you

THAT scene was so thought inducing, so ao3 ff coded it was insane. Just Jk silently staring at a dazzling and sleeping jimin in the ground. 37292 scenarios could've been played and then.. just walked away to take a shower (⁠ ͡⁠°⁠ ͜⁠ʖ⁠ ͡⁠°⁠)

Not okay seriously! The concern, the adoration, the yearning.

Blaming Jk for his actions was never an option. LOOK AT HIM

I LOVE the constant little comedic improvs Jikook do together, they're so fun!! You can tell that it's part of their usual daily thing (it's actually smth i also do with my friends and it always gets hysterical)

~

The idea that they went on a private trip to Jeju in August and then went again for the show in September, fills me with joy. Love that they had the opportunity. Seems like they keep on going to the same locations twice, just so they can get that full experience with each other.

~

I kid you not, this is one of my top3 fav things they do together. JIMINSSIII - JUNGKOOKSSIII

The editing being almost backwards and all over the place really is a little off-putting sometimes, jarring even. Not keeping events in a chronological order is sus on it's own, like they're scraping for footage at this point..

And yes it is also kinda bothering me that it's been years and years of content creation and they still can't do a good job at translating and coordinating what everyone says, is it really that hard? is it??

Imma put her on blast just out of pettiness 😆

[marvelobsessed134]

Can you do a cute Peter Steele one where the reader has a daughter and she meets him for the first time and gets scared

Gentle giant

A/n: This was so cute and wholesome ahhh I love it

Parings: Peter Steele x Fem!reader

Warnings: mentions of teen pregnancy, shitty ex, and I think that’s it.

You and Peter have been dating for a couple months and you were at first nervous to tell him you had a daughter. At 16 years old your ex boyfriend got you pregnant and walked out on you and your unborn baby. Originally you were going to give her up for adoption but when you held her in your arms, you fell in love and just had to keep her. Even though it was hard being a teen mom, you wouldn’t trade it for the world.

Rosie is only 5 years old but she is very bright and creative, you told Peter one night. And instead of being turned off, he actually was more interested in you and was eager to meet her. So that’s what you’re doing today.

The two of you decided to meet at a cafe in Brooklyn close to where your apartments are. You walked with your little girl hand in hand to the cafe. “Where are we going mommy?” She asked.

“We’re going to meet a special friend of mine. He’s very kind.” You explained. Obviously she wouldn’t understand what dating is so you just kept it simple. To her, Peter is your special friend.

Once you walked into the cafe the smell off coffee beans filled your sinuses as you searched the room for Peter. Your mouth grew into a smile as you spotted him sitting at a table in a corner away from everyone. You walked up to him and he looked up at you and smiled.

Once the raven haired man stood up, though was when Rosie got a little nervous and hid behind your legs. Once you had given your boyfriend a kiss, he turned his attention to your little girl.

“Rosie, this is Peter.” You introduced.

She hid behind your legs, not making eye contact with him. Peter noticed this but was not offended. He’s a big guy, and can come off as intimidating especially to a young child. And right before you were going to apologize to him, he knelt down.

Your daughter peaked from behind your legs as she saw the now shorter man looking at her with kind eyes. “Hey, Rosie right?” The bassist asked.

She nodded shyly.

“As your mother said, I’m Peter. It’s nice to meet you I’ve heard so much about you.” She was still silent but slowly seemed to let her guard down. “She told me that you’re an artist?” Rosie smiled a bit at that, “I play drums.” Shes proud of her drum playing skills. You bought her a toy drum set for Christmas last year and she’s been using it every day.

“Wow! That’s really cool. I have a friend who plays drums his name is Johnny he’s pretty cool he can teach you a few tricks.” Your heart melted at how gentle he was being, how soft he was speaking. Of course Peter has always been gentle-a gentle giant if you will-but seeing this right now, makes your heart leap for joy.

He held out his large hand and she slowly stuck out her small one, putting it on his palm. The size difference was so adorable, and he gently closed his hand around hers. “Now, what do you say about a cake pop?”

[daycourtofficial]

How the kingdom lights shined just for me and you

Pairing: Eris x Rhysand’s sister!reader | WC: 3.2k | warnings: depictions of violence

Summary: Eris tells his sons a story, letting them know how a strong knight defeated an evil dragon and saved the kingdom.

Note: this is a part of my gingerfucker series and mentions events that are detailed in ‘Cold was the steel of my axe to grind’. This is also anplay on the ‘retellings’ prompt for today - thought it’d be fun to have Eris sanitize how Beron died as a fairytale story @erisweekofficial

“Fairy tales do not tell children the dragons exist. Children already know that dragons exist. Fairy tales tell children the dragons can be killed.” - G.K. Chesterton

The sound of wood clashing rang through the room before being immediately followed by a trio of giggles. Eris stood outside the door, arms crossed debating what to do, listening as the children inside pretended to be knights defeating an evil king. Or was it a dragon they were fighting and they were Peregryn warriors? It was impossible to keep track of Atlas, Nyx, and Leif’s antics. Their interests changed so quickly, it was impossible to keep track of what was the thing to be during their playtimes.

Their games of make believe often took elements of Eris’s life and formed a hodgepodge of stories where most of the time they are brave warriors seeking to defend their lands.

The boys enjoyed it. Eris’s back didn’t whenever he was deemed the bad guy, their small swords leaving bruises that seemed to last for a week.

Early fights between the boys had led to many tears - they all wanted to be the hero, the good guy. They did not know the males their fathers had been before, the males who had done unspeakable things to survive.

Before he could make the decision himself, Leif had made it for him by appearing in the door way and holding onto Eris’s trouser leg. Eris ran his fingers through Leif’s red locks, forcing his son to look up at him.

Leif was incredibly sensitive - an empath like his mother, Leif often became overwhelmed incredibly quickly. Fat tears would begin rolling down his cheeks before anyone could realize what went wrong. Nyx and Atlas, both a few years older than Leif, often became too rambunctious for the smallest Vanserra.

But Leif’s eyes were bright and full of joy, not a hint of upset on his small face.

You and the Archerons had gone to spend the evening in a cabin a few miles away. You weren’t far from the Forest House or from Eris’s mind, but you insisted you needed a weekend before this next babe came to be yourself. Three kids under five was going to be a lot and the two of you wanted to soak up every moment possible before having a newborn again.

Unfortunately, Leif took the separation from his mother much harder than Atlas did, but seemed to be doing surprisingly well. Eris crouched down, getting down to Leif’s level to ask, “are you alright?”

The small boy nodded before a yawn escaped his mouth, betraying his real feelings.

“Are you tired?”

Leif’s nod at that question was more pitiful, as if a full nod were too taxing for the small boy. Eris opened his arms, allowing Leif to wrap his arms around Eris’s neck before he stood back up, walking into the playroom, finding it impossible to find the floor from the toys scattered across it. He got peeks at the green rug beneath, but various plushies and toy armor littered the floor hiding it.

Eris whistled, the two whirlwinds slowing down enough to take form as small boys, their swords going lax at their sides.

“Is this a playroom or a graveyard for lost toys for all of Prythian?”

The two looked to each other as they fell into a mess of giggles, the cousins looking completely unrelated. Atlas so far had inherited no features from his mother, the little boy pale and freckly much like his father, his cheeks often pink from how hot he ran.

Nyx on the other hand was quite tan, a byproduct of the time he spent in the sun this summer. His small wings fluttered in excitement, not quite strong enough to launch him from the ground but enough to produce a decent wind.

Eris had gotten all three of them washed up an hour ago, allowing them to work out the last of their energy in the playroom where he knew they wouldn’t get dirty again. He figured Lucien had crept off to his own rooms to change, his clothes dripping with water after Atlas snuck his hound, Pumpkin, into their bath and Lucien had to chase down the wet beast.

Eris was so amused at the sight he didn’t tell his brother he could simply call for the dog, instead letting him slip and slide across the floors in an attempt to get to him.

The boys stood in their pajamas, all looking up at Eris. He moved his head toward the door, motioning for Atlas and Nyx to follow him.

“Come on. Time for bed.”

The two small boys groaned, but Leif merely nuzzled into Eris’s neck as he carried him into the room down the hall.

Despite the size of the Forest House, Atlas and Leif did much better when sharing a room. The two had been kept separate when Leif was born, until Leif was around eight months old and Atlas woke up just about every night and dragged Leif into his bedroom.

Most mornings Eris found Leif in Pumpkin’s dog bed in the corner of Atlas’s room, curled up with his older brother, Pumpkin sleeping peacefully on his son’s bed.

The first morning it happened caused Eris to spiral. Finding Leif’s crib empty sent him on a hunt throughout the house, waking up everybody in the process until he went to check on Atlas, finding the small babe in his brother’s arms.

It has been several years and the boys fight on occasion, but overall are quite happy to share a room. For tonight they get to have Nyx share their room too.

To prepare for their cousin, the boys grabbed their mattresses, pushing them together on the floor and putting pillows and blankets all over the floor so all three of them could lay together.

Nyx’s wings were still quite small - not big enough to support his weight, they barely stuck out around his shoulders. The sight of Nyx’s wings still sent a twinge of guilt through Eris.

It had been centuries since your wings were taken from you, but Eris still remembers the venom he had spat at you right before you lost them and how incredibly small you looked when Tamlin had showed up with you, your back a bloody mess.

You had made peace with it long ago, but every so often whenever he finds himself with an Illyrian nearby, he wishes you could have those wings back, even if for just a moment. To watch you glide in the air, the winds of Autumn that had pushed him so far holding you up.

Eris lit the candles in the room, dusk casting the room in darkness. Leif’s fingers gripped his collar tighter as he crouched down, failing to put him on the floor.

“Can you tell us a story?”

Atlas perked up at Leif’s sleepy voice, practically vibrating in excitement. “The one with the dragon, please daddy?”

Atlas clutched his hands together in pleading, bouncing up as Eris agreed. He knew what Leif’s question was for - the small boy didn’t want to be set down yet, too content in his father’s arms to be left alone. If only Beron were alive to watch him cave to the demands of toddlers - his heart would stop beating in anger.

Eris stood back up, all attempts of removing Leif forgotten as he moved to the rocking chair in the corner, sitting with Leif curled up to his chest just like he had done hundreds of times before. Atlas and Nyx followed, sitting right in front of Eris on the mattresses that lay across the floor. He rocked for a moment - both to gather his bearings, deciding where to start the story, and because the anticipation killed the little boys before him.

“A long, long time ago, there once lived a knight.”

“What’s his name?”

Atlas was quick to shush his cousin, annoyed at his interruption no matter how many times he had heard the story. Leif began tapping on Eris’s chest, wanting him to keep talking, the sound of his voice soothing.

“We’ll just call him the knight. The knight lived a long time ago in a kingdom that doesn’t exist anymore.”

“Why not?”

Eris had no idea where Nyx’s inquisitive nature came from - his father certainly didn’t look too hard at the world outside of his dim perspective. The boy probably spent too much time with Azriel - anytime the spymaster was seen by either of his kids, they both ran rampant with questions of “why” and “how”, partly because Azriel would answer every single one of their questions, and because in their presence, he would also ask why and how and who questions.

“You’ll find out.”

Nyx opened his mouth, but Atlas moved his hand over his cousin’s mouth. “Stop.”

Eris continued with his story. “The knight lived in a land ruled by an evil dragon. He breathed fire at anyone who dared try to overthrow him.”

Nyx’s eyes grew large, excitement filling them as Eris pretended to breathe out fire.

“He was a big, nasty beast. His fangs are the size of a door. He had big red scales that covered his entire body, shielding him.”

Maybe he began embellishing these stories a bit.

“The handsome knight-”

“When’d he become handsome?”

Atlas slapped his hand onto his forehead in aggravation and Eris had to bite his tongue from laughing. The little boy hardly ever stopped talking and to watch his frustrations at his cousin doing the same was very amusing.

“He was always handsome.”

Eris had slowly been telling Atlas and Leif stories of his life in a much more palatable manner. Replacing their grandfather with a dragon, making Amarantha a dragon, making Rhys an evil king who hated him. He’d never admit it to anyone, but it was quite fun.

In one story he made Lucien a donkey just because it amused him. Lucien had been less than thrilled at his fictional depictions, even going so far as to try to tell his own stories to the boys. They didn’t like Lucien’s storytelling, so much so they begged him not to tell any stories.

“The incredibly good looking knight decided he needed to make a plan to kill the dragon,” giggles accompanied his words. “The knight had one issue: he was in love with a princess from a different kingdom.”

Leif gasped as if this were a new story to him - he enjoyed all aspects of Eris’s stories, but Leif was always happiest to hear about the princess. Whether or not Leif knew the princess was his mother, Eris wasn’t sure.

“And her king wouldn’t let her live in the kingdom of the dragon.”

“Why not?”

“Because dragons love the taste of princesses!” Nyx shrieked a little, and for good measure he added, “and the taste of little boys.”

Eris enjoyed riling his brothers up when they were young - one of the traits the centuries haven’t worn down. Once they both stopped screaming, Eris continued his story.

“So, the knight began planning with the other knights of the kingdom. They spent months making a plan to get rid of the dragon. He was killing their crops, even eating some of the people, and hoarding all of the kingdom’s gold. No one had any money or food. They devised a plan and set a date to take down the dragon. On the night before, the knight slipped away to see his princess one last time, to catch a glimpse of her before going to battle.

“She was as beautiful as he remembered, their last meeting was months ago and he thought of it often. Her king didn’t approve of their relationship, but they met secretly without him knowing. She invited him up into her chambers, where he told her the plans for the next day. He wanted to say goodbye, wanted to see her one last time. He gave her a kiss farewell-” giggles filled the room. “And then the knight left once more. It was the hardest thing for him to do.”

“What was?”

“Saying goodbye to his princess.”

The boys were enraptured in the story, paying close attention to every word from Eris.

“Why?”

Atlas didn’t admonish Nyx for his question, wanting to know the answer himself.

“Because he loved her very much.”

He rubbed Leif’s back softly, rocking the chair gently as he continued.

“The knight left the princess’s tower, heading to find a secret weapon.” Nyx’s wings fluttered, the wind brushing over Eris and Leif. “He walked through the kingdom to find a special, magical sword. It had been hidden centuries before, waiting for the rightful person to come find it.”

Atlas pretended to wave a sword in his hand, making sounds that somewhat resembles clashing as he and Nyx pretended to be fighting with swords.

“The knight rode in on his horse, meeting the other knights as they rode in and fought the dragon head on.”

“Did the horses fight?”

“No, they stayed far away as the knights used their swords to pierce and stab the dragon over and over again, but he remained unharmed.”

Atlas and Nyx began acting out the story, Atlas grabbing a pillow and pretending it was the dragon.

“The dragon paid special attention to our knight, his teeth sharp as he kept scratching and biting the knight. He was injured, but he kept fighting on with his magical sword. The dragon hit him with his tail, causing the sword to go flying through the air.”

Eris’s voice rose and fell with the story, his words glossing over the atrocities of the day. He could not figure out a nice way to add in how their mother poisoned at minimum twenty-five of Beron’s closest advisors.

Their mouths were wide open now, desperate to know how the tale ends, Nyx allowing his inquisitive nature to take a backseat to Eris’s storytelling.

“The knight thought it would be over as the dragon snarled at him, opening his mouth so the knight could see his big, nasty teeth. He could even see some of the spinach he had eaten for dinner.”

The boys erupted in giggles, softs echoes of “ewwwww” littered the room.

“The knight had accepted his fate. He knew it was over, and all he could think about was how grateful he was he got to see his princess one last time. He had closed his eyes, preparing to die, but the dragon stopped breathing his nasty breath in the knight’s face.

“The dragon had turned, only to find one of the other knights, Sir Flint, had come from behind. He had picked up the magical sword and slashed the dragon’s neck!”

Tiny gasps came from his audience, but he continued to his favorite part of the story.

“Blood poured out of the dragon as he fell, his big body making a big thunk as he fell. Some say it even caused an earthquake because he was so heavy.”

Eris couldn’t tell them about the extent of Flint’s sacrifice - not yet anyway. But he would make sure they knew his name, even if he were merely a fairytale hero.

“Once the dragon was slain, the knight removed his armor to show that he was secretly a prince the whole time!”

The boys screeched in excitement, jumping up and searching for their swords to start fighting again, disappointed to remember they were left in the playroom. Once they settled back down, Eris continued.

“The other knights gave the prince a crown, making him king of the kingdom. His first act was to go find his princess and bring her to his kingdom, making her the queen.

“The end. Now, I think it’s time for bed.”

The boys groaned in protest, but complied. Grabbing their blankets and settling onto the beds all over the floor. Atlas and Nyx nestled in, hiding themselves amongst the blankets and pillows. Eris stood, Leif’s body having grown heavy with sleep, his steps careful to navigate the various pillows, trying to find a spot for his son.

Leif groaned at the stirring, but Eris was quick to hum softly, soothing something in Leif.

“What happened to the prince?” Nyx’s wings fluttered with anticipation, the blankets moving with his joy, wanting to know what happened to such a brave male.

Eris leaned in conspiratorially, the boys leaning into him as if he were going to tell them a secret.

“His kingdom is long gone, but he’s still alive. He wanders the lands of Prythian. He was last seen in Winter a few years ago. They say he hunts for little boys who stay up past their bedtimes.”

Their small shrieks made Eris want to laugh, but he kept a straight face despite himself. He looked to Leif, his youngest son much more susceptible to these tall tales, only to find him asleep once more. His eyes were closed, his round cheeks pressed into his chest making the freckles on his face scrunch together.

Atlas and Nyx had quickly thrown the blankets over themselves, their voices quiet telling the other to stop talking. He was able to find a spot for Leif next to Atlas, gently moving his head to a new pillow, draping a blanket over him.

“Good night.”

They echoed his sentiment, their voices muffled through the fabric of their blankets. Eris shut the door behind himself, listening to the two cousins bicker back and forth, their voices getting quieter as the dark lulled them to sleep. He started walking down the hallway, only to find Lucien walking his way. His brother changed his stride to walk with Eris, following him through the halls.

Eris and Lucien had agreed to keep the kids for the first night you were gone, and Rhysand would pick them up in the morning and keep them all day and night. His brother in law had been incredibly confident he could handle the three boys on his own, perhaps from some well-placed snark from Eris at how his one child was much different from two, let alone a third.

Eris didn’t have to manipulate people anymore, he could live as he wished to, showing whatever image of himself he wanted. But he’d be damned if he ever stopped tricking the High Lord of the Night Court for his own amusement.

“I was thinking about tomorrow.”

Eris hummed as Lucien spoke, the two moving toward Eris’s sitting room, both in desperate need of alcohol and to not have someone clinging to them.

“I heard from Nesta that Rhys was so smug he could handle the three boys by himself that Azriel and Cassian are going to some sporting event.”

“Hm, wonder where he’d get such ridiculous notions of himself, as if he had something to prove.”

Lucien’s laugh was barking, but he continued. “I think we should give the kids a bunch of sugar before they go to Night. It’ll drive Rhysand up a wall. He may never want to see your kids again, though.”

Divider by @tsunami-of-tears

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Eris taglist: @magicstrengthandcourage @book-obsessed124

Thanks for reading❣️

[linkito]

Kiss Prompt Scarian 30 …as comfort? :3 -🎀

ange asked for this as well, so it’s gotta be hhau, right? ft. some unused dialogue from our Big RP™

Scar hates seeing Grian like this— curled up and miserable, wings tucked so tightly against his back that they may as well be invisible. His hands fidget with the ribbon tied around one of his wrists, body mostly hidden under the length of his cloak. He’s pressed up into the wall in a way that can’t be comfortable and Scar just can’t take it anymore.

He needs to do something.

“Grian,” Scar tries, and though his ears droop slightly when Grian barely twitches in response, he still continues. “Did I ever tell you about my idea for a cookie shop?”

Grian does perk up slightly at that, but it’s mostly to cock an eyebrow in confusion, wondering why Scar would possibly think to bring up such a thing now of all times.

They hardly ever talk about Hermitcraft. And for good reason— it usually results in nothing but pain.

But something about Scar making cookies brings warmth to Grian’s frigid, aching heart, and despite his better judgement, he mumbles, “…cookie shop?”

Scar smiles, feeling successful already and deciding to ride that high. “Yeah, and I was going to bake them myself! None of that villager crap.”

Grian doesn’t reply directly, but he nods, eyes now regarding Scar with renewed interest, glad to tether his attention onto something that isn’t his own self-loathing and despair.

Scar is happy to take what he can get. He also scoots in closer to Grian, craving the closeness, just wanting to be within his orbit. It takes a moment, but Grian returns the casual affection by idly running his fingers over Scar’s knee, which is more than enough to keep Scar going on with his daydreamy nonsense.

“I was gonna grow out my hair and have this whole elven theme going— live in a tree, work right out of my house.” Scar runs a hand through his messy hair, noting that it’s already begun to grow out quite a lot, even if it looks nothing like how he would have intended. He probably looks more like some sort of goblin than a lustrous-haired elf.

Grian chuckles softly, pulling Scar out of his thoughts. “What, like a Keebler Elf?”

“What’s a Keebler Elf?” Scar asks, entirely genuine.

That gets Grian to laugh fully, and even if Scar doesn’t understand why, it makes his heart about melt. He loves Grian’s laugh. He doesn’t get to hear it enough these days.

“You know,” Scar adds, feeling cheeky now that he’s already earned this small victory. “I had a particular cookie in mind that I bet you would have loved.”

“Tell me,” Grian says, eager for more of this delightful distraction.

Now that he’s got him, Scar begins a long-winded explanation, theatrical and exuberant: “Well, I make a delicious chocolate chip cookie, of course, but you can’t have those—“

“I’m not allergic to chocolate, Scar.”

“You’re not??” Scar gasps, earning a small eye roll from Grian (he’s still smiling though, so still a win). “Well no matter! Because I had an amayzin’ idea for incorporating chorus fruit into the icing for sugar cookie.”

“Chorus fruit, really?” Grian replies quietly, now weirdly finding himself craving the odd, purple fruit that he likely would have never eaten otherwise. He feels the edge of doomed nostalgia begin to creep in, but only for a moment because Scar keeps talking, snagging his attention back to this fantasy of a quaint little cookie shop.

“Yeah! A treat and a surprise!” Scar exclaims proudly. “One little bite and zzzzzooooop!”

Grian laughs again, weaker, but still amused by Scar’s antics. He wants to let the daydream linger, to picture bright purple frosting and a fantastical treehouse without feeling a sense of great loss of what could have and should have been. He struggles, but Scar’s smile keeps him grounded, leaves him leaning in, gravitated toward that unbridled joy he somehow manages to hold onto.

But maybe his sorrow still shows through, because Scar leans in closer, presenting that smile so it fills all of his vision. “You know what I was going to call them?”

Grian blinks, barely able to process anything other than the closeness of Scar’s smiling face. He manages a small shake of his head, eyes still anchored on Scar’s bright green ones.

Scar’s smile widens, seeming incredibly pleased with himself and whatever this answer may be.

“Elven kisses,” he coos, closing the distance and pressing their lips together, softly, like a feather brushing over skin.

The name hardly makes sense, if Grian is being honest, but he doesn’t care in the slightest. Something about the prospect of a simpler time, where Grian is surrounded by the fresh smell of cookies and a beautifully woven treehouse and the image of Scar presenting him with that name just as proudly, a shy little blush scattered across his cheeks.

He should have kissed Scar a long, long time ago, he thinks, somewhat sadly.

But Scar’s lips are on his now, and it’s possibly one of the only good things left in this wretched nightmare of a server— an uncomplicated affection, something genuine and pure. Something gentle and loving when everything else is coarse and cruel.

Grian moves, grabbing both sides of Scar’s head with desperate, yearning hands, and kisses him fully, hungry for the comfort of Scar’s breath against his own, lips intertwined, passionate and unwavering.

Alive. Alive. Alive.

He feels Scar’s mouth curl upwards into a joyous smile, pressed into his own, private— theirs alone to enjoy— and for a moment, everything feels like it might be alright.

For a moment there’s sweetness dancing across his tongue, and Grian willingly falls into the illusion of its simplicity.

[feyhunter78]

I’m actually DYING for part 14 of the Dreadful Need of the Devotee, like my pain is clinical and your writing is the only thing that will cure me 🙏

No rush of course, I’m just in love with this story!! (But please, I need it badly)

I got you babe!!!! Enjoy <3

Chapter Fourteen - Ser Arthur Dayne has returned to court. Ch 15

Jon sits in Tyrion’s solar, the small table that sits between you all laden down with breakfast foods and teas. He is seated across from Tyrion, while you are seated next to Jon across from Ser Arthur, your soon-to-be good-father.

Introductions had gone well, you complimented his father, he complimented you, your betrothal was announced, and Jon had to keep himself from kissing you. The joy that radiated from you was so intense, he could not help but smile like a lovesick fool. But now, now the doubts begin to creep in.

If he had been told at the age of two and ten, he would be sitting with his soon-to-be wife a Lannister, the Imp Lannister and Ser Arthur Dayne the Sword of the Morning who was also his true father, Jon would not have believed whoever spoke such things to him. Truly he would have thought them playing a cruel joke, but now he sat in that very position wondering if it would all be revealed a horrid prank. A test to see how much the bastard boy could be convinced to believe.

You place your hand atop Jon’s where it rests on his knee, your brows furrowing in concern, and he waves you off, focusing on the meal set in front of him. You and him often broke fast together, and it was not too uncommon for your father to join the both of you, but this time it was different.

“Lady y/n, your father tells me you are a talented seamstress.” His father says, cutting into his sausage, his eyes, those dark purple eyes, so like Jon’s in the right light, observe you with an oddly formal air.

“I am, in fact the tunic Jon is wearing this morn is one I made myself.” You say, gracing Jon with a smile so bright it rivals the sun, and he turns further towards you following it as crops do, ever reaching, ever seeking your warmth and light.

His father hums in acknowledgement, examining every stitch of his tunic. “It is well-made; and the embroidery is quite detailed. It is not what one would think a sworn sword would be given by his charge.”

“He is my champion, seen as an extension of myself, I would never leave my chambers in rags, or dull, dreary clothing, so why should my sworn sword?” You say, taking a sip of your tea, sizing the man up.

“An interesting perspective.” His father comments, his eyes flickering to Jon.

“I suppose so.” You respond, dabbing your mouth with your cloth napkin.

“She is also a wonderful dancer.” Jon adds, unsure of his place in the conversation. He has never before been privy to these situations, and it is both exhilarating and terrifying.

“I am only wonderful because I have such an excellent partner that allows me to keep my skills sharp.” You smile prettily at him, and he watches the mask slip into place, you are attempting to charm the father by charming the son.

“They are a most excellent pairing, even Robert before he oh so tragically passed said they would make a good couple.” Tyrion says, spreading strawberry jam onto a thick slice of bread.

If I were not a bastard. He said we would be a good match if I was not a bastard. Jon thought bitterly.

“It pains me to know my son had love within his grasp for so long and could not claim it, I would soon see that rectified.” His father says, pulling a folded letter from his pocket. “I have kept this for you, it is a signed statement from the septon that presided over your mother, and I’s wedding. It was quick, not the lavish affair I would have wished to give her, but it was true in the eyes of The Seven.”

Jon feels you lean into him, reading the letter along with him.

“I fear it will not be enough. Aunt Cersei tore up Uncle Robert’s will, what if someone does the same to this?” You ask.

“Your Uncle Robert was dead he could not defend his will, but Ser Arthur is here, in the flesh.” Tyrion says.

Jon folds the letter and returns it to his father. “When would this take place? I would like to inform my siblings; they should not hear it from strangers or gossip.”

“They know, Lord Stark told them and Lady Stark once I had confirmed Ser Arthur was alive and wished to see you.” Tyrion assures him.

Jon pokes at his eggs, the yolk running, yellow-orange liquid tainting the white outer edges. He is glad the truth is known, but will this change how they see him? Will little Arya no longer trust him, will she keep him at a distance as Sansa had now that he is revealed as an impostor, a stranger? And Robb, his brother, will he still call him by that name, will he still hold the same love for him? At least Lady Catelyn will no longer have reason to hate him, he is not proof of her husband’s indiscretions, but his love for his sister.

“Where does Jon fall in the line of succession for Starfell?” Y/N directs the question towards his father, bringing him out of his gloom-stricken thoughts. “I know Lord Edric Dayne is your eldest brother’s son, but he is still a child close to Arya’s age, and your sister does not yet have children, does this not make him third after you?”

His father smirks and leans forward, placing his elbows on the table. “Do you wish him to be second?”

You mimic his posture, voice deadly calm, face unreadable. “I do not condone the murder of children, even if it would catapult Jon to heir of Starfell. I was merely asking a question.”

His father laughs, the sound warm, boisterous, filling the room as he leans back in his chair. “Your father has taught you well, lioness. But yes, Jon is third, if Edric, Seven forbid, were to die then I would take the seat, and Jon would follow after me.”

“We need not worry about that though, he will be by my side at Casterly Rock, is that not right, Father?” You hold your position, eyes still on Jon’s father.

“I have not yet heard word back on our family’s succession, your grandsire still holds out hope that Jaime will leave the Kingsguard and return home.” Tyrion drawls, before taking a sip of his tea.

“But he will not, and even if he did, would it not be shameful?” You venture, stirring your own tea with the tiny spoon provided.

“We shall see what options lay before him when our new king takes the throne, he could take Jaime’s head.” Tyrion says, his eyes on his bread, he has still not taken a bite, Jon feels confident that Tyrion will not be eating this morn.

“I am sure Robb will be merciful to Uncle Jaime, perhaps he could send him to the Wall? As loathe I am to think of him being sent far away, I imagine his skills would be of good use there?” You turn to Jon for confirmation.

Jon’s stomach churns, he wishes to tell you the truth, that it matters not what Robb thinks. “Yes, they are always in need of skilled and hearty men.”

“Oh, and then we could visit him, could we not?” Again, your question is directed at him, and he fights back the bile rising in his throat. He did not like this new weight, this new secret he must keep from you.

“The Wall is a long journey, even from Winterfell.”

“No journey is too long when it comes to family.” You say, dismissing his spoken worries with a smile and a wave of your hand.

“Little lion, perhaps we save our travel plans for after the new king arrives?” Tyrion suggests, seeming unfazed by the half-truths that roll off his tongue.

“Of course, Father.” You say, giving him a smile and tucking back into your breakfast.

Jon cannot eat, he can barely swallow. He wants to tell you the truth, wants to throw you over his shoulder and run, run all the way to Winterfell and hide you there until all this chaos has subsided.

“I think a wedding in Dorne is completely out of the question Ser Arthur, do you really believe people would attend a Lannister wedding that is not held at Casterly Rock or the Red Keep?” Tyrion says, pulling him back into the conversation that had proceeded without him.

“But it is not a Lannister wedding, it is a Dayne wedding.” His father smiles, sending Jon a wink.

“My daughter is a Lannister, in the eyes of Westeros it is a Lannister wedding, and truly it must be held at Casterly Rock, gods know the Red Keep has seen enough weddings.”

“House Martell will not attend if it is at Casterly Rock, which means Myrcella will not attend.” His father reminds Tyrion.

“Father could it not be held somewhere more neutral? I so want Myrcella to be able to attend.” You ask, looking at him pleadingly.

“I am sure once the new king comes into power, the Martells will not hold the same anger towards our family as they once did.” Tyrion reassures you, reaching across the small circular table to pat your hand.

Yes, because all who they hold anger towards will be dead. Jon thinks solemnly, guilt eating him alive.

“I will trust you then.” You say, before turning to Jon’s father. “Ser Arthur, are there any marital traditions that you would like us to observed for the wedding?”

He thinks for a moment, resting his hand on his chin, the dark stubble so like Jon’s but flecked with gray. “There are none that come to my mind at the moment, but I will think on it and if any return to me, I will inform you.”

“No bedding ceremony.” Jon says, he will fight for this, not only to spare you the brutality, but as an apology for the secrets he must keep.

“I will not argue with that.” You laugh, picking up two strawberries and handing one to him as you bite into the other one.

Jon takes it from you, his teeth breaking the delicate flesh, the sweet juice tasting like ash on his tongue.

The look upon Cersei Lannister’s face when his father steps into Highgarden’s Great Hall, is enough to make Jon forget why he is even standing before the royal family. His father wears a cloak of lilac, the white sword and falling star crossed in the center proudly displayed, Dawn strapped to his side. His curls are cleaned and styled, his beard trimmed, his armor and boots shining. When he takes a knee bowing his head to Tommen, Jon does the same, feeling a flicker of excitement when their knees hit the floor at the same time. Perfect synchronicity.

“Ser Arthur?” The startled exhale of his father’s name escapes Ser Jamie’s lips before he can stop it, his conflicted expression betraying far more than simply shock. There is grief, rage, longing, and confusion all whirling within Ser Jamie’s widened emerald eyes.

“My King, I have come to ask that you legitimize my son. I have brought the parchment signed by the septon that married myself and Lady Lyanna Stark. Jon is not a snow, he is a Dayne, my trueborn and only child.”

Tommen does not move, does not speak, he looks at Margaery who has her hand in her grandmother’s.

“Let us see this parchment.” Lady Tyrell says, holding a wizened hand out.

His father rises, and Jon does as well, watching as he delivers the paper to Lady Tyrell, who shares it with Margaery.

“You were thought dead Ser Dayne, why did you not return to King's Landing to take up in the service of your new king when my husband ascended to the throne?” Cersei asks, her jade eyes alight with rage, sparking like wildfire.

“I was badly injured at the Tower of Joy and was unable to make the journey for many years.”

“Unable to make the journey and to retrieve your son, it seems.” Cersei drawls, skimming the parchment, then handing it to Ser Jaime.

Jon can see how his hands shake, the color draining from his face.

“I was told Lord Stark treated him kindly, as if he were his own son, it was better for him to remain there than at the bedside of a nearly crippled man.” The shame that colors his tone clearly tugs on Tommen’s heartstrings.

He has not dared to think what his life would have been like if he had lived with his father. All he knows is he would not have met you, and he does not consider that much a life at all.

Tommen clears his throat, looking at Margaery once more, she nods.

“Ser Dayne, you swore an oath, Kingsguard cannot marry or have children.” Cersei cuts in, stepping forward, her head held high.

Jon bites his tongue hard. The irony in her statement…

His father fares better, nodding his head towards her, his tone steady. “I am no longer a whitecloak, I lost the right to that title when I aided Prince Rhaegar in stealing away my dear Lyanna. I am only a knight of the realm now, Queen Mother.”

Tommen goes to speak, surely in agreement with his mother, but Margaery puts her hand on his arm and leans down to whisper in his ear.

Jon tries not to fidget, tries not to look at you, you who sits beside your father, dressed in a well-tailored gown the shade of pomegranates, your hair swept away from your face, a golden pendant around your neck. He will ruin it all if he looks at you.

His father puts a hand on his shoulder, squeezing it reassuringly.

“In honor of my queen’s nameday I will grant her request. Ser Jon Snow, you shall no longer be a Snow, but a Dayne, Lord or Ser Jon, whichever you would like, of House Dayne, son of Ser Arthur Dayne the Sword of the Morning.” Tommen says, smiling brightly when Margaery plants a chaste kiss of thanks to his cheek.

His father gives his thanks, bowing low. Jon follows his example, keeping his expression grateful but neutral as they return to the sidelines, ducking behind the crowds of nobles as Tommen and Margaery begin to leave the hall. It is only when they have disappeared from view that his father embraces him, crushing him to his chest.

Jon returns the embrace, joy running wild through him.

His father pulls back, a wide smile on his tanned face. “My son, oh, it is good to say that aloud, to say it where anyone can hear. We must celebrate, do you have a preference for wine? ”

“No, Father.” Jon tests the word out, rolling it on his tongue, it feels strange but pleasant. “I do not.”

His father smiles. “We shall soon fix that, but first, you must return to your duties, no?” He jerks his head towards you.

Jon nods. “I must.”

TL: @mostclevermiss, @solacestyles, @2valentines, @sharknutz, @idohknow, @bdudette, @pluraldoggo, @legolastheleafyelf, @faerie-film, @wifiatthetrainstation, @duskypinki, @tartine-de-pain

[uzuitengensfourthwife]

Unbearable - Kuroo x (fem) Reader

Summary: Kuroo was UNBEARABLE. No matter the occasion, he always annoyed you and made sure your blood was boiling.

Wordcount: 2219

Warning: Swearwords, otherwise none, besides my bad writing! So enjoy!

Authors note: Soo.. it was definitely time for me to do something with Kuroo as well! I feel like some parts were terribly rushed, however I hope you enjoy it anyways!

A year ago, when you started with Uni, you and your friends found yourselves within a friend group of 6 people. Quite unfortunately tho, Tetsuro Kuroo was part of your friend group as well. The day you've met up until now, he's been nothing but an annoying brat. He did everything in his power to make your blood boil the second he sees you. Be it in a lecture or when you guys hung out with your other friends. Whenever he was close to you, nothing could stop him from annoying the shit out of you.

And this has pretty much held on for the whole year you've known each other. The others seemed to enjoy themselves whenever you two were in the same room, but every remark that came out of his mouth brought you one step closer to punching him in the face.

And today, where you all gathered to get ready for a party together, he made sure to rile you up real good once more.

"Give it back you fucker." you hissed, trying to grab your lipstick from his hand. He ,however, decided to hold the lipstick above his head, grinning down on you. "Too small to get it?" He stuck out his tongue, waving your lipstick around in front of your face. This time, you were fast enough to grab it and to kick his knee, earning yourself quite the painful sigh from Kuroo. You grinned at him, acknowledging your win. "That fucking hurt!" - "Good." You replied, walking past him to finish your make up in front of a mirror.

"You two finished trying to kill each other? We kinda got somewhere to be." A friend of yours asked the both of you, chuckling. "Let's go before they start fighting again." Another friend exclaimed loudly, already opening the door to indicate that you should finally leave to get there on time. And so you did.

Your friends obviously tried to keep you and Kuroo apart, so you wouldn't delay your arrival by an unknowing amount of time. Fortunately for your friends, it worked and you appeared on time for the party.

The party was already quite lively, which made you really stoked. And it wasn't quite a surprise when you've found yourself an occupation shortly after your arrival at the party. It was a guy from your lecture, who actually looked pretty cute. So you definitely didn't mind when he came over to talk to you.

While you were talking to this nice guy from your lecture, you felt someone staring at you from the kitchen, where drinks were made. Yet, you still tried not to pay the staring gal any attention.

"Not to be rude but... du you know him?" - "Huh..?" You looked back, just to be greeted by Kuroo, who seemed to be staring holes in to your back. However, once he realized you were looking at him as well, he made his way towards the two of you. "Hey, think your shirt's dirty." Kuroo said, pointing at the guys shirt, placing himself right behind you. "Huh.. what do you me-" but before the guy was able to talk, Kuroo poured his drink over the guys shirt, which led to a bright red stain on the guys shirt. "Right there." - "What the hell!?" the guy yelled, looking up to Kuroo, who had a grin plastered on his face. The guy, who no longer seemed interested in you, turned around and left, while cursing out loud about Kuroo. He, however, seemed to have found quite the joy from this situation.

"What the hell was that about?" You asked him in a demanding tone. "What? His shirt was dirty." Kuroo shrugged, while looking at you with an unserious expression. You groaned, quite agitated from the little stunt he pulled. Whatever, you thought. "You should be more careful you know?" - "What do you mean?" Without even answering you, he pointed towards your drink. You looked at your drink, while realizing that the guy from before had dropped some pills into your drink, probably while you were looking at Kuroo. "Fuck..." you whispered quietly.

"You're welcome." He grinned, grabbing the drink from your hand, just to pour it in a trash can. "Yeah thanks I guess... you're free to go now." You said, rolling your eyes. "Sure you're able to fend on your own?" - "Yes Kuroo." And with that, you left him standing, there, trying to find yourself another occupation within the party.

You talked to some friends, then to some strangers, but nothing seemed to really interest you.

So, after some time walking around the party, you got quite bored of what was inside. Which is why you decided to go outside to get some fresh air. You immediately walked towards a bench that was close to the house, sitting down all by yourself before looking up to the sky. While observing the stars, your thoughts went back to Kuroo, who before, saved your ass from quite a horrible fate you had almost encountered. You sighed out loud, thanking god that Kuroo was there, before anything bad could happen. Now that you were outside, you realized how much more relaxing it was outside than in there, just quiet and peace.

You wanted to get up again, before you suddenly heard two guys talking, not far behind from you. You tensed up, yet, you decided to just be quiet and try not to listen to their conversation.

Howevere, when you heard Kuroo and you being mentioned, you felt like you were justified to listen to their conversation

"Fucking Kuroo..."

"He's so fucking annoying dude."

They sounded awfully agitated to you, which, honestly? You understood, considering you had to put up with Kuroo's shit almost everyday.

"I couldn't even get to Y/n for fucks sake..."

"I know. He's been glaring at us whenever we even tried to get close to her..."

"They're not dating tho, right?"

"Nah bro. But he has a huge crush on her. It’s so fucking obvious.”

"Damn… prolly just too scared to ask her out then… fuck it’s cold... let's get inside."

And with them leaving to go inside again, you were left there dumbfounded. What the hell did you just hear? There is no way that this was true.. right? There was just no way Kuroo had a crush on you. Not after all the things he did. No way. But then again, you had no clue if what these guys said was false. Or maybe they just misinterpreted the way Kuroo acted towards you and them.

Yet, you weren't really sure what to do or how to react really. All you did know though, was that you were going to try and avoid Kuroo as much as you were able to.

That's exactly what you did. You avoided Kuroo like your life depended on it. Whenever your friends tried to hang out together, you didn't appear, unless Kuroo wasn't there. In lectures you sat as far away from him as possible, even if it meant that you had to sit alone during some lectures. You did everything in your power to avoid him and it definitely worked for a week straight.

Until he decided himself, that he had enough of your childish bullshit. It was a quite uneventful Monday, where you tried to avoid Kuroo, just like you did the past week. After your last lecture, you decided you’d go to a café close to your Dorm, so you could pass some time there. As you were about to leave the building, you saw Kuroo standing right next to the exit. Without giving it a second thought, you did a 180 and immediately went the other way. But it was no use, because Kuroo had seen you turn around and walk away from him.

It was no use after all, because quite unfortunate for you, Kuroo was faster than you. So, right before you were able to run out another exit, he grabbed your wrist, pulling you back to him. “You’ve been avoiding me.” He pointed out, making sure you weren’t able to run away from him. “Ugh… no… I’ve just got an appointment…!” You lied, nervously smiling at him. To your reply, he raised an eyebrow, seemingly not convinced of your lie. “Uh huh. And that’s why ran away from me?” - “I wasn’t running away from you..! I just realised I was.. going the wrong way.” You argued back, finger pointing at the door you were about to exit. A sigh escaped his mouth, while he rubbing his temple in an annoying manner. “Yuki’s hosting a dinner tonight. Are you joining? “ - “No.. no I’m afraid not..” you replied quietly, looking away.

He then let go of you and without even saying anything else to you, he left. You watched him walk down the hallway, letting out a sigh of relief.

—

You felt bad for not joining Yuki’s dinner tonight, but you just couldn’t face Kuroo at the moment. A sigh escaped your lips as you sat down on the couch of your dorm, tunring on the TV to watch some lame series. While watching the series, you thought of the night of the party again, remembering the two guys who you heard talking about Kuroo and you. It felt as if you still heard them talking.

He has a huge crush on her. It’s so fucking obvious.

There was no way Kuroo had a crush on you. You were sure there was another reason he glared at them, probably just to prevent you from getting hurt, since you almost got drugged at the party… right? Yeah, that must’ve been it, because the way Kuroo acted towards you would indicate everything ,but him having a crush on you. You laughed to yourself, imagining how insanely silly it would be if Kuroo Tetsuroo had a crush on you. You bit your lip, turning off your TV, groaning to yourself.

Wait. Were you disappointed… that he might not have a crush on you? God no. You hated his guts, especially when he got on your nerves. And most definitely when he made fun of you. You hated him, you knew. Or… did you really?

You were about to scream out loud, when the doorbell rang out of the sudden. Getting up, with a visibly confused expression on your face, you made your way to the door. You weren’t expecting anyone. At least, you dont remember inviiting anyone over. So when you opened the door and Kuroo was standing in front of you, you almost passed out on the spot. Your first instinct was to just slam the door in his face, which did not end up quite as successful as you thought it would be.

Oh no, he held the door open by force. “You’re really driving me nuts, Y/n.” he hissed, making his way inside your dorm, slamming the door shut behind him. “What the hell?!” You yelled, seemingly confused why he was here in the first place.

“Oh you have nothing to be mad about.” He snapped, while walking dangerously close to you. “You’re fucking killing me Y/n.” You took a few steps back until you suddenly felt the door behind you. He did not back off, quite the opposite, he camee just as close as he was able to get without completley pressing you against the door. “What are you on about Kuroo…?” - “Quit toeing with my emotions, love. You sure can’t be that oblivious.” A soft, yet dangerous chuckle escaped his lips while he hovered above you. “You’re driving me crazy, and you sure as hell made it worse by trying to avoid me all week.”

This, had to be dream. There is no way in hell that this was just hapenening to you. You quietly looked up to him, not really knowing how to answer him.

You thought of something you could say to him, but he left you no time, when he crashed his lips onto yours. As if it was your second nature, your arms wrapped around him, pulling him closer to you. His hands moved to your waist, trying to get you even closer than you already were. The kiss deepened within seconds and you could swear, you’ve never experienced something as sensual at this.

Once he pulled away from you, he grinned down at you like an idiot who had just won the lottery. Your face on the other hand, flushed red. “Awe look at you, are we getting shy?” He mocked, placing a short kiss on your lips. “Oh shut up you idiot.” You said, slightly hitting his chest which lead to him pretending you hurt his poor feelings.

“So… I heard you had a crush on me?” - “Well, obviously my dear. I’m just quite surprised you never noticed.” He answered slyly, squeezing your sides. You shook your head, replying to his comment. “Well you surely annoyed the shit out of me!” - “And that’s exactly what I thought would make it obvious.”

You roll your eyes, yet you had the biggest grin on your face. As he was about to make a remark, you shut him up by pulling him into another kiss.

Kuroo wasn’t as unbearable as you thought after all.

[sixxteenbullets]

HIDDEN AWAY-

Saw smth the other day and I can't stop thinking about it.

Pairing: Henry Bowers x fem!innocent!reader

Warnings: u and Henry getting walked in on by Patrick, being watched doin yk, swearing, sexual themes.

______

HENRY Bowers had a girl that was the opposite of him. She was a kind, sweet soul and he wanted to keep her that way. He knew exactly who he was and who his friends were, so to keep up with his goal, he needed her to stay away from his friends. The issue sounded easy to defeat, if his friends were normal.

Two boys, Belch and Vic, he trusted enough to stay away from her. After all, they weren't really ever interested in defying Henry. Though, Patrick was a piece of work. As much as he loved innocence, he loved pushing limits. He was tall, obsessed with pyro, and a sadist to the bone. That was exactly the kind of person Henry needed his girl to stay away from. Someone who could tear away her joy, make her sad and scared, and strip her of her kindness, turning her timid and quiet. He'd seen her that way once, during a bad fight, and he swore to keep her from those feelings for as long as he could. Only he could break her down.

"Hey Hen," Y/n smiled at him, her white teeth shining as bright as ever. "You called."

"Old man ain't gonna be home tonight," He pushed himself off of his bed and sauntered over to her. "Was thinking you could stay?"

She didn't have an ideal home life, either. She wasn't beat, like Henry, and she still had both of her parents, but they were mean. Driven by religion, the girl didn't get to choose her own path very often, and a lot of her decisions were made for her. That was part of why she kept her innocence. There was nothing she could do to break it.

"Yeah, totally." She walked closer to him, meeting him in the middle of his room, and wrapped her arms around his neck. His arms looked around her waist and they were pulled flush against each other. As their lips met, a bubbly giggle escaped her throat and she smiled against his mouth. His face remained straight, but the sound of her giddiness woke such a fierce happiness within him, it was hard to keep from giggling back at her.

"So what do you want to do tonight?" A mere whisper, barely audible. His eyes widened slightly as they met the ones that stared up at him. She never spoke like this. It was just a simple question, but there was a passion behind her words that she never had before. They had been dating for a month, and she typically pushed away his sexual advances, so when she made her own, he knew this was not something to pass up.

His hands ever so slightly lowered on her waist, resting on the peak of her butt. When she put up no objections, they lowered and he gave a small squeeze, which triggered another giggle. Just as he was about to say something suggestive, her lips crashed into his open mouth, and their tongues danced in harmony for a minute before he pulled away for a breath.

Her head leaned up to follow him, objecting to the end of their kiss, but she soon realized her own lack of breath. "What are you doing?"

"I want you." There was absolutely no sign of hesitation in her voice. Every bit of every word dripped with a lust that sounded foreign on her tongue. "Every inch."

He had heard enough. He had been waiting for over a month to hear her ask for him. To finally give herself to him.

Every fiber of his being itched to go fast, to shove her onto his bed and hear her screams as she cried his name. To hear the innocence dissolve from her voice, and only a sinful, whimpering cry would be left. But he didn't think she would like that just yet, so he willed his body to go slow, to pace himself and be gentle as he stole something sacred from her.

"I want you to be rough. Show me every side of you tonight. The good the bad and the parts you never let anyone see. You can have my body if I can have your soul." She always did that. Talk in poetic speeches, using grammer he's completely stranger to. And he loved it just as much as he loved seeing the passion in her eyes as every word spoke it's truth.

They were on the bed in no time, and her request rang through his ears. She wanted everything. And he would give her his life if he could.

Two shirts were thrown on the floor, one pair of pants, and one pair of shorts. Two half naked bodies desperately grinded into each other, craving release from the heat in their cores. Legs intertwined just as fingers did and the two eventually became one. One drawn out moan, one long kiss, one burning desire.

There was something artistic about the way two humans behaved in times of desperation. The way she would whimper and gasp when a particularly sensitive part of her body was touched, and he would see this and use it to his advantage. The way his mouth would open in a silent moan as she rubbed against him, creating a friction they'd never get enough of. Even with underwear on, they behaved wildly, leaving no room for any matter to interfere.

Somewhere in their passion, a door, forgotten to be locked, creaked open to reveal a few rather shocked faces. Not shocked to see their friend with a girl, but shocked to see him with a girl such as Y/n. Especially shocked that a girl like her didn't wear little pink cotton panties, but adorned a black lace thong instead.

The bigger male and the blond turned away, obviously not wanting to get their asses beat for the intrusion. But Patrick stayed for a minute. His eyes traced every inch of her body, and once he had seen enough, a low whistle escaped him.

The two on the bed jumped, and just as quickly as she threw herself down, he had an arm around her and held her close. She stayed pressed against her boyfriend, trying to hide her flushed face and body from the mischievous boy who stood watching her.

"When your done having your fun, why don't ya' let me take her for a ride?" A sickening laugh faded into a room with three emotions only. Arousal, fear, and pure fucking rage. That arousal faded from Patrick when he saw the expression that adorned his friend's face.

"Get the fuck out of here, Hockstetter, or I'll kill you right here." There was a malice in Henry's voice that he'd never heard before. A spark in his eye, a snarl in his lip, and a clenched fist that showed truth in every word he spoke.

If Patrick didn't stop staring at Henry's girl, he would be a dead man and a tortured soul.

So he ducked out of the room and approached the two other members of their gang, shaken and annoyed, completely unwilling to tell the story of the scariest moment of his life.

Henry considered chasing after his friend, showing him how absolutely enraged he felt that his angel felt unsafe. But once he thought back to her, and felt her shivering from his arms, she was his main priority. He pulled her flush against him, not sexually anymore, just possessively. His arms encircled her and she wanted to completely fade into him.

Sobs racked her body. She'd heard horror stories of the boy and his disgusting acts on not only girls, but just others in general. So, when he said he wanted to take her for a ride, terror crept throughout every crevice of her body. Not only did she fear him, but she was absolutely humiliated. Another boy has seen her half naked, not to mention the vulnerable situation she was in.

After a second of silence, she was able to make out a few muffle words against his chest. "Please don't let him take me."

"No one will ever touch you. You're mine, and he knows that now. I'm gonna keep you hidden away from all that shit."

[dfortrafalgar]

I'm Losing You

Having a family isn't always as easy as fairy tales make it seem.

Warnings: i'm going to say it on every chapter. READ THE WARNINGS ON CHAPTER 1!!!!!

Also, I am officially opening up a tag list for readers who are interested in updates. If you are interested, either respond to a chapter, DM me, or send an ask and I will add you to the list.

I'm eventually going to make a masterlist for this fic, but that won't be until it's completely finished.

Taglist: @phsycochan

Chapter 4

[Prev] [Next]

Saturday morning.

Law was woken up at 3:30 AM from his hospital pager calling him in as quickly as possible for an active aortic aneurysm.  You had woken up from how quickly he jumped out of bed, but fell back asleep just as rapidly, getting to sleep in as you had weekends off.  When you did wake up, however, you were nervous.

You were tracking.  

You were supposed to get your period 10 days ago.

Bepo didn’t seem to need to go out that urgently, so you quickly fed him before retreating to the bathroom, digging through the medicine drawers for your abundance of at-home pregnancy tests that Law insisted on keeping.  Your hands were shaking as you unboxed the familiar white stick before performing the test.

You washed your hands and waited for the test to come back.

You wanted to leave and make yourself breakfast, anything to distract you from the turmoil of waiting, but your feet simply refused to move from their spot.  The only sound in your head was the pounding of your own heart, the only reminder that you were even still alive.

One minute passed.

Then two minutes.

Then three.

Was the world still turning?  Were you still breathing?

You blinked once.  Then twice.

You reached a shaky hand forward and picked up the test, gazing at the result window.

—

Law remained on call, but was able to return home after the aneurysm operation.  He opened the door to see you standing there, a bright smile on your face.  He had barely taken off his jacket when you thrust a white stick in his face.

His stomach dropped.

“Law…” you whispered, your face growing more and more excited.

“It’s…” he uttered back, golden eyes wide with exasperation.

Two thin red lines displayed in the result window.

You barely had time to register his reaction when Law scooped you off of your feet, spinning you in his arms.  You squealed at the sensation, gripping his shoulders tightly as Bepo sprung to his feet and barked at the display.  You were placed back down, Law stabilizing you by your arms.  His cheeks were flushed, his eyes blown wide.

“It’s actually… is it actually…?” he asked, winded.  Even he could barely believe his eyes.

“It’s positive, Law…” you whispered back, your own disbelief was palpable, but your joy was radiating from your body in waves.  You flung your arms around his neck, laughing into his shoulder.  Law held you around your hips, the smile on his face comparable to his smiles from your wedding night.

It was positive.

It was positive.

“Law… what do we do now?” you asked, still gripping the test.  You couldn’t tear your eyes away from the two thin red lines on the display, as if you were still coming to terms with reality.  You were pregnant.

“I… I honestly don’t know…” he responded, equally dumbstruck.  

You both had sex around three times within the past two weeks, so it definitely happened some time then.  Regardless, you beamed.  “I just… can’t believe it.  Almost eight months…”

Law pulled you toward the couch in your shared living area, sitting you down next to him and holding you close.  There were so many words he wanted to say, so many expressions of sheer delight and excitement at the sudden success of your shared efforts, but all he managed to say was, “I’m gonna be a dad…”

You laughed, both out of nerves and elation as you added, “I’m gonna be a mom…”

The two of you stared at each other for what felt like an eternity before bursting into a shared fit of giggles.  Bepo hopped up onto the couch next to you, shoving his head into your shoulder and forcing you to turn your attention to him to pet and kiss his head.

“Bepo, you’re gonna be a big brother!” you cheered.  The dog’s pink tongue was hanging out of his muzzle, like he was smiling just as bright as you and Law were.

Law wanted to shout it from the rooftops.  He wanted the entire universe to know.  But for your sake, and for the sake of Bepo’s sensitive ears, he kept his words contained within the walls of your apartment.

“We did it…”

[raconteur-wanpi]

ONE PIECE 1123

Dear lord I have so many thoughts I don't even know where to begin. This was a pretty short and lower stakes chapter compared to all the chaos and the bombs that came before it, but I think despite that, it gave me more revelations and thoughts than some of those ones did. It's all vague stuff like, it's soup in my brain but it just keeps getting more interesting.

Starting off with S-Snake continuously showcasing normal human behavior. I really like the insistence of the story of honing in that the Seraphim are, in fact, people. They are children. Their existence is horrific and it IS supposed to make you feel uneasy, especially comparing them to the rest of MADS' history of experiments. I do think, in a story about freedom, that these authority-chip-ridden-kids will eventually seek out their own freedom and independence to be people instead of weapons. Alber himself was a victim of MADS' experimentation, so was Kuma, Sanji, Mocha, every victim of the Smile fruits, hell- Bonney was a victim of the science of the Gorosei / Saturn. It's very interesting to continuously see Stella's role in all of this, and how Oda showcases that you could put the nicest guy alive into the same system as the most wretched monsters, and they will produce the same results. Which does bring me to this realization moving forward:

Sanji is in fact the person that was closest to the events of Vegapunk's death. He is specifically chosen out of all the strawhats to be the one to grapple with Vegapunks decision and sacrifice, and he is the only member of the strawhats to have experienced the horrors of MADS firsthand. I find that very interesting, it's looking at that dilemma of morality again. How do you judge a person who has spent years creating weapons of war, even if it's been the result of his naivete? How does a person who realizes what he has done, redeem himself? Death? Sacrifice? Admitting you can only throw your life away to undo the damage, to the face of someone who you know understands the horrors of such science? I don't know, it's interesting.

Going back a bit however, I think my favorite page in the chapter, is this. My god. Luffy thanking Emeth, full of joy, smile across his face in his Nika form, juxtaposed to the Iron Giant's dark unresponsive face. It's so moving and joyful and sad, genuinely. The brightness of the sun against the shadow of a sacrifice. Emeth in his "death" looks somehow both content and saddened. Luffy's recognition and gratitude towards him. OK. I'm fine. Damn.

Back to Vegapunk, this has been wild to see said textually when I've seen many people, myself included, discuss it. "Evil" and "Greed" being the two things Stella ended up leaving behind, despite his best efforts to do good. He recognizes greed was his downfall, his desire to continue building and discovering, without thinking about the consequences of it; just what we discussed earlier. It's also interesting that they all suspected Lilith at first, but she turned out not only to be innocent, but also a valuable ally in the battle and the only other survivor. Lilith leaving the garden, Stella being the forbidden apple (of knowledge) that brought about the downfall, the Gorosei being demonic entities that entered that space, it definitely is all very biblical. I wonder if Lilith will see a path towards becoming a more complete person, rather than, as Stella says here, a compartmentalized personification of "Evil". Similar to what I hoped for earlier with the Seraphim and Kuma (or even the Vinsmokes if you want to go there), a manifestation of full (rather than artificially partial or removed) personhood.

This is something I've been thinking about the entire time as well! Is Vegapunk really dead? Is it just his body? What does it mean to be able to keep your consciousness separate from said body? Within other people, even? Is he really dead as long Lilith and York are around? Is Stella himself, still in there, in Punk Records? Could you bring him back? Much to think about.

Aaaand closing in with my second favorite moment from this chapter. The confirmation we're going to Elbaf! Usopp being help up by the giants! His arc begins! I am so so giddy. I know I'm biased considering he's, well, my favorite One Piece character but, god. I am as nervous as hyped. I am so, so excited. This is delightful, he deserves this!

[princess-tulip-writes]

A rose in a bed of thorns• cassian/eris/rhysand x reader

Genre: smut

Summary: Eris is a cruel, possessive male with a bad reputation but for you, he’s do anything to make you happy— even if that means letting his two sworn enemies fuck you.

A/n: i felt so dirty writing this 😫 and I dedicate this slutty work of art to my bestie and sis-in-law, @redbleedingrose for her birthday. Happy birthday pretty girl, I love you 💋 and cherish our friendship. (I also made the text pink for you bookie)

“Are you sure that you’re okay with this?” 

Eris’ eyes roamed over the full Illyrian male once more, taking in the sculpted muscles of his body for the fifth time that night. The male was mesmerizing, irritatingly so, but Eris wasn’t checking him out because of his beauty– but because of yours. 

He had to keep making sure that you would only get the best, the most handsome males and females of Prythian, to fuck you. His darling little mate would never need to settle for less, and since Illyrian didn’t fall under the ‘filth’ category for you, he would just have to look past their reputation just to see that smile on your face. He never understood your taste, Illyrian’s were disgusting, fowl bastards that were created for nothing more than battle, but you seemed to drool over them. 

Well, not all of the bat-like beings; just two. 

He took in a sharp breath, praying you didn’t notice it, as his eyes shifted back to his high lady. Even now, in the lighting of a court that is foreign to his own, you looked absolutely breathtaking. Your eyes were as bright as the stars above you, twinkling with hope and elation as your pupils found him. You were incredibly excited for tonight, the anticipation from the years of built up longing had ignited a fire in your veins that only your mate had ever lit and you were very interested in what it would be like to be filled by the cocks of Prythian’s strongest males. You’ve heard dozens of stories about their bedding habits, how they fuck like gods and treat their lovers like the finest gold, and it had always left you wanting more than a few flirty glances. Your skin glowed with joy the moment Eris told you of your birthday gift, one of many you assume, and the sparkle in your eye hadn’t left since. 

Eris took your hand in his, and brought it to his lips, placing a soft kiss to your knuckles. 

“I want you to be happy, my love. This is a one time opportunity, don’t waste it worrying about me.” 

Unhappy with his answer and the way he avoided the question, you narrowed your eyes at him slightly. “That wasn’t what I asked.” 

His brows furrowed as he glanced at the two males awaiting on the bed across the room from you both, smirks on their faces as they practically tore your dress off with their hungry eyes. Rhysand’s violet orbs slowly dragged his gaze along every inch of you, taking in every curve and shape of you attentively, engraving your clothed body in his mind before fucking you silly. Tonight was a night he and his brother would be sure to remember, and he wanted to savor every blissful moment before you both went back to your lives. His brother, Cassian, on the other hand, was admiring your giving figure, in absolute awe of this reality as you stood with your back facing him. His tongue darted from his mouth to wet his lips as you smiled softly to your mate, and his palms suddenly felt sweaty and his pants too tight. You were such a sweetheart, so gentle and kind always, even to such a prick like Eris. Cassian never understood why the Cauldron fated you with the son of autumn, you were like a bright star that would shine beautifully at the night court, but it wasn’t your fault. Perhaps you had a dark spot, one that no one but your mate and you knew about. Deciding not the think too much about it and ruin the perfect image of you he had created, he shook that theory off and blamed fate instead as you turned away from the male and faced the two Illyrians with a flushed smile. 

“Um,” you hummed, eyes darting between the two large males excitedly. “So who wants to go first?” 

The clicking of your mate’s tongue caused your head to whip back in his direction, only to find him smirking wildly down at you, a slender finger held up to you. 

“Ah, ah, my little dove.” he poked your nose softly, a sweet gesture that you knew was teasing. “You think that just because I’m not fucking you tonight that you get to be in charge?” a dry, humorless laugh left his throat. “That’s really fucking cute.” 

– 

“Oh fuck! Right there, please!” 

A breathy chuckle sounded from Cassian as he bucked his hips into your cunt rapidly, a wide grin plastered on his face at your shaking legs and gaped face. It was the result of his harsh thrusts to your g-spot nonstop for the past twenty minutes, ripping orgasm after orgasm out of you until your voice turned hoarse from screaming his name. Your toes cramped from tightly curling all night but you couldn’t find it in you to care as your cunt was being fucked so good. 

“Is he fucking you good, bunny? Making my pussy feel good?” Eris cooed at you, his warm hand combing through your hair to soothe you and bring your attention to him; right where it belongs. 

You let out a huff of air as Cassian’s thumb found your clit and rubbed it in fast circles, causing your back to arch against Eris’ chest and your pussy to pulse around his cock, just like he had already made it do a dozen times tonight. 

As your mate caught sight of your glazed over eyes and heaving chest, his brow raised in question, obviously a reminder for you to take if you paid close enough attention. But when instead, your eyes rolled back and a silent scream fell from your lips, he knew the words weren’t going to tumble out of your mouth any time soon. 

His flameful gaze flickered to the massive general between your legs, dark and lustful and filled with dominance as he glared up at Cassian. 

“Stop fucking her.” 

Eris’ voice was stern, but the look on his face gave away just how much this mattered to him– how much the power over you mattered to him. His brows lowered over his eyes in a dark manner as fire ignited in his eyes, almost turning them into a feral gold. The clenched teeth and flexed jaw didn’t go unnoticed by any of the males as their attention turned to him. 

For a moment, Cassian hesitated, continuing his assault on your pussy as you came without permission on his cock. Approval of your orgasm didn’t matter to him, you were meant to enjoy yourself tonight, let loose before the night and autumn court become strangers again. He wasn’t going to waste your time edging you when he could be pulling countless pleasure out of you instead, and the tightening feeling of your cunt around his cock was just a bonus of your overstimulated state. But, Eris seemed to have cared tons, because every extra thrust sent inside of you earned a harsh glare from your mate until finally, he annoyed Cassian enough to obey. 

His cock still inside of the warm walls of your pulsating cunt, the tip resting just right against your cervix as you both caught your breaths and regained your senses under the eyes of two high lords. 

“Why’d you make me stop, you prick?” 

There were a million insults that the red head thought to have fired back at the Illyrian, all of which involved his upbringing, but the way your hand gripped his grounded him to stay civil for now. You know, since the male  was still inside of you and could very well snatch you as quick as he could say ‘fuck you, Vanserra.’ 

“Because someone,” Eris looked back down at your fucked out face in disapproval before squishing your cheeks together roughly, then leaning down until your noses touched and his eyes bored into yours. “Seemed to have forgotten her godsdamned manners. Haven’t you, slut?” 

You felt small underneath his hard glare and the words stopped in your throat as you thought of  a proper response. 

Your silence left Eris to grow impatient, causing him to raise a brow at you and squish your cheeks harder. When you squeaked softly in pain, Rhysand was quick to sit up in case you were in any need of protection. Killing Eris Vanserra never sounded like a bad idea to him, or any of his family, if it weren’t for the disastrous war it would cause,  but for you? He would do it without any second thought. 

“Answer me, slut, or have you gone so dumb that you can’t even form a sentence?” 

You swallowed thick and tried to shake your head underneath his firm hand. 

“N-no, sir. I-i’m sorry, i-” 

“You’re sorry for what, my greedy whore?” Eris hissed. 

Rhysand and Cassian both shared a glance as the velvet haired male insulted you, sitting up instinctively and furrowing their brows tightly out of rage and concern for you. It wasn’t uncommon for Cassian to get protective of females, especially from a male’s offensive comments and treatment, but this time, Rhys swore it felt different. He couldn’t lie, though, and say he didn’t feel the same way his brother most likely was, it enraged him to hear such degrading words thrown at such an angel like you. 

“You’re being too harsh, go easier on her.” the general interjected, his wings puffing out ever so slightly for preparation in case of a possible conflict. Things were always unpredictable with the Vanserra’s,the brothers would know better than anyone. 

“I agree, brother, stars like this one do not deserve such fowl words to be thrown at her. If she were mine-” 

The eldest Vanserra snarled as he whipped his head toward the Illyrian’s resting against the head board, giving him glares sharp enough to kill. He shook them off as he stared into violet irises. 

“But she is not, therefore you will shut your mouth about how I speak to my high lady, unless I ask.” 

You felt smaller than a speck of dust when his eyes found your’s again, and this time he the glare was directed to you as he awaited your answer. 

“Fo-for cumming without asking first, sir.” you mumbled.

A smirk tugged at his lips, his grip loosening on your cheeks as he placed a soft kiss to your nose after finally hearing what he wanted all alone. 

“Good girl.” he praised, proud that he had trained such a good whore for him to show off. His finger trailed along your jaw softly as your breathing slowed and calmed down under his gentle touch, the touch of your favorite lover. “Now, do you think you could be extra good and take Rhysand’s cock now for me?” 

Although his words were sweet and encouraging, the tone in which he spoke held a completely different meaning, one you knew all too well. He wasn’t asking you if you could handle another fuck, no, the way his lips upturned and his voice mocked you made that clear to you. To someone who wasn’t in his bed every night, this would seem like a sweet interaction between too connected souls but with you and eris, it was different; more like a master with his puppy. 

“Y-yes, sir.” 

Your choked out answer satisfied your mate enough to widen his smirk into a grin. 

“Good girl.” 

His hands traveled down your body and rested on your limp hands, picking them up off the mattress and holding them in his own before he nodded to Cassian in dismissal. 

“You’re finished.” He said to the Illyrian moments before the larger male pulled out. 

Rhysand smiled coyly as his brother flopped down next to him, flashing him a wink then scotting to the edge of the bed where your pussy was presented to him, oozing out cum like a little dispenser. 

“Are you ready for me, beautiful?” the high lord muttered as he aligned his cock with your entrance, hovering over you despite your mate’s protests from the top of you. It was easy to remind himself how little effort it would take to shatter Eris’ mind that moment, but the way your eyes sparkled up at him refrained him from doing so. 

You smiled tiredly, yet excited, in response before nodding. 

Rhysand’s lips ghosted your cheek, a raspy chuckle leaving his throat and tickling your mind as the tip of his cock nudged at your swollen clit. The teasing action caused you to gasp and your thighs to instinctively shut around his hips, but he was quick to spread them back open. 

A grin played out on the high lord’s lips before he placed a kiss to the side of your lips, causing your mate to snarl and his grip on your hands tighten, before sliding the head of his cock down to your leaking entrance and slipping in slowly. 

You both made sounds of your own at the first stroke, a growl from him and a whine came from you, and you could feel everything as he pushed himself inside of you. The thick veins of his cock felt accentuated, as if you could feel the thunderous heart beats from your cunt with each second that passed as he stilled to allow you to stretch for him. 

“You,” he sighed blissfully. “Feel fucking exquisite, little one.”  a small growl ended his sentence as you clenched around his cock from the compliment. 

Although you were plenty used to hearing about how amazing you feel, mostly from Eris, the phrase sounded sexier and more genuine coming from Rhysand; the most powerful high lord that was currently balls deep inside of your walls. Your crush on him had begun even before you met Eris, years prior to the bond was countless weeks of mutual pining from the both of you, and if it wasn’t for your father’s disapproval of the high lord, you would have already been imprinted by his cock years ago. 

Not that you were complaining though, Eris gave you plenty enough pleasure to make you forget all about your little crush and feel more than satisfied with him. But, you couldn’t deny the way that your stomach jumped whenever his violet eyes found your’s in a crowded ball room or the way your mouth watered when he pretended to be cruel to his subjects. 

But it was all just lust, nothing more, nothing less. 

“Doesn’t she? Her cunt is like a slice of paradise.” Eris agreed. 

There was a twinkle in his eyes as he spoke, causing your brow to furrow in curiosity. 

“Fuck– your cunt is so tight, darling.” Rhys growled before nipping at your neck harshly, expelling a loud whine from the chambers of your lungs. 

The knot in your stomach kept getting tighter and tighter after each stroke of Rhys’ cock, and the way he looked above you, so full of pleasure and absolutely in awe of the female beneath him, made your cunt clench around his thick cock every time you looked up at him. You could feel your orgasm quickly approaching from just his cock, but when he dared to roll his thumb over your perked nipple, you were gone. 

Your toes cutrled tightly, as your legs began to shake and your chest heaved, you felt the familiar sensation of a mist coat over your thoughts, making you focus on nothing but the pleasure that Rhysand was generously giving you. Thankfully for you thought, this time you managed to scream out the correct words before even trying to let go yet. 

“Please, fuck, please, can I cum?” 

Eris let out a low chuckle at your begging; the begging only he got to hear nightly, no matter who fucked you. “Yes, my little slut, cum for me on his cock. Be a good whore and show Rhysand how pretty you look when you cum with your husband’s permission.” 

Once your permission was granted, you stopped holding yourself back from climaxing and creamed on the half-illyrian’s cock with shaking legs and a loud scream of his name. Rhysand couldn’t stop himself from finishing inside of you himself, especially after the heavenly sight of the most beautiful female in Prythian crumbling underneath him and the intense but euphoria of the tight clenching of your sopping, wet pussy around his dick. Of course this was fantasy he had thought of plenty of times, but never had he ever expected you to look so fucking devine when he made you climax. It was a sight the he would soon replay in his mind daily, and your’s too when he saw you next, as a reminder of how much you crave his cock, regardless of your hovering mate. 

His hot cum soon joined his brother’s in the walls of your dripping core with a roar that shook the bedroom, before he collapsed on your recovering body. His lips upturned as he placed slow openmouthed kisses to your neck and shoulder like a lover would. 

Oh, how he dreamed on every star to be your lover. 

It was a foolish thought that passed through him daily and ripped him apart from the inside, but it made him happier to imagine how much love he would give you if it were him instead with the string that tied your soul to his, if it were him instead that was granted you each morning in his bed, if it were him instead that you followed order for… if it were instead of that stobby, two-faced, piece of trash that you were fated to.

But the cards were laid out differently, and there was nothing either of you could about it. 

Eris leaned down and gave the tip of your nose a kiss, once, twice, before moving his lips down to your own, kissing you deeply as Rhysand caught his breath. 

A thought struck him suddenly, one so dangerous to ask but too special to let slip away before you left for good. It would be one hell of an offer, one he was sure you would agree with but knew the autumn court high lord would refuse angerly, not that Rhys was scared, Eris Vanserra had nothing on the king of night. Besides, lovers came to him, not the other way around. How would it look if he asked for you? He would look weak, like he lost his edge… 

But you were far more precious than his image to him, that was a risk he was willing to take. 

Swallowing his pride, he cleared his throat and let out a low whistle as Eris snarled for him the ‘get off’. Joining his brother on the bed, absolutely dazed out of his mind from your warmth, Rhysand chuckled lowly, causing giggles to leave your lips and make the other two males chuckle themselves. For the first time in years, he felt pure bliss radiate through him and pump joy into his bloodstream, and he decided this was a feeling he wanted to feel forever; with you.��

“We need to do this again.” 

[vicmillen]

I still can't believe that Wolfie is the companion of Wild at some point is pretty well known, but everyone ignores the possibility that this man will take one look at Time and go 'oh that's fierce deity!' Like both Wolfie and the fierce deity set+sword is available from amibo, whyyyy isn't there more of Wild knowing about the fierce deity?!

So I wrote something about it

Has a very short part two here, or read a combined version on ao3

****

Their newest addition keep staring at Time, and it's creeping him out. Sure the new Link, Wild, had tried to keep it secret, but unfortunately it's not working well.

It shouldn't be the scar, seeing as Wild himself sports plenty of his own. So it has to be about the marks, joy. Time sighs. He really hope the new guy won't make him deal with any more question about the marks.

And stop staring at him again, like he is right now.

Time turned and glared back in a fit of annoyance, and watch Wild drop his ladle into the pot with more glee than he would admit.

Sometimes, Time wonders about the nature of karma. Like right now, taking second watch with Wild. His petty reaction during dinner had instead piqued Wild's interest even more. Enough for the guy to volunteer second watch with him.

He resolutely ignored the other hero's occasional glance, and the too-bright too-round moon over head. Unfortunately one of the two is not content with being ignored, and moved to sit beside him.

Time sighed, and broke the silence first. "I assume you have questions for me?"

"No I just, uh, I want to apologize for earlier, " Wild hesitated for a bit, "I'm just curious."

Time waited, but Wild seemed lost in his thought and didn't continue. Curse it, now Time is the one curious.

"Curious about what, if I may ask?"

"Oh, about your marks," He gestures to his left cheek, "Isn't there two more stripes? I mean, you are the Fierce Deity right? I thought there's... more." He trailed off awkwardly as Time gives no response. "Right, forget that I asked. Sorry."

Time blinks. Tried to swallow. Blinked again when Wild started to look worried.

"How did you..."

(part2) (ao3)