#*cries motherly tears*

[strigital]

the evolution of Jaxine-Motoko Bryce aka V over the years since the game's release (so far!) 💜

now that's what you call a glow-up!

[getodrools]

You're round and heavy with another coddled baby, again... and the tot that was already a year old hanging on your hip was screaming, again... and finally, to add to such chaos, the third child that just turned four has now tripped, and is also now crying, again.

You sigh. Heavily. Again.

Even though Sukuna was resting, the pain throbbing in his chest annoys him out of nestled dreams — and the ruckus, "Shut him up. And you, get up, you're fine." Your husband grabs the collar of his son's shirt; twists the fabric around, and lifts him right up to his little feet with ease. His tiny limbs dangled at the short air time, but they went right to work soon as he plopped him down, watching how he mindlessly ran back into whatever adventure his little head could get into... But motherly eyes, mostly see how the freshly ironed Spiderman top now wrinkled and sagged around your little boy's body.

You went to shoot the grump slugging towards you a glare, but the obvious leak dribbling through hard peaks forces you to suck in your lips.

"You're... —"

"We both are." Sukuna waves an arm around as another pair reaches for the wailing chub lashing in your hands. He ignores how snot slobbered down his forearm in the process… But free from the baby, you glance down and also see that you are in fact, soaked with running milk too... Again.

The cries instinctively had your perk breasts stimulate an activation on cue... Used to it yourself, but seeing that big, grouchy man also leak just how you did, bewildered your thoughts! The multiple outcries must've sent Sukuna’s tender pecs to dampness and it was quite a sight for you.

“I didn't know you—”

The hiss Sukuna belches in the baby's face with fangs peaking out, a wrinkled nose, and curling lips force your hand to launch at his broad shoulder.

“Like an annoying mosquito.” His throat rumbles into a deep chuckle at the attempt.

You stick your nose up, “Be nice— and dont hold him like that!” You moved quick, forcing his arms to cushion out instead of holding the baby like a damn flimsy piece of paper in the air…

“He stopped that ugly crying, sweetheart. I think I'm doing something right,” Sukuna pecks at your forehead, feeling the heat rise against tender lips, “Go get washed up.” And you want to admire his stupid smug face, and that odd fatherly nature all the boys so seemed to find comfort in, but you couldn't help but huff.

“Why do they like you so much. I birthed them.”

“I too would listen to a man who has four arms and was titled the King of curses.” He had a point, but it felt much deeper than that… They truly loved their father, watching the youngest yawn out of tears and nuzzled to his chest—

“Ah! The little shit bit me.” Sukuna hisses again and you snort into a fit of laughter how the baby tried to latch itself on something he had no business hooking for…

It was chaos, again.

<– BACK: PINNED ⊹ ࣪ ˖ NEXT: MORE SUKUNA –>

[d-targaryenshoe]

Pinkish Clouds - Anthony Bridgerton

Word count: 1515

Summary: It is very precious to watch your husband take responsibility as a father, is it not?

As the first rays of sunlight streamed through the drapes, Y/n Bridgerton, wife of Anthony, stirred in your sumptuous bed. 

The soft linens, embroidered with intricate floral patterns, caressed your skin like the gentle touch of a spring breeze. The scent of lavender filled your nostrils, a welcome aroma that signified a new beginning. 

You stretched your limbs, the memory of the labor pains you endured the day before still fresh in your mind. 

But as you lay there, lost in thought, you couldn't help but feel an overwhelming sense of contentment and accomplishment.

You opened your eyes, taking in the familiar surroundings of your chamber. 

To your left, a fireplace crackled, its warmth banishing the morning chill. To your right, a large window overlooked the immaculately manicured gardens beyond. 

And beside your bed, your sisters-in-law, Eloise and Daphne, sat in quiet conversation, their laughter tinkling like bells.

You felt a pang of affection for the two women who had become such an important part of your life since your marriage to Anthony. 

Eloise, the youngest of the two, had always been somewhat of a sympathy to her. 

With her smart mind and independent soul, she was a far cry from the demure, obedient society ladies you had grown up with. 

Yet, there was no denying the deep bond that existed between them. As for Daphne, she was sweet-natured, charming, and utterly irresistible. 

As you sat up in bed, your sisters-in-law turned to you, their faces alight with curiosity and excitement. 

"Good morning, y/n," they chorused, beaming at you. "How do you feel?"

You smiled weakly. "A bit exhausted, to be honest. But otherwise, I'm doing well. How are you two?"

Eloise shrugged.

 "We're fine. Daphne's been keeping me company while you were asleep. It's been rather dull if I'm being fair." She glanced at her sister, her expression teasing.

Daphne rolled her eyes. "Oh, hush. I've been enjoying myself. Again, we have something rather important to discuss." She leaned in conspiratorially.

 "Mother has been pacing the hallway for hours. I think she's tense to see the new addition to the family. I'm sure she'll be in soon." 

As if on cue, a knock was heard at the door. "That must be her now," Daphne said, her face lighting up with anticipation.

Eloise rose from her seat and crossed the room to answer the door. You, feeling slightly more awake now, sitting up straighter in bed, wondering what your mother-in-law had in store for you today. 

As Eloise swung the door open, a warm, familiar figure filled the entrance.

 "Mother!" Daphne cried out, leaping to her feet. "We've been waiting for you."

Violet Bridgerton, the family matriarch, surveyed the scene with a delighted smile. 

"My, my," she said, her eyes twinkling. "It seems I've missed quite a bit. A new baby, I hear." 

She glanced at you, her expression softening into one of motherly concern. "And how are you feeling, dear? Are you in need of anything?"

You felt a lump form in your throat as you looked at the woman who had become your second mother since marrying Anthony. 

Violet was everything a lady should be, gracious, elegant, and utterly devoted to her family. 

She was also fiercely protective of them, always making sure they were well cared for and safe. 

As you struggled to find the words to express your gratitude, all you could do was manage a small smile. "I'm doing well, thank you. Your presence is all the comfort I need."

Her sisters-in-law exchanged knowing glances, clearly understanding the depth of emotion behind your words. 

They each took turns leaning in to kiss Violet's cheek, expressing their own gratitude for her love and support. 

As they did so, the room seemed to fill with a palpable sense of warmth and affection.

"Well, I'm glad to hear that," Violet said, her eyes shining with unshed tears. "Now, I have a special gift for you and the baby. I've been working on it for months." 

She reached into her reticule and pulled out a small, delicately wrapped package, which she placed in your lap. "It's not much, but I hope you'll like it."

Your curiosity piqued, and you gently unwrapped the package, revealing a beautiful, hand-stitched blanket adorned with intricate lacework. 

"Oh, Violet, it's lovely!" you exclaimed, your voice breaking with emotion. "I will cherish it always." 

Tears began to form in your eyes as you clutched the blanket to your chest. "Thank you, thank you so much."

Eloise and Daphne exchanged knowing smiles. They knew that this gift, more than anything else, symbolized Violet's acceptance of you as one of her own.

 It was a symbol of the love and support that you all shared as a family.

As they continued to stand there, the room seemed to fill with a sense of peace and contentment. 

Even though there was still so much that needed to be done, for this brief moment, you were all together, united in your love for one another.

"Now, girls," Violet said, her voice soft and gentle, "I've been thinking. Perhaps you would like to help y/n with something?" 

Her suggestion was met with nods of agreement from Eloise and Daphne. 

They had been itching to help out but had wanted to give their mother time to bond with you first.

"Would you like us to help you get out of bed?" Eloise asked, her tone reassuring. "We could help you down to the sitting room to see Anthony and the baby." 

Your face lit up at the thought, and you quickly nodded your consent. The two sisters moved forward, each taking an arm to assist you as you slowly rose from the bed. 

Once you were upright, they were beginning to guide you toward the sitting room.

The hallway was long and winding, the walls adorned with paintings that told the story of the family's history.

 As you made your way down the hall, you could hear the faint strains of music drifting towards you. 

It was the same waltz you had danced to at your wedding, the one that always made your heart skip a beat. 

The closer you got, the more the music seemed to swirl around you, pulling you forward with irresistible force.

Finally, you reached the sitting room, its windows overlooking the lush gardens beyond. 

The room was lit by soft candlelight, casting a warm glow over the gathered family. 

Anthony was dancing slowly with your newborn baby, his eyes never leaving the child's face as he moved in perfect harmony with the music. 

Eloise and Daphne guided you to a comfortable chair by the window, where you could watch the scene unfold before you.

As you all watched, you could feel a lump forming in your throat. It was so beautiful to see your husband dancing with your child, their love for each other shining through every movement. 

You could see the resemblance between them, both of them with Anthony's dark hair and eyes. 

The baby's tiny fingers curled around Anthony's finger as if she were already familiar with the feeling of being held so close.

Your sisters-in-law took seats on either side of you, their hands clasped together in their laps. 

They smiled at you, understanding the depth of emotion that you were feeling at that moment.

 It was a precious moment, one that you would all cherish for the rest of your lives.

As Anthony finished his dance with the baby, he came over to you all, his face flushed with happiness and exhaustion. 

He bent down to kiss your forehead, his touch sending a wave of warmth through your body.

 "I'm sorry I wasn't here earlier," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "I wanted to be the first one to hold her, and I did not want to wake you."

"It's all right," you replied softly, your eyes never leaving his face. "I know you were with her." Anthony smiled at you, a tear trickling down his cheek. 

He reached out and took your hand in his, giving it a gentle squeeze.

"I've been thinking," he said, hesitating for a moment before continuing, "That we should have a naming ceremony for the baby. Something small and intimate, just for our closest friends and family. What do you think?"

Your heart swelled with joy at the thought. You turned to your sisters-in-law, your face alight with excitement.

 "That sounds excellent," you said, your voice shaking slightly with emotion. "I would adore that." 

"Then it's settled," Anthony declared, his voice strong and sure. "We'll have the ceremony next weekend. Everyone will be here to celebrate with us."

 He leaned down to kiss your forehead again before returning to his daughter, who had fallen asleep in his arms.

As you all watched Anthony gently rock the child in his arms, you felt a sense of peace wash over you. 

You were home, surrounded by the people she loved most in the world. And despite the challenges that lay ahead, she knew that they would face them together, as a family.

[depresseddepot]

.

[lady-ashfade]

Other skin: Yandere!Characters reaction to a female demon slayer landing on you.

Plot: They watch a woman fall on you and her…chest is in full view in front of your eyes, and she flirts with you.

Reader: imagined female but no pronouns.

Notes: I just thought of Tegan and his wives reactions and I got excited, I love jealous yanderes.

Characters: Tengen & Makio, Suma and Hinatsuru, Mitsuri Kanroji, Sanemi Shinazugawa.

Disclaimer: I have not read the manga so most of the reactions are based on the show and fics I have read. So please forgive the inaccuracy.

The place was filled with other demon slayers from all types, sizes and skills that varied from race or religion. It was unlike anything you had seen before and the couple related in that way, this was something special. The lovers watched you closely as soon as you came into view to keep you safe and sound, but let you explore for just a few before wanting to smother you.

So their eyes followed you as you greeted people or looked at the decorations around, even the food tables with happiness in your eyes. They were taking amongst themselves at how cute you looked with such a innocent sparkle in your eyes. But soon they watched you get tackled to the ground unexpectedly, not watching anything else but you so it slipped their sight. The couple rushed over quickly, Tengen was the first to get there.

You groaned at the impact you took and your head ached. Weight pressed on your chest and it made you open you eyes slowly with the pain still in your head. But unlike meeting a face you were meet with a woman’s cleavage in front of you at eye level. Your face heated up quickly and eyes getting wide, you snapped your head up to the woman’s eyes. “Oh? What a lovely expression.” Her lips curled in a smirk as she ran her tongue across the outline, her tone smug and confident.

“Don’t get embarrassed, makes me wanna eat you up.” Her hands pressed harder onto you and you only got more flustered. Her hips sat on yours and everything about what was happening was too much to process.

Suma was terrified at first of how you could have hurt yourself, then as she got closer she saw the woman onto of you. She teared up quickly at how she got to be on top of you, how she pressed into your skin. She cried for her to get off of you. Makio of course was scared of you getting hurt but she was more angry to yell at the person, knowing the others would check you first so she could handle the bitch. But, when she saw your eyes meet her chest…She was pulling out her weapons quickly, how dare the woman take advantage of you? Hinatsuru was of course just like suma, but over all just very scared for you. Had your head took a big hit or how was your back and body? She was in motherly mood. Just like the other girls she got jealous of the woman, her perfect baby must be so scared right now.

Tengen was pissed from the get go, how dare someone crash into somone as fragile as you? Being a harisha he had speed, so he got there first to witness what the woman said. His eyes twitched and he had to refrain himself from slicing the woman’s head off. His aura was filled with rage he looked like a monster. He noticed how she pressed her body closer to you, her hands on your chest, flirted with you and got you shy.

“Come one, tell me your name?” She took her hand off your chest and went to touch your face but her wrist was grabbed in a death grip. Both of you looked up to see tengen looking at her with a smile that sent shivers down your spine. “They are off limits to the likes of you.” He flashed a toothy grin and threw her hand to the side, next thing you knew was being picked up into the air and his arms around you. The woman landed on the ground with a annoyed, “And who are you?”

A gasped left your lips when you saw a fist hit her cheek and quickly took notice it was Makio who punched her. The two other woman pulled her back and screamed it was enough as she tried to go after her. The woman got up quickly and dusted herself off and walked off quickly, leaving all of you behind with a stomp in her step. “Leave it.” Tengen ordered and they stopped and obeyed his orders.

Suma came over and cried about how she was sorry the woman got to close. “She wasn’t even that pretty, how could she touch you like that?” She was so jealous. Makio crosses her arms and slightly yelled at you for looking at her, or how you didn’t try and get away from her. “She was a hag, how could you blush like that? Its pathetic.” She was still fuming at the thought of you looking at another woman. Hinatsuru checked you for bruises or cuts, any signs of harm she could have done to you. “Did she hurt you? What a horrible person, look at you. So shook up, don’t worry she’s gone.”

You couldn’t leave their side the rest of the night, no matter how you tried. It took so long to convince tengen to put you down. They hated not being there for you, it only pushed them closer to taking you away…

Mitsuri hated leaving you alone even for a second, the thought of someone else hurting you or something happening to you. She couldn’t handle the thought. But now she lost you in a crowded market place and she panicked at the lose of your hand in hers, that she forced you to hold, and had no sight of you. Her voice got lost in the sound of so many others, she pushed through the people and looked for you but kept getting pushed back.

This was supposed be a fun day were she could spend every second with you and she wouldn’t look suspicious. She could hold your hand, be close to you, keep you in her sight and blame it on the worry of losing you. But now she saw her mistake on taking you here, she shouldn’t take you on busy days or anywhere this big.

Making it passed the crowd she took a deep breath and searched around for you. When she saw your outfit and a woman on top of you she froze in place. Another woman touching you, sitting on your lap, getting to be so close. It made her see red. She saw you blush at the sight of her chest and wondered if you’d blush like that if it was her.

“Tell me your name cutie.” Her voice sounded so sensual and it only made it worse. Mitsuri was inches away now and glaring at the woman, wanting to tackle her to the ground and away from you. But she smiled like she aways does and appeared next to the woman’s face with a huge smile. “Mind getting off them? I’m sure they don’t appreciate it.” Her cheery tone and smile didn’t match her energy at all, and you knew her well to notice.

“And who are you? This one’s mine?” Mitsuri took a moment of staring at the woman to giggling, making you both confused. “Maybe I didn’t make myself clear, I wasn’t asking.” The weight disappeared off your body as Mitsuri kicked the woman off of you and sent her rolling away. You stared in shook as her expression didn’t change from a sweet one. “This one will never belong to the likes of you.” She pulled you up and gripped ahold of your waist and pulled you close to her.

“I’ll make sure of that..”

He’s always dragging you away from others and doesn’t care what gender they are, if they aren’t him? Then they don’t deserve your time. So it’s hard to get a chance away from him since he doesn’t let you out of sight while he’s around. He sees you as something everyone should want, but you can’t fight them because you’re weak. (Even if you’re a demon slayer or a harisha, he doesn’t care)

He was coming back from a mission and waited for your presence and he looked around the butterfly mansion for you. He missed you in every way, to your smell to your smile and how you made him feel calm but so many other strong emotions. When he opened the door he found something that he couldn’t comprehend. He felt so many things that he stopped working for a minute.

A unknown woman straddling you and her chest in full view in front of your face, her body presses up against you. The look on your face was enough to show that you were embarrassed and flustered, how you tensed up. He is the one to get straight to the point and wouldn’t care who she was. She was coming off of you.

He walked over with the most calm expression and didn’t make a sound, only his footsteps could be heard. You noticed him first and got scarred at his expression. He didn’t say anything as he took a fist full of her hair and dragged her off of you, throwing her to the ground and standing in front of you.

“It’s considered disrespectful to touch something that doesn’t belong to you. They, are mine and I should kill you.” He laughed and got his grin, his fire coming back. “I’ll give you five seconds before you see why harishas are the highest rank.” She run out the door quickly and left without a peep. Then his attention was on you and you got a sick feeling in your stomach.

“Want to tell me what that was about?” He kneeled and got close to your face, “Did she touch you worse then what I saw?” Stuttering you explain what had happened and how it was a accident but he didn’t truly by it. Or he believed your intentions but not hers.

“If I see something like that again you’re getting punished as well,” he took ahold of your chin and yanked you forward. “Understand? No one touches you but me.” You had no choice but to agree.

She was reported dead in a week.

[bluelockmaniac]

𝐆𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐑 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋 — ᡣ𐭩 dad! nagi seishiro x mama fem!reader

click here -> for dad! sae & rin versions !

“seishiro, have you seen– oh, there she is!” you called out with a soft chuckle, leaning against the doorway of your shared bedroom. you crossed your arms, a smile playing on your lips as you took in the sight before you.

your little three-year-old daughter perched on her father's lap, her tiny hands struggling to hold a controller that seemed comically oversized in her grasp.

your husband turned his head towards you slowly, giving a slight nod of acknowledgement. the subtle smile that had been on his lips earlier immediately vanished, replaced by an exasperated pout.

“... hmm, you're late,” he muttered under his breath, his hand shifting from your child's waist to ruffle her snowy white hair. “what took you so long?”

“sorry, had to pull a late shift,” you sighed tiredly, walking toward the pair. kneeling down in front of your toddler, you extended your hands and snapped your fingers with a warm smile, beckoning her over to you.

“c'mere, baby,” you cooed, “mommy missed you! you were all i could think of at work–”

“mooooveeee!” your daughter suddenly shrieked, bouncing up and down on nagi's thigh, her legs flailing in every direction. nagi quickly steadied her by her waist to prevent her from toppling over.

“daddy! teww mama to moveee!” she demanded, turning around and gripping her father's large sweater with her tiny hands. she flashed him her adorable puppy-eyed look, her large doe eyes the same eye colour as yours.

he sighed, lifting her off his thigh and placing her gently on the carpeted floor. narrowing his exhausted eyes, he stuck out his hand.

“gimme the controller.” he murmured, unimpressed by the look he was [usually] so weak to. she furrowed her brows, puffing her chubby cheeks in defiance as she hugged the controller protectively, her body positioned to make a run for it.

but nagi was quicker– he stood up, swiftly picking her up with outstretched arms, her tiny legs dangling in the air. he turned to face you, his brows furrowed in the same way as your daughter's. it was pretty obvious who she had inherited that expression from.

“this girl's been a brat the whole day,” he groaned, pulling your daughter against his chest and wrapping his arm around her to prevent her from wriggling free.

“she didn't wan' to eat the food that you made for her, ran around the whole house in only her underwear, and kept cryin’ and wouldn't shut up unless i'd let her play with my video games…”

“...’mm, reminds me of a certain someone,” you laughed softly, leaning in to cup his cheeks, your thumbs brushing against his skin as you pressed a quick kiss to his lips.

the little girl frowned, babbling some incoherent words as she pushed your face away from her father's with her petite hands.

he sighed, protesting with half-lidded eyes. “you're too mean. i'm not like that,” he glanced back at his child, raising an eyebrow. “didn't i tell you to gimme the controller?” he gently bounced her in his arms to emphasize his point.

“nooo!” her whiny voice cried, burying her face into her father's shoulder and sinking her tiny set of teeth into his flesh.

“ow!” nagi yelped in pain, quickly setting her on her feet. she scurried away, climbing onto your bed and sitting on the edge. excitedly, she kicked her legs against the wooden frame, clicking random buttons on the controller.

“yayyy!” she exclaimed, her mood brightening instantly. however, when the bold 'game over' text flashed on the screen, her eyes drooped over, and glossy tears began to form along her lashline, her lower lip quivering in dismay.

your motherly instincts kicked in as soon as she began to sob. you quickly got down on your knees, wrapping her in a gentle embrace and patting her back occasionally as she hiccuped and drooled onto the crook of your neck.

“aw, baby, it's okay,” your voice was soothing, yet it did nothing to help comfort your crying child.

meanwhile, nagi shrugged nonchalantly, taking advantage of the moment to snatch away his controller from your daughter's tiny grip, a subtle relief washing over his face.

“haha, you're trash, try harder next time–” he teased, sticking his tongue out at her. she peeked over your shoulders, glaring at him through tears. “–it's my turn anyway.”

that tear-inducing comment earned him a painful chop on the head, his video games and controller confiscated, and a night on the couch.

though, you woke up the next morning to find your husband and daughter snuggled together on the couch, fast asleep. your drooling daughter was tucked inside nagi's oversized hoodie, her tiny head peeking out of the neck hole. nagi's huge arms were wrapped securely around her, their chests rising and falling in sync. 

you smiled, adjusting your work uniform in front of the mirror. through the reflection, you noticed that the living room table was littered with papers covered in childish drawings and an unfinished game of snakes and ladders.

taking care of two children was hard.

© 2024 bluelockmaniac — do not repost, copy, translate, modify, etc my work on any platform !

[deunmiu-dessie]

(unedited) widowedfather!simon gets help with his daughter. [ connected with this post as an au! ] [ one, two ]

the incessant wailing of the baby seemed never-ending. her plump, delicate cheeks were tinged with a crimson hue, and torrents of tears streamed down her face. simon, standing amidst the formula cans, wondered briefly how such a tiny thing could produce such an ear-piercing noise, the sound grating at his ears, which only served to exacerbate his already troubled state of mind.

he was at a loss, unable to figure out what was causing her distress. simon had just fed her, burped her, and changed her diaper recently—yet she continued to cry inconsolably, legs kicking and arms tucked to her body. it’d been like that, him desperately trying to calm her down while receiving judgmental glares from onlookers (although he couldn't bring himself to care) for the past fifteen minutes.

she misses her mother.

well, she's gone. he was all she had now, and he wasn't much– he knew that. he’d asked price’s wife for help several times after she was born, when he couldn't figure out why she was crying, what to do when she wouldn't go to sleep. simon eventually stopped asking for help a couple of months later, didn't want to inconvenience them any more than he already had. didn't matter if they swore that he wasn't. he was a father, he needed to act like one.

simon had never been annoyed or angry with his child. how could he ever find it in himself to be annoyed or angry with his own flesh and blood? especially when she bore such an uncanny resemblance to his late wife.

no, his anger was solely directed towards himself, anger for not being able to understand her needs quickly, anger for not knowing how to soothe her. doubt plagued his every thought, making him question his capability to raise her properly.

“hi, would you like some help with her?”

taken from his thoughts, simon turned slightly to where the voice spoke, a woman standing just a few feet from him. her grocery cart was filled with food and two children, twin boys, were hanging off the side he realized. they seemed to be no more than five years old, but they were calm; giggling amongst themselves and pointing to what cereals they would eat early tomorrow.

simon redirects his attention toward the woman, her smile is warm, sympathetic, and non-judgmental. she eyes the newborn with starry eyes and a slight pout on her lips. simon shakes his head softly. “s’alrigh, don’t want t’bother you.” he murmurs gently. regardless, even though he declines her help, his daughter continues to cry inconsolably, much like the day she was born.

she waves him off and grins— everything about her was so, motherly, so kind. “believe it or not, i miss the newborn phase. they're like little critters when they hit their tot years.” she whispers the last part to avoid her kids overhearing and sends him a wink. he chuckles, it's small, barely there but she hears it nonetheless and responds with a soft laugh of her own.

the woman takes a few steps forward and gently takes the baby from his grasp, despite his hesitation, before he can decline once more. and a weight is lifted from his shoulders, his body no longer tense from not understanding what was wrong. simon watches as she cradles the newborn, a bright smile adorning her face, before she looks up at him. “she’s just a little gassy, feeding her while she’s upright will help to stop this from happening.”

simon anxiously nods, his heart pounding as the woman gently applies pressure just below his daughter's tummy, causing the gas to escape gradually and the baby's cries to turn into soft whimpers instead. his heartbeat slows, and he readjusts his arms to take the child. the woman lovingly coos at the newborn one last time before placing her delicately into simon’s waiting embrace.

she waves him off once more when he goes to thank her, smiling. “we parents need to stick together,” she says, before she walks back towards her cart and affectionately runs her hands through her children’s hair. “so, where to next?” her laugh is soft and loving as the two excitedly shout, "candy!" she looks over her shoulder at him and rolls her eyes, mouthing: ‘critters’

and simon, since the death of his wife, finally feels something.

[kimarii-00]

Regrets and Punishments (2)

❥Summary: Armando knows he made a mistake. He knew when he decided that his mother was more important than his girlfriend. But he planned to return to her, he really did. He never could’ve anticipated being gone for as long as he was. Seeing her face again was like getting shot: You get that adrenaline rush, yet the pain ends up biting you in the ass later on. Especially when he discovers what, or dare I say, who he also left behind all that time ago.

❥Warnings: Slow burn, kidnapping, language, guns/shooting, blood, violence, suggestive scenes (?), eventual happy ending

❥Word Count: 4.8k (2k words more than the last one ;))

❥Part 2/2

PART 1

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AN: I did not expect all the support for the first part, thank you guys!! I hope this last part was worth all the hype! Enjoy!!

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“(Name),” Kelly begins, “I’m so sorry I–”

“What the hell do they even want with her? She’s a fucking child. Four! Four fucking years old,” As angry as you were right now, you couldn’t stop the tears from flowing, “I can’t… What if they hurt my baby?”

“They’re probably going to use her as some sort of backup in case their plan with Mike’s wife goes south…”

In all honesty, you think you had a hunch on why they took Demi. Because he’s her father… They must’ve done their research…

You’re surprised Armando hasn’t pressed you more by now about Demi. He must’ve had questions because last time he checked, you didn’t have a kid, so from his perspective, in the years he was gone you either must’ve hooked up with some guy and had his kid, or the passionate night you two shared before he left must’ve really paid off…

“(Name) I swear, we’re not going to let anything happen to Demi,” Kelly said in an attempt to sooth your motherly insticts. You felt nausious but you appreciated that you weren’t in this alone. Kelly had always been there for you, especially when the father of your child left and you found out you were pregnant with his kid a week later. She was there for you when nobody was. She had helped you through depressive episodes so you wouldn’t stress yourself and end up hurting the baby, she was there for you when you went into labor and had to be rushed to the hospital. She was there when the loud cries filled the room when the doctors popped Demi out of you.

Thinking of this only made you angrier, because it was wrong that you had to rely so much on your best friend instead of the man that was supposed to be Demi’s father, and now, because of his involvements with these people, your daughter has been taken. She has nothing to do with this.

You wipe your face, trying to get the tears to stop falling but they just wouldn’t. Out of the corner of your eye, you catch Armando looking at you with an expression that you can’t read but when he notices that you’ve seen his antics, he averts his attention elsewhere. You can’t help but think that he wants to say something to you, but you can’t bring yourself to care in this moment.

As much as you’d like to deny it, deep down you still have feelings for that man. But there are many reasons as to why you can’t just happily jump back into his arms and ask him to take you back.

Right now, you have more than yourself to worry about. You have Demi, and if you were going to get with a man, she deserves to have someone that will care and love her and right now, you aren’t sure that man could be Armando.

You aren’t paying much attention to the group as they talk about a plan to get the hostages back, you aren’t in your right mind and it seems everybody notices that. All you can think about is your little girl.

Mike looks at his son, and even though they don’t have the deepest relationship, he can tell that the boy is worried for you. He still isn’t entirely sure what you and him are to each other, but he can definitely tell that seeing you as broken as you are now is breaking something in Armando himself. He makes his way to Armando’s side and slightly nudges his side to get his attention.

“Go talk to her,” he says, gesturing to the grieving woman, “You two clearly have things to discuss, you better get it out of the way before we start making moves.”

“She doesn’t want to talk to me,” Armando grumbles, his eyes wandering to your person for what felt like the hundreth time in the last ten minutes.

“You never know until you try–”

“I did try, she told me to get the hell away from her.”

“Listen man, I don’t know what your relationship is with her, but what I do know is that if you don’t talk to her now, you might not get another chance to.”

Armando takes in his fathers words, contemplating his options and realizing that he really only has two: Not talk to you and then potentially die before he gets the chance to, or two, talk to you know and list the weight thats been on his chest ever since he saw you walk through that front door.

He decides that he would probably come to regret picking the latter, but his feet are gliding him toward where you sat with Kelly before he could find some excuse as to why he should wait until later to have this inevitable conversation.

You don’t seem to notice him until he’s standing before you, yet you don’t lift your head. Kelly does, however, and gives him a certain look that read, “If you hurt her more than she’s already hurting, I swear I’ll kill you”. He nodded to her, and she hesitantly nodded back. She rubbed your back in a comforting way one last time before standing up and walking toward the rest of the group. Armando took her place next to you.

He doesn’t say a word. Neither do you. It’s a mix of awkward and comfortable silence between you two before you break it by suddenly speaking up.

“She’s yours,” You say without warning. You decided that you’d rip the band-aid off and quell any thoughts about you hooking up with some other guy that he might’ve had, “Her name is Demi. She’s four… She’s yours.”

“...I had a feeling,” He starts, “I’m sorry.”

You don’t say anything and wait for him to expand. You wait for his to say anything to help you understand why he left you. Why he abandoned you and your unborn child. But he says nothing.

You sigh, “Why’d you do it?” You sounded tired. You didn’t want to argue. You just wanted him to help you understand his decision all those years ago.

“I got caught up in some shit. Fucked with the wrong people.”

“Yeah no shit,” You spit out.

Silence overtakes you both once again.

“You didn’t even leave a text,” You say quietly, “Y’know I waited for you. I waited, and waited, and waited, and then waited some more, yet you never came home. Never.”

Up until this point your head had been in your hands, trying to soothe your pounding headache, but now your gaze laid on his face, making direct eye contact. You let him see your stinging red eyes from all the crying you’ve been doing.

“I didn’t want to involve you in my shit. I didn’t want you to end up hurt because of me–” He begins, but you don’t take any of that bullshit.

“Yeah? Well I’m involved now, and guess who’s paying the fucking price? My– our child.”

This shuts him up. He doesn’t have anything to say to that, other than, “I’m sorry.”

You scoff. Is that all he can offer you? After all he’s put you through?

“Was it even real?” You ask on a whim.

“What?” He questions.

“Us. Was it real? Since you found it so easy to just up and leave some random day?”

“You think that shit was easy?” He snaps, “I loved you– I love you so much, so how the hell could you say that me leaving you was fuckin’ easy?”

You flinched at the correction from loved to love, “You sure as hell made it seem that way.”

He startled you by grabbing your shoulders tightly. He turned you so you looked at him fully, eye contact as intense as ever.

“I had to damn near fight myself to not turn back and run into your arms again after I left you. I thought about you every fuckin’ day that I wasn’t around you. If I could go back, I swear I would’ve told my mother to fuck off if it meant that I could stay with you… with our child. But at the time I was a fucking idiot and I thought–” He had to stop his rambling for a moment to take a breath. You stared at him with wide eyes, he was never one to go on tangents like this, and you made no effort to stop him. “I thought that leaving was the best decision for you, for us, at the time and I planned on coming back. I really did. But everytime I even thought it was okay to return more shit kept happening and I just– I didn’t want you involved.”

You let him trail on with his words as you found comfort in his somewhat desperate hold in your shoulders.

“I never meant to hurt you the way I did.” Armando concluded.

You avert your eyes down slightly, breaking the eye contact but he puts his finger under your chin to lift it back up. He doesn’t want you avoiding this conversation.

He isn’t sure what possessed him to lean down, shortening the distance between the two of you until there was nothing but a pocket of air seperating his lips from yours, but as he’s about to take the final step, you pull away slowly.

“I-I’m sorry, I just…” You begin, unsure of what excuse your about to pull, “I can’t.” You say, deciding not to beat around the bush.

He nods in understanding, yet you immediately recognize the hurt in his eyes.

You pull away from his hands on your shoulders and he makes no move to stop you. You take a deep breath in, like you want to say something else before you part ways, but ultimately decide against it.

You say nothing as you walk back to the group, leaving him standing motionless behind you.

“As far as they know, Lockwood is on his way with a plane to move the hostages to Cuba,” Mike spoke, going over the plan once more. Today was the day you took action to rescue the people that were kidnapped. Mike’s wife, the girl that was with her at the time– Callie, and…Demi. God… I swear if they did something to her… “The second they get close to the plane with the hostages, it’s quick kills. Neutralize all threats. These motherfuckers killed a lot of good cops. They have my wife, they have Callie, and they have (Name)’s daughter.” You lowered your eyes at the aknowledgement.

“They attacked our families. We not losing today.” He concludes, and everyone nods their head.

You were partnered with the tech team in the van, watching the situation from drone footage. You wanted to be on the front lines to get rid of every fucker who thought taking your daughter was a good idea, but you were stuck inside of the van until extra help was needed.

You hear the helicopter pilot through your comms device in your ear, “I got one looking out the front door, right side, I got one sniper on the roof of building two.”

“T those up,” Rita says, who ended up joining the cause after realizing the man she was dating was with the enemy. You quickly code in a few commands for the drone to follow and before long you have eyes on the two mentioned. “Everybody keep moving. What are those?”

She points to the objects presented in the live map of the area, and you answer, “Gaters.”

“I thought it was an abandoned theater park?”

“Abandoned by humans,” Kelly jumps in while loading her gun.

You manage to find the parks webpage from when it was open and discover that the main attraction was an albano aligator named “Duke”. It was sixteen feet long, and there are stories about him still being there to this day.

“Well fuck that…” You mutter.

You watch from the drone as the main team lands in the water as planned, getting into position.

“Armando’s at his QTH,” Dorn confirms, letting everyone know that he’s in position. You swallow the lump in your throat.

Lockwood steps out of the helicopter and walks on the dock, waiting for them to bring out the hostages. You hold your breath and watch closely.

“Hostages are coming out now,” Dorn says. Your eyes dart across the screen, looking for your daughter in particular before spotting her in the arms of a muscular man. They walked behind the other two that were kidnapped and you can barely contain yourself when you take in the terrified look on your four year olds’ face.

“Fuck…” You choke out under your breath. Kelly hears this and rubs circles into your back for comfort. You put your hands over your mouth in a prayer like position and keep watching through the drones.

“Everybody stay calm,” Rita says.

The plan was for Mike to take out their leader as soon as he had the chance to, which was why he was on the front lines, yet when you notice no movement from his end, you begin to become worried that something has gone wrong.

“Mike?” Rita blurts, “Mike do you have the shot?”

“Negative, I do not have a shot, I do not have a shot,” he says into the comms device. Your eyebrows furrow as you look from a perspective of a drone that flew near where the helicopter had landed, and you conclude that from where Mike was posted, he should’ve had a clear shot.

A moment goes by and the kidnappers walk with the hostages, but just a little ways before they reach Lockwood, they stop on the bridge.

“They stopped, why’d they stop?” Dorn hurridly says. The drone is able to catch the sight of something slowly moving through the water and you conclude that it’s what they are looking at as well, you watch as their leader follows whatever is moving and your heart sinks when you realize what the thing in the water is moving towards.

“Armando–” You start, but he seems to have noticed it as well.

“Shit.” He says.

One man signals for the soldiers around him to start a search, suddenly becoming suspicious of where the thing in the water was going, and who it may be targeting. “Armando they’re closing in on you.” Dorn states.

“Do they see him?” Rita asks.

“I don’t know.”

Rita takes the time that they are distracted to pressure Mike, surely he has a shot now, right? “Mike, now! Your chance is now, they can see him, they know we’re here!”

“I don’t have it, negative, negative.”

“You’ve got to take the fucking shot,” Armando mumbles out, keeping his eye on the thing slowly advancing toward him in the water, and the person that was getting dangerously close to his hiding spot above.

You watch as all hell breaks loose when Armando shoots the man who semed to have spotted him, and he falls into the water only to be finished off by the thing in the water, now identified to be the ledgendary sixteen foot long gator. You don’t think you’ve ever been as scared as you had been the moment you realize they know they’ve been set up, and they start taking the hostages back into the building. Your daughter begins to cry and it breaks your heart.

“Engage!” Rita shouts through the comms, “Kelly, get us there.”

You leave your chair and move to the front of the van along with Kelly as she steps on the gas. You take the time to reload your own gun, and slip a knife in your boot for emergencies.

By the time the four of you have arrived, the fight has moved inside. Rita orders you three to go inside and she states that she’ll go after Lockwood and you don’t have to be told twice before you’re rushing in there. You hear Kelly shouting your name behind you, trying to get you to slow down as you leave them in the dust, but all you can hear is the blood rushing in your ears, desperate to find your daughter. You arrive just in time to see the man who was holding onto your daughter walk up a flight of stairs and you waste no time following after, shooting whoever was in your way.

The path splits into three once you reach the top and you pick a random path, slowly walking into the room.

You make sure the room is clear, making sure there is no one in it before you turn around, only to be smacked in the face with the butt of a gun. You stumble and fall, and make eye contact with the man who took you by surprise. You see him aiming at you, but with no intention to die before you find your daughter, you regain your balance and sweep his leg and quickly make your way on top of him. You snatch the knife out of your boot and put it to his neck, “Where is the child?” You hiss out, “I swear I’ll fucking kill you, where is she?” You barked when he took too long to answer for your liking.

“I don’t know what your talking about–” You decide you don’t have time for this bullshit, and jab him in the stomach with the knife. He lets out a cry of pain and he finds the cool metal of the knife back on the skin of his neck with a noticable change of pressure this time around. He was sure it would cut into the skin at any moment, “Okay, okay! Last I heard she was on the top floor.”

“Fuck,” You say, realizing that there were more floors than you realized. You don’t say another word before puncturing the side of his neck, quickly ending him. You get up, ready to leave the room but you’re grabbed from behind and choked. You grip the arm that wraps around your neck and stab your already bloodied knife into it, releasing yourself from the headlock. Even though the man who’d attacked you had been stabbed he was relentless. He ran at you again, landing a punch into your stomach and you got a few hits in yourself. You smash his head against a wall which either kills or knocks him out, and you can’t bring yourself to care as you see more men rush into the room.

You dance around them, getting in hits and taking some as well and you whip out your gun. You wanted to preserve bullets but you were getting overwhelemed by the amount of people that were flowing into the room. You shoot a few with amazing accuracy.

You hear a grunt behind you and before you can turn around, you are hit in the head with the butt of another gun again. You groan, the pain of your injuries starting to show through the adrenaline and the man behind you grabs you by your hair and pulls you up before wraping his own arm around your neck. You close one eye in pain and watch as one man walks to you, aiming his gun.

Before he can shoot, there is another shot that interrupts their plan and it ends up hitting the man behind you. Now free from his hold, you make use of the distraction and kick the man in front of you in the gut, causing him to double over. You knee him in the face and snatch his gun, shooting him in the face.

You look at your savior, and your eyes widen as you realize who it was. Armando…

“You good?” He asks. You nod, and he joins you at your side to finish off the remaining of the enemy, but before any of you can make a move, a helicopter comes smashing through the window, instantly killing two of the guys. You’re right in the path of the helicopter, and you see out of the corner of your eye Armando running towards you. He grabs onto you and you both fly out of the way. He manuvers both of your bodies until he’s the one to take most of the impact once you land.

Once all the chaos settles, you both stand up. You look at him, his hands still embracing you protectively, “Are you okay?”

You don’t answer him and continue to stare into his eyes. Those eyes you’ve known for so long. You don’t know what could’ve possessed you to do this, but you feel as if it’s the only thing you could do in the moment. With haste, you push your lips against his.

You can feel his surprise in your sudden action. You bring your hands up and grip his vest for stability and you feel the moment where he begins to reciprocate. Your mouths move together in a practiced motion and you wonder how he’s still such a good kisser after all these years.

The kiss quickly becomes heated, hurried. He slips his tongue into your mouth and you let him, moving the muscles together, competing for dominance. You groan into his mouth.

He then begins to walk forward, and you walk backwards slowly until your back makes contact with the wall behind you and he cages you in, his lips never leaving yours. Tongue never unlocking with your own. One hand is connected to the wall and the other to your hip as he brings you impossibly closer. You bask in the moment.

You break the kiss first, needing air, and his lips search for yours again instantly when you do. Your mind begins to cloud, but you remember why you’re here in the first place. You need to find your daughter. Even knowing this, you find it hard to pull away from the sensation that is his lips against your own, but somehow you find it in you to put your hands on his chest and gently push him away. He looks down at you in question.

“Can…can we continue… after I find my daughter?” You breathe heavily, still breathless from the passionate moment you shared.

“Yeah… okay. I’m coming with you.” Your eyes shot up at him at the statement. You nod at him and he hesitantly releases you from his hold. Desperate to rid yourself of the tension left in your lower area due to the kiss, you walk away, recalling what the man said about another floor.

Armando follows closely behind you.

You eventually find the staircase that would lead you to the top floor, and of course, awaiting you were more of the enemy. With Armando by your side, you make quick work of them and once all that were left were bodies, you begin to search the room. It was the only room on the top floor, so unless that guy was lying to you, Demi must be here.

So where the hell is she?

There is no sign of her being here. You check behind boxes, inside cabinets, everywhere. Your breathing quickly grows rapid as you realize that your daughter is nowhere in sight. If she’s not here, then where the hell could she be? The rest of your team was in the lower areas on the building, and if one of them found her, surely they would’ve announced it over the comms, right? So where the hell is your daughter?

You feel a hand on your back, “Hey, hey, you’re fine. We’ll find her, okay?” Armando says.

You realize you can’t waste time, so you nod and recollect yourself. But that doesn’t change the fact that you have no clue where she could be if not here.

“Look,” Armando states once your breathing had slowed, he points to the left where there seemed to be a door to a balcony of sorts.

You take a deep breath and follow him, as he already started making his way toward it.

He kicks open the door, gun aimed at the figure that stood at the edge of the balcony and your heart dropped. In front of you stood your little girl, and a man that took his place on the ledge of what had to be a long ass drop. You feared the worst and your gun shoot in your hands.

“Put the guns down!” The man demanded, “Right now or I promise you I’ll jump, and take her ass with me!” He says. He emphasizes his words by gripping your daughter tighter and holding his gun to her head, then back at the two of you.

Your daughter is bawling her eyes out. You aren’t even sure if he noticed that you were there for her. She was scared out of your mind. “Demi–”

“Shut up, and put your fucking guns down!” The man demanded. You listen this time, which prompted Armando to do the same. You cursed to yourself, realizing what little power you have in this situation. “I want you two to slowly walk back out that door.”

“We can’t do that,” Armando states, his hands rising in the air after he dropped his gun to show he’s not a threat.

“Fucking do it!” The man boasted. You aren’t sure what your options are, if there were any. You look to Armando, and he seems to sense your eyes on the back of his head.

He then looks at you a certain way, and mouths to you, “Trust me.”

Your eyes widen and you let out a yelp in surprise when Armando takes off running toward the man and your daughter. This takes the man by surprise too, before he makes no effort to pull the trigger and only seems to panick at the incoming threat. He doesn’t get a chance to retaliate before Armando uses his shoulder and back to swiftly steal your daughter from the mans grip, all the while using force to push him off of the balcony.

You watch as Armando sinks to his knees with your daughter, gently combing her hair with his fingers and whispering in her ear words of comfort. She grips onto him tightly and cries into his police vest. It takes you a moment to realize that she is safe. Something about Armando holding your daughter in his arms and caring for her makes you realize and think about some things that you haven’t thought to think about before, but you put that all of the back burner in favor of finally holding Demi in your arms again.

“Baby…” You whisper, almost in disbelief that she really is safe and sound. Demi registers your voice in her little head and whips it around to face you.

“Mama!!” She cries, she leaves Armando’s hold and you drop to your knees to give her the biggest, tightest hug you can. You sniffle and pull her head into your neck.

“Are you okay Mimi? Let me look at you…” You say, pulling away from her to check her from any kind of injury. She shakes her head, you take in the sight of her red eyes from all the crying she’s been doing.

“Mama is hurt…” She mumbles. You move your hand to the various areas that Demi points at and notice that you are indeed hurt in many areas, but you don’t care. Not right now.

“I am… But it’s okay, mama’s strong, just like you baby. God, I love you so much,” You say, planting a long, wet kiss on her forehead and hug her again tightly.

“I love you too, mama,” Demi says into your neck. You look at Armando as you hug Demi, and you mouth a quick “Thank you.” He nods to you, watching the interaction.

The moment is interrupted by Mike on the comms, “Armando, come in Armando.”

“What’s up?” Armando replies.

“You need to get out of here, Judy’s here and is looking for you. Take the boat and get the hell out of here.”

Armando hesitates, looking at you and your daughter… his daughter. Whatever he’s contemplating seems like he’s making a hard decision in his mind, but luckily for him, you’ve already made up yours.

“We’ll come with you.” You state.

“What? No–”

“It wasn’t a question.”

Silence overtakes you, but you don’t let it linger for too long, “Don’t push us away again.”

This looks to have convinced him, as he takes a deep breath and nods. “Okay.”

You don’t know how the future will go for you three. You dread the predestined talk with your daughter that you’re going to have to have with her to tell her that this man is really her father, but all you know is that as your walking through that building, your daughter being carried by him and her hooked onto her neck for safety and comfort, you feel as if you have good things coming.

And so you let yourself crack a genuine smile, one that you felt hasn’t shown itself since the night that he left you.

And he reciprocates the same one. One you haven’t seen in years, and one you’re sure to see in many more to come.

TAGLIST: (if you didn’t get tagged, it’s probably due to settings!)

@dasaniswrlddd @thedarkworldofhananerea @taylormcguire282 @timebomb1101 @5arlan7 @desiiiisworld @babygurl030 @lovelyme22 @Leavemealing @lewispool @yeahnohoneybye @velocitynyoom @maybepersuasivetom @deadpool15

[actually-safer-to-kiss]

Cravings

Summary: Spencer admires Reader while pregnant and in the depths of her cravings.

Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader

Category: Fluff

Content warnings: Pregnancy, eating

Word count: 848

Spencer can’t pinpoint when he’s loved you the most. Hearing you groggy over the phone when he was on the jet heading home would’ve been the obvious moment, considering he blurted the three special words out in the middle of you talking about your upcoming work day. You and the team, who also witnessed it, were stunned into silence. But he still spoke to you after, whispering like he was alone the entire time.

Your wedding day would be another appropriate answer. He didn’t tear up as any groom would. No, he cried. His tears collected at the brim but took time to overflow, blurring his view of you gliding down the aisle with thoroughly-planned elegance. He had to block them to gather himself, as one would shield themselves from the sun.

But this moment tugs at his heart: when he opens the front door with the classic, “Honey, I’m home,” and you emerge from the bedroom with a swollen belly hidden under an old sweatshirt. The joy on your face is a moment he won’t forget. Granted, a portion of said joy might be thanks to the greasy bag and styrofoam cup he’s clutching desperately in one hand. Nevertheless, he savors the look and the feeling that must have felt similar to men who graced their families with bountiful hunting results.

Except in this case, the “bountiful hunting results” are chicken tenders with fries, extra honey mustard, and a large hot fudge sundae from your favorite restaurant that happens to be in the middle of nowhere and roughly 30 minutes away. But cravings are cravings, and they’ve been relentless throughout the second trimester. He’ll scope out the specific restaurants, local or corporate, if it makes you happy and appeases the baby girl (hopefully) inside you.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you!” A kiss on the cheek sufficed as you waddled toward the kitchen. You put the sundae in the freezer for now and barely waste time getting a plate and napkins, but it’s less to clean up. And less for Spencer to double-clean later.

Before you sit down, Spencer takes the plate from you, and he swears for a minute he saw motherly instincts kick in.

“You don’t have to eat at the table," he says. “Come on,” he tilts his head toward the couch as he walks, the obvious not mentioned.

“We don’t eat on the couch.” You reply.

He’s still walking.

“You don’t like it. Crumbs, lingering nastiness, and other science-y terms you’ve used.”

He puts the plate on the coffee table. “I’m willing to make exceptions. Plus, with a baby, mess is inevitable.” He leans down, revealing the breakfast tray he bought. You clearly never saw it before. Because the way your open mouth morphed into a smile, he would've thought he unintentionally did magic. He pulled out the small legs. “I figured it’s best to adjust slowly while I still can.”

You walk toward him, your hands resting on your belly. “But this is your couch.”

“In our apartment.” He takes a pillow and fluffs it, setting it against the arm. “Sit.”

You eventually comply. There’s still a look on your face, indicating second-guessing, like you’re somehow doing this without his knowledge. Meanwhile, the breakfast tray is in his hands, and he makes sure you’re settled. You lay across the couch.

Spencer puts down the tray, asking if you want a drink before devouring. You shake your head, eyes staring down at the fatty American dish in front of you. While you begin, he picks a vinyl from your shared collection. The one thing he won’t waver about is the classics.

As in classical music.

As in Mozart. Spencer has noticed your familiarity with the symphonies over the past six months. He loves it, regardless of whether it’s just because he’s insisted you listen to classical after you told him the news.

When the melody flows, Spencer finds a seat on the couch. You slide your feet toward you to make room. As soon as he sits down, he puts your legs in his lap, letting you stretch out again. His lips disappear into his mouth for a minute as he suppresses a giggle.

All the chicken was either swallowed or mush in your mouth and specks of salt littered your lips and hands along with honey mustard drippings. This. Spencer's in love again. As you suck the sauce off your own fingers like it’s the only sustenance you’ve had in days. The comfort he feels here, knowing the woman basically attacking her dinner will be the mother of his child. This is something even his three PhDs are unable to put into words.

“Do you want some help?” Spencer leans over, takes the napkins under the plate, and wipes the corners. You continue chewing, polite enough to keep your mouth closed and manage its volume. “There.” He puts the napkin down. And he looks at you, realizing just how much you've changed his life.

“What?” Your mouth is so full.

“Nothing.”

You swallow almost everything. “Something.”

He shrugs. “I just love you.”

[theultimatedilflover]

Jealousy. (Mommy issues)

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!

Tw: p in v, good boy praise, not a crazy smut but like low key… he’s a pathetic man who has mommy issues. He loves you.

You and art Donaldson had a kid together. Like, a while back. Oliver. He’s recently turned three, and art can’t help but notice how 98% of your attention is towards your guys son. Not that it’s a bad thing. Because, of course he wants you to care for your guys child. Duh. But some of him is telling him— no. Not telling him. Screaming at him that he has never wanted to be his THREE year old son soo bad. Watching his son nuzzle into your neck as you whisper a lullaby to him. He watches in half amazement and half yearning. He’s never had a mom growing up so you can imagine how much he longs for that certain motherly care. I know. It sounds weird but he can’t help it.

One day he brings it up as you guys are getting ready to go to bed, right after you laid your guys son down for bed as well. He brushed his teeth as you crawl into bed. He sighs as he comes over and sits on the bed. You look up at him. You know that look. “What?” You call out in a warm tone. Sweet like honey. Soothing and caring. Motherly. He pauses, biting the inside of his cheek. You sit up, balancing your self on your arms. And that’s when you see it. That pouty lip beginning to quiver. “Ayee art what’s wrong?” You ask in a gentle tone as you wrap your arms around him. He cried into the dent of where your chest ends and your shoulder begins. You sigh as you rub his muscled back up and down. “What’s the matter?” You ask into his ear. He pauses as he looks up at you with the sweetest teary eyes you’ve ever seen. You smile warmly as you search his eyes. Watching the brown speck that’s in his right eye that’s surrounded by blue. The other one just blue. He sniffles as he opens his mouth to speak. But struggles to find the words to explain this stupid stupid jealousy he holds for absolute no reason. You cradle his face as he reaches up and holds his hand on top of the hand that you are cradling him with. “I don’t know how to describe it.” He says in a cracked voice. You nod in a reassuring way. “I—. I wish that I had a mother growing up.” He says finally. You nod again as the realization begins to occur. “You’re so amazing at being a mom and I just— I wish I could’ve had one that was at least half as good as you are.” He says with a pout on his face. Huffing out air as tears roll down his cheeks. You kiss them. Salty liquid hitting your soft lips. “Art..” you coo into his face as he whines. You giggle softly. “Do you want me to start babying you?” You say. It sounds teasing but you mean it. He pauses. “Can you— sing me that lullaby you sang Oliver?” He asked gently. You hum as you attempt to pull him closer, except it just ends up you pulling closer to him. He snuggles into your neck as you play with the hair that’s on the back of his neck. “Shhh, crawl into bed. Listen to the dead. You’re so sleepy. You’re getting all weepy. I’m right here. No need to fear.” You sing softly into his ear as he cried into your chest. “My dear baby, do you hear the birds? Where are they? They’re asleep maybe.” You whisper some more. He chuckles airily into your neck as he sighs sitting up and looking at you. He stare at him. Caressing his cheek. He leans in and begins to kiss your jaw. And you think to yourself how grateful your are that he can be so vulnerable with you. Your patient and caring and that’s all he asks from you.

He trails soft vulnerable kisses down your. You smile, relaxing as he showers you in kisses. But he begins to get to excited. Leaning up and kissing you. But not a soft one. A sloppy one. Kissing and whimpering in your mouth. You giggle to yourself. “Calm down..” you say in between kisses. He pulls back looking at you through his lashes with a pleading look, his eyes full of previous tears. You sigh as he sits down next to you and you straddled him. Situating yourself over him. This time you’re kissing his jaw. “What do you wanna do?” You ask gently on his skin. He sighs as he thinks to himself as he caresses your body. “You..” he says barely above a whisper. You smile on his skin. “Ok.” You say, giving him permission. He grins slightly as he takes you off his lap and sets you on the bed. He pulls off the weak t shirt that he had on. You buck your hips and take off your shorts. He watches the fabric of your panties appear. He waits for you to take them off but you don’t. He chews on his lips as he looks at them and them up at you from your chest. He holds eye contact with you as he leans down and breathes over them. His eyes still full of vulnerability and yearning. “Please..” he whimpers against your panties. You smile. Almost like it’s taunting. You nod as he softly wraps his finger tips around the hem of your panties pulling them down slowly. Kiss your calf. Then his eyes shoot down your cunt. It’s dripping wet and he whimpers at the sight. He takes off your shirt. Kissing your breasts almost immediately. Wrapping his tongue around the nipple. Kissing softly. He sighs as takes off his pants. No underwear on. He immediately pushes into your hips. He’s so big. Maybe too big. But he doesn’t know that you’re struggling to take it and if he did know he would probably nut the instant he found out. He whimpers as he drives through you. Sliding up and down in you. Biting into the crook of your neck. Whimpering like a dog. “Mmph.. I love you.— i— m.. love you.” He said a few times in your ear as you bite your bottom lip. “Please.. ah..” he whimpered. He was already close, you could feel it. “Not yet.” You say sharp as he whimpers. “P-please.. I’m—I’m gonna.. ah..” he begs. Tears fill his eyes as you hold him over the edge for an extra 2 minutes. “Please, honey I’m gonna come.. just for you please..” he whines as he moves sloppily against you. “Make me come first.” You say with a slight moan in your voice. “Y— yes.. anything for you…” he whines trying desperately to be a good boy for you. He rubs his thumb sloppily over your bundle of nerves. You whine as you feel your cunt flutter against him. “Good boy..” you whine as you finish underneath him and that’s when he fucking loses it. He comes like he’s never had before. Whining so loud into your stomach. “Mmm..” he whimpers. You smile down at him as he looks up at you, tears in his eyes. “Good boy..” you smile softly. He pulls out and cuddles next to you.

He murmurs sweet nothings to you as he falls asleep. Your hand playing with his hair. Shushing him gently to bed.

[konigsblog]

pup!gaz+soap+reader is now rotting my brain :(

tw: forced rape, rape and pregnancy, dead dove do not eat, hybrid (dog-human).

- pls don't complain about me writing dark content, it's annoying having to explain how to scroll past stuff you don't like in thirty different ways because some people can't simply block or scroll 😒

simon and price allow their pups to have little dates together, some fun and perhaps a little fucking and breeding here and there... ;3

price is cruel, the way he acts makes you thankful that he's not your owner, that you have simon to take care of you. it was price that came up with the idea of breeding, and simon wasn't against it either...

you knew that your holes would be used on repeat, a fleshlight for the other dog hybrids to abuse... they wanted more hybrids, some little pups to watch you nurture in a motherly way... that's not so much to ask for, is it? :(

simon guided johnny's hips in and out your hole, price pushing your head down against the ground and cupping your mouth while they ordered johnny to take advantage of you and fill your pretty cunt with thick, potent seed! they watched as your eyes rolled back and you cried out. tears rolling down your cheeks while you pleaded with gaz with your eyes to help you. :(

johnny only cried with you, feeling guilty for inflicting pain onto your poor, poor body...

they had gaz fuck into you. your back against the ground instead and simon and holding your thighs open, while price wrapped his hands around gaz's waist, fucking into you. price only took it a step further when he took out his own fat dick, and began rutting into gaz to encourage him to fuck you harder and faster.

johnny even had to be restrained because he was growling and attempting to scratch kyle, price and simon for getting too close to his favourite possession. you were supposed to be johnny's toy to use, so that he wasn't constantly humping simon... :(((

they watched you cry and whine, letting the pups feed off of you. you only looked at simon with watery eyes, his boot pressed against your cheek and johnny moving the puppies around so they all got fed.

[poeticlilies]

Dazai with a reader who’s really motherly with him? I feel like he secretly craves to be coddled but he plays it off with jokes for a while until a certain point where he just breaks :(

also I’m sorry if my request got sent more than once, tumblr is being silly ‼️

♡ My baby, my baby...

Dazai Osamu x Reader

Desc: Comforting Dazai. (fem reader)

TW/CW: mental breakdowns, joking about mental health, dark thoughts, suicide, self-harm, mentions of religion (usage of word "God"), usage of "Y/N", angst -> hurt/comfort

It hurt.

It hurt so, so much Dazai Osamu thought that God had finally pitied him and was letting him die.

He couldn't breathe; his lungs felt like they were collapsing in on themselves, and he sobbed, trying to let oxygen back into his lungs as they burned.

"Just get home," his mind repeated. "Just get home and you can see Y/N again."

A foreign corner of his heart quieted it's pounding; slowing down to consider the thought of keeping quiet long enough to see you. It agreed, happy at the thought of you; and after five minutes Dazai got up and walked out of the closet he had locked himself inside.

Kunikida stared at him, stopping mid-rant as concern flashed over his coworker's face; but before the blond could say anything, Dazai was out the door and on his way to see you again. The annoying ringing of his cellphone wasn't present; which means that Kunikida probably laid off of him and let him go home early.

He doesn't even remember going home, doesn't remember the sidewalk, the train ride, or the winding little path leading to the quaint little neighborhood; doesn't remember unlocking the front door and taking his shoes off, heart beginning to race again as it protests for the mind to uphold it's part of the deal.

"Y/N?.." he calls weakly; stumbling around your shared home. "Y/N!"

His mind begins to race, panicking; what if you had gotten kidnapped? or hurt? what if the Port Mafia took you? what if-- but his thoughts were cut off when the angel that is you, in your everlasting glory, appeared; dressed in shorts and a sweater, surprised (and a little concerned) to why he was home so early and stumbling around your shared house like a drunkard.

He barely hears the worried gasp of his name; barely processes anything before he's lunging for you, arms flying around your torso and coiling around it, tears coming to his eyes as he sobs in relief, crying and blubbering as he's finally back in your loving arms.

He feels the hand you have on his head caressing his hair gently as if he were a glass ornament that would break apart at the slightest touch, and he cries harder; burying his face into your stomach as he sinks down closer to the floor. He feels you crouching down with him; cradling his head against your chest as you murmur warm words that slither inside through his ears to his heart, comforting it as you hold him in your embrace.

You had never seen him like this; had always known the strong, brave Dazai Osamu; had always seen the confident, cocky, brave persona he put on. Whenever you tried to coddle him, he had brushed it off; but you never missed the slight twitch of his eyes, the lingering look in them as he turned away, the way his hand rested on top of yours for a second too long before he pulled away.

That's why you kept going; kept pushing at his walls, begging and pleading for him to let them down; that you weren't going to hurt him like everybody else, weren't going to be let in only to stab at everything in a frenzy like everyone else. No, you wanted to love him; to cherish him and to make him feel loved as you protected him from the world and it's miseries the way he did to countless other individuals.

And it worked; hence the events of today, as Dazai clings to your sweater and sobs.

"Shhh... Shhh.. baby, what's wrong?.." you murmur, finally; petting his hair as he begins to quiet down, obediently following your words.

"M-Missed you." he states, quietly, simply. "Missed y-you so much; c-couldn't think. Could-dn't do a-anything. Missed you so bad..." he whispers, tearing up again.

"Shh.." you whisper again; lifting his face up and kissing his cheeks. "Cmon, baby; you can tell me what's wrong. It's alright, darling."

And Dazai Osamu only falls deeper in love with you.

--

YAHOO!! sorry if u wanted smt else this was the way i interpreted it :(

[flowerandblood]

The Fall from the Heavens (26)

[ canon • Aemond x Strong • niece female ]

[ warnings: mention of sex, incest, smut, angst, swearing ]

[ description: A cool distance turns into friendship and more when two children see that they can find refuge and understanding in each other. However, naïve dreams collide with the reality in which every event has consequences and what once could have been love becomes a dark, newly painful obsession. Angst, sexual tension, obsession, violence, madness, very dark Aemond. ]

The story in this series is an alternate reality from the oneshot Stay and love, leave and die, in which Aemond reads the letters his niece has sent to him over the years. They are the same characters and it shows what would have happened between them − I have changed the background story from their childhood slightly for the sake of the plot.

Characters & Series Moodboard Lady Strong Moodboard Aemond & Lady Strong Moodboard Aemond & Lady Strong Childhood

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

Next chapters: Masterlist

_____

Jace remembered perfectly the day his little sister was born. Laenor had led him into his mother's chamber that day, holding his hand, saying that she was very tired and they couldn't spend much time with her − he had insisted on seeing her because he was delighted to finally have a sibling, a brother to play with and be friends with.

His mother, the future queen, smiled softly at the sight of him, her white hair loose and in disarray, her face red from sweat and exertion.

She held out her hand to him and he hugged her, peering curiously at the infant she held clutched to her chest.

"He's so tiny." He said in disbelief, brushing the baby's finger with his own − he smiled when he saw the baby's hand clench into a small fist with its quiet purr.

"She. You have a little sister." He heard his mother's amused voice; he furrowed his brow at her words and rose, angry and disappointed.

"− wait, comrade −" Laenor called out after him, but he refused to look at her.

She was a disappointment to him.

For the first few months, he had pretended not to hear her cries or squeals from their mother's chamber − even though Rheanyra had spoken to him and encouraged him to meet her, he had refused to do so, recognising that no little girl interested him.

"It was supposed to be a boy." He muttered regretfully while playing with his large, wooden, black dragon, pretending that the stacks of books were the great hills over which he flew on Balerion. His mother smiled at his words and combed her hand through his dark curls.

"That is what the gods have decided. She may be your future wife."

Jace put down his toy, looking at her in surprise, not understanding what she meant.

"Am I going to have to kiss her?" He asked in disgust, recalling the stories Laenor sometimes read to him before bed, in which great knights freed beautiful women from the paws of monsters, only to fall in love with them later and be bestowed a kiss by them.

His mother smiled involuntarily.

"Don't think about such things until you're a grown man. No kissing for now." She giggled, pinching his cheek. He smiled lazily seeing her warm expression, the motherly love that beat from her.

That night he went to the chamber where she slept for the first time; he leaned over the cradle, glancing at her plump little figure wrapped in a white robe and a small headpiece. Her eyes opened suddenly and he was terrified that she would burst into tears − she, however, merely clutched her small feet and began to rock from side to side, looking at him curiously.

He smiled involuntarily at this sight and tickled her belly with his finger. Her squeal and loud giggle answered him, her eyes lit up in joy, her little body all the way up in euphoria. He laughed seeing this, repeating his gesture, thinking she was like a small animal, a puppy or a kitten.

He decided that at the end of the day she wasn't so bad and stopped pretending she didn't exist.

Until Luke was born he had treated her as if she were a boy, driving their mother to despair every time they both returned sodden with mud and sand after another battle with Aegon and Aemond.

He had always felt that his uncles disliked him, and even though they were of a similar age to him, he did not feel comfortable in their company − nor could he hide his jealousy at the sight of their snow-white hair, proof of who they were.

Looking at his father and mother, he could not comprehend why his hair was not that shade.

Rhaenyra explained to him that it was surely because of the Baratheon blood that also flowed through their veins, and although he was disappointed, the sight that he was not the only one, that his sister and Luke looked similar to him, comforted him.

The first time Aegon laughed sincerely at what he said occurred when he called his sister a hamster. The comparison came to his mind when she took air in her mouth and furrowed her brow − he uttered it thoughtlessly, and his uncle burst out laughing and patted him on the back.

"− gods, you're right − and those big eyes of hers −" He sneered, and although he saw that his sister lowered her gaze, embarrassed, he continued, eager to hear more words of praise from his lips.

"− she has just as much sense too −" He added, seeing his uncle throw him an amused, mocking look suggesting that he agreed with him.

He felt a squeeze in his heart when he noticed out of the corner of his eye that his sister had turned and walked away, passing through the cloisters towards their quarters without even giving him another glance.

He turned around and noticed to his surprise that he was not the only person to notice her leaving − his other uncle, Aemond, led her away with his eyes and then threw him a look full of despise, from which he felt discomfort.

He pressed his lips together at the thought that he was the heir to the throne and, unlike him, had his own dragon.

Who was he to look down on him with such superiority?

He decided to remind him of that and share that thought with his brother.

Aegon's involvement in their little joke surprised even him − his uncle thought it was an excellent idea. He argued that his younger brother was too sullen and serious for his age, that he was sapient and could use a little lesson.

As he listened to Aegon convince him that they had found a dragon for him, as he saw the hint of hope and the shy, embarrassed smile of excitement on his uncle's face, he felt for a moment that perhaps they should not do this.

However, it was too late to retreat − Luke ran deeper into the cave, and came out a moment later, leading by a rope a large pig to which they had attached self-made wooden wings early on.

"Behold! The Pink Dread!"

He saw that his uncle froze and turned pale as they burst out laughing, swallowing this humiliation with difficulty − his eyes glazed over and reddened, his gaze again blank and distant.

He knew they had broken him.

That same day he mentioned it to his sister, and her reaction angered him.

"You are cruel." She said resentfully.

Which side was she on?

"He's forever looking down on us because he has white hair. He's constantly making excuses and bragging about what he's read in those silly dusty books of his." He snorted, playing between his fingers with the gold coin their grandfather had brought him from another of his trips overseas.

He blinked when his sister simply rose from her seat and walked out, leaving him in a state of shock and displeasure − he decided, however, that these were just normal female emotions and would surely pass her until supper.

He loved his father, but he also greatly valued and respected Ser Harwin Strong. He was a stocky, tall, handsome man who could fight very well. He often spoke to him or helped him practice by sharing stories of his duels in tournaments and hunts.

He thought then that he would like to be like him one day.

He knew that he was a close confidant of his mother and often saw them together, however, his father seemed not to mind, so he considered this condition perfectly normal and did not bother.

After a few weeks, the will of their King fell upon them like a bolt from the heavens, and their mother informed them of it during one of their suppers together.

"− your grandfather and our King has decided today that, to strengthen our lineage, we will betroth your sister to your uncle, Prince Aemond − let us raise our cups for this −" She said, glancing towards her daughter, his sister smiling broadly at her words, happy.

What?

"− what do you mean? − why? −" He asked, feeling discomfort in his stomach and a cold sweat on his back.

They wanted to gift him his sister as a consolation because he didn't have a dragon of his own?

"− your grandfather wants peace to reign in the kingdom after his death − such a marriage in his eyes will strengthen our family and our bonds between each other − of course, the marriage will only happen when your sister is of the right age −" She said calmly, looking at her daughter with tenderness, taking an unruly strand of her dark hair from her face.

"− did you agree? −" He asked his little sister in disbelief, and she nodded quickly, as if it was the happiest day of her life.

"− yes − I'm very pleased − I'm fond of our uncle −" She said quickly, putting a piece of roast on her plate, describing how worried she was that she would have to marry someone much older than herself.

He stared blankly ahead, clenching his hands into fists, bitter and disappointed.

Had she really never considered him as her husband?

After all, he was her elder brother; in their lineage such marriages were obvious.

He dared not, however, defy the will of the King himself.

His resentment towards his uncle increased with each passing week seeing that, against his wishes, he was not being harsh and unpleasant to his sister − on the contrary, he seemed to have softened in her company, his face, though still pathetically proud, also expressing curiosity and affection.

He felt rage in his heart at the thought that they could really have wished to bring about this marriage.

However, the cup of bitterness overflowed the moment he saw his sister kiss him.

They were both too certain that no one could see them − he watched them from the corridor through a window overlooking the library.

His sister was standing by the bookcase, saying something to him, and he stood up and walked lazily over to her. He rose on his tiptoes and apparently reached for a book that stood too high for her. She smiled broadly as he handed it to her, her hand traveling to his shoulder.

He swallowed hard as her lips pressed against his, and as soon as she pulled away, her uncle grasped her cheeks in his hands and kissed her again, deeper and longer.

He fled to his chamber and burst into tears with rage, dropping all the objects standing on his table, disappointed and humiliated that although he was to become King in the future, someone else was taking away something that in his mind was his right.

He never wondered what kind of love he had bestowed upon her and whether it was the form of affection that usually bound married couples; he knew that he would care for her and be good to her and that was enough for him.

She was his sister and he would never hurt her.

She, however, looked only to her uncle and it was to him that she gave her heart and mind.

He didn't know what he felt when Luke slashed his face that night when their uncle stole Vhagar − horror, shame, satisfaction and relief all mingled in his mind into one.

On the one hand, he was overjoyed that he had taken back what in his mind should have been his, on the other he was embarrassed and distraught at the confirmation of his fears that had long smouldered in his mind.

It was Harwin Strong who was their father.

To his seed he owed his dark curls.

He was a bastard.

He tried to turn his thoughts away from considering what this meant for them, focusing on the fact that his sister would surely no longer want her uncle for a husband, and their paths would part.

This is exactly what happened.

Still, what he had planned did not happen, and his mother decided to change her plan and marry her off to their cousin, Lord Arryn's son, to strengthen her support in the North of the kingdom. Again, he felt a wave of disappointment, however, this time he was not so jealous − he knew that she had no love for their cousin and that he was certainly no threat to her.

"What's my little sister doing?" He asked with amusement, startling her completely, sitting bent over her desk − she quickly grabbed the parchment she had just been writing something on and tucked it under the table, looking up at him with wide eyes.

"Are you writing a letter to someone?" He sneered, raising an eyebrow, standing over her with a smile. She swallowed hard and looked down, thoughtful.

"I write poetry. But I don't want anyone to read it." She muttered, and he sighed quietly and nodded, acknowledging that he wasn't going to force her to do anything.

"Would you like to go for a walk along the beach? It's beautiful weather." He encouraged her; she, however, shook her head, no longer bestowing a single glance on him.

"No, forgive me. I'm tired."

He pressed his lips together at her rejection, which he had faced again and again since they had moved to Dragonstone.

Even though he tried to get close to her, to understand her and comfort her, she still didn't want him.

He was ashamed to speak of his feelings with his mother or stepfather, much less Luke, however, to his surprise, his closest confidant turned out to be Baela.

"I don't understand her. It seems to me that she still misses him, even though he has certainly forgotten her by now. I have heard that he is a cold, vain, self-obsessed man. He's always been that way, treating her only as an object, a consolation prize. Now that he has a dragon he doesn't need her." He said angrily − his cousin sighed heavily at his words, looking at him with understanding.

"When people part in anger and don't close a chapter, it's hard for them to move on. Perhaps she knew him in a way that is unknown to us. He's always been withdrawn into himself." She muttered disapprovingly, fiddling with the wine cup in her hand, gazing thoughtfully into the blazing fire.

He smiled at the thought that he was certain she recalled the impetuosity with which her uncle had punched her in the face with his fist that night when he lost an eye. Baela looked at him, raising her eyebrows.

"What's that look?" She asked and kicked him under the table with her foot. He giggled at her reaction and shook his head, lowering his gaze to her fingers.

"I would have been better for her. I would have really cared for her. Maybe I wouldn't have given her everything she needed, but at least with me she would have been safe." He said with a tiredness from which his companion sighed heavily. He lifted his gaze to her as her hand grasped his and squeezed it.

"I know." She replied softly.

He swallowed hard, feeling a pleasant warmth in his lower abdomen as he saw her soft, misty gaze, feeling her warm thumb stroke his palm. He grunted as he felt his manhood pulsate in his breeches at the thought that, indeed, his cousin was a very fine woman.

He had always liked her sharp tongue and confidence.

"Have you ever lain in bed with a woman?" She asked him suddenly, and he drew in the air loudly, shocked, feeling that his cheeks had certainly turned red with shame.

He didn't know what to answer.

He didn't want to humiliate himself with words that he had absolutely no experience in these matters knowing that she had a more liberated approach to these affairs.

Daemon, as her father, had expressed no dissent, so who was he to lecture her?

She sighed quietly, seeing his reaction, or rather lack thereof, and rose from her seat, turning her back to him, gripping the ties of her bodice with her hands.

"I need you to help me."

Baela was a calm and patient teacher − it seemed to him that she took great satisfaction in his lack of understanding of what she was actually doing to him as she sank down on his swollen manhood again and again with a moan of delight − her brown naked skin glistened wonderfully in the light of the blazing fire, her white curls falling over her shoulders in disarray, her full lips parted in obvious desire from which he felt his fulfilment approaching embarrassingly fast.

She made sure he didn't fill her with his seed, letting him instead come down on her abdomen with his low moan of pleasure, his length pulsating and twitching in her hand for a while longer. He licked his lower lip dry with emotion, looking at her in disbelief, a soft, shy smile on her face.

"− you're beautiful −" He whispered, and she giggled under her breath and kissed him in a way from which he felt hot in his heart.

She made him forget, at least for a moment, what was happening around them, finding in her both friend and lover, the confidante of all his secrets.

She was not jealous of his sister − on the contrary, he had the impression that she understood the source of his anger and disappointment, herself having no intention of explaining to him what she was doing and with whom.

It seemed to him that their relationship and its freedom suited them both.

Of course, they both knew that in the end they would experience a marriage that would inevitably be purely political, and they understood what that entailed.

Then their grandfather was injured on one of his expeditions, and Vaemond Velaryon challenged his younger brother's rights to the throne of Driftmark.

Knowing the truth about his parentage and at the same time refusing to accept it, he became enraged, sad and depressed at the same time − Baela's words of comfort that they would find a solution and not allow themselves to be intimidated did not reassure him.

Once again, his uncle and his family were trying to take their inheritance from them.

His return to King's Landing was a shock to him; to his disappointment, he felt like an intruder there, and it seemed to him that was exactly how he was perceived by everyone.

He felt a drop of cold sweat run down his neck, his stomach twisting with discomfort when he saw his uncle in the distance, wielding his sword as if it weighed nothing, easily defeating Criston Cole, pressing its blade against his neck.

He was tall, muscular, his long white hair, proof that he was in fact a Targaryen partly tied at the back of his head with a black ribbon, his jaw long and sharply defined, his gaze wild and cold, terrifying.

He smiled mockingly at the sight of them, playing with the hilt of his sword between his fingers as if he wanted to devour them.

He felt ashamed at the thought that he was terrified.

And then his uncle spotted their sister in the distance − his heart beat harder at the sight of their expressions.

It seemed to him that this reunion years later had caused them pain, as they both froze, breathing heavily, looking at each other as if there was no one else around.

His uncle hummed under his breath and turned away, nodding at Ser Criston, taking another swing with his sword.

Even though he hadn't cared what happened to her for so many years, even though he had humiliated her at supper by calling her Lady Strong, she had confessed in front of everyone that her place was with him.

He looked at her in disbelief, wondering what she was doing, why she had stooped to courting him when it was obvious that her uncle had neither respect nor affection for her.

After a moment, he heard his uncle's cold, trembling, deep voice.

"So it is decided, father. We will marry."

"How could our mother agree to this? How could she let her stay there?" He asked furiously, circling around his chamber in Dragonstone; Baela sighed heavily, turning her head away. She looked at him finally, hesitation in her gaze.

"I didn't tell you because I knew it would only enrage you and you wouldn't leave her alone." She said tiredly − he halted in half-step, looking at her over his shoulder, feeling his heart pounding like mad.

"You didn't tell me about what?" He asked dryly, frustrated and concerned.

Baela let out a loud breath, shaking her head. They were now betrothed, and although he thought they both seemed to have accepted their families' decisions with relief, he couldn't rejoice.

"My father told me that she had been sending him letters all these years. That the same night we arrived in the Red Keep she spent the night in his chamber."

He stared at her dully, feeling that it made him sick to his stomach, as if he were about to vomit, his face taking on an expression of disgust.

So she didn't write any poetry then, he thought with regret and pain.

"− how could she do this − expose our mother to humiliation and gossip −"

"Jace. She never stopped loving him. I think she's naive too, but you'd have to be blind not to see that she never really accepted it all. I don't know what I think about it myself." She admitted, running her hand over her face.

"You don't know what you think about it? I'll tell you. Our uncle will play with her and take advantage of her, and then he will put her up to ridicule and hand her over to us. He won't marry her." He growled angrily, burying his face in his hands, wondering how she could be so foolish, how she could believe that he had sincere intentions about her.

"The matter of succession is on a knife-edge. Perhaps our grandfather is right? A union between our mother and the Queen could really ease the situation." She muttered, clearly looking for anything comforting in the situation, which he completely failed to understand.

Had everyone around him lost their minds?

"My uncle who thinks we are bastards is supposed to alleviate the situation? He will never agree to let me sit on the throne and I am supposed to give him my sister?" He asked in disbelief; Baela tightened her lips at his words, frustrated.

"You speak of her as if she were an object. It's always been that way."

He felt an unpleasant shiver run down his spine at her words, every muscle in his body tensing like a string.

"What do you mean?" He asked coolly.

Baela sighed heavily, clearly trying not to explode and form her thoughts so as to be honest but not cruel.

"You think she was born to fulfil your whims? That the fact that you are her eldest brother gives you precedence to lie in bed with her?"

He felt himself blush with shame at her question, shocked.

Discomfort and arousal surged through his lower abdomen at the thought.

"Do you think that's what I mean? I'm just trying to…"

"Yes, Jace. I've never witnessed you ask her how she feels, what she needs. I am fond of you, but you are a selfish boy, not a man."

He felt ashamed at the thought as tears gathered under his eyelids at her words, a terrible, cold shudder shook his body, his heart began to pound like mad.

You are a selfish boy, not a man.

Her words so offended him that he stopped speaking to her despite her pleas, and then the thing he feared most happened.

The King was dead, Aegon had stolen her mother's throne and his uncle had imprisoned his sister.

They had made a mockery of them.

He had been right all along, but no one listened to him.

"Forgive me, Jace." Baela muttered, placing her hand on his shoulder. She knelt beside him, sighing heavily, laying her head on his thigh, and he involuntarily stroked her hair, feeling superiority, feeling strength.

He was going to fight for his mother's crown and bring his sister home.

In order to do so, at the behest of their mother, he flew to Winterfell to ask Cregan Stark for his support in this cause, reminding him of the oath his father had taken before her.

The North seemed to him a beautiful and wild place, so far from what he knew − the snow-covered hills, the austere fortresses of dark stone, the robes that looked only grey, black or brown around him gave him a sense of modesty and space.

Lord Stark's nature appeared to be similar to his, and the few days he had spent in his company hunting and riding horses had actually made him feel good − he felt like someone worthy with him, a true heir to the throne, not a bastard.

It was this feeling that, seeing the young Lady Snow from afar, he allowed himself to be enchanted by her charms and lay in bed with her.

Like a real man.

When he arrived back in Dragonstone he learned that Luke had just returned from Storm's End and that he had seen their sister.

"You flew after him? You flew after him knowing he could imprison you, use you as your mother's weakness? Fucking fool." Growled Daemon, shocked and horrified by his naivety, burying his face in his hands, unable to look at him.

"Daemon." Their mother rebuked him, all pale, her hand clenched on her womb. "What happened next?"

"He brought her. Someone hit her, mother, and I think she tried to take her own life. There were cut marks on her wrists." His brother muttered, and he felt his heart stop, he and Baela looked at each other quickly.

She had tried to take her own life.

Because of this bastard, his sister could be dead.

His hands clenched into fists at that thought.

"And then?" Pressed Daemon in an impatient voice.

"I told her to run away with me, but she didn't agree. She told me to tell you that she loves you and that she remains faithful to you, mother." He mumbled and he slammed his fist on the table, feeling fury and rage boiling up inside him.

"That fucking bastard purposely made her stay. He planned this, he never had any intention of marrying her!" He growled red with anger − Daemon threw him a single, drawn-out look.

"And then what? He let you just walk away? No one else saw you?" He continued, pretending not to have heard his outburst.

"N-no, I was surprised, but no. Forgive me, I had to see her, make sure that she is still alive." Luke said. Daemon sighed heavily and leaned over, placing his hands on the top of the stone table, thoughtful.

"Bring me a parchment and a quill. I need to speak with my nephew."

Baela followed him into his chamber in an attempt to calm him down.

"How can he want to pact with that fucking traitor? His brother stole my mother and his wife's throne!" He shouted in her face − his betrothed dropped her hands in a gesture of helplessness.

"Since he let them meet, maybe there is something to it. My father knows what he's doing, I trust him. I believe he will bring her home."

"You're naive. You always have been."

"And you're vain. You always have been."

He pressed his lips together at her words, feeling his heart pounding like mad, feeling like something was about to explode inside him.

"I met a woman in Winterfell who I took to my bed." He muttered finally, glancing at her out of the corner of his eye.

Part of him wanted to hurt her, and part of him wanted to be honest with her.

That was what they had promised each other.

Baela laughed at his words in disbelief and shook her head − he had a feeling he saw a shadow of regret in her gaze, but he wasn't sure if it was because of his confession or because she understood why he said it now.

"If you wish, I'll relate to you how I spent my time in your absence, but I'm not sure you'll be able to look into this guard's face afterwards." She sneered, lifting her chin high, looking at him defiantly. He felt a wave of hot shame and anger surge through his body.

"After we're married…are you going to continue this?" He asked uncertainly and she cocked her head to the side.

"If you are not faithful to me, I will not remain faithful to you. You are dear to me, but don't think I will cry for you. Certainly not like your sister cried for her uncle. Part of me has always envied her that she experienced such a deep feeling in her life even if it burned her from the inside for so many years." She said with a kind of regret from which he felt a squeeze in his stomach, but he answered nothing to her words.

He knew that they did not love each other.

They were close and felt comfortable together, but they weren't mad about each other.

He believed it just had to be this way.

He waited impatiently along with his mother and the others gathered for Daemon to return from his meeting with their uncle, simultaneously terrified and angry that they were speaking with traitors instead of fighting.

When they heard the squeal of Caraxes in the distance his mother stood up, pale, holding her hand on her womb again, as if remembering the time when she had carried her only daughter under her heart.

His other sister had died before she was even truly born.

When Daemon stepped into the main hall everyone was already waiting for him; he sighed heavily, placing his Dark Sister on the table top, folding his hands in front of him, straightening.

"Your daughter married her uncle of her own free will. My nephew has conveyed to me that his brother-cunt will relinquish the throne he stole from you if it is your daughter's children and his who become heirs to the throne or, in the event they do not conceive a son, ours − Viserys and Aegon. He demands the exclusion of Jace, Luke and Joffrey from the succession." He said dispassionately. He looked at his mother seeing that she had run out of words.

"− mother − this is −"

"− leave us − all of you −" She ordered.

"− mother − this is my inheritance − mine −" He began, but felt Baela's grip on his arm.

"− Jace − that's enough −"

He sat in his chamber thinking only of the fact that his mother was just contemplating whether or not to agree to deprive him of his inheritance, to acknowledge that he was her bastard despite the fact that he was her firstborn son, despite the fact that Laenor Velaryon had acknowledged him as his heir.

"− Jace −" Baela muttered, seeing his condition.

"− leave −" He said. He heard her sigh heavily as she approached him with a rustle of her gown, kneeling at his feet.

"− Jace − I'm on your side − I always have been − don't you see me as your companion? − your friend? − your lover? −" She asked with a pained expression that startled him. He lowered his hands and looked at her − his palm rose to her cheek, which he stroked with a tender, slow gesture.

"− you resent me − you don't see me as a man, but as a child −"

"− that is not true −"

"− I don't want your pity −"

"− Jace −"

"− you were right − I don't want to frustrate you and I understand all the accusations about me that you've made − my whole life I've been trying to be someone I'm not −" He finally replied, his betrothed's fingers grasping his hand and squeezing it.

"− that's what I mean − stop pretending − be honest with yourself −"

"− do you want me to be honest? − very well then − my mother has never asked my opinion on any important matters − Daemon treats me as if I am an imbecile and mocks me − I am both a first-born son and a bastard − my uncle wants to deprive me of everything, he wants me to be a nobody and why? − because when I was a child I gave him a pig? − god, I regret it, it was a cruel joke − I regret that he lost an eye, I regret that a dragon didn't hatch from his egg − but even if I had said that, what good would it have done − he would have laughed at me saying I am a weak cunt −" He muttered and burst out sobbing like a small child, hiding his face in his hands. Baela embraced him and cuddled his face into her oil-scented neck, stroking his hair.

"− I am grateful to you − I am grateful to you that you are honest with me − I am grateful to you that you have never lied to me −" She whispered and he wept softly, tightening his hands on the material of her gown feeling that the closeness of her body brought him solace.

"− I am grateful to you too − forgive me for not being what you deserve −" He mumbled, sniffling loudly, trying to calm the convulsions of his body and his ragged breathing.

"− I forgive you − I forgive you and ask for your forgiveness −"

When his mother came to his chamber that evening, he knew what decision she had made even before she opened her mouth.

"− Jace −" She began, and he turned his head away, panting with rage, burning tears of humiliation under his eyelids.

"− after all this − after all you've sacrificed − are you going to let them win? −"

"− how would I be a just Queen if I thought only of myself instead of the good of the kingdom? − any other solution will mean war with our own kin − is there anything else more displeasing to the gods? −" She muttered in a breaking voice in which he could clearly hear that she herself was suffering immensely.

"− you let them dictate their terms −" He said in disbelief, looking at her at last. His mother pressed her lips together at his question.

"− no − I intend to impose my own demands on them – none of them will be allowed to sit on the throne − none of them will wear the crown − they will be rulers-regents until their son, the rightful heir, is born −" She replied, forcing herself to be calm.

"− and if no son is born to them? − will you exclude me from the succession then? − your first-born son? −" He mumbled in pain, hitting his chest with his palm. Rhaenyra drew in air loudly, her eyes red from tears of pain and grief.

"− it's my fault − not yours − me and Laenor really tried, but −"

"− I don't want to hear it − I won't listen to it − why did you let me come into the world? −"

"− Jace −" She mumbled − he heard the rustling of her gown as she took a step towards him, but he held up his hand showing that he didn't want her to come near him.

"− I will leave Dragonstone to you − it belongs to me and I can give it to whomever I wish − no one will challenge your rights in this case, you will finally be able to live the life you deserve −"

"− I was meant to be King −" He hissed, and she swallowed hard.

"− as was I − but perhaps we are not meant to be − pride steps before a fall −" She said drily, her chin lifted high.

"− what does Daemon have to say in the matter? −" He asked lowly.

"− he is furious, but he will do as I command − just as you −"

[buckyhad]

Baby fever

Pairing: soft!dark!Oscar Piastri x reader

Tw: slut-shaming, some breeding kink, pushing for a yes, cockwarming

Oscar was so relaxed after his first win on F1, just like he always was.

But he was burning with excitement inside, thinking about all the ways he could celebrate.

Searching for his girl through the crowded garage, mood going sour when he didn't find you, asking one of his mechanics "At Williams, with Logan" he said.

Oscar didn't find a problem on your friendship with Logan, until now, you were supposed to be with him when his first win happend, not helping his friend.

Fuming towards the blue garage, feeling his ears ringing with all the cheers and congratulations.

Spotting you across the building, with a hand on the american's shoulder while talking to him. He stopped suddenly when he saw that the two of you were talking with some woman, who was holding a baby. Watching you being all motherly and sweet just got his excitement going again.

Making his head go again to that place he often tried to hide, you with a big bump, carrying his baby. But what better way to celebrate his first win, than that.

"Love, lets go back to the hotel" he said once he reached your side "I'm sorry for how you race ended mate" he said hugging his friend before parting ways.

+++

Oscar felt that the car ride went for ages, trying to stay as calm as he could. But once both of you reached your hotel room, he was all over you, kissing and licking and squeezing.

"Slow down love" you said breathing through kisses.

"Fuck, no" he said pulling you closer by the back of your neck "Wanted to put my hands on you since I go off the car" slowly making your way to the bed in the middle of the room "Even worse when I saw you with that baby" he panted while taking of the straps of your white summer dress.

"You want a baby?" You chuckled while removing his McLaren's shirt.

"Gonna fuck one into you tonight" Oscar left a trail of wet kisses on your neck.

You laughed a little bit, thinking that your boyfriend was joking, or just going along with the moment.

"What?" He asked "You don't want to?".

"Of course I want to love, but not now" you said the true when he stopped.

"Why not?" He furrowed his eyebrows while looking down at you.

"It's too soon Oscar, we are so young, you just started your career".

"Even better, I really think we should have one now" he said pulling you by your waist.

"I don't think it's the best idea" you repeated.

"You don't want to, do you want to be with someone else?" He said with pain in his voice.

"No, of cour-"

"That's why you're dress like that? That's why you were comforting my friend?" His eyes got red with tears.

You flinched at his harsh words "No Osc, of course not that's not the reason" you tried to reason with him, not wanting to see him cry.

"Then have a baby with me, please" he begged.

"Okay, fine" you gave in, watching the light come back to his face.

"I love you" he said before attacking your lips again, not even bothering to take off your underwear, pushing it to the side before running his fingers through your folds, testing your entrance to slowly push a finger in.

"So wet, cant wait to have you dripping with my cum" he mumbled.

"More, please" you asked.

"Fuck it" he said before manhandling you on you hands and knees before slamming inside "So good" he cried, grabbing your neck to get you back flush against his chest, his other hand roaming your body till he found your clit, quickly pushing you towards the edge.

"Love, I-" "I know, I know" he chanted while keeping the pace.

Fucking you through your orgasm, following behind, both of you collapsing on the bed and rolling on your sides.

While he was spooning you, you felt him slip his dick back inside "Cant let any drop get to waste" he said before kissing your shoulder.

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

A/N: wrote this from one of my friends ideas, so good, love dark oscar

@matchtaco lo prometido es deuda hermana

[unconventional-lawnchair]

Jily x Gn!Reader {Blurb}

Jily x Slytherin!Reader

Masterlist

Summary: An interesting situationship with Jily}

wc-2184

Cw; No use of {Y/N}, Jamie being a meanie, this is NOT proofread, Straight up porn for the first 500 words.}

A/n: This was an idea born out of ovulation and exhaustion, I do not plan to continue it

James’s hands slipped down the curve of your hips, his thumbs pressing down hard on the divot of your pelvis.

His breath was heavy, his hips rolling forward in a rhythm that you gave up trying to follow. He applied pressure to your bruising hips, not allowing you to squirm or falter any longer, forcing you to comply with his wishes. Not that you could say much to fight it, face covered by the divine place where Lily’s ivory legs met.

“They're doing so f’good.” James slurred out, gasping between statements, trying his best not to come undone by his view. You, laying across his bed, unable to hide your body from him, as Lily held your hands on her love handles. Giving a chuckle when he pressed a bit too hard and caused you to grab harder at Lily’s skin, leaving angry red marks, 

“So f’good. Just f’us..” He groaned and leaned down, running his tongue along a strip in the middle of your chest, savoring the taste of your salted skin, admiring how your chest raised to try and keep him there. 

“Look at them.. Lily, look at how- fuck…” He groaned and had to slow himself with how hard you were clenching around him. Only serving to make you whine into Lily’s soaked cunt, making the older girl give a shaky breath.

“Yeah, yeah, I see them, Jamie.” She whined and began to grind down on your tongue. Her eyes rolled back as you pulled down on her hips to bring her as close as possible. Even with how dominant she played in the bedroom, she still seemed to think you couldn't take her full weight. She grabbed your wrist and hand, throwing her head back as she began to gasp.

You continued to assault her clit, making her shutter. “Close! Close!” She cried out. You curled your legs, her sounds like music to your ears. Even with James slow yet hard motions, you were close, so bloody close.

Lily gave a cry of your name, a slur of a few curses she'd normally never let fall from her pretty lips in any other scene, and began begging for James. 

She eventually couldn't take any more, crawling off of you to catch her breath. James took her place and stole your lips for himself, savoring the taste of Lily on them. You lifted your wobbly hands to grab his hair, suddenly, there was no hesitation. 

His hips fired off hard and deep inside of you, your back arching off the bed sheets, screaming out into his mouth. He pulled back to watch as you reacted to his suddenly brutal assault. “J-Jamie- Jamie, s-s-slower!” You shouted and he licked his lips clean of Lily's cum and your fucked out taste.

“Come on.. just one more. One more for me.” He groaned out and you stuttered, unable to argue when Lily took your lips next, just gripping the pillow under your head as if it would give you any purchase through it all.

“They're so good for us, Jamie. Tell them how good they are.”

“Lily, please..” You whined out through clenched teeth, James only seemed to go more erratic at your sounds. “C-can't.. can't-”

“You can.” Lily encouraged, with those soft motherly eyes. Coaxing you further as tears threatened to pour at the pure intense pleasure of being pushed past your third ending. 

“And you will.” James spoke, almost like a threat. Cupping your thighs and forcing your hips higher to get as far as he could. “You'll know who you belong to.”

~~~

It was late afternoon in the Slytherin commons. It had been a day since you saw the two Gryffindor heads, and usually you wouldn't take longer then an hour apart to see eachother again.

Early morning you had snuck out of James’s bedroom, not waking either of them. You loved to be around the two, truly but.. Those words had kept you up the majority of the night. ‘You’ll know who you belong to.’ They were possessive and terrifying, just like his eyes. Like he was warning you.

This all started because Regulus had made a comment to Sirius about finding you a partner, joking about how you are always trailing after James and Lily like a lost puppy. Despite your age, the two upperclassmen were extremely fond of you. Everyone knew it to be true.

You were a Slytherin to your core, ambitious, clever, and determined. However, you were also one of the sweetest green robe James had ever met. You were struggling in potions in year 4, and with James’s father being a potioneer and Lily being extraordinarily talented, the two 6th years volunteered to help you. 

Not that they had a clue who you were at the time.

They learned quickly. 

You were feisty, sassy, and always stuck by what you said. You were also Lily’s Sweetness. She liked you the first time she met you, quick friends. James was harder to convince, with the emerald green hanging from your ears and neck, the robes to match and even your nails.

You were a proud Slytherin. 

He did cave, eventually, and he fell hard into his ‘fondness’ for you. Eventually, when the next year came around, you went everywhere with them. Your grades had improved and they had no more reason to study with you. James’s solution? Just drag the poor kid everywhere. 

That was what started the entanglement of yours. They dragged you to a party in the Gryffindor commons to watch Potter strut around the room and make a fool of himself over their win. A few drinks down, a dare or two later, and you were feeling loose lipped. Loose lipped enough to admit to Lily, who was sitting beside you, something you never would have dreamed otherwise.

“Truth!” Your drunken mind clung to safety.

“What is your deepest fantasy?” Lily pushed, stealing away your beer and setting it aside. Seems to her you've had enough, must be on babysitting duty.

“Like, in bed?”

“In bed.” Lily mused and you bit your lip. Should you tell her the truth?

“Hm.. probably two at once?”

“Boring!!” Marlene shouted across from you, Sirius laughing and trying to keep her upright. Clearly plastered. Remus shook his head in amusement, Regulus laying his head across Remus’s lap with a smirk aimed at you. One you didn't like.

“And who are the two?” Regulus pushed and you bit your cheek, avoiding his eyes. 

“Well, only two people at this school I'd be close enough to do that with.” You spat back and Regulus gave a gasp of mock offense. “I'm wounded.”

“Stay down.” You smirked at him, not noticing Lily’s shocked expression turn slightly. She bit her lip and looked back to James, managing to catch his eyes.

~~~

That night was the best mistake you ever made. You were sure it was a one time thing. 

It had become almost nightly. So much so your hips knew James’s hands better than it knew your own. You could probably recite every one of Lily’s sounds by heart. It was amazing.

Until you made a mistake. You had fallen hard for the two.

Regulus noticed. He had made remarks in the past about setting you up, ever since he started dating Remus he seemed to think he was the go to for all of your relationship woes.

So that comment at Dinner wasn't completely out of left field, you just laughed. He pushed, offering to set you up with Barty or Pandora, both offers making you snort out. “You want to set me up with a flower child or a literal maniac? Does my type vary that much?”

“Would you do them?” Regulus cheeked and you smirked. 

“Yeah, probably.” 

To interrupt the conversation, James cleared his throat, frowning down at his plate while Lily cooed out to him. Regulus gave them a look before his eyes drifted back to you who didn't even seem to notice their odd display. 

“Oh James, you can't keep them from dating forever. Little butterfly has to spread their wings.” Regulus teased, mocking James’s words when Sirius found out about him and his best mate, taking notice of how his jaw clenched and he avoided their eyes. Interesting… Lily gave him a worried look as a weird tension filled their little area of the Gryffindor table. 

“You okay Jamie?” You spoke up, tilting to the side and trying to catch his eye across Lily’s form. He still refused to meet yours.

“Oh! I forgot, sweetness, if you are wanting to join us for study tonight, we should probably get to it now.” Lily declared and stood up. 

Study.

James began to stand up and didn't wait for your agreement, just grabbing your bag. You hurried to your feet and muttered a quick goodbye to everyone still at the table. 

When you got to his dorm they wasted no time with you, it felt almost like James wanted to say something that entire time.

He finally did, and it left you in more of a mess then you originally figured. You thought it was maybe going to be a conversation, then telling you they wanted to end it if you got a partner. Seemed only logical. What did you expect, really? James and Lily were made for each other. You were just some fun they had on the side. You liked having that sliver of intimacy, it fooled you into believing that there was something more there.

Instead, you got your back blown out and a few new marks of Lily’s teeth intended in your chest. Not that you minded, again, you knew what it was. 

You were lost in thought, facing the ceiling as your eyes followed the dancing ripples of light reflected from the Black Lake. 

“Quid for your thoughts?” You heard Regulus mused before his face invaded your view of the reflective green. 

“It's a penny.” You smirked up at him and he lifted his eyebrow at you with that same stoic expression.

“Penny? Bloody hell is a Penny?”

“It's an American currancy. I'm assuming you heard it from Remus.” You mocked, smirking as he huffed. 

“I don't like talking to you.” He mumbled and slid into the couch, forcing you to bend your legs to get out of his way. “Did you think about my offer?”

“Offer?” 

“To set you up with Barty or Pandora.” He mused and looked at the crackling fire. You shifted to stare at it too, fiddling with the helm of your shirt.

“I.. I don't know..” You mumbled and Regulus sighed. There was a moment of silence that filled the room, it was cold and unwelcomed. Like you knew what was about to be said.

“You know you have to move on eventually.” He offered no louder than a whisper, and yet you still reacted like he physically hit you.

“... I know.” You mumbled and curled in on yourself. 

“It's better to start now before it gets much worse.”

“I know.” You whispered.

“I can't promise you will fall for either of them, but it might help you get your mind off of those two.”

“... I know.” You muttered into your pillow. Before you shot upward as you hear another voice join your conversation. 

“Know about what?” Lily mused as she looked over the back of the couch. You were startled, but soon relaxed a bit when you realized she hadn't heard anything. 

“About getting them a partner.” Regulus mused and looked you in the eyes as if to dare you to say anything.

“J-just the same conversation as always.” You quickly countered, bending your knees as you watched Lily blink a few times in surprise. 

“Are you serious?” James finally spoke up, arms crossing and jaw clenching once more. He looked pissed. You narrowed your eyes at him before looking at Lily, whose eyes were burrowing into your head. Why did it feel like you were in the wrong here?

“I-I mean, why not? Why are you two here?” You pried and James scoffed, Remus slipping his way around the two to get to Regulus.

“Well,” Lily interrupted James, leaning closer to you. “We were coming to check on you. You've been gone all day.” 

You looked away from the two as Lily reached out to try and touch your forehead. “Just.. haven't been feeling well.”

“Is that so?” She cooed and leaned closed, her feet hanging a bit off the back of the couch. “Well-”

“So, you're going on a date? With who?” James interrupted her and walked closer, Lily sighed. “Jamie-”

“Pandora?” He pried and you began to get up. “Barty? What do they have that-”

“James!” Lily shouted at him and James had some sense to look embarrassed at Remus’s wide eyes and Regulus’s closed ones.

James sighed and ruffled the back of his hair in frustration and Lily pulled away from your space. “We'll be where we always are, Sweetness. When you're ready, okay?”

“Yeah.” You whispered, eyes locked on James piercing gaze.

‘Who you belong to’ 

It was those eyes again.

[lillythecoolest]

Everyone reaction to the reader somehow recovering or healing from being abstracted

This is actually a super cool idea lol

Tadc Cast x Healing Abstracted Reader

Warnings: Near Death Experience?

Pomni

•OH MY GOD THIS POOR THING

•She had literally no hope you’d be back

•She didn’t even know you could heal from something like that!

•As you heal she’s a lot more careful with you, not giving you loads of information at once and never says/does anything to stress you out

•Still kinda freaked out though

Ragatha

•She actually had a decent amount of hope you’d be back!

•Makes sure to bring you extra food and water (even though it doesn’t do anything)

•Her motherly side shines here

•Suuuuper sweet and supportive!

•She’s just thankful you’re okay!

Jax

•Had hardly any hope

•He made jokes about you being gone to make it seem like he was doing okay and coping

•Spoiler Alert: He wasn’t.

•But when you come back? You see him shed a tear for the first time!

•Blames it on being sad you’re back though

Caine

•This mf didn’t even know you COULD come back

•“My My now, a comeback!? Who are you, William Afton!?”

•Shocked but still happy

•Takes extra good care of you

•If you want something special he’ll give it to you

Kinger

•NOOOOO POOR THING :(((

•He had no hope whatsoever :(

•After what happened to his last love he had almost abstracted himself

•When he sees you he cries so hard his eyes go red

•He does absolutely everything for you!

•“Kinger, I can turn on the light…” “Ah-Ah, lay back down!”

Zooble

•They have another emotion other than 🙄?

•Didn’t have any hope, they kinda gave up

•Not on you, never on you! Just because of Kaufmo.

•They actually smiled! Somehow smiled…Without a mouth it’s difficult!

•Whenever they see you they perk up a bit!

•Cusses out Caine like “WHY THE $&@/ COULDNT YOU DO THIS TO KAUFMO!?”

Gangle

•OMG NOOO

•With her comedy mask she had tons of hope, but her other one…

•All tears

•No hope

•She’s so happy to see you she accidentally breaks her comedy mask

•But she still smiles!

•She’s so excited but still nervous you could get worse!

Bubble

•Just stares at you like •_•

hope you enjoyed anon! this was so much fun to do❤️💛💙