#i love big cranky green dad

[gatorgrumbles]

I love drawing the big green man. He’s my life.

[luveline]

If we're still doing dad thoughts- I'm always thinking about kbd!Steve and how wonderful he is. The whole family sitting cosy in the living room and Steve just giving his family heart eyes because he loves them all so much 🥹🥹

thank you for requesting <3 kisses before dinner au, mom!reader

Steve lets out a sigh of content. He feels like a kitten falling asleep over a bowl of cream, or a little boy the night after Christmas. He feels content, in every sense of the word. He had no idea he could feel this happy doing nothing. 

You’re on your stomach. Finally home from work and with no chores left to do, you’ve stretched out the big green puzzle rug and unboxed Avery’s newest one thousand piece jigsaw. The edges are coming together slowly, the constant plink of pieces as you sort through them colour by colour lulling rather than grating. Avery lies opposite you in the same position. She might be Steve’s physical replicant, but she’s your copy now. She’s even perched her hand in her chin the same way you have, the tip of her tongue sticking out between her lips in concentration. 

Wren is awake yet perfectly happy in Steve’s lap. She’s had enough cooing for this evening, babbling as the cartoon mermaids on the TV begin to sing a big musical number. Dove sings along, nestled under Steve’s arm. Many of the words are foreign to her. She swaps them out for nonsense sounds. 

Bethie sits on one of Steve’s socked feet eating pretzels and clapping when the cartoon sea creatures clap, her hair tickling Steve’s knees whenever she moves. It’s the calmest night you’ve had for a while. What’s better is that, besides you and Avery, everybody’s had a bath, and so all that’s left to do tonight is have dinner and go to bed.

You’ll wait until the morning to shower, decked out in your pyjamas, Avery’s hair swept into a protective style to prevent any tangles or knots. 

He can’t really put his finger on why he feels so happy. Perhaps it’s because, at the end of the day, this is everything he’s ever wanted. He doesn’t need the finer things or even the moderately good things, but he has them. He has a nice, clean home (though it’s fit to bursting now with the newest arrival). He has a wife who he loves, and who loves him. He has his four daughters, their pet fish, and a best friend four streets away who he can see whenever. It’s more than he ever thought he’d get, once. 

“Dad,” Bethie whispers. 

“Yeah?” he whispers back, voice filled with a mischievousness that makes Bethie smile. 

“Why are you smiling?” 

You turn to look at him. “You are smiling. What’s funny?” 

“Nothing,” he insists. 

Dove turns under his arm. Her toddler face is pretty much identical to her baby face, the only difference being her mouth full of baby teeth that she hasn’t quite mastered talking around yet. “You are smiling,” she says, like this is a problem to be solved. 

“What’s so bad about that?” he asks. “It’s a good thing, smiling. You guys should try it sometimes.”

Predictably, every girl looking at him is immediately glaring at him. Well, for a moment, but then Bethie cracks and smiles shyly. “I smile all the time,” she argues. 

“You do. Not my cranky pants,” he says, giving Dove a gentle shake. “We don’t like smiling, do we?” 

Dove, despite herself, grins at her dad’s affection. Maybe she’s forgotten you’re home, but she wraps her arm around Steve, careful of Wren’s face, and smiles into his shirt. “No,” she says. “We don’t.”

He kisses her head, sharing a private look with you from over it. 

Avery doesn’t glance away from her puzzle. “I love smiling.” 

“You’re so good at it, that’s why,” you say. Steve hums his agreement. 

“Yeah, you’re beautiful!” Bethie says. 

Avery pulls her head up, then. “Thank you,” she says, sounding surprised and delighted at once. “You’re beautiful too, Beth!” 

“I’m pretty like mom.” 

“And I’m like dad,” Avery says, nodding. She smiles exactly like Steve would as she says it, driving her point home efficiently. Her lips curve up and her almond eyes thin, sparkling with love as she looks between Bethie and Steve. 

“We’re handsome,” Steve says. 

“Handsomely beautiful,” you say. “Ave, did you know handsome used to be a word only said about girls?” 

Avery shakes her head as you delve into an explanation. Bethie crawls to the jigsaw circle to listen. 

“You’re handsome,” Steve says into Dove’s forehead. 

“I am beautiful.” 

“Yes, you are. You’re all so pretty, ‘cos you get your good looks from me.” He laughs. “And a little bit from your mommy, too. Mostly from me.” 

Dove hears the laughter and it catches like a yawn, her giggles peeling as she falls backwards away from him and into her nest of pillows and blankets. “You’re happy,” she says with a big smile. 

“I’m so happy I could cry,” he says. He grabs one of feet to squeeze her toes. “But I’m getting sick of the mermaids, honey. Can we watch something else after this? Maybe something with real people?” 

“Maybe.” With Dove, maybe tends to mean no. 

He shrugs, adjusting the arm that secures Wren to his stomach carefully. She’s peering up at him curiously. “I can’t win them all, can I?” he asks her softly. 

She smiles and gurgles something unintelligible.

“No, you’re right. It’s just mermaids. We’ll live.”

[goldcrown20]

Written for @wolfstarmicrofic prompt: Snow. A Wolfstar raising Harry and Teddy in a no Voldemort AU

“There, Daddy!” Teddy pointed out their hotel window toward a snow covered hill on the hotel grounds. He turned around to see his bemused father rubbing his wet hair with a towel, having just gotten out of the shower.

“For sledding?” the little boy elaborated upon receiving a confused look from Remus.

“Oh, Ted, it might be a little early, love,” Remus started. But Teddy had already rushed into their connected room to find his brother, who was still asleep.

“Haz, I found it!” Teddy fell forward onto Harry’s bed and tried to use his lower body to push his legs up. After a few unsuccessful attempts, he was able to clamber up to crawl near Harry, who was still blissfully asleep.

He poked Harry in the cheek, not once, but three times. Slowly green eyes blinked open to give Teddy an annoyed look.

“It’s too early,” Harry mumbled into his pillow. It was only a couple days after the older boy’s school had paused for winter break. The ten year old had claimed he needed to be awakened later in the mornings to “detox” from what had apparently been a very tough first half of Year 6.

“The bed’s too high,” Teddy informed him. “Get ready, we need to go sledding!”

Harry gave no response, except to turn his head in the other direction. As Teddy began to jump on the bed around him, Harry grumbled into the comforter.

“Ted, what did we say about jumping on the bed?” Sirius’s voice drafted in from the door.

“But Harry’s not getting up,” whined the little boy, his hair turning a cranky dark green.

“Ugh, fine, let’s go,” Harry rolled out of bed to brush his teeth. “But you have to let me have the first go on the circle sled.”

Teddy cheered as he internally smirked. He doubted Harry would hold him to that. His brother always caved to Teddy’s puppy dog eyes and begging. But the little boy wasn’t that mean of a younger brother. Teddy would definitely let Harry have a go after he went on the circle sled at least a couple times.

An hour later, the Potter-Black-Lupin family stood at the top of a snow covered hill, alongside many other families. As Remus adjusted Teddy’s hat, Sirius frowned at the sight of children zooming past him on sleds.

“It looks dangerous,” Sirius started. “Maybe we should find another hill.”

“No,” howled Teddy, as Harry rolled his eyes.

“Dad, if we had it your way we would be sledding on flat ground,” said Harry. “Don’t be such a worrywart.”

“Oi, that doesn’t sound half bad,” chuckled Sirius, giving Harry’s hat covered head a gentle nudge.

“Okay, who’s first?” asked Remus, pulling the orange circular sled in front of them.

“Me, me, me,” chanted Teddy, jumping up and down. Harry threw his hands up in exasperation while Sirius tried not to laugh.

“Why don’t we do the bigger sled first, Ted?” Sirius asked, catching the beginnings of a scowl on Harry’s face.

“Perfect actually, Dad will push you and I can stand over there to take a picture. Make sure the both of you smile! We want both Muggle and magical ones,” said Remus, moving to the side of the hill.

Both children groaned good-naturedly. It wasn’t a vacation unless both Remus and Sirius had about a 100 family pictures each. Harry wrapped his arms around Teddy as they both situated themselves onto the long purple sled.

“One, two, three,” Sirius counted before giving the sled a hard push. The boys cheered as the sled raced toward the bottom. When the sled came to a stop, Harry and Teddy climbed out to drag it back up the hill. A few times up and down the hill later, Teddy clambered over to where Remus was standing with the camera.

“Your turn!” Teddy reached his arms up to ask for the camera. Harry had given the sled to Sirius, presumably to ask for the same thing.

Remus raised his eyebrows and made eye contact with a laughing Sirius. “Err, we might be a little too big for your sled, loves,” he replied. Sirius motioned for them to join he and Harry at the top of the hill.

“How are we going to fit?” asked Remus, as he and Teddy joined the two other members of his family. While Harry and Teddy both launched into explanations, Sirius leaned into Remus’s ear.

“It’s going to be quite a squeeze,” he teased the sandy haired man. Remus rolled his eyes, as Sirius sat at the back edge of the sled, opening his legs to allow Remus room to sit down. At Harry and Teddy’s insistence, he moved to sit in front of the dog Animagus.

Sirius wrapped his arms around his partner, placing his head on Remus’s shoulder.

“How’s this?” He asked, looking up at the children. Harry made a face at what seemed like an excessive display of affection to a ten year old, while Teddy snapped pictures that may or may not have been focused enough.

“Here, let me, Ted,” said Harry, gently taking the camera from the four year old. He snapped more pictures of their parents. As Sirius got ready to push their sled down, Harry and Teddy moved to the side of the hill.

“Reminds you of old times, doesn’t it?” asked Sirius, nostalgia filling his voice.

Remus mind flashed through memories of sledding down Hogwarts hills with the Marauders. “James and Lily would’ve loved this,” he replied sadly.

Sirius squeezed Remus’s mitten covered hands tightly, as he pushed them down the hill. Remus felt the cold air whip past his face, contrasted with Sirius’s warm breath on his neck. As the sled gained speed toward the middle of the hill, Remus caught sight of the two boys snapping pictures wildly. He was suddenly hit with an overwhelming amount of joy and gratitude. He’d always grieve for James and Lily, but he was endlessly grateful he was able to have this perfect little family with Sirius, Teddy, and Harry.

Disclaimer: I don’t own Harry Potter.

[destieltropecollection]

Destiel Trope Collection 2021 | Day 1: Fallen!Cas

In A Fortress of Pine Trees | @mistofstars Rating: Explicit Word Count: 3,380 Main Tags/Warnings: Endverse, Croatoan, 2014, 5x04, Smut, bottom!Dean, Angst, Top!Cas Summary: Future!Dean / Future!Castiel "Cas", he finally exhales. "I could need one of your amazing hippie massages right now" -it starts with a simple massage and ends somewhere else; Dean gives in to long neglected needs... DESTIEL in 2014

The Warmth of your skin | @notfunnydean

Rating: Explicit Word Count: 3,414 Main Tags/Warnings: Sharing Body Heat, Hurt!Cas, First Kiss, Naked Cuddling, Sharing a Bed, no explicit sex, human!Cas Summary: Dean and Castiel are in the middle of a forest, when a snowstorm surprises them in the middle of the summer. To make their luck perfect, Castiel breaks into the ice of a lake. There is only one way to survive this cold. Body Heat.

Are We Human? | @one-more-offbeat-anthem

Rating: General Word Count: 3,766 Main Tags/Warnings: human!/fallen!Castiel, first kiss, love confessions, pet cats Summary: After losing his grace, Cas struggles with being human. Dean tries to help him out—and in showing the former angel how to find joy in the little things, starts to find joy himself (if he's brave enough to reach for it). And also discovers that maybe cats aren't so bad.

The End Of The Beginning | @vampamber

Rating: Explicit Word Count: 3,885 Main Tags/Warnings: ABO, omega Dean, alpha Cas, endverse, endverse Cas, heat, pwp, S5E4 The End, there's a sequel Summary: He just wished that Zach-y boy had picked a better time. Dean could feel those deep seated aches in his abdomen that could only mean he was a day or so away from his damn heat starting. Hopefully he could learn his little lesson before he had to lock himself away for a few days to keep himself from presenting to every damn alpha in a five mile radius. He usually took suppressants, but dealing with Lucifer had kind of taken front seat just long enough for Dean to miss a few too many doses. “Damn it,” he muttered to himself as he rubbed at his wrists, finally free. He wandered out to see where the hell he was. It was an old summer camp, that much he could tell, but that was about it. But as weird as all this was, as unreal and impossible as it had to be, the most mind blowing part was definitely Cas. Fuzzy, stoned out of his gourd, sex guru to a gathering of betas and omegas Cas. Cas, who smelled so strongly of alpha and everything that Dean had ever wanted that he had to shift himself when the guy wasn't looking to try and hide the quickly growing erection in his pants, praying that he wouldn't slick right through his jeans.

Finally Realized | @vampamber

Rating: Explicit Word Count: 4,018 Main Tags/Warnings: ABO, alpha Cas, omega Dean, Dean in heat, human Cas, first time, porn with plot Summary: Dean is sick in bed, so Sam calls in a now-human Cas to come and take care of the cranky patient while he escapes goes on a hunt. Dean cooperates with Cas, but it just figures, when the cold is finally gone, his heat takes its place. Now denial stops being an options as Dean begs Cas for the thing he's always wanted, but could never admit to.

Sweet Cherry Pie | @imbiowaresbitch

Rating: Explicit Word Count: 4,801 Main Tags/Warnings: No archive warnings apply, first kiss, first time, friends to lovers, top dean/bottom cas Summary: Dean takes the newly-human Cas to a diner to try some new foods. Cas wants more than a taste.

Tick Tock Goes The Clock | @vampamber

Rating: Explicit Word Count: 5,784 Main Tags/Warnings: ABO, omega Dean, alpha Cas, human Cas, alcohol as a coping mechanism, implied mpreg, angst, porn with plot, drunken confessions, drunken sex Summary: It was a well known fact that every omega had a metaphorical biological clock ticking away inside of them, just waiting to spring the alarm and make the poor guy or girl go just a wee bit baby crazy. And as much as Dean Winchester tried to deny it, mostly to himself, the one inside him was gonna blow at any second. Even though Dean would never admit it to anybody, especially his brother, he had always felt pretty maternal towards Lisa's son, Ben. He’d always wanted a nice, big family with plenty of pups of his own, ever since he had presented as an omega as a teenager. At least, whenever John hadn't been pressuring him to act like the alpha his dad thought he should've been, that is. It had only gotten worse when Sam presented as a beta, so Dean had shoved that dream so far back in his mind that he completely forgot about it ninety-five percent of the time. That was exactly why the omega knew that his biological clock was gonna kick his ass any day now. Where he used to mostly forget about the idea of having a bunch of pups, it was now taking up the vast majority of his thoughts lately.

I Been Blind | @jemariel

Rating: Explicit Word Count: 22,387 Main Tags/Warnings: Human!Cas, porn-watching, masturbation, mutual pining, porn with feelings, suggestion of m/f and m/m/f sex (in porn), oral sex, frottage, anal fingering, suggestion of bottom!Cas. Summary: Castiel is in love with humanity. At least, so long as he's not the one experiencing it. A lighthearted smutty romp wherein Dean helps Cas navigate the tricky minefield of human needs.

Roaming in the Dark (WIP) | @casbelieves

Rating: Explicit Word Count: 24,624 Main Tags/Warnings: Major Character Death, Graphic Depictions of Violence, Drug Abuse, Drug Use, Drug Addiction, Explicit Sexual Content, Alternate Universe - Croatoan/Endverse, Bottom!Cas, Top!Dean, Heavy Angst, Smut, Fallen Angels, Apocalypse, Croatoan Virus, Canonverse, Minor Character Death Summary: A reimagined look into how "The End" came to be. Castiel does not return to heaven after he rescues Dean from his stint in an apocalyptical 2014. The brothers don't reunite. The angels do fall. A dangerous and deadly virus spreads worldwide. But, without fail, Castiel follows Dean and, perhaps, that is his only fault.

Room A Thousand Years Wide | @mittensmorgul

Rating: Mature Word Count: 34,921 Main Tags/Warnings: Case Fic, Getting Together, Long-Suffering Sam Winchester Summary: Once the world and their lives are finally their own, and Cas has chosen humanity once and for all, he begins to find a new routine of daily life with Dean. Sam doesn't know how much longer he can take their apparently oblivious platonic domesticity, when their regularly scheduled evening goes out the window with a single text message from someone they never expected to hear from again. Ex-Ghostfacer Ed Zeddmore is afraid he's stumbled over something too big to let slide, and sends them a link to a potentially dangerous Ghostfacer wannabe, and a case that isn't at all what it appears to be on the surface. What they uncover dredges up a lot of interesting feelings all around, and they must finally face a few ghosts of their own.

Empty Spaces | @thisisapaige

Rating: Mature Word Count: 48,411 Main Tags/Warnings: Angst, Drug Use, Drug Abuse, Drug Withdrawl, Fallen Castiel, Pre-series Dean, Canonverse, Internalized Biphobia, Slow Burn, Canon-Typical Violence, Friends to Lovers, Hurt/Comfort Summary: [Castiel] found the colour. It was a green, one of the few gentle colours at the edges of his dreams and the one he tried to capture in his paintings, never quite finding the right hue. He spent so long chasing the colours, trying to find it though pills and needles, but they always evaded his grasp. Yet he found one, right here, hiding in the eyes of a stranger. He studied the colour, the subtle differences between dark and light, the little flecks of gold nearly hidden in the sea of green, the ring around the outside. He studied it, trying to commit the colour to memory. The other man cleared his throat. “Uh, dude?” Oh. Castiel forgot the colour was attached to a person. ~~~ What if Castiel had fallen before the start of the series and met Dean on a routine hunt? Set in the spring before Dean goes to find Sam in Stanford.

Gates of Bronze and Bars of Iron | iCeDreams (AO3)

Rating: Teen & Up Word Count: 80,466 Main Tags/Warnings: Season 9 Divergent, Dean in Heaven Summary: Dean realizes that staying in Heaven and catching endless fish isn't living up to its hype. Especially since the gates of Heaven are still closed and there are no angels to guide you in the hereafter. Castiel is surviving Earth, fallen and human until a reaper brings his attention to a hunt forcing him to seek out his fallen brothers.

[fromthedeskoftheraven]

Always kiss me goodnight

Pairing: Din Djarin x female reader

Content:  Pining, kissing, mention of food, oh no there’s only one bed,   helmetless Din (but it’s dark), baby Yoda is an adorable tiny terror

Word count: ~2200

Note:  I swear I was only going to write one Pedro character fic. Has this   kind of thing been done a million times? Yes. Am I doing it once more?   Also yes. It’s self-indulgent hours and this little love letter to our favorite space dad and his green baby has been nagging at my mind since I  first watched the show.

Tagging the people who asked (If anyone wants to be tagged or un-tagged in any future fics since it seems  I’m well and truly back on my bs just say the word): @songsformonkeys @yespolkadotkitty @emesispo @beccaplaying

———————————————

Fatigue has caught up with the little green child now that his belly is full, and crankiness along with it. The Mandalorian has been known to lovingly  call his adopted son a womp rat, but when the baby gets overtired, a rancor is more like it.

This time, you can hardly blame him. The three of you have spent the better part of the day traveling, finally landing on this backwater planet late in the evening. With some searching and a small fortune in credits, Din managed to find a safe, out-of-the-way place to stay, leaving you and the child to eat and settle in while he went to scout the bounty’s location for the next  day’s work.

As the child’s fussing gains momentum, you hustle to the small sink in the corner of the room.

“We’ll wash your face and go straight to bed,” you promise him, letting the   water warm before wetting a cloth and wringing it out thoroughly.

In the mirror, your own face looks as exhausted as he obviously feels. The bed in question is little more than a pallet with a mattress and some  blankets, but it might as well be a royal welcome at this stage of the game.

Despite your gentleness, the baby erupts in an indignant whine as you wipe the cloth over his face and ears. “I know, little love,” you soothe while he struggles in protest. “Almost done.”

He quiets when you scoop him up into your arms, pressing a kiss to his fuzzy head. You hum bits of a song from your childhood, rocking him from side to side, and his little face crumples with a yawn. His tiny fingers curl into the fabric of your tunic and his head goes heavy on your shoulder, but still he fidgets, making pathetic little sounds in the direction of the door.

“I know,” you murmur again, still swaying on the spot. “He’ll be back soon.”

You’ve grown to love the child and you know he’s fond of you, but as far as   he’s concerned Din is the one who hangs the stars in the sky. He’s always a little agitated when his father is out of sight, and truth be told, so are you.

“I know what we can do,” you say. “Let’s make a plate for your buir for when he comes back. Don’t you think that’ll be nice for him?”

Neither you nor Din are sure how much the child actually understands, but you don’t let it stop you talking to him. If nothing else it makes you feel a little less alone in the long hours when Din is hunting his quarries.

His drooping ears twitch upward with this suggestion. He watches with interest as you lay a plate with some of the fresh fruit, bread, and stewed meat Din bought from the innkeeper for your supper.

“There we go. Now then, bedtime for little ones.”

You turn to survey the sleeping area with a stab of nerves. The minuscule size of the room isn’t a challenge -- the Razor Crest has made you an expert in living in small spaces -- but the lone bed is a wrinkle you hadn’t expected.

Din, ever pragmatic, had been quick to point out that it was plenty big enough for the three of you, and it was only one night. He was right, of course.

Still, you’d never been so grateful for dim lighting, sure that your secret longing for the Mandalorian was written plainly on your flustered face.

You couldn’t have said exactly when your feelings for Din Djarin had strayed  into dangerous territory. Somewhere in the months of traveling with him, caring for his child, helping maintain his ship, reminding him to eat, and tending the worst of his wounds your initial wariness turned to admiration, admiration to fondness, and fondness to something alarmingly like love.

It’s a fool’s errand.

For all his kindness to you Din is an island of a man, set apart from the world in  his shell of beskar and the even more unyielding armor of his creed.  Even if his heart is big enough to encompass the child, you don’t dare to hope there’s room for you too.

And now this bed -- this one kriffing bed -- sits there mocking you and all your silly fantasies of you and Din and the child being a real family, bound together by love instead of convenience.

You turn off the light overhead, leaving only the small, sickly lamp at the table to light Din’s way to his supper.

The mattress is clean and the blankets are a bit threadbare but soft, and the baby only has the energy to grumble a little when you lay him down on the side closest to the wall and tuck the thickest of them around   him. Yawning widely, he stretches out a hand toward you, fingers grabbing at the air.

The gesture warms your weary heart.

“Don’t worry. I’m not going anywhere.”

You lie down beside him and face away from the table, mindful that Din will need privacy to eat. The little body shuffles closer to you, curling into your shoulder, and a surge of fierce affection pricks your eyes with tears. You wrap your arm around the baby to hold him close as the full brunt of the long day overtakes you.

“Good night, little love,” you say around a yawn, just as your eyes fall closed.

***

You wake with a start. The windowless room is pitch black, and in the absence of any landmarks your brain races to orient itself.

At your back, the child’s soft, snuffling breaths. A well-worn blanket draped over you and a slightly lumpy mattress beneath.

The inn, you remember in a flash.

At your front...something warm and broad and solid. You’ve nestled into it  in your sleep, one arm thrown over it, your hand grasping soft fabric. A familiar, comforting scent surrounds you, a scent you cherish from laundry days and the cramped quarters of a small ship.

Oh, Maker.

You clearly slept through Din coming back and getting into bed, and now you’re wrapped around him like a second set of clothes. The rush of blood into your cheeks flames so hot you worry he must feel it through the base layers he’s wearing to sleep.

Shrinking into yourself, you begin to pull away, as stealthily as you can. If you  can just get back to your own side of the bed and brazen it out in the  morning, maybe he’ll never be the wiser.

Slowly, so slowly, you  release the handful of his shirt you’re holding and move your arm from where it’s resting across his chest...

In the darkness, a hand encircles your wrist.

Oh, Maker.

You’ve watched Din wrestle enough uncooperative bounties into the carbonite   chamber to know you’re not getting away from him if he doesn’t want you to. But his grip on your wrist is light, gentle. His thumb rests on the place where your pulse is fluttering like a trapped bird, whether from embarrassment or his closeness you’re not entirely sure.

“Din.” It comes out barely a whisper, sabotaged by the sudden dryness of your mouth. You swallow hard and try again. “Din, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to do that.”

“It’s all right.”

His voice is a revelation. Free of the modulator’s rasp, it’s warmer, richer, somehow softer and more resonant at the same time. You’ve never even been in the same room with him when he has his helmet off, and the realization that he’s right there, a breath away, is dizzying.

Silence stretches before he speaks again, more quietly. “It’s...nice.”

Your brain fails you entirely. “Oh.”

You search desperately for something more intelligent to say, but his thumb is drawing feather-light circles over the soft skin of your wrist and your pulse is thundering in your ears. Those touches, so delicate from a man so strong, blur your thoughts like liquor and drag a confession from your lips before you can bite it back. “I’ve always wanted to hold you.”

You wait, blessing the darkness that swallows your shame,  and hope he’s not going to tell you to pack your things and find a job in this bleak little skug hole for when he leaves you behind.

Instead, you feel the mattress shift and know he’s turned toward you.

The sudden fear of breaking Din’s creed is overwhelming, even in the dark. Instinct has you squeezing your eyes shut so tightly that white specks float behind your eyelids.

“I can’t see you,” you say quickly. “I promise.”

“I know.”

His thumb moves from your wrist across your palm, uncurling your fingers to map each one in turn, trailing up to the tips and back down again. You wonder how long it’s been since he’s touched anyone’s bare skin.

He sighs, which is nothing new, but this one doesn’t sound exasperated. It sounds almost...content. “Mesh’la,” he murmurs. “Beautiful girl. I thought so the first time I saw you.”

You’re overcome with a wild, childish urge to pinch yourself to make sure you’re not dreaming.

His praise gives you a rush of courage to ask for something you’ve only dreamed of. “Din...can I touch you? Is it allowed?”

His only answer is to cradle your hand in his, bringing it to rest on his cheek.

Stubble prickles your palm as your fingers slowly trace his scruffy jawline and the thick column of his neck, savoring the feel of him. His hair is soft, long enough to curl at its nape, and when you comb your fingers through the tousled strands he makes a low, strangled sound in the back of his throat. It reverberates through your body like a bell, making your head swim with the thrill of affecting him.

You only just resist the urge to suck a mark into the spot where his pulse races under his warm skin.

Your greedy hands move on to discover a strong brow and the curved bridge of a prominent nose. A mustache frames lips that are more plush than you imagined, a note of sensuality in an angular, warrior’s face.

“Can you tell me what color your eyes are?” you ask, fingertips traveling over his cheekbone.

“Brown.”

Brown. You see them in your mind’s eye, soft and dark, expressing all the   things he doesn’t say out loud. Stroking his lower lip, you repeat his own word back to him: “Mesh’la.”

Din’s mouth twitches under your fingers. “You can’t see me.”

He has no idea. His body warming yours and the sweetness of his voice   calling you beautiful is everything you’ve ever wanted and thought yourself unworthy of having, and he thinks you’re only talking about his  face.

You cup his cheek, smile at him, even though he can’t see it. “I don’t need to, Din. I just know it. I always have.”

“You’re so good to me.” His hand catches yours in his large one, his voice   rough with some nameless emotion. “To me, and the baby. All the time.”

“You deserve everything good,” you whisper past the lump in your throat.

He’s caressing your hand again, holding it in place to press his lips to the pad of your thumb. “I want to kiss you, cyare.”

Your exhale is somewhere between a laugh and a sob. “Please.”

His hand moves to cradle your head as he closes the distance between you. If you were expecting him to pounce, you’re completely unprepared for him to linger, breath hovering over your lips for a long, agonizing moment as he brushes his nose over yours.

You’re almost startled by the first touch of his lips, a little chapped but warm and lush. His mustache is softer than you thought it would be, and so are his kisses, a series of slow, gentle presses of his mouth. Like he wants to do with his lips what you’ve done with your hands, sketching and learning.

It’s only when you slide your hand into his hair again that something inside him breaks. His arm snakes around your waist, holding you to the refuge of his broad chest as he slants his mouth over yours, claiming you in earnest. He’s possessive and tender in equal measure and the tease of  his tongue against yours, his teeth nipping your lower lip, the span of his hand on your back has you drunk on him and whispering his name between kisses like a prayer.

...Apparently not quietly enough.

A little hand scrabbling at your shoulder blade brings you out of your haze. As you pull away from Din the baby is climbing over you as quickly as his short limbs will let him. He wedges himself between the two of you with a delighted coo at Din, hands flailing to find his father’s face.

Din heaves a sigh, but there’s no malice in it. “I’m here, ad’ika,” he says, with unmistakable fondness. “We’re all here.”

You can’t stifle a breathless laugh as the baby snuggles into Din’s arms, making himself comfortable for the night.

Your Mandalorian surrenders good-naturedly, wrapping an arm around you with  the child tucked safely in the middle. He presses a kiss to your forehead before settling on the pillow beside you. “Sleep, cyare.”

Drowsiness is already fuzzing the edges of your mind again, but it catches on the word he’s said twice now. “What does that mean?” you murmur. “Cyare?”

You feel him smile against your temple, one last brush of his lips. “Share my bunk tomorrow night, and I’ll tell you.”

[no-reply95]

Jealous Guys

Something I’ve been thinking about for a while now is the different ways jealousy manifested for John and Paul over the course of their friendship.

I’m going to look at John and Paul in turn and have a look at some of the key ways jealousy appeared, before, during and after the Beatles period. This will be a looooong post so if you want to go on deep dive keep reading below.

John

Jealousy was something that John acknowledged as a big part of his personality, as far as I’m aware, he only acknowledged his jealousy publicly in terms of his relationship with Yoko but I believe jealousy was a feature of all of John’s major relationships. John’s first real partnership was with Pete Shotton, his childhood best friend, and Pete has outlined how John’s jealousy and possessiveness was a feature in their friendship with them falling out when Pete first started showing interest in girls and with John acting out when Pete started to spend more time with other friends, instead of him, here Pete recounts John’s reflection on this period of their friendship:

“Years later John confessed to having felt acutely jealous throughout that interlude: “I was scared shitless I’d lost you after our fight in science class, when you starting playing with David Jones. I really thought I’d gone too far with you that time.“

Pete Shotton, John Lennon: In My Life , 1983

Pete’s recollections establish a pattern in John’s life of acting out due to a fear of abandonment and losing those who are closest to him so it’s not surprising that once John had formed a strong bond with Paul that would stir similar fears in him. 

Below I’ve categorised the groups of people that were the focus of John’s jealousy and have picked one person from each group as an example:

Family - Jim McCartney

Paul’s family was and continues to be a big part of his life. From the outset of their friendship, John was made aware of how important Jim was to Paul and vice versa. John and Paul had to skip school to hang out together because Jim wouldn’t have John in their house initially and John confessed his resentment of Jim’s influence over Paul’s life. It appears that after some time John grew tired of having to contend with Jim for the position of the most important person in Paul’s life, and this culminated in John giving Paul a pseudo ultimatum as John discussed in 1971:

“But Paul would always give in to his dad. His dad told him to get a job, he fucking dropped the group and started working on the fucking lorries, saying, "I need a steady career." We couldn't believe it… “So I told him on the phone, "Either come or you're out." So he had to make a decision between me and his dad then, and in the end he chose me”

St. Regis Hotel interview, Sept. 5, 1971

Friends - Mal Evans

Throughout the active years of the band it was typical of them to refer to each other as their best friends and, given the lives they led, I think the simple fact that no one else could understand what it was like to be a Beatle would have meant they all shared a special bond. However, they all had friendships outside of the band and this was something that could cause issues for John when it came to Paul.

According to Tune In, Mal initially became friends with Paul during the band's initial shows at the Cavern Club then, after a suggestion from George, Mal became a part of the Beatles entourage thereafter. Mal had friendships with all the Beatles, as part of their inner circle, but from his comments it appears John took umbrage with the closeness of Mal’s friendship with Paul:

“Paul would suddenly come in with this circle saying, “This is Magical Mystery Tour, will you write that bit?” And I was choked that he’d arranged it all with Mal anyway, for a kickoff, and had all this idea going”

St. Regis Hotel interview, Sept. 5, 1971

Mal also comes up when John discusses his recollections of the writing of Eleanor Rigby:

“So rather than ask me, “John, do these lyrics—” Because by that period, he didn’t want to say that – to me. Okay? So what he would say was, “Hey, you guys, finish off the lyrics,”... “ Now, I sat there with Mal Evans, a road manager who was a telephone installer, and Neil Aspinall, who was a not-completed student accountant who became our road manager. And I was insulted and hurt that he’d thrown it out in the air”...” There might be a version that they contributed, but there isn’t a line in there that they put in.“

Playboy interview, David Sheff 1980

John’s discomfort with the closeness of Paul’s relationship with Mal was something that wasn’t lost on Mal’s wife Lil:

“He was always at their beck and call. He was a nice fella to have around, so much so that it could provoke little jealousies within the band. When I met Yoko years after Mal died, she said John had told her he’d been very jealous at one point of Mal’s relationship with Paul.”

Lil Evans interview with Ray Connolly, 2005

Love interests - Linda McCartney

Throughout their friendship both John and Paul had quite a few love interests, which (to varying degrees) prompted jealousy between them.

Although John displayed jealousy of a few of Paul’s love interests this was no more apparent than with Paul’s first wife Linda McCartney, which is confirmed by both John’s words and actions regarding Linda and her partnership with Paul:

“"Then Klein informed Lennon that McCartney had secretly been increasing his stake in Northern Songs. ‘John flew into a rage,’ recalled Apple executive Peter Brown. ‘At one point I thought he was really going to hit Paul, but he managed to calm himself down.’ One unconfirmed report of this meeting had Lennon leaping towards Linda McCartney, his fists raised in her face"

Peter Doggett, You Never Give Me Your Money

"Int: When did you first meet her [Linda]? John: The first time I saw her was after that press conference to announce Apple in America. We were just going back to the airport and she was in the car with us. I didn't think she was particularly attractive, I wondered what he was bothering having her in the car for. A bit too tweedy, you know. But she sat in the car and took photographs and that was it. And the next minute she's married him."

St. Regis Hotel interview, Sept. 5, 1971

“I was reading your letter and wondering what middle aged cranky Beatle fan wrote it... "What the hell—it’s Linda! . . . Linda— if you don’t care what I say—shut up!—let Paul write—or whatever.”

"Of course, the money angle is important—to all of us—especially after all the petty shit that came from your insane family/in laws—and GOD HELP YOU OUT, PAUL—see you in two years—I reckon you’ll be out then"

Draft letter from John Lennon to Linda McCartney, circa 1971

"The presumption is a) the Beatles would get together again or are even thinking about it and b) if they got together, John and Yoko split, Paul and Linda split"

John (with Yoko) talks to John Fielding on Weekend World, 1973

"John often speculated on why Paul and Linda remained married while, at the same time, resenting their evident happiness, to the extent that he had Green do a tarot reading to ensure him that Paul and Linda were really secretly miserable and were going to divorce within a year"

According to Fred Seaman and John Green, source

Paul

Of course jealousy wasn't a one-way street in the Lennon-McCartney relationship. Unlike with John, for Paul I'm focusing more on the key people I believe his jealousy, regarding John, was directed to:

Stuart Sutcliffe

John met Stu at Art College and struck up a really close friendship with him. At the point that John met Stu, John had already become friends with Paul so Paul felt threatened when Stu entered the picture:

"When he [Stu] came into the band, around Christmas of 1959, we were a little jealous of him; it was something I didn’t deal with very well. We were always slightly jealous of John’s other friendships.

When Stuart came in, it felt as if he was taking the position away from George and me. We had to take a bit of a back seat."

Paul McCartney, Anthology 2000

"Paul was saying something about Stu’s girl – he was jealous because she was a great girl, and Stu hit him, on stage. And Stu wasn’t a violent guy at all."

John Lennon, 1967 Anthology 2000

"I looked up to Stu. I depended on him to tell me the truth. Stu would tell me if something was good and I’d believe him. We were awful to him sometimes. Especially Paul, always picking on him. I used to explain afterwards that we didn’t dislike him, really."

John Lennon, The Beatles Hunter Davies 1968

Yoko Ono

Of all the relationships I've already discussed, the relationship and jealousy displayed from Paul towards Yoko is probably the most widely discussed in Beatles historiography and general discourse. From the official start of Yoko's relationship with John in 1968 it was clear that Paul resented her presence in John's life and her proximity to the band:

"He even sent them [John and Yoko] a hate letter once, unsigned, typed. I brought it in with the morning mail. Paul put most of his fan mail in a big basket and let it sit for weeks, but John and Yoko opened every piece. When they got to the anonymous note, they looked puzzled, looking at each other with genuine pain in their eyes. ‘You and your Jap tart think you’re hot shit’, it said."

Francie Schwartz, Body Count 1972

"Cause she’s [Yoko] very much to do with it from John’s angle, that’s the thing, you know. And I – the thing is that I – there’s— Again, like, there’s always only two answers. One is to fight it, and fight her, and try and get The Beatles back to four people without Yoko, and sort of ask her to sit down at the board meetings. Or else, the other thing is to just realize that she’s there, you know. And he’s not gonna sort of – split with her, just for our sakes."

Paul McCartney, Let It Be Sessions, 1969

"I told John on the phone the other day that at the beginning of last year I was annoyed with him. I was jealous because of Yoko, and afraid about the break-up of a great musical partnership. It’s taken me a year to realise that they were in love. Just like Linda and me."

Paul McCartney, interview with Ray Connolly, 1970

What are the similarities and differences in the way jealousy manifested for John and Paul?

I think it's obvious but bears repeating that both John and Paul displayed jealousy towards other people who they felt would threaten their relationship so that's central to all the instances I have flagged, Jim, Mal, Linda, Stu, Yoko all posed real or imagined threats to John and Paul's partnership.

However, you'll note that I included more sources to display John's jealousy regarding Paul and that I categorised John's jealousy targets whereas I only pulled out two key individuals for Paul, this isn't to say that John was more jealous than Paul was, as jealousy isn't something you can quantify, but to highlight my opinion that Paul's jealousy regarding John was more targeted than John's jealousy regarding Paul. I think what stands out to me is that, I think generally Stu and Yoko are held up as the prime examples of Paul's jealousy of other people getting close to John, as far as we know, Paul never had significant issues with other people who formed close relationships with John like Pete Shotton, Cynthia Lennon, Magic Alex etc., why was that? I think that Paul was more threatened when he felt that John was replacing him so by bringing Stu into the band (even though he wasn't a musician) and Yoko into the studio (one instance where Paul was especially hurt was when John gave Paul's line in The Continuing Story of Bungalow Bill to Yoko to sing), Paul perhaps felt that his place as John's primary collaborator was in jeopardy and that he could lose a partnership that had become central to his self-worth as a person - that, I believe, was when his jealousy was most likely to rise to the fore. John, on the other hand, had a much wider range of targets when it came to jealousy regarding Paul, why was John jealous of Linda? Linda wasn't trying to replace John as Paul's collaborator, if anything she wanted the Lennon-McCartney partnership to be stronger. Why was John jealous of Mal? Mal wasn't a musician, Mal was a huge fan of the band and constantly worked to fulfil their requests, so why was John so threatened by his friendship with Paul? For me, John's jealousy regarding Paul was more than just a fear of directly being replaced, I believe John's jealousy was fundamentally triggered by a fear of abandonment. I think the childhood trauma John experienced, of being left by both his parents, meant that whenever any of his close friendships and relationships were threatened, or he felt that someone close to him may leave him, he would act out. John fell out with his childhood best friend Pete when he got a girlfriend, John hit Cynthia when he saw her dancing with Stu, John was rude to several of Paul's love interests and ultimately John never fully accepted Paul's relationship with Linda because, although he could see that she could offer Paul the family life he always wanted, John didn't want Linda to take Paul away and give him a family that meant that Paul would no longer be able to prioritise John in his life as he had in the past.

Ultimately, we'll never know all the ways that jealousy factored into John and Paul's relationship with each other and those around them, as I'm sure it impacted several relationships in more complex ways than I can articulate (i.e. I suspect jealousy played a part in Paul's initial resentment of Brian but they grew closer over time so maybe Paul's jealousy lessened over time or Brian became less of a threat?). I do think it's important to consider that jealousy was present on both sides and was likely a factor in the breakdown of John and Paul's relationship, the breakdown of the Beatles and was a continued factor in disrupting reconciliations between John and Paul into the 70s and 1980.

[harrywritingsbyme]

Wanna Make A Baby?

Based Off Of This Ask

And This One

This One Too

A/N: Older!Harry, dad!Harry, small!Y/n, and breeding kink all rolled into one The fluff is adorable and the filth is filthyyy! Enjoy🙃

It wasn’t uncommon for Harry to dream. He dreamt just about every time he closed his eyes and fell asleep. Dreaming was actually one of the highlights of his night. The first was being able to sleep next to you, and the second would be dreaming. When it came to the subject matter of his dreams, it varied every time. The only constant in his dreams would be you; that’s why he loved it so much. You’d be there right by his side doing whatever you were ‘supposed’ to be doing in his dream. At times, dreaming was a way for his mind to reveal his deepest thoughts and desires. And that’s what was happening this go round with Harry. 

In his dream you were there(of course), along with himself and two other people. As he walks out of the backdoor to you guys’ home and into the spacious backyard, his eyes go straight to a play structure that was in his line of sight. As he emerges from the house even more, he hears a small voice calling out to him. When Harry looks in the direction of the voice, he sees a small child coming down the slide of the large play structure with a big smile plastered across his face. Once the little boy is back on the ground, he immediately sprints over to Harry. While the boy is running over to his father, Harry crouches down so that he’d be on the little boys level and he waits for him. As the boy approaches, Harry’s able to get a better view of his features and he couldn’t believe his eyes. This boy, which Harry confidently presumed to he his son had just about every feature he had when he was that small. The only things that were missing were the straight blonde hair, and the green eyes. Those features were replaced by yours and he couldn’t be happier about that. After talking to the little boy, he agrees to play with him before pressing a kiss to his chubby cheek and sending him on his way so that he could talk to you for a moment. 

As the little boy runs back to the play structure, Harry stands back up and looks to his right, he sees you sitting contently in the shaded lounge area of you guys’ backyard. You had a book in one hand, while the other was delicately placed upon your very swollen and pregnant belly. There were no words that could be used by Harry to effectively and accurately describe the beauty that was radiating off of you. He would talk about how pretty you’d look if you were pregnant but now he was seeing it. The sight of you captivated Harry and drew him in. As he got closer and closer, Harry was able to fully take all of you in. He got to see every little detail. When he was right in front of you, he got to see the small floral print that was littered across your flowy dress. He was able to see your more rounded facial features better. And most importantly, Harry got to see your left hand that was adorned with the glistening diamond ring and wedding band he’d put on your finger almost three years ago resting right on top of the swell of your belly that was temporarily housing his child. He had the perfect view of the two things that symbolized your love for one another. Harry then sits down next to you and he sponges a light kiss to your exposed shoulder. Him doing this results in you sending a soft smile in his direction, which fills his body with a warm feeling. Harry then does the thing that he’d been wanting to do since he first laid eyes on you. He lifts his hand and brings it up to lower it down onto the upper curve your belly.  

Unfortunately, the moment he places his hand on your belly, is the exact moment he wakes up. His eyes shoot open and he’s instantly transported back to reality. He’s in the bed that he was lucky enough to share with you. Once his breathing stabilizes a bit and he takes in his surroundings, Harry’s hand begin to wander. He slowly but surely pulls his arm that was draped across your frame up and he begins to push his hand around your midsection. As he does this, he’s actively searching for some type of a bump. Even if it was a small one. To make sure his mind or hand wasn’t playing tricks on him, Harry brings it all the way up to your side and glides it down to where the lower hem of the shirt you were wearing began. He pushes his hand beneath the fabric and brings it back down to your stomach. It didn’t take long for Harry to realize that you weren’t in fact pregnant and that it was all just a dream.  

That’s the one thing Harry hated about dreams; you always wake up at the best part. When he came to the realization that you weren’t pregnant, his heart sank a little. He didn’t realize how much he wanted his own little family until now. He wanted to watch your body swell as you carried his child. He wanted to watch you be the best mother in the entire world. He wanted to have a child of his own that he could shower with love and affection. Harry wanted to be a dad and wanted to have every last thing he had in his dream. But he didn’t want to have to sleep in order to get it. In that moment, Harry felt like everything was taken from him. The only thing that he had left from that dream is you. This feeling inadvertently caused Harry to tighten his grip on you. Even though he didn’t want to wake you, Harry needed you more than ever right now. He buries his face into your neck and he begins to pepper soft kisses into your skin. He also coos softly into your ear for you to wake up. And it did do the trick.  

“What’s going on?” You grumble through your sleep. You could barely keep your eyes open but you could feel Harry’s mouth moving against your neck and his arm around your waist. 

“Just wanted t’say hello to my beautiful wife.” Harry hums, continuing to keep his face burrowed in your neck. Even though you were one of the sweetest human beings Harry’d ever met, you were still a bit cranky in the morning. And since he intentionally woke you up, he had a little bit of schmoozing to do. 

“Well it better not be before 8 am, because if it is I’ll kill you.” You grumble back to him, moving around a little bit so you could turn yourself towards him. 

“If I tell you that it’s 8:01 will you still kill me?” Harry asks jokingly (kind of). 

“I guess you’re safe.” You concede through a yawn, pushing yourself further into his body. 

“Good, and it’s actually quarter past 10.” Harry continues, looking over at the clock sitting on your bedside table for the actual time.

“You’re in the safe zone now.” You hum happily. “How’d you sleep?” You continue, beginning to feel awake enough to have a conversation with Harry. 

“Slept fine, but I had a pretty interesting dream though.” Harry simply replies. 

“Tell me about it.” You say back, lifting one of your legs and swinging it over his waist. You then push yourself up and over so that you’re sitting on his lap on top of him.

“Have I told you how beautiful you are?” Harry admires, sliding his hands up underneath your shirt to latch onto your hips. 

“I think so, but I’m always open for compliments.” You smirk, bringing your face down to his.

“You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever laid eyes on.” Harry hums back, slightly lifting his head to peck your lips.

“Thank you baby.” You coo softly. “Now tell me about your dream.” You say excitedly, lifting yourself back up to sit in his lap. Even though you were still a bit tired, you didn’t want to stop talking to Harry. 

“Alright.” Harry sighs, removing one of his hands that were on your hips to help lift himself up a bit. “So to make a long story short, we had a family. We had an adorable son who looked like the both of us, more like me, but still like the both of us, and you were pregnant. Which by the way, you looked even more stunning than I could’ve possibly imagined.” Harry explains, deciding to just give you a quick rundown of his dream rather than go through every last detail.

“That sounds nice babe.” You sigh softly, taking in everything he just said to you. Hearing him talk (and dream) about starting a family with you really warmed your heart. From the onset of you guys’ relationship you knew that you wanted to have a family with Harry. But now after being together for a total of almost 4 years and being married for about a year and a half of them, you were starting to realize that you and Harry were ready to take that next step in your lives and relationship. 

 “Yeah, but it made me think a bit more and I’m starting to feel like m’running out of time.” Harry says on a more sorrowful, but truthful note.  

“I thought the little guys never expire.” You reply, trying to get a better idea of where Harry was coming from. You weren’t expecting such a good and happy dream to make him sad like this.

“I mean late in life Y/n. M’getting older.” Harry explains further with a slightly frustrated huff. 

“You’re in your 30’s Harry.” You say in an attempt to reassure him. 

“Yeah, but 40 is right around the corner.” He reminds you. 

“Then you’ll be a dilf.” You reply, trying to show him the bright side of getting a little older. 

“You’re right, I would be a hot dad.” Harry agrees. 

“Exactly! So being a dad a little bit later in life isn’t so bad babe.” You reason, trying to cheer him up a bit more. You wanted him to really know that there was nothing wrong with being a dad at his age. You weren’t going to tell him this because if you did his head would swell to be the size of an actual planet (even though it wouldn’t take that much considering that he already had a pretty sizable head; upstairs and downstairs), but you thought that him being a bit older than you and being a first time dad was pretty hot. You couldn’t put your finger on why exactly you thought it was hot but you just did. Add onto that the fact that you’re married to him and you have successfully opened the floodgates. 

“You’d be an even hotter mom though. Like milf to the highest power.” Harry says bluntly. 

“Well thank you for your honesty.” You chuckle (and not so secretly roll your eyes) at his statement. After being with Harry for as long as you have, you weren’t shocked in the slightest at his comment. Him not making a comment like that would be more shocking. 

“M’serious babe! You’d even be a milf before the baby even arrived. Like your body is already perfect now, but just imagine how much more perfect you’d look with our baby in here.” Harry rations as he ever so slightly presses his thumbs into the sides of your lower stomach . “You’d be nice and round and delicious. Y’know how much I like having something to grab onto.” He continues. As he talks, his hands move up your sides and right to your chest where he wraps his large hands around your breasts.

“Well those won’t be yours anymore.” You say sternly to him before smacking his hands away through your shirt.

“What about this?” He asks, gliding his hands back down and around to your ass. 

“You can keep that for yourself I guess.” You sigh in compliance. “I swear, it’s so hard sometimes to figure out who’s the oldest in this relationship. For a man thats knocking on 40’s door, I’d expect you to be a little more tame.” 

“What can I say.” Harry begins, tightening his grip on the flesh of your ass before pulling you higher up onto his lap. “I just have a hot wife. Like your personality is amazing and I love you so much for being the sweetest human being alive but you’re gorgeous. I can honestly say that m’gonna want you ten times as much as I already do once you’re actually pregnant.” Harry’s says truthfully. The both of you couldn’t deny that he was in fact telling truth. There were a couple times where he accidentally blurted out how bad he wanted to get you pregnant. 

“Are you just saying all this because you wanna knock me up?” You ask him playfully. 

“Is it working?” Harry asks in response to your question. He meant every last word that came out of his mouth, but he was hoping that it’d soften you up a bit so that you’d give him the green light when it came to commencing the baby making process. 

“Maybe, but you still have a little ways to go.” Now you were just fishing for some praise; and rightfully so. Harry always wanted to hear you praise him. Whether it be in the form of moans, screams, and/or whimpers, or in the form of words; Harry just loved to be praised. Now it was your turn.

“You’d look so beautiful baby. You’re absolutely glowing and gorgeous now, but you’d have an unmatched glow once you’re pregnant.” Harry explains in awe, continuing his “campaign” to butter you up. He honestly couldn’t believe that your already elevated level of beauty could be raised. “But if I’m being honest, m’gonna miss y’tummy like this.” Harry explains the ‘downside’ to your more rounded figure during pregnancy. 

“Why’s that?” You ask confusedly. One minuet he was saying how much more beautiful you’d be if you were pregnant, and now he’s saying that he’s gonna miss your figure now. Which one was it?!

“M’just gonna miss seeing and feeling my cock in y’little tummy. Y’still gonna be irresistible, m’just gonna miss that.” He explains. 

“Don’t worry baby, I’ll feel it in there. I always do.” You reply to him. When you say that, Harry can feel his cock twitch in his pants. 

“Are you gonna let me put a baby in there?” Harry asks with a little pout. 

“I’d love to have a baby with you baby.” You coo in response, bringing your hands up to his cheeks to squish them together a little. You then bring your face down to his before puckering your own lips and pressing them against his. His lips then begin to move languidly against yours. As the kiss continues, your need for each other grows. You were keeping your bodies as close to each other as possible too. Your arms were now around his neck and his arms were tightly wrapped around your back underneath your shirt to keep you as high up on his lap as possible. As Harry kissed you, you could feel his cock hardening beneath you. He was already a bit swollen from the images of your body that were ingrained in his mind. Now he was getting even harder at the prospect of being able fill you up and get you pregnant. All he wanted to do now as fill you up with his cock, and ultimately fill you up with his baby. 

Keeping one arm wrapped securely around your smaller frame, Harry maneuvers you both so that he’s kneeling on the bed. He then lifts himself up with you still being in his lap and pushes forward so that you’re lying back against the bed with him on top of you. When he does this, you can tell that things are getting heated so you quickly push at his chest to momentarily stop the kiss.  

“Just because were having baby making sex doesn’t mean that I don’t expect you to completely ravish me.” You say pointedly, making sure he knows the exactly what you want. 

“I would never give you anything less.” Harry replies with a smirk before smearing his lips back onto yours. As he kisses you this time, he shifts his weight over onto one arm and he uses the other to push your shirt up your body. Once it was all the way up to your chest, he swiftly pulls away from your face and tugs the shirt off of your body. This leaves you completely bare other than your panties which is the next clothing item he has his sights on. He wastes no time hooking his fingers around the sides and he yanks them down off of you. He instructs you to lift your legs up and once you do this he rips the flimsy material the rest of the way off your body. He tosses them off to the side and he focuses back in on your now exposed body. As he admires all of your features, he imagines what they’d look like once he gets you pregnant. When he looks at your breasts, he thinks about how much larger and sensitive they’d be. He also thought about how the soft and supple flesh would fill his hands perfectly. When his eyes drifted a bit lower to your stomach, he had a very clear picture of how you’d grow as your pregnancy progressed. He was looking forward to seeing your belly grow. When he reaches your thighs and hips, he immediately thought of how much more of a rounded figure you’d have. All of these things made Harry’s mouth water and his cock twitch. “So beautiful.” Harry breathes before bending down to lick into you.

“Oh my god baby!” You moan, feeling his skilled tongue lick into you. You could feel the tip of his tongue circling your entrance and prodding at it. This only made you want and need him even more. “Need you inside me so bad.” You cry out to him, tangling your fingers in his hair to pull him up. When you say this, Harry sucks harshly on your clit before coming back up. He then shoves his boxers down to reveal his extremely hard cock. You could see his thick shaft standing proudly between his legs and you could see a small bead of precum beginning to emerge from his slit. Before coming in closer between your legs, Harry pushes back against your thighs so that your legs were spread as wide as possible for him. He places a tight grip on one side of your waist and he wraps his free hand around his cock. 

“Ready baby?” He asks, pushing his cock down your folds and stopping right at your entrance.

“So ready.” You pant, lifting your hips up a little against his cock.

“Good girl.” Harry hums before slowly beginning to push into you. As soon as he begins, your moans get louder.

“Oh my god! You’re so big!” You cry out to him, feeling the very familiar sting that came along with his cock stretching to fit inside your walls. Once he was a little bit inside of you, Harry’s hand leaves his cock and goes to the other side of your waist. Hearing you moan out to him like this from only having about an inch of his cock inside of you unlocked the raw and primal desire Harry had deep down inside of him. Add his desire to get you pregnant to this and he was a beast. Without warning Harry tightly grips onto your waist and he slams the rest of his cock into you. You then let out one of the loudest screams you’d ever made. The slight pain of him slamming all of his cock into you at once felt really good. You felt stretched, and you felt completely full. You could feel this fullness all the way in your stomach.

“Feel me in that pretty little tummy baby?” Harry pants smugly, already knowing the answer to his own question. All you could do was feverishly nod your head against the bed. You were too caught up in how full you were to even form a word in response.

“Good.” He simply states. And with this, he goes straight into pounding into you. The both of you could feel the raw passion radiating off of each other with every thrust. Even though Harry was shoving his cock deep into you over and over again, the both of you had one goal in mind. A baby. That’s what you both wanted, and this was how you two chose to get it. As he continues to thrust into you, Harry lowers himself down onto you. He wants you to really feel how deep he was inside of you. And he wanted to feel it for himself. Even though this is a slight change in position, it doesn’t stop Harry’s hard thrusts. He continues to slam his cock into you over again, pushing you both closer and closer to the edge with each one. You could feel his cock deep inside you, and Harry could feel his cock moving deep inside you. The two of you could also hear each others cries and moans, along with your praises better. You could hear his whimpers and moans at how good you felt around him accompanied with his growls of how he was gonna cum deep inside you. 

All of this made you want to sit on top of him and ride his cock for some reason. Even though your legs were mush, you still wanted to ride him. You wanted him to release every last drop of his cum inside of you and you knew just how to get him there.

“Wanna ride you.” You pant in his ear, continuing to claw at his back as his thrusts continued. Instead of verbally replying to you, Harry immediately lifts himself from you and flips you both over so that your straddling him with is cock still lodged between your walls. You were feeling an extreme warmth and tightness forming in the pit of your stomach and you were going to explode at just about any moment. It doesn’t take more than a second for you to start feverishly moving yourself up and down on his cock. Watching you become so desperate for a release pushed Harry even closer to unloading all of his cum into you.

“M’gonna cum soon baby.” He pants, lifting his hands from your hips to grasp your breasts in them.

“Don’t cum inside me baby. Forgot t’take my pill last night.” You whimper, continuing to push yourself back and forth against him. Even though you were just about completely out of it, you still had a little bit left to mess with Harry. When he heard this, all Harry could think about was the possibility of getting you pregnant right then and there. It was taking so much for Harry to not cum in that moment. While Harry’s trapped in his thoughts, you tug at one of his hands that were clasped around your breasts and you lower it down to your stomach which brings his attention back to you. Your next sentence lights a fire under Harry that pushes him right over the edge. “When you cum in me, our baby’s gonna be right in my tummy and I’m gonna grow and grow with our baby from all your love.” You pant down to him. 

At this, Harry removes his hands from your breasts and then flips you both so that you’re on your back and he’s on top of you. He wastes not time in getting back to slamming his cock into you. As he thrusts, you can feel his cock continuously slamming into the deepest part of you. He watches as your body quivers below him and he could feel your walls contracting around his cock. 

“Cum with me baby.” This was all Harry had to say in order for you to fall apart on his cock. Which in turn caused him to release as well. 

“Fuck!” You scream, feeling not only your extremely powerful release, but also feeling the thick and warm ropes Harry’s cum splashing against your walls.

“That’s it baby, take all m’cum.” Harry pants. He could his body become weaker and weaker with every rope of his cum that flooded your body. “Tighten up f’me baby.” Harry instructs, bring his hand up to your face to give you a couple light taps. Once he feels your walls clenching around him, he brings his arms around you back and he lays himself down so that you’re lying on top of him.

Once he does this, the both of you lay there for a good five minutes. You two were not only trying to gain feeling in your bodies, but you both were wrapping your heads around it all. There was a possibility that you two were going to have a baby. 

“I just know you’re gonna spoil the shit out of this kid.” You sigh, finally coming back to for you guys’ post sex chat. 

“Why do you say that?”

“Because you spoil the shit outta me!” You reply with a laugh. “And I expect nothing less with our baby.” You continue

“Well you’re my baby and you’re going to be carrying our future baby. So you both will be my babies that I love more than life itself which means that I’ll spoil you both rotten. Which speaking of babies, how many are we looking at? I was thinking 2.” Harry ponders.  

“Same.” You agree. “What if we have twins though?” You continue, thinking about all of the possibilities. 

“Then 4 kids.” Harry replies

“When you said that, my uterus trembled.” You tell him truthfully. 

“M’pretty sure that was just an aftershock from my dick.” Harry says proudly. 

“I doubt it.” You say smugly.

“Do I need to come over there and fuck yeh again? Because I will.” Harry says matter of factly.

“You’re getting older babe, don’t want you to kill yourself.” You laugh, bringing your hand up to his cheek.

“You’re gonna get it later.” Harry says, reaching up to pluck your hand off of him. “Just because you’re younger than me, doesn’t mean that I can’t go all day long.”

“I’ll be waiting patiently.” You hum. “Don’t want you to break a hip or anything.”

“Now y’really gonna get it.” Harry grumbles before sending a quick swat to your ass. 

The both of you had a feeling that this wouldn’t do the trick. But judging by how well this step of the baby making process went, you and Harry were more than willing to do it again. 

Masterlist

[oigimi]

. vincent, mozart, and arthur with children! .

. i wanna do sebas jean and napoleon next teehee .

Vincent

Vincent’s baby is a little boy with his golden hair and your eye color.

He’s got his father’s kissable cheeks and adorable smile!

Vincent was born to be a father

He always insists on changing baby’s diapers and burping him and getting up in the middle of the night to soothe him.

His favorite thing to do is cuddle the baby while he sleeps.

He’s just so warm and peaceful and cute!

Sometimes he wraps the baby in his scarf.

Of course Vincent is gonna have an ocean of art supplies for your son to play with

The stuff he has is good, but he wanted to go out and get stuff just for the baby to play with.

And he wanted to be sure it was child-safe!

Vincent gushes over every piece of work your son makes.

“I love the colors you chose! That’s such a beautiful shade of green!”

You explain to Vincent how in your time, parents sometimes put children’s drawings on the refrigerator.

He loves this idea.

It’s not just the refrigerator that hosts your son’s artwork, it’s the whole kitchen!

Eventually Sebastian complains about the amount of room the little Van Gogh’s masterpieces are taking up, so Vincent moves them to his art room.

He likes being able to see them anyway.

The little boy loves Uncle Theo so much.

He follows him around when he isn’t following Mommy or Papa.

For his birthday Theo gives him a plushie of a golden retriever!

Your son can’t stop giggling and thanking his uncle, and decides to name the plushie King after the real dog.

He’s a sweet boy, and steals the hearts of everyone in the mansion.

One day he’s going to get one of his own pieces hung up in a gallery for all the world to see.

Vincent cheers him on, adoring everything his baby boy puts out.

He’s known since the moment his son was born that he was going to be fantastic.

Mozart

Mozart’s baby is a little girl with white hair and purple eyes just like him.

But her face looks exactly like yours!

At first, Mozart was very apprehensive at the idea of having a baby.

Babies create messes and make noise, his two least favorite things in the world.

Plus, what if he doesn’t even like the baby?

His fears keep him up all night, leaving him hoping he can be a good father to your child.

But when his daughter is born, all his worries and inhibitions melt away.

The only thing he can think of is how much he wants to hold his daughter and protect her from all of the scary things this world has to offer.

Her little coos and sounds are music to his ears.

Mozart wants his daughter to love music just as much as he does.

He plays music for her all the time

When she’s upset, when she’s cranky, when she’s playful, when she’s happy, there’s always a song playing just for her.

Mozart affectionately calls her his Mäuschen, his little mouse.

She’s quiet like him, but just so sweet and friendly.

And she loves her Vati more than anything in the world.

She always wants to hug Mozart and play dollies with him and show him her blossoming piano skills.

Your daughter is a very talented pianist, even as a little kid!

She wants to be like Vati, so she always spends time at the piano, playing out of a little book of sheet music Mozart bought for her.

One day, your daughter decides she wants to hold a concert for everyone in the house!

So everyone crams into Mozart’s music room, and stands around as they watch your little girl play “Twinkle Twinkle Little Star”, giving her a large round of applause when she’s done.

Mozart couldn’t be more proud of her.

He scoops her up in his arms and kisses her cheek, praising the primadonna for her excellent performance.

Someday she’s going to be traveling across the world, playing in concerts for all to hear.

And Mozart may or may not tear up when she has to leave.

As he hugs her after her little concert for the mansion, he can’t help but think to himself

That he wants his little Mäuschen to stay his little girl forever.

His daughter truly changed his life.

Arthur

Oh, how far he’s fallen from the man he used to be!

A few years ago Arthur was a frivolous womanizing playboy, but now not only is he married, but he’s having a child!

As big of a change as it is, Arthur can’t complain one bit about it.

He adores being your spouse, and having you as his one and only.

He wouldn’t trade that for the world

And now his little family is about to grow.

He’s very excited for his new baby

A little girl with your hair color and his blue eyes, and his beauty mark.

The first thing you notice is her smile looks exactly like his.

Not his cocky smile, but the true smile Arthur shows you when he’s truly happy.

Arthur has wasted no time preparing for the baby.

He’s fantastic with children, and adores them, so he wanted her room decorated nice and pretty for her to have fun and play in.

Fairies are real, he insists, so your daughter’s room is full of fairies and pixies and all sorts of little storybooks about them.

Some of those storybooks were written for her by Arthur himself.

He’s written poems about her, stories about her, and so many little tales inspired by the little daughter that he loves so much.

Aside from her mole, there’s another thing your daughter inherited from Arthur

His cleverness.

She’s very clever, and manages to play the both of you for little things, like an extra cookie or staying up past bedtime a few moments longer.

Arthur is aware of this, by the way. He just thinks it’s absolutely hilarious.

There’s a little him running around!

A lesson Arthur is going to teach her is about men, and how to not let anyone manipulate her or get with her for favors.

He’s quite protective of her, and is definitely the type of dad a boyfriend should fear.

He can deduce bad intentions just from a single glance.

One time, your daughter asked why Arthur’s name is on his books. When he explained it’s because he made it, she wants to make a book so her name is on it too.

Arthur gives her a task, to draw about ten pictures, and he’ll make a story with them.

When she completes the task, and Arthur strings together a story, he gets the book published with only three copies: One for you, one for him, and one for his daughter.

It’s his favorite book he’s ever published, and can’t help but tear up when he thinks about how wonderful his life is now that he has you and his little girl.

He said you’re the only one he’d ever love, but now he might need to make room for one more.

[safebubblebycyg]

oh, what was that? trans remus??? yes PLEASE:

-washes his binder...never?? james or sirius always does it for him, peter wont touch it because "merlin knows how long it's been, moony"

-trans werewolf? yeah that's fun, two times of the month, how cute

-not cute. they've synced up before and the only person allowed in the dorm was reg and that was only because he was the quietest out of everyone remus knew

-"you think i can cry out all the estrogen?"

-rambles to madam pomfrey about how likely the wolf is to just rip off his chest completely and how it would be the only thing he could ever thank the wolf for

-extra cranky if he breaks a rib during the moon because he gets banned from binding

-the real reason his posture is so bad

-his dad never taught him how to shave or tie a tie so sirius does both for him

-got told he screamed like a girl once so he sat in the dorms practicing his screaming until he lost his voice (sirius may or may not have turned said persons skin green)

-the reason he started knitting was so that he could make clothes that fit him the way he wanted them to

-didnt eat for a week because he was positive that he chewed too feminine

-sirius tends to end up with a remus on top of him most nights with a mumbled request of "can you help me take my binder off, my shoulders hurt too much" because the little shit wears it from like 7am to 2am (until james found out. james was not very happy. james is a scary mother hen.)

-hits the high note in bohemian rhapsody with a mixture of the lack of his voice completely dropping and the whole howling thing from his furry little problem

-doesnt go to class some days because the dysphoria is just overwhelming

-snape is an ass about it, purposely misgendering him "have you seen *deadname*, professor slughorn requested that i hand her back her assignment." "...we dont know a *deadname* do we prongsie?" "no, 'fraid not snivilly, we do know a remus though! we'll be happy to hand this assignment to HIM once HE gets back from HIS library trip with evans, merlin knows what they're up to in there, shes a big fan of his non-greasy curls" (james willingly ignores his love for lily because james said trans rights (he may or may not have an shirt that says "stags say trans rights"))

-voice cracks that marlene copies all the damn time "hEy have you seen siRi" "nO" "fuck you mcKinnon"

-demands sirius cuddle with him during his period. no asking, d e m a n d s

-peter once thwacked remus in the chest and he legit yelled "oW MY TITS, PETE" before he could think and the entirety of their friend group went silent because deadass most of them forgot remus was trans so it was a mass of confusion

-the amount of trans jokes- "hey james, do you know what my favourite subject is?" "uh, you seem to enjoy ancient ruins alright" "trans-figuration"

-"the t in remus john lupin is for testosterone" "moony, theres no t-" "temus tohn tupin."

-"if you're a sad gay trans werewolf clap your hands" "why didnt you clap?" "im bi"

-super deep into the spiderman is trans theory

remus lupin is trans and i will take this to my grave (hAVE YOU SEEN HIS FITS???? THE LAYERS?????)

[toxophilitis]

Hot Daughter Peeps  cont

CHAPTER NINE

Tracy's horny little plan worked like a charm. The secret was in the timing. She had already schooled Al in his part of the plan, and the next day all she had to do was wait for her mother to get in the right mood.

There was no school, so Tracy stayed home with her mother and watched her turn into an irritated, cranky, grouchy lady as the hours wore on. Carol had been getting fucked a lot lately and now, suddenly, she wasn't getting any.

"Tracy? Don't you want to go out and play?" Carol finally asked. "You can watch TV tonight."

"No, Mom," Tracy said, eyes peeled to the game show. "I don't feel like going out."

She smiled to herself, knowing that Carol was dying to get to her magazines and vibrator. Tracy's presence prevented that, and the little nymph loved it. Her mom was horny and that's what Tracy wanted. The hornier Carol was, the better.

By four o'clock, Carol was a nervous wreck.

She paced the floors. She ate beyond her diet.

She drank too much coffee. And sweet little Tracy looked like she was oblivious to her mother's condition.

Over dinner, Tracy said, "Can we have that woman-to-woman talk now?"

"No, darling," Carol said. "I'm not in the mood."

"But you said you were going to tell me why I should stay away from Mr. Benson."

"I already did. Now don't nag."

"You used to like him," Tracy said. "What happened to change your mind? Please tell me."

Carol looked into her daughter's innocent blue eyes and couldn't bring herself to tell her the horrible truth.

"I'm sorry I brought it up. It's not something I should talk to you about now. Maybe when later."

"Oh, mother! I'm not a child!"

Carol covered Tracy's hand with hers. "I don't want to hurt you," she said.

"It'll do you good to talk about it," Tracy said. "That's what you always tell me. Why don't you let me be your friend and not just your daughter?"

Carol studied her daughter's face for a moment. Tracy's sincerity melted her resolve to keep the secret. Suddenly, a tear came to her eye, and the next thing Tracy knew, she was pouring her heart out. Her story was the same as Al Benson's -- Mr. Arnold and Mrs. Benson ran off together to God knows where, and there was never a divorce.

"Oh, Tracy," Carol finished. "I didn't ever want to tell you."

"I'm not hurt," Tracy said, with drier eyes than her mother s.

"You're not?"

"Of course not. Gee, Mom, where have you been? You read the papers. You watch TV. This is the age for divorces and new relationships. I think it's super!"

"You do?"

"Sure! I know about you and Phil."

"What?" Carol gasped. Tracy was tempted to tell her she had seen them naked in bed, fucking their brains out, but she decided against it.

"Well, I know you weren't just holding hands. I mean, you're both adults."

Carol looked nonplussed. "What's this world coming to? My daughter is freer than I am!"

"You can be free, too, Mom. Just let yourself go. And stop thinking I'm a little girl who doesn't know anything and has to be protected."

"I don't know," Carol murmured. "That's an awful big step for a mother to take."

They chatted some more while they did the dishes together. Tracy steered the conversation back to Mr. Benson.

"Is that why you're mad at Mr. Benson? Because his wife took dad away from you?"

"Yes!"

"But that wasn't his fault," Tracy said, putting a dish away. "Why blame him?"

Carol turned and peered at her daughter quizzically. "How did you get so smart? You're right. I never stopped to think that way. He didn't have anything to do with it."

"Right," Tracy said with a little laugh. "And he suffers, too. I mean, if he has to watch dirty movies, he must be in terrible pain."

"We won't talk about that, young lady," Carol said firmly.

That was okay with Tracy. The ice was broken. The seed was planted. Now it was time for the final stage of her plan.

"Mom, can I go to the movies?" she asked. "You're exasperating, Tracy. You sit home all day watching TV, then when a good movie's coming on, you want to go out. Well, go ahead, but be home by midnight."

Tracy was home ten minutes after she left the house. She slipped in by the kitchen door and hid herself in the hall closet. From there, she watched her mother on the sofa. Then she saw Carol turn the TV off and go to her room.

Tracy stole out of the closet and tip-toed into the living room. She got down on all fours and crawled over to the sofa. Rising up, she peeked over the back of the sofa and saw just what she thought she'd see. Carol had the shoebox on her bed and she was getting undressed.

Tracy watched with bated breath as her pretty mother made herself beautifully naked. Her pubic hair was a big black bush. Tracy saw her sit on the bed and apply the vibrator to her pussy.

Satisfied, Tracy back-tracked and snuck out the kitchen door. She dashed over to Al Benson's house and rapped an his door.

When she opened it, she laughed excitedly and said, "Now!"

She was back in the hall closet when the front doorbell rang. She peeked and saw her mother come out of the bedroom in her bathrobe, a terry-cloth thing that was really too small for her, especially across her huge tits.

"Al!" she said, a little startled by his appearance.

Al was wearing nothing but an old pair of cut-offs. "Can I come in, Carol? I saw Tracy go out, and saw your light on."

"Is something wrong?"

"No, not at all. I'd just like to talk to you -- if you don't mind."

"Well, I was going to bed early..."

"I could come back tomorrow."

"No, that's all right. Come in."

Tracy smiled with relief. She cracked the door a little wider and watched Al and her mother move to the sofa. Her ears perked up.

"There's something I've been wanting to say for a long time," Al began in a kind of voice that thrilled Tracy. "I understand how you would hold it against me for what happened, but I'd really like to be your friend again."

"I was thinking about that today," Carol said.

"Do you think we could be friends?"

His eyes roamed over her half-naked tits and thighs. Her eyes ran over his hairy chest and chunky crotch. They looked as tense as two teenagers about to neck. Tracy stifled a giggle.

Suddenly Al's mouth was on Carol's and their arms went around each other in a passionate embrace. Tracy's hand flew to her tits and she rubbed them hard as they kissed. This was super exciting for Tracy.

She was wearing an old blue mini-dress, and her tits felt great in it. Her nipples stood out and made little bumps of their own as she played with them. She gave a little moan as her tits were aroused by her fingers end by what she was looking at.

Al had Carol's robe wide open. "You're beautiful," he said hotly, feeling one of her big tits. "I always thought you were, you know."

"No," Carol whispered. "I didn't know."

"Remember the last picnic? You were wearing a green halter and matching shorts. You drove me crazy that day. Every time you moved, I wanted to attack you."

Tracy put a hand over her mouth to silence herself. She knew that Al didn't remember a damned thing about that day, much less what Carol Arnold was wearing. Tracy had supplied him with all the details, knowing that her mother would find it romantic. It worked.

"I didn't think you even noticed me," Carol breathed, letting him explore her tits freely.

"I guess I'm not as bold as your husband," Al said, slipping one hand down to her bushy twat. "He saw what he liked, and took it."

Carol tittered like a teen. "It looks like you're taking what you like."

He sure was! Tracy thought hotly, eyes wide on the horny scene. Al pressed Carol back against the sofa and wedged his hand between her thighs, and his big finger disappeared into her muff. Tracy gawked and rubbed her pussy hotly.

Al's mouth captured Carol's and they took turns sucking tongues. Carol's hand slipped over onto Al's lap and Tracy saw her deft fingers get his cut-off's open and his big stiff dick out. Al finger-fucked Carol's cunt and she jerked his prick.

"Take me to bed," Carol suddenly breathed hotly.

Tracy watched as they made their way around the sofa and into the bedroom. Then she took her little dress off and crept naked in all fours to the sofa. She peeked over it and saw her mother push the vibrator and magazines aside and lay down flat on her back, legs wide open.

"Give it to me," she heard her mother rasp. Tracy crouched, knees shaking as she watched Al drop his cut-offs and climb onto the bed between Carol's outstretched legs. She licked her lips as Al slid his massive cock into Carol's juicy cunt and she finger-fucked her own juicy cunt as Al fucked her mother.

From her new vantage point, Tracy could see all of her mother's hot pussy and could easily see Al's rigid prick drill into her hot, writhing body. It was doubly exciting for her because her mother was getting fucked by the nicest man she'd ever met.

Her excitement mounted by the minute and, as Al's big cock slaughtered Carol's grinding cunt, she squeezed her ills hard and finger-fucked her pussy hornily. Her cute little ass quivered and her legs trembled as she came on her drilling finger.

After a short one, she crept on all fours around the sofa and into her mother's bedroom. She crawled around the bed to the side and Al fucking away lustfully.

"Jesus!" he groaned.

"Wh-what's the matter?" Carol gasped hotly.

"Nothing, nothing," Al groaned into her ear. "Your pussy's so tight."

Tracy stifled a giggle and reached one hand up onto the bed. It felt around, found her mother's vibrator, and pulled it down with her. Smiling triumphantly, she rolled under her mother's bed and fucked herself with the vibrator while the bed overhead jounced and jiggled violently.

She didn't dare turn it on, but she had lots of fun with it anyway. As Al fucked Carol's cunt more and more overhead, Tracy drilled the thick dildo in and out of her squirmy, squishy pussy-hole. It felt great!

"I'm cumming!" Carol screeched.

"Good," Al grunted hornily. "I want you to."

"But what about you?" Carol gasped.

"Don't worry about me. I like fucking your pussy. And I want you to enjoy it."

"Ohhhh, I doooo," Carol whined, churning her ass faster on the bed. "I-I -- oh! Al! It's -- cummmiiinnnggg!"

The bed rocked crazily then as she came wetly and vibrantly. Al fucked all of his stony cock into her pussy and his hot nuts slapped her asscheeks wetly as she came all over him. She had a gushy cunt.

Tracy listened to the sexy sounds of her mother and worked the vibrator faster in and out of her twisty cunt-hole. She got it deep inside her belly and churned hornily on it, fucking herself deep to get tremendous feeling up her cunt. She came like crazy on it.

"Ohhhhh, ahhhhh," Carol moaned, shuddering with ecstasy. "That was good! Why don't you cum now?"

"Not yet," Al said thickly, one of his fingers diddling her squirmy asshole.

"Al! What are you doing?"

"Have you ever been fucked in the ass, Carol?"

"Goodness, no!"

"I want to fuck it," Al groaned.

Carol shook all over, but said nothing to the horny idea. Her husband had never thought of doing such a thing. Maybe because she had come off as such a saint about sex. But then, Phil hadn't fucked her in the ass either.

Tracy switched the vibrator from her wet cunt to her tight little asshole when she heard the bed squeak as her mother changed positions. She heard Al direct her to get her knees farther apart.

Tracy spread her pretty legs real wide and, recalling Al's big cock up her own ass, she inched the soaked vibrator into her hot ass. Then, as Al fucked her mother in the ass with his monstrous cock, she fucked her own asshole with the thick vibrator. She had all she could do to keep from crying out the way her mother did.

"Al! Al!" Carol cried. "Oh, my God! So that's what it feels like! Ohhhhh, I didn't know your prick was so huge! Jean was crazy to leave you! Ohhhh, fuck me, Al, fuck meeee!"

"Hang onto your pillow," Al said hotly. "I'm going to give you something special, something you've never had before."

With that promise, he pulled his soaked cock out of her clenching asshole and drilled it into her cunt. Then he pulled it out of her cunt and drilled it into her asshole. Back and forth, again and again, he serviced both her fuck-hole, faster and faster. Carol's fuck-holes both got drenched with her cum and they took his prick willingly, hotly, eagerly.

Al gritted his teeth with intense pleasure and fucked the hell out of her body. Even when he shot his load, he fucked it into both orifices, delighting the hell out of Carol. Never in her life had she had such a marvelous, fucking experience.

"Ohhhh, ahhhh," she wailed, cunning wildly, "where have you been all my life? Ohhhh, I've been married to the wrong man! Ummmmm, I'm cumming so much!"

Under the bed, Tracy got on all fours and, with her hot hands between her legs, fucked all of the vibrator into her tight, squirming asshole. Then, as if she knew what Al had done, she fucked the plastic sex toy into both her holes, one at a time, until she came again, shivering from head to toe as her young pussy creamed.

[peralta-guaranteed]

More HCs about Mac being a big brother

(yes I was supposed to get more than 4 hours of sleep last night no I was not up half the time thinking about this)

- while he’s sceptical about Maya as a baby, he definitely goes full big-brother-obsessed when she gets to the toddling stage and he deems himself The Protector and they basically don’t need to find anyone to babysit because he’s always watching her

- likewise there comes a time when Maya wants to be with him at all times and do what he’s doing and know what’s going on and Mac? Where Mac? Wha’ doin’ Mac?

- she’s right at that phase when he starts reading little, easy short story books (Amy is so proud) and so he lets her climb into his lap with the book in front of them like Jake does with both of them during story time, and he tells her about the short stories he’s already finished reading (because reading out loud to others is still a bit difficult). Amy cries only a little bit when she sees them snuggled up on the book nook armchair like that

- when she starts her first year at Mac’s elementary school, Jake makes him promise that he’ll look out for her a little bit, but Mac’s afraid his classmates will make fun of him when they see him constantly play with a ‘stupid first grader’ (kids are mean yo) so he vows to pretend like he doesn’t know her instead. But then he sees her alone in a corner during first recess, scared like hell now that mom+dad are not there anymore, and he goes over and holds her hand and shows her all the cool corners of the playground and brings her over to her classroom when recess is over

- Amy picks them up after school’s afternoon playtime (is that a thing in the US? Basically we’d stay for 1-2 hours after school like another round of recess if parents had to work longer) while Jake waits in the car because of the shit parking situation. Maya’s once perfect little braid is a knotted mess and her knees are scraped up and her skirt is covered in dust, Mac’s jeans and elbows don’t look much better, but they’re holding hands again and Amy hugs a squealing Maya when she asks if she had a good first day at school. They both beam at her with that smile she used to only know from their dad.

- he teases Maya and bothers her all the time, big brother stylez, but he picks his first actual fight at school when he hears that second grade Maya is being bullied by some boy from his grade. The school calls Jake + Amy because he actually has a black eye and the other kid has lost two baby teeth. He does not get punished for it at all by them once he explains. (They all go for fancy ice cream instead instead of the smoothie popsicles they usually are allowed)

- when Maya gets her first loose tooth, Mac convinces her that once the first one falls out all the others will follow really quick and she’ll have no teeth for a few months and will have to eat nothing but mashed potatoes and jello. Amy finds her trying to tape her wiggling tooth up somehow and it ends up pulling it out when she tries to remove the sticky tape and Maya is unconsolable until she finally explains through the sobs. Amy scolds Mac of course but Jake will definitely laugh about the prank when she tells him later that night.

- Mac convinces Maya of many things that are equally funny and troublesome. If you let the TV on too late at night, the people in the shows get super-tired and cranky like daddy sometimes gets in the morning if there’s no coffee so Maya waddles into the room long after bedtime and scolds Jake + Amy for watching their recorded shows. Kiwis actually come from little fluffy birds and all other round-ish fruits also come from different birds and Maya refuses to eat any fruit for weeks. If you run up the stairs at grandma’s house fast enough time actually goes backwards and you go back down and Maya faceplants and loses another baby tooth.

- During a summer sleepover at the grandpas’ house, they get to sleep outside! in a tent!! as a special treat (inside the fenced off garden, within direct view of Holt’s bedroom window, with Cheddar with them as a guard dog). Mac obviously wants to tell Maya spooky stories as you’re supposed to do during camping and as a big brother, but then Cheddar does one little bark at some bird and Maya shrieks and practically jumps over onto Mac’s sleeping mat and he cuddles her as the little spoon instead until they both fall asleep.

- they make a joint birthday gift for Jake during arts&crafts time at the library after-school program. It’s a multipurpose pen holder / mug / vase / decorative piece of art. Basically it’s a cup with dry pasta glued on, covered in paint and green glitter (turtle green, Mac explains). The pasta is supposed to spell Best Dad and if he squints hard enough Jake can almost read it. He promises to put it on his desk and actually clears off some of his clutter for it so it gets a prime spot.

- but before that, he puts it on his nightstand so he won’t forget it in the morning. It’s only minutes after they kissed goodnight and the light next to the cup has been turned off that Amy hears sniffling and reaches over to cup his cheek. He’s not crying, but he’s pretty damn close. “I can’t believe I almost missed out on all this.” He whispers and her heart aches. “I want to go back in time and punch myself in the face for thinking I don’t want kids.” “Don’t go back to punch yourself. Go back and explain what great things you’d miss out on. Like the fact that a dollar-store mug with glittery noodles on it will be the best birthday gift ever.” Amy whispers back as she strokes his cheek and he laughs, because she always knows how to make him laugh, and god he loves her and how she makes him feel better about himself and his role as the world’s Best Dad.

[erin-bo-berin]

Thing 1 and Thing 2

MASTERLIST

This was a requested fic of Garvez meeting Spencer’s twins for the first time and oh MAN did this fic make me want to incoporate Garvez more in future Spencer fics. I hope this incredibly fluffy, daddy Spencer fic will brighten your Monday. Happy reading!

Spencer Reid/Reader

Rating: G (fluff)

Word Count: 2,420

“Out of my way, I’ve got babies to see!”

You laughed, hearing the outburst of your friend Penelope Garcia coming from the living room. 

You grabbed the dirty diaper you’d just changed and threw it out, picking up the cooing, wriggling baby off the changing table.

Two weeks ago, you and your husband Spencer welcomed two little bundles of joy into your lives. A set of fraternal twins, fondly known to his work family as the Reid Twins, had come into the world in the middle of the night.

Thankfully, with no complications you had been fortunate to avoid a cesarean and were able to deliver both vaginally.

At 3:33 a.m. Spencer Alexander Reid—Alex for short—had come into the world with a powerful cry. All 5 pounds 8 ounces of him was perfect.

Eight minutes later, his sister Abrielle Jade Reid—Abbie for short—followed. She was the quieter one, taking a few moments to begin to cry and with less volume than her brother. She was 5 pounds 3 ounces of perfection, as well.

Spencer’s coworkers had been dying to meet the babies, Penelope Garcia being the most eager. Spencer had refused you any visitors for at least two weeks. Labor had been rough, even though it wasn’t a C-Section, you’d had a lot of pain and newborn twins were definitely a challenge. Finally though, Spencer gave the green light for visitors and of course Garcia had to be the first. 

You walked out to the living room, carrying Alex in your arms. There on the couch was Penelope and her boyfriend, another coworker of hers and Spencer’s, Luke Alvez.

It was no surprise that she’d already snatched Abbie from Spencer. You chuckled, greeting them.

“Hey guys.”

Penelope looked up, hearts in her eyes. You could tell that from across the room.

“Is that Alex? Let me have him too.”

You laughed, handing Alex to her as well.

“It’s like double the love! Double the cuteness!”

“She may have a brain aneurysm over all the cute,” Luke laughed.

“Y/N, you make the most beautiful babies,” she said, in awe as she stared down at them.

“Hey!” Spencer protested from across the room, “I helped too.”

“Yes but you’re already a pretty boy, your kids were gonna be beautiful regardless. Besides, Y/N carried them for the last eight months. I’m giving her some much needed credit.”

Spencer held his hands up in surrender, smiling. It would do no good to argue with Garcia.

“Keep an eye on her, she might try to slip one out with her when we leave,” Luke joked.

“I would if I could,” she beamed, “I claim babysitting rights.”

Garcia looked at you knowingly and you grinned.

“You will always be our first choice of babysitter,” you chuckled.

“I want to hold one of them, if that’s okay,” Luke said.

“Yeah, of course,” you nodded, picking up Alex out of Penelope’s arms.

“Do you even know how to hold a baby?” Garcia asked, brow quirked.

“No, but it can’t be that hard, can it?”

“It’s really not,” you assured, “But just don’t be afraid to hold onto them tightly because they squirm.”

You placed Alex in Luke’s arms and he held him awkwardly.

“Don’t be nervous. They can sense when you’re nervous and uncomfortable,” you said.

“Support his head!” Penelope said, “You’re squishing him.”

“No I’m not, look. He’s happy,” Luke grinned.

Alex’s hands were curled into tiny fists, resting on either sides of his face as he gave a big yawn.

“They’re a little milk drunk right now,” you laughed, “I made sure to feed them before you came over so they wouldn’t be as cranky.”

Alex’s eyes opened, staring at Luke, his brows creased as if confused.

“Yeah you don’t know that face, do you?” Penelope cooed to him, “That’s uncle Luke and I’m auntie Penelope.”

She tickled one of his feet with her free hand.

“These kids are going to be so spoiled by you alone, Garcia,” Spencer said.

“Of course! It comes with the territory of being an auntie,” she scoffed.

Abbie stretched and wriggled in Garcia’s arms, beginning to fuss.

“Oh I’m sorry, sweetie,” she cooed, repositioning Abbie in her arms, “I wasn’t paying any attention to you and that’s not cool, is it?”

“Dude, how the heck did you manage twins?” Luke asked, incredulously.

“Actually,” Spencer began, but you interrupted him.

“Don’t get him started. I asked him the same thing a few months ago and ended up learning more about sperm than I ever thought I’d know.”

“Hey, you asked,” Spencer shrugged.

Alex gurgled in Luke’s arms and he looked up, wide eyed.

“What’s wrong? Is he okay?”

“Relax,” Garcia side eyed him, “He’s just making baby noises.”

“What is it with men and panicking at their every sound?” you asked, flabbergasted.

“I feel like there’s a story behind this,” Garcia looked just as amused as she sounded.

“Oh, there is.”

You sat down in one of the arm chairs across from them, ready to tell your story. Spencer already looked sheepish before you even opened your mouth.

“A couple of weeks ago, when they were only a day or two old, I had finally gotten them to sleep and had just gotten to sleep myself when apparently one of them made some sort of noise. Spencer practically pounces on me, afraid something is wrong with one of them. They were literally just sleeping.”

Penelope cackled, Luke looked amused and Spencer looked even more sheepish, if that was possible.

“What did you tell him?” she asked.

“Well in my defense, I was sleep deprived, sore as hell from childbirth and cranky so I told him that they were sleeping and to go back to bed before I knocked him out with my fist.”

This time both Luke and Garcia died laughing.

“Hey, so I was worried! They’re my first kids. It’s not like they come with instructions,” Spencer protested.

“Ah man, that’s hilarious,” Luke grinned.

“Hey Spence, remember when you were so terrified to hold Henry when he was born?” Garcia asked.

“No way. Really?” You looked from Garcia to Spencer, curious.

You hadn’t met Spencer until five years ago. After dating for two years, you got married. So most of his early days at the BAU were stories to be told to you.

You loved Jennifer Jareau’s sons, Michael and Henry. Spencer, of course, was their godfather. He was amazing with them and loved those kids like they were his own, so you knew he’d be an amazing dad. It was just hard to believe there’d been a time when he was actually afraid to hold a baby. 

You and Spencer had been dating about a year when JJ’s second born, Michael, had arrived. You clearly remembered Spencer holding him with no issue. Apparently, he’d come a long way.

“Oh yeah, JJ put him in Spence’s arms and he looked like a fish out of water, he didn’t know what to do. Ironically, he was a natural and Henry was such a laid back baby,” she answered.

“Dude, I’m telling you, your genes are strong,” Luke commented, looking back and forth between the twins, “They look exactly like you.”

“Unfortunate, isn’t it?” Spencer teased.

You hit his stomach lightly.

“They’re adorable, hush.”

“Never said they weren’t,” Spencer beamed.

“How do you guys tell them apart?” Luke questioned.

Garcia stared at him blankly before turning to look at you.

“You see what I have to deal with?”

You couldn’t help it, that made you laugh. You were still partially giggling as you tried to answer him.

“Alvez, they’re fraternal twins. Besides, one’s a boy and one’s a girl?”

“Yes, I realize that, but right now they both have short, fuzzy hair, wrinkles and squirm. They look exactly alike. If it wasn’t for the pink and blue clothes, I wouldn’t know who was who without taking their diaper off.”

“Don’t worry,” Garcia assured you, “When I babysit them, he’s not touching them.”

“I’m just saying! Spence, help me out here,” Luke pleaded.

“You’re on your own for this one,” he smirked, “Besides, when they’re your own kids, you can tell who is who. There’s actually plenty of accounts of mothers who have said they can tell their identical twins apart from as early as the day they were born.”

“So in hindsight, let’s just hope you don’t have twins when you two have kids,” you said.

“Oh no. No kids for a long time. Between Henry, Michael, Roxy and now these two, we’ve got our hands full,” replied Luke.

“I’m definitely going to be getting my allotted baby snuggles and cuteness in for a while with these two,” Penelope grinned, playing with Abbie’s hand.

“Oh my goodness,” she suddenly looked up at you, “We’ve been talking all about the babies and I haven’t even had the chance to ask about you. How are you, mommy?”

You grinned, appreciating Garcia’s concern for you.

“Sleep deprived. Ice packs are a wonder right now.”

Garcia nodded, “That was JJ’s recommendation, I remember that.”

“All in all, pretty good. They’re quite laid back. But man, when they’re hungry they’re little terrors. They want food now.”

“Sounds like dad,” Luke quipped with a smirk.

“What? I’m not like that!” Spencer protested.

“Spence, you get hangry. You kinda are,” Garcia nodded.

Just then, Abbie started to wail.

“Well that’s my cue,” you said, moving to stand up.

“No ma’am. You rest,” Garcia ordered, “It feels like she needs a diaper change. I got this. You. Stay.”

She pointed her finger at you like an owner teaching its dog to stay.

“Yes ma’am,” you grinned, sitting back.

“We’ll be back,” she said, Abbie’s cries fading as they disappeared down the hallway.

“Would you like a beer, Luke?” you asked.

“I thought you didn’t drink?” Luke glanced at Spencer questionly.

“I don’t,” he confirmed, “Doesn’t mean I don’t keep stock for our guests though.”

You were aiming to get one from the kitchen, when this time it was Spencer who ordered you to sit.

“Okay, okay I get the picture guys,” you shook your head, amused, but grateful.

“You need to rest anyway. Your body is healing, Y/N, let it.”

Spencer kissed your cheek.

“Just relax. You’ve got help right now anyway, take advantage of it.”

You nodded and settled back as you watched the two men—plus Alex, still in Luke’s arms—disappear into the kitchen.

•

Spencer opened the fridge, grabbing a bottle of beer for Luke. It was one of his buddy’s favorite brands. 

Luke noticed and grinned big.

“You know me well.”

Before he could hand the drink to Luke, Alex started fussing.

“Oh. Nope, nope. Once they start crying, they go straight back to mommy or daddy,” Luke said, passing him back to Spencer.

Spencer smiled, settling Alex against his chest. Alex’s tiny fist laid against Spencer’s throat, his head comfortably nestled on his chest. With the other hand, he handed the beer to Luke. He took it with an appreciative thank you.

“So, wow. You’re a dad now. I mean I knew you’d make a great dad, it’s just weird, now that they’re here.”

“I know,” Spencer smiled, looking down at Alex, almost asleep on his chest.

He ran a hand over the baby soft tufts of deep brown hair that he’d been born with and kissed him on the head. There really was nothing like the feel and the smell of a new baby. It was a slight mixture of formula—or breast milk, depending on the situation—baby soap and baby powder wrapped up with the smell of sunshine. Spencer realized how crazy that sounded, but maybe it was just the overwhelming happiness and probably exhaustion that made him think of that.

His newborn twins had the softest skin too. Their tiny hands and feet still slightly wrinkled and pink from birth, something that was slowly turning normal the more they were out of the womb and in the world. Their cheeks were so smooth and it always amazed him when he ran a finger over them, stroking them as they slept or as they looked up at him. Their heads, more normal shaped than coned now, due to birth, had the downy soft hair that only adults could wish for. It was the perfect place to kiss them repeatedly, whether it was in comforting them or just to express his love for them.

“It’s so different when they’re still hiding behind layers of skin, fat and muscle. Still hiding from the world, even if their presence is known,” Spencer chuckled.

“Are you doing good then? Adapting okay?” Luke asked.

“It’s a change, especially with two, but I love it. I’m telling you, you and Garcia should at least have one someday. It’s such an amazing feeling watching your child, or in my case, kids,” he paused, grinning, “Come into the world. Then having them peer up at you when they finally open their eyes long enough to check things out. Their little hands wrapped around your finger so tightly as if they’re afraid you’re gonna go somewhere.”

Luke smiled.

“Yeah, you’ve definitely embraced the whole thing, I can tell.”

“Watch out, by next week I’ll be in a daddy and me group,” Spencer joked.

“Touché,” Luke raised his bottle, taking another swing of beer, “You know the team is gonna be all over these little ones when they meet them.”

“Well, at least there’s a lot of helping hands,” Spencer said, moving towards the swinging door.

“You got that right.”

Spencer and Luke left the kitchen, heading towards the living room when they were stopped by Garcia.

She shushed them.

“If you dare wake her up, I’ll come after both of you,” she threatened.

Spencer peered over Penelope’s head and saw Y/N sprawled across the arm chair, head in her hand, fast asleep.

“Here, let me take him too. I was going to take them to the nursery and hang out with them there so she can sleep. Come on, Luke,” Garcia motioned first him to follow her.

“I’ll be right there,” Spencer said.

He waited until they walked off before tiptoeing into the living room, grabbing a blanket. He gently laid it over her before kissing her head.

“Sweet dreams, baby girl.”

He silently left his wife sleeping and headed to the nursery, back to his friends and his two little bundles of joy. 

It was then he couldn’t help but think just how lucky he really was.

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[c-rose2081]

Dragon Colds & Rose Petals

Love Like Dragons AU

Bevie | Huma (implied) | Gildry | Mal & Audrey BROTP

—

Evie Grimhilde was a happily married woman. She had been for nearly three months now, and it was marital bliss. But there was a small part of her that was still a lonely, single, Dragon mom. So when Ben walked in on her that day, struggling to keep the human thermometer in Mal’s mouth to take her temperature, he laughed.

Mal, her best friend and a five year old Isle Dragon, had been sick for the past two days. Evie wasn’t sure what brought it on, as Audrey - Ben’s Aurorian Dragon - didn’t seem to have anything. And of course that small, single, lonely dragon mom part of her reared it’s head. What if Mal was terminally ill? What if she died? What if Evie would wake up tomorrow and her best friend wouldn’t be there? It nearly sent her into hysterics. Coddling the cranky, tired spike menace was the only thing that could calm her.

Naturally, Mal hated it.

Ben, thankfully, was a level headed man, and he rescued poor Mal and quarantined her in another room. He then held Evie to his chest and quietly stroked her hair as she rattled off every possible dragon disease she found on the internet and their outcomes.

“I have a friend who’s a vet,” Ben told Evie when she had finally calmed down, holding her close as to keep her from spending the night with Mal - who was no doubt sleeping, “she comes and looks at Audrey every few months, I’m sure she’d be happy to give Mal a checkup,”

And so Evie agreed that a vet visit would be the best option, rather then trusting DragonMD. Of course, she wasn’t aware that Ben and this ‘vet’ were very close friends. Let alone that this ‘vet’ was a woman who he was apparently quite comfortable with. Uma was a pretty, muscly, dark skinned sort with long turquoise and white braids. She stood at least a head above Evie in height, and when she pictured a ‘vet’, Uma was quite far from what she was imagining.

“Uma!” Ben greeted with an open hug, “thanks for coming,”

“You’re lucky, Ben. I just got back into town,”

“Uma works in freight,” Ben explained to Evie, resting an arm around her waist as Uma pulled a rather large black duffle in behind her, “she travels a lot; it’s why you didn’t meet her at the wedding. Uma, this is my wife, Evie. I wrote to you about her,”

“Yeah; all good things thankfully. It’s nice to finally meet you,” Uma replied, Evie smiling in kind and taking her hand in a firm shake. The grip was incredibly strong, and the skin on her palms was callous, “Ben, I hope you don’t mind. But I brought Gil.”

“Who’s Gil?” Evie asked, brows popping up. She expected Gil to be a person, or perhaps a child. Having a large, horn-backed dragon wander in with a rose in his beak wasn’t what Evie expected at all. Like the day she had met Audrey, the girl yearned for her sketchbook, “oh my goodness,”

“I told you. Uma is great with dragons,” Ben laughed, “this is Gil,”

“My boyfriends dragon, actually,” Uma told Evie.

“I’ve never seen anything like him!” Evie exclaimed, jostling as ‘Gil’ nearly knocked her over when he came to bump the side of her leg with a wing.

“Sorry,” the sailor groaned, rolling her eyes as she grabbed the dragon by the back of the neck, “he’s really good with people, and gentle as they come. But he’s just so big,”

“What kind of dragon is he?” Evie asked, kneeling down to have a better look. Gil, unlike both Mal and Audrey, was built like a narrow turtle, and was armored like a tank. He had short legs with four toes each, and an articulated shell covering his nape, all the way down to his back legs. His tail was stubby, but sprouted four impressively long spikes, and his face was wide eye’d with a beak rather then a toothy maw. Gil’s wings, Evie noticed, folded inelegantly against the outside of his shell, a bit like messy accordion blinds. No doubt they were quite large in order to help such a bulky creature fly.

“Gil is a Coastal Dragon. They usually live out by the sea, in the sand,” Uma explained, heaving the creature to the side where he flopped to his belly unbothered, still holding the bright red flower in his beak, “Harry picked him up when he was traveling, and he’s been with us ever since. He’s a lazy beast,” Uma complained, tapping the creature’s shell with a boot, “doesn’t do jack-shit other then lay around all day,”

Evie couldn’t help but laugh at this, only to jump as Gil made a noise. It sounded almost like a tired, sad foghorn.

“He’s been crying like that all morning,”Uma drawled, “the minute he figured out I was coming here, he wouldn’t let me leave without him,”

“Why would he do that?” Evie asked, frowning slightly in confusion as Ben rubbed the back of his head and Uma glanced at him expectantly.

“Princess! Your boyfriend’s here!” Ben called out, his voice echoing through the tall vaulted ceiling of their house. Puzzled for a moment, Evie turned as Audrey’s birdsong reached her ear. It only took a second before the pink bullet - wings fully outstretched - glided into the room. Gil, who had previously been laying down, leapt up faster then Evie ever could’ve imagined for such a stocky beast. His accordion wings unfurled like a whip, and Uma tugged Evie backwards a step as he gave one powerful flap and was in the air.

“Sweet Merlin, he’s massive,” Evie breathed in wonder, watching as Gil captured Audrey in a mid-flight embrace, enfolding her between his arms and resting his large head on her crest, “are they...?”

“Together,” Ben confirmed with a nod, “it was a surprise to us to, once we figured it out,”

“Gil is romantic, the big lug,” Uma chuckled, placing her hands on her hips as Gil transferred the rose he’d been keeping to Audrey, who somehow managed to tuck it behind her ear flap in a very teenage-girl like manner, “he gets it from Harry, I think. Sorry about your rose bushes, Ben.” Uma admitted, grimacing slightly as Ben merely chuckled.

“It’s alright. The gardeners will take care of it,”

“Right then. So, you told me you had a sick dragon here?” Uma asked Evie, “and it’s clearly not Audrey,”

“My dragon, Mal, has been sick for a few days now,” Evie told the woman, returning to fretting over her best friend, “She’s really dull and tired, and even more cranky then usual,”

“Hm, that could be a number of things,” Uma pondered, heaving her black duffle up over one shoulder, “what breed is she?”

“An Isle Dragon. At least I think she is. I got the egg as a gift. Mom didn’t ever tell me where she got it from,”

“Well, let’s get to it then. I want out of here before Gil starts mimicking Audrey’s love songs,”

And so the trio left the foyer, heading upstairs into the large upper floor. Ben had made Mal her own special quarantine room. Audrey’s claw marks were all over the door’s painted exterior, showing where she’d been trying to get in earlier.

“I’ll have to talk to that girl,” Ben mumbled at reaching the door, ruffling his hair and groaning at the idea of having to fix the damage. Audrey wasn’t normally destructive, and Evie thought maybe she was coming down with something like Mal had. But Uma merely shook her head.

“It’s only natural,” she explained, opening the door and flicking on the light, “Audrey and Mal have probably already formed a family unit. It’s normal for one dragon to comfort another in times of pain or illness,”

“But Mal and Audrey quarrel constantly,” Evie complained, “they never get along,”

“Maybe so, but Dragons aren’t solitary in the wild. They build family units to survive. You did the right thing though, keeping Audrey out of here,” Uma admitted, kicking the door closed with a boot. Mal was laying in her basket, snoozing the day away unbothered by their entrance.

“I’m going to go call mom and dad,” Ben said to Evie quietly, “see if I can’t get someone down here to fix the door, and the bushes. You’ll be ok here with Uma?”

“Yeah. Love you,”

Sharing a quick kiss on the lips , Ben gave a half wave to Uma before skirting back out the door and vanishing.

“You two are good together,” Uma commented a little while later, removing a stethoscope from her bag and slinging it around her neck, “I was surprised when Ben said he was getting married,”

“Oh?”

Sinking down onto a low stool, Evie watched as Uma very carefully checked Mal’s heartbeat, “why do you say that?”

Uma switched the stethoscope for an ear tool as she began checking Mal’s ear holes.

“I dunno; it just never seemed like he could find the right fit. Hell, even we tried it out once,” Uma admitted with a laugh. This caused Evie’s stomach to drop like a rock. She didn’t mean for the green eye’d monster to make an appearance, but she couldn’t help it. After all, it had only been a few months, and she was nothing like Uma.

“Uh...why didn’t it work out? You and Ben?”

“Ah, we aren’t anything alike, really,” Uma said, satisfied with Mal’s ears and digging around in her bag for a moment, “I was always gone, you know? And of course Ben has his parents business to worry about. He needed someone who could keep up with him. Ah,” finding what she was looking for, Uma removed a small ‘T’ shaped device from the bag, “let’s just take the temperature,”

With a beep, Uma looked at the little digital screen and nodded. She put her tools away, removing a stuffed toy from inside her bag and tucking it under one of Mal’s fat arms.

“You, Evie, seem like just the right type for him,” Uma insisted with a sharp nod, rising from her place on the floor and wiping her hands on her jeans, “as for Mal, I suspect a cold is to blame for this. Where does she normally sleep?”

“Uh, up in the rafters above my bed. She used to sleep next to me, but I share a bed with Ben now. Audrey usually sleeps on her perch,”

“Ah. I suggest maybe installing a heat lamp up there, or building a nesting box. I think she’s getting to cold at night. Dragons are sensitive to that sort of thing,”

“I didn’t know,” Evie admitted, “thank you, Uma,”

“Anytime. I love Dragons, and Ben is still a great friend so I’ll help him out when I can. Anyway, Mal should be back to her normal self in a few days. Keep her warm and eating normally, and if anything changes, call me again and I’ll come back,”

“Can Audrey be allowed back in?” Evie asked, holding the door open for Uma to leave as the girl shook her head.

“No. Keep Mal in here and resting until she’s closer to her normal self. No need to risk Audrey catching whatever she has.”

“Ok. I can do that,” Evie nodded, following Uma back downstairs. Ben was standing in the yard out front, looking over the trampled rose bushes. Audrey and Gil were cuddled up within the broken branches, warm and content in a nest of prickly thorns and velvet petals.

“I think Gil might be more romantic then you, Ben,” Evie joked, looping her arm through her husbands as the man made an offended noise in his throat.

“So you want rose petals?” He asked, “I can do that,”

“Mhm, whatever you say,”

“So how’s Mal? Everything ok?”

“She’ll be just fine,” Uma restated, “Evie knows what needs to be done. As for you, Harry wants to get together at some point for a guys night.”

“Will do. I’ll call him and Jay when I have time,”

Bobbing her head in understanding, Uma gently prodded Gil with a toe through the nest, causing him to lift his head groggily.

“Alright, big fella. Kiss your girlfriend goodbye, we need to get going,”

Gil gave a sad little moan and Uma shook her head, “no complaints. I’m the captain here. Now kisses, and let’s go,”

Evie couldn’t help her little ‘awe’ as Gil reluctantly gave Audrey a little cheek nudge before standing and romping out of the bushes unhappily. Ben picked his own dragon up from the thorns, cradling her like a baby as she wailed dramatically.

“Do you cry like that every time I leave the house?” Evie asked as Uma hauled Gil into her Jeep, leaving poor Audrey heartbroken and hanging limply off Ben’s arm.

“No,” Ben insisted, using his free hand to grasp Evie’s as he gave it a squeeze, “I’m even worse.”

—

A/N: So...this is officially an AU! I’m calling it the Love Like Dragons AU. Basically Auradon is just a normal city (no prince and princesses, no pirates, ect.). Ben is the heir to his wealthy parents business rather then being a King. And the only ‘magical’ thing in Auradon is the dragons part of it. If you have any questions or suggestions for the AU, ping me :3

[coolchevistianofficialsite]

So, given you're a huge BCG fan, which episode would you say each of the main seven (Cricket, Tilly, Bill, Gramma, Remy, Nancy, and Gloria) players shined the best individually and why?

Cricket: Chipocalypse Now/Phoenix Rises/Quiet Please

Great example that Cricket cares for other members of his family and worries about his neighboors despite him driving them crazy and that his family takes care of his potential ADH that was showcased on the episode.

Tilly Green: Dolled Up/Broken Karaoke/Cousin Jilly

Showcases that Tilly is a person who prefers to be herself and dosn't care what other people think and that she worries for her brother and loves being herself basically she likes to do "it's own thing" ;)

Bill Green: Night Bill/Level Up/Fill Bill

Showcases that Bill is a sweetheart of dad that cares for his family but he still has to learn so much beacuse losing the farm and adjusting to Big City is still new to him

Alice Green: Gramma's License/Family Legacy/Suite Retreat/Green Acres/Garage TalesShowcases that Alice has a softer side and she is scared of getting old and showcases that she loves her family beacuse this woman has suffered the loss of her beloved country,farm and husband and despite coming off as cranky, she loves that her family is living with her on potentially her final years.

Nancy Green: Uncaged/Axin' Saxon/Shark Objects/Tilly Style

Showcases that she is still a rebel on cause but still wants to be a better mother figure, she showcases how adjusting to city life post-prision is hard and still supporting her kids with a good relationship with her ex-husband.

Remy Remington: Remy Rescue/Cyberbullies/Dinner Party/Bad Influencer/Time Crisis/ Ding Dongers

I like that he wasn't written as sterotypical rich kid and this episodes showcase that he needs to be more open to new places and that people shouldn't avantage of him beacuse he has money and that the future will never come, the present is what matters.

Gloria Sato: Paint Misbehavin/Coffee Quest/Elevator Action/Rent Control/Gloria's Cafe

Showcases the message of the show that found family can be found anywhere and your dreams can come true with support of the people who love you and support your goals beacuse getting those dreams are hard to get.

[psychedellic-phase]

Fifteen (Part 12)

A/N: I altered the timeline & updated the last chapter w the correct weeks!! sorry for any confusion that causes. I need to be accurate or it’d bother me lol 

ALSO: end the stigma surrounding miscarriage/infertility. your feelings and experiences are valid. 

Tw: miscarriage, cursing, slight spoilers for the episode “200”

word count: 4.4 k

masterlist

series masterlist

“It was a Thursday, no I guess technically it was a Friday since it was 3 am. You woke me up, poking my shoulder gently until I stirred. 

“This is going to sound weird but did you...?”

I was groggy and sore and cranky. It was 3 am, and you woke me up. Of course I was annoyed. My back was killing me, “Spence, what?”

“Did you pee yourself?” You whispered, and I laughed. 

“What? No?” 

That’s when I shifted to roll over and face you. That’s when I felt it. It was like a freight train hitting me. I was dizzy and nauseous and could suddenly feel every part of my body aching. 

“Then, t-then what’s this?” 

You threw the covers off of us. I don’t think I’ve ever heard you so scared. 

I just stared at it. Our gray sheets darkened. I had no emotions. No instincts. No movement. You’d think I’d have an intuition of what I needed to do. My maternal instinct would’ve kicked in, or I guess it wouldn’t have because I was no longer a mother. 

I don’t know how I didn’t wake up earlier. I keep wracking my brain for a reason why I didn’t wake up. Why did you have to wake me up? Why didn’t I just know? I should’ve just known. I should’ve had a feeling, but I didn’t have any feelings. Because that’s what shock is. It’s nothing. It’s staring at everything and feeling absolute nothingness. 

It’s weird to think that that night we went to bed, laughing and chatting and snuggling close to each other. It’s weird to think that we had no idea what was coming. We were living in ignorant bliss. It’s sad that that was our last night we spent together as a whole family unit. I wish I knew about lasts before they happened, that way I could savor the moment. Soak it all up. Bask in the warmth of you. 

We fell asleep as we usually do did, you spooning me from behind, one hand on my belly the other on my back. You whispering that you loved me, you hoped I slept well; me telling you that the papaya sized thing in my uterus would make sure that I did not sleep well. You’d laugh, your breath would tickle my neck, then I’d laugh, and we’d finally calm down and fall asleep in each other’s arms. 

That’s the last time we fell asleep like that. I wish I knew. I would have appreciated the little things. I would’ve appreciated the way you rubbed little shapes on my skin, the way you dealt with me needing no comforter because I was always hot and sweaty, even though you run cold. I wish I could go back and appreciate every one of our lasts, just so I could hold onto those memories a little while longer. But I guess I’ve held onto them long enough if I’m giving them all back to you. 

Speaking of, what is your item for this letter? Go ahead. Go look. It isn’t going to be what you expect.”

He was much calmer than he was before. The numbness had returned. He felt kind of okay actually. He felt like that was the last bit of emotion he had left. But then again, he felt that way in letter four. He felt that way in letter seven. He knew it wouldn’t last, but he was determined to savor it, grind through the last few letters while he was still numb, then hopefully decide what to do while his head was clear. 

He reached in, surprised at what you had chosen. 

“Yes, this is definitely not what you expected. I’m sure you expected another baby memento, or maybe an ultrasound picture. But like I said, all the baby stuff is gone. And I’m keeping the ultrasounds. I’ll mail you copies, I promise. And unlike you, I don’t make a habit of breaking my promises. 

Now to anyone who doesn’t know PG, this little stuffed unicorn looks like it was for the baby. But when you know her as well as we do, you know it was for me. Penelope decorates her desk with trinkets and light-up frogs and flower pens because they help her see the bad. They make it easier. By giving me this, she was giving me something to protect me from the horror I would have to face. And for a little while, it actually worked. I hope it’ll do the same for you.”

He laughed, an honest, genuine, laugh. He held the stuffed thing in his hands, leaning back onto the bed. It was white with rainbow hair and a glittery purple horn. He remembered when Penelope brought it in the room, delicately placing it on your bedside table.

“She’ll need this, and so will you,” She said. Spencer just nodded and watched her disappear. 

“I will spare you the grisly details, Spence; you were there. I will just mention the main ideas. 

As I sat there, staring at the mess that had formed in front of me, you got up. You were visibly shaking as you turned on the lights and called an ambulance. Your face was gray. I’ve never seen it that color. I couldn’t focus on anything except you and the pain. God, the pain. It radiated from my abdomen, up into my heart and festered there. It was a different kind of pain, unlike any I’d ever experienced before. Then came the adrenaline, pumping through my body at an insane rate. Then I felt foggy, like I was watching what was happening to me on a tv screen. It was the closest thing to an out-of-body experience I’ve ever had.  

You knelt down next to me, holding my torso. We didn’t speak. We didn’t cry. We were both in shock.

I don’t even know what you said to the people on the phone. I assume you told them what you had already diagnosed. You told them the truth: I was miscarrying. 

It still hurts to say. I still have a hard time saying the word out loud. “Pregnancy loss,” “Spontaneous abortion,” “Miscarriage,” none of the words feel right. None of them feel like they accurately describe what happened to us that night. 

They put me on a stretcher, and that’s when it became real. I was crying, holding your hand so tight I thought I’d cut off blood supply. My other hand was on my torso, and I was begging whatever Gods are above to feel a kick. Just one little kick, or shift, or movement.

I didn’t. 

You stayed strong for me. You always were so good under pressure. You told the EMT every detail of my health history, while I was a blubbering mess. You called Hotch. You called Emily. You called my dad. You kept it together. You did everything right. God, Spencer, even from that very first day when I paid you to do my paperwork, you always did everything right. You’re the good one. You put nothing but good karma out into the world, so why do you keep getting bad karma back?

It’s ridiculous really, because we did do everything right. I took my prenatals and only drank water and green smoothies and I ate sweet potatoes and legumes and kale chips. I resisted the urge to eat nothing but Baja Blasts and Big Macs. I’m honestly angry. I’m angry because you and I, two good people, don’t get to have a baby, but some of these unsubs we encountered do? What kind of logic is that? What kind of world allows that to happen? What kind of God? A really shitty one, that’s who. 

Eventually they literally peeled you off of me in the ER. They had to make sure I wasn’t getting an infection, and that I had—God I can’t say it. They had to see if they needed to help me through it, if you know what I mean. They did. I had to get a d&c. 

I spent most of the time sobbing at the nurses. They all just held my hands and smoothed my hair. I begged for you, but they said no. I argued with them. I said I needed you there next to me. I didn’t want them to hold my hands and smooth my hair, I wanted you. But they insisted that the room had to stay clean. Eventually I was all cried out and they put me under. 

When I woke up this unicorn was next to me, staring me in the face and letting me know our friends were there. They knew. They had my back. This stuffed thing would help me face the bad that was coming. It would protect me. 

It was about eight. You pulled your chair up next to me, your hand in mine, head on my bed. I felt like shit. That’s the only way to put it. Anesthesia makes me nauseous as is, couple that with the night I had? I felt awful, and I felt it everywhere. 

When I woke up, you stirred too. Your eye bags were deep and dark, you still had on pajamas with some unknown fluids on them, and your hair was a wreck. 

I ran my hands through it, a force of habit, “Hi.”

“Hey,” you croaked. 

Our eyes met, and we both just fell apart. Tears spilled over so easily. We were two broken hearts in one hospital room. 

You crawled into the bed with me, making sure to be gentle and not hurt me, “Is this real life?” 

“Yeah, Love. I’m afraid it is,” you whispered into my hair. 

“I-It doesn’t feel like real life.”

You sighed, and shifted so we were both sitting upright, your arm around my shoulder, “I know. I wish it wasn’t.”

“W-What happened? What did I do? I th-thought I did everything right?”

You kissed my tears on my cheeks, “You did. You couldn’t have done anything to stop this. It was a chromosomal abnormality, trisomy sixteen.”

“What does that m-mean?”

“It means she had three copies of chromosome sixteen, which makes proteins in the body. She never would’ve—“

“Stop,” I said, not harshly or mean, just a sad moan, “I don’t want to know.” I took three shaky, deep breaths, trying to calm myself down, “I-I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t be, there’s nothing we could’ve done. We’ll get through this, together, I promise.”

“I promise,” I said, and you kissed my temple, arms wrapped around me tightly, as if you could physically hold me together as I fell apart. You held me like that for a while, before we both fell asleep again in that teeny tiny hospital bed.

The unicorn wasn’t the one who protected me that night, it was you. You protected me more than I ever gave you credit for. I wish I could’ve stayed strong for you, the way you stayed strong for me. Thank you for that, Spencer. I mean it.”

Spencer got up from bed and felt lightheaded. Realizing he hadn’t eaten yet, he grabbed a mess of junk from the fridge and sat on the kitchen floor up against the dishwasher. The metal of the appliance was cold against his back, the ground below him was hard. It just felt right. 

He did keep his calm the whole time. He never cracked, not until the end when he cried with you. He spoke calmly and quietly when the team showed up. Garcia cried more than he did. Emily said she was on the next flight, ready and willing. Your dad didn’t say more than a few awkward and sad words. Morgan looked terrified. Hotch had his eyebrows knit together, as if with enough thinking, he could make the situation away. JJ stood silently, knowing the feeling, but not mentioning it. The only time he wavered was when Alex held him; the tears reached the surface but never spilled over. Everyone just circled around him, trying to protect him from the scariness that he’d face outside of their bubble. 

The nurse came up to him, telling him you were out and okay. It was a chromosomal abnormality, nothing could’ve prevented it. With some rest, you’d be okay physically, but mentally it would be a long road, for both of you. He nodded. The world felt like it was spinning. He couldn’t think straight. The walls seemed to move in around him, even as he stood still. 

“Reid, it’s mandatory. Four weeks. Minimum,” Hotch said, Spencer not hearing a word of it. 

“O-Okay. Fine, whatever. I just, I need to see her.” 

Derek reached out to stop him, “You know she isn’t going to be the same, kid.”

Spencer shook him off, “I know.”

But he didn’t know to what extent. He didn’t know that you’d still look pregnant, because your belly doesn’t automatically deflate. He didn’t know that your grieving process would be different from the way it was after Emily’s fake death. How naive of him to not realize that he’d grieve differently this time too. He thought he’d want to cry and talk and eat blueberry pancakes, just like last time. He didn’t realize that when a piece of you just suddenly stops being a piece of you, it’s jarring. It's the five stages of grief all at once and in the wrong order. It’s crying at a Pampers commercial and being angry when you see new moms. It’s people giving you soft looks of pity everyday. It’s lonely. It’s sad. It’s the worst heartbreak one can imagine. In short—it really fucking sucks. 

Spencer had no idea just how much it really fucking sucked. 

He saw you there, your skin drained of its warm color and tired, and stopped in his tracks. What would he say? What would he do? How would he approach you? How would he tell you that half of his heart just left his body? 

Rossi was the one who saw him stop at the threshold of your door. He saw Spencer pace back and forth, still in bloody pajamas. He saw Spencer stare at you, hands balled into fists like he was ready to fight the powers that be. 

He came up behind him, placing a kind hand on his shoulder, “Spencer, listen to me.”

Spencer didn’t react, he just kept staring at you, “I had a son, with Caroline. He died the same day he was born. I know what this feels like, Kid. I do. Trust me, it’ll get easier. I promise, but only if the two of you lean on each other.”

Spencer nodded dumbly, still not really processing anything around him, but with a nudge from Rossi he entered your room. He found his way to the bedside chair. 

“Hey, Y/N, I know you can’t hear me. The anesthesia hasn’t worn off yet. I just want to—no need to tell you that I love you. I’m not mad at you. I’m heartbroken, but here for you. I’m not going anywhere.”

“Remember how fast that narrative changed, Spence? 

We got home from the hospital that night and I grabbed a tub of ice cream. I figured losing the baby counted as ‘one of those days’. I thought we would eat in silence and it would make it all okay, like every other day. 

When I pulled it out, you scratched your head, “Not tonight. I’m tired.”

I nodded, feeling heavy and sore and weak, “Okay, see you upstairs?” 

You nodded again, and I put the tub away. I figured you were going to talk to the moon for a while, and I was going to let you. 

I fell asleep almost immediately, you never joining me. 

I got up and you were on the couch, making some lame excuse of how you were reading and must have fallen asleep there by accident.

“You okay today?” I asked you. 

You shrugged, “We won’t be okay for a lot of days.”

I knew you were right. It was a stupid question to even ask. I nodded. 

“How do you feel?”

“Sore, weak, empty. Like I need to sleep more.”

You tucked my hair behind my ear, and kissed my cheek. 

“I love you,” I said, and you responded with, “Love you too, I need to shower.”

Now there is a distinct difference between ‘love you’ and ‘I love you.’ Losing the ‘I’ loses the intimacy. It removes yourself from the statement. You removed yourself from that statement, and from me. 

That first day we talked a little. We mostly cried and you watched me sleep. But then suddenly it was like you didn’t want to talk about it. You didn’t want to share a bed. You didn’t even want to look at me. You didn’t want to be in that place. I don’t blame you, Spencer, I don’t. I didn’t want to be there either.

I understand why you blamed me. We needed to blame someone, because no way could life be that cruel to a person. I blamed myself for the loss for a while too. No matter how many times people said “it’s not your fault” it still felt like my fault. I still feel like it’s my fault, like maybe I could’ve done something to prevent this. It doesn’t matter how many support groups or therapists tell me I can’t blame anyone. How can I believe that when the person who means the most to me in this world feels like it I’m the only person to blame?”

He sighed. He never wanted to blame you, but some part of him did anyway. It was easier that way. If he blamed you, he wouldn’t have to blame himself like he always did. But, sometimes there is no one to blame but life itself. 

“Emily showed up that next day. She came in, in all her black bangs glory and held me. She had ice cream with me. She let me cry on her shoulders until I couldn’t anymore. She watched cheesy tv with me and distracted me with stories of her varied lovers in London. She supported me the way only a best friend could, the way I wish you did. Then she had to leave; London calls. And Derek took her place. He would come by when he could, usually with takeout that I couldn’t stomach. If he couldn’t come by, he’d always text or call. He always checked in, which I appreciated, but every moment with them was a moment spent wishing I was with you. 

You. For the first week or so, I saw you everyday. We even went to the beach, but when we came home? I tried to talk but we usually didn’t. More accurately, I spoke, and you stared at me. Then you started coming less and less and returning fewer and fewer of my calls. At the end, I think I saw you maybe once every other day, just for you to come and grab clean clothes or paperwork. God, everyone did your job except for you because you were too busy doing your real job. The job Hotch told you to take a few weeks off from. The job that I actually did take a few weeks off from, because my body was in disrepair. 

It’s not fair to sit here and tell you that you didn’t cater to my every grieving need correctly. It’s not fair for me to tell you how to grieve either. I respect what you did, Spence. I respect that you poured yourself into work. I know it isn’t fair that I wish you spent half that energy on us. But you know what actually isn’t fair? The way I’d tell people “we lost her,” but you’d say “Y/N lost her.” You know what wasn’t fair? The fact that you ran away from me and hid away in your apartment, doing God knows what with God knows who, after we promised to lean on each other, to heal together. You refused to do it. I wanted to. I tried to. I reached out. I called. I texted. 

But, I’m getting ahead of myself now. You still have three letters to go.”

Spencer glanced over at the box. It was nearly empty, just three stray items and three stray envelopes staring at him. He remembered the minute he set foot in that place, he felt the same way he did before he entered your hospital room. Frozen. Fear. Trepidation. 

Everything looked foreign. The walls that were once a saturated blue color looked grayer. The mug on the counter didn’t look like it was his. The pictures on the walls were of foreign people from a foreign land. The bed didn’t look like his bed. He felt like he was living on a movie set, where everything was a prop and everyone was a fake. 

He tried to stay. He went into that first night with the intentions of laying next to you in bed, watching tv, rubbing your back, and giving you water to make up for the amount of tears you shed. He really, honestly, tried, but the first thing he saw when he opened the front door was that picture of the two of you from Rossi’s house, holding up the onesie. Then he made his way into the kitchen, where the ultrasounds were pinned to the fridge with smiley face magnets. Then he went upstairs and passed the nursery. 

It had barely been started; all you’d done was paint it a soft, sage green. 

“This color is called ‘Soothing Sage’,” You said, handing Spencer a roller, “I sure hope this soothes her, because if she’s as active outside as she is inside, we have a problem.” 

“It will soothe her. That’s why I love green,” He said, grabbing the roller and starting to paint, as you sat on the floor trying to untangle Garcia’s homemade jungle animal mobile. 

“I thought you liked purple.”

He smiled, “ I do, but green brings balance and harmony. From a color psychology perspective, it is the great balancer of the heart and the emotions, creating equilibrium in the body. And from a color symbolism perspective, green is the color of growth, spring, renewal and rebirth.”

You laughed, “My favorite color is teal. What’s the color psychology for that?”

“Teal is a blend of blue and green, so naturally it combines both blue's tranquility and stability with green's balance and harmony.”

“I like it, I like it, how about orange? What does that mean?”

“Orange? Well, it’s bright and brings feelings of excitement, enthusiasm, and warmth—“ He cut himself off, turning from his almost done wall to find you eating more chips, “Stop distracting me!”

You put your hands up in surrender, “You’re too easy to distract Reid.”

He smiled, paint already all over him, as you spent the rest of the afternoon talking about what rocker you should buy and where the other painting Garcia made should hang. 

When he passed the room, the walls a pretty green, mobile in the corner over a few stray Ikea boxes, he couldn’t do it anymore. He couldn’t act like everything in that place didn’t make him want to scream into an abyss. He couldn’t play the dutiful boyfriend. He couldn’t walk around and not feel haunted. He was being haunted, not by the past, but by a future that should’ve been. 

He tried to explain it to you, but you two were on different pages. Hell, you were reading two different books that were in completely different languages. Communicating became impossible, and if he’s being honest with himself, he was kind of happy that it did. It made it easier in the moment, but worse in the long run. 

“I miss us. I miss you. I miss her. I know we never met her but I could feel her. She was strong, definitely a soccer player. Maybe she would’ve had our recessive athletic genes. She was part of me, and I loved her from the first time I threw up. I could tell she loved you. She moved whenever you spoke to me. She loved to rustle and shift when you laid on my lap and whispered to her. She was a daddy’s girl. That’s what you deserved. I’m sorry my body couldn’t handle it. I’m sorry that I couldn’t even do that right. I’m sorry couldn’t be what you wanted or what you needed, especially when you were all I ever wanted or needed. I don’t know how many more ways to show you that I’m sorry.

You left me the day we lost her Spence, I know you did. I lost you and her in one fell swoop. How do I cope with that?”

Spencer put the letter down, cradling the unicorn in his hands. He didn’t need you to apologize anymore. You’d done enough of that, so did he. He stopped being angry and bitter and spiteful the second you told him to go. You yelled at him to finish packing his bags and get out, since that’s clearly what he wanted.

That wasn’t what he wanted. He was just lost. He was confused. He felt like nothing had a purpose anymore. He understood what Gideon said in the letter he left him all those years ago. He questioned everything he thought he ever knew. He wanted to view it as a lesson, something he could learn from, but the hole in his heart wouldn’t let him.

He had every intention of coming back to you when he was ready, but when he finally was, you shut the door. He lost himself the moment he lost her, and that made him lose you too. How’s he supposed to cope with that?

Part 13!

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