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thatfrailsoul · 2 months

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– Parts of me that I seek in you

tarot pick a pile reading ( → 1, 2, 3 )

When we strive to connect, to know someone... There are many different reasons for which our heart calls more for one person than the other. The appearance, the ways, their mind or heart, their actions or deepest goals and desires... No matter what it is, there is always that something that makes them shine in the darkness that surrounds us. And, very often, that something is the same as the one that we lost, can't find in ourselves... So we desperately look for it in others. With such perseverance and obsessive need that, sometimes, we allow it to lead us to those that perhaps, at the end, we would've preferred to not meet.

So what is it? What you miss in yourself but so desperately need? Where or when did you lose it? And where and how can you finally find that missing piece?

Slow down for a moment. Breathe. Listen to your heart, to its rhythm. Allow it to speak to you. And choose the image that seems so familiar, so similar to what you feel. Remembering that, whatever the message might be, you are free to listen to it or to let go. Without the need to make it fit. Because your true answer will always find you, the moment you will be really ready and will have the need.

– Pile One,

the star, the ten of cups and the fool.

Your poor and innocent soul... Your tired heart, your consumed mind... The only thing you ever wanted, the one that you wanted back then, was simply to leave it all behind. All that pain, all that fear. All the reasons why you couldn't ever be enough or right for someone, for anyone, that for once you just desired to don't hear... You found the last bits of your strength, patience and courage, all that remained in your shattered heart. And you used them to try to heal. All those numerous wounds, so many that it just feels like a whole and single, draining, torturing, one.

But what did it give you, in exchange of this incredible resilience to try to heal? Only a little relief, a little distraction... That hid that hole that was becoming bigger and bigger, with each time that you worked on - or to be exact forced - the healing of your soul.

And this is the thing. This is what ruined it all, what made it so difficult and challenging. What influenced so many others areas of your life... One little but so important detail about who you are, the way you are. And how much you got used in this life to beat yourself up, blaming for every single disgrace that you experienced... How often you repeated it, demonstrated it to yourself with every step that was supposed to help you heal. You never were gentle, patient, understanding. You never gave yourself credit for how many right things and choices you made. Or how many others mistakes never were really yours, but of somebody else. You did none of this. But only focused on rushing, on becoming better, on healing faster, growing, so you could be sooner worthy and ready to show what a good person you are to this world. You were angry, frustrated, ashamed. You despised yourself for needing healing and learning in the first place. You regretted every single additional day that you needed to get it together. Only noticing how many flows you still have, how many wounds are still bleeding, how many triggers you still can't endure.

Your desire, your intention, was so good... So innocent, genuine and truly right. But so quickly and scarily naturally it became just another cage and punishment that you gave yourself. Changing the whole purpose, the whole meaning, of a journey that is so pure. That was never supposed to be so rushed, give you so quickly those results that now you are so angry to don't see manifesting in your world... And that you decided, unconsciously or perhaps not, to look for in others. The ones that seem so beautiful, so healthy and whole. The ones that seem to go through life so gracefully, no matter the obstacles or challenges on their path. The ones that seem to be able to influence you so positively, if only you stay close to them, showing you the right ways and directions. Supporting you, helping you in doing it correctly, like you seem incapable of doing on your own.

But, no matter how much we adore to think the opposite, we indeed are the only ones responsible for our journey. For our battles, our victories or our loss. No matter how supportive, how close others are, they still can't really help us. Not when we don't allow even our own self to do the needed work. You can't fight through it, not this journey. You can't do it with the only motivation and push being your own meanness, judgment and resentement for the things that you dared to do or not. You can't be there, behind your own back, looking closely at every your step and action, ready to attack if you don't do it right.

But you can allow yourself to take more time. To be slower. To make more mistakes. To feel once again that pain, if it's the one that still overwhelms your heart. You can remember. You can reflect. Learn something from it. Or maybe not. Because it is normal, it is right, to take time to heal, to go through it with all the needed ups and downs.

And you can still do it. You can continue this journey changing your pace and rhythm, or simply starting from scratch. You can and need to do it. Because no-one else can help and guide you, as you can do to your own self. By being gentle and understanding with your heart and mind, that indeed do their best to allow you to feel and experience this life.

P.s. If you would like to receive a more personal message and guidance about your situation - find out all about it here!♡

– Pile Two,

the magician, the fool and the page of swords

You have something so beautiful, so unique, within yourself. Such passion that, if not explored and shared, can consume you inevitably. Consume that power that you sometimes forget to have. So you always took care of it. You always nourished it. In the moments when it felt as natural as breathing, and even in those where it was too similar to a torture, that need to create and do something but without any idea on why, how to start or from where. And even if, thanks to you and your deepest love, this passion and calling did survive... It is starting to fade now. Submerged with all the questions and doubts about whether or not it is worth it, if you are good enough to do it at all, if it is really that important... All because for quite sometime you were the only admirer and supporter of your work.

You are wavering, your steps and actions as you create become more and more unstable, as every inspiration or idea seems not enough to be worthy of the success, even just appreciation that you want. But this something... Is so yours, so made perfectly just for you and to express your soul... That you can't really just leave it. You can't just stop doing it, even if it is becoming hard to be satisfied as you used to, because you so naturally always gravitate back to creating and allowing your mind and heart to speak up through every step of your work. So you keep going, with a non consistent rhythm, many set backs, infinite doubts... Doing it, because you feel this need and desire so much. But not really enjoying it anymore. Because in the eyes of others it never seems good enough, and therefore it doesn't feel enough for your own self. For the one that, in the first place, you were supposedly creating it for.

It is so natural and normal to have the desire to share, to welcome others in your universe in a sense, to show them who you are or how you see this world... But what starts so innocently and genuinely, a way to connect to others and don't feel so different or not understood, an alternative type of motivation and fuel for your creativity even... is so often soon to become exactly what kills it, overwhelming your every idea with the judgment of others, and their way of seeing the world.

It just shifted your perspective, about yourself and your work. It made you feel little, insignificant, too simple or too much, confronted to what others seem to consider deserving and worthy of their attention and love. It made you feel useless, because when your creation was ignored, you felt like what was really being rejected was your soul that spoke through your work.

And time after time, day after day, this calling became so faint, almost non existent. Not because it is really going away... But because you are just the one that tries so desperately to ignore it and to not hear it. Convinced that following it would be useless, without anyone appreciating and admiring what you do. Convinced that doing it for your own self and enjoyment is not really worth it, because it doesn't give you any income, any fame, any support and appreciation from others. Convinced that it is only and simply a waste of time.

But is it? Is it really completely useless if you are the only one to whom you dedicate the creations of your soul? Or does it give you a chance to feel and experience this world in your own way, processing those emotions and thoughts, reinventing them? Does it give you back the ability to breathe and feel at ease, once you allow everything that overwhelms you flow out through your work? Does it fill your time with excitement and enjoyment? Does it give you a safe place, that allows you to rest and hide from everything else? Does it make you feel proud of who you are and what you did, what you were able to create with your own mind and hands? Because even if it does only one of these things... Than it is worth it. Because this is what gives you the energy and fuel to live this life, to appreciate it, to go through it. Having something that always protects and expresses your soul.

You can't do only what assures you the interest or appreciation of others. You can't do it for so long as you are planning or trying to do. You can't do it without constantly feeling on autopilot, thrown from one work to another, trying to satisfy every one of them in hopes that in return they will support your work. It is not true to you. It is not what you want or need. It is not even something that you can do, the things that they want. It is only a play, of which you are trying to learn all the phrases and rhythm, but that you can keep up with only for so long.

This life is not unfair, wrong, useless, a constant and neverending annoying and painful cycle. But it is this way for you, who doesn't have anymore that tiny but vital component - the language of your soul. You are suppressing it, you are limiting it and judging. For what? For whom? For what reason? This is not something that needs to be enough or good for others. It is not something that needs to give you incredible success, wealth or recognition. It can, but before any of that it needs only to be something that you enjoy. Truly and simply.

You don't need to find new ideas, ways, hobbies, interests, sports, studies, paths to explore - you just need to comeback to what you already know that you love. And welcome it in your Iife, starting doing it again and more. Just for your own fun and enjoyment, that will overflow from your heart to every other aspect of your life. Connecting everything, and making it free from the torture of unsatisfaction and frustration that you endure.

P.s. If you would like to receive a more personal message and guidance about your situation - find out all about it here!♡

– Pile Three,

the devil, the justice and the star

Sometimes we cross paths with those that perhaps we weren't meant to be with, we weren't meant to create and have the same story as the one we desired and pictured so well. It happens. It hurts. Then, eventually, it goes away. But when it happens again and again, one person after another... One betrayal, lie or misunderstanding after the other... How can one not notice the one element that connects them all - themselves? How can one not think, even in the slightest, that perhaps it is not working out because of who and how they are?

So one dives into it, tries to remember every single moment, analyse their own ways, with the desperate need to find that wrong something and change it, making everything in themselves right again. With the need to demonstrate that it is something that can be changed and that it won't be this way forever. That they can and will be better, more worthy, more right, and for this reason chosen by someone. And perhaps they do find it, that something, they work on it day and night, fight their own demons and who they are, and come out of it brand new. They put themselves out there, open up to people and try genuinely to connect... And then it happens all over again. The same pain, confusion, uncertainty, doubts, betrayal or a broken heart. But they did the work right? They changed, or did they not? And there it goes the fear of not being worthy no matter what, of being destined to loneliness and hurt, or perhaps of not doing enough. And some collapse, they hide, and try with all their forces to make themselves enough, to not need anyone else in their life. While others... Others don't say it out loud. Don't think about it. Hide it deep down. And try to make things work no matter what it means to accept and endure, just to not have yet another person leaving them behind.

And you... You are doing it right now. With them, or with others in your life. Subtly, unconsciously, you force yourself to stay. No matter the words you hear, the actions you see, the promises that you know are already broken and mean nothing to the person by your side. You stay. Because walking away might mean that there never will be someone else, that you will be the only one you will have.

It is difficult and painful to think about being somehow different and wrong, never enough. It is even more difficult to try to work on it and change yourself. It is difficult to face not only the pain but also the loneliness. To feel that fear of living this way forever creeping on you with each day. So staying, trying to be more understanding, patient, docile, considerate, delicate, silent and comfortable for others... Seems indeed less difficult and scary, because in return they too will stay. Even when it is clear that you are torturing and consuming yourself. Even when you so clearly and surely know that the way you are treated is not okay at all. All for that acceptance, that tiny affection, even if not genuine. All for those things that you think you will never be able to find in yourself, and might not find once the people that are now in your life will not be here anymore. A void that, perhaps, won't ever be filled with another person, with another connection or love.

But by convincing yourself to adapt to others and what they look for or don't love... You did exactly that one thing that will not allow people who are genuinely interested in you to come closer. Not when that place in your life is already occupied by another someone. Not when you show so ardently and persistently that the way you are treated is what you want.

A right person - the one that is interested in you exactly the way you are, not less not more - even when so close to you to see you... Will never be able to do something, to help you, to take you out of this play pretend and torture... Because no one can do what should start from you, what you should be ready to finally to do: to protect yourself, t be treated right, to be loved and appreciated for the way you are.

It is safe, please believe me. It is safe for you to be who you are. It is safe for you to don't accept scraps of love and attention from others. It is safe if you walk away from those who can't find that one thing they want in you, who is already perfectly fine and enough. It is safe for you to don't force it. It is safe for you to let them all go. Because the space they will leave behind them is not something so negative as you convince yourself to be. It is not a sign of loss. It is only more space for your own self to grow, to bloom, to be who you are. To shine so proudly and brightly and to be seen by those who will notice and love you. And not the ways you can adapt to someone elses need, desire or mood.

P.s. If you would like to receive a more personal message and guidance about your situation - find out all about it here!♡

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silvvermoon · 1 month

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Like a Battering Ram

Aki, who's always selfless with you, always giving and never taking. You want to change that, you want him to use you for once. You want him to fuck you rough and hard and punishing and no, you don't want anything less.

tags: overstimulation, dom!Aki, pussy slapping, praise, pussy eating, roughhhhh play

pairing: Aki Hayakawa x Reader

Aki’s always been so accommodating to your needs ever since you first met, ever since you first fucked. During that initial stage when you were sort-of-kind-of-maybe dating, Aki would eat your pussy out in the car as soon as he picked you up at the end of your shift because, in his words, you needed it. It didn’t matter that any of your colleagues could have seen you like that, spread out on the backseat of Aki’s car, skirt pulled up to your stomach while you whimpered against Aki’s tongue on your clit. You were always terrified you’d get caught like that, maybe even fired. But the pleasure always won out when Aki would spread your wet folds apart and murmur out “Shhh baby, I know, I know. Just a little bit longer for me, ‘kay? I just want to get you nice and ready for when I drop you home.”

Of course you gave in, you could always hold out just a little longer with the promise of getting stretched out on Aki’s cock, right?

And then, after you two properly got together, Aki never slowed down even once. Always teasing, attentive, and making sure you could handle everything he’d give you. He was always so slow to prep you, knowing that the girth of his cock made you breathless and sometimes tense up. He loved how tight you were, the way your pussy would squeeze around his cock while you’d bite your lip and try not to wince. “Easy, princess. Just take a deep breath for me, yeah?” he’d whisper, reaching down to thumb at your clit while you bucked into his touch. He’d press gentle kisses into your neck while you relaxed around him, telling you what a good girl you’ve been for him.

Aki’s always been so good to you. Never rough or careless like some of the guys you’ve been with before have been. He’s always done his best to make sure he’s patient with you, make sure you’re enjoying yourself and that you’re feeling as good as he can make you. And of course, Aki’s always done his best to make sure that you cum. Even if it means he has to spend all night with his face between your thighs.

It’s great, really. Aki is, without a doubt, the best fuck and the best boyfriend you could have ever asked for. You remind him of this as much as you can. When you’re kissing him after he gets home late from the office, when he’s making breakfast and you wrap your arms around him from behind, pressing your lips against his nape in the way you know he loves, and after he’s fucked you through and through and all you can do is breathe out “I love you so fucking much, Aki” into the pillow.

Aki’s selfless when it comes to you, and that’s the problem.

You know he’s holding back, you can feel it when he fucks you and his hands come to wrap around your throat but pull away at the last minute, with Aki leaning down to kiss you instead. Even when you’ve asked for rougher, promising him that you really can take it, he holds your hips just that tad too gently and never lets his thrusts grow too erratic. He’s always so controlled, and for once, you just want to see him let loose. You want to see him take what he wants and use your body however he needs to.

It’s just… it’s a bit hard to keep asking for rougher when Aki’s idea of rough is gently running his nails down your chest. You want pain. Like the burn in your throat when you pinch one of his cigarettes and smoke it on the balcony late at night. You want him to split your pussy open, spend less time on relaxing you and more on ramming your cervix until you’re whimpering with a mix of pain and pleasure.

So, yeah. Asking for that is going to be difficult. You only know one other option that seems to get Aki riled up more than anything else: being the biggest fucking brat Aki’s ever had to deal with.

You never expected your plan to work, and you were completely right. It doesn’t.

Your problem is that you don’t really know how to act bratty. Not in a sexy way, at least. Everything you ask Aki for, he gives you. Mostly.

You start by leaving unwashed plates by the kitchen sink, your laundry on the bedroom floor. You catch Aki raising his eyebrows at you but other than that he says nothing. You wake up to find the dishes clean and the clothes all folded away, and of course, Aki pressed up against you in bed, leaving small kisses on your nape as he reminds you not to be late for work.

It’s a bit of a foil in your plan since you always remember Aki complaining about when he lived with Denji and Power, and just how damn shitty he was with their mess. He was all snappy and hard eyes, and for some ridiculous reason your horny brain said ‘please fuck me when you’re like this.’

But Aki doesn’t snap at you or get mad, in fact, he doesn’t even look remotely close to being frustrated. So you know you’ll have to keep brainstorming some stupidly wonderful ideas to bring out that roughness inside of him.

It finally happens when you take it a little bit too far. Well, you didn’t really think it’s that bad but Aki seems to think so.

Aki’s opened the balcony door, standing half-in while holding up an empty cigarette packet and waving it at you.

“Okay, look, baby, where are the rest of my cigarettes?” he asks.

“I finished them.” You don’t even skip a beat.

Aki goes silent for a moment and you wonder if he heard you, with the thrum of the washing machine in the background drowning out your voice. You repeat yourself, and a stupid part of yourself starts to feel excited. Is this it? Was this the way to go?

Aki glares at the ground and finally speaks. “Fuck, that was my last pack unless I left one in the dra-”

“Oh, I went through that as well. Sorry.” Yes, you threw them in the bin a bit too gleefully. He doesn’t have to know that though. And no, you’re not sorry at all. Your manners have long gone in this quest for rough sex.

He’s staring at you now, a bit annoyed and a bit confused. “You don’t even smoke though, not properly anyway, so why would you go through two packs in two whole fucking days? What are you, a chimney now? Have you been replaced by Himeno in my sleep?”

Yes. This is your chance. You shove your phone back on the kitchen counter and move towards Aki, grabbing him by his tie, pulling him from the balcony and shutting the door. He’s oddly pliant for someone who’s usually so stiff.

“Maybe I did, what’re you going to do about it?” you murmur, pressing your hands against his chest and raking down, feeling the heat of his body through his shirt. “Does it annoy you?”

“Yes,” Aki says, then winces, backtracks, and tries to say, “no, I mean, not really, I guess. Just my morning smoke, but I can run down to the store to grab more.”

“You’re not even a little bit annoyed at me?” you probe.

“Definitely not at you, baby.”

You frown. Your hands are still rubbing his shoulders when you say “well that’s a shame, I’ve been trying so hard to piss you off this whole month. I really thought that one would have done it.”

Aki looks confused. “And why have you been trying to do that? Wait, is that why you’ve been making a mess of everything? I thought you were just too tired after work to do the cleaning.” He groans, “and my cigarettes, was that…?”

You pull back from him and sigh, “Aki, I love you. You’re just so… good to me. Too good. I wanted you to get annoyed enough to fuck me, you know, angrily . You’re always so sweet to me, give me everything I could ever want. But I need you to be selfish sometimes, use me . I know you get so stressed working as a devil hunter and I guess I just want you to take some of that anger out on me.” Once the words start coming out they just can’t stop. You wanted this to be natural, not awkward and stumbling like you sound now.

Aki’s silent again, and you suddenly feel very dumb. You’ve done so much dumb shit for some stupid plan that doesn’t even make sense. You start to turn away, walk back to the bedroom to go hide in bed, in the shower, in the cupboard to pretend this never happened at all and-

Aki stops you, his hand gripping your shoulder hard. His voice is low when he speaks, “You could’ve just told me that you wanted it like that.” He pulls you back to him, hands pressed into your hips.

You glance up. “You would’ve been too gentle on me, you’re too kind like that.”

Aki snorts. “Not when I see how committed you are like this. You really want it that rough, huh?” He’s pushing at you now, leading you back to the bedroom without you even realising. “How rough do you think you can handle?”

Your back hits the mattress when he urges you down, pulling at your top to get it off. You let out a yelp when he slaps your thigh, clicking his tongue while he eases you out of your skirt too. “Too slow, get this rubbish out the way.”

It’s sudden and Aki’s hands are rough on your skin. You’re too excited seeing him like this. “I can take it all, I promise,” you tell him, reaching up to tug him on top of you. Your hands are cupping his jaw, tracing down his pretty face while he undoes your bra.

Aki pauses, grabbing your hand that’s touching him. “If it’s too much, tell me to stop.”

“Will you listen?”

“Not if you don’t want me to.”

And that’s enough to make your pussy wetter than it already is. Aki hasn’t bothered removing his own clothes yet, only yours. Your panties are still on and he leans down so he can mouth at your mound through the fabric, spreading your pussy lips until he can see the outline of your wet folds.

“Spread that pretty pussy for me, yeah, just like that, angel,” he murmurs, urging you to bring your own hands down beneath your panties while he presses his lips against you. It’s a teasing touch, just his breath ghosting against the fabric. You let out a soft whimper when Aki presses a finger up against your clit, rubbing it softly before pulling back. You whine at the loss of contact.

“Shhhh, you want me to be a little bit selfish now, right?” Aki asks, and you nod eagerly. “Then be a good girl and open that pretty mouth of yours for me, yeah, that’s right”, and then his long fingers are thumbing against your lips, pressing in to slide alongside your tongue. Your mouth is watering and yet he’s barely even doing anything to you.

“Get them wet for me, sweetheart. Show me how much you wish my fingers were my cock in your mouth.”

Yeah. You could die happily right now. You love the taste of Aki’s skin, the way his fingers press to the back of your throat and make you gag a bit, you feel just so full of him. Usually, if Aki hears you gag or choke, he pulls away and checks that you’re okay. Tonight that care seems to be gone, and your eyes water when Aki slips two more fingers into your mouth, groaning as he stretches your lips as though it’s his dick stuffed down your throat.

Your breathing is hard when Aki finally removes his fingers and all you can do is wait for his next demand. He’s turned on too, you know this for sure when you see his erection through his pants and reach out to palm him. Beneath Aki’s pants is that perfectly fat cock of his, leaking precum just for you. You want to suck his cock so fucking badly, you really do, but you’ll wait for Aki to decide when he wants that.

“Shift back up on the bed for me. And pull those panties down, I want to be able to eat that pussy properly, spread wide open for me, okay?” his voice is firm and no, he’s not really asking.

“A-Aki,” you say, “you know I love your tongue on me but… tonight’s meant to be about you.”

He gives you a sharp look, and tells you “I’m not going to go easy on you, princess. I just want to make sure your cunt’s all nice and overstimulated right before I stretch you out with my cock. That’s what you want, right?”

Yes, that’s exactly what you want. You nod and whimper, “Fuck, Aki… but what about-”

Aki leans in close and coos in your ear, “I want you shaking and crying by the time I finally fuck you. Want you so fucking tight for me that that you’re still cumming again and again when I fill you up.” He’s so close, words vibrating against your skin while he sucks at the soft skin of your neck. “Think you can do that for me, angel? That’s what I want.”

And how could you ever deny him? If that’s what Aki wants from you, you’ll happily give. You’ll let him tear as many orgasms out of you as he can, until you’re nothing but a drooling mess with your pussy clenching around his cock. Milking him, begging him to fill your empty, needy cunt full of his cum.

His hands are warm on your thighs when you move back to lean against the bedhead, strong fingers kneading your soft flesh while you shakily remove your panties and toss them onto the floor. You feel incredibly exposed like this, but you know Aki’s waiting so patiently for you to do as you’re told. You reach down and spread your soaked pussy lips, gasping slightly when your thumb brushes up against your sensitive clit.

“Fuck, baby, God, you’re so- fuck,” Aki sounds so choked up, but he’s leaning in between your legs, covering your fingers with his own so that he can spread you out even more. Gently pulling the hood of your clit back so that you can feel his warm breath where you’re so, so sensitive. You love this though, knowing that Aki’s the only one who’s able to see you like this, touch you like this.

“Good girl,” he whispers as he presses kisses up your thigh, lips getting closer and closer to your aching cunt. “Keep yourself open for me, like that,” he reminds you, and that’s the only warning you get before his tongue is lapping at your clit, sucking and ghosting his teeth over your sensitive little bud. Aki’s always been good at eating your cunt, but you swear he gets better every time he’s down there. Even when he’s just teasing you, it still feels better than anything or anyone else ever has.

“A-Aki,” you whine, reaching out to grasp his hair but find your hands getting pushed away, held down against the mattress. “Stop it,” he warns. Aki keeps you like that, moving his face further down your slick folds so that his nose is rubbing up against your clit while his tongue presses into your leaking hole. “S’ good, please, more,” you slur out, because you want his tongue in you, not just the little teasing circles he’s swiping around your entrance. You need something in you so badly. Even just the bridge of Aki’s nose against your clit is enough to make you feel you’re gonna build towards your release, and if you’re going to cum, you want to be filled with Aki. His tongue, his fingers, his cock. You’ll happily take any of those as long as you’re not empty.

He pulls back, grinning at you with his lips coated in your wetness, “Patience, baby. You’re meant to be letting me enjoy myself over here.” And then he’s back to it, his warm tongue pushing past your slick folds and into your cunt, thrusting in while using his other hand to reach up and play with your clit. He’s not as gentle this time and you love it. Aki’s tongue deep in your cunt while he rolls your spit-soaked clit between two fingers, something that usually might have been too much for you but now it’s perfect. And then when he brushes his thumb over your clit just like that, you can feel the tension in your belly grow stronger, stronger, until you’re whimpering and reaching up to pinch your own nipples just to get you on that edge.

Aki knows you so well. Too well. He doesn’t even have to glance up, instead, his voice is muffled against your cunt when he says “greedy fucking girl, go on then, cum for me for the first time tonight, sweetheart,” and that’s all you need. You pinch your nipples hard enough to almost bruise them, whining and squirming as your cunt clenches around Aki’s tongue, trying to draw him in further while your soaked pussy lets out a bit of squirt. Aki keeps his fingers on your clit the whole time, helping you ride out your orgasm while he laps up your juices with his tongue.

When he finally pulls himself away from your cunt, you’re a whole fucking mess. Your cunt is still pulsing and you can barely breathe but fuck- you want more. So much more. You don’t even realise you’re saying it until Aki grabs your shaky legs, pulls them over his shoulder and asks you “what made you think I was gonna stop there?” His cock isn’t even out, and you really don’t understand why until a light smack comes down on your wet pussy.

“Fuck, Aki!” you cry, your overstimulated clit taking the full brunt of Aki’s slap. It stings lightly, and you can tell Aki’s trying to read your face to know if this is too much for you, but it’s not. You whine and spread your cunt for me, begging Aki to slap your puffy pussy lips again. It’s not enough to make you cum, but just the rhythm of his hand lightly slapping your cunt gets that warm feeling in your belly growing again. He starts light, then gradually the slaps get harsher. Not quite painful but enough to make you yelp, still spreading your pussy lips for him while you wait for the smack to come down against your clit.

“Shit,” Aki breathes, and you can see the bulge in his pants now, can feel it pressing up against the inside of your thigh, grinding slowly. “You’re doing so well for me, really didn’t think you’d be able to take this much” he tells you, pulling his hand back to unzip his pants. You don’t even care about the stinging sensation of your cunt, all you can do is watch as Aki strips for you, shirt off first, pants and briefs gone next.

You’ve always adored every part of Aki; his pretty face, his lightly-toned figure, his crap sense of humour and of course, his OCD cleaning routine that quite literally clashes with your hoarding routine. But fuck, his cock is fucking perfect for you. He’s thick as fuck, more than girthy enough to stretch your tight cunt out and make you gasp, but not too long to the point where it hurts. Aki’s cock was made for pounding you, always hitting the right spots and making you tear up when you cum on him. You reach out to palm him, wanting to feel the pre-cum he’s leaking in your hand but he slaps you away again.

“Stop that. What did I say?” Aki slurs, eyes heavy as he presses his cock up against your swollen entrance, “patience, angel. I’ll only give it to you if you’re good for me.” And that’s a big fucking lie. He really should be making you wait but no, Aki’s already pushing in, making you tense up at the stretch and gasp for air. He was right, you’re way too overstimulated to take him with any sort of ease. Your cunt tightens around him as he stretches you out, making you whimper while he whispers into your ear “shhhh, you’re alright, baby. I know, just relax. Let me make you feel good.” You trust him on that, Aki always knows how to make you feel good.

Aki stills, cups your face, and says “I won’t make it hurt, not too much anyway. Only as much as you can take.”

You try to nod shakily at him when he’s most of the way in, “please Aki, s’ good now, I need it,” you whine, bucking your hips up to get him in just a little deeper. You can handle it. The only problem is with your legs around Aki’s shoulders, you don’t really have much room to take control. It’s all up to Aki, and so far he’s only rewarding you with shallow thrusts, glancing down at where his cock is splitting you open.

“You’re so fucking greedy,” he says, and it’s sudden, but he almost pulls out all the way, only to slam back into your cunt harder, and harder again. You’re so sensitive, you’re pussy clenching and tightening up every time Aki fucks you, hits the sensitive spot inside you that makes you gasp, struggling to breathe. Your pussy was already a tiny bit sore but now it’s aching, for more, less, maybe both.

“You can take more, baby, I know you can,” Aki says, voice raspy against your neck. And then he’s biting down, sucking at your neck hard enough to leave marks that’ll last for days. Your collarbone, the side of your throat, your jaw, Aki bites at any skin you will offer him. It’s all so much and with Aki’s thick cock inside you, it’s the only thing you could ever want. You feel brainless, just letting Aki use you until he’s done fucking your overstimulated cunt. You feel like your cunt was made purely for him to use.

Of course, you don’t even object when Aki lightly slaps you on the jaw, telling you to “open wide, need you to suck my fingers, pretty girl.” That’s exactly what you do, letting your mouth fall open while Aki presses his thumb against your lower lip, guiding in while ramming your pussy at the same time. You moan around his fingers, almost choking on your own saliva when his cock starts hitting your sweet spot over and over. The way your cunt wraps around his cock was enough to make you almost cry, but now that he’s pressing up against your g-spot, all you can do is whimper and suck desperately on his fingers.

“I’m gonna-”, fuck, you can’t even talk like this. Mouth and pussy both so full of Aki. “I’m gonna cum, please- yes, please-” it’s all you can get out, and you don’t care how pathetic you sound all choked up like this. “Need to cum, I- please, need to cum on your cock, Aki-” and he doesn’t slow down at all. Just continues splitting your abused pussy open, head of his cock rubbing up against your sweet spot hard until you’re crying and squirting around him, drool spilling down your lips while he fucks you through your orgasm hard and fast.

Your cunt twitches as Aki continues to fuck you even after, the aftershocks of your orgasm hitting you even as his thrusts grow erratic, his fingers in your mouth pressing at the back of your throat sloppily while you try not to wince. It’s too much and a part of you feels like you might cum again, but you doubt you’d be able to handle it even if you can.

That all changes though when Aki reaches down to rub at your clit, his fingers gently rubbing your abused little nub.

“Come on, I know you can give me one more, right?” Aki breathes into your ear, “You’ve been such a good fucking girl, you deserve just one more reward, princess.” It’s not fair, you think. Aki’s been fucking you rough and hard, his hair stuck to his forehead with sweat and yet he still sounds so much more composed than you. It’s not fair that he still has the coordination to rub your clit until he’s tugging a third orgasm from you tonight. All you can do is whine, grasp at the bedsheets while you cunt pulses around Aki again and again, soft whimpers leaving your lips as Aki finally reaches his own finish.

“Fuck, baby, you’ve done so well tonight,” Aki gasps, his breath hard against your neck. You can feel the way his body tightens and relaxes, fucks you once, twice, three times, before lazily thrusting up into your cunt while he spills inside you, pushing his cum back in your hole before finally pulling out. You don’t have the energy to do anything other than lie back and try to breathe, you don’t even give a shit that Aki’s cum is leaking out of your puffy pussy, you’re too tired and nothing matters.

You’re vaguely aware of Aki moving about, leaving the bedroom to get something, probably coffee, cigarettes, maybe both. He comes back with water for you instead though, handing you a glass while you smile up at him. Or try to anyway, you’re pretty sure even your facial muscles are gone at this point.

Aki leans down to kiss your forehead, asking, “was that rough enough for you? Too much?”

You want to laugh but can’t because as usual, Aki outperforms everything you could have ever wanted. Except, “next time, I want you to make me choke on your cock. You used my pussy, so how about my throat or ass next time?”

Aki sighs, leans down kiss your neck and says “well then, I guess we’ll have to try, God, you really are a greedy girl.”

Yeah, you won’t deny that either.

#aki hayakawa #chainsaw man #aki x reader #csm x reader #aki hayakawa x reader #aki hayakawa x y/n #aki brainrot #aki smut #aki hayakawa smut #anime x reader #aki thirst #csm fic

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merakiui · 2 months

Note

Kink and orgasm for the eels, please🌷

>:) many thoughts for those two.......

(nsfw asks)

kink — what are their kinks? do they have a primary kink? are there any kinks they’d be interested in trying? are there any kinks they don’t like or aren’t interested in trying?

I like to imagine both eels operate under the notion that they'll try everything at least once, especially kinks that they've never even heard of (like the ones that are most common amongst land-dwellers and may be impossible to achieve or unheard of in the sea). It's mostly a curiosity and a source of entertainment.

For Jade, I think he adores shibari and bondage. Anything that involves a level of clinical patience (which Jade definitely has). There's something beautiful in having you tied up with all kinds of pretty rope patterns. Even better if he has you squirming while you're bound, entirely at his mercy hehe. Of course it goes without saying he's a feet guy. I feel like the trio admire feet and legs to an extent, but Jade's more unhinged about it than Floyd and Azul are. <3 humiliation is another big one. Jade is a Freak (affectionate) and he loves it whenever you insult him or talk down to him or humiliate him in any way. Please bully him! orz

Also,,,, he'd love to try knife play at some point. Perhaps he'd even be willing to try bottoming just to know what it feels like. Something something reverse predator-prey play, in which Jade plays the prey role. Jade's mostly flexible when it comes to trying new things, but he (like Floyd) will be firm in the things he isn't interested in. I feel like he'd love to enjoy food play, but with his voracious appetite it's difficult to not just devour all of the food decorating your body and so for that reason it isn't a favored kink of his. He'll still be willing to do it with you if you ever wish for it, though. Jade will never say no to two of his favorite things: you and food.

He wouldn't be outright open with kinks he thinks are too extreme or dangerous (by human standards,, but also he isn't an easily read book), but if you're willing to try them (and genuinely trust him and yourself) he wouldn't be opposed.

For Floyd,,,, what hasn't he tried? Floyd never truly settles on any go-to kinks just because his tastes are prone to change, and he enjoys doing new and exciting things in the bedroom. But if you pay close attention you'll notice a pattern. If you're smaller than him, he loves the size difference and uses that to his advantage. Sometimes he likes it when you play more dominating roles in bed; other times he has you lie back and he'll do all of the work. Floyd isn't picky.

A big lover of oral sex and cunnilingus. That tongue of his works wonders. He loves being between your thighs. Loves having you sit on his face. Loves licking your tears away. I think he's the twin with the bigger breeding kink. It doesn't matter if you can't get pregnant; Floyd just loves the idea of starting a family with you, and it's mer instincts that compel him to cum inside every time. Depending on his mood, he'll cum anywhere on your body, but nothing can beat doing it inside.

As much as he wants to like it, he just can't get into choking you. >_< he doesn't like the idea of hurting his shrimpy, even though he knows it can be okay if it's done safely and correctly. He can't bring himself to inflict lots of pain, even if said pain might be hypothetical or it's more psychological than anything. Now if you wanted to choke him..... say less because he is SO READY. He also doesn't like to be on the receiving end of restraints. Maybe he'll try it once or twice if he loves you (and he does, wholeheartedly), but he'll squirm a lot. The last time you gagged him he chewed through the leather. T_T Floyd has to be patient if he wants the pleasure you've promised him, and you always provide. <3

He wants to try it all, so please experiment with him!!

orgasm — how would their partner(s) know if they orgasm? what is their orgasm reaction like? are they sensitive after having an orgasm? what is the most effective way to get them to quickly orgasm?

Jade isn't very loud unless he wants to be and then he might consider exaggerating it for the sake of his own entertainment. I do think his voice goes up ever so slightly in pitch and he sounds just a little more breathless. Jade's brain turns to mush when he cums and so he's dazed and silly in the aftermath. The façade falls away and he's just Jade, sweet and clingy and soft. It took him some time to get accustomed to the sensations of sex in his human form. Perhaps he's just a little more sensitive in mer form than he is in human form, especially when it's breeding season.

I like to imagine Floyd has a tendency to bury his face in the crook of your neck or in your chest (anywhere that's warm, where he can hear and taste your heartbeat) when he cums. Sometimes he's a gasping, panting mess and other times he'll grunt or moan lowly. It really depends. Floyd loves to lose himself in sex with you. In the aftermath, though, he's quiet and more subdued, choosing to bask in the silence with you as both of you come down from your highs. He clings as he usually does, but his recovery time is notably fast. Within minutes, he's up and ready to fetch whatever it is you might need. He's far more sensitive in mer form than he is in human form. Floyd thinks the sensations are duller in human form.

#twisted chit chat #n/sfw

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borathae · 10 months

Text

"PMSing is hard. Thankfully you have a boyfriend who is the most patient and understanding person on earth, even if he is currently the target of your mood swings."

Pairing: Yoongi x f.Reader

Genre: established relationship!AU, Slice of Life, Fluff

Warnings: she is pmsing really hard, mood swings, a little unnecessary fight, Yoongi being the most loving and understanding person ever, he's also a cutie, she can't be mad at him for long <3

Wordcount: 1.5k

a/n: where are my fellow PMS-sufferer? we're really out there fighting battles. istfg boongie <3 i miss him so much :( he'd be such a patient booboo 😔

You were mad at him. And it was his fault because he messed up. You are currently renovating one of the greenhouse flower beds and realised in the middle of renovating that you didn’t have enough plants to fill the bed. So you asked Yoongi to go to the plant store for more and he returned with the wrong plants. Okay fair enough, maybe you are a little overreacting as well. As a matter of fact, you are very much overreacting. But it’s only a few days till your period starts and your hormones seem to hate you this month. You are constantly upset about the silliest of things and everything seems so very difficult to handle. Yoongi coming home with the wrong plants felt like the greatest betrayal in history to you. You accused him of not listening to you while he pouted at you and told you that he mixed up the names at the store, which you obviously didn’t believe because he “is a stinky liar”. Truly the fight was very unnecessary and way too dramatic for something as silly as plants, but you were upset nonetheless and so Yoongi left to allow you to cool down.

Speaking of Yoongi, he is back in the greenhouse again after leaving you to calm down. It has been a little over an hour since he left.

“Princess?”

You tense up at his voice, feeling weirdly tingly in the stomach. Not in a good way, but in a guilty yet also very annoyed way. You weren’t ready to face him yet. You still had to get over the embarrassment of acting like a child, but also the annoyance of having the wrong plants.

Maybe if you pretend that you can’t hear him, he will leave again.

“My flower princess?”

You furrow your brows. Damn him and his stupid, cute nicknames. They work too well.

“What?” you grumble.

Shuffling of feet, then the sound of something being put down next to you. You sneak a glance at it. There is a basket of the correct plants next to you. Yoongi must have gone back to the store to get them. Your heart flutters, your eyes burn in the desire to cry. He is so sweet and lovely and amazing and you are such a bitch.

“Look at what I got”, he says.

“Mhm.”

Yoongi squats down next to you.

“Are these the correct ones?” he asks with hopeful eyes.

You nod your head, turning away from him slightly. You are aware that you’re being childish right now, but if you look at him for too long you will start crying uncontrollably.

A defeated sigh from him, then you feel arms around you and lips on your cheek.

“Are you still mad at me?” he asks in a whisper, rubbing his hand up and down your arm.

“Yes, you’re stinky.”

“No princess, don’t say that. I’m not stinky.”

“Yeah you are, you stinky meanie.”

“___”, he whines, pulling you into his chest, “I already said I’m sorry and I got the right plants, please don’t make it so hard.”

“Well, I heard you but decided that I’m still mad.”

“And there is nothing I can do to make it better?”

“Don’t know.”

“I could make you a snack.”

“No, don’t want to eat.”

“Well then how about I give you head scratches?” he offers, nuzzling his nose into your hair as best as possible.

You shiver at the feeling, but decide to stay strong.

You huff out air and pout.

“I could eat your pussy”, he whispers, letting his lips brush against your ear.

It sounds tempting and makes you tingle.

“Yoongi”, you whine, “stop.”

He chuckles lazily, “was that a yes?”

“No, you’re being unfair and mean.”

He laughs, placing a soft kiss to your ear, “I’m not. I’m fighting for my life here.”

You roll your eyes and wiggle yourself out of the hug, abandoning Yoongi on the ground as you stand up. He looks up at you with pouty lips and sad eyes.

“Thanks for the plants”, you mumble and kick a small imaginary pebble.

“Am I forgiven?” he asks.

“Don’t know yet”, you say and turn to leave the greenhouse.

“Princess please”, Yoongi begs, scrambling to his feet. He trots after you, “princess love, please don’t be mad at me anymore.”

“Go away, you stinky”, you tell him.

Yoongi pouts, following you outside.

The garden is coming along greatly. The flowers and grasses are growing, bees and insects are buzzing and your herbs drench the air in amazing scents.

You lead the way along the narrow nature paths. Yoongi follows until the once narrow paths break up into a lowly cut meadow. Crossing it and one would reach the vegetable garden. You are strutting to it confidently.

Yoongi jogs to catch up with you and goes in for his move. He grabs your hand, intertwining his fingers with yours tightly.

You continue your walk, but slow down a little. Slower. Slower. Slower.

Stop.

Two steps and you would be by the vegetable beds.

The wind tickles your shins, the sun is shining.

You turn, looking at your intertwined hands then at Yoongi.

He is squinting his eyes because of the sunlight.

“I won’t let go until you stop being angry at me”, he tells you, squeezing your hand.

You’re not really mad at him anymore. As a matter of fact, you think that it is incredibly cute of him to hold hands as a way of making up.

You take a deep breath and release it as a sigh through your nose. Damn him and his cute methods. You’re being a meanie. You take out your sunglasses from your dungaree front pocket and slip them on his face as best as possible. Yoongi helps you with it, snatching your other hand as well once finished.

“Really?” you ask him, holding back a smile.

“Yeah. Really”, he says, swaying your hands gently, “I could do this all day.”

“What if I have to pee?”

“You can’t pee if you can’t drink. I can do this all day.”

Fine, he’s got you. You laugh, lowering your head.

“You’re stinky”, you murmur.

“What?” he insist with a smile.

“You’re stupid!” you blurt out, meeting his eyes, “stop making me laugh.”

“Why? Cause it’s hard being mad at me when you gotta laugh?”

“Yeah.”

Yoongi chuckles. He steps closer, caressing your knuckles.

“Does that mean you’re ready to forgive me?”

You pout, “you’re unfair, you know? I tell you to leave me alone and you go and make me hold hands.”

He smiles, “it’s the best way to make up.”

“No, the best way’s kisses.”

Yoongi takes the opportunity and smooches your cheek. Then your other. And one last right on your lips.

He moves back, meeting your playful, coy gaze.

“Like this?” he asks.

You roll your eyes and grin, swaying your shoulders from side to side.

“Yeah, I guess”, you murmur.

Yoongi scrunches his nose. You lower your eyes, swinging your hands from left to right gently.

“Soo am I forgiven?” he asks quietly.

You nod your head.

“God, you stubborn baby, you. Making it so hard for me. Com’ere”, he says, pulling you into a hug.

You fall into it gladly, hugging him as tightly as possible with your eyes closed. He smells so good and pets your head just perfectly.

“I know, I’m sorry”, you mumble into him, “I don’t feel good lately. PMS is hitting me hard this month. I’m sorry, I try not to be so upset about everything, but everything feels like the worst thing ever.”

“Mhm, I know”, he speaks softly, rubbing your back, “I’m here, princess love. Okay?”

You nod your head, smiling softly when he kisses your head. You love hugging him so much.

“Oh god, Yoongi now I’m crying”, you confess, sniffling into him sadly.

“God princess, don’t cry”, he gasps, hugging you tighter.

“It’s just that you’re so cute and perfect and, and I’m always so mean to you, oh god I’m the worst girlfriend ever”, you say and let out a little sob.

“No you’re not. God princess love, it’s okay. It was one time and we made up. God, come here”, he chuckles, swooping you off your feet to bounce you in his arms, “let’s get you some tea to drink, yeah?”

You nod your head, hiding your face in the crook of his neck as you sob over the silliest of reasons.

“Fuck princess, I’m letting you drink something, which means you’re gonna have to go pee. I’m breaking my own promises here”, he jokes in hopes of making you laugh. It works perfectly, you are giggling and snickering into the crook of his neck, clinging to him like the cuddliest koala. He laughs softly, patting your butt, “you’re cute. Even with your mood swings.”

“Noo Yoongi, don't say that. I’m sensitive today. I’ll cry again”, you whine.

“Okay, okay sorry”, Yoongi laughs, making you snicker as well.

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beaucorail · 5 months

Text

[18+] 𝐛𝐞𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐢𝐟𝐮𝐥.

sub Remy LeBeau x dom GN reader

Sobbing at the lack of sub Remy rep. I need this man’s back arching for me, damnit.

!!! praise, handjobs, feminization, soft dom hours, slightest bit of overstim, Remy needs to know he’s fucking pretty, reader makes Remy know he’s fucking pretty, hair pulling.

“Remy, love… look at me?”

He let out a tiny whimper, ruby eyes cracking open to hazily stare up at you. Dilated pupils almost eclipsed his irises, and his ebony scleras were so glossy with unshed tears, you swore you could see your own reflection in them. Shuddery breaths ghosted over his drool-slick lips as he tried not to let his head lull to the side.

You could feel your heart melting at the sight.

“Thank you, baby,” you softly cooed at him, now stroking his length at a faster pace. As high pitched moans tumbled from his lips, he arched his back off of the bed and twisted his fingers into the sheets. Hearing his incoherent mutters prompted a soft smile out of you. So far gone already… he truly was the cutest thing in the world, no matter what nonsense he comes up with to protest. Your free hand came up to softly caress his flushed face, letting out a pleased hum as he leaned into your touch. “What a pretty sight you are… such a pretty princess, Remy…”

“Hm… mm—!! J… j’teh…mmh!! S’vuhplaih… s’vuh… plaih… hah!!” His eyes looked close to screwing shut again, but he seemed desperate to keep them open for you, tears threatening to spill over from the hand on his cock. An angled flick of your wrist caused him to cry out again. “Hahh—!! (Y/N)!! Cher!!”

You brushed a couple of copper strands out of his face. “I’m here, love. You’re being so good… so good for me, Remy… god, you’re gorgeous!”

He let out a particularly loud whine. “Cher!! Cher!! (Y/N)!!” Shakily, he brought his hand up where yours was cupping his cheek, gripping it tightly as his heels dug into the mattress. “Juh… ah— hah!! Close!! Close!! Nnnhh—!!”

“Cum for me,” was your simple reply. Your sweet tone seemed to finally release his tears, the wetness ghosting against your hand as they dribbled down his face. Swiping a thumb over the slit, you smeared pearly beads of precum against his tip as you continued to pump him towards his climax. His full-body jolts and crossing eyes told you he was extremely close.

Then, with a strangled cry, he came against both of your stomachs.

As he hiccuped and twitched through it, you kept stroking him until he was milked dry; he had to pathetically paw at your hand to get you to stop, an adorable mix of “trop” and “too much” falling from his mouth with his tongue poking out. Your hand finally released his spent member to trail up trembling torso all the way to his jawline. Gently petting the hint of stubble, you gave him enough time to catch his breath before speaking up.

“You’re so beautiful, Remy. You know that, right?”

He gave out a hoarse chuckle and lazily blinked up at you. “Tryin’a flatter me, cher?”

“Trying to tell you the truth,” you countered.

Your sincerity caused him to falter for a second, but he quickly recovered. “The truth be that you the beautiful one here, cher.”

It pained you to see just how difficult praising your lover could be. He always seemed to have some sort of deflection ready, either shooting your words back at you or downplaying them entirely. You knew he yearned for your kindness — the tear tracks on his face were enough evidence of that — but he never let himself accept it when you showered him in it.

That’s why you have to fuck it into him; reduce him into a moaning and sobbing mess to get it through his thick skull that he was your pretty darling and you meant it.

“Remy,” (you silently reveled in the shiver that went through his body at your low tone,) “you know I don’t like it when you do that. You’re beautiful. My precious baby. Okay?”

A thick swallow was his only response, his eyes getting glossy again. You waited patiently for a verbal response until realizing you weren’t going to get one. Deeply frowning, you brought the hand on his stubble up to his hair, weaving your fingers through the locks before clenching it into a fist. He let out a startled moan and you watched in real time as his pupils dilated.

“You’re beautiful,” you firmly repeated. “Say it for me? Say you’re beautiful, babygirl?”

He swallowed again as the tears began to fall. Pure adoration overpowered the rekindling hint of lust in his eyes as he weakly uttered, “I… I’m beautiful…”

“My pretty little darling?” You pulled a whimper out from him when you tightened your grip on his hair. “My pretty babygirl?”

“Y-your pretty li’l darlin’,” he gasped. His tear-streaked cheeks got impossibly rosier, tongue darting out to wet his lips. “Your… pretty babygirl—!!”

A gentle smile tugged at the corner of your mouth. “That’s it, love. Tell me how beautiful you are. Tell me how you’re my pretty princess.”

He let out a keen, spouting some unintelligible mumbles mixed between English and French as you pulled your other hand out of his to trail down his body. He was once again revealing that vulnerable side of him that yearns for your praise; the side that he keeps guarded under light teases and cheesy pick-up lines, but you know how to pull it out of him. All it takes is a skillful hand and your overwhelming affection.

And, luckily for him, you’re more than willing to provide for your precious babygirl.

#nsft #marvel smut #x men smut #remy lebeau smut #marvel x trader #x men x reader #remy lebeau x reader #sub character #sub remy lebeau #dom reader #gn reader

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imagining-in-the-margins · 1 year

Text

Growing Pains (S.R.)

Summary: When Spencer finds unfamiliar lingerie in the laundry, he didn’t realize how difficult it would be when he confronted his wife… and learned it didn’t belong to her, either. It belonged to their daughter. Request: reader and Spencer are happily married and have a 16-year daughter. She has a new boyfriend (her first boyfriend) and her parents are worried. They meet the boyfriend. A/N: Who doesn't love a little Dad!Spencer? Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader Category: Domestic Fluff (16+) Content Warning: Awkwardness, father & daughter relationship, protective Dad Spencer, lingerie, meeting the parents, firearms mention, Spencer finds his daughter’s lingerie and thinks his wife is cheating on him, it’s hard to explain, mentions of sexual themes, innocent kissing Word Count: 3.7k

There is something so mundane yet so serene about suburban life. That idyllic air that carried small bits of freshly mown grass and children’s laughter. That wasn’t to say that my life was uneventful, however.

After all, it would be nearly impossible to have a boring life while married to Spencer Reid.

But it was rare for me to feel any level of discomfort as I patrolled familiar halls. Mild annoyance, maybe, but never before had I felt such a sense of foreboding.

Not until that fateful day where I arrived home from errands to find that the clean laundry has already been pulled from the dryer. That in itself wasn’t bad—I was more than happy to let someone else do the folding—yet when I walked up the stairs, the hairs on the back of my neck stood at attention.

“Spencer?” I called.

“In here,” he answered without his normal enthusiasm.

Now that was unnerving.

The situation only got worse when I did finally open the door to find him awkwardly pacing around the room. My attention followed him back and forth a couple times before he came to a sudden stop.

“Hi honey,” I offered as gently as I could, “What’s up?”

“Hi,” he replied, still dejected and distant. He didn’t come any closer to me before he began fiddling with his fingers.

After a tense moment of silence, I asked again, more directly, “Are you alright, Spencer?”

“I have something very difficult to discuss with you, and I-I just want to ask for you to be patient with me.”

My heart sunk at the realization that the sense of foreboding was coming from him. The muscles straight up stopped beating, turned to rocks, and tumbled into my stomach.

I shook my head to try to stave off the stupor associated with shock.

“What are you talking about?” I asked because I needed to know just how much my simple suburban life was about to change.

Was he cheating on me? Was he going back to prison? Were their federal agents standing outside, ready to tear our family from our home?

When he finally began to speak, however, it was far from a satisfying explanation.

“I know I’m not always the best husband, and I know I can be absent and that the stress of the job and the kids and the state of the entire world, really, can get in the way of our time together,” he said with an increasing tempo.

“Spencer,” I said as a beg and a warning, “Just say it.”

He held his hands up in surrender as he pleaded back, “Please, just…”

I could feel my pulse in every extremity. My skin burned with blood and my lungs cried out for oxygen.

“I know you, I do,” he assured me before he continued, “and I know this sounds so unbelievably horrible for me to even accuse you of something like this, but…”

Me?

In that terrifying silence, I ran through our lifetime of memories to try to find something I might have done wrong. But no matter how hard I searched, I found nothing that might make him want to leave me like this.

Unless…

And then he said it.

“Are you… cheating on me?”

So quickly, my fear shifted to white-hot rage that came out of my mouth so ungracefully that I nearly knocked the lamp off the bedside table in my confusion.

“What?! No!” I shrieked, “Oh my god, what made you think that?!”

At first, Spencer relaxed. The veracity of my answer had been convincing because it had been true. But Spencer, clearly still concerned that I was somehow an award-worthy actress, continued to wring his hands together throughout his poorly planned confrontation.

“I, um… I found… lingerie. In the laundry,” he said with a tilted timbre. “And I know I’ve never seen it on you before, and I also know it wasn’t new.”

The busy blood in my veins immediately knew to cower. Before it had even struck me how utterly fucked I was, I was practically trembling with concern.

Spencer saw the fear, and instead of realizing it was about what he had no way of knowing, he interpreted it as a different kind of admission.

“So, whose is it?” he asked.

Stepping towards the bed, I motioned for him to take a seat. When he didn’t? I urged him, “Honey, sit down.”

“… Oh,” he muttered before practically collapsing on the bed.

Slightly annoyed by the dramatics, I rolled my eyes and sighed before I explained, “No, not that.”

He didn’t believe me, so I sighed again.

“Spencer, I am not cheating on you.”

That time, he sighed. I let him enjoy the brief reprieve before I threw him headlong into the worst kind of turmoil.

“What you found… isn’t mine,” I stated very clearly.

“But—?”

“It belongs to our daughter.”

The room fell silent. I watched as the realization dawned on him. Slowly, his glazed over eyes began to reflect the harrowing reality.

Then, all at once, his entire world came to a devastating end. Jumping up from his seat on the bed, Spencer grabbed his head and yelled in utter disbelief.

“What?!”

“Spencer, calm down,” I tried.

It didn’t work.

“What do you—she’s only 16! What do you mean it’s her—?!”

I watched from the sidelines as his brain short circuited. He tried to pace, but ended up just trapped in the same spot with flailing arms and wild hair.

Eventually, he settled on the question that had made me so nervous in the first place.

“Where did she even get it from?!”

“I bought it for her,” I said.

The fight left his body immediately. Spencer fell back on the bed and buried his face in his hands with a dramatic groan.

I sighed, again.

I was fully prepared to let him wallow in the grief of his daughter’s childhood, too. But then he had to go and say something silly again.

“Oh my god, I wish you had been cheating on me,” he strained, “That would have been so much easier than this.”

“Spencer!”

“I’m sorry!” he conceded immediately, “I didn’t mean it. I love you, I’m glad you aren’t cheating on me.”

Despite his well-intentioned apology, he remained inconsolable. I thought about giving him a moment to spiral, but I also knew that this was a bandaid that had practically fused into his skin.

At a certain point, it just became necessary for us to discuss it—with or without the dramatics.

“I know this is upsetting for you, but our daughter is almost a grown woman,” I explained to my pitiful husband who continued to make sounds of general protest. “I don’t want her to think of her body as anything less than something worth feeling good about.”

Finally popping up from behind his hands, he returned a bitter laugh.

“Okay, but is she doing it to make herself feel good, or to please some piece of shit asshole quarterback?” he spat.

He didn’t appreciate the way it made me laugh, but I couldn’t help it. It was a ridiculous notion and he deserved to be mocked for it.

“Spencer, your daughter would not be interested in a quarterback.”

He knew I was right, but in typical Spencer fashion, he refused to admit it.

Instead, he just huffed, “How would I know?!”

But I knew he would, eventually, respond to reason, so I didn’t relent no matter how much he begged me to.

“Sex shouldn’t be a scary thing for a teenage girl! I wanted her to know she can feel comfortable telling me things. Like if she needs condoms or the pill or, heaven forbid—!”

“Oh my god, please stop,” he groaned, “Just, give me a second, please!”

I allowed him the moment because I knew he needed it.

Sure enough, after a couple seconds of reflection and a few deep breaths, Spencer returned to his normal eccentricity. He even managed to chuckle to himself a little bit, although I’m sure he’d still felt his dramatics were justified.

He didn’t protest when I took a seat beside him on the bed. In fact, he was quick to lean on me.

I wrapped my arms around him and tried to stifle my laughter at how downtrodden he’d become. My hand smoothed over his hand and I tried to offer him reassurance that everything would be alright if our daughter grew up.

“Oh, honey, nothing has changed. She’s still our baby girl,” I reminded him.

“I know,” he sighed. Then, through laughter he muttered, “It was just a lot for me to go from thinking you secretly hated me to our daughter wearing lingerie, alright? It’s a lot.”

He buried his face against my shoulder and took another deep breath before he held me back. The simple gesture reminded me just how much he’d probably been through in past hour. Of course, it had all been self-inflicted and based on comical perceptions. But it was a lot, and I always loved the chance to comfort him.

We sat like that for a while. We sat with the knowledge that we’d made it this far. There was something special about this fear, because it meant that we had done at least a few things right.

That didn’t really help assuage any of the fears for the future, however.

“Is she having sex?” he asked.

I wished I had a better answer.

“I don’t know,” I admitted with an exhausted groan, “My plan didn’t work. She won’t tell me anything.”

“What do we do?”

It was a question I’d spent hours pondering only to end on the same-old, unsatisfying answer.

“I guess we just… wait until she’s ready to tell us about her boyfriend.”

Silently, Spencer lifted his head and turned to me. The foreboding returned with a vengeance, but this time, I was prepared for the question to follow.

“… her what?”

I’d always heard people say that domestic suburban life could be hell on earth. I’d always shrugged it off, convinced that I had figured out the impossible and remained happily in love with my wife and the proud father of a very well-adjusted daughter.

But as I stood in my bedroom, bereft of even the basic will to live while my beautiful, loving wife fixed my tie, I realized that they had been right.

Fatherhood was hell, and my wife was the devil’s favorite accomplice.

On any other occasion, her preening would have me melting between deft fingers. In that moment, however, I felt nothing but disdain at her attention to detail.

Because she was not doing it for my benefit. She was doing it so that my disheveled appearance wouldn’t upset another man. A cruel man who sought to steal away the brightest light of my life.

That night I had to meet my daughter’s very first boyfriend.

“Are you ready?” my wife asked.

“No, you took away my gun,” I replied with the utmost sincerity.

Clever eyes darted up to mine before she laughed. The sound brought me little comfort. I tried to be upset at how she took joy in my suffering, but my lips turned to a pout before a frown.

“Yes, you’re very scary, dear,” she hummed.

Then, without warning, she pressed her lips to mine. Perfectly painted lips felt different but still tasted sweet.

Those damned fingers smoothed over my shoulders until stern muscles relaxed once more.

Eventually they crept up and cupped my jaw. Gently—at first.

So quickly they turned brutal, pressing hard enough on my cheeks to force another pout from tired lips.

“He’s a sweet boy and you’re going to be nice to him, alright?” she warned.

If she hadn’t been squeezing me so tightly, she would’ve seen me smile.

“We’ll see about that,” I deadpanned.

Again, she laughed, and that time, it brought me all the comfort I could ever need.

That darling devil of a woman stole one more kiss before she whispered, “Good enough.”

For a moment, it was. But then the doorbell rang and, despite all her efforts to lift up a heavy heart, it still plummeted to my stomach at the sound.

So quickly, my favorite girls had fled towards the door and left me frozen in the lurch. My hands and feet felt numb as my heart tried to reason with a stubborn mind.

There were some things a father had to eventually face.

My little girl was growing up, and my bad knee probably wouldn’t survive the jump out of a second story window.

There was only one way out of this. I had to go through it all.

I could hear their voices, so full of joy and love that it made me ache at the thought of losing half of it.

But deep down, I knew that I risked losing her regardless of how much I resisted the boy she’d chosen.

So, eventually, I managed to shuffle stubborn feet down the hall and towards the living room.

Somewhat to my surprise, the boy’s presence was hardly noted. In fact, if my wife hadn’t been making such a fuss about the bouquet he’d handed her, I might have even missed him.

We locked eyes from across the room. The poor boy’s muscles seized in an instant. His shoulders crept towards his ears and he lost the battle of keeping his eyes on me.

There was a distant, fleeting feeling at the sight. Something not easily described, which made my palms sweaty.

My eyes almost fell to the floor, too, but they were stopped by the sight of my daughter. Seemingly unaware of my gaze, she’d thrown her arms around the boy the first moment that she could.

Again, my heart ached with a confounding feeling. With narrowed eyes and a fast-beating heart, I struggled to place it.

Thankfully, my wife was quick to interrupt before the two had caught me staring.

Before she called us all to dinner, though, I spotted that same wistful twinkling in her eye. She had simply been better at hiding it than me.

For that same reason, I let her take charge. I sat almost silent, successfully biting my tongue to save my daughter from the embarrassment of my unbridled enthusiasm.

Of course, her pride hadn’t been the only reason that I’d hardly spoken. There had been a couple more selfish desires.

The first was my unwaning concern about any boy who’d so much as looked at my daughter. However unlikely it might have been, I had to be certain that this boy was as harmless as he seemed.

My mind began running a million scenarios of increasing horror. Yet right before the fateful final moment, the theoretical fell flat.

There was, to my relief, almost nothing disconcerting about the boy.

Almost.

There was still… that funny feeling.

“Dr. Reid?”

The sound of a familiar moniker in an unfamiliar place—from an increasingly familiar voice.

“Hm?” I answered the boy.

“I hope it doesn’t sound rude, but I looked you up before I came,” he said with the telltale crackling of a nervous teenage boy.

“I don’t think it’s rude,” I said.

That’s what I would have done, was the unspoken realization.

“Well, that’s a relief,” he laughed.

My wife and daughter stifled a chuckle as they exchanged a secret set of glances that I didn’t understand.

“Your writing is way more advanced than my reading level,” the boy continued, “but I did try to read some of them. Your philosophy papers seemed so…”

He struggled to find the next word. His face twisted between a smile and something similar to a flinch. I recognized the hesitance like a mirror to the past.

“Would… hopeful be the right word?” he asked.

“Yes!” I shouted, to my own surprise.

And that boy’s face lit up like a properly screwed lightbulb from one of my very poorly received philosophy jokes.

I had become so excited by the prospect of being understood—for once—by someone so young and green that I could hardly contain my excitement.

“Which paper did you—?”

I cut myself off when I heard a soft sigh from the boy’s side.

At first, I’d thought that it was my daughter trying to warn me of my first social faux pas of the evening. But I was instead pleasantly surprised to find her contented smile. Although, it was aimed at someone else.

“No, please,” the boy beamed, “I want to hear about all of them.”

I contained the buzzing in my fingertips that tapped against the table. I turned to my wife for permission, but her slight nod didn’t provide me the confidence to continue.

It wasn’t enough until my daughter blurted out, “Go ahead, dad. I know what I signed up for.”

What confounding words to be uttered so simply. I didn’t dare question them then.

Instead, I answered his question. I spoke at length and about anything he could remember. To my surprise, the conversation wasn’t nearly as one or two sided as I’d expected.

By my daughters third question, I was forced to accept that she really had been listening to me all those years while staring down at her phone.

My wife had been the quietest person at the table. The whole dinner, she just seemed to lean back and admire the scene before her. But behind each sip from her glass, I spotted a cheeky smile that appeared alongside that wistful distance in her eyes.

I decided I would ask her later what she saw.

Later came sooner than expected, however. The summer sun had long since set when an unfamiliar phone dinged.

“Oh, sorry, it’s my mom,” the boy muttered. There was a brief disappointment that seemed to dissipate the moment he read the message. “I should really get going, anyway. I don’t want to take up your whole night with my curiosity.”

“He really would talk forever if you let him,” my daughter said under her breath.

I assumed it had been a comment about me.

I was wrong.

“It’s just not very often I get to ask a philosopher for his thoughts, okay?” he chuckled.

He must’ve felt my dumbstruck staring, however, because he stopped himself. He straightened his back the best he could but his hand still trembled when he reached out to me to shake it.

“It really was nice to meet you, Dr. Reid,” he offered.

I was too frozen by the shock of how many mistaken assumptions I’d made in such a short period of time to respond. I glanced down at his hand and recalled a time where I was adamant that I wouldn’t shake a strangers hand.

That hadn’t been true anymore (thanks to my very supportive wife and therapist), but my daughter still recognized the ghost of hesitance.

One stern look from her made me spring into action.

His hand was warm and softer than mine. The only calluses were caused by a firm grip on a pencil rather than a gun. There was nothing worrisome about the way he tried to follow every instruction manual for handshaking.

He was, as my wife had put it, a sweet boy.

“It was very nice to meet you, too,” I returned. Then, knowing how much it would mean to them both, I smiled as I added, “I look forward to next time.”

Their responses were everything I had predicted, and it was entirely worth whatever germs might have been transferred.

The moment I turned my attention away from them, I watched from the corner of my eye as they excitedly squeezed each others hands until their whole bodies were bouncing.

“I’ll walk you to your car!” my not-so-little girl shouted.

It was less walking and more dragging until he managed to catch up to her.

The sight tugged once more at my heart. That strange feeling crept forward again and I tried to find its name as the front door clicked shut.

My wife swiftly ended the thought, however, by grabbing my hand and taking off towards the stairs.

“Come on!” she half-whispered between her tugging and my stumbling.

“Where are we going?!”

“We’re going to spy on them!” she now fully yelled, “Hurry up!”

In a fit of laughter and with our hands never breaking apart, we did just that. We booked it up to the master bedroom and—with the lights still off—my wife’s clever fingers pried apart the blinds just enough for us to peer through them.

The suburban summer night was almost quiet enough to hear them make their inevitably awkward goodbyes. The soft glow of carefully placed streetlights painted my daughter in an even more beautiful light, and I could tell the boy in front of her appreciated it for everything that it was.

Yet he turned away from her first, with his hand lingering in hers.

Somehow, I knew what would happen before it did. Sure enough, my daughter refused to let go. She used that hesitance to leave and pulled him right back to her and straight into a quick, chaste kiss.

And that was when I realized what that feeling had been. That lurid memory, the subtle glowing of my heart, was the familiarity of it all.

The scene unfolded like a home movie ripped straight from my memory.

In perfect synchrony with that epiphany, my wife released a dreamy sigh.

“Do you remember when that was us?” she asked.

“Yeah,” I laughed, “I do.”

I remembered it all with perfect clarity, despite how far away it had fallen. I dragged the memories back up with the same insistence that my wife had used to bring me to that moment.

I remembered the butterflies in my stomach and the anxiety of knowing that I was madly in love with a woman that was much too good for me. I also remembered how it felt to clamor back into my car and have to drive away from her with the taste of transferred lipgloss on my lips.

As the boy drove away, I felt a wave of relief ushered on by my wife’s comforting embrace.

“I think they’re going to be okay,” she whispered.

“Yeah. Me too,” I agreed.

We’d seen it happen before.

(Tell me what you thought about this fic here!)

Looking for more to read? Check out my CM Father's Day Rec List here! It has SFW and NSFW categories.

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avatarkv · 1 year

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IV ! Mom, am I still young? Can I dream for a few months more?

✎ Synopsis ! You've been thrusted to carry the burden of the eldest after his passing. ( First | Second | Third | Fourth | Fifth )

Content & warning Jake sully x Daughter!Reader, Sully kids x Sister!Reader Neytiri x Daughter!Reader. Mentions of death and violence! (wc; 4070)

Song: Class of 2013, Mitski.

A mother’s love is of all things.

“You start from here,” Her gentle hands moved across the cloth as she showed you how to make the first stitch, her voice encouraging as she patiently talked you through every step. You listened to her instructions, your tiny fingers following every gesture, but your mind drifted off to somewhere and Neytiri was well aware of that.

"Mama, how much longer will this take?" You whined, your lips pursed in a pout as you discarded the rag. It was taking far too long for your liking and you were more than ready to be finished, but your mother's stern gaze was enough to stay put.

“Until you finally get it.” She sighed, knowing well that you wanted nothing but to run to your father and Neteyam. Neytiri could see clearly that you wanted nothing more than to train with them, learning all that Jake had to teach, and while she was relieved that you were so eager, she couldn't help but feel a little left behind.

You furrowed your brow as you looked down at the mangled fabric in front of you, feeling frustration coursing through your veins. "I don't like sewing," You sighed quietly to yourself, trying to undo the mess of stitches and start again from scratch.

A mother’s love could be quite petulant. Neytiri could feel the insecurity settling at the pits of her stomach, thinking about how his mate was doing a much better job at parenting. She was never able to keep you in one place, always wriggling uneasily on your chair and asking for the time so you can go, so she was often left with no other choice than to give into your demands and watch as you ran away from her.

It was silly, you were just a child– what child wouldn't want to be outside where the world was theirs to explore?

With another sigh, Neytiri placed a hand to your shoulder in understandment. She gave you a gentle squeeze, “You know where your father is, go on.”

A mother’s love could be fiery– burning brightly like a wildfire in her heart. It was a force that drove her to do anything she could to ensure the wellbeing of her children, even if it meant making difficult decisions that brought pain to herself.

When you once came home, battered and bruised, of course she did not relent.

“What was the only thing I asked?” She carefully tended to your wounds, despite the frustrated tears streaming down your face. With a sigh of exhaustion, she reminded you in a rough whisper, “To be careful!”

“I don’t let you run off with your father and Neteyam for you to carelessly train yourself,” She continued to scold you, “Now look at you, do you know how long these bruises will heal?” you hung your head low in shame, not wanting to meet her angry gaze. You felt guilty for making her worry and were immediately overcome with remorse.

“For this, you are not allowed to train for two weeks,” She said sternly, “Not until these heal, you understand?”

“But mama,” You tried to change her mind, but the look she gave was enough to let you know that she wasn’t going to tolerate any argument on the matter. You begrudgingly nodded your head in agreement with a frown.

“I love you, ma’ite,” When you didn’t reply, her heart sank a little. She knew you would resent her for this while the duration of your punishment stretches on, but she was only looking out for you– besides, there was no way she was going to let you train all sore. You’d understand when you’re older.

Neytiri would do anything if it means everyone would be safe.

A mother’s love is of all things, but above all, the love she had rooted from no other else but her own children.

When you once came forward with a present, she was curious. It wasn’t like you didn’t lend any gifts at all, if anything, you were the most thoughtful with giving; always coming home with trinkets from your training, colorful beads from a lazy stroll, or even rocks with the weirdest of shapes. But you were most excited with this one, a smile growing every second as you waited for Neytiri to grab the wrapped box.

“What is this?” She had her eyebrow quirked up high in curiosity, a tiny smile fighting to stay suppressed.

“Open it, come on!” You squealed, trying hard not to open it yourself.

“You made this?” She said, looking at the well-made shawl– actually, it was messy. The stitches weren’t as straight and there were holes larger than the others, a few smaller, but the ornaments sewn between the threads were no doubt from you. To her, it was the most beautiful thing ever; it was from you.

“I did!” You beamed, chest puffing out proudly, “Well.. maybe I cheated a little. Grandmother helped me, but all the beads there are from me! See those?” You excitedly gestured to each and every trinket, going with great detail into how and where you got them. She asked questions along the way, marveling at how eager you were to tell her of your adventures.

While you were keen on your work, her eyes were only on you, listening intently.

“So.. do you like it?”

Neytiri burst into a fit of giggles as she embraced you tightly, her head resting against the little space on your neck. “I love it, Ma’ite– I love you.” she whispered softly.

You returned the hug, “Does this mean I’m done with sewing?”

“Don’t push it.”

It didn’t matter whether you were with Jake most of the time– she wanted to tell him how wrong he was to tell her you were a daddy’s girl. Neytiri received a shawl from you– a shawl. It’s safe to say that maybe you loved her a bit more than Jake.

While her love was indescribable, there were no exact words for her anguish too. When Neteyam died, it was nothing but loss. No mother should have to bury their child. It weighed heavily on her– so heavy, a piece of her died along with him. Neytiri felt it in every pore of her being, a dull ache that could never be filled no matter how much time passed.

Neteyam, her first born and first loss.

The same anguish was apparent on you too and she wasn’t blind to that fact.

You were carefully tending to the different herbs on the corner of your pod. You placed them in the mortar, crushing it with a pestle between your fingers and frowning with concentration. You had asked Neytiri if you could stay behind and help with chores and while she did need an extra pair of hands, it was also an excuse to get out from training for the day.

Neytiri knelt beside you, her grip on your hand preventing you from mashing the already mashed ingredients in the bowl. She looked into your eyes with genuine concern, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of your head. “What’s troubling you, ma’ite?” She asked softly. You sighed heavily in response while setting the bowl down slowly.

When you didn't answer, she asked again. “Neteyam?” Your breathing hitched and that was all the answer she needed.

“It’s been over a month already,” You started, unable to look at her, “I don’t wanna mourn anymore. I don’t wanna cry– Tuk, she,”

“I know. I heard.” You were struck with a wave of embarrassment as you abruptly turn to face her, realizing now that you weren't as silent as you had wished that night. You shook your head, trying to push down the shame.

“I’m the eldest now and she’s tougher than me, it’s really a slap on the face.”

Neytiri sits in front of you, taking both your hands in her own. She looks at you steadily with a piercing and gentle gaze, “Have you ever thought that maybe the reason why it isn’t letting you rest is because you haven’t mourned him properly?” Unable to process her words, you look up to her with a confused expression, beckoning her to continue. “All you have ever done is cry– blame yourself for what has happened. That is not mourning, you are simply wallowing in self-pity.”

“It’s not easy,” You quickly interject, shaking your head with a hint of frustration.

“And it’s not supposed to, but you’re here trying to stop yourself from feeling.” She soothes the skin of your hands with gentle rubs, trying to calm you down. “Have you ever visited him after what had happened?”

She was met with only silence and again, it was all the answer she needed. With a heavy sigh, Neytiri gently pulls you closer to her, “Ma’ite, maybe it’s time you talk to him. You aren’t letting his soul rest either,” She whispers, “You’re making him wait.”

“I’m sorry.” You murmur, burying your head into your mother's arms. Despite feeling a little embarrassed by the sudden display of emotion, you can't deny the comfort it brings. Neytiri holds onto you tightly, as if she too needed this moment just as much as you did.

After a few more minutes, she nudges you softly, “I’m going to get more herbs,” With another kiss to your temple, she squeezed your shoulders and stood up.

Neytiri’s words hit you hard– she was right. You have never put an effort to visit your brother, let alone talk to him. The realization was like a punch in the gut; while you were trying so hard to put as much space between you, Neteyam remained waiting.

You had to talk to him, had to tell him everything before your heart could hold no more. It didn’t matter if he was angry anymore, nor if he would have blamed you for what had happened. You missed your brother– missed him like a little kid.

You stood up, taking your woven satchel– but before you could take another step out the door, Jake enters with a disheveled Lo’ak behind; it was clear that he got into a fight, the bruises on his face and body was enough to tell. “What was the one thing I asked?” Jake asks, scanning the area to check if anyone had followed them, “The one thing!”

“Look, dad. Ao’nung was picking on Kiri,” Lo’ak defends himself, his shoulders slumped in defeat. “They called her a freak.”

“And you! Where were you? Weren’t you supposed to be training?” His tone is harsh and demanding, cutting off any chance to interject. Jake turns to you, livid, “I catch you over here slacking off while this knucklehead is giving them a passage to kick us off the island– Jesus Christ, you’re the eldest now!”

“I’m sorry, sir, this is my fault.” You replied, unable to meet his gaze. “I should’ve been keeping an eye on everyone.”

“Damn right. I catch a break for one second– one second!” He continued to berate and you could only hang your head low. “You’re supposed to be like Neteyam, but ever since we got here, all you’ve done is disappoint me. You disappoint me, __.”

“But I wasn’t just slacking, I was helping with–”

“I don’t wanna hear it.” He immediately turns back to Lo'ak. He badly wanted to come to your defense, but something about Jake's steely gaze made him think twice. His lips quiver as he struggles against the urge to speak, feeling frustrated. “Go apologize to Ao’nung.”

“It’s not fair, dad! They were–”

He quickly dismisses him like he did with you, “Go make peace. I don’t know how, just go.”

Lo’ak was the first to move, his footsteps heavy as he walked out. Before you followed, you glanced one last time at Jake, trying to look for any trace of remorse in his eyes. All you found was the same stoic expression. With a sigh, you trudged behind your brother.

Once you both were far enough from your Marui, you quickly grabbed Lo’ak’s wrist, stopping him from walking further. “Stay here,”

He gave you a perplexed look as you firmly held him, “I’m supposed to be making amends.”

“I’ll do it myself so for once, stay here and just do nothing.” Your mind was clouded, absolutely heavy from your father’s words. With another frustrated sigh, you let go of him. “What were you thinking?”

“What do you mean?” His tone was laced with a mixture of guilt and defiance, shoulders tense.

“You know damn well, Lo’ak.” The laugh that erupted from your mouth is menacing– mean. You grabbed his shoulders and spun him, forcing him to look at you. “You didn’t have to do that.”

He quickly shrugs your grasp away, his gaze downcast. Lo’ak couldn’t bear to even glance at you, not when you’re looking at him like that. It was so unlike you to be angry, usually you were the most patient– understanding. Right now, your eyes held nothing but exhaustion and it was like you were a different person yourself, morphing into someone he terribly misses.

God, he misses his brother. Now that he’s gone, things are a lot worse– he didn’t even know that it was possible to feel more alone. There was no one who’d put on an effort to cheer him up despite him royally fucking up, no one to mess with his hair, or to stand up for him. With Neteyam, he was sure he understood him so well– with Neteyam, he was still a child. Lo’ak swears he also died that night, heart buried along his back at home. His younger self has not stopped crying ever since, shouting at him, asking, “It’s our fault again, is it?”

“You would have done the same,” He tries to reply with the same fierceness, but his voice is breaking. “Maybe if you were there, you would have even thrown in a punch too–”

You spun him again irritatedly, “But I’m not like you. It’s different here, you understand?” Your voice was getting louder– growing absolutely desperate with every word. “You aren’t thinking!” That stunned the both of you and you couldn’t help but feel a nauseating deja-vu the moment it left your mouth. It was familiar, oh so familiar it hurt.

“What has gotten into you?” Before he could wait for a reply, you had already stormed off, leaving him right in the open.

It wasn’t hard to find Ao’nung, being the olo’eyktan’s son made him stand out easily. They were at the shore and unlike Lo’ak, you could see how they’ve gotten the end of the punches more badly. You tried not to visibly wince at the huge deep-purple bruise forming on his face and the others littered all over his body– yikes.

You knew he deserved this. Ao’nung wasn’t the kindest ever since you had seeked uturu so you couldn’t help but feel a sense of satisfaction. Despite this, he didn’t relent.

“I’ll forgive you once you are able to ride an Ilu,” he said, and his friends snickered from behind, “But you still can’t, right? What would father do if he hears that none of the Sullys’ had gone out to apologize.”

You clench your fists, digging your nails into your palms as they continue to ridicule you; you wanted to retaliate with the same harshness Lo’ak had, but you knew you had to keep composure. Oh Great Mother, the urge was strong. “All I have to do is ride an Ilu?”

“Don’t bother,.” He scoffed, harshly jabbing his fingers into your chest, “You’re funny if you think that I’ll ever save you again– it would be one less freak from the clan.” Everyone broke out into a fit of loud laughter, taking turns in mocking you.

“Consider us forgiven then.” You said firmly, pushing past them and marching towards the sea.

He called for you to stay back, but you couldn’t just stop now– not when you have already mounted your ilu. The salty ocean air filled your lungs as you surveyed the horizon, the waves crashed on the rocks and it was evident that the water was fiercer. It should’ve been enough sign for you to pocket your pride and relent.

As you made the bond, you embraced the creature, trying to steady your breathing. “Just this once, please? Please, please. Save me from embarrassment.”

It was a foolish decision to act out of spite, especially after you had been trying for well over a month with no success. You knew there was little chance that this time would be any different, but the impulse drove you forward and you just couldn't let go. As the ilu surged ahead with reckless abandon, you held on more desperately than before.

You were struggling to keep the creature in check. The strong waves made it even more challenging to stay on top of the situation, but you pushed ahead determinedly with an iron grip that was sure to leave your hands sore. Suddenly, your hard work seemed to pay off as the ilu started slowing down under your control, enough that you could relax a little.

As you emerged from the water, you couldn’t help the shout escaping your throat as the other’s stood ready near their own ilus. Whether the smirk from Ao’nung’s face was of disbelief or if he had been genuinely impressed didn’t matter to you, all you could feel was a surge of pride burning through your skin. You flipped him off, peppering your ilu with much deserved kisses.

“Come on, let’s go further,” You talked to her, encouraging her to keep moving forward, where she replied with an eager yip.

You were absolutely thrilled– it had been a grueling month and the anticipation was nearly too much to bear. The thought of finally riding an ilu was almost too exciting for words. Although you preferred the forest, you’d be a big fat liar if you denied the beauty of Awa’atlu. You’ve been dying to explore– you felt like a kid again.

As you continued to ride forward, with not a thought in mind, you would not have expected to be found so easily.

It was almost night time and everyone was getting ready for dinner inside. Jake waited at the entrance of the Marui, sharpening his dagger as he waited for you. He glanced around impatiently as he tried to ignore the spiraling uneasiness in his stomach.

“It’s getting cold, ma Jake.” Neytiri called for him, rubbing his back soothingly. “Wait for her inside, she’s probably on her way home.” She had noticed how anxious he was growing as the sun started to set and the dark night began to creep closer. It was even more obvious when he hadn't moved from his spot in front for hours already, frown deepening.

“I failed as a father, Neytiri,” His voice emerged from his throat, strained and raw. He had done all he could, but it seemed that his luck had truly run out. Now that he faced the truth of his failures, he was filled with bitter regret and a deep sadness for what could have been– of what he had to lose. “I look at them and I feel like I’ve already lost everyone.”

Neytiri kneeled beside him, curling her arms around him in a comforting embrace. “You only did what you thought was best,” she whispered softly.

“And yet, I managed to make things worse.”

“Just talk to them, ma Jake,” She gave him a stern look, squeezing his shoulders, “It hasn’t been easy for them either.”

“I know that, but–” The crackling of the line made Jake wince, but he could make out his daughter's voice beneath the static from the other line, and the urgency in your voice made his body jolt– a familiar dread that brought him back to that fateful night when you desperately called out for Neteyam.

“Can someone hear me?”

The searing heat was unbearable, even when you were surrounded by nothing but water, it scorched your skin the same. The village was rising from the ashes of an unforgiving fire, the island surrounded by familiar ships. Your eyes mirrored the flames that engulfed the area and you were unable to look away— unable to move.

Your fingers frantically felt for the device tucked on your ear, pressing on its button, hoping someone would answer– pride be damned, you even hope that it would be your father.

He stood up, instinctively grabbing the gun from his side, “__? What’s wrong, baby girl? Talk to me.”

“Dad, Sir, a village!” Your voice nearly drowned out, inaudible from the deafening sound of waves thrashing towards you and your ilu. You were holding onto her for dear life as the salty water stung at your eyes, blurring your vision, “A village is on fire!”

“What? Where are you?”

Neytiri stood sharply beside him, her eyes wide with fear as she desperately tried to hear your voice from the intercom. “Jake, what’s happening? Where is she?”

“I don’t know– I don’t know! I rode my Ilu too far. Dad, there are ships! Sky-people ships, plenty!” You spoke rapidly, your words tumbling out of your mouth faster and faster as the panic built up inside of you. You were becoming increasingly anxious, with every passing second more fearful than the last. “They’re here sir, they found us.”

Jake’s heart plummeted there and then.

“They’re hurting them– they have them at gunpoint, what do I do?” You continued to hurriedly talk, explaining the severity of the situation. It was nauseatingly terrifying, a sickening sensation that had taken root in his stomach and clouded his mind with nothing but overwhelming fear. “I– I have to do something, anything! Please, tell me what to do.”

“Listen to me, listen to Sempu alright?” His voice is gravelly, like he hasn't been able to catch a breath in what feels like days. Jake was desperate as he wanted to tell you this wasn’t about you proving yourself anymore, acting on behalf of your brother’s loss. This was solely about him wanting his sweet daughter back, safe and sound. “Don’t look at them, for the love of– please, get out of there now.”

“But dad, I–”

“I need you back here, please baby girl, please.”

However, you and him did not stand on the same ground, hearts paced on different pages. All you saw were the people; their safety and well-being had to come first and foremost. You had to save them, had to do something to avert the danger. They were innocent and above all, helpless.

To Jake, all he could think was of you, his sweet daughter, caught in a wildfire.

“This is an order, __. Turn back now,” It was the only thing he could do, instill authority in hopes it would make you deter. “I’ll alert Tonowari of the situation. It’s not a good idea to barge into face-first and vulnerable, you hear me? What are you gonna do with all their guns and people? Turn back. Now.”

And it worked. Only now were you able to let out the breath you kept for so long, finally averting your gaze and looking down in shame. “I hear you, sir, I’m,” With one last look, you gulped. “I’m heading back.”

“Good. Don’t let them see you.”

As you reconnected with the Ilu, you pleaded it to take the lead and guide them both back home. You could feel her emotions racing through your veins, her fear undeniable as she witnessed others of her kind slaughtered mercilessly by the shoreline. The bond between you was overwhelming and unsteady, so much that it almost took all your energy just to keep yourself from dissociating from her.

Before you could submerge below the safety of the waters again, your ilu begins to bellow loudly in distress. Its body thrashes around, making it hard for you to hold on. “Mawey, mawey!”

More static could be heard from Jake’s intercom, the noise turning more and more deafening. He tried to make out anything from the sound, but all he could hear was white noise. You called out for him one last time, before the pager turned off.

“Jake, please, where’s my daughter?”

When Neytiri lost her eldest, she didn’t think she’d lose another one so soon.

☆ mauve here! this was such a pain in the ass to finish, so hopefully i did this chapter justice !!!! i would love to interact w everyone here, so please don't hesitate to drop by my asks! i also accept requests <3 i would very much appreciate it. lots of love!

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#mauve writes ☆#family angst #sully family x sister!reader #jake sully x daughter!reader #neytiri x daughter!reader #neteyam x sister!reader #lo'ak x sister!reader #kiri x sister!reader #tuk x sister!reader #angst #avatar #avatar 2009 #avatar the way of water #neteyam brainrot #neteyam te suli tsyeyk'itan #jake sully #reader!sully

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ozai-the-bonsai · 6 months

Text

Cry for the Moon

Pairing: Zuko x firebender!reader

Warnings: a few sprinkles of strong language i guess

A/N: I am really happy that you have enjoyed the first chapter! The updates may be generally slow, depending on how much free time I have (mainly at night). I hope this doesn't upset anyone ^.^

Taglist: @annonymatic @yoongiesstar @lost-inthe-v0id @lokigodofmyheart @4l3x1s @potato87123 @asciendo @angelruinz @unamused-boss

Fixing the golden sash of your crimson robes, you leant the railings of the ship, your amber eyes focused on Azula. After verbally making the captain regret the day he was born, the Princess had moved onto her training. Not that she needed any more of it – you were sure that there was little to none she could improve further in her skills and techniques; however, Azula tended to get quite difficult when you shared this particular opinion with her. Hence, you kept your thoughts to yourself and watched the Princess train.

As Azula’s advisors, Lo and Li were there as well. Even the thought of having to interact with the sisters brought you on the verge of throwing out – you despised them both dearly for you could see how their so-called advisory was corrupting Azula day by day ever since Ursa left. Of course, your feelings were mutual. Lo and Li didn’t approve of you being tender to Azula, of you taking care of her as if she was your responsibility; however, they knew very well how good of an ally you were to the Princess, which didn’t allow them to speak ill of you.

Azula stood perfectly straight, holding her fingers in her hand. Then, she started to move her arms in a circular motion to generate lightning. Once the bolt was ready, she fired it into the sky.

“Almost perfect.” Lo said.

“One hair out of place.” Li finished her sister’s word.

You didn’t hide the way you rolled your eyes.

In an aggressive way, Azula pushed away that loose strand of hair away. “Almost isn’t good enough!” She wasn’t pleased with herself, leading her to generate lighting once more and fire it off into the distance.

Sending a warning look at the old women, you walked towards your best friend. “Have I told you before how much I admire the way you use lightning?” You told her with a warm smile on your lips. The strong wind of the open sea was messing with your hair which was already put in a neat top knot. “Perhaps these moments are the most that make me envy you.”

Azula shook her head. “As long as it is not perfect, it doesn’t matter how much you admire the way I use it.”

Over the years, you have learnt to be patient with Azula – it was very much like dealing with a broken child, one needed to hit the right notes at the right time. “Sweetheart, it is perfect.” You insisted, keeping your tone soft and tender. “You have never seen the way your posture stays still even though such powerful energy is using your whole body as a pathway. And you certainly don’t know how magnificent it seems when one gets to see the reflection of your own lightning in your own eyes.” You could see the edge of Azula’s lips curling upwards. “It is terrifying – yes, but it is quite hot, too.”

You had to be careful when you wanted to compliment Azula – she didn’t like it when someone complimented her just for the sake of flattery. You had to mean it and the chosen timing had to be precise – just like now. Her technique was excellent, she could generate lightning with little to no difficulties. At such a moment, further criticising her would only contribute to Azula’s already damaged inner self.

Sometimes, the little girl in her just needed to hear some genuine compliments coming from the heart.

Winking at the smiling princess, you started heading to the kitchen. “I am going to make tea – would you like some as well?”

Azula shook her head as a frown formed on her face. “You and your tea obsession sometimes remind me of Uncle Iroh,” she muttered with an annoyed tone. “And I don’t like it.”

You shrugged indifferently. “I love tea – you should learn to love me like that.”

In fact, it was indeed Iroh who was responsible for your appetite for tea.

[Time Skip]

You stood behind the Princess, as if you wanted to melt into the shadows. Upon reaching land and finding the Banished Prince’s place of stay, Azula insisted you accompanied her during her first encounter with Zuko after three long years. Of course, for you, it too was going to be first time seeing Zuko after all these years. On the way, you gave it your best to tune down your shivering. It wasn’t because you were cold – if that were the case, your breath of fire could get rid of the shivering – no, it was because you were too nervous to look into Zuko’s amber eyes one again.

When Iroh and Zuko came back to their place of stay, Iron placed several seashells onto the table, failing to notice you and Azula at first sight. “Look at these magnificent shells!” Iroh said enthusiastically as he held up a shell. “I’ll enjoy these keepsakes for years to come!”

Zuko was in simple, grey robes with red stripes on the edges. After losing the Agni Kai against his father, he had shaved most of his hair but hadn’t touched the top knot – just like every other person would do in the Fire Nation. “We don’t need any more useless things! You forget, we have to carry everything ourselves now!”

His temper has got only worse as it seems, you thought with an arched brow. Just like a hurt animal, he is barking at everyone around him.

Iroh and Zuko both turned their look to the table as Azula spoke calmly from the corner. “Hello, brother. Uncle.”

For a brief moment, time seemed to freeze as your amber eyes met that of Zuko’s. You tried to understand what he was feeling from the look in his eyes but instead, you found yourself being carried to a distant memory from long, long ago.

“I will be back before you know it,” Zuko said as he cupped your face – his face wasn’t healed so he had his left eye covered. “I don’t want to see you wasting your tears because of it.”

“Please, Zuko.” You muttered between your sobs. “Let me come with you!”

Hearing Zuko silently speaking your name made you come back to the present moment. Without speaking to him, you nodded at his direction and then placed your right hand on Azula’s shoulder. Upon seeing the emptiness in your eyes when they were set onto him, the longing expression on Zuko’s face disappeared, leaving its place to anger.

Using anger to drown everything else he might feel – he is going to regret this but it will then be too late.

“What are you doing here?” Zuko asked Azula with an angry tone.

Azula held up a shell in her hand. “In my country, we exchange a pleasant hello before asking questions.” She spoke with a sarcastic tone, causing the edge of your lips to curl upwards. Right now, you found yourself enjoying how Azula toyed with her prey.

Three years ago, you wouldn’t think twice as you interrupted during such a moment.

However, the only bit of affection you felt at the present moment was towards Azula and no one else in that room.

Azula stood up from the chair and walked towards Zuko and Iroh. “Have you become uncivilised so soon, Zuzu?”

“Don’t call me that!” Zuko glared at Azula.

Iroh was trying to establish a calmer environment. “To what do we owe this honour?” He asked with a clearly upset tone.

“Hmmm... must be a family trait. Both of you so quick to get to the point.” Azula said as if she wasn’t related to them both at all, which raised an urge to raise an eyebrow at her but you kept it to yourself. Azula broke the shell she was holding. “We have brought a message from home.”

You started walking towards the princess with small steps as you talked. “The Fire Lord has heard rumours of plans to overthrow him and thus, he has changed his mind.”

Azula nodded, taking the word from you. The two of you carried out this play as if it were a theatre piece. “Family is suddenly very important to him, being the only ones you can really trust.” Waiting for a reaction from the Banished Prince, Azula paused briefly. “Father regrets your banishment. He wants you home.” Upon not receiving any feedback, a frown appeared on her beautiful face. “Did you hear me? You should be happy. Excited. Grateful. I just gave you great news.”

Iroh responded instead of Zuko, which was apparently enough to irritate Azula. “I’m sure your brother simply needs a moment.”

“Don’t interrupt, Uncle!” Azula got loud furiously. You placed your hand on the small of her back gently, which caused Azula to turn her piercing glare to you.

“Azula, please, you are better than this.” You spoke with a soft tone, which seemed to baffle Iroh to a great extent. Little did you notice the shock inside Zuko’s eyes turn to longing and jealousy. “Controlling your temper should be a simple walk in the park for someone like you.”

Azula gave you a small nod as the fury in her amber eyes lessened slowly. Taking a deep breath, she turned to face her brother. “I still haven't heard my thank you.” She spoke with an annoyed tone. “I'm not a messenger. I didn't have to come all this way.”

Finally managing to look away from you, Zuko shook himself and then started stuttering. “Father regrets? He ... wants me back?”

“We see that you both need time to take this in, don’t we, Princess?” You asked as you looked at Azula from the corner of your eye. She nodded at you. “We will come to call on you tomorrow. Good evening.”

Zuko kept looking behind you even long after you and Azula left their place of stay.

[Zuko’s POV]

The turmoil he felt within was about to drive him mad.

He didn’t know what he needed to reflect on: the fact that his father finally wanted him back after three long years, how his great failure at the North had hurt his pride or the way her amber eyes didn’t shine with love anymore.

Of course, he had spent sleepless nights ever since he was banished, thinking about what she was doing without him, how she was going to welcome him the next time they met, whether she has already moved on…

Zuko knew it would be foolish to hope for her to have stayed at the same place he had left her; however, he couldn’t have been ready for the coldness and emptiness in her eyes. For all his life, those amber eyes would shine the moment they saw him. Her memory had always brought Zuko nothing but warmth and peace. Until today.

It was obvious that the way he left her had scarred her in a way Zuko hadn’t anticipated. It felt like she had ripped that special place in her heart – where their memories, their affection for one another would rest – and burnt it into ashes.

However, she was still capable of showing affection, showing compassion. It wasn’t entirely gone – no, there just wasn’t anything left for Zuko anymore. For Azula, on the other hand… Oh, the Banished Prince didn’t remember being surrounded by that green could of jealousy before. It tasted bitter and it left one longing – longing to be shown the love he was once oh so used to feel.

I want it back, Zuko thought as he sat on the hill, watching the sun go down, colouring the sky in its crimson shades. I want her to look at me the way she looks at my sister. I hate the coldness in her voice. We were meant for each other!

Deep down, he knew very well it was all his fault but he wasn’t ready to admit the truth just yet. It was there, a silent scream, reminding him of every terrible thing he had done that day, he had said that day. Deep down, he understood the reason behind her coldness, behind the distance, behind the lost feelings…

The truth, however, was more bitter than the jealousy. He couldn’t admit it, he couldn’t accept that he was alone responsible for losing her.

Zuko shook himself. No, I haven’t lost her. Not yet. Slowly, he stood up, ready to head back to the hut. Once I am given my rightful place – by my father’s side – I will make it up to her. It was promised that she will, one day, be the wife of the future Fire Lord. I intend to keep my part of the promise.

[Time Skip]

“I told you they would come,” Azula muttered under her breath, keeping her voice to a minimum as you both stood on top of the ramp leading up to the ship.

“I must admit, I am disappointed.” You spoke with an equally low voice. Your eyes followed the Banished Prince as he and Iroh approached the ship. “I would have expected Zuko to be smarter than that.”

You could tell that Azula gave it all not to roll her eyes at your remark. “Oh, please – as if you don’t know my brother at all.”

As Zuko and Iroh walked up the ramp, procession guards stood on either side of them, forming an aisle. You realised that Iroh seemed rather suspicious as he averted his eyes between guards – he probably knew very well that they both were walking into a trap.

The guards closed the aisle when Iroh and Zuko reached the ship. “Brother! Uncle! Welcome! I'm so glad you decided to come.” Azula spoke, keeping up her façade perfectly. You simply nodded at them. For a brief moment, your eyes met that of Zuko’s – he didn’t even try to hide the longing reflecting through his amber eyes. However, you couldn’t risk being distracted, hence you quickly turned your eyes away, keeping up the strict face.

“Are we ready to depart, Your Highness?” The captain asked Azula.

The Princess nodded with a sweet smile on her face – you didn’t remember Azula showing such a smile with an audience. “Set our course for home, captain.”

The urge to smirk was too strong, you had to try quite hard to keep it to yourself. She does know how to play, you thought as you fixed your eyes on Azula. I love it.

“You heard the princess!” The captain shouted to the crew. “Raise the anchors! We are taking the prisoners home!”

It didn’t even take a second for you to turn to the captain with a sharp look on your face, your beautiful features being darkened by the fury raising within you. You idiot! You had only one damn job to do – one single thing!

The captain widened his eyes in realisation at his mistake as he looked at Azula; Zuko and Iroh were taken by surprise. Azula, on the other hand, carried the same fury inhabiting your face. You knew that if it weren’t for the importance of keeping the prisoners on board without letting them escape, Azula would have already chopped off the captain’s tongue.

“Your Highness, I …” The captain stuttered nervously but he quickly lost his spotlight as Iroh started to send fire blasts at the guards. Zuko threw the captain off into the water, stomping furiously towards Azula and you.

“You lied to me!” Zuko shouted at Azula, angrily.

Azula smirked. “Like I have never done that before.” The Princess held you from your arm as you both walked away, leaving the Banished Prince behind. You were confused as to what Azula’s plan exactly was but it seemed like she trusted the guards to capture him.

“Azula,” you spoke with a low but strong voice. “The guards won’t be able to hold them back. Don’t underestimate your enemy.”

“Ah, please,” Azula’s voice was overmuch condescending. “It’s Zuzu we are talking about.”

Before you could start lecturing Azula, you both turned back upon hearing Zuko blasting off two guards off the ship. He charged at the two of you with fire draggers in his hands but you could easily tell that his main goal was to reach Azula.

Iroh shouted at Zuko, telling him to leave the ship, but Zuko being himself, completely ignored the only sane thing to do at that very moment. The edge of your lip curled upwards as Azula easily dodged all of Zuko’s attacks – you didn’t even have to intervene.

“You know, Father blames Uncle for the loss of the North Pole. And he considers you a miserable failure for not finding the Avatar!” Azula talked as Zuko panted for air and for the first time since the previous day, Zuko was seeing the true face of his sister. “Why would he want you back home, except to lock you up where you can no longer embarrass him?”

Zuko conjured up two fire daggers again and leapt into the air, sending a powerful fire blast at Azula. You extended your arms forwards, palms resting against each other as you jumped in front of the fire blast. The flames went by you, losing their strength as your body acted like a shield between the siblings, protecting Azula from the flames.

As the smoke drifted away, Zuko’s eyes widened with shock and disappointment when he saw you standing there. Taking a deep breath to disconnect your emotions from your actions, you punched forward a wave of flames. At first, it seemed like Zuko was frozen in his place, unable to move as your flames flew at his direction, getting closer by the second.

Then, at the last moment, the Banished Prince rolled to the side. He wasn’t even capable of dodging the attack. Not because he was too weak – he was anything but weak – no, it was because he had never known this you before. He didn’t know what to do.

You had never let your flames get this close to him before – even back then, when everything was different.

“You always go too easy on me!” Zuko protested as he helped you to your feet. “I have seen you regret others the day they were born while training – why do you always hold back when it is just the two of us?”

A small smile formed on your lips as you walked towards the table to grab a bottle of water. “Zuko, do you truly believe that you will have to fight me someday?” You asked and paused for a moment to drink the water. “I mean like out there, in the world.”

“Of course not!” Zuko answered without even thinking about it. “You… Why would I have to fight my future wife?”

“See, this is exactly why I use different methods.” You said as you took small steps towards Zuko, who had a confused expression on his face. “With others, I have to show them what awaits them if they dare cross me someday. But with you, I can simply focus on the training.”

Slowly, you cupped Zuko’s face, standing on your fingertips, and placed a small kiss on his lips. The Banished Prince carried the hints of pink on his cheeks. “Since you won’t ever get to stand on the other side of my flames, you have nothing to worry about.” Zuko wasn’t able to hide his smile. “I will always be by your side.”

You felt as if you shared the same flashback with Zuko – time seemed to freeze around the both of you. Memories from a distant past started to flow in front of your eyes. However, this shared state didn’t last as you were both drawn back to reality with Azula, shooting fire towards Zuko.

For a split second, you felt the urge to jump between Zuko and the blue flames but it disappeared as quickly as it came.

Zuko jumped to his feet and continued to duel Azula, the two eventually making their way up the stairway leading to the central control area of the ship. Before you could follow them up, Azula knocked Zuko to his feet with a blue fire blast, the Banished Prince landing roughly at the bottom of the stairwell.

Your eyes widened as you realised Azula was getting ready to generate lightning. However, you knew very well where you loyalties lied; hence, you took another deep breath to let the chains of the feelings go away. With enough attention, anyone could see the hints of humanity leaving your amber eyes.

Azula moved her arms in a circular motion, generating the lightning to fire the bolt at her brother.

Suddenly, Iroh stepped in – you didn’t even notice him going up there – and grabbed a hold of Azula’s right hand as if he could take away the lightning. Your eyes widened with shock when you saw Iroh literally redirecting the lightning, causing it to strike a far-off cliff side.

Holy shit, you thought to yourself, your mouth wide open. Iroh redirected the fucking lighting! I didn’t even know such a technique existed in the first place! Oh, I would give up everything to learn that!

Well, maybe not everything but a significant amount.

Admiration left your body when Iroh kicked Azula off the ship. “Azula!” You shouted and jumped after her into the water, without even thinking about staying on board to at least hinder Zuko from escaping. When it came to Azula, you tended to let go off everything just to be sure she was safe.

“The royal guards are nothing but weights,” Azula spoke angrily after arriving the shore. Quickly, she used her firebending to dry off herself. “Unnecessary weight needs to be gone.”

You raised an eyebrow at her while using the same technique, hot steam was radiating off your body. “What do you have in mind?”

Azula smirked, her clothes were already completely dry. “We will be paying some old friends a visit.”

As you followed her to the ship, you couldn’t help yourself but roll your eyes. “So I won’t get to see my boy for a while, eh?”

“Your dog,” Azula put an emphasis on the word dog while speaking, causing you to roll your eyes for the second time “could have made it to my list of useful people if he had used some of his time for training instead of fooling around.”

“No wonder he is intimidated by you.” You muttered under your breath. “Well, anyway – who are these old friends?”

#prince zuko #atla zuko #zuko x reader #the last airbender #avatar the last airbender #princess azula #zuko #zuko x oc

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midnightarcheress · 6 months

Text

Simon lives up to the nickname.

pairing: bodyguard!ghost x actress!reader 2 | gold rush masterlist.

every time you set a foot out of the house, he’s there. surely, a few steps behind, just like the orders say, but he’s there, hauntingly following you like a true ghost. lurking in the darkness or making himself known in broad daylight, he takes the job seriously, glaring at the people on the street who even dare to glance at you. it’s even worse when fans stop you for an autograph or a picture, towering by your side and meticulously watching every move made in your direction, getting ready to pounce at any minute.

the first few days were weird. he could sense how disconcerted you acted in his presence, even while flashing him a smile and saying a sugary ‘good morning’. maybe it was his size, maybe it was the mask, maybe it was the fact that a man was actively following you nearly every second of the day. the last thing he wanted was to frighten you.

after a few weeks though, he noticed you getting accustomed to his company. he watched from behind how your back wasn't as tense, how you stopped glancing over your shoulder to check if he was still there, how you weren’t jumping anymore when he’d get closer, how you even tried to make small talk, despite his grunt-like answers.

Simon didn’t want to admit it, but he couldn’t have been more wrong about you. you weren’t a pretentious rich brat as he expected. you were always polite, always smiling, always treating everyone in your way with nothing but kindness, something he wasn’t used to seeing. he reasoned that it was just your job as a very public person, after all, you had an image to uphold and he’d never actually seen you without the constant risk of being photographed and blasted online.

but in that moment, he couldn’t help the genuine concern for your safety starting to fill his chest and surpass the mere contract bond. he would catch himself staring at you for a little too long as you walked together, eyes attentively chasing the sway of your hips in each movement of your legs, the delicate way your finger held a pen whilst signing your name, your beaming irises whenever a child recognized you. he couldn’t bear the idea of being acknowledged on the street for his acts like you do.

“just ignore them.” you say, looking over your shoulder and noticing him stopping on his tracks on the pavement. for Simon, dealing with the paparazzi has been the most difficult part. military training comes in both an advantage and disadvantage, as his sniper eyes bust them from a mile away, spotting the greedy lens with intense precision, no matter how well-hidden they think they are. but the hard task is to keep his anger and itch to rip the camera apart at bay, when all they want is to snap you in bad light and sell it to the first rubbish magazine.

he grumbles, muttering cuss words under his breath. “you’ll get used to it.” the sympathetic tone of your voice eases a bit of his annoyance, going back into walking right behind you.

the smell of freshly brewed coffee fills his nostrils as he opens the door of a small cafe for you to come in, rapidly scanning the room for threats. at that point, he already had your order memorised by heart. medium iced americano, no sugar. too bitter of an option for someone who looked so sweet, despite being accompanied by whatever muffin the store had left.

“Ghost?”

his crossed arms tense up when you call for him, brows knitting together as he assesses the situation for any problem that may have appeared in the seconds he stood distracted by the waving of your hair under the air conditioning breeze. “mhm? what is it?”

“i asked you if you want anything.”

his knee-jerk reaction is to say a hasty no, thanks, but he’s finding it harder and harder to deny your offerings each day, when the small curve of your lips as you patiently wait for his response is so tempting. think faster. “uh, guess i could go for a tea. earl grey.”

you nod and hand the barista your card, quickly paying for the order and standing by the counter. he remains a few steps back, waiting for the drinks with you. as soon as it’s ready, you hand him the cup of tea, fingers gently grazing over his, sending lightning sparks on his skin. keep to yourself, Simon.

he shakes the feeling away and opens the door again, catching your eyes flicking to the silver pendant around his neck. once again, old habits die hard. he still wears his dog tags, the glinting metal serving as a constant reminder that he’s Simon Riley civilian, but will always be Simon Riley soldier.

“military?” you question, stepping back to match his pace and walk by his side, curious eyes searching for his hardened gaze.

“yes.” his voice is sharp, settled in not prolonging the conversation.

you hum, turning your head back to the horizon, “that explains your skill set.” only then he shifts to see your face, raised eyebrows and question marks oozing out of his head. you chuckle, amused by his confused expression, “i got a file on you too, Simon.”

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alewritesfics · 1 year

Text

Love me again, please

Pairing: Anthony Bridgerton x Fem!reader

Word count: 5.6k

Summary: After a few years, you cross paths with the last person you ever wanted to

Warning: I do not know where I was going with this story at the end so I apologize if it is a little over the place but you all get the gist.

A/n: I'm also posting after months of posting nothing. Very sorry about that but well, I lost the motivation to write, with that being said, Serendipity is on hold for the moment. I have the story planned out but I have no idea what else to write so the main scenes may connect in the end. So I'll be taking my time writing that. Also, I have no posting schedule because I know I won't follow through with it so I'll be posting when motivation hits and I have a fic finished. Lots of love to everyone who takes the time to read this xx.

Forgiveness.

An action that is difficult for human beings to execute. We live in a world that in which resentment , anger and revenge win over anything else. We let ourselves be carried away by the teeth of hatred, that we never take into account that action.

Forgiveness brings us peace and it brings happiness because not only are you forgiving the other person, you are forgiving yourself. Forgiveness is the biggest act of love in this world, and we just have made it complicated.

Although as much as you preach for people to forgive, you yourself, haven’t got it in you to forgive that one person that wronged you so many years ago.

Oh, how you hated him.

The one person that made you fall in love with him, that made you question your morals and break your dignity, allowing yourself to be used as if you were a prostitute from one of the brothels downtown.

He promised you his love, whispered sweet noothings in your ear as he made love to you late in the evenings, when everyone was asleep, telling you to give him more time so he could sort out a few things before making you his wife.

Oh, how you hated him.

Like a fool, you believed everything he promised you, hope blooming inside you at his words, that was all you wished for, to become his wife. But for the meantime, you were happy being his mistress.

If the only way to be with him until he sorted everything out was by being his mistress, hiding in the shadows, where no one was watching, you would take it, you would give yourself to him.

Oh, how you hated him.

That is, until one day, he left you without any word.

He came to your room one evening, you were patiently waiting for him, readying yourself for what you thought would be another night of pleasure.

That is until he arrived and broke your heart.

Told you how he could not be with you anymore and that he would not be coming to your room anymore. When you kept on pleading with him not to leave you, that is when he changed to saying cruel, cruel things.

Like how did you ever believe he would actually marry you, and that he was only with you for the pleasure filled nights you provided, that you were just an easy prey, foolishly believing everything he said. Those words succeeding even further on breaking your heart.

Oh, how you hate – loathe him.

Oh, how you loathed him

Oh, how you really really loathed him

Oh………

how you wished you actually loathed or even hated him.

Because that is the truth, no matter how much he hurt you, no matter how the words he carelessly threw at you engraved themselves deeply inside you, how he completely broke you, even then, you still could not find it in yourself to hate him.

“Your grace?” you snapped out of your thoughts, turning your head to the side, looking at the footman questioningly “We are here, your grace”

You thanked him quietly before looking down at the toddler sleeping on your chest, brushing the hair that was covering her face away, caressing her chubby cheeks.

“Love,” you murmured stroking her head lovingly. Little Amelia moved, shaking her head before burying herself further into your chest “It is time to wake up, darling. Were you not excited to see grandmamma and grandpapa? What about your cousins, Charles and Elizabeth? You were delighted that you were going to be able to play with them”

She instantly sat up, rubbing away the sleep from her eyes “Oh! Charlie and Lizzie! Mama!” she squealed, suddenly very energetic “They said they would show me toys their mama and papa brought them” She clapped her hands and hastily exited the carriage once the footman opened the door.

“Careful” you called out after her, grabbing the blankets you previously set out for her to sleep more comfortably

“Amy!” you could hear your mother’s voice exclaim as you put your feet on the floor and looked around “Oh, look how big you’ve gotten sweet girl!”

“And so beautiful too, just as beautiful as her mother” your papa added happily, bringing you into a hug

“mama, papa, it is so nice to see you” You greeted happily returning the hug before pulling back “has Ed and Ellie arrived? Amy cannot wait to play with Charlie and Lizzie” you ask

“Oh! Yes, they are just inside, come on Amy, let us go see your aunt and uncle” your mama urged grabbing on to your daughter’s little hand, your father offered his hand to you which you rejected, shaking your head

“You three go on ahead, I just want to breathe in a little bit of fresh air, those few hours in the carriage made me a little nauseous” you breathed out, they nodded before walking away and leaving you alone. You sighed, turning to look you at the sky, letting the sun soak into your skin.

It is crazy how fast time passes. It seems like it was just yesterday when you got your heart broken. It seems like it was just yesterday when after getting your heart broken, you decided to move on away from him and instead marry a dear friend of yours.

Jacob Thornwell was his name, the duke of Rosehill, you had met him through your brother as they had gone to Eton together and you become close friends, close enough to marry each other. It wasn’t a marriage out of love but you both cared deeply and respected each other. What more could you have asked for?

You married him because you were heartbroken and wanted to move on and not give that person the satisfaction of seeing you broken, and Jacob married you to escape his family’s complaints.

After a week of mourning over your lost love, you went to him and proposed the idea, he accepted and soon after you married. You were happy, or at least the most happy you could be after getting your heart broken, but everything changed when a few months later, you had little Amelia.

Your world changed after that day, after you held your sweet babe in your arms, after she opened her eyes, those eyes she inherited from her father. And when her little lips formed into a small smile, you knew you would do anything for your daughter, she was now the most important person in the whole world and you would protect her against everything.

You let out a deep breath closing your eyes, after a few moments opening them once again, you turned your head to the side, your body filling with dread when you saw a familiar person looking back at you from across the street.

Your heart started to race when he opened his mouth to say something starting to cross the street , you turned on your heel and entered your parent’s home, not letting him even say anything. You close the front door loudly and lean your body against it, holding your hands close to your chest, willing your heart to slow down.

“Y/n?” You hear your mama’s voice speak up, you turn to look at her, mustering up a smile “Are you alright, dear?”

“Yes, yes I am” you breathed out “I just thought I saw a bug, you know how I get when I see one” you let out a fake laugh, giving a shudder as If you were disgusted to make it more believable

Your mama nodded her head, not quite believing you but deciding to let it go “Of course” She then gestured to the drawing room “Come on now, your brother is anxious to see you” you now smile genuinely before following behind her

After greeting your brother, you were seated on a couch, looking at your daughter and her cousins playing happily in the middle of the room, a smile laying on your face, although that smile faded once you remembered your brief interaction, if you could even call it that, with that man across the street.

How dare he? How dare he look at you as if he was shocked you were in front of him, as if you were the one who had broken his heart and cut all contact with him after, how dare he even try to approach you after everything he did..... after everything he said?

What you would have given to know how he had felt in that moment. That moment when your heart was cracking into a million pieces, that moment where you were crying out for him not to go because you needed him. You wondered how he felt. Did it even hurt him as much as it hurt you? Did he feel that painful tug in his chest or the lump in his throat like you did? Did he even love you as much as you loved him?

You curse the day you met Anthony Bridgerton.

That man was your ruin.

You take it back.

You curse the moment you let your mama convince you to go to the ball Lady Bridgerton was hosting.

Not only because you had to leave Amy at home but because there was also a 50 percent chance that you could encounter Anthony Bridgerton at any given moment, and that was the last thing you wanted to do tonight.

“Fancy seeing you tonight” someone spoke up beside you, you look up, coming face to face with the last person you wanted to see.

Oh, just your luck.

“Lord Bridgerton” You uttered looking back at the couples dancing in the middle of the room

“Miss Y/n – oh, my apologies, I forgot you are now the duchess of Rosehill” he muttered unapologetic “Your grace,” he said sarcastically holding back a scoff, you look up at him once again, sending him a glare

After a few moments of silence, he spoke up “Are you not even going to say anything?”

You sighed angrily, the last thing you wanted to do right now was speak to him “There is nothing to speak about, Viscount Bridgerton”

He scoffed rolling his eyes “Surely you cannot be serious” he grabbed your arm and pulled you into an empty corridor after making sure nobody saw you both “Let us start with something simple, how about the fact that you married Jacob Thornwell when you knew damn well I did not like him”

“Excuse me?!” You scoffed angrily“Who I married is none of your concern”

“None of my concern?” He laughed humorlessly “None… of….my….concern?”

“Yes," you reply “None of your concern, you did not have any say in who I married and whether you liked him or not. Well, guess what? I did not care, not.one.bit” You snapped “ You were the one that left me! Might I remind you of that night when you came into my room and told me all kind of horrible things?”

“I-“ he tried to cut in

“No, no, let me speak!” you glare at him “You told me I was just an easy lay, you told me you didn’t ever have any plans of marrying me and were only looking for an innocent, naïve, foolish little girl who you could fool into sleeping with you. You told me I was a fool for believing everything you ever told me”

“Y/n-“

“Let me speak!” you breathed out harshly, Anthony went silent “Do you have any idea how horrible I felt? How broken I felt? You were the first man I was ever with, the first man who paid even just a little bit of attention to me. The first man I ever loved…. I really loved you, Anthony… I loved you so much that it consumed me entirely. And you left me” you chuckle emotionlessly “But do not worry, I feel nothing for you anymore”

“You seduced me, ruined me, and then left me. I gave you what I should have only given my husband, I was really lucky that Jacob was understanding because if not, I never would have been able to marry, god knows no one would want damaged goods” you shake your head “But I am also grateful, because you showed me how cruel men could be. You showed me how foolish I was for thinking you actually cared about me and you made me realize that I never should have loved someone as heartless as you” you scoffed and turn around, walking away from him, back to the ball

“Y/n, wait!” Anthony called out “Let me explain- y/n- let-“ you ignored him, whatever he was saying now drowned out by the music playing.

“Mama! Look!”

You turn to look at your daughter, she was pointing to a butterfly that was standing on top of a flower. You smiled at Amy, “Yes, it is very beautiful, sweetheart”

Amy smiled and ran to another part of the park “Careful,” you called out to her “And stay where I can see you”

You take a look around the park, looking for any signs of your parents but they seemed to be nowhere. You sighed and sit on a bench nearby where Amy was running around. You groan when you felt your favorite necklace become loose once again, falling down your neck.

“I should really get this fixed” you mumbled trying fasten it around your neck once again, all while you kept your eyes on Amy, making sure nothing happened to her before you felt a presence next to you.

You turn your head, finding Lady Bridgerton next to you with a smile on her face “Your grace” she greets “ It is so nice to see you after all these years”

“Lady Bridgerton” you greet her with a smile “It is so nice to see you as well”

“How have you been? How is your family?”

You smile “ They are fine, thank you for ask-“

“Mama!” You turn your head and stand up quickly when you heard Amy cry out for you. Your daughter runs to you and hugged your legs tightly “What is wrong, darling?” you ask worriedly, before pulling her away, making her look at you

“Look” She shows you her arm which was scraped, tears filling her beautiful blue eyes “I hit a rock and now there is blood” She sniffled

“Oh, now now, do not cry” you coo caressing her cheek. You look up at Lady Bridgerton, who was staring at Amelia with wide eyes, her face turning pale. Dread fills your entire body.

“I- Is that- She looks- what- A-“ She stuttered

“Lady Bridgerton” you cut her off “If you may excuse me, I must find my parents, it was nice seeing you again” you give her one last smile and walked away, holding onto Amy’s hand

You groan as you ruffled throughout your bedchambers. You looked through your clothes, under your bed, on your dresser, anywhere you could think of but you still could not find it.

You exit your bedchambers and head down the stairs to the drawing room. “Mama” you called out entering the room “Have you seen my necklace? I cannot seem to find it anywhere”

Your mama looked up from her embroidery “Have you looked in your chambers?”

“I have” you looked at her worried “but it is not there” you grumble sitting down next to her “I need to find it mama, that is the last thing I have of Jacob, it is really special”

She raises an eyebrow “Well, I seem to think the last thing you have of Jacob is Amy, is she not?”

You stayed still “I – yes, of course, but I mean the last materialistic think left of him” I reply

She hums “Well, now that I remember, I recall Lady Bridgerton saying she has your necklace and you could go over today if you desire”

Your face lights up “Perfect! I will go then” you walk away before stopping and turning back to her “Will you look after Amy for me, please, I will not be long” you smile when she nods and walk out of the house

You open the front door slowly, looking around before walking further in. “Lady Bridgerton?” you called out and enter the drawing room

You huff when you don’t see her inside “She is not even here, why did she say to come here today then? And why didn’t she just send me my necklace with a maid” you roll your eyes before turning around, stopping when you come face to face with Anthony

“Looking for this?” He holds out your necklace, you look down at the necklace before looking back up at him

“Why do you have it? Give me it” you held out your hand, gesturing towards your necklace

He shrugs “If this was so important for you, why did you lose it? Mother found your necklace lying on the ground in the park,” he chuckled “How careless of you. And I, like the good son i am, told her that I would give it to you, how sweet of me, right?” He smirked

“Give it to me” you demand, glaring at him

“Tell me the truth first” He shakes his head

You furrowed your eyebrows “What are you talking about? Give me my necklace, now”

“Tell me you have not forgotten me” He mutters “That you still feel something for me”

You swallow, your eyes flickering between both of his eyes before looking down at your necklace and then back at him “Give me my necklace” you decide to ignore his words, evading his eyes so he does not see how much he is affecting you

“Y/n,” he sighs “I love you” he blurts out, you start to feel a light sting on your eyes.

“What are you even saying?” you needed to get out of there, you cannot stand to be there any longer “You are speaking nonsense!” You step around him to walk away but he stops you before you could make another step

“Come on, Y/n” He pleads holding onto your arms

“Let me go” you demand trying to jerk out of his hold

“If you tell me the truth, I will let you go” He said softly, you ignore his words once more, looking down at your necklace in his hands

“Give me back my necklace or dont, either way I will leave” you stated angrily

“Tell me the truth” Anthony repeated “Tell me you have not forgotten about what we had, tell me you have not forgotten me, tell me that you still love me”

You narrow your eyes at him, chuckling humorlessly “ I do not have to tell you anything”

“Do not do this, Y/n” he sighs exasperated

“Do what?” you glare at him

“Do not do this”

“What should I not do?!” you exclaimed

“I am in love with you, Y/n” Anthony admits looking at you softly

You snort before chuckling and looking around “Love?” you turn to look back at him, he nods in response “ After all these years, you speak to me about love?” You shake your head incredulously

“What did you think? After all these years, you will come to tell me that you are in love with me and I will jump straight on to your arms, right?” You throw your hands in the air in disbelief “In all that time I spent with you, I'm sure you did not know what place I occupy in your life! You treated me like an object, was I your mistress? Your lover? Did you even plan on courting me or did you only want me to be someone you could tumble around in the sheets with? Oh! wait a moment, you did say you were only looking for a easy lay. And now you speak to me about love!” You scoff

He looks down in shame “I had so many things going around, Y/n, I was confused. I did not know what to do and how to do it. And- and I did not want to drag you down with me” you look at him in disbelief “But I have always been in love with you”

You clench your jaw and scoffed “I do not even know why I am talking to you about this” you uttered and walked around him “Let me go” you exclaimed when he pulled you back towards your spot once again

You look at his chest, not wanting to see him in the face as your eyes stung with tears. Anthony looked down at you and nodded “Then tell me you have forgotten me, tell me you do not love me anymore ”

You opened your mouth and then closed it before opening it once more to speak this time “I forgot you” you looked at him in the eye “ Is that all? I forgot you! I do not love you anymore” you affirmed once more

You step away from his hold “What did you think?! That I would wait for you all these years?! That I would act as if I was just waiting for you to decide you wanted me again, to jump back into your arms?! That I would revolve everything around you?! Do you still think everything revolves around you?! –“

He pulls you into a kiss, cutting off your words. You tense, not expecting what he just did. He kisses you for a few more moments before pulling back. You remained emotionlessly, your lips tingling from the kiss you just shared a few seconds ago.

“I’m sorry” you snapped back out off your trance to look at him “I have crossed the line, I am sorry, if you want we can talk” he sighs ashamed at himself

”I may not know much about love, and that is mostly my fault for not letting myself love, but I know a lot about you” Anthony voiced “ I know you like to look at the rain, sometimes you even let the drops grace your hand. I also know you adore looking at the stars, those little lights that make your eyes shine in wonder. And you like to get lost in your thoughts, in that mind so disastrous but philosophical at the same time. You are a riddle that at first sight is complex but when you get to know it, you discover that it is a wonder of the world”

You ponder over his words, looking up at his face before looking back down, wringing your fingers before looking back up at him once again.

You smile sadly “ I cannot forgive you, Anthony, every sweet word you say cannot take away all of the pain you caused me, and I am sincerely sorry if you thought that this encounter would turn out another way, one in which everything is forgiven and you and I could be the perfect picture family but I am sorry to disappoint you. I cannot forgive you, and honestly," you sighed “ I do not want to”

With that, you turned away,

“Y/n…” he mumbled, you stop once again “ Love me again, please” you let out a shaky breath shaking your head and walking away and this time, he willingly lets you.

You wipe your tears away furiously entering your home once again “ Y/n?” your mama comes out of the drawing room, she looks at your tear stained cheeks before looking into your eyes worriedly “What happened?”

Your lips trembled before you hug her, letting the tears fall silently “Oh, what is wrong my dear?” you shook your head hugging her more tightly

After a few moments you pull away, wiping under your eyes carefully, all while your mama is still looking at you.

She sighed before sitting down next to you “I will give you some advice and I hope you listen to it” your mama uttered, her eyes flicking over to the drawing room before she spoke “Cry what you have to cry and suffer what you have to suffer. Because everything is ephemeral in this life, everything gives way at some point and pain is not the exception. And if you have to scream, then do so, if you have to break down, then break down. Do what you have to do to start again, to be able to heal, to be able to be happy and to be able to live”

“Why are you telling me this?” you wonder confused as she stood up, grabbing your hand before she led you out to the garden, where you saw your daughter running around happily

She chuckles softly “Dear, do you really think I did not know about your affair with the viscount?” you stare at her wide eyed, speechless “Do you think I had no idea that you snuck him in every night on your first season? Of course I did know, you are my only daughter and I would be damned if I let you be hurt by anything.”

You went to make up something but she cut you off “ And do not make some excuse that it was actually you who snuck out because you went for morning rides on your horse because it is not even believable” your mama rolls her eyes “ I care for you and your brother, and now little Amelia, more than anyone in this world, even more than your father. I love my children and grandchildren, that is the reason why I never said anything to you or to anyone. I saw how happy he made you, I thought you hid your courtship because you did not desire the society's attention on you both and that you would soon inform us that you were together, maybe even engaged”

“Mama…” you whisper looking down

“But then that light I saw in your eyes faded, you would spend your days locked in your bedchamber's , and imagine my surprise when you announced a month after, that you were getting married to Jacob Thornwell” your mama let out a shaky breath “You do not know how heartbroken I felt to see you like that. So low spirited, that the girl that used to be so happy, laughed so much and had so much love to give, was gone in a matter of a day”

“And I do not know what happened between the viscount and you but I trust you and your decisions. That is why I still supported you when you decided to marry the duke even when you were not in love with him. It was not a marriage of love but at least it was one of friendship, one in which you had a beautiful daughter” she remarked

You smiled lightly “She really is beautiful” you looked at Amelia who went to sit on the swing, looking at a butterfly that was flying by

Your mama hummed “She really did get the best of you and the viscount’s features” once again, you were left speechless, your smile fading as she laughed once she saw your expression “Oh please, I did not for one second believe that you gave birth 2 months early because of some complications you supposedly had, and Amy looks a lot like the viscount, Lady Bridgerton can surely attest to that” she then walked away after dropping that bomb on you.

“Your grace”

You looked to your side “Oh, it is you again” you pursue your lips “You surely do not understand that I do not want you near me, do you?”

“Oh come on, do not be like that” you roll your eyes at his words

“ I am not being like anything” You grumble “ I am simply annoyed that you cannot seem to take a hint and leave me alone”

“Of course I can take a hint” Anthony huffs “I just simply choose not to accede to your desires” You scoff

“Such a nice person you are” you grumble looking away

“I never said I was nice" he tilted his head to look at you better

“I can see that” you said

“Mama!” Amy slammed on to your legs “Grandmamma said i can eat some of the sweets on the table if you allow me” You look down at your daughter “Can I please eat some?” Amy gave you a pout making you laugh

“Of course” you laugh before you turned at your side when you remembered who was next too you. Anthony was looking at Amy wide eyed

“She is – is she your daughter?” He asked you, you nodded, your heart starting to pound faster.

He knelt down to her height and extended a hand, smiling at her slightly “Hello” he greeted her when she turned to him “ I am Viscount Bridgerton but you can call me Anthony”

Amy smiled happily, shaking his hand “I am Amelia but my family calls me Amy” Anthony looked at you for a moment before turning back to Amy

“How old are you, Amy?”

“Amelia, sweetheart,” you cut in “Why do you not go back to grandmamma and eat those sweets you were telling me about?”

“How old are you, Amy?” Anthony asked again

“Amy-“

“5” Amy answered him happily, showing him five fingers. Anthony snapped his eyes towards you quickly when she answered

“Amy” you stressed out, Amy looked at you then “Will you please go to grandmamma now?”

She shrugged and skipped happily towards your mama who was already looking at you three, your mama gave you a look when her eyes met yours flickering her eyes to Anthony and back to you before smiling at Amy who was now next to her.

You sighed looking at Anthony, who was now turning pale “She – why did you – Y/n, I do not understand – is she my daugh –“you cut him off, grabbing his hand and pulling him to an empty room after making sure no one saw you.

“Do not say those things where anyone can hear you, Lord Bridgerton” you snapped

He chuckled humorlessly, his eyebrows furrowing as he clenched his jaw“She is my daughter” He stated

“ No, she is not” you denied “She is Jacob’s daughter” he narrowed his eyes at you

“Do not try to lie to me because I do not believe you”

“Well you must because that is the truth” you rolled your eyes at him

“She is five” he snapped angrily “She has my mother’s eyes, Daphne’s eyes." He looked around before leaning in closer “And you and I both know Jacob liked everything but women.” Anthony stepped back, clearing his throat “You can try to deny it all you want but the proof was right there in front of me” You stayed quiet “Why did you not tell me? Did you not think I deserved to know my daughter?”

“She is not your daughter!” You exclaim “ She is mine and she is Jacob’s, not yours” Anthony looked at you hurt

You both stared at each other silently, your chests rising quickly, heavy breaths escaping both of your lips. Anthony sighed walking closer to you, you swallowed, taking one step back with every step he took towards you.

“Why did you marry Jacob Thornwell?” He asked “Did you love him?”

You shook your head, deciding to answer with the truth “It was not love. I did not marry him for love, but for friendship” he looked at you confused

“You told me you would not marry unless it was for love-“

“Yes, well, things change do they not?” you muttered, he went silent.

“I am sorry,” He admitted quietly after a few minutes “I know whatever I say is not enough, and it will also not take away any of the pain I caused you, but I am truly sorry, please believe me, Y/n” he held onto your hands, you look down at your intertwined hands

He raised your chin with his hand, making you look back up at him. “I cannot defend myself because there is no excuse that can fix what I did to you, I, myself, do not know why I did that” he swallowed “ The only thing I can say is that i loved you then, and I love you now, and if you allow me, I can continue to love you for the rest of my life ”

“There is no one else I would rather have next to me, no one else I would rather love for eternity than the one person I have really loved my entire life. No one else than the mother of my beautiful daughter.” He caressed your cheeks “Say yes, Y/n. Let us have that life that I so stupidly threw away. Let me prove that I can truly make you happy. Let me love you”

You stayed silent before speaking up “I moved on with my life, pretending that nothing had happened between us.” You admitted quietly “But there were times when you crossed my mind, especially when I looked at Amelia” you then added “you caused my heart to explode by the simple memory of something that was. It is strange, to know that even with everything that happened, that love I held for you, the same one I still have for you, never faded” his face started to light up with his words. A small smile appearing in his face.

“Does that mean you will…..”

“I do not know if I will regret this, but I have not stopped loving you. I- Anthony- I promise you, do not make me regret this or else I will really murder you” You grumble

Anthony laughs happily before pulling you into a kiss, his lips moved against yours softly, testing the waters, as if to make sure you won’t pull away before he started to kiss you more passionately. His hands pulling you close by your waist as you wrapped your hands around his neck, kissing him back just as passionately.

“I won’t” he mumbled onto your lips “If so I give you permission to murder me willingly”

You hummed before pulling away“Just let me love you before that happens” you smile.

#anthony bridgerton x reader #anthony bridgerton x y/n #anthony bridgerton x you #bridgerton imagine #bridgerton x reader #anthony bridgerton #bridgerton x you #benedict bridgerton #eloise bridgerton #hyacinth bridgerton #violet bridgerton #daphne basset #daphne bridgerton #gregory bridgerton #francesca bridgerton #colin bridgerton #lady danbury #lady whistledown

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the-moonprophet · 2 months

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A lil something for my fellow BBC Merlin fans out there: imagine a fic written from the POV of Cedric from the Curse of Cornelius Sigan episode…

As a thief, Cedric is willing to go to any lengths to get his hands on valuable riches. So when he has to infiltrate the castle and gain Prince Arthur’s trust, so be it.

He manages to get under Arthur’s wing by humiliating the Prince’s servant, Merlin. It’s easy enough; the boy's an absolute moron. But it amazes Cedric that, even in the boy's absence, the Prince will not stop talking about him.

Granted, it's mostly insults, but it gets old nonetheless. With the Prince, it's always, “Merlin this," and "Merlin that." Cedric can't wait to get his hands on the key to the tomb so he can pillage the treasure and get out of Camelot.

Finally, Cedric sees his plan coming together when he stages an accident in the stables and blames it on Merlin. He suggests to the angry Prince that, "Merlin’s tired." He wasn’t confident about this part, but somehow, it convinced Arthur to give Merlin the day off.

With the oddly perceptive boy out of the way, Cedric is granted the position of Arthur’s manservant for the rest of the day. This is perfect, considering Cedric’s plan is going along nicely, but there's a downside; now, he has to listen to even more Merlin talk.

"I don't see why he can't just take care of himself. It’s a basic human function," Arthur grumbles as Cedric serves him dinner.

"I mean, is it really that difficult to get a full night's sleep?" the Prince mutters from the bath while Cedric waits patiently for orders.

"And don't even get me started on his personal hygiene!" Arthur groans as he gets ready for bed. "I mean, really! Is he so exhausted that he can't even spare a few minutes to bathe?"

"Yes, my lord," Cedric repeats for the billionth time. He cannot wait until he never has to say those words again. Will this royal prat of a Prince ever shut up about his servant? It’s just strange—they’re strange.

Arthur heaves a sigh, plucking his keys off his waist and tucking them into his bedside drawer, mumbling something about incompetence. To Cedric, he was beginning to sound like an irritated housewife.

It isn’t long before Arthur’s grumbles are replaced with snores, and Cedric launches to action. He plucks the keys from the bedside drawer and creeps toward the door, but not before staring down at the unconscious Prince. Considering how easy it had been for Cedric to pull this off, Prince Arthur doesn’t seem like a very capable ruler. If he can’t even keep his keys safe, how can he protect an entire kingdom?

Although, as Arthur rolls over and murmurs an all-too familiar name in his sleep, Cedric considers the importance of a lowly servant. It’s a position of great trust (which is probably why Arthur didn’t think twice about falling asleep with a stranger in his room). A person this close to the Prince during his personal moments is expected to assist in the mundane—like making sure his belongings are kept safe while he sleeps, for example.

Cedric allows that, given the treatment Prince Arthur is used to, the man might not expect betrayal from his servant.

Cedric thinks about the Prince’s real servant, doing who-knows-what after that stables incident. Merlin had caught onto him unusually quickly. Normally, Cedric has a few days before anyone suspects him.

It’s odd, the close attention Merlin paid—not just to Cedric, but to Arthur. Almost as though he wishes to protect him, but how could a servant protect the strongest knight in Camelot?

The boy had seemed a bit too devoted to his Prince… Cedric wonders what that’s all about.

Well, no matter now. It’s time to get rich.

Cedric stalks out of the room.

#bbc merlin #merlin fandom #merlin x arthur #merthur #merlin fanfic #merlin #merlin season 2 #i will die on this hill #this ship gives me life #they are everything to me #merlin was definitely rolling in his bed thinking abt his precious position being stolen #they will be the death of me #this ship has taken over my life #merlin rewatch #merlin in 2024 #fanfic #fanfic prompt #merlin fans unite #season 5 can suck my d

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alilixx · 2 months

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James Wilson x Fem!Cardiologist Reader

Heartbeats and Invisible Connections

Nothing to say so i hope you will like it! Btw i just rewatch The devil wears Prada and i love smmm MIRANDA??? I mean, i will write on her soon (i will never abandon House md, everything for my girls!

Warning: Mature, NSFW, Some Dark!Wilson, death, House being House.

Pairing: James Wilson x Fem!Cardiologist Reader

Laughter could be heard in the hospital room, just like every day. The young boy in front of you was in tears from laughing so hard at the TV, and you were just as amused as he was. After all, you were watching The Powerpuff Girls! You knew it was his favorite cartoon, so you watched every new episode with him. Even though Cuddy wasn't too thrilled about it, you spent at least two hours a day with the young patient. Blake was a five-year-old child suffering from an incurable heart condition. A malformation took up too much space, hindering the development of his lungs. The chance of survival after surgery was minimal, so you couldn't offer it.

Blake had been entrusted to you two years ago, when his mother passed away from pancreatic cancer. His father, a very busy businessman, gradually stopped coming to visit. At first, he would come occasionally, but soon he no longer found the time to visit his own son, citing a busy schedule. You tried to understand, but deep down, you couldn't accept this prolonged absence. How could someone leave their child to face such a serious illness without parental support?

You then promised yourself that you would never let Blake feel abandoned. You became more than a doctor to him; you were his guardian, his pillar, the only constant in his turbulent life. The first few months were difficult. How do you explain to a three-year-old that his father was abandoning him? It was almost impossible. Blake often cried, asking why his father no longer came. Your heart broke every time, but you found the words to comfort him, inventing stories about heroes and adventures to give him hope and joy.

Over time, you established a routine. You came by every morning to gently wake him up, often with a special breakfast you brought from home. You shared these simple but precious moments before starting the long days of tests and treatments. Blake loved The Powerpuff Girls, and you quickly adopted the habit of watching the episodes with him. It was a comforting ritual, a bubble of happiness in an often dark daily life.

With every operation, every scan, every MRI, you were there. You held his hand, reassured him, promised him that everything would be okay. Even though you knew the chances were slim, you always kept hope. Blake had become like a little brother to you. You admired his courage, his ability to smile despite everything. His resilience gave you the strength to carry on, even when the weight of reality seemed too heavy to bear.

The other doctors and nurses respected your dedication, though some whispered that you were getting too emotionally involved. But how could you not? How could you remain detached when a child depended on you for everything, when he called for a hug in the middle of the night after a nightmare, when he proudly showed you his drawings and asked for your opinion? Blake needed you, and you were ready to do anything for him.

One morning, as you were preparing Blake for yet another round of tests, you found yourself thinking about the future. What would become of Blake if... No, you couldn't think that way. You shook yourself mentally and focused on the present. Today, he would watch a new episode of The Powerpuff Girls, and you would be there by his side to share his laughter and tears. You owed him that much.

Every day was a battle, but also a victory, no matter how small. And you would continue to fight for Blake because he deserved it, because he was more than just a patient—he was a part of you.

Of course, he cost you a snack every day because the young boy had a sweet tooth. Several chocolate bars, whether caramel, coconut, or other flavors, you knew he would eat them. You ate together to keep him company; eating alone as a child in the hospital wasn't easy.

Months passed, and you noticed that Blake seemed more tired than usual. He had started to complain about unusual pains, and you noted a worrying pallor on his face. Your medical instinct pushed you to look deeper, to understand what was wrong. After a series of initial tests, you still couldn't determine the exact cause of his symptoms. One night, as Blake slept peacefully after an exhausting day, you found yourself in your office, immersed in his medical files.

It was then that you decided to consult James Wilson, the head of oncology at the hospital. You knew his reputation and expertise because you had risen through the ranks together, and you knew he would be the best person to help you understand what was happening to Blake. You occasionally saw him during department head meetings at the hospital.

The next morning, after preparing Blake for his routine tests, you headed to Wilson's office. As you knocked on the door, you felt both anxious and determined. Wilson looked up from his papers and greeted you with a warm smile.

"Good morning, Dr. [Y/N]. What can I do for you?" he asked, gesturing for you to sit.

"Good morning, Dr. Wilson. I need your expertise. One of my patients, Blake, is exhibiting some troubling symptoms, and I can't identify the exact cause. I'm afraid it might be something serious."

Wilson nodded, his expression becoming more serious. "Alright, tell me more about his symptoms and show me his files."

You spent the next thirty minutes detailing Blake's condition, his medical history, and the results of recent tests. Wilson listened attentively, asking pertinent questions and taking down important notes.

"I'll need to examine Blake myself and perhaps order a few additional tests," he said finally. "What you're describing could be several things, but I want to be sure before drawing any conclusions."

You nodded, grateful for his help. "Thank you, Dr. Wilson. I just want to make sure we're doing everything we can for him."

Later in the day, Wilson joined Blake in his room. With your reassuring presence by his side, Blake showed courage and cooperated during the additional examinations. The following days were filled with tests and anxious waiting.

Finally, the results came in. The diagnosis was devastating: Blake had developed heart cancer, a rare but possible complication of his pre-existing heart condition. The news hit you like a punch, but you knew you had to stay strong for Blake.

You turned to Wilson, feeling the weight of this news. "What do we do now?" you asked, determined not to give up.

"We're going to fight," he replied calmly. "I'll work with you and the team to develop a treatment plan. Blake is an incredibly brave little boy, and he deserves all our efforts."

You simply nodded before returning to his room, holding his hand while you sat beside his bed. He slept peacefully, and you rested your head on his arm. The past few days had been complicated due to the stress. Cuddy had quickly stopped by after hearing the news from Wilson. She looked at you through the window before leaving a few minutes later.

The following days were even harder. Should you tell him? Explain that he would die sooner? Leave him in denial? These choices were impossible to make, but your routine didn't change. He shouldn't know until you made a decision.

Unfortunately, today was a night shift for you. You returned to your office, lingering over Blake's adoption file, but decided to leave to avoid sinking even further. Hours passed, and you could finally take your break, which you obviously spent with Blake. Without realizing it, a single tear fell down your cheek. Just one. But in that tear lay all the pain contained for days.

This tear was wiped away by the only man who could understand your suffering. James.

"Cry, Dr. [Y/N]. Now that I’m here with you, you’re free to reveal your sadness," he said softly, his comforting hand resting on your shoulder.

Those words, full of compassion and understanding, broke down the last barriers you had built to contain your pain. You finally let out the tears you had been holding back for so long. James stayed by your side, offering his silent but powerful support. You shared a moment of raw humanity, where the roles of doctors faded away, giving way to those of human beings facing suffering and uncertainty.

After a long while, you pulled yourself together, taking a deep breath. "Thank you, James. I needed that."

"We're all in this fight together," he replied with a comforting smile. "And we will do everything for Blake."

Your next destination was Cuddy's office. You took a moment before opening the door, and when you opened and closed it behind you, your words came out in a rush.

"I'm giving up on Blake's adoption file."

She looked up from her computer and simply nodded. She knew the file wouldn't be accepted; she just wanted you to make that decision yourself. You had worked with her for about ten years, so yes, she knew how you operated. After that, interactions with Cuddy became less frequent. It wasn't her fault, but her office reminded you too much of the premature death that Blake was going to face.

You saw James often enough to discuss Blake's case. Sometimes, he even joined you for lunch. You found this rather pleasant. James had a unique way of making Blake smile, even in the most difficult moments. His anecdotes, subtle humor, and reassuring presence provided a certain comfort that you couldn't deny.

One day, after sharing a meal with Blake and James, you found yourself feeling a bit lighter, almost optimistic. The bond developing between you and James was a valuable support. You spent hours discussing treatment options, analyzing test results, and exploring every possibility to give Blake a chance to pull through.

Despite the grim diagnosis, every little progress, every smile from Blake, and every moment shared with James gave you the strength to continue.

One evening, as you were finishing your rounds, James joined you in the hallway. "I wanted to thank you," he said, his eyes filled with sincerity. "For everything you do for Blake, and for allowing someone like me to be a part of this fight."

You smiled, touched by his words but still mindful of his reputation as a flirt. "I should be the one thanking you. Your presence makes a huge difference, not only for Blake but also for me."

He looked at you with an intensity that made your heart beat a little faster. "You don't have to carry all of this alone. We're a team, remember."

Months passed, and despite all the efforts by you, James, and the medical team, Blake's condition continued to deteriorate. Each day, you saw his smile become a bit more fragile, his voice a bit weaker, but his will to live remained astonishingly strong. The relationship between you and James grew stronger, and he became one of the most important people to you during this dark period. You spent more and more time together, sharing the sorrows and the rare moments of joy.

Blake continued to laugh at his favorite Powerpuff Girls, devouring the chocolate bars you brought him each day. James often joined your small meals, bringing with him a comforting presence and a quiet strength that helped you hold on.

Despite all attempts at treatment, Blake's heart cancer was too advanced. The discussions with James grew more serious, more somber, as options dwindled. You had tried to protect Blake from the gravity of his situation, but he wasn't fooled. One day, as you were watching an episode of his favorite cartoon, he took your hand and asked in a soft but determined voice:

"Am I going to die, Y/N?"

The shock of his words left you speechless for a moment. You exchanged a glance with James, who stood silently beside you. Finally, you took a deep breath and answered with heartfelt sincerity:

"We are doing everything we can to keep you healthy, Blake. But yes, your illness is very serious."

Blake nodded, seeming to accept this reality with a surprising maturity for his age. "Thank you for telling me. I'm glad you're both here."

The following weeks were marked by a melancholic tenderness. You did everything possible to make Blake's last days as happy and comfortable as possible. Laughter was mingled with tears, each moment becoming precious and fleeting.

Then, one morning, as you arrived at the hospital, you felt a heaviness in the air. Entering Blake's room, you found James already there, sitting by the bed, holding Blake's hand. The little boy was sleeping peacefully, an unusual serenity on his face.

"He's gone," James murmured, tears in his eyes. "He fell asleep without pain."

You felt overwhelmed by a wave of sadness, but also relief. Blake no longer had to suffer. You sat on the other side of the bed, taking his small, cold hand in yours. Tears flowed freely down your cheeks.

"We did everything we could," James said softly. "And he knew he was loved until the end."

These words brought some comfort. Blake had been surrounded by the love and dedication of those who cared most for him. You spent a long time by his side, with James, mourning the loss of the brave little boy but also celebrating the life he had, no matter how short.

The days that followed were filled with mourning and memories. James’s presence beside you was invaluable, and together, you found the strength to say goodbye to Blake and to move forward, despite the pain.

Blake had been more than just a patient. And even though he was no longer here, his memory would continue to live on in you, constantly reminding you why you became a cardiologist, though your mental health did not improve despite your attempts at positivity.

After all this, you barely left the hospital. You hardly slept anymore. Running on energy drinks and coffee, your heart grew increasingly fragile. You no longer took much care of yourself, doing just enough to survive and continue your work. The loss of Blake, whom you considered your little brother, was a gaping wound. Although you knew it was better for him, you couldn’t accept the truth. Years of fighting for this, only for him to ultimately succumb to cancer, made you feel nauseous.

One evening, as you were changing in the locker room, you heard footsteps approaching. James approached you gently, causing you to flinch slightly. You were still lost in your thoughts, pondering a solution that had eluded you, a miracle that had never come.

"Y/N," he began softly, his voice full of compassion. "It's not your fault. Life is sometimes unfair, but he's better off where he is. It's hard, and I understand, but take care of yourself as Blake would have wanted. I'm not telling you to live the life he should have had, but not to destroy yourself in an 'honor' to him."

His words, though well-intentioned, hit you like a slap. "Don’t tell me how I should feel!" you retorted sharply, anger and pain mingling in your voice. But seeing the sadness and understanding in James’s eyes, you realized you had reacted too abruptly. "I’m sorry, James. I know you’re trying to help."

James shook his head, a sad smile on his lips. "You don’t have to apologize. I know how hard it is. But you can’t keep going like this; you’re going to destroy yourself."

What you didn’t know was that Cuddy was behind it all. She was deeply concerned for you. Unable to bear seeing her head of service fall apart, she had asked James to look out for you, even if it meant spending more time at your place or inviting you to stay at his.

In the following days, James increased his presence. He regularly came to see you, encouraging you to talk about how you were feeling. One evening, after a particularly grueling day, he invited you to dinner at his place. You accepted, too exhausted to refuse.

At James’s home, the atmosphere was soothing. The simplicity of his apartment and the warmth of his welcome all helped you feel a bit better. You spent the evening talking, not about work or Blake, but about everything and nothing—childhood memories, dreams, passions.

"You know," James said at one point, setting down his coffee cup, "Cuddy asked me to look out for you. She’s worried about you, just like I am. You’re important to us, to the hospital. But more than that, you’re important to yourself. Blake wouldn’t want to see you destroy yourself like this."

These words touched you deeply. The harsh reality of your situation, combined with the immense fatigue you felt, began to crumble under the warmth of James’s compassion and support.

"I know it’s hard to hear this now," he continued, "but you need time to heal. And you don’t have to do it alone."

Tears began to silently stream down your cheeks. For the first time in a long while, you allowed yourself to feel the pain, without pushing it away, without hardening yourself. James approached and gently embraced you, letting you cry against him.

"I'm here," he murmured. "We’re here for you."

In the following days, you began to accept James’s help. He would join you for long walks after work, make sure you ate properly and got some rest. You knew the road to healing would be long, but with James by your side, you felt a glimmer of hope begin to emerge.

Seeing that you were improving, Cuddy called you into her office one day. "I’m proud of you," she said simply. "And I know Blake would be too."

You smiled, feeling a newfound strength within you. "Thank you, Cuddy. For everything."

One of the long evenings at James's place, you sat side by side on the couch. Exhausted from the emotions and work, you couldn’t help but let your head fall onto James's shoulder. "What movie do you want to watch?" he asked, not realizing that you had already dozed off. He looked at you tenderly before taking your hand and gently stroking it. James was aware that the role of a cardiologist was demanding; you often worked with children for diagnoses, and he knew it was exhausting and that you slept little.

Gently, he slipped one hand behind your back and the other under your knees. Carefully standing up, he cradled your light body in his arms and carried you to his bedroom, where he laid you down on the bed with great care. You had already fallen deeply asleep and were unaware of the situation. James tenderly stroked your cheek, once again gazing at your face.

"Rest well, Y/N," he whispered, his voice barely audible. "You’ve given so much for Blake. Let me take care of you now."

He adjusted the blanket over you, ensuring you were snug and warm. Then he quietly withdrew, making sure not to make any noise. As he closed the door, he cast a final glance to ensure you were sleeping peacefully.

James settled on the couch with a book, but his mind was elsewhere. He thought about you, your strength and pain, and how much he wanted to help you through this tough time. Hours passed, and eventually, exhausted himself, he fell asleep.

In the morning, you woke up in a room you didn't immediately recognize. The events of the previous evening slowly came back to you. You remembered being at James’s place, having fallen asleep on the couch… and now you were in his bed. A feeling of warmth and security enveloped you.

Hearing your movements, James got up and came to join you. "Good morning," he said with a gentle smile. "I hope you slept well."

You nodded, touched by his care. "Thank you, James. For everything."

“There’s no need to thank me. You need rest, and I’m here to help,” he said sincerely. “Now, let’s have a nice breakfast. It’s time to take care of yourself.”

You sat down at the table, noticing pancakes and fruits you loved. The sight of the carefully prepared food comforted you, and you began to eat with appetite. What you didn’t know was that Wilson had added nicotine to your drink. His goal? To make your brain associate the pleasure and dependence on nicotine with his own presence, creating a subtle and gradual addiction to him.

You took a sip of your drink, savoring its taste. Quickly, a sense of relaxation washed over you, soothing your tense nerves. You felt strangely good, almost euphoric. The food, the coffee, the reassuring presence of James… everything seemed perfect.

“These pancakes are delicious,” you said with a smile. “Did you really take the time to make all this?”

James nodded, his gaze full of tenderness. “I wanted you to start the day on a positive note. You deserve to feel good, Y/N.”

You continued eating, feeling better and better with each bite and sip. The nicotine was working its magic, reinforcing the positive association with James. You felt closer to him, more dependent on his comforting presence.

James, discreetly observing your reactions, saw that his plan was working. He knew you were vulnerable, and he wanted to be the one to support you, the one you would need. He wanted you, just for himself.

As the days went by, a routine settled in. James often prepared meals for you, inviting you to share these moments of respite and comfort. Every meal you had together seemed to give you renewed energy and strength. What you didn’t know was that James continued to add nicotine to your drinks, subtly increasing your dependency.

“There’s no need to thank me. You need rest, and I’m here to help,” he said sincerely. “Now, let’s have a nice breakfast. It’s time to take care of yourself.”

“These pancakes are delicious,” you said with a smile. “Did you really take the time to make all this?”

James nodded, his gaze full of tenderness. “I wanted you to start the day on a positive note. You deserve to feel good, Y/N.”

Sitting at the table, you took a sip of your drink, immediately feeling a sense of well-being wash over you. James watched you discreetly, satisfied to see that his plan was working. You felt better, calmer, and most importantly, you felt dependent on these shared moments with him.

Days turned into weeks, and your dependence on James became increasingly evident. He had become your anchor, your refuge. You could no longer imagine going a day without seeing him, without feeling the sense of well-being he provided. The nicotine had done its job, but it was James's love and attention that had truly made you addicted.

Seeing that his plan was working perfectly, James decided to reinforce your dependence even further. One evening, after a particularly pleasant dinner, he suggested that you stay at his place for the night. You accepted without hesitation, feeling safe with him. While you slept, he discreetly installed surveillance apps on your phone and computer, allowing him to track your movements and communications.

The next morning, you woke up feeling refreshed, completely unaware of the ongoing manipulations. James greeted you with a smile as you emerged from sleep. "Did you sleep well?"

"Yes, thank you," you replied with a smile. "I feel much better."

"I'm glad to hear that," he said, handing you a cup of coffee. "Let's start the day on a positive note."

With James by your side, you began to slowly rebuild your life, unaware of the subtle manipulation that had facilitated this dependence. To you, James had become indispensable, the pillar you could always count on, and you had no idea of the shadow of his plan that loomed over your relationship.

Months had passed since Blake's loss, and your relationship with James Wilson had evolved remarkably, even if it was partly due to manipulation.

One evening, after a particularly challenging day at the hospital, you found yourself at James's place once again. You had developed a sort of ritual: after work, you would go to his home for dinner, conversation, and much-needed respite during this tumultuous period of your life. That night, the atmosphere was especially soothing. The dim light in the living room, the whisper of the wind through the open windows, and the comforting warmth of James's home created an ambiance conducive to deeper confessions.

As you sat on the couch with a glass of wine in hand, the conversation drifted to more personal topics. You found yourself sharing stories and thoughts that you had never dared to confide in anyone else.

"You know, James, I don't think I could have gone through all this without you," you said softly, looking at your glass as if searching for answers. "You've become an essential part of my life, and I can't imagine moving forward without you."

James looked at you with a tenderness you had never truly noticed before. "Y/N, you are incredibly strong. But even the strongest among us need support. And I am so glad I can be here for you."

He set down his glass and took your hand in his, a comforting gesture that sent a wave of warmth through your body. "We've been through so much together, and I believe it has brought us closer in ways neither of us could have predicted."

The silence that followed was charged with emotion. You turned slightly toward him, searching in his eyes for confirmation of what you were feeling. And in his eyes, you saw the same spark, the same depth of feeling that burned within you.

"James…" you began, but words failed you. He seemed to understand, as he gently leaned in, closing the distance between your faces.

"Y/N, I think what we have goes beyond friendship or mere professional support. I've grown attached to you in a way I never thought possible."

His words resonated within you, and before you could respond, he leaned even closer and delicately pressed his lips to yours. It was a tender kiss, filled with all the unspoken emotions, all the shared moments, all the mingled pain and comfort.

The kiss lingered, your hands naturally finding their way into each other’s hair, and for the first time in a long while, you felt whole. When you finally separated, your breaths were staggered, but your eyes shone with the same emotion.

“I love you, Y/N,” James murmured, his eyes locked onto yours.

“I love you too, James,” you replied without hesitation, feeling a certainty you had never felt before.

You spent the evening talking about your feelings, your fears, and your hopes for the future. You fell asleep in each other's arms, finally finding peace in each other's presence.

The days that followed were marked by a new dynamic between you. At the hospital, you continued to work as professionals, but the exchanged glances, shared smiles, and subtle touches spoke of a blossoming love. The support you had always shared became even stronger, solidified by the intimate relationship you now had.

James continued to keep a close watch on you, ensuring that you were taking care of yourself. And you, although you were still unaware of some of his past manipulations, felt increasingly grounded in this new life. Meals together, evenings spent talking and watching movies, and shared nights became precious moments where you finally felt loved and understood.

However, it was impossible to completely avoid Gregory House’s sharp gaze. Nothing escaped the doctor renowned for his keen insight, and he had quickly noticed the changes in the relationship between you and James.

One afternoon, while you were in the break room, House hobbled in with his characteristic cane, a curious and mocking glint in his eyes. He settled heavily onto the couch across from you, fixing you with an enigmatic smile.

“So, Y/N, I’ve heard that Wilson has become your knight in shining armor,” he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

You blushed slightly, but you didn’t let House intimidate you. “Yes, you could say that,” you replied calmly.

House nodded, a sneaky smile on his lips. “Interesting. But tell me, do you really know everything about your valiant knight? Because, you know, Wilson has always had a knack for hiding his little manipulations.”

You frowned, feeling a twinge of concern. “What are you trying to say, House?”

He shrugged, feigning innocence. “Oh, nothing specific. Just an observation. Be careful, that’s all. Wilson has a dark side, and sometimes he thinks his actions are justified by noble intentions.”

Before you could respond, James entered the room, a defiant expression on his face. “House, maybe you could find someone else to annoy,” he said tersely, positioning himself protectively between you and House.

House raised his hands in surrender, but his sneaky smile didn’t fade. “Alright, alright. I’m leaving. But remember, secrets have a way of surfacing.”

He left the room, leaving you with a sense of unease. James turned to you, his eyes softened with concern. “Don’t let him get to you, Y/N. House likes to sow doubt. We know how we feel about each other, and that’s all that matters.”

You nodded, trying to shake off the doubts sown by House. “You’re right, James. We know what we have.”

Weeks passed, and although House never missed an opportunity to make a pointed comment or cryptic remark, your relationship with James continued to grow stronger. You found comfort in each other, and despite the shadows of the past and James's subtle manipulations, you felt increasingly rooted in this new life.

The moments you shared had become anchors in your daily routine. Whether it was having lunch together, sharing laughter during quiet moments, or finding solace in each other's arms after exhausting days, every instant deepened the bond between you.

And so, despite House’s warnings and the shadows of the past, you found a new reason to live and smile every day. It was quite common for you to dream of James, Blake, and yourself as a family. You promised yourself to nurture your relationship with James for Blake, for the family that should have been.

───✱*.｡:｡✱*.:｡✧*.｡✰*.:｡✧*.｡:｡*.｡✱ ───

The sun was barely rising, its first rays filtering through the curtains in James's bedroom. You opened your eyes, feeling the comforting warmth of James's body against yours. He was still asleep, his face relaxed and free from worries and House. You took a moment to watch him, letting a sense of happiness wash over you.

You got up gently so as not to wake him, slipping into one of his oversized t-shirts, and headed to the kitchen. Preparing breakfast had become a sort of ritual. You set water to boil for coffee and began making pancakes, a specialty you had perfected for James. Adding fresh fruit and maple syrup was your way of starting the day on a positive note.

James arrived shortly afterward, drawn by the delicious aromas filling the kitchen. He came up to you, kissed your cheek softly, and murmured a sleepy "good morning."

"Good morning to you," you replied with a smile. "Breakfast is almost ready."

You sat down at the table, enjoying the pancakes and discussing plans for the day. The subject of Blake rarely came up in your conversations, to avoid a constant reminder of the promise you had made to cherish this relationship.

After breakfast, you both got ready to head to the hospital. The drive to Princeton-Plainsboro had become a well-practiced routine, and even though the trip was short, it was filled with discussions and exchanged smiles. At the hospital, you parted ways to join your respective departments, but not without a final quick kiss and a knowing look.

The morning was as busy as ever. Between consultations, diagnostics, and meetings, you threw yourself into your work with the same passion that had driven you since the beginning of your career.

At lunchtime, you met up with James in the cafeteria. House made his usual appearance, throwing out some sarcastic remarks that made everyone smile. Despite his sharp attitude, there was an unspoken respect and camaraderie in his interactions.

“So, lovebirds, how’s the couple life?” House asked, a smirk on his face.

James responded with a similarly playful smile. “Better than your social life, House.”

Exchanges with House had become an integral part of your daily routine, a kind of game to which you had now grown accustomed. After lunch, you returned to your department, your mind still partly occupied by James’s reassuring presence.

The afternoon flew by, marked by consultations and surgeries. But whenever you had a moment of respite, you couldn’t help but think about the promise you had made for Blake.

By the end of the day, exhausted but happy, you met James at the hospital exit. You went home together, discussing the events of the day and sharing your thoughts. Once home, the evening ritual began: a simple yet delicious dinner prepared together, followed by a few hours of relaxation in front of a movie or a series.

That evening, as you sat side by side on the couch, you snuggled up against him, feeling his arm close around your shoulders. The day had been long and tiring, but it ended on a note of tenderness and intimacy.

“You know, James, sometimes I think about what Blake would have wanted for us,” you murmured, your eyes fixed on the TV screen.

James tightened his embrace a little, his soft voice responding to your murmur. “He would have wanted us to be happy, Y/N. And I believe he’s watching over us, wherever he is.”

The following weeks were marked by camaraderie and teasing between you and James. Your relationship evolved gently, blending tenderness and playfulness, turning each day into a shared adventure. Beyond the consultations and emergencies, there were these stolen moments where you teased each other, making daily life at the hospital much brighter.

Each morning, your drives to the hospital were filled with little jokes and lively discussions. James particularly enjoyed teasing you about your music choices, and you retaliated by commenting on his sometimes overly bold ties. These light-hearted exchanges allowed you to start the day with a smile.

At the hospital, you found moments to reconnect, whether it was for a quick coffee between consultations or to share an impromptu lunch in a quiet corner of the cafeteria. The exchanged glances, knowing smiles, and discreet yet meaningful touches all reinforced your connection.

House, of course, never missed an opportunity to tease you both gently. One day, while you were having lunch together, he approached with a sly smile on his face.

“So, you two, still playing cat and mouse?” he asked, pouring himself a cup of coffee.

“We prefer to call it chemistry,” you replied with a wink at James.

House raised an eyebrow, amused. “Chemistry, huh? Just be careful not to blow anything up like like Wilson and cheating.”

The following weeks were filled with camaraderie and playful teasing between you and James. Your relationship evolved slowly, mixing tenderness and playfulness, turning each day into a shared adventure. Beyond consultations and emergencies, there were these stolen moments where you teased each other, making daily life at the hospital much brighter.

Each morning, your drives to the hospital were punctuated with little jokes and lively discussions. James particularly enjoyed teasing you about your music choices, and you retaliated by commenting on his sometimes overly bold ties. These light-hearted exchanges allowed you to start the day with a smile.

At the hospital, you found moments to reconnect, whether for a quick coffee between consultations or to share an impromptu lunch in a quiet corner of the cafeteria. The exchanged glances, knowing smiles, and discreet yet meaningful touches all reinforced your connection.

One day, you decided to play a bit more daringly. Having discovered that James had a weakness for chocolate, you prepared a little surprise. You had found some special chocolates infused with aphrodisiac ingredients, and you were curious to see how he would react.

You waited for the right moment, choosing a day when you both had some free time. After lunch, you invited him to stop by your office for a sweet little break.

"I have a surprise for you," you announced, pulling a box of chocolates from your drawer.

James raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "A surprise, huh? I like surprises."

You handed him a chocolate with a mischievous smile. "Try this and tell me what you think."

He took the chocolate, looking curious, and put it in his mouth. From the first bite, you saw his expression change slightly, a glimmer of surprise passing through his eyes.

"It's… interesting," he said as he finished the chocolate. "There's something different about it."

You just smiled, holding back your little secret. A few minutes later, you noticed a subtle change in his behavior. His eyes grew darker, his posture more assured.

"Y/N," he said in a deeper voice, moving closer to you. "What did you give me?"

You laughed softly, taking a small step back. "Just a bit of chocolate. Why? Didn't you like it?"

He stared at you intensely, a half-smile on his lips. "Oh, I loved it. But I think you knew exactly what you were doing."

Before you could respond, he pulled you by the waist and drew you close. His burning gaze never left yours, and you felt your heart race. The weeks of teasing and flirting had led to this moment.

"James, we're in the hospital," you whispered, trying to maintain some semblance of control.

"I know," he replied, his voice husky. "But I can't wait any longer."

He kissed you with a new intensity, his hands exploring your back with a possessiveness that made you shiver. You let yourself sink into him, your own desires taking over. The door to his office closed behind you, isolating your little world from the rest of the hospital.

James lifted you and placed you on his desk, his lips never leaving yours. Papers and pens fell to the floor, forgotten. His hands slipped under your blouse, and you felt a shiver of pleasure course through your body.

"You've driven me crazy, Y/N," he murmured against your skin. "And now, you'll face the consequences."

He kissed you briefly, and you wanted more. You opened your mouth, and your tongues met. You felt his hands grip your hips and shift your body on the desk, pulling you closer to him. His tongue explored your mouth as if he, too, enjoyed the blend. He pulled away slightly and looked down at your outfit, which revealed your hardened nipples, due to the passionate kiss and the moisture that had dampened your clothing.

"Fuck, Y/N," he breathes out before lifting you off the desk, your legs wrapping around his torso. He kisses you again, much more fiercely, as if you were his prey. His tongue battles to dominate yours, and you give in, wanting him to take control. He presses you against the office door and takes the opportunity to ensure it’s locked. He kisses you as if you had always done this and as if it were your last kiss. You moan against his lips as his hand moves between your thighs, massaging them before sliding into your pants and removing your clothing until your panties fall to the floor. You try to close your legs, the cool air hitting your core, while his lips trail from your mouth to your jaw, then down your neck as if he’s devouring every part of you.

His kisses are wet, and you hear him moan before pressing his body against yours, you feel his erection.

"Are you sure ?" He says before completely losing control and he rubs his covered erection against your exposed pussy "mmh", you moan being the only noise you can make to respond and nod at him. He pulls down his pants and boxers at the same time. The shy one, you would have stopped him. He pulls the bottom of your t-shirt up to your chest and his cock brushes against yours making you moan his name.

"Moan my name again. Otherwise I wouldn't give you what you want" and he rubs his cock again between your thighs, his fingers place one of your locks of hair behind your ear, then go down all the way down your body to your clitoris.

“Wet, just for me” and he presses his fingers against my skin a little more before stroking my clit with his thumb. Long ones caresses, giving me pleasure but increasing my impatience. You feel his whole hand between your thighs, his fingers continuing to caress you relentlessly.

“James, please” you moan.

“Fuck” he removes his fingers and thrusts into you, making you moan in surprise and pleasure. The door is locked, and House music prevents everyone from hearing you. He pulls out of you only to come in again, harder, you moan and bury your head in the crook of his neck, clinging to his t-shirt.

“Y/N, I want to feel your hands on me” he moaned before helping you take off his t-shirt and swinging it behind him. He still carries you, he pulls you away from the door and suddenly slams me on top of him, entering me again. The pain in my back and the lust flowing through your veins makes all your sensations stronger. He speeds up his movements and your nails dig into his shoulders. He goes faster and nibbles your skin, in your neck, your chest, anywhere your skin is exposed.

“James, I-I’m going to-” you’re cut off by another moan that leaves your mouth. He understands what you are trying to tell him and growls "Go on princess, I'm waiting for that", you feel your body reach its climax and he gives one last thrust, harder than all the others while his hands massage your thighs.

You sigh in pleasure and release all the tension your body was holding and cum. He doesn't stop moving back and forth and waits for you to finish. You seek his mouth and kiss it, he moans into yours and still doesn't stop, you feel him cum inside you and he parts into your lips to blow.

“Y/N, are you-” he moans again, the sound leaving his mouth and the music turning you on, you grind my hips against his and he moans louder and louder. You have control.

“Y/N – don’t stop” you continue to move your hips and with each movement you sigh in pleasure. You feel him finish completely and he catches his breath heavily his head still in your neck. He slowly pulls out of you and gently places me back on the desk. He quickly puts his boxers back on before putting your panties back on. You get off the desk and put your clothes back on correctly. He stares at you through his loving eyes and smiles viciously before saying "we'll do this again whenever you want but no need for an aphrodisiac" and he winks at me with a kiss on the forehead.

The tension of the past intimacy transforms into a soft and tender atmosphere. You stay embraced for a moment, savoring the warmth of your bodies and the deep connection you’ve just shared. James shifts slightly, looking at you with infinite tenderness.

"How are you feeling?" he asks softly, caressing your cheek.

"I feel… good," you reply with a smile, your eyes shining with happiness.

You spend a few more minutes talking softly, your laughter and murmurs blending with the gentle light of the office. But the reality of the hospital eventually catches up with you. James stands up first, helping you to sit up and tidy your clothes.

"We should get back to work," he says with a smile, but his eyes reveal a desire to prolong the moment.

You quickly rearrange yourselves, trying to regain a professional appearance. Once outside the office, you share one last knowing glance before returning to your respective tasks. The day continues, but the excitement and warmth of your intimacy remain with you, giving you renewed energy, knowing that he was going to get his revenge.

#fanfiction #dr house #doctor house #house md #housemd #rsl #robert sean leonard #james wilson #dr james wilson #dr james wilson x reader #james wilson x reader #james wilson x you

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flnpushy · 5 months

Text

Helios: Angels Last Birth

13 months ago…. Helios Birthing Center

“Angel do you choose to accept this experiment for your last required mission on Helios?” Kara said.

“What are the details.” Angel responded.

“The details are as follows.” Kara said beginning the list…… “You will be impregnated…

12 Months Later

“We are 1 month away from the birth.” Kara said to Angel. “How do you feel?”

“This is the biggest belly I’ve ever had and will ever have again, But I Am excited to be a part of this experiment.” Angel replied.

The Final Birth for Angel

Kara had meet angel years prior when she was giving birth for the first time. Kara and Angel had also been part of a prior experiment together. Now it was time for Angels 3rd and final baby required to complete her service to the Mission. Angel agreed to do an experiment as it granted her access to a full-time position at the Facility. If she did not she would have been retired out of the Helios Mission and would have to find a new career option. Angel knew however she wanted to stay with helios and stay with her friend Kara. Kara now a scientist was in the lead of Angels experiment. Angel would be granted a position with the Helios Facility upon completion of this birth experiment. The guidelines of the experiment were as follows:

The Class 152 Impregnation experiment…..

This experiment is to be conducted under close supervision by scientific staff. The Woman to be impregnated must be small framed, have a strong will power, and must be patient. She is to birth A large baby under close supervision of Scientific staff. This experiment has been conducted on Alpha Centauri, and Martian soil. The gravity of Helios is significantly less, causing less help for the birthing mother. The plot is as follows:

Outcomes for this experiment and the breakdown are as follows. The mother is to birth a large baby 25-30 pounds in womb. The baby under the Class 152 type will gain 1-1.5 pounds per day during the birthing process. The baby will be born head first. No mechanical assistance is permitted, the mother must deliver the baby under her own will power. All data must be collected and stored for future reference. The babies head will have a large circumference, making crowning and leading up to crowning very difficult. Anticipated birthing time: 1-2 weeks

The day had arrived. Angel was in her room and getting ready to report to Kara’s Garden 150. This birth garden was designed for experimental births and was equipped only for this matter. Angel looked forward to this birth. It was her final birth, and she was excited to find a position within the Helios facility. Her goal was to work with Kara directly. Angel Arose from bed and began walking toward the door to report to the garden. In her large belly she could feel the baby squirming and kicking.

“Little man wants out.” She whispered.

She went out the door and made her way by scooter toward the experimental wing of the facility. Angel was ready.

Angel arrived at Kara’s office.

“Good morning beautiful, are we ready for this?” Kara asked.

“Yes, I am ready for this baby to be out of my belly, he’s active in there today!” Angel said.

“Ok lets go through the basics on your health and wellness and lets get this show in the road. We are going to have a long week!” Kara said.

“Do you think it will take longer?” Angel asked.

“Personally I bet we are looking at 1 and a half to two weeks to get this baby out of you.” Kara said.

“Whew!” Angel said. “Lots of pushing in my future.”

“Oh its going to be!” Kara said. ‘Lets get you in and ready.”

Kara led Angel into the entry way of Garden 150. She scanned in and the airlock doors opened. Upon opening a beautiful garden environment was revealed. This truly was the ultimate in birthing facilities. Angel was excited to birth her last baby here in absolute luxury. The facility was lavish. A jungle scene with a small stream, koi pond, and flowing trees and foliage. The smell was fresh and natural. The facility had all birthing facilities like any normal garden, accept this one had state of the art tech for measuring data, metrics, and recording data.

Kara had angel sit upon a birthing bed.

“Ok hun, open up.” Kara said.

Angel laid back and spread her legs. Kara took a small device, and with a gloved hand inserted it up inside of Angels vagina. This probe had a camera and was set to record the baby during birth. The next item of business was the babies position and the injection that would skip labor and dilate Angel. Kara did the injection. 5 minutes passed.

“Ok lets take a look.” Kara said. She grabbed a long tube and attached a suction cup looking device to the end of it. Kara inserted the tube into Angels vagina and continued to insert until it stopped. Kara tapped a button that turned on a camera at the end of the tube.

“Ok you are dilated and I see the top of the babies head.” Kara said.

Kara pressed the tube farther in. She placed the suction cup upon the unborn babies head, and then withdrew the tube.

“Ok that will be it for instrumentation for now. This will measure the weight if baby, the vitals, and your pushing efforts.” Kara said.

Angel smiled and made eye contact with her good friend.

“Ok hun, your ready to push momma!” Kara said.

Angel smiled and laid back on the bed.

“Ok first contraction is coming, and I’m getting data.” Kara said.

Readout: Baby healthy, head first, weight 27 pounds, gaining 1 pounds per day.

“Were on our way.” Kara said

“My last baby.” Angel said.

“Yes, your last one hun.” Kara replied. “Its not going to be the easiest one, I can assure that.”

“It’s ok, it’s my last one.” Angel said.

It was time for Angel to begin her pushing. A contraction came and Angel gave the first push. Kara begin receiving data, and the birth had begun. Angel started out on her back with the first few contractions, but quickly switched to a birth stool. Kara noticed that the baby was active at first, but then seemed to relax and let things happen. For such a large baby, Angel need all the help from within that she could in order to get it out of her belly.

12 hours passed. Angel actively pushed while Kara tended to her and the data. 12 hours of pushing had moved the babies head through the cervix, but that was all. It was time to inspect. Angel moved to a birth bed and Kara began a visual check. Kara opened Angels opening, It was still tight yet and the head wasn’t in view. She put her finger in about 2 inches and still felt nothing. After 12 hours, not much had happened. Angel kept on.

Another 6 hours passed. Not much. 6 more hours advanced. Nothing much. 1 day into pushing and nothing to show for it.

Kara made a check, at 30 hours in. Finally about 2 inches inside her opening, she could feel the top of babies head.

“Ok we have progress, the head is about 2 inches inside of you.” Kara said.

“Ohhhh it feels big…..” Angel said. “I can feel him squirming in there.”

“Its good that he’s active.” Kara replied.

“Yeah he can help mamma get him out.” Angel said.

Angel continued her pushing efforts for another 5 hours. She began noticing that the baby was squirming and helping less and less as she moved it towards her opening. The vital signs were ok, but the baby stopped its helping efforts. Without them it would be an all out struggle for Angel to birth the baby. Still she continued.

It was now coming into the second day of pushing. The head was still one full inch inside Angels opening. It had taken 12 hours to advance the baby one inch closer. Still not crowning. Now with the baby not helping at all, Angel was pushing a 28 pound baby through her. No easy task. 12 more hours passed. Angel was now side laying. Finally after almost 3 days of pushing. A sign of progress was about to happen.

Angel made a huge push, Kara watched her opening in anticipation. As Angel bore down, Kara could see a tiny bulge starting to happen, the labia opened ever so slightly. The push ended and the bulge disappeared. This continued to happen with every push, until 3 hours later, a tiny tuft of hair could be seen for a brief moment.

“Good girl, I see a head!” Kara said.

“Thank goodness he’s starting to come out!” Angel said as she exhaled.

“Yes Angel you are doing it.” Kara said.

Angel continued to push, making headway little by little. Each push now made Angels opening bulge. The head was just inside. Each contraction was lasting several minutes and Angel was working hard to push with them. The baby wasn’t progressing much though. The babies lack of movement, the large head, and chunky 28 pound body was making progress very slow.

The next contraction and pushes Brought the head more into the opening, Kara could clearly see a tiny sliver of the head sitting in the opening. When the push stopped the sliver retracted back into the opening. The baby was now entering the yo-yo phase. And It was going to take some serious pushing and stretching to get it out.

Meanwhile Kara was working with the data. Measuring the pushing force and reading the vitals of the baby within. It was all up to Angel and the baby to complete this birth. With the baby barely moving, Angel was doing a bulk of the work. Still each push went on. Another 6 hours passed. Another day had progressed. Kara now noted that the baby had gained weight once more. The baby was now 29 pounds and still well inside Angels belly. It was only getting harder to push out. Another few hours passed. There was a slight breakthrough. The head was now getting bigger in the opening as Angel was slowly beginning the stretching process. Each push brought the head into view. At the end of the push however, the head continued to slip back in.

Kara continued to take notes, as the action was now happening faster. Kara’s notes are as follows:

10:50:30 Push, can see head in opening

10:51:10 push ends and head slips back in

10:55:12 Pushing, head appears

10:55:30 tiny slip-in but pushing

10:56:01 head slips back in

Kara watched as Angel kept pushing. The head made more and more appearances with each push. However it continued to slip back in. This continued for 4 hours, until finally Angel was able to hold the baby up against her opening with each push. More stretching needed to happen, but it was progress seeing more of the head with each push.

Angel pushed, this time the head stretched into the opening nicely. However as Angel bore down the baby suddenly wiggled its head, this caused the head to recess back in. The baby was now active, but it wasn’t helping Angel progress. Rather it was working to get back in her belly. Angel pushed again. The head pressed tightly against her un-stretched opening. She held it there as best she could, the baby once again wiggled, the sudden wiggle had the baby recessing back inside once more.

“Looks like the baby is refusing to fit through.” Kara said. “Your not stretched enough yet.”

“What do I do?” Angel asked.

“Not much you can do, just keep pushing the head against the opening, it will slowly stretch open.” Kara said.

“Was there a clause in this experimental contract for mechanical assistance?” Angel asked.

“No, there wasn’t, Its all up to you to get the baby out.” Kara said.

“Ok.” Angel said

“Its going to be ok.” Kara said. “You’ll get it out.”

“This is the biggest baby I’ve ever had in me since I arrived at Helios.” Angel said concerned.

“Yes it is, but birthing this baby will grant you retirement from birthing or scientific status.” Kara said. “You could join me doing experiments.”

“Yes that would be ahhhhh!” Angel said as a contraction began.

Angel pulled back her legs and began to push her big belly began to contract. Below she began to bulge. The babies head was coming closer as she continued to push. Angel held the push as long as she could but the baby did not show. She tried again. This time she bulged more and the babies head came into view. The push ended. However this time something changed. Instead of the babies head retracting back inside. The head remained in view in the opening. Angel was beginning to stretch. Kara could see the head wiggling from side to side inside on angels opening. It was the baby attempting to wiggle free of Angels vagina.

“It looks like the little man is helping.” Kara said

“Yes, I can feel him wiggling against my opening.” Angel replied. “Its nice he’s helping in there.”

Angel pushed again with a new contraction. This time the babies head remained in the same spot and didn’t budge forward at all. The little head wiggled once more as angel pushed to attempt to free it. The push ended, but this time the baby slid back in and the vagina closed. Angel waited till the next opportunity and pushed hard. The head came right back up to the opening and began wiggling again trying its hardest to free itself from the clenches of angels womb. However the baby was simply too big, and not strong enough to free itself. It would have to wait till angel stretched and pushed to get free.

The head remained visible but refused to budge for the next 5 contractions. Angel was trying to stretch open, but the progress was very slow. Angel was trying hard but the head wasn’t budging. Another 30 minutes passed with no forward progress. Angels opening was no farther stretched than before. The head was visible in the opening. Kara could see the dark hair on the babies head just stuck there in angels vagina. She could see the head wiggling back and forth inside trying to get free. Angel was pushing, but not movement was happening. The 29 pound baby was clearly stuck.

After another hour of trying to move the baby. It was clear that changes needed to be made. Kara suggested that Angel get active and walk around to try and help move the baby inside to free it. Angel stood up and let her huge belly hang down. She had been laying down now for many hours attempting to free the baby. Upon standing up her vagina closed, sealing the baby back inside. Angel was discouraged, but kept at it. Angel paced around the area, taking in the surroundings while working with contractions to attempt to get the baby to move. Each time she pushed Kara could see the babies head appear in the opening, before being sealed back in at the end of the push. Angel continued activity for another 4 hours without much progress. The babies head seemed to be simply too large to progress any farther.

Now approaching 4 days into the pushing. The 29 pound baby still remained stuck in Angel. It was time to get more aggressive with the pushing as the baby was still gaining weight inside of her. The baby needed to make progress. Angel laid back on the birthing stations bed and pulled her legs back. Kara attached stirrups to hold here legs in a better position. The table was then inverted so that Angel didn’t have to fight uphill to push the baby. Pushing was now getting serious. Kara got another data update. The baby was now 29.5 pounds inside angel. It was time to get this baby out before birthing became nearly impossible.

Angel began pushing in rhythm. Pushing even without the assistance of a helping contraction. Angel was forcing her body to the maximum to attempt to free the baby from her belly. Kara began coaching and taking data at the same time. The baby continued to slide back in after each push with little forward progress. Finally after an hour of this, angel started to stretch a bit more allowing more of the head to seen. The tear drop opening shape was now forming, meaning that the head was making some progress. Kara decided to switch angel back to a birth stool for added comfort. The head was now much larger in the opening. Another 3 hours of pushing passed until the head moved farther. The progress was painfully slow, but was happening. The head now bulged out a bit, but angels skin was still tightly clenched around the huge head. 2 more hours passed of constant pushing. Finally with one big push the skin slipped around the rest of the head. After almost 5 days of pushing the head was free. The babies head as massive and dangling from angel. Angel needed to stand as her legs could take no more of the birth stool. As she stood the head made it so she couldn’t close her legs at all. Angel waddled around a bit. The babies head turtled back a bit sucking itself back. The baby wanted back inside, but the head was much too large to do so. Still the baby tried, but wasn’t successful. The rotation began. It was now time to birth the shoulders. Luckily with the genetic make up of the experiment this wasn’t going to be as hard as the head. Sitting back on the birth stool angel began pushing hard once more. The rotation of the baby continued. The baby was active. Constantly wiggling trying to escape. After about 4 more hours the baby finally slipped out.

“Good job angel.” Kara said. “You did it friend.”

Two weeks later:

Angels last birth was now over. Now she could choose to retire, or potentially take a job at the facility. What happens is to be continued……

#birth #birth kink #giving birth #pregnant #crowning #pregnancy #birth denial #birth story #scifi birth

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