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zepskies · 2 days ago

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@lamentationsofalonelypotato

I'm so excited for you, my friend!! Thank you for diving in. 🥰

I like this line, because it's what made Dean stop. In my head I feel like this version of Dean has pushed away so many people and the reader is the first person in a long time to genuinely say that she was "worried" about him, and it strikes something in his chest because he couldn't remember the last time it happened. That's the headcanon in my head anyway lol.

Oh yeah, that's a totally accurate observation, poor Dean. 🥲 He hasn't allowed himself to be "worried about" in a long time, since he and Sam started up their own lives.

Also the spice was.... 😱🌶️🔥. I literally cannot write smut to save my life, but you always write it so well! I also liked that you didn't do it as intense as omegaverse usually is, because we both know how it can be 👀

ahaha thank youuu 😘 It's really not easy for me, but I write it when I feel the story warrants it. And totally, the more subtle approach was what I was going for loll! I don't think I could write the aggressive smut that omegaverse fics tend to be. 🤪

OH MY WORD DEAN SHUT UP! I promise it's okay! She loves you and she can see that you're not a bad person because you literally have been nursing her back to health with her broken ankle 😭 Not to mention you guys are fated! She's not going to let you go no matter what you do.

Lol RIGHT?! How many times do we have to go over this, Dean???? 😭

But again... on brand for Dean to hate himself and to think he's not good enough -sigh- just means that you get to spend more time wrapped up with him trying to convince him 😊😉. I also believe that Dean loves intimac, that he does crave that connection with someone, not to mention I still love what you do in your Midnight Espresso series with Dean being a little touch starved for non-sexual touch. I feel like you've also implied this here and it is marvelous!

This is where I have to beat down the "not worthy" aspect of Dean's personality when it comes to love and intimacy. 😭 But I SO agree with you -- he craves it, even though he doesn't feel like he deserves it half the time. That's a big theme in Midnight Espresso, so I love you so much for enjoying that aspect in that series and in this one. 🥹💓💓

I'm literally cackling. I can hear Dean saying this to his significant other. Meeting Baby for the first time holds the same place in his heart as meeting Sam for the first time 🤣 ALSO, I wasn't ready for the palm kiss. Palm kisses and forehead kisses DESTROY me.

LOL this part of the scene was so vivid in my mind -- I have no doubt he'd be just like this when his girl meets his Baby. 🤣🤣 Oh same. I LOVE hand kisses and forehead kisses. They're so wholesome. 🥹

I like that this was an alternate ending to the dumpster fire that was the end of Supernatural. That it's Dean and his girl out on the open road listening to a Led Zeppelin song holding hands in the front seat of Baby was just beautiful in the best way and a perfect ending to this mini-series my wonderful friend!! I am going to miss this couple so much, but it really was a fitting end for them 🥰

Honestly that's the biggest compliment I could get on this story! 💕💕 It's the two of them riding into the subset to some Zep tunes, on their way to see Sam and his new little family. I might come back to write their little reunion, but until then, I'm so glad you've enjoyed this snowy, angsty ride. 😘❄️💜💜

Against the Wind - Part 4

Pairing: Alpha!Dean Winchester x F. Omega!Reader

Summary: You wake up in a strange alpha’s cabin in the middle of a snowstorm, all with a busted ankle. He holds shadows in his eyes, even though his hands are gentle. There are iron shutters around his heart, even though he saved you. You might just save him in return.

AN: The grand finale...

Song Inspo: “Against the Wind” by Bob Seger

Word Count: 3.4K

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only! Smut, knotting, claiming, fluff and feels.

Series Masterlist || Bingo Masterlist

Part 4: Running to Live

His cold hands are warming on your skin as he slides them underneath your sweater. They move smoothly up your back, bunching up the material. You break from his kiss only to help him get the sweater off you, followed closely by his pants.

Your sweatpants slide down your legs with just a sharp tug, baring most of your body to his gaze. His eyes drag over your exposed neck and shoulders, your breasts cupped in your bra, down to your panties and bare thighs.

A shiver runs through you, both from his heated gaze, and from being exposed to the cooler air. Even with the fire going and the heater running in the cabin, the frigid air outside is unforgiving.

You have no problem with the way Dean guides you down from the chaise to take advantage of your nest on the floor, right in front of the fire. He draws you into a sensuous kiss, sucking your lower lip into his mouth and grazing with teeth.

“Were you nesting, Omega?” he teases, between the sinful meetings of his lips with yours. You hum your affirmation before his tongue swipes across your lower lip, seeking entrance.

You open yourself to him in more ways than one; you slip your hands across his naked shoulders and explore the smooth planes of muscle, the dips and softness in between. You encourage him to lower down, to cover you with the length and broadness of his frame. His weight is a welcome one between your thighs and against the softness of your body.

“Was worried about you,” you whisper a confession against his lips. Dean briefly pauses, meeting your eyes.

“Thanks for waiting up,” he says, with a hint of a smile.

Your lips curve upwards in return. You reach up to caress his cheek, feeling the prickling of his stubble. Your fingers thread into his hair, and you pull him back down for a devouring kiss.

Dean’s brows furrow as he holds you to him, wanting to feel every part of your skin against his. His calloused fingers map their way down your side, and across your back to unhook your bra. His lips veer away from yours to burn a wet, heated trail along your neck. His teeth come out to graze your skin, down your throat, down the lovely valley between your breasts.

“Dean,” you gasp, encouraging him when his hand cups one of your breasts. He explores the other with his mouth, teasing a pebbled nipple with his tongue. Your fingers tighten in his hair, your thighs rubbing together between the cage of his knees in the mess of blankets. Already you feel slick forming at the apex of your thighs and slipping down in between.

“Beautiful,” he murmurs against your skin. “Fucking beautiful, you know that?”

You can’t help but smile. Your face warms either from the fire dancing shadows across your bodies, or from him, his attention, his warmth, and the heat in his eyes when they meet your again. His hand slides down your body, over your hip and squeezing your thigh as he opens you up further for him.

“Tell me what you want, Omega.” While I still have control, his tone implies. His voice is gravel and sin while his hand moves swiftly and smoothly up the inside of your thigh.

“Touch me,” you breathe.

Nodding, he hooks his fingers around the hem of your panties and slides them down. You help him kick them off. Afterward, his thumb brushes over your mound, making you sharply inhale and squeeze his shoulders encouragingly. His fingers dip inside your wet heat, his brows raising with a smirk, as he feels the sheer amount of your slick already coating his digits.

“Fuck. This all for me, baby?” he remarks.

You hold onto the back of his neck with both hands as you nod, biting your lip. Your hips begin to cant against his hand on reflex, urging him to touch you.

“Alpha, please…” you implore, in a ragged whisper. He swallows your plea with a ravaging kiss, but he still gives you what you want. His thumb circles your clit, earning a moan from you into his mouth.

Soon, two of his fingers plunge slowly inside you, working you open, drawing more gasps and shudders of pleasure from your body. His length continues to strain hard against your thigh, but for him, it’s worth it to draw every sound, every time your body writhes and arches against him, craving release.

With a few more purposeful strokes, your inner walls clamp tight on his hand, and a flood of slick coats his knuckles even more. You gasp his name, your hands squeezing his arms just as tight as your pussy around his fingers.

Your skin is beginning to get dewy with sweat, and he kisses some of it off you when he trails down your chest. You stroke down his arms, down his back, whatever you can reach as you catch your breath. But then, his name falls from your lips with a firmer tone.

Dean raises his head, and you gently push at his chest. His brows furrow in confusion, only for it to be replaced with a smile of surprise when you curl a thigh over his hip and guide him onto his back. His head just manages to fall on one of your pillows, but he still utters a small grunt. You giggle down at him, bowing to meet him for a kiss.

He smirks and holds onto your hips, playfully squeezing your ass. “My wily omega.”

“Thought I was your cheeky omega,” you tease.

He snorts. “That too.”

You giggle some more as you treat him to the same path of open-mouthed kisses down his neck. Except this time, you hook a hand behind his neck, and you trail your tongue around his mating gland. You feel his jolt of surprise, as well as his instinctive growl of pleasure in response to his mate. Or at least, not yet…

His heart pounds in his chest.

“Omega,” he says, a warning not to tease as his grip tightens on your hips.

The command in his voice makes you shiver, but you smile and nuzzle his cheek in affection. You kiss your way down his body, playing special attention to his nipples, his stomach, the soft V and the happy trail of light brown fuzz leading you down between his hips.

Your fingers slide down his hardened desire through his underwear, earning a grunt from him, along with a shifting of his body against the blankets. Your lips curve as you nuzzle him there as well, letting your lips drag across his impressive length.

His fingers tangle in your hair when you hook your nails around the waistband and free his cock from its confines. His boxers join the rest of your clothes somewhere, and finally you get to see all of him, as much as he takes in all of you. Your hand wraps around his girth, your thumb circling around the sensitive, weeping head of it. Dean groans, a sound from deep in his chest.

You don’t know this, but it’s been a while since anyone but his own hand has touched him. That’s not the only reason his body has been calling to yours, but it plays a part in how fucking good it feels, and how much more he wants you.

He feels your intentions when your hand moves down his shaft in a teasing caress, your fingers tracing around his knot. A shudder rattles down his spine, makes his desire burn hotter in the pit of his stomach.

He can’t fucking take it anymore. He needs you, needs to be inside you. Needs to take you the way his instincts demand.

He grasps your shoulder before you put your mouth on him. You blink up at him, with a question forming on your lips, but he hefts you up onto his chest by your arms. He cages you there with a kiss filled with abject need.

“I can’t. Can’t wait anymore,” he says. He drags his fingers through your folds and earns another moan from your when he finds your clit. “You ready for me, Omega? Need my knot?”

“Yeah,” you nod, agreeing against his lips. “Need you, Alpha—”

No sooner had the words escaped your lips, when Dean rolls you back underneath him. But this time, he guides you onto your stomach, then raises up your hips, until you’re on your hands and knees. You catch your breath as you regain your bearings, shooting an incredulous smile over your shoulder at Dean. He smirks back at you, but his gaze is intense, his pupils darkened with the alpha inside him.

Still, he soothes a hand down your back and steadies you with a hold on your hip. You feel him slot himself behind you, guiding his cock at your entrance. His chest presses hotly against your back.

“Last chance, Omega,” he says, his voice tight with restraint.

You look back at him again over your shoulder, your mouth threatening to frown. You reach back and sink your fingers into his hair with a sharp tug. “Do it.”

He sinks into you with one smooth plunge. It’s a relief for both of you, your mingled moans echoing in the near silence. All that’s left is the sound of your quickening breaths, of skin against sweat-slick skin as you move together.

Dean brushes your hair away from your neck. He kisses and licks his way along your bare shoulder, and finally the back of your neck. You’re trembling by the time his lips find the sensitive flesh of your mating gland. It echoes with the pulsing from your core as he continues to drive into you.

“Alpha,” you gasp on reflex. You squeeze his arm; he has it wrapped tight around your middle. Your pleasure builds ever closer to that crescendo, especially as his thrusts become ragged, at an angle that zips delicious tingles through your core. “Close…just…I need…”

Dean isn’t so far gone. He hears you, and helps you, reaching his hand around to strum his fingers insistently on your clit, along with his final thrusts.

Finally, it tumbles you over. Your inner walls become impossibly tight around him as he draws out your second release—one that triggers his own. Dean groans into your ear; his knot swells and locks into place, and he spends himself deep inside you. He pants hot against your neck, but even though he fastens his lips there, he hesitates, once again making you shudder.

“Do it,” you repeat, in a coarse whisper. You’re close to tears. “Please. Want you, Alpha. Need you…”

Once again, he hears you.

His teeth sink into the back of your neck, making you cry out. But your pain is quickly overshadowed by a deepest pleasure, thrumming along with his.

Afterward, Dean holds you in his arms. The warm glow of the fire paints your skin in its light, despite the utter darkness in the rest of the house.

While you both wait for his knot to subside, you revel in the fact that you know he’s content. You can feel it through the newly formed bond. He traces random shapes in your skin, which still glistens with a fine sheen of sweat. The fire he stoked doesn’t help to cool you down, but you don’t care.

Nothing else matters but this. You turn your head toward him over your shoulder. He meets you there with a gentle kiss, much more gentle than any other you’ve shared before. It feels right.

When he parts from you, he presses another kiss to your forehead. Then he leans back a little and sighs. You feel his thumb trace the raw flesh around the claiming mark on your neck. A small shiver runs through your body. Maybe on another day, you’ll mark him in return.

“It’s too damn late,” he says, breaking the silence. “You realize that right?”

You shoot him a frown. “Too late for what?”

“For me to let you go,” he says.

His words both warm you and make you sad. Just how little does he think of himself?

“Dean,” you say, endeavoring to be patient. “You’re my true mate. Do you know how rare it is that we’ve actually found each other?”

Dean remains quiet.

“And after everything you’ve done for me,” you add, “how can I not think you’re a good man? How can I not think this is right?”

He seems to consider your question. His gaze briefly falls, then meets your eyes again.

“You don’t know me that well,” is his answer, with a wry turn of his lips.

You reach back to caress his cheek. “Then tell me. Tell me about, um…tell me about how you became a hunter. From your dad’s journal, I got the sense that it’s a family thing.”

A vendetta, you wanted to say, but you keep that thought inside.

Dean chuckles, dropping another kiss onto your shoulder. You feel the pleasurable rasp of his stubble.

“Yeah, more like a family business,” he says.

He tells you why John Winchester started writing in that journal in the first place. Dean explains it in his own words, of what his family was before and after a demon broke into his brother’s nursery. Your heart continues to break for him, over and over, the more story he tells. Your shock can only reach new heights when he tells you about angels and demons and everything in between.

There are moments where he pauses, needing the time to find his words. He’s talked for so long that his knot finally softens, allowing you to withdraw from him, just to turn in his arms and be able to see his face. He bundles you in the blankets to keep you warm, but he also keeps you close, with a loose arm around your waist as he continues.

You sense that he’s not telling you everything. How could he? A lifetime of blood and wins and incredible losses; family gained, and family lost, endless saves, and so many near misses. You listen with rapt attention (and a lot of shock) to everything he can share, but your heart twinges when you see how he struggles to talk about his mother’s most recent death. Then his best friend Cas.

You realize that this man, for all his self-deprecation, is a hero. More so than you already knew.

“After the whole Chuck thing was done, I thought we’d just…go back to status quo. Me and Sam against the world, you know?” Dean says. He gives a rueful smile. “Then Sammy tells me he knocked up his mate.”

You smile. “You’re happy for him though.”

“Course I am,” Dean nods. “He never thought he’d get to have all that. A badass chick who can keep him on his toes, a house, the kid, the whole damn thing. He’s downright respectable again.”

His brotherly pride and his humor are tinged with something else though. You think you begin to understand. His losses have weighed him down, leaving him aimless and living in that in between, not unlike the ghosts he used to hunt. You know the feeling.

You thread your fingers with his, earning his attention.

“You can have that too, you know,” you say. “I mean, I don’t want to skip ahead, but I feel like things are going well here, despite the whole busted ankle thing.”

Dean slowly smiles, shaking his head. He brings your hand up to his lips.

“Okay, enough about my Hallmark movie life. What about you?” he asks.

So you tell him.

You two continue to share and explore, both in words and with your bodies, until morning comes.

It’s another week in the cabin before Dean insists on helping you down the mountain. Your ankle has gotten a little better, but at this point, you need to see a doctor. It takes a couple of days, going as slow as you need to. He ends up carrying you for most of the way anyway. You tell him over and over that he doesn’t have to, but your alpha is stubborn.

Once he gets you back to the city, you two take a shuttle to the nearest hospital. X-rays are taken, and you get a new cast for your officially fractured ankle. At the very least, you don’t need surgery. You’re able to call your mom from there and let her know where you’ve been, that you’re all right, and best of all…that you’ve found your mate.

You cry along with her on the phone, this time for a good reason. The best reason.

When you’re eventually released from the hospital, Dean picks you up in a sleek, black Chevy that has your eyes wide.

He grins at the look on your face. “Hey, sweetheart. Come meet my Baby.”

He parks the car and keeps the heater running while he comes around to you in swift strides. He takes your crutches and slides them into the backseat, then helps you into the passenger seat.

“It’s beautiful, but my God, how old is this thing?”

“She. She’s a she.”

“Oh, pardon me,” you say in amusement. “Do I have some competition here?”

Dean gives you a teasing smirk. “Well, technically, she’s been with me a lot longer than you.”

You scoff incredulously. He laughs and takes your hand, pressing a kiss into your palm. You discreetly study him and marvel at how much lighter he seems. You don’t know how much is because of this, what your hand in his symbolizes, and how much is because he’s reunited with something important to him.

“It’s okay, Omega mine,” he says, with a measure of desire in his eyes. “From now on, you’re my priority.”

Your spine prickles with the same arousal you can feel from him through the bond. You lean across the way and share a thorough kiss.

Until a horn honks loudly from behind. You both jolt, but Dean’s face falls into annoyance. He shoots up a choice finger at the car behind him in the rearview mirror. You laugh as he begins to peel out of the curved pick-up and drop-off zone in front of the hospital.

“Where are we going, Dean?” you ask, still smiling in amusement.

“Wherever we damn well please.” He turns to you with a hint of a smile reforming on his lips. “Want me to take you back home? We can sort out the logistics on, uh…well, this.”

You think about it. He poses a good idea, but at the same time, you’re not quite ready for this part of the adventure to end.

“How long has it been since you’ve seen Sam?” you ask.

Dean blinks at your question. He whistles lowly. “About a year. Jesus, since my nephew was born.”

You smile and reach over, resting your hand on his thigh.

“Let’s go see him, then,” you say. “I want to meet your family. Then you can meet mine.”

After that, you two can figure out the rest, like where to live, and how you’ll live.

Dean raises a brow. “Really? That’s like, a thirteen-hour drive.”

You shrug. “I’ve always wanted to go on a real road trip. Can we get some food first though? I’m starving.”

He laughs and nods as he stops the car at a red light.

“What do you know? A woman after my own heart,” he says. His amusement eases into a gentler smile the longer he stares at you. You smile back, and you give into the urge to lean in again, meeting your lips with his. He brushes your cheek tenderly with his thumb.

“I know what this needs,” he says lowly. Your brows draw together in a silent question.

He pulls away to reach into the side compartment along the driver door. He fishes out a cassette tape labelled Zeppelin IV. You bite your lip and try not to say anything smartassed.

Damn, this man is old school.

He skips ahead until he finds Track 7, just as the light turns green. A melodious guitar riff fills the car as he turns onto the main road with your hand wrapped in his.

Made up my mind to make a new start.

Going to California with an aching in my heart…

AN: And that's all, folks! 🥹 I truly hope you enjoyed Against the Wind!

Like I said in a recent update, I have more stories in store for you guys. January 3 will be Part 1 of Outlander -- sequel to The Honorable Choice -- a Western AU with Dean as our resident cowboy! I'll post a sneak peek on that one soon.~

But in the meantime, I hope you'll let me know what you thought of ATW! 💜💜

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godmadeaterribleerror · 3 days ago

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Dreams of Love - A No Love Lost Bonus Chapter

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Read on A03!

Author's Note: Made it a Hughie and Annie baby. Named it Joel because I’m hilarious and Annie would sooner eat glass than name her son Billy.

Chapter Title from She’s Got A Way by Billy Joel

Word Count: 7.5k

Summary/Warnings: Request from my love @deansbbyx ! You and Ben have to babysit. Takes place ten months post-series.

Tags: Soldier Boy/Supe!Female Reader, canon divergence, tooth-rotting fluff, Ben being old, Dad Ben, pre-established relationship, so much horniness (would we expect anything less?)

“Where the hell did Annie get a baby from.”

You sigh, giving Ben a flat look. “Her vagina, Benjamin. That’s where most of them pop out, you know.”

Ben scowls, shooting you a glare that really only makes your whole body warm and soft. “Shut the fuck up, brat, you know what I meant-“

“I don’t think I did, Pretty Boy. I think you need to start explaining where you think babies come from-“

You’re cut off as Ben pulls you right to his chest, dropping his brow to yours with a smirk.

“You know damn well that I know where babies come from, Sunshine.” He drawls, and he’s really warm, and he smells so good, and his muscles are flexing around you, and his keeping his mouth just far enough away that you can’t kiss him but God you want to-

Ben-

You need something, darling? Need me to fuck you dumb right here, fill you up with my cock and remind you how fucking good we are at baby making?

You swallow, unable to tear your gaze away from his darkened, lust-blown eyes. He’s starving for you, and you can feel it everywhere—you can’t even tell where your own thirst for him begins and his hunger for you ends—but you cannot have sex right now. There just isn’t the time, and it’s not like Ben’s going anywhere, but fuck, he’s so handsome and he’ll taste like strawberries and maple syrup from breakfast, and you can feel how hard he is, pressing against your thigh-

“MM’s going to be here soon,” you whisper, fidgeting with the collar of Ben’s shirt to give your fingers something to do that isn’t wrapping around Ben’s dick. “And Ryan needs to go to school. I can drive him if you-“

Ben rolls his eyes, pressing a quick kiss to your brow before rising back up to his full height. “You’re not fucking driving. I’ll take Ryan, you get the Campbell baby.”

“But-“

He drawls your name, raising his brows. “You really fucking think MM is going to leave a fucking baby with me.”

“Yeah, I do.” You raise your chin slightly, holding Ben’s vaguely amused gaze. “He doesn’t hate you anymore-“

“Doesn’t matter if he still wanted to cut my fucking dick off or not, you’re the only one he’s leaving it with.”

“It had a name, Ben.” You say, wrapping your arms around his torso and leaning your chin on his chest. “And I’m sure MM would leave Joel with you if I ask him to.”

“But you’re not going to ask,” Ben says your name with a shrug, half picking you off the floor and cradling your head with one hand. “I’m bringing Ryan to school, you’re taking the baby. That’s it.”

You wrinkle your nose at him. “What if I promise you a blowjob to trade?”

He snorts, the radiance in his body bursting along your ribs. I’d get that blowjob anyway.

What if I promise breeding kink sex?

His eyes narrow. You think you’re real fucking smart.

I do. You smile at him, playing with the hair on his beard as you sway slightly in his arms. You say I am all the time. You call me clever, and beautiful, and perfect. And if you like me now, imagine how amazing I’d be when you fucked me good enough for to put a baby-

You win. Ben’s hand tightens on your waist, his eyes flash, his hunger almost explodes through his body, and it’s all the warning you get before his mouth is crashing down to yours. Your silent words are cut off with a deep growl from Ben’s chest as he walks you backwards to the kitchen counter, his hand tugging at your hair to deepen the kiss. Your lips part with a moan that Ben swallows, and you’re scratching at his back as he shoves a knee between your legs, and fuck, he’s so good-

Such a needy fucking brat. He mutters in your head, and you can only grind against him. You are fucking perfect, you’re a goddamn miracle, but that smart fucking mouth, Ben hums against your lips, starting to kiss a wet, sloppy line down your neck. It’s a fucking marvel, Sunshine. Going to fucking kill me, how goddamn beautiful you are, all fucking dumb and pretty when I touch you-

Fuck- You whine when he starts to suck on that one spot near your throat, and he chuckles against your skin. God, Ben-

Words, darling, use that smart mouth to beg-

Please, Benjamin, you ass-

You squeak as his hand pins you against his knee, and he draws back, scanning over your open, desperate expression with a wide smirk.

“Hi, Sunshine.” He drawls, tipping your chin back with a careful hand, and you might be drooling.

He’s so fucking handsome. It’s really not fair. This life looks painfully good on him, where all his love is still hot and bloody and focused in your body, but the resolve to hold you is just to hold you. There are no threats that you’d need protection from, but Ben’s still shielding you just a little all the time because that’s what he does. He loves and cares about you so violently you’d be worried he offers you too much, but all he’s ever asked for in return is this. Is you, already a little dazed from his hand dragging circles on the skin of your hips, your mouth hanging open as you take in his messy hair and relaxed expression. Everything in him glows when he presses his thumb on your lower lip and you moan, and when he leaves a small, almost chaste kiss on the space between your eyes the fire under your skin starts to push up, and you’re smoking, and he’s just grinning at you like a dick-

“You’re so fucking perfect, beautiful.” He mutters, and you don’t know why he’s not just fucking you. “When I get you alone again, you’re going to cum on my hands, then my face, then my cock when I fill you up. You’re going to feel me for fucking days, darling, and everyone will know that I always fuck you properly when you sit down at a meeting and fucking whine like a goddamn brat.”

You have a small, breathless speech in your head that’s mostly a plea of you are alone, right now, and it’s not possible for Ben to make you feel it for days, but God, you’d like to see him try, but you don’t get the chance to say it. You stare at Ben’s smug grin for a long second, taking steady breaths to try and regain just a little bit of control over your brain—which right now seems to only remember how to say Benjamin, please—and Ryan walks into the kitchen with his backpack and nervous, quick words.

“Ben, I lost my notebook-“ Ryan’s eyes widen at the scene before him—Ben still holding you on his knee, your whole body slack under his touch and very obvious, slightly glowing smoke rising from your skin—and he freezes in the doorway. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to- I’ll just go wait in the car-“

“Stay here, kid.” Ben helps you down, pressing one last, gentle kiss to your brow before turning his attention to Ryan. “Car’s not started yet, and your notebook’s under the couch.”

Ryan frowns. “How did it-“

“Shoved it there last night.” Ben grunts. His voice is really deep. His arm is still around you. He smells like pine and coffee and that earthy, salty thing that’s just Ben-

“Oh.” Ryan nods slowly. “Was it- I’m-“

“Don’t fucking apologize. It wasn’t in the way, I just had to do all the damn baby proofing-“

That snaps you out of it.

“You were baby proofing?”

Ben frowns down at you, something slightly sore wrapping over his skin. “Of course I was fucking baby proofing, I’m not going to let the damn thing just fuck around the house and die-“

You let just a little bit of your own, raw and infinite love leak into Ben’s body, rising up to press a kiss right over his beard and humming against his skin. Thank you, Benjamin. That was sweet.

I am not fucking sweet-

Of course not, Pretty Boy. What was I thinking. Your smile is wide and unrestrained as you lean back, holding Ben’s face between your hands. I love you.

I love you too, Sunshine. He rolls his eyes, dragging one of your hands to his mouth to kiss your knuckles. “I’ll get your notebook, Ryan. Go put on your shoes.”

“Okay.” Ryan bounces on his feet, looking between you and Ben with an open, anxious expression. “Is- Are Hughie and Annie bringing Joey here?”

“They’re on their honeymoon,” you explain, Ben scowls, and you shoot him a flat look. “Which someone is being a grumpy asshole about.”

“It’s fucking bullshit.” Ben grumbles, guiding you out of the kitchen. “We’ve been married for ten goddamn month and haven’t gone on our honeymoon. Why the hell do those pussies get to go first.”

“They’re not going first, Ben, they just actually planned their wedding instead of doing it spontaneously in a field-“

Ben rolls his eyes. “If we do that proper wedding shit, will you finally take some time off so I can fuck you on a beach?”

You flush, whacking Ben’s chest as Ryan looks around absent-mindedly, pretending not to hear. Benjamin-

The kid is used to it, Sunshine-

He shouldn’t be-

He’s fine. I think he’s got bigger fucking problems than me loving you like you deserve-

But-

“Ryan.” Ben grunts, tucking you a little further into his side and ignoring your death glare. He’s lucky you can’t burn his face off anymore. “You got an issue with me telling her I’m going to fuck her?”

“I, um- no?” Ryan shrugs, frowning at the air. “I guess I tune it out now, just because you do it kind of a lot and I- I dunno, I just expect it. Sorry-“

“Don’t say sorry, kid. You did good.” Ben shoots you a smug look, bright, hot pride inflating in his chest. You’re going to strangle him, then make out with his stupid, handsome, cocky face. “Shoes.”

Ryan nods and wanders to the door, and Ben looks so fucking proud of himself.

Benjamin William-

You barely get out your shared last name before Ben’s squeezing your hips, pulling you up into a long, open-mouth kiss that makes you moan loud and soft, your body molding right into his. Never should’ve told you my middle name, brat.

Could be worse. You mumble, smiling against his lips. I could tell Butcher.

He pulls back with narrowed eyes. You won’t.

Test me, Benjamin-

You tell Butcher, I’ll… Ben trails off between your heads, and you can feel a wired spike in his heart when he realizes he doesn’t have any believable threats anymore.

You’ll what? You raise your brows, giving him an overly sweet pout. Fuck me dumb? Make me beg? Throw me around until I’m a whiny, horny mess for your cock-

He slams back into you, hauling your body into his arms without even a stuttered breath and carrying you to the couch.

Christ on a fucking cross, Ben mutters your name between your heads, lowering himself to his knees before you as he kisses you back into the cushions. You’re so fucking perfect.

His tone is entirely reverent, so sincere it might kill you, and the pure devotion and fervor of his love in your body is enough to drive you mad.

Ben- His hand trails up your thigh, and you’d be embarrassed by your loud moan if it didn’t make Ben groan into your mouth, everything in him sparking and flaring. Fuck-

Later, Sunshine. He tips your chin back slightly, pressing a small kiss to the corner of your mouth right before he pulls away. “Stay here until I get home.”

You hum, taking his hand from your cheek and twisting his wedding ring around his finger with a small smile. “Don’t tell me what to do.”

He chuckles, leaning into one last, soft kiss before rising to his feet. “Wouldn’t fucking dream of it, darling. Tell me when MM drops off the kid.”

Tell you on the what, Benjamin?

I’m not fucking saying it.

Please?

You give him your sweetest smile, squeezing your hand on his knee and leaning into his touch, and he groans.

Smart fucking brat. He mutters, moving his hand back to tangle in your hair and tugging slightly, just enough to make your head tip back. Tell me on the Ben’o’phone, and I’ll fuck your mouth and cunt real good when I get home.

Deal. Thank you.

Don’t. He grumbles between your heads, but even as his hand leaves yours you can feel the power of his love, the rough affection that’s settled deeply and comfortably into his chest. “You think we’ve got all the shit-“

“MM’s going to bring most of it. And,” you nod to the floor, and Ben turns with a frown. “I bought a play pen. We can keep it after. For later. When I get that promised fucking.”

You see Ben’s hands curl into fists, he stands a little taller, and fuck, you’re right at eye level with his bulge but Ryan really does need to go to school-

“I can’t believe Annie and Hughie got a fucking baby before we did.” He mutters, glaring at the play pen. “It’s a goddamn travesty-“

“Travesty.” You hum, looking up at him with a wide, teasing smile. “Big word, Pretty Boy-“

“Shut up.”

Ben turns back to you, taking your face between big, warm hands and scanning over your features with a narrowed gaze. You can feel something wound tightly in his chest—slightly molding and almost painful—so you grab his wrists to keep him against you, and give him your widest, realest smile. The smile that’s for Ben, and Ben only.

It’s always really just Ben.

You know I fucking adore you. He says between your heads, his voice low and rough. Love you more than the goddamn universe, Sunshine, you’re my whole goddamn life. You know that.

I think you’ve mentioned it. You hum, leaning into his touch. And I love you too, you massive cunt, so say what the fuck you mean.

Ben lets out a dry snort as you drop your voice into a mocking impression of him on those last words, shaking his head slightly. Christ, darling. You’re fucking-

Perfect, I’m aware. Please, Ben-

You don’t need to ever do anything you fucking hate with me. He grunts, his body suddenly made only of fervorish, protective stone. I got you and Ryan, and that can be my world for the rest of my goddamn life, and I’d be good. If that caped fucking pussy knocked the idea of a baby out of your head forever, I’m not going to-

Ben. You cut him off with soft but firm words, holding his gaze. We don’t lie to each other.

Of course we fucking don’t-

So when I say that one day soon, I want to do this, you nod to the play pen. With you, believe me. Please.

His jaw twitches, and the wrathful care in his body doesn’t vanish, but it never does. It only moves back peacefully into your bones as Ben slowly nods. You’re sure.

Positive. Go bring Ryan to school before I do.

Ben rolls his eyes, leans down to kiss the top of your head, and half-stomps out the door.

He’ll be back soon. And—though he’ll never get you to say it aloud—you’ll wait right here until he does. Where everything still smells like pine, and you’re molded into the couch right where Ben put you, and you can smile at the play pen like a dumbass until the doorbell rings.

You know it MM before you open it, because Ben just walks in wherever he wants—including into offices he definitely should not be walking into and meetings you’re supposed to be focusing on—and everyone in the neighborhood seems to know that’s Soldier Boy and the Anomaly’s house, so after the Homeowners Association incident, nobody really bothers you that much.

It would be lonely if you didn’t already have a Ben, a Ryan, a Butcher—friend was too generous for the asshole, but he was unfortunately an indisputable part of your life—and friends.

Because when you open the door, it is MM on the other side, and he looks tire and pissed but still happy to see you. You can feel it—during your brief, tight hug—that there’s a heavy exhaustion under his skin and over his muscles, but there’s nothing but relieved affection for you to be here.

“This kid,” MM mutters as you pull apart. “Has fucking lungs.”

You smile, following him out to the still-running car. “I know, I’ve heard them. Annie told me to buy Ryan earplugs.”

“Smart.” MM leans into the car door, pulling out the car seat and probably saying more things, but you don’t really hear them because that’s a baby. A baby baby. A barely popped, wispy haired baby that looks so much like a shrunken down version of Hughie it’s a little disturbing.

And you’ve met him before. You were there when Annie had her pre-mature birth, doing what Ben had called more work than the damn nurses and stopping Annie’s bleeding with a press of your hand to her legs a brief rush of pain between your thighs.

MM had told you Ben had doubled over with a roar in the lobby, and you’d seen the evidence of it when you’d rejoined him and there was a large hole in the wall. But Annie had been okay, Hughie had given you a tight hug that could’ve left a bruise if that was something your body could do, and the baby had been healthy.

You hadn’t wanted to hold him, nerves building in your throat about what feeling the emotions of a baby could even do. Annie had told you that it would be fine, and half-shoved Joey into your arms.

And now—just like then—you can feel nothing but soft, humming peace from tiny Joel Campbell in your arms. There’s no bloodied pain or freezing fear, nothing rotten in his chest or throat or head. He’s just a little fuzzy because you’re not Annie, but it’s a brief distress that fades when you start to hum and the whole world grows perfectly warm.

They’re here. Your words are soft down your connection to Ben, and he flares slightly in your chest.

Good. Ryan’s off, I’ll be back soon. Don’t fucking move.

You smile to yourself, and MM must realize that you’ve moved yourself into a trance, because he doesn’t try to talk to you until you’re settled back inside with Joey carefully in your arms, and all of Annie’s baby supplies are piled near the door.

“You think your old motherfucker is ready for this?”

You snort. Ben’s so ready you’re probably going to spend the next month after this trying to pry him off of you. “He is. He baby-proofed the house.”

MM grunts, scanning around the living room. “I’m guessing the asshole wants one?”

You might be smiling like an idiot. “You have no idea.”

“I think I can live with that.” MM mutters, giving you an odd look. “And- If I’m out of line tell me to shut it and I will, but can you even do that?”

You sigh, trailing one finger softly over Joey’s cheek. There’s something in that silent, happy hum you feel from him that really seems like Annie.

You wonder if your baby would look like Ben and feel like you, or look like you and feel like Ben.

“I can if I want.” You say, shaking your head at MM’s look of confusion. “Don’t ask.”

He raises his hands in agreement, nodding to Joey in your arms. “Do you? Want one?”

“I do.” You whisper. “I always did, before, and then Home-“ You swallow. You still don’t like saying his name. He doesn’t deserve for his name to be said, not where Joey can hear it. “Then he, he did everything, and it didn’t seem like a thing I could ever do. But now...”

You trail off, and MM nods.

“What changed?”

You look up with a soft smile. “Do you really want me to say it?”

He sighs, running a hand over his face. “That old asshole must have a fucking genie who owes him one or something.”

You only hum, because it’s not really useful to explain that Ben doesn’t need a genie. He’s just Ben, and he’s everything, and you love him. “Maybe. I think he’s going to be amazing at this.”

“Of course you do.” MM mutters. “Where the hell is he?”

“Dropping Ryan at school.” You say, lowering your voice to whisper to Joey. “He’s bringing us back chocolate.”

“How the hell do you know-“

“He always brings me back something. And he’s that way,” you wave a vague hand over your shoulder, where you can sense Ben moving around miles away. “So he’s getting chocolate.”

When you look up, MM’s gaping slightly. “He always brings you something?”

“Of course he does. He thinks it’s an apology for leaving me.”

“Leaving- Motherfucker.” MM sighs, shaking his head. “It’s a good thing you two idiots can’t die without each other. You’re already so goddamn annoying.”

You can’t disagree with that. Not when—a few hours after MM leaves—Ben pushes through the door with a box of those fancy fucking chocolates you love, Sunshine, and lowers to his knees before you, staring at Joey in your arms.

“Hughie makes a tiny fucking baby.”

You wrinkle your nose at him. “Don’t bully the infant, Ben-“

“I’m not bullying him, I’m bullying his father. Hughie’s a fucking adult, he’ll live.” Ben rises up to kiss your brow. “You look real damn good with a baby in your arms, darling.”

You smile at him, tilting your head back to meet his gaze. Keep it in your pants, old man.

For the damn baby I will, but I promised you a proper fucking, Ben drawls your name between your heads, shooting you a wink. Going to have you begging for my cum in your mouth, on your tits, in that pretty fucking pussy-

Benjamin. You give him a stern look, even as the deep sound of his voice in your mind, the sight of him grinning at you, and the hunger in his body settle deep in your stomach. Not when I’m actively holding the child.

He rolls his eyes, but drops at your side on the couch and kisses your temple. Fine.

Thank you. You lean your head on Ben’s shoulder, letting him tuck you against his side, his hand tracing slow patterns on your arm as you start to hum, soothing Joey fully to sleep.

And you could’ve stayed like this for a lifetime. Ben’s content—you can feel it, feel how deeply and easily settled he is at your side—this is so simply peaceful, and you have no desire to disturb the static, colorful feeling you get from Joey, so you could’ve died here.

But Joey shits his pants, because that’s what babies do.

And You really don’t want to move.

MM left some things by the door, can you please-

You don’t need to finish the sentence before Ben’s moving, marching to the hall to grab the diapers and pushing the coffee table to your knees when he returns. You change Joey there—it’s a flat surface, you cleaned it that morning, and Ben had laid out a towel—before settling back onto the couch, and that’s most of the day. Joey’s hungry, Ben grabs the bottle and you feed him. Joey’s never cold—you and Ben are walking furnaces—but he seems a little uncomfortable, so Ben grabs a blanket Annie left and you swaddle. Joey shits himself again, and Ben marches upstairs to run a sink bath.

He hangs over your shoulder every second. And there are no grumbled suggestions or thoughts about Joey, only normal conversations about work and TV and Ryan and dinner. Nothing feels different, and the solid, pious care and love you feel from Ben is no stronger than normal. It’s aimed right at your heart and golden and warm in your body, but that’s just Ben. That’s how he loves you.

The only change is something softer—lining over his head and lungs—that glows when you catch him glancing at Joey in your arms. When you settle back on the couch with a sleepy, clean baby, and Ben pulls you half into his lap, resting his chin on the top of your head. You waste the afternoon like this. Watching TV with Ben everywhere around you, Joey asleep in your arms and nothing really that worrying in the world.

When your phone rings, you almost don’t want to answer it. But it’s Butcher, and if you ignore him he’ll come to your house, so you sigh and pick up the call.

“Butcher,” you whisper, and Ben’s arms tighten around your body. “Please tell me this is important.”

“You wound me.” Butcher’s voice is filled with mock offense through the speaker as he says your name. “I ain’t ever bothered you for no reason-“

“One time you called me to say Ben lost his pen.”

“And he was tearin’ up the bloody office, so I needed you to work your fuckin’ sex magic on the Gov before he hurt ‘imself. Always got a reason, love, you should well fuckin’ know that.”

I can’t hurt myself. Ben grumbles in your ear, obviously eavesdropping. Only person who can hurt me is you-

Romantic, my love. Shut up. “Butcher, if this is a work thing you have to call MM, Ben and I both have the day off-“

“‘Fraid MM ain’t able to help with this one, love. I got Secretary Campbell ‘ere, and he ain’t leavin’ until he speaks to Mr. and Mrs. American Dream.”

“Stop calling us that, it doesn’t even make sense.” You sigh, glancing at Joey in your arms. “What does he want?”

Apparently, Singer’s Defense Secretary is trying to get you and Ben to donate some DNA again. And you’d send Ben to deal with him, but you’re pretty sure that would end with a dead Campbell and another year half on the lam for you. So you sigh, tell Butcher you’ll be there soon, and hang up.

Ben mutters your name, keeping you steady in his lap. “I can fucking handle this-“

“No, Ben, it’s okay.” You lean back on his shoulder, giving him a soft smile. “You watch Joey, and I’ll pick up Ryan on my way back.”

“You shouldn’t fucking drive-“

“I’ll go slow. And be careful-“

Ben scoffs. “You’re never fucking careful-“

“Yes, I am. I will be. Just take Joey-“

“No, I’ll fucking deal with Singer’s lapdog, and you’ll keep the baby-“

“Benjamin.” You snap, and he shuts his mouth with a glower. There’s something sore over his whole body, but it’s rooted in his hands. Itching and heavy and tense, tight around his throat-

You frown, tilting your head at him, and softening your voice between your heads.

Are you okay?

I-

And remember I can feel you, Ben. You raise your brows, shifting in his lap to fully face him. Are you worried about the baby?

I’m not fucking worried, he grunts your name, hands tightening on your body. I don’t want to you leave, Sunshine, is that a goddamn crime-

No. You kiss him, quick and sweet, and rise from his hold. But I do have to go. I’ll put Joey in the travel crib, and you can Ben’o’phone me if you need help.

Or you could fucking stay-

You’ll be fine, my love. I’ll be back soon.

——————

Ben wasn’t watching TV. It was on, in the background, but he couldn’t goddamn focus on it.

There was a fucking baby in the room. It wasn’t bigger than his forearm, it kept making small baby sounds, and if Ben looked away from the crib for one goddamn second he was pretty fucking certain something would go wrong. The ceiling would fall and Ben wouldn’t be quick enough to throw his body over it. He would be quick enough, but he wouldn’t be careful and he’d crush the baby. The baby would shit, and he’d have to change the diaper. It would start throwing lightning bolts like its mother, and Ben would have to figure out what the fuck to do. It would be hungry, and Ben didn’t have tits.

The ceiling would not fall. This whole house had been supe-proofed, because all of them still had nightmares that set off their powers, when Ryan and Ben it could—according to Her—cause permanent structural damage, and Ben needed to be able to fuck Her however he pleased without worrying about everything breaking around them.

Ben would not crush the baby. He wasn’t some weak fucking pussy who couldn’t control his strength after damn near 80 years.

If the baby took another shit, Ben could change a diaper. He wouldn’t fucking like it, but it was just shit and piss. He’d been covered in guts and blood and brains, shit and piss was nothing. Even if that thing took some of the biggest shits Ben had seen in his very long life.

According to Her and Frenchie, mainstreamed V wasn’t hereditary. It didn’t fundamentally change the users DNA or some shit, so Annie and Hughie’s baby would always just be a normal person. Ben wasn’t really sure, because somewhere in the conversation someone had said what if they had a baby and pointed to Her and Ben, and he’d gotten distracted.

If it got hungry, She’d shown Ben how formula worked, and he’d figure it out. He’d do whatever the hell he needed to in order to prove to Her that they could have a baby. If they had a baby, Ben would fucking kill it.

Not the baby. He’d kill taking care of a baby. He’d feed and change and tend to it—just like he did with Her and Ryan—and it would be fucking disgusting and boring as shit, but he’d goddamn do it if he could have a baby.

And he didn’t know exactly what the hell had changed in forty years that men were expected to change diapers, but he’d change a million diapers for Her. He’d throw himself into the Sun and bury himself alive for Her. He’d watch something called How to Train You Dragon for Her. He’d fucking cook for Her—she sure as hell couldn’t do it herself, and Ben would be damned if he let his wife starve—and he’d read a fucking book just to make Her smile.

Changing a diaper—if that made Her happy as well—was fucking nothing.

So when Joey started wailing—about twenty minutes after She’d left—Ben was fucking ready. He’d been studying all the shit She’d been doing, and this kid wasn’t going to know what the fuck hit him. Annie and Hughie would get him back in better condition, and Ben would be a goddamn hero.

But the baby didn’t want food. And its diaper was clean.

The only thing that seemed to make it stop was when Ben held it. Cradled it in his arms and rocked it back and forth, sitting back on the couch because every time he tried to put the little fucker down, it would start screaming again.

Ben didn’t remember the last time he’d been this close to a real baby. He’d seen this one in the hospital after Annie popped it, and a few times after, but he’d never really held it. Annie had offered once, and he’d taken it, but it hadn’t been like this. Where Joey was curled into Ben’s chest and Annie wasn’t bouncing on her feet to take it back.

This was peaceful. Quiet. The TV humming in the background and Ben just fucking holding a baby. A baby that was happy to be in his arms, and didn’t fit perfectly because it wasn’t Ben’s baby, but was still a damn baby.

Happy. With him holding it.

Something became clear in his head. It had never been fogged or covered, but it was sharp now. Right in reach and touchable, more than just a fantasy or daydream.

Ben fucking wanted this. And he could really fucking have it. He’d seen Her look at Joey, and She’d sworn she’d want this as well. She’d said She’d want it with Ben.

And he could see it. Ben could almost physically fucking see a baby that had Her eyes and hair and whole perfect face, and would grab Ben’s nose and fucking break it. Any kid She and Ben had would be a supe—as far as Ben understood it—and they would be the strongest one yet. Ryan would help them learn to control the strength, and he’d never fucking worry about being loved less, because as far as the baby would know, Ryan would be their damn brother.

It would be smart like Her and Ryan. The kid would be talking in three months—or something, Ben didn’t know when babies usually started talking—and do all the fucking school shit, then chose to do good things because they would be Her kid, and everything She did and touched became fucking good.

And She’d be the best goddamn mother. She already was, with Ryan, and this would just be more. More annoying parents for Her to threaten, another person for Her to teach shit to, and another piece of evidence for Her to have that Ben couldn’t love Her more if he tried. Another way for Ben to show Her that She, Ryan, and now the baby were the only things in the whole damn universe that mattered.

He could see it. Her padding around the house in Ben’s shirt, holding their baby in one arm and a phone in the other. Hissing incredibly graphic threats at a congressman while smiling at the baby, sometimes dropping Her voice to coo to the kid when She was between calls.

“You know.” She said, swaying slightly in place as she mumbled to the child. Their child. That was Ben’s fucking child. “If that asshole doesn’t listen to Mommy, she’s going to let Daddy yell at them. And Daddy can be scary.”

Ben frowned, but he couldn’t quite move or speak, She didn’t see him there, and when She kept talking any protests of him being ‘scary’ vanished into the air.

“I know that crazy to you, because Daddy isn’t scary.” She set Her phone down on the counter, devoting Her entire attention to the infant in her arms. “He’s just big and grumpy. Like an ancient teddy bear.”

The kid made a soft, babbling sound, and Ben really wanted to hear it again. Especially as a tiny fist shot up, wrapped around Her finger, and she smiled as it babbled again.

“You’re right, he can be a bit of an asshole. Isn’t that right, my love?”

Ben could suddenly move, and he was walking forwards. Moving to Her side and pressing a kiss to Her brow. “Smart fucking mouth, brat.”

“You love it.” She hummed, leaning into him as She kept speaking to the baby. “He loves it.”

Ben did love it. He loved how fucking happy She was, how easy this felt, and how—when Ryan called from upstairs for homework help—She passed the baby into Ben’s arms without a thought and walked away.

And that was their fucking kid. And it had sharp eyes that were scanning over Ben’s face a little hazily, realizing that Ben wasn’t Her, and then almost squealing as it realized that he was Ben.

It reached up for him, and fucking Christ, the thing was happy to see him. It was making cute fucking sounds and squeezing his finger, and not a single fucking pussy would ever be allowed to hurt it. Ben would do whatever the hell it took to keep the kid this peaceful, to make it always this happy to see him, to make it so that She and Ryan would have the family they deserved, and Ben could just fucking love them for the rest of goddamn time-

“Ben. Wake up.” A gentle, perfect hand trailed over his face, and he’d fallen asleep.

He blinked his eyes open to find Her standing between his knees above him, and soft smile playing on Her lips.

“Good dream?”

Ben caught Her hand in his own, pressing a kiss to Her knuckles as he blinked away a little more sleep. “You don’t have a fucking clue.”

She hummed, glancing at Joey, still in his arms. “I think he likes you.”

“He likes that I’m warm-“

“The blanket was warm.” She shrugs. “He likes you.”

Ben grunted. He wouldn’t win this argument, and he knew better than to try. “Where’s Ryan?”

“In his room.” She said, dropping at Ben’s side and smiling at Joey. “We’ve been home for a few hours.”

“A few- You’ve been home hours-“

“Voice down, Benjamin.” She mumbled, leaning Her head against his arm. “And you both looked peaceful. I liked it.”

Ben smirked. Were you watching me sleep, Sunshine-

Yes, I was. And you watch me sleep all the fucking time, Pretty Boy, so shut it.

He chuckled, kissing the side of Her head, and they stayed there until Ryan shuffled down the stairs, stopping behind the couch and staring at Joey in Ben’s arms.

“He’s really small.” Ryan whispered, and Ben coughed to cover his laugh.

“He’s a baby, Ry.” She said, kicking Ben’s shin as She smiled up at Ryan. “We were all that small once.”

“I was never this small.” Ben muttered. “I was a big fucking baby, and you probably were as well, kid.”

Ryan’s eyes widened, and She scoffed.

“How big were you, Benjamin.” She narrowed Her eyes. And don’t say you’re still big now.

Don’t need to say it, Sunshine, you know better than damn anyone that I’m big. Ben winked at Her, smirking at her pretty flush as he continued. “I don’t fucking remember exactly, brat, it was a hundred goddamn years ago-“

She snorted. “So you might have been this tiny-“

“I fucking wasn’t-“

“You could’ve been.” She stuck Her tongue out at him, light dancing in Her eyes. “We’ll never know.”

Ben rolled his eyes, brat, and pulled Her into a long, slow kiss with his free hand, going until She was sighing into his mouth and slumping over his body-

She pushed off Ben’s chest, and something was radiant and zealous in his chest when She leaned back to look at Ryan, and there was an almost drunken smile on Her face.

“Do you need help with more homework-“

“No,” Ryan shook his head, glancing back to Joey. “I- I’m just hungry, but if you’re busy-“

Ben’s brow furrowed. “We look fucking busy, kid?”

“Uh, no?”

“Then it’s dinner.” Ben grunted Her name. “You want ravioli.”

She gave him a wide, toothy smile, Her voice oddly soft. “Yes, please.”

“Ryan-“

“That sounds good.” Ryan nodded slowly, taking a nervous step back. “I- I’ll go wait in my room- And-“

Ben frowned. “You finished your homework?”

Ryan nodded again, and Ben moved to his feet with Joey still carefully in his arms.

“Stay in here, kid. It’ll be easier to get you.”

“No- I- It’s okay-“

“Ryan?” She twisted fully in Her seat, a gentle frown on Her face. “Are you okay?”

“I’m okay, I just- I don’t-“ Ryan swallowed, bowing his head slightly. “Joey looks really fragile. I don’t- What if I break him?”

She tensed at Ben’s side, and Ben could fucking feel Her aching distress. Feel the presence of Her around his head tightening and spinning, see the sadness all over Her pretty face—almost perfectly matching Ryan’s—and Ben needed to fucking fix this.

“Hold the baby.”

Ben walked around the couch to put Joey into Ryan’s arms, and the kid just fucking gaped at him.

“But- But I could-“

“You won’t.” Ben snapped, and Ryan shook his head.

“He’s so small, Ben.” He whispered. “And I- I could hurt him.”

“When was the last time you broke something.”

Ryan blinked at him. “What?”

“The last thing you broke on accident, kid.” Ben raised his brows. “When did you break it.”

“I-“ Ryan glanced at Her, but she was just leaning over the back of the couch, tapping Her fingers on the pillows as she watched. “I don’t remember-“

“November.” Ben grunted. “You freaked out during a team dinner and snapped Butcher’s table in half. You’ve had a fuck ton of freak-outs since then, holding shit a lot more delicate than a table, and not a single damn thing has broken. Hold the baby.”

Ryan still didn’t move, only staring between Ben and Joey, and Ben let out a long breath.

“Ryan, do you really fucking think I’d hand you a damn baby if I thought you’d hurt it.”

“N- No-“

“You trust me, kid?”

Ryan’s eyes widened. “Of course I do-“

“Take the fucking baby.”

Ryan finally got it, and took Joey from Ben’s arms with slow, careful hands.

Nothing exploded. The sky didn’t fall.

And Ryan smiled, his voice filled with awe. “He looks like Hughie.”

Ben smirked. “He really fucking does. Poor kid.”

She frowned from the couch. “Benjamin-“

“Sunshine.” Ben mocked Her tone as he bent down, picking Her up with a grin and laughing when she squeaked. “You’re hungry, beautiful.”

She wrinkled Her nose at him, whacking his chest. “Don’t fucking do that, you asshole-“

I didn’t do a fucking thing. Ben drawled Her name between their heads, his eyes never leaving Her’s as he moved them out of the room. “We’ll be in the kitchen if you need us, kid.”

“Okay!” Ryan called after them. “I’ll stay with Joey!”

All the mock anger in Her eyes dissolved in a second, Ben leaned down to kiss Her—long and sloppy and heavy—as he set Her on the counter, and when he pulled away, Her smile was fucking perfect.

She was hanging off of Ben’s arm the entire time he made dinner, smiling at Ben like he’d handed Her the fucking moon when it was only damn pasta.

What-

I love you, Benjamin. She whispered between their minds. So much.

Ben kissed Her brow, tracing his thumb over Her cheekbone. Love you too, Sunshine.

You’re really good at this. With Ryan and Joey.

He shrugged. I’ll be even fucking better with Ryan and our kid.

And that was the damn truth. Because Ben could finish dinner and help Her serve, and he could eat around the table with Her and Ryan, but when the baby cried it wasn’t his baby. And there wasn’t a damn thing wrong with Joey—he was adorable, seemed alright for a baby, and Ben would never fucking tell Her, but while She’d been gone Joey had been chewing toothlessly on Ben’s finger and it had been the cutest thing he’d seen in his fucking life—but Ben wanted the kid to be theirs.

He wanted to set up the TV while She and Ryan cleared the plates, let Ryan chose what they were watching for family movie, and have Her sitting on Ben’s lap with their kid in Her arms. Ben wanted to lean over Her shoulder and see sharp eyes blinking up at him, to hear the baby make a bubbly little noise and for it to sound like Her voice.

He wanted Ryan to help put his sibling to bed before shuffling off to his own room, and he wanted to be standing here with Her over the crib—wrapping his arms around Her stomach and swaying back and forth in the dark—as they looked at their baby.

Joey looked so fucking peaceful in there, and Ben could see it again. A future where She’d be just like this, and the baby was really fucking theirs. It’s in a sturdier, bomb-proof crib built by Frenchie, and reaching for Her—because who fucking wouldn’t—and when it made a noise, Ben’s whole fucking world would get a little bigger.

I want one. Ben muttered between their heads, pressing a kiss to the side of Her head, and She hummed.

I know, my love. She smiled up at him, and Ben was going to fucking explode. In the dim light—with sleepy eyes and raw fucking love written all over Her perfect features—She’s was always the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. I’m sure I can find one for you.

End Note: Finally gave Ben a middle name. I don’t care what kripke and any future spinoffs say. That’s his middle name now, because it’s the funniest possible option.

If you like this story, please reblog, share, or leave a comment! <3

If you want to be tagged, just ask! (Separate from main taglist)

Taglist

@manicjk @lordofthunderthr @artemys-ackles @brtodd @sthefferrete

@lyarr24 @deansbbyx @bakugotypecrashout @foolinthera1n @globetrotter28

@youdontknowe @nyrtopia @iloveeveryoneyoureamazing @panicking-outside-the-disco @Ambiguous-avery

@elle14-blog1 @impala67rollingthroughtown @dumb--blonde @heyimolive @alwaystiredandconfused

@kamisobsessed @generalmoonpolice @foxyjwls007 @Jackles010378 @ilovedeanwinchester4 @immastealurkneecaps

@star-yawnznn @Chi-raz @Lori19 @wynnthewynnder @fultiana-kh

@woaheasytig3r @lovelywebber @salemslostwitch @winchester-whiskey @and-i-wish

@jsudsgf

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gpcwsl · 1 day ago

Text

Caitlin Foord x Reader

- Stay -

MasterList

Warnings: very short (sorry), a kiss?

It had taken weeks—months, even—of stolen glances, lingering touches, and moments that left your heart pounding, but here you were. Sitting on Caitlin Foord’s couch, a blanket draped over both of you, a movie playing softly in the background. The smell of the dinner you had just shared still lingered in the air, a mix of garlic and herbs from the pasta she had made entirely from scratch.

Caitlin sat close—closer than usual—and though your eyes were on the screen, you were hyper-aware of her arm brushing against yours every time she adjusted her position. You felt her presence like a magnet, pulling you in with every small movement.

“You’re not even watching, are you?” Caitlin teased, her Australian accent warm and full of amusement.

You blinked, caught red-handed. “What makes you think that?”

She raised an eyebrow, the corner of her lips quirking into a smirk. “Because you’ve been staring at the same spot on the screen for, like, ten minutes. I think you’ve missed half the plot.”

Your face heated up as you stammered, “I’m just… processing.”

“Processing, huh?” Caitlin laughed, leaning back against the sofa cushions. “Sure, sure. You know, if you’re bored, you can just say so.”

“I’m not bored,” you said quickly, the words rushing out before you could stop them. “I’m enjoying this. Being here. With you.”

Her teasing expression softened instantly, and she turned to fully face you. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you said, quieter this time, meeting her gaze.

For a moment, the air felt heavier, charged with something unspoken. Caitlin’s eyes flicked down to your lips for the briefest second before she broke the tension by leaning forward to grab the remote. “Alright, then. Let’s make sure we catch the ending, at least.”

The movie wrapped up eventually, and the two of you sat in comfortable silence for a while, the blanket still shared between you. But as much as you didn’t want the evening to end, the clock reminded you it was getting late.

“I should probably head out,” you said reluctantly, shifting to sit up.

Caitlin glanced at her phone, clearly disappointed. “Already?”

“Early start tomorrow,” you explained with a shrug.

She nodded, standing up alongside you. “Alright, let me walk you out.”

The walk to the door was quiet, your footsteps padding softly against the floor. Once there, you turned to face her, smiling despite the ache of not wanting to leave.

“Thanks for tonight, Cait. I had a really good time.”

“Me too,” she said, her voice almost shy. She reached up to rub the back of her neck, a habit you’d come to recognize when she was feeling nervous. “I, uh… I’m glad you said yes to this.”

“So am I.”

You reached for the doorknob, but before you could turn it, Caitlin’s hand gently caught your wrist.

“Wait,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

You turned back, your breath catching as you saw the look in her eyes—something vulnerable, something brave.

Before you could say anything, Caitlin closed the space between you, her lips brushing yours in a kiss that was as soft as it was certain. Her free hand rested lightly on your waist, anchoring you to the moment.

When she pulled back, her cheeks were flushed, but there was a small, hopeful smile on her lips. “Stay,” she murmured. “Just for tonight.”

Your heart raced, the world around you fading until there was only Caitlin—the warmth of her hand, the way she looked at you like you were the only thing that mattered.

“Okay,” you whispered, your voice steady despite the fluttering in your chest.

Her smile widened, and she took your hand, leading you back inside. “Come on. Let’s pick another movie.”

#arsenal women #woso community #arsenal #woso fanfics #caitlin foord #caitlin foord x reader #woso x reader #woso imagine #woso one shot #woso soccer #movie date #wlw community #wlw post #wlw yearning #wlw blog #wlw love #fan fiction #fan fic writing

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bless-my-demons · 2 days ago

Text

Scared Of Losing You

Paul Lahote x Reader

Summary: It was just an accident, what is the infamous big bad Paul Lahote afraid of?

Losing his imprint, that’s what.

Warnings: hurt/comfort followed by fluff of course and curse words - PG-13.

Notes: This is literally just a one-shot that would not leave me alone so I had to get it out! It’s all in reader’s pov with no physical description and gender neutral for the most part I think. I also listened to The Wire by the Vancouver Sleep Clinic while I was writing this, if you want the right vibes✨ enjoy my first Paul fic!

Word count: 1700

Masterlist

Beep… beep… beep…

The constant tone is almost soothing, almost, but not quite - there’s too much pain.

The hospital sheets crinkle as I try to shift to find a more comfortable position, but a soft inhale has my eyes snapping open against the bright light above my bed to search for the source of the sound.

“Sam?” I try to keep my voice low, but it comes out as more of a dry croak.

Sam leans forward in his chair to reach for the cup of ice on the tray near my bed, “Yeah, kid.” He keeps his own voice quiet, but I can hear the tiredness in the deep rumble.

It’s after my first sip of cold water that I take in everyone piled in my room. Embry, Quil, Jared, even Jacob - the boys are sprawled out on various chairs and couches, all completely knocked out and some of them even snoring lightly.

But there’s another, Paul. And my heart beats a little faster taking him in, the heart monitor giving me away.

“He’s been here the whole time, hasn’t even left to shower.” Sam shifts back into his chair positioned next to the foot of my bed, directly across from his best friend on the other side, his eyes worrying over said man. “To be fair, none of us have been able to leave.”

“Sam-” I’m speechless for a few seconds, “what happened?”

He loosens a sigh so deep, it pulls something in my chest. God, how long have I been here? Looking over Paul’s sleeping form, I try to put the pieces together - his head is buried face-down in his crossed arms, leaning on the end of my bed near my left leg, one of his warm hands wrapped around my ankle-my uninjured ankle. His shirt is rumbled, but I can see stubble on his cheek peeking out from where his face is hidden. If it weren’t for the pain, I’d be an absolute hot mess at the physical contact; the way his large hand easily wraps around my ankle, how warm my side is due to the heat emanating from this mountain of a man despite the cold of the hospital room.

“You were in a car accident leaving the reservation after your dinner with Emily. You didn’t text her when she expected you to be home, you didn’t answer your phone and it went straight to voicemail…” I can see the genuine concern on his face as he recalls it, “When we got there, Chief Swan was already on scene.”

“How bad? How long have I been here?” I can feel my throat starting to constrict, my heart rate starting to tick a little faster.

Sam’s eyes flick to the monitor, brotherly worry written all over the creases in between his eyebrows and the hard press of his lips.

“Three days.” This time it’s not Sam that answers, it’s the deep tenor that invades my dreams as well as damn near every waking thought of mine, Paul Lahote.

My head whips to meet his intense gaze so fast that it makes me slightly nauseous, his hand lightly squeezing my ankle in a way that tugs at another string in my chest.

“Going for coffee, I’ll bring you back one.” Sam rises from his seat and I panic slightly, he’s leaving me with Paul. Paul Lahote, the guy I have an insanely intense crush on, the guy that doesn’t do feelings. The panic subsides quickly though, I giggle slightly at Sam trying to wake up and usher the boys still half-asleep out of my room.

The door clicks behind them, silencing their grumbles and their absence echos in the room. Sucking all the air out with their departure, it’s damn near impossible to meet his eyes again.

“Sweetheart.” The tenderness and hush in his voice is unfair, coupled with the gentle swipe of his thumb over the skin of my ankle. Damn, he doesn’t fight fair.

It’s like a magnet, the way my eyes draw back to his. They look so fucking tired and it hurts.

“Three cracked ribs, a fractured orbital bone, a nicked lung, and a broken tibia. Not to mention all the cuts-” he cuts himself off, hands and gaze running over my uninjured leg like he’s trying to reinforce something inside himself.

“Paul-” He stills at his name, eyes closing, inhaling deep. “Paul.”

Finally he turns to me, eyes opening and showing the slightest bit of tears pooling at the edges and its another pang to the center of my chest.

“I’m still here, what are you so scared of?” My voice is small, not sure how to tread this tense situation.

A wet laugh tumbles out as his hands abandon my leg to rub at his temples. “You.” It’s quiet and I almost don’t catch it over the beeping of monitors.

“What?” I ask, my voice taking on an incredulous tone. Surely I didn’t hear him right, right?

“You.” His eyes lock onto mine with full force, face set. “You’ve… you’ve wormed your way in here-” he rubs at his chest like it hurts and my breath hitches, “and I was scared. Am scared.” The pause hitching his breath, the tension is thick, “your car, seeing it flipped… it’s like the world stopped and I couldn’t hear anything-couldn’t think straight, but watching you getting pulled out, I-” his groan of frustration slides over my skin and lodges in my throat with the rest of my guilt. “I-I-”

His stuttering renders me absolutely speechless, Paul Lahote showing feelings? Feelings for me? Is this real life?

“So I haven’t left. Can’t. I can’t even think of leaving this room let alone going home and just being useless-”

“Paul, I’m fine.” I try to reach for his hands, but a stabbing pain in my side stops me, right - the ribs.

“Please don’t do that, don’t say that, you weren’t awake then they brought you in with that fucking tube down your throat-” The tremble in his hands stop his rant, drawing his attention somewhere else. His next words are a whisper, “You weren’t fine and nothing-nothing else matters.”

The conviction in his statement makes my chin wobble.

“Sweetheart,” he rises from his chair and cups my cheeks, mindful of the scratches and bandages. “Sweetheart, please…” the strong thumb swiping over my cheekbone only weakens my thin resolve and a tear spills over.

“I’m so sorry.” My voice wobbles, damn me for not being stronger, but everything hurts and he’s being so vulnerable and-and-and it’s so scary.

He leans down further, forehead pressing to my own, his nose barely brushing mine. My heart rate monitor picks up its cadence once again and that smirk I’ve always loved crinkles the side of his stupid, perfect mouth.

“I’m the one that’s sorry.” His admission confuses me, he’s sorry? “I’m sorry I haven’t told you sooner how I’ve felt.”

My heart fully stops functioning and my mouth drops open at this new bit of information.

His lips brush my cheek as they whisper into my ear, “breathe.” My entire body is a live wire as I gulp oxygen down.

“You don’t have to say anything-” his immediate insecurity about his confession is too much.

I cut him off before I lose my resolve, “kiss me?”

His eyes widen comically for a second, as if he didn’t picture the possibility I could return his affections. Silly man.

His fingers gently glide under my chin to tilt it upwards, his eyes searching every inch of my face, like he’s looking for something.

“If you-” his turn to cut me off, his warm lips seal over mine.

Surely I’m dead. I must be, it’s the only logical reason. Either that or this is a really, really nice dream. The immersive kind, where it’s too good to be true. It’s a crime really, for lips to be so full and soft and just right-

The barely audible whimper that leaves my mouth when he pulls away a fraction of an inch is embarrassing. What’s even more embarrassing is the way I reach to chase those lips, but once again my ribs decide to protest the action, goddamnit.

Paul takes pity on me with a chuckle, resealing his lips over mine, thank god. No one should have a mouth this delicious, lips this full and warm. I’m a goner - go ahead and wheel me to the morgue, I can die happy now that I’ve finally found out what it’s like to kiss Paul Lahote.

His hands gently slide into my hair, causing a gasp to punch through from the goosebumps the warm caress pours down my spine. His tongue seizes the opportunity to lick past my lips and I happily swallow the moan he elicits right before he peels himself away.

Backing up and taking a lap around the end of the bed, I catch the flush in his cheeks as he blows out a long breath and grin to myself self-satisfied. I made the Paul Lahote flustered.

“Too much?” I ask, unable to contain myself.

For once he looks like a fish out of water, but before she could scramble a response together, a gentle knock at the door draws both our attention as Emily peeks her head around the edge, “knock, knock.”

Relief at seeing my best friend soothes the burning heat in my cheeks almost immediately.

“Come in.” Paul pushes the chair closer so that he can take my much smaller hand in his, careful of the IV taped to the back of my hand. I can’t contain the butterflies that erupt at the satisfied grin his mouth is set in, eyes glued to our joined hands.

“I’m so glad you’re awake and alright!” Her concerned ramblings fading off as the boys file back in. Sam clapping a hand on Paul’s shoulder and suspiciously empty handed with no promised coffee in sight, but I can’t look away. Not from the man that just flipped my word upside down with a couple words and a kiss.

#twilight fanfiction #paul lahote #paul lahote x reader #paul lahote x you #paul lahote x y/n #Paul Lahote x gn!reader #paul lahote fluff #hurt/comfort

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chilling-seavey · 18 hours ago

Note

George teaching your daughter how to play backgammon and saying she learned better than her brother

LOVE IT. For those who haven't read the blurb this is referring to, you can read it here

George stared down dumbly at the backgammon board sitting on the small patio table in front of him. Eyes wide in disbelief, he tried to wrap his mind around what he was looking at. The meticulously placed red chips still lined up in his home board...the white chips all piled outside of the set and on the table top.

Ever the learner and momentarily confused by his sudden silence, his four-year-old daughter blinked up at him from the other side of the table in the back garden, "Now what?"

"Now...nothing," George stammered out, "You...won."

"Oh," she grinned and looked down at the board too, "Yippee! That was easy."

Just then, you brought them some lemonade, setting the glasses down on the table, "How's it going?"

"I won, Mommy!" your daughter announced proudly.

Your eyebrows raised, "You won?"

You glanced at George who looked absolutely beside himself in confusion.

Sensing your unspoken questions, he explained dully, "I was teaching her for the first little bit and then...she just got the hang of it."

Your daughter shifted on the patio chair to rest on her knees and lean over the board again, already starting to put the pieces back in their starting positions, "Can we play again, Daddy? I like winning."

You snorted and set a hand on George's shoulder, "Oh, she sounds like you."

George, who also liked winning, bit his tongue. The last thing he wanted to be was a sore loser in front of his four-year-old. Instead, he reached out to pinch your hip in silent retaliation for your sass and you yelped quietly and swatted his arm.

George then leaned forward to help the little girl set up the board again, explaining as he did so, "You know, jellybean, your brother didn't learn as quickly as you have. You've given me a real challenge here."

"Really?" she glanced at him in surprise, like backgammon was the easiest thing known to mankind.

You spoke up with a matter-of-fact, "Even I have never beaten Daddy so you must be very talented."

Her little mouth dropped open and she looked back at her father for confirmation. A proud little smirk at your statement of the truth came to his lips and he nodded.

"Wow, I'm better than Daddy and Mommy!" she squealed.

"Hey, now," George defended lightly, "I've had this board for enough time to make up five of your lifetimes. Don't think your one stroke of beginner's luck means you're reigning champion."

His just-as-competitive daughter narrowed her eyes at him as if challenging him right then and there. He stared back just as firmly into the eyes that were carbon copies of his own, steepling his fingers as he waited for her to make the first roll.

As she lunged forward to grab the dice, you swatted his arm to get his attention and leaned down to remind him lightly against his ear, "She's four. Don't be too competitive with her."

With an almost maniacal laugh, pleased with her roll, the little girl announced loudly, "Ha ha! Sucker!"

♡ Enjoying my content? Support my writing here :)

♡ None of the original writing on this blog may be reproduced, reposted, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the author.

#🩵#george russell smut #george russell fanfic #george russell fic #george russell x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #formula one fic #f1 fluff #f1 smut #f1 imagines #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #domestic f1 #dad george russell #twig mini drabbles

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tikosblogg · 16 hours ago

Note

Hiii, i saw that you're taking requests and I have one. ❤️

Can you please write something about Noah and reader who had started their relationship not too long ago and Noah discovers reader's scars. She's pretty insecure about them and thinks that he'll be disgusted when he sees them but he just starts kissing them instead and likes her just as much as before if not even more because being so vulnerable around him just shows how much she trusts him. There can be some smut or just fluff, it's up to you (this was kind of inspired by "A match into water" by Pierce the veil bc it just seems so Noah coded in my opinion 🤭)

Thank you in advance 🥹

So sorry anon I just saw this😭❤️ hope you like it!

Warning: fluff, mentions of self harm..

The air in Noah's house was thick with the scent of sandalwood and something undeniably him �� a mix of leather, ink, and warm skin. We'd only been dating a few months, a whirlwind of late-night talks, shared playlists, and an undeniable, electric attraction. Tonight, we were curled up on the couch, a movie flickering on the screen, but neither of us was really watching.

His hand traced lazy circles on my arm. As I admired his tattoos. Each brush of ink was a conversation, a story etched onto his skin. I loved tracing them, memorizing the swirling patterns, the hidden meanings. It was a stark contrast to the canvas I’d been desperately trying to hide.

I shifted slightly, pulling my sleeve down further. Anxiety coiled in my stomach, a familiar serpent whispering doubts in my ear. He was so beautiful, so confident, a walking piece of art. And me? I was a damaged landscape he hadn’t fully explored yet.

His fingers stilled. "You okay?" he asked, his voice a low rumble that vibrated through me. His eyes locking on mine, filled with concern.

I swallowed hard. "Yeah, just... cold." A pathetic excuse, but all I could manage.

He chuckled softly. "Come here." He pulled me closer, tucking me further into his side. His arm wrapped around me, warm and protective. And that's when it happened. My sleeve, already stretched thin, rode up a little too far.

The breath hitched in my throat. The flickering light danced across the pale lines on my wrist, a ghostly reminder of past battles. My heart hammered against my ribs, threatening to break free.

Noah went still as a statue. For what felt like an eternity, he didn't move, didn't speak. I closed my eyes, bracing myself for the inevitable. Disgust. Disappointment. Maybe even pity. Anything but this suffocating silence.

"Y/n?" His voice was barely a whisper.

I couldn't meet his gaze. Shame burned in my cheeks. "I... I was young and stupid." The words tumbled out, a desperate plea for understanding. "It’s... it's in the past."

He gently took my wrist in his hand, his touch feather-light. My eyes flicked open, drawn to the intensity in his gaze. He wasn't looking at me with disgust. He was looking at me with... empathy?

He turned my arm over, his thumb tracing the faded lines. He didn't say anything for so long, the silence deafening. I wanted to disappear, to melt into the couch and never be seen again.

Finally, he lifted my hand to his lips. One by one, he kissed the scars, each touch a featherlight apology. He kissed them with reverence, with a tenderness that made tears prick at the corners of my eyes.

"They're just stories, Y/n," he murmured against my skin. "Stories of survival. And you're here. You survived."

He looked up at me, his eyes filled with a depth of understanding I'd never expected. "Don't ever be ashamed of them. They're a part of you."

He brought my hand to his heart, pressing it against his chest. The steady beat of his heart was a comforting rhythm against my palm. "They show me how strong you are. How much you've overcome."

He leaned in closer, his breath warm on my ear. "And honestly," he whispered, pure warmth returning to his eyes, "it makes me feel…good…that you let me see this... it means the world to me."

He kissed me then, a slow, gentle kiss that tasted of understanding and acceptance. In that moment, the serpent of doubt retreated, banished by the warmth of his love.

I knew then that he didn't see me as damaged. He saw me as a survivor. And maybe, I could start seeing myself that way too. Being so vulnerable, so utterly exposed, had been terrifying. But it had also forged a bond stronger than anything I could have imagined. He hadn't been disgusted. He’d been… honored.

As he pulled me closer, his arms wrapping securely around me, I knew one thing for sure: I wasn't just falling in love with Noah. I was falling in love with myself, scars and all. And he was right there beside me, every step of the way.

#noah sebastian #bad omens #badomensimagines #noahsebastiancult #bad omens cult #imagines #bad omens band

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alittlegiraffe · 1 day ago

Note

Hello! Can you please write 5 times Eminem gets jealous when other men become interested in the reader? (He hasn't confessed to her yet) The reader is also very oblivious to his feelings because he is a celebrity and she is not and doesn't understand why he is acting like that.

Title: About Damn Time

1. The Time You Went on a Date with Some Random Guy

You kicked off your heels and flopped onto Marshall’s couch with a dramatic sigh.

“How was it?” he asked, not looking up from his phone.

You shrugged. “It was… fine?”

Marshall scoffed. “That bad?”

“No! He was really nice. Funny, smart, great job…”

“Sounds like a fuckin’ Hallmark movie.”

You rolled your eyes. “You asked.”

He muttered something under his breath, then finally looked at you. “So, you seein’ him again?”

“Maybe?” You frowned. “He said he’d call.”

Marshall exhaled sharply and went back to his notepad, gripping the pen way too aggressively.

“Dude, what’s with you?”

“Nothin’.”

You shrugged it off, not noticing how his jaw clenched when your phone buzzed.

2. The Time You Got Hit On at the Studio

You were at the studio, leaning against the console, when one of the engineers—some new guy—struck up a conversation.

“So, Y/N,” he grinned, “you ever think about getting into music? You’ve got the voice for it.”

You chuckled. “Oh, I don’t think—”

“She’s not here for that,” Marshall interrupted flatly.

You blinked at him. “I mean, I could answer for myself—”

“We workin’.” He shot the guy a glare. “You got somethin’ else to do, or you just here to talk?”

The engineer held up his hands in surrender. “Alright, alright. Didn’t mean anything by it.”

After he walked off, you turned to Marshall. “Okay, seriously. What was that?”

He shrugged. “Nothin’.”

You narrowed your eyes, then shook your head. “You’re weird, man.”

Marshall just muttered under his breath and went back to work.

3. The Time You Got Too Close to His Crew

You’d always gotten along with Marshall’s friends, but lately, you’d noticed Proof had taken to throwing an arm around you like you were one of them.

At a party, he laughed as he slung an arm over your shoulders. “Man, you put up with way too much of Marshall’s bullshit.”

You smirked. “Someone has to.”

Marshall, standing a few feet away, clenched his jaw so hard he thought his teeth might crack.

Later, he pulled you aside. “You and Proof got somethin’ I should know about?”

You snorted. “Uh, yeah. We’re gonna start a rap duo and take over the world.”

Marshall didn’t laugh.

You rolled your eyes. “Dude, it’s Proof. Your best friend.”

Marshall muttered something under his breath and took a sip of his drink. You just shrugged, completely missing the way he glared at Proof for the rest of the night.

4. The Time You Wore That Damn Dress

Marshall had never actually choked on air before, but apparently, tonight was the night.

You showed up to an event in a fitted dress, hair and makeup done, looking—well. Different.

“You good?” you asked, amused, as he coughed into his drink.

He cleared his throat. “Yeah. You, uh. You don’t usually wear stuff like that.”

You smiled. “You like it?”

He scoffed. “Don’t matter what I think.”

You rolled your eyes. “Well, clearly it does if you’re acting all weird about it.”

“I ain’t actin’ weird.”

You stared at him for a second, then shrugged. “Whatever you say.”

Marshall took a deep breath, forcing himself to look away. If one more guy looked at you like that, he was gonna lose it.

5. The Time You Almost Kissed Someone Else

It happened at a party. Some guy leaned in, and for a split second, it looked like you were gonna let him.

Marshall didn’t think—he just moved. Before you could react, his hand wrapped around your wrist, pulling you away from the guy and out the door.

“What the hell, Marshall?” you asked as he dragged you outside.

He ran a hand over his face, exhaling sharply. “You don’t wanna kiss that dude.”

“…Why not?”

He looked at you like you’d just asked if the sky was blue.

“Are you serious?”

You nodded, completely lost.

“Jesus Christ,” he muttered. Then, before he could second-guess himself, he grabbed your face and kissed you.

+1. The Time He Finally Did Something About It

Your brain short-circuited.

Marshall Mathers was kissing you. Marshall.

When he pulled back, he exhaled sharply. “You get it now?”

You blinked. “…Wait. You like me?”

Marshall groaned. “Oh my God.”

“No, no, I’m just—Since when?”

He rolled his eyes. “Long enough.”

You processed that. Then, finally, finally, you grabbed the front of his hoodie and yanked him back down for another kiss.

When you pulled away, breathless, you grinned. “You could’ve just told me, you know.”

Marshall smirked. “Yeah, well. You weren’t gettin’ the hint.”

No. But you got it now.

#eminem #marshall mathers #eminem x reader #marshall mathers x reader #reader requests

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hyperfixatedimagines · 2 days ago

Text

Home for the Holidays Ch.3- Alicent x f!reader

Summary: You didn't get your happily ever after. Would this Christmas be any different from the last?

A/N: You asked, I answered....very late but better late than never right? Please let me know what you guys think! This will be the last installment for this fic so please enjoy!

It was never going to work out, at least that’s what you told yourself to make Alicent’s reaction sting less.

It didn’t work.

The day after Christmas dinner, the morning after you had slept with Alicent, was a cold one.

After joking around with Aemond you went back up to Alicent’s bedroom, a fresh bottle of water in hand for her.

You found her crying- sobbing, actually- in front of her bathroom mirror.

You watched her for a moment before making a sound. You cleared your throat before you opened the door the rest of the way.

She quickly wiped her eyes and turned to you. “(y/n).”

You handed her the water bottle. “Is everything okay?”

Alicent uncapped the bottle and took a long drink. “I think we should talk,” she replied as she set the bottle down on the sink counter.

Your stomach sank. You already knew what she was going to say.

So you beat her to the punch.

“You don’t have to say anything Alicent. We can act like nothing happened last night.”

Alicent frowned and looked away from you. “I think that would be for the best.”

You turned around and walked towards the door. Alicent reached out and grabbed you by the wrist.

“I had a wonderful time last night (y/n) but-”

You didn’t turn back to look at her, you couldn’t. You knew if you did you’d start crying and it would only make Alicent feel worse.

“It would never work out, realistically. I know that,” you replied in a soft voice.

Alicent let go of your wrist. Your arm fell back to your side like a load of lead.

“Precisely,” Alicent whispered.

You swallowed hard then walked out of her bedroom.

You barreled toward the guest room where your clothes were. You changed and called an Uber. The cost was outrageous but you couldn’t stand to be in Alicent’s home another second.

After you changed you returned Aemond’s pajamas to him.

You knocked on the door to his bedroom and waited.

He opened the door, sweaty and shirtless. “Hey there creeper,” he joked.

You forced a smile. “I’m here to return your pajamas. Thanks for letting me borrow them.”

Aemond grimaced. “Gods, I’ll have to burn them now. Won’t be able to wear them without knowing what occurred last night.”

Damn, you had forgotten you’d told him the truth.

You furrowed your brows. “Have you spoken with your mom yet?”

He shook his head. “No, I’ve been avoiding her. I’m not quite sure how to look at her anymore. I mean, are you two dating now? Was it a one night stand? It’s a lot harder to reconcile than I thought it would be.”

There it was, an out.

“Good,” you told him. “I lied earlier. I didn’t sleep with your mom. I was just teasing.”

Lying always made the bile in your stomach rise in your throat. This lie was especially hard on your stomach.

Aemond sighed in relief. “You asshole. My anxiety was off the walls at the thought of it,” he said and jokingly shoved you.

You forced another smile. “I couldn’t help myself.”

You swallowed the bile in your throat.

Aemond took the pajamas from you. He noticed you had collected your things.

“Are you leaving?”

You nodded. “Yeah, my cousin called and she was able to send a car for me. It should be here in a few minutes.”

Aemond frowned. “I hoped you’d stay through New Years. It gets pretty lonely with it just being my mother and I. Aegon’s gone off somewhere to whore no doubt.”

“Maybe next time,” you replied.

He nodded. Then Aemond wrapped his arms around you.

“Happy Christmas (y/n),” he said as he pulled away.

“Merry Christmas Aemond,” you replied. “I’m going to wait outside. Your mom seemed busy this morning so tell her I said goodbye and thank her for her hospitality.”

Aemond nodded. “Will do. Safe travels.”

You turned and made your way down the hall.

You were almost at the door when you heard Alicent call your name.

You turned around at the door and there she was, rushing to meet you. You briefly hoped she had changed her mind and was coming to tell you.

Sadly that was not it.

She stopped a few steps away from you, a respectable distance.

“You’re leaving,” she asked. Her eyes were bloodshot.

You guessed she had continued to cry after you’d left her bedroom.

“Yes. I thought it best,” you told her, not meeting her gaze.

“Oh,” she replied, a frown on her face.

A beat passed in silence.

You gazed outside and saw a car coming down the driveway.

“Looks like my car is here.”

Alicent stepped closer to peer outside.

She was close. You could smell the perfume of her shampoo that still lingered in her hair. Cinnamon and vanilla. You closed your eyes and took in the smell.

It felt bittersweet.

She saw the car then stepped away.

“Right, well thank you for spending Christmas dinner with us.”

“Thank you for having me,” you said and turned to leave.

Alicent reached out and touched your shoulder.

You stopped.

Her hand remained on your arm.

“You don’t have to leave. I- Aemond would like for you to stay, I’m sure of it,” Alicent said, her voice straining against choked back tears.

You looked over at her hand on your shoulder.

“There’s no reason for me to stay…” You turned around to face her. “Unless there is?” You met her gaze, begging her to tell you to stay.

But you could tell by the sorry look on her face that she wouldn’t.

“Aemond would appreciate it,” she replied.

“Only Aemond,” you asked, giving her another chance.

But you knew she wouldn’t take it.

Alicent looked away from you.

You nodded slowly.

“Merry Christmas Alicent,” you said and walked out.

You didn’t look back as you made your way to the car.

You got in and greeted the driver. You wouldn’t look back.

You buckled your seatbelt and the driver started to pull out of the driveway. Still, you wouldn’t look back.

But as you neared the exit gate you caved and looked back.

Alicent stood in the doorway, her arms hugging her sides.

From your distance you couldn’t make out the look on her face but you figured it matched yours.

Tears spilled down your face and you quickly wiped them away. You swallowed the rest of them and faced forwards.

It would be hard to forget that night, but you knew you had to if you were to remain friends with Aemond.

The year that followed was one you could not have predicted.

Your family came around to your sexuality. They apologized for their behavior and welcomed you back into the family fold.

As such you were able to get your own flat.

Moving out was not as hard as you thought it would be. You and Aemond had not fallen out but distance had grown between you.

There was no direct reason or cause. You had simply spent less and less time together.

He found a girlfriend in a mutual friend named Alys, and you had found a wonderful distraction in working for your family’s company.

Graduation only served to further the divide between you.

It was also the first time you’d seen Alicent since Christmas.

She looked stunning, that was no surprise.

What was a surprise was the man next to her the whole ceremony.

Had she already found a new partner?

When the ceremony ended you found Aemond and congratulated him. He did the same and hugged you. He also affirmed that while you two had become distant his love and affection for you had not.

You told him you felt the same and hugged him.

Then he mentioned he was upset to see his mom’s new boyfriend with her.

Boyfriend, your heart sank.

But you weren’t surprised. A woman like Alicent would not remain single for long.

Alys pulled Aemond away before you could ask for any more details. Your family had also approached you to congratulate you.

You didn’t speak to Aemond much after graduation but he always liked and commented on your Instagram posts and you did the same with his.

You wouldn’t see Alicent again until Christmas came back around.

That Christmas your family had decided to throw a lavish ball for friends and business associates.

You dreaded the thought of having to play the perfect daughter all night long but you knew that you would manage with your cousin Elia by your side.

Unfortunately for you, Elia had gotten stuck at the airport oceans away.

So you scrambled to find a friend to join you for the night.

More unfortunate for you, they were all busy for the night with family or their own plans.

The only name on your contact list you hadn’t called was Aemond.

You knew he’d be busy with his own family so you didn’t bother.

Instead you posted a cheeky Instagram story about suffering through the party alone for your close friends list.

A few minutes after you posted the story Aemond direct messaged you asking if you wanted a plus one that he was available.

You called him, not wanting to go back and forth over text. He answered on the first ring.

After exchanging pleasantries you asked why he was free on Christmas. Weren’t his family coming down like they did last year?

“No, my grandfather and uncles told my mother they wouldn’t be joining us this year,” Aemond explained.

“Why? If you don’t mind my asking,” you replied.

Aemond let out a big sigh. “They weren’t too thrilled that my mother broke off her engagement.”

“Engagement,” you exclaimed, confused.

You had certainly missed that life update.

Aemond chuckled. “Guess I forgot to post that on Instagram didn’t I. Yeah, my mom got engaged to her boyfriend- the guy you saw during graduation- but she broke it off a few days after she said yes.”

Relief washed over you. You knew Alicent would never be yours, but at least she wouldn’t be anyone else’s either.

“And why did your grandfather disapprove?”

“He was the one who set my mom up with the guy in the first place. He’s an up and coming guy in politics and my grandfather wanted our family attached to his,” Aemond replied.

You nodded slowly. “I see. Did she love him?”

“Who knows. They weren’t very affectionate but my mom hasn’t ever been big on PDA.”

“Well I’m sorry to hear they won’t be coming. I know you don’t have the best relationship with them but still-,” you told him.

“It’s alright. I’m not bothered but my mom isn’t taking it as well. Especially since Helaena is going to spend Christmas Eve and day with a friend. So it’ll be just her and I,” Aemond said with an exasperated sigh.

“What about Aegon?”

Aemond huffed. “He’s in Las Vegas and doesn’t plan to come home.”

You bit the inside of your cheek. An idea had popped into your head.

A potentially stupid one.

“Why don’t you and Alicent join us?”

“Really? You wouldn’t mind- well, your family wouldn’t mind?” Aemond asked, his voice hopeful.

Your heart beat faster at the thought of seeing Alicent again. A whole year later and your heart still yearned for her.

A bit pathetic of you really.

Or romantic.

“Of course they wouldn’t. It’s a big party for donors and friends. They won’t care to have two more in attendance,” you replied.

“Alright then. I’ll speak with my mother but I’m sure she would prefer it to being home alone that night.”

“Perfect. I’ll text you the address. It’s a bit of a drive from Oldtown so if you can’t make it there won’t be any hurt feelings.”

“Nonsense. I’ll see you then,” Aemond replied.

“See you then.”

You and Aemond said your goodbyes then you hung up.

You smiled to yourself. The possibility of seeing Alicent again excited you but you tried to keep your expectations low.

Even if she came that night it wouldn’t change a thing between you.

You’d still be just Aemond’s friend.

And she would still be just Aemond’s mother.

What you wanted from Alicent would take a real Christmas miracle.

The night of the Christmas ball arrived.

You and Elia had spent a great deal of time on Facetime choosing your attire for the night. You wanted to look so good it would take Alicent’s breath away.

The guests had started to arrive so your parents had sent an assistant to fetch you.

You walked down to the ballroom and walked over to where your parents stood.

They were deep in conversation with another family when you approached them. You recognized the family.

The Tyrells were an old money family like your own, but they had been your family’s sworn enemies for generations.

That was until your father reached out to the Tyrells with an olive branch and mended the ages-long feud.

Most of your family didn’t even know how the feud started. You guessed it had been about land. Most feuds boiled down to land disagreements.

Now the Tyrells were great business allies. Your father had mentioned a desire to have the families united via marriage quite a few times but nothing had come of it.

The Tyrell patriarch had a daughter and a son but the son had come out as gay a few years ago and the daughter was well known to sleep around with the staff. Your only eligible brother had just gotten engaged to his long time girlfriend Lyanna so a marriage to unite the families was out of the question for your generation.

Or so you had thought.

Your father turned to you as you approached.

“There she is,” he said and wrapped an arm around your shoulders.

You smiled politely.

Your father gestured towards the Tyrell patriarch.

“Mace, this is my daughter (y/n). Sweetie this is Mace Tyrell,” your father said.

You shook Mr. Tyrell’s hand.

“A pleasure to meet you sir.”

He shook your hand and smiled. “A firm grip, you’re like your father I see,” he joked.

Your father let out a laugh. “She’s a real chip off the old block. She started with us this year and has already gone far beyond what we expected.”

Mr. Tyrell looked at you approvingly. “That’s great to hear Manfrey.” Then he turned around and called out, “Margaery!”

A young woman, probably your age or slightly younger, walked over. She was beautiful, the kind of beautiful that turned heads everywhere she went.

Too bad your heart was spoken for.

So you admired her beauty the way you would admire a friend’s.

Mr. Tyrell placed a hand on Margaery’s back. “Manfrey, (y/n), this is my daughter Margaery.”

Margaery curtsied and bowed her head to your father then to you.

“A pleasure to meet you Margaery,” your father said and gave your shoulder a slight squeeze.

You turned to him with a furrowed brow then turned back to Margaery.

“It’s nice to meet you,” you told her.

She met your gaze. “The pleasure is mine (y/n).”

Your father cleared his throat. “I think we should let these two get acquainted, don’t you agree Mace?”

Mr. Tyrell nodded. “Absolutely.” He turned to Margaery. “Have fun sweetie,” he said, then gave her a kiss on the cheek.

You looked at your father, confused, but he just gave you a firm look. You’d seen that look before, mostly during business meetings when he needed you to close a deal with an associate.

You weren’t sure what kind of deal he wanted you to close with Margaery.

You’d have to ask him afterwards.

Soon you and Margaery were alone.

Once her father was out of earshot she let out a deep breath.

“Thank Gods they’re gone.”

You smiled. “You didn’t have to curtsey. My father might be a duke on paper but no one really cares about that around these parts.”

She returned your smile. “My father would’ve killed me if I didn’t. He told me I needed to make a very good impression with your family.”

A server walked by with a tray of champagne flutes. Margaery turned and grabbed two. Then she handed one to you.

You took it and thanked her.

“Why did you need to make a good impression?” You asked her as you took a sip of your drink.

She took a long drink from her own flute before responding.

“I have no idea. All he said was to make a good impression and get to know you.”

You furrowed your brow. “That’s interesting. I wonder what he and my father are up to.”

Margaery’s smile returned. “My father is always up to something, though he usually involves my brother and not me.”

You clinked your glass against hers. “Cheers to that. My father's go to is my brother as well.”

“Hmm, how curious,” Margaery replied.

The conversation didn’t last much longer. Margaery’s eye had wandered to one of the more handsome servers and yours was constantly checking the entrance for any sign of Alicent.

After speaking with Margaery you made your rounds with business associates and with family. Your mother had asked your opinion of Margaery, which you noted was peculiar, and your brother had asked if you thought she was pretty.

Were they trying to set you up with her? Did she even like women?

Your mother and brother would not reveal anything so you knew you’d have to ask your father.

You spotted him going to his study so you followed him but as you neared you stopped dead in your tracks.

Alicent was at the door. Aemond was taking her coat and handing it to one of the doormen.

You walked over to them, as calmly as you could but everything inside of you wanted to run over.

Aemond saw you first. He walked up to you and gave you a hug.

“Happy Christmas (y/n),” he said as he wrapped his arms around you.

You returned his embrace. “Merry Christmas, Aemond.”

Alicent met your gaze over Aemond’s shoulder. The world stilled.

A lump formed in your throat as you pulled away from Aemond and Alicent stepped forward.

”Merry Christmas (y/n). Thank you for extending us an invitation,” Alicent said and approached you for a hug.

The smell of her vanilla perfume wrapped around you and flooded your senses as Alicent neared.

You stepped away from her.

Alicent froze.

You cleared your throat and plastered a polite smile. “I’m sorry. I… My father had sent me on an errand for him before I saw you two. It was urgent so I should uhm..I should get back to that. It’s lovely seeing you both.” You looked over at Aemond, unable to bear the weight of Alicent’s gaze. “Have fun.”

Then you walked away as fast as your legs could go. You rounded a corner and stopped to steady your breathing.

A year had gone by and the second Alicent laid eyes on you. It felt like no time had passed and you were still the foolish girl standing in that bathroom, swallowing your tears and promising to forget an unforgettable night.

Suddenly the door to your left opened and out came the server who had carried a tray of champagne earlier. His hair was disheveled and he was hurriedly buttoning his shirt back on. He caught you staring and turned a deep red.

“Miss,” he said and bowed his head as he walked away.

You furrowed your brow and wondered what had happened but the answer came second later as Margaery emerged from the same room.

Her hair was also slightly mussed. She noticed you and straightened herself instantly.

“(Y/n),” she started.

Forgetting all about Alicent you smiled at Margaery. “It seems you’ve certainly made a good impression on that boy.”

Margaery eyed you nervously then let out a small laugh. “And on you?”

You held out your arm towards her. “I respect a woman who goes after what she wants.”

Margaery wrapped her arm around yours and smiled. “I knew I’d like you.”

You escorted Margaery back to the party then parted ways when your brother called you over to speak with some foreign investors.

As conversation of donations and business dragged on, your eyes wandered. You scanned the breadth of the ball room for any sign of Alicent.

Now that you had calmed down you realized how rude it was of you to reject her greeting of a polite embrace.

But it was so hard to think straight upon seeing her.

Especially in the dress she’d arrived in. It was a beautiful shade of green that brought out the deep hues of her auburn hair and amber eyes.

You found her across the room, next to Aemond and a few old college colleagues. She looked bored.

Ask her for a dance.

You shoved the impulsive thought aside. You knew better.

Your brother’s ramblings tore your attention from Alicent back to him and the investors. It felt like torture to be so close and so impossibly far from her. You recalled feeling the same way at graduation.

At least she was alone this time. You didn’t have to endure seeing her on the arm of some man.

At long last your brother offered to smoke a cigar with the investors and led them away.

Finally alone you made your way towards Alicent.

You had to apologize.

But as you neared she excused herself and walked outside.

You followed her out to the gardens behind the estate. They were expansive but the path immediately in front of you, which Alicent walked on, led to a private bench and fountain. You had spent a lot of time in that secret alcove as a child, running away from responsibilities and your family’s tiring rules.

Alicent sat down on the bench in front of the small fountain.

You lingered in the hedges behind her, suddenly reminded of being a peeping tom again.

“It seems your peeping tom ways haven’t changed,” Alicent joked and turned her head towards you.

You emerged from the shadows of the hedges and sat down next to her on the bench, careful not to sit too close to her.

“I wanted to apologize, for earlier,” you explained.

Alicent looked down at her hands in her lap. “You have nothing to apologize for (y/n).”

You looked at the fountain. “It was rude of me.”

She looked up and over at you. “It’s alright. I expected something like that to happen.”

You met her gaze. “Really?”

Alicent looked away and sighed. "We didn’t exactly part on the greatest of terms last we saw each other.”

You nervously thumbed at a loose strand on your trouser seams. “I was surprised you came.”

“Aemond insisted,” Alicent replied nervously.

“Is that the only reason?” You asked, briefly wondering if you were a glutton for punishment. Asking questions you knew lead nowhere good.

“Do you want me to say it was because I wanted to see you?” Alicent countered, the warmth and teasing tone of earlier completely gone.

“Only if it’s the truth,” you replied.

Alicent let out another sigh and shook her head. “What good is the truth?” She confessed bitterly.

You took a steadying breath before reaching out to touch the top of her hand. “I’ve missed you,” you confessed.

“Don’t say that,” Alicent replied and pulled her hand away.

You turned your body towards her. “Why not?”

Alicent met your gaze. “It doesn’t change anything.”

A knot rose in your throat. You swallowed hard.

Alicent’s gaze softened. “I don’t mean to be cruel (y/n).”

You looked away and turned back towards the fountain. You didn’t want her to see the tears that started to cloud your vision.

Alicent reached out and touched the top of your hand. “(y/n)..”

“Have you missed me?,” you blurted out.

A true glutton for punishment.

You blinked away the tears that welled in your eyes.

Alicent pulled her hand away and stood. “I should go back in.” She smoothed her dress and turned towards the hedges.

You clenched your jaw and softly shook your head. “Do you have any idea how pathetic it feels to miss someone who doesn’t care about you at all…”

Alicent turned back towards you. She stared at you but didn’t say anything.

You couldn’t tell if the look in her eyes was pity or guilt.

You stood and closed the distance between you and Alicent. “It’s the worst feeling in the world.”

Alicent opened her mouth to reply but was cut off by a servant running out of the hedges. She caught her breath then informed you your father was calling for you.

You dismissed her then turned to Alicent. “Enjoy the rest of your night, Mrs. Targaryen.”

Alicent’s gaze dropped at the mention of her married name.

You knew it was petty and childish to call her that but you had been vulnerable with her and she couldn’t even pretend to have cared.

You made your way back to your father. He was surrounded by his colleagues and Margaery’s father.

He saw you and smiled. “Come my girl,” he called.

You reached him and greeted the crowd around him.

“It’s time,” he said and left.

Your father walked up to the stage at the front of the room then waited as the singer finished her song and introduced your father.

Everyone clapped as he walked to center stage and adjusted the microphone.

“Thank you, thank you everyone. I hope you’re enjoying yourselves. This Christmas is a special one. Our family is whole once more, and I’m happy to announce it’s expanding,” you father declared then he asked you to join him on stage.

You did as he said and once on stage he wrapped an arm around your shoulder.

“(y/n) has not only joined our philanthropic efforts but she has gone above and beyond all expectations. She has truly made the family name proud,” you father cheered.

Everyone clapped.

You smiled sheepishly. You could barely make out those standing closest to the stage, the bright lights blinding you to the rest of the room.

Then your father invited Margaery and her family to the stage.

You weren’t sure where he was going with his speech. What did it have to do with the Tyrells?

Soon the whole Tryell clan was on stage next to you and your father.

“I am more than happy to announce that after many centuries of feuding, Mace and I will finally put that ancient history to bed and unite our esteemed families,” your father elocuted.

You wanted to look at your father. You wanted to furrow your brows.

But you knew better than to show any real emotion while in front of the spotlight.

So you plastered a fake smile on your face and clapped along with the crowd.

“This coming spring my youngest daughter (y/n) will wed Margaery Tyrell and usher our family into a new, prosperous, and progressive era.” Your father gave your shoulder a squeeze.

Your stomach dropped.

You finally turned to your father.

The look on his face was a diplomatic one.

You knew you wouldn’t be able to ask anything until you were in private.

So you turned to Margaery, who seemed just as shocked as you by the news, and smiled at her.

Your father encouraged you and Margaery to hold hands so you reached out and laced your fingers with hers.

Her hand shook and you did your best to give her a comforting look.

By the look on her face it brought nothing of the sort. She had gone absolutely pale.

After the announcement your father had led you and the Tyrell clan to his office.

You held your composure as you sat down in an armchair facing the roaring hearth.

The second the door to the study closed Margaery let out a flurry of expletives and demanded her father tell her the truth.

Her father explained to her this was the best choice for their family and that they had even accommodated her desire for a nontraditional spouse.

Margaery hurled more expletives then declared she would never marry.

She stormed out of the study and slammed the door behind her.

Your gaze remained on the burning fire.

It didn’t feel real.

“Don’t worry, we’ll get her on board,” Mace said and shook your father’s hand.

Then he and the rest of the Tyrells walked out.

It was just you and your father.

He poured himself a glass of bourbon then sat in the armchair across from you.

“You kept your composure out there. I’m proud of you (y/n).”

He took a long drink then pulled out a small box from his suit pocket. He handed it to you.

You tore your gaze from the fire and looked at it.

It was a ring box.

You took it and opened it.

“Your grandmother’s ring, I’m sure she’d be proud,” your father told you. Then he took another drink. “It should be sufficient for the Tyrells.”

You shut the box and pocketed it. Then you looked up at your father.

“May I be excused,” you asked.

He nodded.

You stood and started for the door when he reached out and grabbed you by the wrist.

You stopped and looked over at him.

He cleared his throat. “You will marry her. If she won’t come around you need to find a way.”

You swallowed the lump in your throat. “Yes father.”

He let go of your wrist and you walked out.

You needed air. You needed to be alone.

So you walked towards the gardens.

But as you did you passed by the foyer and noticed Aemond helping with Alicent’s coat.

Panic spread throughout your body.

Had she heard?

You walked over to the door.

“Leaving so soon,” you asked, hoping the panic didn’t come through in your voice.

Aemond met your gaze and stepped away from Alicent. He walked over to you and put a hand on your shoulder.

“Mom’s not feeling so well,” Aemond explained. He gave your shoulder a squeeze. “But congrats on the engagement. You didn’t tell me you were seeing anyone you dog,” he joked.

You turned to Alicent.

She wouldn’t look at you.

“I..,” you started but didn’t continue.

What could you say?

Not the truth. Your father would have your head.

So you stared at her, mouth agape, scrambling for a way to make her stay.

Thankfully the universe intervened on your behalf.

For once it was on your side.

Your butler came through the front door with a severe look on his face. You looked at him and he met your gaze.

“My apologies miss (y/n) but your guests won’t be able to leave,” he stated.

Alicent looked up at him. “What do you mean?”

Your butler explained there had been a horrible landslide on the highway leading out of town. The officials had already been notified and first responders were on the scene but it would be hours before it would be safe to travel.

Then he excused himself to let the others know.

Alicent turned to Aemond. “We will just have to stay at a hotel in town and leave tomorrow morning then.”

You shook your head. “Nonsense, you two can stay here with us. We have plenty of rooms.”

Alicent finally met your gaze. “You’re too kind (y/n) but we couldn’t ask that of you. We’ll be alright in town.”

“I have to insist that both of you stay. Think of it as repayment for letting me stay in your home last year,” you replied.

You could tell Alicent was trying to form a polite way to decline.

Aemond looked between the two of you, his brow furrowed.

You turned to Aemond. “It’s not a bother. I’d really like you both to stay the night.”

“Thank you for your offer (y/n),” Aemond said and turned to his mother. “We’ll stay here for the night then drive home in the morning.”

Alicent started to protest but Aemond had already asked you to lead the way.

You led Alicent and Aemond to the west wing of the estate where the guest rooms were. The house staff scurried to ready the rooms.

“Seems we won’t be the only ones staying,” Aemond commented.

“I doubt my father would let anyone try to go home in these conditions,” you replied.

You showed Alicent her room first.

She excused herself to freshen up before turning in.

Then you led Aemond to his room.

It was just around the corner from Alicent’s.

You started to excuse yourself but Aemond reached out to stop you.

“We have to talk,” he said.

By the tone of his voice you knew it was something serious.

Your stomach twisted at the thought.

You led Aemond inside his room and he closed the door behind him.

“What did you want to talk about,” you asked.

He leaned against the wall. “I want the truth.”

“About what,” you asked, dread filling your chest.

He scoffed. “You know exactly what.” Then he sighed and sat down on the bed. “I know something happened between you and my mother.”

Your stomach dropped. “What,” you choked out.

He shook his head softly. “Don’t deny it (y/n). You left our house in such a rush last year and nothing was the same afterwards.”

You remained silent.

Aemond crossed his arms against his chest. “When I told her about the party tonight she got so nervous and she fidgeted the whole way here.”

“I’m sure she was just nervous about what your grandfather would think. He hates my family after all,” you replied, hoping he would accept the lie like he had before.

“No, I want the truth (y/n).” Then he met your gaze. “You owe me that…we were best friends once, weren’t we?”

Your heart broke at the sound of his voice. You looked down at the floor in shame. “Yeah,” you replied, defeated.

“Then tell me what happened,” Aemond pleaded.

You sighed and sat down next to Aemond on the bed. You told him the truth. You told him you and Alicent had slept together. You told him it wasn’t because of the bet the two of you had made. You had always thought his mom was beautiful and that night…well one thing led to another.

“I suspected as much,” Aemond breathed with a sigh when you finished.

“I told you it had all been a lie because she wanted us to act like nothing had happened. I had already told you so I thought you’d believe it was just a joke.” You continued, your thumb still toying with the loose strand on your trousers.

“Is that why you pulled away from me when classes started again,” Aemond asked and turned to you.

You looked over at him. “Not explicitly but maybe subconsciously.”

Aemond nodded slowly. “I noticed and I wanted to say something but when I realized my mother was also acting strange I just froze. I wasn’t sure what to do or say.”

A moment of silence passed between you.

“Maybe that’s also why I pulled away, especially once Alys and I got together,” Aemond wondered aloud.

“I’m sorry for lying to you Aemond but it wasn’t my place to out anyone,” you told him.

Aemond looked down at his hands. “Do you have feelings for my mother?” Then he looked over at you again. “Real feelings,” he clarified.

You smiled earnestly. “I do.” Then you sighed. “I haven’t stopped thinking about her once since last Christmas.”

“My mother had a very traditional, conservative, upbringing. If she is bi, or gay, or whatever she might be…it would be hard for her to accept that about herself. It would be hard for her to be anything but what my grandfather had told her to be,” Aemond confessed.

You let out a sarcastic laugh. “I understand that more than ever.”

Aemond eyed you, confused.

“I didn’t know I’d end up engaged tonight,” you told him.

“Really?”

You nodded. “I just met the girl. I had no idea my father had plans to marry me off.”

“Do you have feelings for her?” He asked cautiously.

“No, but that doesn’t matter to my father.” You sighed and stood up.

“What are you going to do?” Aemond stood as well.

You shrugged. “I don’t know. She didn’t seem happy about our engagement either but my father has ordered me to get her on board if her family can’t convince her.”

Aemond frowned. “That’s fucked.”

“Beyond fucked,” you replied with a laugh.

Aemond ran a hand through his hair. “Why not just tell your father you won’t do it?”

You shook your head. “I can’t. My father would never forgive me. They’d disown me again.”

“You lived through banishment once,” Aemond countered.

“Yeah but I had friends. I had you,” you replied then wrapped your arms around yourself. “I haven’t spoken or seen any of my friends since graduation. Half of them didn’t even pick up the phone when I called to invite them tonight. If I lose my family again, I have no one.”

Aemond reached out and gave your shoulders a squeeze. “You still have me,” he said with a hopeful smile.

You smiled back at him. “Thanks.”

A knock at the door startled you.

One of your staff walked in and informed you that your mother was looking for you.

You thanked her and she excused herself.

You told Aemond someone would come by with spare night clothes then excused yourself.

You found your mother in the hall, showing a few family friends where to find their rooms. She told you to go to your father’s study so you made your way back there.

Once inside you saw Margaery and her family gathered there with your father.

Your father sat at his desk. He stood when you walked in.

“Wonderful news (y/n),” he said and instructed you to sit next to Margaery on the chaise.

Margaery’s father informed you that Margaery had come around to the engagement.

“Let’s leave the brides to get to know one another,” your father declared then he led Mace Tyrell out the door.

Margaery’s other family members followed and soon you were alone with her once again.

“Did you know,” Margaery asked in a hushed voice.

You sighed. “No. It was a surprise to me too.”

Margaery looked over at you. “I would’ve never guessed. You handled it so well.”

“My family is all about their image. I’m a well trained dog,” you replied, not meeting her gaze.

“Why aren’t you angry,” Margaery asked, a pensive look on her face.

“There’s no point,” you confessed. “My father always gets what he wants.”

Margaery folded one leg over the other. “And what would he do if he didn’t?”

“Probably disown me, again,” you replied, tired.

“He disowned you?” Margaery’s eyes widened.

You nodded. “Once. It was horrible, and lonely.”

“That sounds awful,” Margaery said and placed a comforting hand on your knee.

You shrugged. Then you turned to her. “Wouldn’t your family do the same?”

“No, never.”

You furrowed your brows. “Then why are you going through with this?”

Margaery looked away from you then bit the corner of her lip. “Can I trust you?”

“Of course.”

“We’re broke,” Margaery said with a sigh.

“You’re broke?”

“Mhm, and we need your family to help us through it.”

You looked down and noticed the outline of the ring box in your trouser pocket. “I see.”

Your father had probably left you alone so you could give Margaery the ring. You reached in your pocket then turned to Margaery.

When you looked over at her you noticed something in her gaze softened. She titled her head to the side.

“Maybe we could grow to love one another,” Margaery said and ran her thumb across your cheek. “You’re quite easy on the eyes (y/n).”

You smiled and let out a nervous laugh. “Thank you, but I have to be honest with you. Since you were honest with me.”

Margaery dropped her hand from your face. “What is it? You don’t think I’m pretty?”

You dropped the ring box back in your pocket and put a hand up towards Margaery. Your brows shot up.

“Oh no, it’s not that. You’re gorgeous Margaery, it's just that…my heart is spoken for.”

“Oh,” she replied, a bit of disappointment laced in her voice.

You smiled softly. “I’m sure we’ll be great friends Margaery, and I’ll come to care deeply for you in our marriage but I could never be in love with you,” you confessed.

“If someone has already claimed your heart, why aren’t you with them?”

“That’s a long story,” you said with a sigh.

Margaery stood and poured you both drinks from your father’s bar.

“Your father said to get acquainted so..” she said and handed you a drink. “Let’s get acquainted.”

So you told her everything.

When you finished Margaery let out a deep breath.

“(y/n) you poor, darling, idiot. Fucking your best friend’s mother…even I haven’t done that,” she said.

“I did worse than that Margaery. I fell in love with her,” you replied.

Margaery wrapped an arm around your shoulders. “A hopeless romantic,” she teased with a small smile.

You smiled back. “Thanks for listening to me go on and on.”

“What are fiancé’s for?” Margaery joked. Then she gave your cheek a quick pinch. “I think we will be the best of friends (y/n).”

You laced your hand with hers. “I agree.” You gave her hand a squeeze. “And the best part is I will be happy to hear all about your romantic and sexual dalliances during our marriage, as long as you keep them quiet, what with the family image to uphold,” you joked.

Margaery laughed. “Of course.”

A servant came in and informed Margaery her family was leaving via helicopter. The two of you hugged and said your goodbyes.

You walked out to the ballroom where everyone was slowly clearing out for the night. You grabbed an unopened bottle of champagne and made your way to your room.

A whole bottle of champagne later you laid in your bed and stared at the ceiling.

You were really going to marry a complete stranger.

And for what?

Your father’s pride?

You sighed and got ready for bed.

But sleep wouldn’t come.

You tossed and turned for hours until you gave up and decided to get some fresh air.

You wrapped your robe tightly around you and slipped on your outdoor slippers.

Just as you started for the door your eye caught on your grandmother’s ring. You grabbed the box and slipped it in your robe pocket.

The night air was crisp. It felt good against your skin.

You took a deep breath as you made your way through the garden.

You sat down in front of the small fountain. The stars twinkled overhead.

You thumbed the ring box in the pocket of your robe.

You brought it out and opened it.

You ran your finger over the diamonds.

Soon tears pooled in your eyes.

Your future was set.

You’d marry Margaery. Your father would want heirs so you’d probably have kids. You’d work at your father’s company until you retired. Then you’d sit all alone in your estate as your kids and Margaery all lived their own lives.

Tears started to cloud your vision.

A slave to your family name.

The tears spilled over. You wiped them away with the sleeve of your robe.

You froze when you heard footsteps behind you.

You stood up and faced the hedges.

“Who is there,” you asked as you shoved the ring box back in your robe.

It was quiet for a moment.

Then she walked out from the shadows.

Alicent stopped just short of where you stood.

“Who’s the peeping tom now,” you joked.

A small smile spread across Alicent’s face.

But it was gone just as quickly as it had come.

“I didn’t mean to intrude. I couldn’t sleep so I came out for some air. I…I’ll go,” Alicent said and turned her back to you.

You reached out and grabbed her hand.

“Don’t, please,” you begged.

Alicent didn’t meet your gaze but she gave a small nod.

You sat back down on the bench and she sat on the other side of it.

“What brings you out here so late,” Alicent asked.

You sighed. “Everything.”

Alicent turned her head towards you. “Are you alright (y/n)?”

You shook your head. Then you brought out the ring box.

Alicent’s gaze shifted towards the ring box.

You opened it and showed it to her. “It was my grandmother’s.”

Alicent took it and ran her finger across the diamond. “It’s beautiful.”

“My father handed it to me and said my grandmother would be proud,” you recalled with a sigh.

Alicent handed the box back to you. “I’m sure she would be.”

You pocketed the box and let out a scoff. “What would she be proud of?”

You stood and walked to the fountain. You looked down at your reflection in the water, the moon high above you.

“I’m going to marry a woman I don’t know and don’t love for my father’s sake… My grandmother would’ve called me a coward,” you finished and turned to look at Alicent.

She furrowed her brow. “You don’t know her?”

You shook your head then sat down next to Alicent on the bench, your body facing hers. “I just met her tonight.”

“Oh,” Alicent responded, she looked away from you but you noticed a shy smile prying at her lips.

You looked down at your hands, a smile on your face.

“You know she caused such a scene in my father’s study that I thought her family would break off the engagement.”

You let out a small laugh at the memory of Margaery cursing in front of your father.

Alicent turned back to face you. “A scene,” she asked.

You nodded. “Our engagement was a surprise to her as well. She was not on board,” you explained.

“What changed?” Alicent tucked a lock of auburn hair behind her ear.

You remembered how soft her hair had felt in your fingers. You wished to reach out and touch her but you knew better.

So you looked away from her and took a steadying breath.

“I spoke with her, alone, and she explained that her family is in financial hardship and needs my family name to get through it.”

You looked up and met Alicent’s gaze. The moonlight washed over her porcelain skin. She looked positively angelic.

“I wanted to explain to you,” you started. “I didn’t want you to think what I said in the garden was a lie.”

Alicent softened. She reached out and touched the top of your hand. “I know your heart.”

You turned your hand over and laced your fingers with hers. You stroked the palm of her hand with your thumb.

After a moment in comfortable silence Alicent let out a breath and spoke.

“So you’re moving forward with the engagement?”

You shrugged. “What else can I do?”

Alicent brought your hand into her lap. “Surely your father would understand if you couldn’t go through with it?”

“Would yours?”

Alicent didn’t reply.

You looked over at Alicent. “What did it feel like…being in an arranged marriage?”

“It’s hard,” Alicent said with an exasperated breath. She closed her eyes. “You try to love them but so much of it feels hollow.”

Alicent opened her eyes and turned to you.

Tears had started to pool in your eyes.

Alicent reached out and cupped your cheek. “I don’t mean to scare you (y/n). Maybe it’ll be different for you,” she said, trying to comfort you.

A stray tear fell down your cheek.

You pulled away from Alicent and stood back up.

“It’ll be worse,” you muttered as you walked back over to the fountain.

Alicent stood up and followed you. “Don’t say that,” she chided and placed a hand on your shoulder. “She’s a beautiful girl. I’m sure you’ll grow to love her.”

You clenched your jaw then turned around. “She’s not you,” you confessed.

Alicent’s brows shot up. “I-.”

“I’m in love with you Alicent. Being with anyone else will be torture,” you told her. You reached out and took her by the hands. You brought them to your lips and kissed her knuckles. “I love you,” you murmured into them.

Alicent turned her head and pulled her hands away. “(y/n), please don’t.”

You stepped closer to her, close enough to smell her perfume.

“I’m going to marry someone I will never be able to love. Please…please let me tell you exactly how I feel about you,” you pleaded.

Alicent met your gaze.

Your faces just a breath apart from one another.

“It wouldn’t change anything,” Alicent replied.

“You’re right,” you let out a small sigh. Then you looked down and remembered the ring box in your pocket.

Alicent hooked her finger under your chin and brought your gaze back up to her. “You’ll be alright.”

You looked into Alicent’s eyes, and couldn’t stop yourself from leaning forward.

Your lips met hers.

Alicent cupped your cheek and softly pulled away.

“We can’t,” she whispered.

You leaned into her touch and closed your eyes. “I love you.”

Alicent dropped her hand from your face. “Stop saying that.”

You opened your eyes and frowned. “Why?”

Alicent turned away from you and wrapped her arms around herself. She was quiet.

“I don’t mean to make you uncomfortable Alicent,” you apologized.

“It’s not that,” Alicent turned back around. She rubbed her arms for warmth.

You undid your robe and wrapped it around her shoulders.

“You’re too kind (y/n).”

Alicent pulled the robe tighter around her.

“You deserve all the kindness in the world,” you replied, a rueful smile on your face.

Alicent looked up at the sky and shook her head softly. She looked back at you and bit her lip.

There was something in her gaze you couldn’t quite read.

“What is it,” you asked her.

“I love you too,” she declared with tears in her eyes.

You stepped closer. “What…”

Alicent wiped away the tears that pricked at the corners of her eyes.

“I have not stopped thinking of you since that night.”

You closed the gap between you. “Really?”

Alicent nodded, not trusting her voice.

You cupped her face with your hands. “Why didn’t you say anything? Why didn’t you call or text or-,” you rambled.

“Because it doesn’t matter how we feel. You said it yourself, we are slaves to our family names,” Alicent replied as tears fell down the sides of her face.

You wiped the tears away as they fell.

“It does matter. It matters to me,” you whispered.

Alicent leaned into your touch.

You brought your face closer and leaned your forehead against hers.

You dropped your hands from her face and wrapped them around her waist.

She buried her face in the crook of your shoulder.

You kissed the side of her head. “You know, I was never sure if you felt the same as I did. Sometimes I thought I tricked you into sleeping with me and had imagined any affection you had for me.”

Alicent pulled away just enough to look you in the eye.

“You showed me exactly what I had felt missing my whole life,” she declared.

Then she leaned forwards and brought her lips against yours.

Her kiss was timid but determined. She wrapped her arms around your neck and brought your face closer to hers.

You deepened the kiss and pressed her body against yours.

Desire started to pool between your thighs at the welcomed memory of Alicent's body against your own.

So you pulled away, just enough to speak.

“I need you Ali,” you whispered, breath ragged and spent.

Alicent stared into your eyes.

You noticed how dark her eyes had become.

She nodded and you led her back to your room.

Hours, and more than a handful of orgasms, later Alicent laid her head on your chest and smiled as your breathing steadied.

She laced her fingers with yours.

You smiled up at the ceiling as you ran your hands through her hair. It was just as soft as you remembered.

Alicent lifted her head and looked up at you. “You look lost in thought.”

You looked down at her and smiled. “I’m just so happy right now.”

Alicent kissed your collarbone. “I am too,” she confessed.

You twirled a lock of her hair around your finger. “You’re so beautiful.”

She buried her face in your chest but you caught the blush in her cheeks before she did so.

It brought a satisfied smirk to your lips.

The first streaks of dawn started to filter through the heavy curtains of your windows.

Alicent looked up and realized the time.

“I should get back to my own room,” she said and started to collect herself.

And just like that your carriage had turned into a pumpkin.

You sighed.

“Can’t we just stay in bed a while longer.”

You sat up and watched as she put on the pajamas your staff had given her.

“We have to face reality at some point (y/n),” she said and walked back over to the bed. She gave you a quick peck on your lips.

You caught her arm just as soon as she pulled away. She stopped and looked down at you.

You threw your legs over the side of the bed and pulled her in between your legs.

“Who says we have to do that?”

Alicent smiled languidly. “I would love nothing more than to stay in your bed with you until the end of time but-”

You grabbed her hands and kissed each palm. “But nothing…just stay a little longer,” you begged.

Alicent let out a deep sigh but the smile remained on her face. “Fine,” she resigned in fake annoyance.

You gave her hands a gentle squeeze then looked down at them. You ran your thumb over her ring finger on her left hand.

“You know, my grandmother’s ring would look good on you,” you mused aloud.

Alicent pulled her hand away and stepped back. “That’s cruel,” she snapped.

The air in the room changed in an instant.

You stood and followed her. You put your hands on her arms and she turned around.

“I’m sorry,” you started.

Alicent sighed then her shoulders sagged. “It’s fine I just don’t like thinking of things that can never be,” she reasoned.

You turned and noticed your discarded robe on the edge of the bed. You picked it up and pulled out the ring box.

Why couldn’t it? You thought to yourself.

Your father would hate you.

But you’d have Alicent.

You’d have Alicent…she just needed to say yes.

You opened the ring box then turned back to Alicent.

She eyed you curiously.

You got down on one knee.

Alicent’s eyes widened. “(y/n),” she started.

“Marry me,” you declared and held the ring towards her.

“You can’t be serious,” she stuttered.

You stood and looked her in the eyes. “Now that I know you feel the same as I do, I can’t marry Margaery. The only woman I want to be with is you,” you declared.

Alicent’s mouth fell open. “I- I don’t know what to say. (y/n) we hardly know each other.”

You shrugged. “We’ll have plenty of time to get to know one another.” You got down on one knee again. “So say yes,” you urged.

Alicent walked to the other side of the room. “It would never work,” she argued. Then she started to pace about the room. “I’m a widow with three grown children. What would they say if we married? You have your whole life ahead of you (y/n).” Alicent stopped pacing and looked at you, her anxiety and fear written all over her face. “Your father will disown you.”

You walked to where Alicent stood and smiled at her. “I don’t care what others will say. I don’t care if my father disowns me. I don’t care if they take my inheritance away.”

“But (y/n),” Alicent started to protest but you held up a hand to stop her.

“I love you. I want to be with you. Do you want to be with me?”

Alicent held your gaze. “Are you sure?”

You nodded. “More than I’ve ever been before.”

Alicent bit the inside of her cheek. Then she looked down at her hands, she nervously toyed with them.

“Everything would change. I’m scared,” Alicent whispered.

“I can be brave enough for the both of us,” you said and brought her gaze back up to meet yours.

You gave her a tender kiss then stroked her bottom lip with your thumb.

“Please, let me love you the way you deserve. Let me fill your days with joy and your nights with endless bliss,” you professed.

Alicent let out a great sigh then let out a nervous laugh. “I don’t deserve you (y/n).”

You shook your head. “Yes you do.”

Alicent kissed your lips, then your cheeks, then your forehead.

You laughed then got back down on one knee. “Let’s try this again,” you joked.

Alicent smiled down at you.

You took the ring from the box and held it up towards Alicent. “Alicent Hightower, will you do me the absolute honor of marrying me?”

“Yes,” Alicent replied, tears in her eyes.

You stood and slipped the ring onto her finger. Then you brought her hand up to your lips and kissed her knuckles.

Alicent took a steadying breath then wiped the tears from her eyes. She admired the ring on her finger.

Then her smile dropped.

She looked up at you.

“What are we going to tell Aemond?”

“We’ll tell him he can call me Mom,” you joked with a smirk.

Alicent’s smile returned. She swatted at your arm. “You’re impossible.”

You brought her lips to yours and slowly drifted back to your bed. It would be another couple hours before either of you got back up.

Aemond sat at the foot of the bed, stupefied.

“You’re marrying my mother,” he asked aloud.

You sat down next to him and placed a hand on his shoulder. “You’re damn right I am, son.”

Aemond’s face soured at the sound of the word.

“Do not call me that ever again.”

You laughed. “Fine, but I won’t mind if you call me Mom.”

Aemond shook his head. “Absolutely not.”

Then the two of you went out to find Alicent and break the news to your family. It didn’t matter if they hated you. It didn’t matter if they disowned you. You had Alicent and you had Aemond. You would have a new family.

#alicent hightower #alicent hightower x reader #house of the dragon imagine #alicent higtower imagine

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notdotspot · 2 days ago

Text

Dp x Dc Shots by LMFAO

Masterpost

Danny watched as the Batmobile and Jason’s motorcycle raced down the streets heading into the outskirts of the city. They came upon an estate with a mansion that reminded him of Vlad’s. The Batman took a sharp turn into the forest surrounding the property. A few miles into the woods, the ground opened up into a cave.

“I guess it really is a cave.”

Danny followed them down the tunnel. The jagged rocks of the dark cave eventually led them to a large cavern housing technology like he had never seen. On the largest platform, a wall of screens and a few more suited heroes waited for them. Parking the vehicles was quick as everyone unloaded, and Danny let his legs reform to touch down on the ground.

Steph skips over to the new strangers. “Phantom. Here is the rest of the team. This is Black Bat or Casandra.” Danny assessed the girl. She seemed reserved but she waved at him anyway.

“This is Signal.”

“Duke,” he says shaking Danny’s hand.

Next to him, a taller man in black spandex with a blue symbol across his chest steps up. He fashes the brightest smile Danny has ever seen.

“Nightwing. Dick. Do not worry, I have heard every joke in the book.”

“And I am Oracle. Barbara. Nice to meet you Phantom.”

“How do you know my name?”

“We were watching the whole interaction. Can never be too safe in Gotham, especially when we are planning to reveal our identities.”

“It is always good to have someone watching your back.” Danny tried not to let his sadness reach his voice. It has been so many years, but being Phantom without Sam and Tucker has been hard. He misses them. He misses Jazz, too. He misses everyone from Amity Park. Even though his life there consisted of getting bullied and fighting ghosts, it was still his home.

“But you do not seem to have anyone watching yours,” an older gentleman says from behind the new Bats. “Alfred Pennyworth, at your service.”

“Do not worry about me. The people watching my back know when they are needed.”

“Frostbite, I am assuming? I heard you say the name when answering the phone after we met,” Tim chimes in.

“Yes, he is one of many looking out for me.” Danny could tell they were prying at his life, and he was not about to explain the intricacies of the Infinite Realms. He preferred keeping his royal status under wraps, too. Danny is very aware of his abilities, but he is not interested in scaring the life out of a group of mortals that live in a world nearly sealed from ghost activity. “Should we not get started? I do not think Jason wants to be stinky for longer than he needs to.”

“Correct. So, how does this work?”

“Um. It might be a slightly weird process, but I can explain it to the best of my ability. You will not understand everything I say so do not be afraid to ask questions.”

Danny is sitting across from Jason near the med-bay. Their spot was per Bruce’s request in case anything went wrong. He was getting increasingly nervous, with the eyes of the Batfamily watching him intently. Jason had removed his helmet and domino masks. The first feature that caught Danny’s eye was the white streak in his hair. It reminds him of the time he got rid of his powers and gained his own streak.

“So my theory on how this happened was originally that you must have absorbed tainted ectoplasm, and your human body could not handle the energy.”

“Orginally? Your theory has changed?” Bruce asks.

“I think so. For it to be correct, Jason would have had to be dead when he absorbed the tainted ectoplasm.” The room seemed to still. Gazes that were once pinned on him shifted between Bruce and Jason. Silence fills the room like a dense cloud.

“I can not say for sure,” Jason speaks, eyeing Bruce over Danny’s shoulder. “But, yeah, probably.”

“I am sorry.” Danny places a hand on Jason’s knee. It is the only comfort he can provide that feels appropriate. Dick slides onto the cushioned exam table, putting an arm around him with a slight squeeze. The whole family seems to inch closer in an attempt to comfort their brother.

“Death is a hard reality to face, but it is even harder to be the one that has to live through it.” Jason’s eyes meet Danny’s, a look of understanding passing between them.

“The people around you stop mourning because you are back, but you never got the chance to mourn the person you once were. That is okay because you can start now.” Jason gives a small nod of affirmation. He can tell there are teary eyes in the room, but Danny’s attention does not leave Jason.

“Would you like me to explain my theory or should I begin?”

“I want to know why I am like this.”

“The streak in your hair reminded me of a case I had seen before. When people die, they develop an ectoplasmic core. The Lazurus Pit, as you call it, contains tainted ectoplasm. If I am correct, your core did not have time to form properly, and getting dunked shocked you back into the living world. You are alive, but you have a partial core and partial ghost DNA that is feeding on the residual ectoplasm. Ghost emotions work differently than mortal ones. The Pit Madness, you called it, is likely your usage of ectoplasm past the point of your production rate. Unfortunately, it is tainted, so instead of exhaustion, you get reactivity.”

“So, how will you fix it?” Jason’s voice was deep and serious, but it was impossible to miss the hope lining his words.

“My body produces ectoplasm by converting the food I eat. It is as pure as it gets. I am hoping infusing you with my ectoplasm will cleanse what is remaining of the Lazurus Pit and leave you with enough to spare for the rest of your life, as I said at the Bat Burger.”

“Where does the weird part come in?”

“Well. There is only one way to transfer ectoplasm to you in a controlled way. You have to drink my blood. I can ensure it is the correct amount. While I could use any body fluid, I think blood is the least disgusting.”

“I see your point. I am ready.”

“Should warn you, I am not entirely sure how you will react or if it will work at all.”

“It is a risk I am willing to take.”

“Jason,” Bruce calls, “Are you sure?”

“Yes. This is the closest I will ever be to a solution.” Dick catches Jason’s eye. They give a small nod to each other. Jason looks away, scanning the room. A room filled with his family who are all here to support him. “I have to take my chance.”

Alfred brings over a cart. Needles, blades, and glassware ranging from tubes to beakers litter the surface.

“Our equipment is at your disposal.”

“Thank you, but all I will need is this.” Danny grabs a beaker with small enough units to get an accurate and precise measurement based on his calculations.

“I brought my own.” Grabbing a small blade from his suit pocket, which is actually a small pocket dimension. “Your blades and needles would not penetrate my skin.” He makes a small cut on his hand. Danny is aware that it is the dumbest place to give himself a cut, but it is what they do in movies. He wants to look cool.

Holding his hand over the beaker, letting the glowing viscous liquid leak from his palm. The Batfamily looks on curiously. The glass fills slowly and the tension in the room rises with every passing minute. He pulls his hand away.

“Forty-four point four milliliters. Perfect.” He shakes his hand and the slash disappears like it was never there.

“That is it? That is like a shot?”

“I guess it is. Are you ready?” Danny asks, handing the small beaker to him.

“Like tequila. Just have to throw it back.” He takes a deep breath, grabbing the glass. He lifts it up, looking around the room. “Cheers!”

Jason swallows down the glob of ectoplasm. His face scrunches as he cringes at the taste. Danny might have laughed if the room were not so electrified with anxiety.

Jason’s eyes open, and they are as bright and green as Danny’s. Next to him, Dick seems to brace for an attack, hand shooting up a baton strapped to his back. Jason struggles to hold in pained grunts. His eyes squeeze shut again, and his hands come up to cradle his head. Dick stands, and the whole room readies to fight.

Danny puts out a hand. In his calmest, sternest voice he can muster, “Stand down. He is okay. He has to fight through.” Dick puts his weapon back and sinks back to the rest of the group. They relax slightly at his words but the tension is still palpable.

Jason’s muscles slowly relax, and his hands fall to his lap, rubbing back and forth across his thighs as he attempts to regain control of his breathing. He takes one final deep breath as his hands still and his eyes flutter open. Back to their normal shade of blue as they flick around to the faces in the room.

“It worked,” Jason utters in an awed whisper.

“How do you know for sure?” Tim questions cautiously.

“I just do. Thank you, Phantom.” The relief in his eyes is enough to put a smile on Danny’s face.

“Danny. You can call me Danny.”

“Thank you, Danny.”

------

may or may not have posted this part on ao3 many hours ago

anyway

I am back. Mostly. I will be posting new stuff every Tuesday!

Thanks for the patience and thanks for reading!

#dpxdc #danny phantom #dp crossover #jason todd #dcu #fanfic #bruce wayne #tim drake #damian wayne #danny is stupid smart and no one ever mentions it

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wandussyfantasy · 1 day ago

Text

I'm Late

Summary: Final part to the Jealous mini series. Kate is afraid that she hasn't had her period in some time and expresses her concern to Y/n

Pairings: Kate Bishop x g!pReader

For: @ravienaa031

Word Count: 1,589

WARNINGS: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DO NOT READ & DO NOT INTERACT!!! smut, g!preader, powerbottom!KateBishop, fingering, dirty talk, fluff, masturbation, oral, sex toys, fantasies, and teasing.

𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐄 𝐍𝐒𝐅𝐖 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓. 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐂𝐄𝐄𝐃 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐂𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍.

You and Kate are lying in your bed, she has her head on your chest and you have an arm around her. The two of you are quiet as you relax after having sex. You sit up a little in the bed and pull out a joint from the drawer in the desk that sits next to your bed. You light it and take a drag. You offer a hit to Kate, as you always do but this time she declines and snuggles her head into your chest more.

“I’m late,” she mumbles as she holds onto you.

“Oh shit, you have a class right now?” You laugh as you try to pull her off.

“No, I'm done with classes for the week,” she replies.

“Then what are you late for? Work? I thought you only work when you're home for the summer.” You take another drag.

“I do,” Kate pouts as she draws invisible shapes on your chest with her finger.

“Then what are you late for?” you set the rest of the joint down on your ashtray. “Do you have something going on for your sorority? Because you seem awfully calm about being late.”

You look into her soft blue eyes and see something serious in them that makes your heart start to beat a little faster. “I’m actually pretty terrified right now,” Kate admits.

You gulp as you come to the conclusion on what she means but you won't say anything about it until she confirms it. Until she says the words. “Kate, what are you late for?”

“My menstrual cycle,” she answers softly.

“Okay,” you start calmly, “have you taken a test? I mean, we've been pretty careful… well most of the time.”

“I was too scared to check without you,” she admits in a small voice. You can't help but stroke her hair. She looks so scared and you aren't quite sure how to comfort her.

“Do we need to go get some?”

“No, I brought some with me. I,” she takes a breath, “I planned on coming here to do that but when I saw you… ugh I couldn't resist doing this!”

“Hey, hey, it's okay. We'll just get dressed and I'll get you some fluids and we'll get you peeing, okay?” Kate nods as you rub her arm to comfort her. “Do you think checking after sex will give a wrong result?” you ask as you jump out of your bed and gather clothes. “Do you have a drink preference? Wait, you probably don’t need something to drink. You usually pee after sex. Unless, are you too nervous? Shit! What do you need from me, Kate?” There are very few times you are ever wishing that you were never born with a penis and right now is one of those times.

Kate stands up and grabs your hands to calm you down and calls your name until you stop rambling and look at her. “I will take the water.”

The five minutes while the two of you wait for the results are the longest minutes of your lives. You sit next to Kate and hold her hand. You try to stay calm but this was nerve wracking. One second she's bouncing on your dick and calling screaming your name and then next she's telling you she might be pregnant. You don't get how this could have happened.

The test, thankfully, comes out negative. The both of you are filled with relief. No baby is on the way. No stress of having to make a decision on whether or not to keep it. No spur of the moment marriage proposal. The two of you can go another day to be irresponsible.

“How should we celebrate?” You ask when you toss the test.

Kate takes your hand and guides you to her bed. You sit in the edge as she lowers herself between your legs. She unzips the fly of your jeans and pulls your limp dick out of your pants. You smirk as you watch her wrap her plump lips around the head of your xockm. “Yeah, that's a great way to celebrate.” You bite your lip as you tangle your fingers in her hair.

You thrust you hips up slightly against her mouth as you feel yourself harden while her lips work her magic on you. You groan as she starts to use her hands on the rest of you as your dick grows in her mouth. “Fuck, Kate.”

She smirks as she looks up at you and takes her shirt off. She pushes her supple breasts together and slipps your thick cock between them. You thrust your hips as she licks the tip of your penis while you fuck her tits. You groan excitedly.

“Where?” You asks since you're close.

“Already?” She smirks.

“Shut up, where?” You groan as you prepare to cum all over her face right now.

She giggles as she drops her breasts and wraps her lips around your cock again. You pump your load into her mouth as her cheeks inflate. But she doesn't let a drop escape. You shudder as you pull your dick away from her mouth and wipes her lips and finish swallowing your load.

Her phone pings and she gets up to check it. You know that ringtone of hers. It's specific to her secret business. Her OnlyFans account. You weren't sure how you felt about it since the two of you began seeing each other exclusively.

“Now I need you to behave yourself. I need to work,” she says as she waves you off her bed. You stand with your dick still hanging out of your pants. She sets up her tripod and pulls out a box of toys from underneath her bed.

You sigh and start to stuff your dick back inside of your pants.

“Where do you think you're going?” Kate asks.

“You want me to stay?”

“Yeah, sit in that chair in the corner. I need you babe. I can't get off anymore without you. It's made my job… work,” she frowns as she changes into her lingerie. You obey her request and sit on the chair in the corner of her room. Watching her from the other side of the camera. You sit with your dick, that's still wet from her lips and watch as she gets into character for whatever sick fucker paid her for the video call.

“Mmm you want me to use that big boy? Oh, I hope it fits in my tiny tiny pussy,” she says in a high pitched voice. You had never heard her sound so pornographic before. You watch as she pulls out a dildo from her toy box and you smirk as it's half your size. She can most definitely handle that dildo. “It's stretching me deep inside zaddy,” she says as she makes a face.

You lick your lips as your dick starts to wake up again. She is riding that silicon cock pretty hard as she makes fake noises of pleasure. It shouldn't turn you on as much as it does but you watched a lot of porn as a teenager. You start to stroke yourself as Kate watches you. She bites her lips as she grips her breasts. She starts to rub her clitoris to get a release. You can hear the moans of the man on the computer and you almost want to shut the computer off but you know it's better to keep from upsetting her client.

Kate can see that you're struggling and she smirks before she puts on a big show of “finishing” for the client. When the man logs off, Kate beckons you over. You shut the laptop closed on the way over. You watch as she pulls the dildo out of her dripping pussy.

“Finish me,” she begs. You toss your clothes and climb on top of her. You kiss her passionately. Your tongue wrestles with hers. You shove your cock deep inside of her. She moans as you pump inside of her. You feel yourself getting close early again. You don't know what has made you so sensitive. You pull out and stroke yourself until you're spurting all over her breasts.

“Sorry,” you say through your groans. You move to put your head between her legs. “I'll take care of you, baby. Don't worry.” You promise against her pussy lips. You lick her moist lips moaning as you taste her. It's become your favorite flavor. You slip your tongue inside of her hole for a few seconds then move to suck on her clitoris. She moans as she pulls in your hair. You hum against her pussy as your hand blindly searches for her dildo.

Kate helps you find it. She places it in your hand. As you continue to pleasure her with your tongue you align the dildo and press the tip in her entrance. You fuck her with the dildo until she is screaming and shuddering. Her intense orgasm causes her to squirt on your face.

You pull away breathlessly with a grin as she continues to squirm on her bed.

“Good thing we don't have to worry about a kid. We'd never get to be that loud again,” you joke with a short laugh as you wipe your face.

Kate scoffs and rolls her eyes. “You'll knock me up soon enough and you know it.”

“Shut up,” you start to stroke your cock again, “or I'll shut you up.”

Kate smirks with a mischievous gaze.

The End.

#kate bishop x y/n #kate bishop smut #kate bishop x reader #marvel smut #kate bishop #smut

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dragqueenstarscream · 16 hours ago

Note

Thinking about what could have happened if Orion in the season 2 2-parter had just a bit more time with Starscream, like what if he’d chosen to leave with Starscream, and what if they’d grown close while camping out somewhere together? Orion knows that he should probably contact the Autobots, clearly from all the info he’s getting now that he’s away from Megatron it’s pointing to things being very clearly in the favor of them being the good guys here, good guys who need the help of their leader. But Orion isn’t Optimus and there’s a part of him that likes being here with Starscream in the harbinger. A part of him that feels like it's been yearning for something like this, a weight off his shoulders. Orion falls for Starscream and Star, despite all the warning signs going off, falls for Orion too.

Eventually, conflict ramps up and Orion out of the goodness of his spark can’t sit by. Orion becomes Optimus, and just like in the show, he can’t remember any of being Orion. Starscream is devastated when he realizes it and he doesn’t know what to do. He stays in the harbinger, surviving and feeling bitter because of course something good couldn’t stay for him. Of course Optimus’s bleeding spark had remained in Orion and couldn’t help sacraficing everything just to help others.

Optimus though, begins to have dreams of memories he can’t recall. All involving starscream. There’s one of them bantering as they go through the harbingers system, his optics catching a genuine smile on Starscream’s face as he laughs at a terrible joke Orion made. There’s them watching the sunset over the desert. There’s a moment of intimacy, Starscream’s legs wrapped around him, condensation on their plating, both of them puffing out exvents. Its all so real and twists his spark until finally he contacts Starscream himself to talk. Just the two of them, at the Harbinger.

And when they talk, when Starscream forces himself to be honest, it comes back to him. Its in pieces, some bits harder to remember than others but the feelings are there and thats what matters. He takes Starscream gently in his arms and tells him how sorry he is for everything, and that if Starscream would be willing, he would want him to join the autobots and stay by his side, to keep him in check.

(its uh, very awkward for the rest of the team at the start, but they’ve also never seen Optimus quite as happy, so maybe, maybe its wirth giving ol screamer a shot as a team mate.)

anytime i see tfp starop fanfics with this premise (which isn't often, but i'll always seek it out), i go absolutely wild because YES. this is honestly one of my favorite premises for tfp starop besides the whole cave scene.

if i had to write the episode myself, i'd write it so that it takes place after orion becomes optimus again, so we can experience everything that happens as starscream and optimus piece it together. optimus is having these dreams once he returns to the outpost, but he can't tell anyone because of who they're about. how is he gonna explain to ratchet that he's been dreaming of starscream's laughter, him and starscream exploring the desert by sunset? how can he tell someone that he's been dreaming of the two of them interfacing beneath the stars? they'd all think he was crazy.

meanwhile, starscream is remembering the bitter end. he's remembering when orion remembered who he was and eventually leaving. of course he's hung up on the end. maybe he'll have brief flashes of their good times together, but he always thinks of optimus leaving him. of course he can't have anything good. everyone who loved him has always left him. optimus is no different.

except optimus actually comes back to him. optimus actively seeks starscream out and tells him that he's remembering what they had, and that, however brief it was, he actually enjoyed it. starscream doesn't believe him at first, but then optimus starts listing off specific details, and starscream knows he's telling the truth.

since starscream's rogue from megatron at this point, he takes optimus up on his offer. it'll be a long road ahead, but they'd learn how to make it work.

#seriously i LOVE that two parter #and the fact that starscream is the one to let optimus in on the truth??#be still my shippy heart #transformers #starscream #optimus prime #transformers prime #tfp starscream #tfp optimus prime #starop #starprime #starscream x optimus prime #maccadam #answering things

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toasttt11 · 1 day ago

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stitches

July 3, 2023

Hayden laughed as Luke bumped into her playfully as they walked out of the locker room.

It was just Hayden and Luke at the rink enjoying some one on one time and just going to skate around for a little bit.

They just grabbed their skates, gloves and sticks not planning to be out there for to long.

Hayden and Luke started passing it back and forth for a while before they ended up across the rink from each other smacking the puck across the ice at each other.

Hayden laughed throwing her head back as Luke ducked avoiding the puck and his face was covered by his curls.

Luke hit the puck back hard and it hit the boards but it didn’t just hit the boards it bounced off the boards and right at Hayden. Luke froze as he watched the puck he hit extremely hard hit Hayden right in the forearm and she groaned her hand coming up to cover her arm.

Luke heart drooped seeing the blood starting to drop on the ice, Hayden never gets hurts and she rarely gets hurt where he can actually see it, he doesn’t remember the last time he saw her bleeding like this.

“Luke.” Hayden called out again through clenched teeth, her arm wasn’t horrible painfully but extremely uncomfortable and she was bleeding pretty bad so they needed to get this checked and stopped bleeding quickly.

Hayden’s pained voice made Luke snapped out of his shock and she skated over quickly, “I’m sorry i’m so sorry Hayden.” Luke quickly rushed out his eyes filled with tears seeing her bloody she looked and he hasn’t even seen her actually injury.

“It’s okay bud but i think we need to head to the hospital.” Hayden calmed spoke to Luke, they were at the rink the one day the whole staff wasn’t there so there was no one there to stitch her up.

Luke froze again but quickly nodded and guided her off the ice even if she could to do herself.

Hayden grabbed a towel when they got to the locker room and got her gloves off holding the towel to her wound, she frowned softly seeing it was a deep gash.

Luke quickly started taking off his own skates and shoving his shoes offs on before kneeling down and taking off Hayden’s skates for her and grabbed her slides for her.

Hayden and Luke walked out of to the car and Luke hovered looking extremely worried as he helped Hayden get into the car before he rushed into the drivers seat and started driving them to the hospital.

Luke’s hands were clenched around the wheel trying to breathe because he is so worried for Hayden.

Luke drove them so quickly to the hospital and he rushed them into the hospital and started talking for Hayden and kept a protective hand on Hayden’s back guiding his big sister to her room making her look at him fondly.

Luke paced as Hayden sat on the bed in the room and the nurse had given her gauze to absorb the bleeding and slow down the bleeding before they stitch up her gash. Luke finally saw her gash and felt even worse.

“Lukey come here.” Hayden gently spoke to her baby brother holding out her good and Luke paused and slowly walked over to her and gently took her hand, “Look at me.”

Luke looked at her with tearful eyes, “I’m okay it’s just a cut that needs a few stitches.” Hayden softly reassured him.

“But i’m the reasoned you got hurt and you never get hurt.” Luke rambled out looking so sorry.

“It’s not your fault, you didn’t purposely try to hit me with the puck it was an accident.” Hayden firmly but calmly told Luke, “I do get hurt sometimes.”

Luke frowned, he never actually sees Hayden hurt and he doesn’t like the reminder that she gets hurt too.

“I forgive you.” Hayden firmly spoke to Luke cupping his face softly making him slowly nod.

Luke stayed right by Hayden’s side as the nurse came back in and started doing stitches on Hayden’s forearm and Hayden got eight stitches.

Hayden’s arm got wrapped up with bandages and she was told what she had to do and when she needed to clean her wound and change her bandages.

Hayden saw Luke look guilty when he heard she shouldn’t go in lake for at least a week and she squeezed his hands softly.

Luke and Hayden finally got to leave the hospital and Luke drove them back to the lake house.

“Hey you guys are back!” Jack looked up from the couch hearing Luke and Hayden walk inside they usually are into gone an hour but it’s been almost three hours.

“Yeah we had to make a stop.” Hayden called back as she took her shoes off and walked into the living room with Luke.

“What happened?” Quinn quickly spoke as he looked up seeing her bandages and quickly got up walking over to her.

“Just got hit with a puck needed a couple stitches.” Hayden calmly spoke reassuring all of the boys that were now looking at her worriedly.

“That means one of you is cooking instead tonight.” Hayden teased as she walked over to the couch and took the empty spot next to Matt and Luke quickly followed her sitting now right next to her and grabbing her hand.

Quinn and Jack shared a look at Hayden’s nonchalant answer but that is just Hayden and they knew they would ask more later especially with how guilty Luke looks they had a feeling he accidentally did something.

“Now what are we watching?” Hayden asked and smirked mischievously as her question made Trevor and Alex both immediately start talking and arguing with each other about what they should watch.

“You okay?” Matt asked quietly leaning closer to her.

“All good.” Hayden whispered back giving him a resisting smile as she began to play with Luke’s curls feeling Luke relax against her.

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shadypeacebouquet · 8 hours ago

Text

Gojo satoru x wife! reader

Warning: nothing! Just pure fluff

A/n : this was my first time writing a gojo fanfic so I was not sure how to portray his personality 😭

Gojo Satoru treasures his beautiful partner and their cute son, Satoshi. Amid playful family moments and teasing banter, love deepens through soft yet intense passion, proving his devotion in every touch.

The first rays of dawn filtered through the sheer curtains, casting a gentle glow over the master bedroom. The soft hum of the city waking up was a distant murmur, but within the Gojo household, a different kind of morning ritual was unfolding.

You stirred awake to the familiar sensation of tiny fingers patting your cheek. Blinking away the remnants of sleep, your gaze met the sparkling blue eyes of your two-year-old son, Satoshi. His white hair, tousled from sleep, framed his cherubic face, making him look even more angelic.

"Mommy, up!" he chirped, his voice a delightful melody that never failed to brighten your day.

A soft chuckle escaped your lips as you sat up, pulling him into your lap. "Good morning, my little sunshine. Did you sleep well?"

Satoshi nodded enthusiastically, his grin widening to reveal the small gap where his baby tooth had recently fallen out. "Dreamed of flying with Daddy!"

Before you could respond, the bed dipped beside you, and a strong arm wrapped around your waist. "Flying, huh? Without me?" Gojo Satoru's playful pout was accompanied by a wink, his blindfold resting askew on his forehead, revealing one mesmerizing cerulean eye.

Satoshi giggled, reaching out to touch his father's face. "Daddy slow. Satoshi fly fast!"

Feigning offense, Satoru gasped dramatically. "Slow? Me? Never!" He scooped Satoshi into his arms, lifting him high above his head. "Whoosh! Look at you, soaring higher than the clouds!"

The room filled with the harmonious sound of your son's laughter, a symphony that made your heart swell with love. Watching the two most important people in your life share such pure joy was a sight you cherished every day.

As Satoru brought Satoshi back down, cradling him close, he pressed a gentle kiss to your temple. "Morning, beautiful."

You leaned into his touch, your fingers brushing against his. "Morning, Satoru."

Satoshi wriggled between you two, his eyes darting between his parents. "Family hug!"

Without hesitation, the three of you embraced, a tangle of limbs and love. In that moment, the world outside ceased to exist, and all that mattered was the warmth shared within these four walls.

Pulling back slightly, Satoru ruffled Satoshi's hair. "How about we make some breakfast? Pancakes sound good?"

Satoshi's eyes lit up like stars. "With strawberries!"

You laughed softly, sliding out of bed. "Strawberries it is. Let's get started."

As the three of you made your way to the kitchen, hand in hand, you couldn't help but feel a profound sense of gratitude. Life with Satoru and Satoshi was a beautiful adventure, one filled with love, laughter, and countless cherished moments.

-------

The kitchen buzzed with activity as the three of you embarked on your breakfast mission. Satoshi stood on his little step stool, his tiny hands eagerly reaching for the mixing bowl.

"Careful, buddy," Satoru cautioned with a grin, handing him a wooden spoon. "Stir gently, okay?"

Satoshi nodded, his tongue poking out in concentration as he mixed the batter. You watched with amusement, preparing the strawberries at the counter.

"You're doing great, Satoshi," you encouraged, slicing the berries into perfect halves.

Satoru sidled up beside you, his arm brushing against yours. "Need any help over here?"

You glanced at him, a playful glint in your eye. "Think you can handle the strawberries without eating them all?"

He feigned shock, placing a hand over his heart. "Me? Sneak strawberries? Never!"

As if on cue, Satoshi's giggle filled the room. "Daddy always eats them!"

You laughed, nudging Satoru with your elbow. "Busted."

Satoru leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a whisper meant only for you. "Can't help it when you're around; everything tastes sweeter."

A blush warmed your cheeks at his flirtatious tone. Even after years together, Satoru had a way of making your heart race with just a few words.

Before you could respond, Satoshi held up the spoon, batter dripping onto the counter. "All mixed!"

"Great job, sweetheart," you said, stepping over to ruffle his hair. "Let's pour it onto the griddle."

With Satoru's help, Satoshi carefully ladled the batter onto the hot surface, forming imperfect yet endearing circles. The sweet aroma of cooking pancakes soon filled the air, mingling with the scent of fresh strawberries.

As you set the table, Satoru leaned over, his lips brushing against your ear. "You know," he murmured, "watching you like this, being such an amazing mom... it's incredibly sexy."

Your breath hitched, and you shot him a warning look, glancing at Satoshi to ensure he hadn't heard. "Satoru," you whispered, "not in front of Satoshi."

He chuckled softly, his hand grazing the small of your back. "Can't help it. You're irresistible."

Before the moment could escalate, Satoshi called out, "Pancakes ready!"

Saved by your adorable son, you thought, smiling as you joined them at the table. The three of you dug into the fluffy pancakes, the room filled with contentment and love.

As you watched Satoshi smear syrup across his face in his enthusiastic eating, you felt Satoru's foot brush against yours under the table. Meeting his gaze, you saw the promise of later moments in his eyes, a silent understanding passing between you.

For now, you were a family enjoying breakfast. But the day held many more moments, some sweet, some intense, all shared with the man you loved and the child who was the embodiment of that love.

--------

After breakfast, the day unfolded with a series of delightful activities. Satoshi, ever the bundle of energy, insisted on a game of hide and seek. The apartment echoed with his giggles as he darted behind curtains and under tables, his attempts at concealment endearingly obvious.

"Where could Satoshi be?" Satoru mused aloud, his hand theatrically placed on his chin as he pretended to search the living room.

You played along, peeking behind the couch. "Hmm, he's such a good hider!"

A muffled giggle emerged from behind the curtains, the fabric trembling with Satoshi's barely contained excitement.

Satoru tiptoed closer, winking at you before pulling the curtain aside with a flourish. "Gotcha!"

Satoshi squealed in delight, launching himself into his father's arms. "Daddy found me!"

Lifting him high, Satoru spun him around, both of them laughing. "You're getting too good at this game, buddy."

As the afternoon sun cast golden hues across the room, the three of you settled on the floor with a collection of Satoshi's favorite toys. Building blocks became towering castles, and stuffed animals embarked on grand adventures orchestrated by your imaginative son.

At one point, as Satoshi narrated an elaborate tale involving a brave panda and a mischievous fox, you leaned back against the couch, watching the animated expressions on his face. Satoru sat beside you, his shoulder brushing against yours, a comfortable silence enveloping you both as you reveled in the simple joy of the moment.

"He's got quite the imagination," Satoru remarked softly, his eyes never leaving Satoshi.

You nodded, a smile tugging at your lips. "Takes after his father."

Satoru turned to you, a playful glint in his eye. "Oh? And here I thought he got his storytelling skills from his beautiful mother."

A blush warmed your cheeks at the compliment. Even after years together, Satoru had a way of making your heart flutter with just a few words.

Before you could respond, Satoshi crawled into your lap, holding up two stuffed animals. "Mommy, Daddy, let's play together!"

Sharing a knowing look, you and Satoru joined in, letting your son lead the way. The room filled with laughter and the occasional roar of a pretend dragon, the hours slipping by unnoticed.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm glow through the windows, you couldn't help but feel a profound sense of contentment. These simple moments, shared with the two people you loved most, were the ones you cherished deeply.

---------

The day had been filled with joy and laughter, and as evening settled in, a calm serenity enveloped the household. After a delightful dinner, Satoshi's energy began to wane, his earlier exuberance giving way to sleepy yawns.

"Looks like someone's ready for bed," you observed, brushing a stray lock of hair from Satoshi's forehead.

He rubbed his eyes, nodding drowsily. "Story time?"

"Of course, buddy," Satoru replied, scooping him up effortlessly. "Let's get you cleaned up first."

Bath time was a cherished routine, filled with bubbles, giggles, and the occasional splash war. Satoshi sat amidst the frothy water, his toys floating around him as he recounted his favorite parts of the day.

"And then the dragon said, 'Roar! I'm the king of the castle!'" he exclaimed, waving a rubber dragon in the air.

You laughed, rinsing the suds from his hair. "That was quite the adventure we had."

Once Satoshi was clean and wrapped snugly in his favorite towel, adorned with little panda ears, you led him to his room. The walls were painted a soft blue, decorated with stars and planets that glowed gently in the dim light.

Satoru settled into the rocking chair, Satoshi cradled in his arms, while you selected a book from the shelf. "How about 'The Brave Little Fox' tonight?"

Satoshi nodded, his eyes already drooping. As you read aloud, your voice soft and soothing, Satoru rocked gently, humming a lullaby under his breath.

By the time you reached the end of the story, Satoshi was fast asleep, his tiny hand clutching his father's shirt. You leaned over, pressing a tender kiss to his forehead. "Sweet dreams, my love."

Satoru carefully laid him in his crib, tucking the blankets around him. He stood there for a moment, watching the gentle rise and fall of Satoshi's chest, a look of pure adoration on his face.

You slipped your hand into his, giving it a gentle squeeze. "He's perfect."

Satoru turned to you, his eyes reflecting the soft glow of the nightlight. "Just like his mother."

Hand in hand, you left the room, leaving the door slightly ajar. The house was quiet now, the day's activities having lulled it into a peaceful slumber.

As you entered your bedroom, Satoru pulled you into his arms, his touch sending a familiar warmth through you. "Alone at last," he murmured, his lips brushing against your ear.

A shiver ran down your spine, anticipation building. "What did you have in mind?"

He leaned back, his gaze intense yet filled with love. "I think it's time I showed you just how much I appreciate everything you do."

Before you could respond, his lips captured yours in a searing kiss, igniting a fire that had been smoldering all day.

-----

The moon cast a silvery glow through the bedroom window, illuminating the space where you and Satoru lay entwined. The intensity of your earlier passion had given way to a comfortable silence, the only sounds being the soft rustle of sheets and the distant hum of the city night.

Satoru's fingers traced lazy patterns along your arm, his touch sending gentle shivers across your skin. "You know," he began, his voice a low murmur, "moments like these make me realize how lucky I am."

You tilted your head to look at him, your eyes meeting his in the dim light. "Oh? And why's that?"

A soft smile played on his lips. "Because I have everything I could ever want right here. A loving partner, a beautiful son, and a home filled with warmth."

Your heart swelled at his words, emotion tightening your throat. "I feel the same way, Satoru. You've given me a life I never dared to dream of."

He leaned in, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead. "I promise to cherish this, to cherish you, every single day."

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, and you nestled closer to him, finding solace in his embrace. "And I promise to do the same."

The two of you lay there, wrapped in each other's arms, the world outside fading into insignificance. In that quiet, intimate moment, you both understood that no matter what challenges lay ahead, together, you could face anything.

As sleep began to claim you, Satoru's voice whispered one last sentiment into the night. "I love you."

With a contented sigh, you replied, "I love you too."

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