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megalony · 22 hours ago

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Forgive And Forget

This is a new Buddie x reader imagine I had an idea for and I think it turned out rather well.

Please let me know what you think and if you would like a follow up.

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Buddie Masterlist

Summary: When Eddie learns Maddie is having another baby, it leads to an argument within his relationship. Because when Maddie left after having Jee, it was (Y/n) Eddie and Buck who cared for her daughter in the aftermath.

Enjoy.

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A discontented groan left Eddie's lips when the sound of his alarm rung out through the air, jostling him from his dream.

It was early. He felt like he had gone to bed five minutes ago, but if his alarm was waking him up then he guessed he had slept longer than usual. Most of Eddie's recent shifts had been early, usually starting at five or six in the morning.

Today's shift was lined up to begin at nine which would feel like turning up in the afternoon compared to normal.

With a grunt, he twisted to the right and flopped onto his back, reaching his arm out to try and turn off his alarm. He had to get up, get Chris and the twins ready and take them all to school on his way to work.

His brows furrowed when he groggily opened his eyes and looked towards the other side of the bed. (Y/n) was awake; more specifically, she was sitting up in bed. He didn't expect her to wake up with him when his alarm went off, not when she didn't have to go into work today and early mornings weren't always her thing.

He reached his hand out and began to glide his hand up and down her thigh while he tried to wake himself up. It took Eddie a moment to clear his head enough to sit up and properly start to wake up and when he did, he looked over to his left. His eyes raked her up and down, taking in the way she was sat to see what she was up to.

She was sat up in bed with the covers strewn across the middle of the bed. One hand was pressing down into the mattress, presumably to help keep her balance and her other hand was pressed against her temple while her head was tilted forward.

"You okay, amor?"

He let go of her thigh to stretch his arms up above his head, straining to click his neck into place before he twisted to the side. His knees gently nudged hers and his hand came up to rest on the side of her neck, his thumb swiping across her jaw until she opened her eyes.

"What's up?" He murmured softly, leaning over to peck her cheek when (Y/n) leaned her cheek into his palm. She nuzzled into his touch, trying her best not to lean on Eddie too much in case she let all of her weight fall onto him and have him hold her weight up for her.

"I feel sick."

For a while now, she hadn't been able to sleep. All she could do was fidget and squirm and groan. She felt sick. She felt like she was starting to burn up, but it just seemed to be her imagination. She hadn't thrown up, she wasn't sweating and she wasn't about to collapse, she just felt horrid. (Y/n) had probably picked up a sickness bug from somewhere.

She twisted to the side so she could lean her cheek on Eddie's shoulder when his hand dropped from her face so he could loop his arm around her waist. His hand splayed out on her hip and he kissed the top of her head while his other hand moved round to brush across her stomach.

"They're still asleep." (Y/n) muttered softly, and she managed a smile as she tilted her head back to look up at Eddie.

She knew what he was doing. Now they were twenty-one weeks along, (Y/n) was staring to feel the baby move and kick and the boys were enamoured. But she liked the way Eddie continued to drag his fingertips along her stomach like he was either waiting for the baby to disagree or like he was soothing them to keep them asleep and content.

It felt a lot better this time around to just be having one baby to concern herself with. It had been a shock to her system four years ago when she got pregnant and ended up with twins for her first pregnancy. Double the kicks, double the discomfort and it meant doubling the check ups she needed and the scans and it increased Eddie and Evan's worries about her and the babies.

At least for this pregnancy, (Y/n) didn't feel weighed down or sick to her stomach every day. She only had one baby wriggling and kicking and messing with her system. It would be a lot easier once the baby was here too, she wouldn't have to do double the nappy changes or two feeds one straight after the other. It would lessen the cleaning and the washing as well with only one baby to contend with.

"Do you want me to get you a drink and some meds?" Eddie peppered a few kisses up and down her neck and shoulder while his hand rubbed soothing circles across her stomach to try and calm her system.

"Please… I may as well get up with you though." (Y/n) found the will to pull away from Eddie's embrace, but not before he tilted her head in his direction to steal a kiss.

She wasn't going to be going back to sleep anytime soon, (Y/n) may as well get up along with Eddie and Chris and help get the twins ready. At least she didn't have to go to work today, it was her day off and Evan would be home soon. She could spend the day with him before they got the kids from school and waited for Eddie's shift to finish later on tonight.

When Eddie climbed up off the bed and held his hands out towards (Y/n), she smiled softly and let him pull her up to her feet. His hands moved down to hold her hips and he attached his lips to the top of her head, waiting patiently for (Y/n) to move first so he knew she was alright.

She could feel Eddie's arm staying secure around her waist as he followed her out their bedroom and down the hall. Once they reached Chris's room, Eddie knocked on the door and nudged it open, muttering a groggy "Time to get up bud." in the process.

He knew Chris had heard him because of the grunt he heard and he knew in five minutes Chris would drag himself out of bed and get dressed.

(Y/n) could feel her head spinning and she was glad Eddie was behind her because her knees started to shake. She still felt sick and her head was throbbing like she was being hit with a hammer. She tried to reach out for the door to the twins bedroom but Eddie's hand enveloped around hers and he attached his lips to the back of her head.

"Go sit down amor. I'll get the girls sorted and find you some painkillers."

If she wasn't well Eddie would rather her sit down and take it easy for a while. He knew Evan would be home soon so he could look after her and make sure she was alright so Eddie could go to work without having to worry.

His hands moved to her shoulders and he kissed the back of her head while he followed her into the living room to make sure she sat down and that she was alright in there.

His lips pursed as he watched (Y/n) flop down on the sofa and curl into the cushion. She brought her knees up until they were pressing into her bump and one arm flopped over the cushion while her other hand started to rub circles around her stomach.

"Won't be long," He mused against her temple before he kissed her cheek, then the tip of her nose and finally her lips when she tilted her head up, chasing after his lips.

Eddie headed into the kitchen to find what he needed before he headed back into the lounge.

He set down a glass of water on the coffee table and some painkillers while he crouched down in front of the sofa. He took the time to reach his hand out and card his fingers through her hair while he perched his chin on his arm that rested on the edge of the sofa.

"You sure you're okay?"

"I feel a bit better."

"Hm, well Buck will be home in a bit so make sure if you need anything, you tell him. And I'm sure he said Maddie and Chim are gonna come by later."

Both men knew what (Y/n) could be like. They knew she would rather hide things from them and suffer in silence than ask them for help or admit when she didn't feel her best and needed taking care of.

All three of them were much the same in that respect. Eddie was used to being the one people relied on, the one who looked after everyone else. So the first time he got properly sick after getting into a relationship with Evan and (Y/n), he hadn't wanted them to take care of him. And Evan was used to looking after people, all his relationships had been one-sided so being loved and cared for wasn't normal for him either.

They were all learning to change those dynamics and accept love and help from each other.

***

"Where is everyone?" Eddie peered his head round the dining room door before he continued and headed into the kitchen.

He had come home and found the house eerily quiet. No one in the living room with a movie blaring out or books and games scattered on the carpet. No one doing arts or crafts in the dining room. No noise coming from the hallway to signal that the kids were in their rooms, and there was no one dancing about in the kitchen with the radio on.

So far, the only family member Eddie had found was his boyfriend who seemed to be in the middle of tidying up the kitchen.

A grin broke out on Evan's face when he turned around to see that Eddie had come home. He swung the tea towel over his shoulder and walked over towards Eddie. One hand cupped the side of his face so he could reel him in for a sweet kiss.

"In bed." Evan whispered each word against Eddie's lips while his thumb brushed across his jaw like he was smoothing out the stubble beginning to grow.

"What, all of them?" Eddie's head tilted to the right before he turned back when Evan stole another kiss while he had the chance.

It wasn't even tea time yet. Why was everyone in bed?

"Yep," Evan popped the 'p' while he finally broke away from Eddie and leaned his left hip against the kitchen island. "(Y/n) went for a lie down, Chris followed her to watch tv in bed with her. And when the girls finished baking they went for a power nap, although I'm pretty sure all of them are watching a Disney movie now."

Once Maddie and Chimney had come and gone, (Y/n) had retired to watch tv in bed. She still didn't feel great, she was coming down with a cold and she looked run down.

When she went to bed, Chris sheepishly asked if he could watch tv with her because he was tired from school and wanted to relax.

The twins had a bit of energy after nursery so they had baked some cupcakes with Evan, but the pair of them had become easily tired after that. Rather than putting them in their room, Evan settled them with (Y/n) because he knew they would sleep for longer with her and they would settle for a movie once they woke up.

He was sure he could hear the theme song from Toy Story blaring down the hallway every now and then while he decided to clean up before tea.

A quiet "Oh," left Eddie's lips and he nodded while he leaned his hand on the counter and watched Evan clean the flour from the worktops.

"Did Maddie and Chim stop by after all?"

"Yeah, with good news." The grin that lit up Evan's face made Eddie smile quizzically and he tilted his head to one side, eager to know what he had missed.

Eddie knew Evan didn't like it when one of them was working when friends or family came round. He didn't like any of them missing out on 'family moments' as he called them and Eddie understood. He didn't particularly like it either, but he had to work today. He had just been glad that he only had a short eight hour shift as opposed to the usual twelve or sometimes twenty-four hour shifts they pulled at the station.

"What news is that?" Eddie swiped the tea towel from Evan's shoulder and moved over to the sink so he could dry the dishes while he waited to be told what he had missed.

If it was some family drama, Evan would have said he had missed 'the gossip' because as much as Evan hated arguments, he loved getting the gossip. And Maddie was a reliable source. She gave them information on just about anybody and she told them a lot of the things she heard down at dispatch.

"Maddie's pregnant, they're having a baby too."

Evan had been ecstatic when Maddie told him and (Y/n) earlier this afternoon while the kids had all been at school.

Maddie had been pregnant with Jee just as (Y/n) had been about to give birth to the twins. And now (Y/n) was halfway through this pregnancy, Maddie was having another baby. Their timing seemed to be almost level, Maddie and Chimney were just a few months behind them again just like last time.

Evan loved the fact that their kids would be close in age. The twins got along great with Jee, she was like another sibling to them and their next kids would hopefully be close too.

There was a nine year gap between Evan and Maddie which had set them a little out of balance. It made Maddie become Evan's substitute parent rather than his sister, especially because she had helped to raise him. Evan didn't want any of his kids having that relationship. He wanted them to bond like other siblings and be close, he didn't want them to have to raise each other like him and Maddie.

When he didn't hear a response, Evan glanced over his shoulder, but Eddie had his back to him. Eddie was piling up the plates ready to load them back into the cupboard.

The little hum Eddie let out and the nod of his head wasn't very encouraging and it wiped the smile off Evan's face completely.

This was good news. This was an extension of their family, this was their close friends expanding their family and showing how happy they were together. Why wasn't Eddie delighted and smiling and wanting to celebrate this moment?

"We'll have two more babies in the family," Evan moved his left hand in a circular motion like he was trying to coax a response out of Eddie who finally turned to face him. But the way Eddie lifted his chin and gave a very placid smile didn't make Evan feel any better. He was practically shrugging off this news like he had said Maddie got a promotion rather than getting pregnant.

"That's good." Eddie cleared his throat and put the plates away before he started on the cutlery.

With a sigh, Evan dropped his shoulders and leaned one hand on the counter while his other hand moved to his hip. He leaned to the right, cocking his left hip out while he looked over a this boyfriend with a somewhat deflated expression.

Evan liked to celebrate news and he liked it when both his partners were as enthusiastic as him about good news like this or things he was excited about. And usually, he didn't have to worry about either Eddie or (Y/n) not reacting. They were always so understanding and bright and eager with him. Not barely coherent like this.

"What's wrong, aren't you happy for them?" He couldn't quite keep the hurt out of his voice, but he was glad when Eddie instantly shot him a look and fired back.

"Of course I am."

"You don't look it, Eddie. What's that face for?" He could read Eddie like a book. He knew that little shrug and the way his lips would form that thin line meant he wasn't so thrilled. He also knew that Eddie would curl his upper lip and bite his lower lip when he was trying not to say something he shouldn't or when he didn't agree with something.

Eddie shook his head and started to drop the knives and forks into the right places in the drawer, but he tried to keep his body facing Evan. He didn't want to fully turn his back on Evan and have his boyfriend think he was angry or trying to start a fight because he wasn't. Eddie really didn't want to start anything today.

"Nothing, it's great, okay."

"Eddie. I know something's gotten to you so just talk to me, please."

A deep breath stuttered past Eddie's lips when Evan's fingers delicately curled around his wrist and he tugged him away from the sink to capture his full attention. He watched the way Evan leaned closer and pecked his cheek while he pressed up against him so their chests were glued together and Evan was towering that little bit taller than him.

He wanted Eddie to open up. He didn't want him to bottle up his feelings and feel like he couldn't talk to Evan about anything. This was about family, Evan wasn't just going to turn around and ignore it when something was clearly bugging his partner.

"Is she going to be able to cope with another baby? If she suffers with postpartum depression again, will Maddie let any of us help? That's what's on my mind Buck, that's what's worrying me."

Each word was calculated and careful because Eddie didn't want to word it the wrong way and sound like a cruel bastard or like he was trying to have a go at Maddie or her integrity, that wasn't his intention. But he couldn't help but be worried about this.

Eddie had been there last time. He had been there for the aftermath. He had seen how broken Chimney was and how worried Evan had been about where his sister had gone because she didn't tell them. They had no idea whether she was okay or safe or not until she rang Evan once, weeks later.

And it was Eddie, (Y/n) and Evan who were left to look after Jee while Chimney juggled going to work and trying to find Maddie and bring her home. They were the ones who took Jee into their home for months and brought her up like they had triplets instead of twins. She became a foster child to them.

Tension rose in Evan's chest as apprehension flooded his veins and made his breathing become laboured.

He didn't want this conversation. He didn't want Eddie thinking like this. It wasn't right; they didn't need to be talking like this when it wasn't set in stone that Maddie might suffer with that condition a second time.

"She might not suffer with that again and if she does, we'll all be here for her-"

"That's not what I'm asking. I'm asking if she will let us, Buck. She had everyone around her last time and she left-"

"Hey, she had every reason to leave. She wasn't well Eddie and you know it."

Eddie hated the way Evan tilted his head at that angle and how his chest tensed and bubbled up like he was transforming into a different figure right before Eddie's eyes.

"Whatever."

Eddie clenched his hands into fists and turned his back on his boyfriend before he said something he shouldn't. If they were going to talk about this then Eddie wanted to talk, not argue. And he hated it when Evan cut him off and wouldn't let him finish. He got so defensive that he didn't even let Eddie explain, he stopped him because he didn't want to hear what Eddie had to say. But that wasn't how this worked.

He tried to carry on drying the pots but his hands were starting to shake too much so he tossed the tea towel and tried to leave the kitchen. It didn't work very well when Evan sidestepped into his path and stood in front of him like a boulder that wouldn't be moved.

"No, no it's not whatever. She's my sister, she's my family so if you have a problem with her, you tell me right now." The dark tone in Evan's voice made Eddie want to scream. He only liked that voice when Evan used it in the bedroom.

Getting snarky with Eddie right now wasn't going to do him any favours because Eddie was going to get just as riled up and upset as Evan.

But if Eddie had a problem with Maddie or this situation, Evan wanted to hear it and he wanted to air this problem out now. She was his big sister, she was like a mum to Evan and she was part of his world. Evan hated any of his family not getting along or being at odds with each other and it hurt worse to know his boyfriend had a problem with the person who raised him.

He watched the way Eddie took a step back and debated walking the other way around the kitchen to get out of the room, but he seemed to scrap that idea pretty quickly.

His shoulders rose up and his hands clenched into fists at his sides while his chin lifted almost defiantly so he could look up at Evan and square up to him so they were level.

"Alright. I get she's your sister, I know you love her, me and (Y/n) love her like a sister too. But you can't admit that Maddie was in the wrong with how she dealt with her depression. You and Chimney won't accept the possibility that her actions were unjustified and she hurt us all. If they want another baby that's great, really, but I'm not picking up the slack a second time, I'm telling you now."

The way Eddie pointed his finger right at Evan's chest near his collar bone made Evan's eyes go wild. Those deep blue iris's were swallowed up by dark pupils that expanded to the max. And Evan's lips pressed into a very thick pout as the veins in his neck started to throb and press up against his skin.

He did not just point a finger at him. He did not just make a jibe at Evan and his sister like that.

"Excuse me?" The guttural sound of Evan's voice almost made Eddie's knees go weak, if it weren't for the desperate need within him to get Evan to listen to him. For once.

Where Maddie was concerned, Evan wore blinkers. He saw only what he needed and wanted to see and if anyone tried to say one alternative word about her, Evan shut them down immediately. But he couldn't do that to Eddie or even to (Y/n). He couldn't shut his partners down, he had to hear them out and Evan was the one who demanded to have this conversation. He couldn't back out now when this was his choice, his demand.

"Buck, she could have told Chim or us that she needed a break, she could have told us she needed to go. We would of helped her, we would of come up with a plan or something, but no, she walked out on her own."

Everyone knew Chimney would have made her stay, he would have coaxed Maddie into staying in LA and maybe that would have worked. Maybe she could have gotten help here and stayed with everyone. But if she had been so adamant about leaving, she could have come to them. Evan would of helped her sort things out and prepare to leave to look after herself.

Eddie and (Y/n) would of supported her and made sure to help her and get her settled somewhere else. They would of found her a place to get help. She didn't have to run off without telling anyone and she didn't have to cut all contact with them and frighten them like she did.

Eddie could understand Maddie wasn't in the right frame of mind. But she had thought enough to make a video to explain to Chimney. She had been coherent enough to drop Jee off with (Y/n) and pack her things when no one was around and planned a place to go.

"She was sick! She was suicidal Eddie, she was frightened of hurting her baby and she knew she had to leave to look after herself. What if it had been (Y/n) in that position?"

Evan dreaded to think what would happen if (Y/n) had gotten into such a state of depression after having the twins that she felt like that. He would break if (Y/n) had been suicidal and tried to take her life the same as Maddie. And Evan would lose his heart if (Y/n) had left. He wasn't sure he would of helped (Y/n) leave if she needed to, but with Maddie it was different.

She had to go. She was so used to looking after herself and Evan, she was used to doing things by herself and taking care of things on her own. Asking for help wasn't what Maddie was used to, she was the one giving help, not receiving.

"No, we're not doing the what ifs." Eddie shook his head and pointed his hand again before he clasped both hands behind his head.

He deadlocked his fingers together at the back of his head and stuck his elbows out at the sides as he tried to take a deep breath. And when Evan moved closer, Eddie stepped back. He knew exactly how this conversation was going to go, but he didn't care. It needed to be said.

"Maddie came to our home, dumped Jee with (Y/n) and then left. Without explanation. Without a sorry or a word at all. We would of helped her, Chim might have stopped her but we wouldn't. (Y/n) was sick too! We had eight-month old twins and a sick girlfriend and Maddie left her kid with us. And you forgave her straight away. Maybe you can forgive and forget Buck, but I can't."

It hurt.

It hurt Eddie so much that Maddie had been forgiven. It took Eddie a long time to get that sibling-relationship back with Maddie because whenever he looked at her or Jee, he felt betrayal. He felt angry. He wanted to tell her how wrong she had been and how selfish she was for doing what she did, but Eddie could never do that.

He could never hurt Maddie like that because he cared too much, and he would never say those things to her directly and cause Evan that pain either. Because Evan would stick up for her and he too would feel betrayed. So Eddie kept it all bottled up.

"Eddie, she needed help. And if history repeated itself today, I'd understand her reasons again and again. She wasn't in her right mind and she did the right thing by leaving Jee with us rather than telling Chim and having him convince her to stay. There's three of us in this relationship, three people to help look after Jee-"

"She's not our responsibility! (Y/n) was struggling but she looked after Jee every fucking day. That little girl practically lived with us for five months. She cried when Maddie came back and she went back home with her and Chim. When she came to stay with us we ended up with triplets and you know it."

Eddie backed up into the counter and leaned his hands behind him to grip the edge and balance himself.

Jee had been with them for months. While Chimney tried to work, (Y/n) had Jee and the newborn practically moved in with them. Then when Chimney went in search of Maddie, Jee stayed with them again.

By the time the couple came home, Jee was already settled into a routine and a safe home with her uncles and her aunt. She didn't want to go home. She thought this was her home. When she came to stay with them, it felt like they had gone from twins to triplets with Chris and three little girls to look after, all similar in age. The twins were only a few months older than Jee.

Eddie still remembered how Jee cried when she left. That little toddler, reaching out for (Y/n) and screaming when she was taken away in the car.

He remembered that pain, and he remembered exactly how it broke (Y/n)'s heart. She had become attached to her niece. She had loved and cared for her every day for almost half a year, and then Jee was suddenly torn from her arms and taken back to her true home.

There was no way they were doing that again. Eddie wouldn't put his family through that heartache of looking after another baby and probably Jee too if Maddie started to become ill.

If she was sick or had depression or anything went wrong this time, it would be down to Chimney to sort it. Not Eddie's family.

"That's not fair." Evan's broken voice made tears well up in Eddie's eyes and he couldn't look at his boyfriend any longer without bursting into tears.

Both Evan's hands wavered at his sides as he dithered on whether to grab his hips or wave his hands in front of him or point the finger at Eddie like he had done a moment ago.

It wasn't fair to justify things like that. Evan would rather their niece come and stay with them than risk his sister struggling and taking her own life. And he would rather have Jee safe and settled with them than on the road with Chimney while he tried to find Maddie and bring her back home.

No part of this situation had been easy or straight forward, but it couldn't all be blamed on Maddie.

"What would you rather her do? She tried to kill herself Eddie."

The tears running down Evan's face made Eddie shake and he tipped his own head back and smothered his mouth with his hand so he didn't start to do the same.

"I- I would rather her tell us how she felt and let us get her help than leave the mess at our door like that."

Surely, Maddie could see that telling them what she was doing and asking for help would have been a far better choice. No one would have shamed her for how she felt. She had seen Evan through all his meltdowns and breakdowns growing up. She had witnessed (Y/n) in a few bad states. She had seen the aftermath of Eddie's breakdown and how he coped through that.

Did she think they would judge her? Did she think they wouldn't mind being given their niece out of the blue and left to wonder if she was dead or alive?

Moving both hands to his face, Eddie ran them up and down to try and stimulate his nerves and clear the tears from his eyes. He tried to calm himself down and gather some sense of composure so he could carry on this conversation that was heading south very quickly.

"Buck, we have three kids and another on the way. I can't come home to find (Y/n) on the verge of passing out with a bundle of kids to look after. Okay? I don't want Maddie to get caught up and afraid and drop another child on us because she realised a second too late that she can't cope."

When Maddie had her breakdown and left Jee with them, (Y/n) hadn't been well. She had a virus and was just getting over sepsis. She could barely take care of Chris and the twins. She had been extremely sick that day and when Eddie came home, he found (Y/n) in a bad state and his niece and all her things suddenly dumped in the living room.

They were having another baby themselves. What would happen if (Y/n) was home with all four kids and suddenly she had to take care of Jee and another newborn? They couldn't handle six kids in the house.

They couldn't take on Jee and another baby as responsibility if Maddie started to suffer again. Eddie needed to know that if Maddie needed help or she was suffering, that she would tell them and get help instead of running away from her family and responsibilities again.

"And I think my sister deserves the benefit of the doubt. How cruel would it be to start pretending that she can't cope or asking every five minutes if she's okay? We can't treat her like that, and she knows if she needs help she can tell us. She will."

Evan wouldn't do that. He wouldn't become one of those people.

He would not patronise his sister by constantly checking in to see if she was okay. He wouldn't hound her and ask if she was coping, if she was starting to feel under pressure or feel sick. Evan wasn't willing to become a hovering family member who was waiting, teethering on the edge expecting Maddie to fail.

If they all expected her to have a breakdown or suffer then it could push her into that state and that wasn't fair. No one deserved to be treated like that.

Maddie deserved to be treated just like she had been when she had Jee. Like any other, normal pregnant woman and then when she had the new baby, no one needed to wrap her in cotton wool. She needed to be treated the same way (Y/n) would be treated. With love and respect.

Eddie pushed off the counter and took a few daring steps closer to his boyfriend, now that they both seemed to have simmered down somewhat.

But before Eddie could say anything else, both their heads turned when they head footsteps.

For a moment, Eddie's heart jumped into his throat at the thought of it being Chris coming in. He knew Chris hated if any of them argued, it set him off into a meltdown. And if the girls heard they would start panicking or run over and cling to one of their parents to make them stop arguing.

But both men felt relieved when they realised it was (Y/n).

She was rubbing her hand across her temple in a way that indicated she still had a headache and didn't feel well. She could barely keep her eyes open and the grimace on her face told both her boys that she was coming down with some sort of illness.

She wandered into the kitchen barefoot which sent shivers running throughout her system when she stepped onto the cold tiled floor.

The bedroom felt as warm as the oven compared to the rest of the house and (Y/n) suddenly felt cold wearing only one of the boys lounge shirts and a pair of sleep shorts.

Her attire made both of them blank for a few moments as they forgot what they had been trying to say- and arguing about- when they focused on their girlfriend and what she was wearing. But (Y/n)'s confused frown and the way she inclined her head to one side brought them back to the moment.

"Why can I hear raised voices? What's going on?" (Y/n) folded both her arms on top of her bump and leaned her hips back against the kitchen island so she was facing both of them.

The way she rose a brow and kept her lips in a thin line told them she wasn't happy they were arguing about something. Especially when they hadn't told her before now that something was wrong and why they were in a mood with each other. Not to mention that Chris and the girls could hear them arguing, they couldn't make out what was being said but they knew the tone of their dad's voices and knew both of them weren't happy.

"Well?"

Eddie sighed and tipped his head forward before he looked back across at (Y/n). His hands fell to his hips and one knee jutted forward as he tried to think how to explain.

"Buck told me about Maddie. I'm as concerned for her as I am happy."

"Really?" Evan deadpanned with narrowed eyes and his arms folded over his chest in the same manner as (Y/n). He hated the way Eddie side-eyed him and grutned.

"Buck for God's sake I don't want to argue. I'm not saying they shouldn't have a kid, they're great parents I'm not judging. I just want Maddie to… to be prepared, I guess."

The way Eddie looked across at (Y/n) made her sink her teeth down into her lower lip and coil her arms tighter around her waist. She knew he was looking for validation and for her to agree with him and she didn't want to put herself in the middle of the boys when they were arguing. She didn't want to take sides or make this worse.

This was a tricky situation and a very hard thing to have a conversation about. Clearly both of them had been taking things the wrong way which had led to an argument.

"Don't tell me you think the same as Eddie, please. You saw how worried Maddie was to tell us today. She deserves a family and she deserves respect from us. We can't act like she's broken or worry all the time that she's gonna get ill again."

Evan reached his hand out and gripped (Y/n)'s arm as he moved to stand beside her. He couldn't take standing at odds with both of them and when (Y/n) didn't pull away from him, he looped his arm around her waist instead and leaned into her side.

"I know, if I was in her place I would hate to have people tread like that around me." Understanding flooded (Y/n)'s voice as she tilted her head back to look up at Evan.

She could see how horrid that would be for Maddie if people started to treat her like a broken doll or as if she were a ticking time bomb, set to go off at any moment. And if people expected her to fail or to run away a second time, it would make her feel like a failure before she'd even started and that wasn't fair or respectful towards her.

"I didn't want to cause a row, but I'm worried, okay?" Eddie moved his hands to his sides and dropped his shoulders.

He didn't want to row anymore, he just wanted to diffuse the situation and sit down with their family and see the kids. He didn't come home begging for a fight and he didn't expect to have an argument with Evan, he was sorry if he had started this.

"Can we all just be happy for them? It won't be the same as with Jee, it won't." The determination in Evan's voice was pleading yet loving at the same time and Eddie nodded.

But when Eddie looked across at (Y/n) to see why she wasn't saying anything, his heart picked up speed.

"Hey, hey, why the tears mi amor?"

Eddie moved to stand in front of (Y/n) and gently cupped her face in his hands and tilted her head back so she was looking up at him. His thumbs swiped across her cheekbones, collecting her tears to try and clean them away.

He could feel her trembling even as Evan shifted to let her back lean into his chest so he could curl his hands around her hips and press his lips to the back of her head.

Both men shared a look as the same worry popped into their mind. (Y/n) hadn't been feeling well today, was she suddenly feeling worse? Was there something wrong with the baby? But Evan couldn't feel her trembling and she wasn't creasing over with pains or saying she felt sick or she was in agony. So it couldn't really be the sickness she felt that was making her cry.

"I can't- if Maddie needs help again, I can't do what we did before, Evan. I can't raise Jee or another baby for months and then… then hand them over once Maddie's better. You don't know how much that hurt."

(Y/n) moved her hands to cup Eddie's wrists and she tried to look up behind her to look at Evan.

She understood. She knew where he was coming from and she wasn't going to hover around Maddie or make her feel incompetent. But if Maddie struggled again, (Y/n) agreed with Eddie, she had to let them help or find some proper help. (Y/n) couldn't take in Jee or a new baby and care for them the way they did last time.

"Baby, it hurt us too when she left-"

"You know when Maddie asked if we wanted Jee for the weekend, and I kept saying no?" Her breaths shuddered and she leaned her cheek into Eddie's hand to try and rid the few tears she was still shedding.

Both of them nodded and shared a look. They knew what she was talking about. When Jee was a toddler, after being back home for a while, Maddie asked if they wanted Jee over for a sleepover, to see Chris and the twins. (Y/n) didn't exactly explain to the boys while she kept saying no. They knew she wasn't telling the whole truth when she said she was busy or not feeling up to having another kid running round the house since they already had three.

Most of the time, the twins ended up going over to Maddie and Jee for a sleep over. It took a while until (Y/n) finally agreed and Jee started staying over with them every now and then, and Eddie and Evan never probed why. They suspected that maybe having Chris and two toddlers was hard enough without looking after Jee too.

"I said no, because Jee started to call me mummy, and- and I couldn't tell Maddie that. I couldn't hurt her like that. We raised her, and that confused her when she had to go home. I can't do that again."

Tears streaked down (Y/n)'s face and she started to tremble when she felt how tense Evan was behind her and how his hands tightened around her hips so much he was starting to bruise her skin. And when she looked up at Eddie, she saw the devastation in his eyes.

She tilted her head back when she felt Evan move. He didn't let go of her or move very far, but he tilted his head back like he was staring up at the ceiling and (Y/n) saw the tears trickling down his face as he tried not to burst into tears.

She hadn't told them that before.

(Y/n) couldn't tell them. She knew if she told Eddie, he would get angry. He would be furious that poor Jee had become so attached to living with them that she thought she was one of their kids. He had never argued Jee living with them, Eddie always agreed she needed a stable home and they could care for her, but it had clearly been for too long and at such a vital time in her life.

If they cared for her now, while she was three, she would have more comprehension. She would know she was staying with her aunt and uncles. But being so young and impressionable when she stayed with them made her confused.

And (Y/n) knew if she told Evan he would break down. He loved Jee almost like she was one of their girls and he felt he had to look after and protect her while Maddie had been unwell and Chimney was desperately trying to help her and bring her home.

"Oh baby," Eddie continued to brush his thumbs across (Y/n)'s face while he leaned closer until he could press his wet lips to her temple.

That made sense, now. Both men could see why (Y/n) denied Jee stopping over. She wanted Jee to have more stability and she didn't want to risk breaking her own heart if Jee accidentally called her 'mum' again.

And how could (Y/n) tell Maddie that? How could she explain that she couldn't care for her niece too often because she started to believe (Y/n) was her mum? That would completely crush Maddie's heart and it could have sent her into a relapse of depression or into another breakdown.

It would have complicated things between them all and (Y/n) couldn't risk doing that.

"That won't happen again. I won't let things get that bad, I swear, I swear to both of you that it won't be like that."

Evan let go of (Y/n)'s hip so he could stretch his arm out and grip Eddie's bicep and reel him in closer. He kissed the back of (Y/n)'s head again and again before leaning over to peck Eddie's temple. He tried to hold them both as close as he could until (Y/n) was safely encased between them and he had both of them in his arms.

He wouldn't let anything like that happen again. He would try and make sure Maddie opened up to them if she needed to. He would keep an eye on her. If she needed help, Evan would make sure she got help, they all would.

And Evan wouldn't let the same situation happen again. They wouldn't have to take Jee and or a new baby into their home and care for them. They wouldn't get caught up in something like that again.

Maddie and Chimney would have their baby, and Evan, (Y/n) and Eddie would have theirs.

#imagine #911 imagine #evan buckley #eddie diaz x reader #evan buckley x reader #pregnant! reader #evan buckley imagine #buck x reader #buck imagine #eddie diaz imagine #eddie x reader #eddie diaz family #eddie diaz #buddie x reader #buck x eddie

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knavesflames · 2 days ago

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heyyy el

requesting politely reader ... tending to ... arlecchino with her mouth and going from starting timid to taking a bit more control to arles surprise

lots of care and love just like in the one you just posted :3

mhm ty

Hi anon<33 I hope you are doing well and having a nice night (it’s night for me). I liked this idea >:) sorry lol it took me a while to come up with a concept but I hope this suffices 😁😁😁 (hi guys the dirty words are slowly making a reappearance)

Word count: 2.2k

Contents: soft dom!reader (kind of yes), bottom Arlecchino, cunnilingus (funny word), fingering at the end, orgasm denial (ONCE GUYS OKAY ONCE), also praise (guys I’m cooked)

Songs I listened to (for fun): fantastic- king princess (is this one obvious or not), disease- lady gaga, shhh!- viviz, pivot- HEYOON, boyfriend- dove Cameron, impurities- le sserafim

There’s more but I forgot

Nsft utc<3

Arlecchino is not a receiver. She gives and takes nothing, it’s how she’s always liked it, whatever the reason may be. She has not explained, and you doubt she will. Arlecchino is very secretive, you’ve come to learn. She divulges what she must, and keeps the rest hidden. Even you, who seems to know more about her than anyone ever has, is kept in the dark about a lot of things– what exactly triggers her nightmares? What truly happened with that ‘Mother’ of hers? There are rumours, of course. Arlecchino is mad and cursed, she killed her Mother ruthlessly without reason, she killed her best friend for nothing other than a simple quarrel. You know them to be false, now you know her better, but what you can’t seem to understand is why she lets the lies fester, why allows herself to be portrayed as a cruel monster. She can’t seem to answer you.

Arlecchino also refuses to tell you why she pushes herself so hard, or why she has such strict rules for herself. You beg her to take that damn suit off constantly (for.. Multiple reasons, both you and her know that well enough– she only obliges when it ends in you as a quivering mess on the bed). “What happened to regular clothing? I know you dislike dresses, but you don’t have to force your body into that silly suit all the time.” is a phrase often uttered. Silence is the only answer given.

Silence seems to be an answer you get from her often. In different contexts, of course. Sometimes, she is silent when she is comfortable, when she is thinking, when she is angry.. You realised long ago that she is a woman of few words– and even fewer sounds. During the rare occasions you get to make her feel good (whether that’s simultaneous to your own pleasure, or before), the only sounds you really hear are the soft breaths and the slight grunts whenever you do something she particularly likes. You have made it your mission to coax more sounds out of her, even if it’s the last thing you do. You experiment with different things each time you get to make her feel good, anything remotely sexual she’s done to you, you try with her. Degradation doesn’t work, her only response is a cock of her eyebrow and a scoff. Praise is a little bit better, earning a soft kiss on whatever part of your skin she can reach. Tying her up is out of the question– she has made it abundantly clear multiple times she only enjoys the act of bondage, however small, when you are on the receiving end. It’s the case for a lot of things, and it almost irritates you. Almost. it turns out the answer is something much simpler than anything you’ve ever tried, and you mentally curse yourself for taking so long to figure it out (for Arlecchino, that was the point. She likes the game, even if she truly is trying to keep her weakness hidden).

The answer was something she had done to you almost every time you had engaged in some form of intimate act with her. There aren’t many acts more intimate than your partner giving up the ability to speak because their tongue seems to be.. Busy. You just hadn’t realised that Arlecchino would ever be on the receiving end. So, after much pleading (and begging to the point it almost seems you’re begging her to fuck you instead of the other way around), she seemed to relent. Barely.

“Let me try,” comes the soft whisper from your lips, hitting the side of her neck as you gently place kisses there. There’s no reaction, but you could swear you felt a shiver. Moving away from the milky, unmarred skin of her neck (one of the only places that isn’t marked with either her curse or an array of scars), you almost expertly push the blazer off her shoulders before slowly sinking to your knees. The carpet is fuzzy, but it doesn’t do much to soften the hard wood underneath. You can’t find yourself caring. The blazer lands on the back of the desk chair. Excited, desperate fingers tug at the buttons of those godforsaken trousers until they finally do what you want them to do. You’ve done what you can, you can’t push her hips up so you can continue to take them off, she’s stronger than you’ll ever be (you like that). “Don’t you think it would feel nice? You know it feels nice. Do you not think you deserve it?”

“I do not deserve the pleasure you give me,” she murmurs, a rare show of her inner thoughts. The woman criticises herself too much, you think. You wish she wouldn’t be so strict with herself.

“Irrelevant,” She shivers at the slight sternness of your voice. It mirrors her own. “Do you want it?”

Arlecchino doesn’t respond for a while. Her hand moves to your head, and she caresses your hair, gently stroking and tugging at the strands before she eventually speaks, a whisper, a subconscious attempt to hide the fact she’s about to chase something she never allows herself to. “Put a pillow under your knees, at least.”

You grin, so pleased with yourself. You stand again, only to sprint and find a pillow. It happens to be the pillow you sleep on, it doesn’t matter. You return to your position only to find her trousers messily on the ground, and the top four buttons of her dress shirt undone. The look in her eyes is one you’ve rarely seen– want. “Beg.” you whisper, the grin still on your face. Arlecchino’s own face twists into a frown.

“I will die before I beg for anything.” Her tone is resolute, and you sit there nonetheless, unmoving apart from the finger tracing up and down her toned thigh. You both stay like that for an agonising two minutes before she barely mumbles. “Please.”

You are incredibly aware that you won’t get more than that, so, even though you know it doesn’t do much, you mutter “good girl”. It does do something, though. You barely hear it, but her breath shakes. You take it as an initiative to start, so you let your lips find her thigh, planting wet, open mouthed kisses up towards her inner thigh. You continue, and– she’s soaked already. You’ve done exactly nothing and she’s as wetter than you’ve ever seen her. Your eyes move up to hers, a raise of your eyebrow as you open your mouth to speak, but she cuts you off before you can speak.

“Do not. I am aware of the.. situation.”

“But you’re all wet and it’s all for my tongue. Isn’t that sweet?” You’ve never been this cocky at all, and Arlecchino would be a liar if she said she didn’t like it. She tries to find words, something to refute the claim, but her words are ripped from her lips when she feels your own lips graze her clit. It’s a tiny movement, really, but one she isn’t entirely used to. The only reaction she makes, however, is a slightly sharper exhale. Until your eyes stare straight into hers and you do it again, though for longer. Then again, though this time your tongue presses flat against it. Your tongue doesn’t move, much to Arlecchino’s dismay. The hand that rested in your hair gently tugs.

“Continue.” She speaks breathily, and her words shake. You can practically hear her gulp as she tries (and fails) to calm herself, and you know she’s probably telling herself to show no emotion. Though, when you finally start moving your tongue in slow, languid motions, you hear her shaky sigh and feel her hand in your hair tighten even more. You try to find a rhythm that affects her the most, alternating between soft licks and harder presses— you find that swirling your tongue around her clit, occasionally moving down to dip your tongue into her aching cunt. Your eyes dart up to her every few seconds to catch her mouth falling open and her head tilting back. When her mouth isn’t open, she’s stifling any noise she could possibly make, gritting her teeth so hard you’re almost certain they’re going to crack. The next time you tear your eyes away from her skin and move them to her face, her eyes are squeezed shut, and only then does a quiet groan escape her.

Something seems to change in your mind, because your hands move to grip her thighs, holding them apart despite them trembling. She’s sensitive, after all, it isn’t often she gets taken care of, is it? The blackened hand not pulling greedily at the strands on your head moves in an attempt to push your hands away, but your voice vibrates against her (which of course, causes another quiet sound to slip from her). “Keep your hands on the chair.”

Arlecchino’s eyes shoot open, a gasp practically ripping through her lungs. “You cannot expect me t—“

“Do it or I stop. Let me finish making you feel good.” She scolds herself internally for letting you get too comfortable with her own tricks. Either way, it feels good and she doesn’t want you to stop, though she’d rather cut off her own arm than admit it. She doesn’t need to say a word, though, the small groans (and whimpers) tell you everything. Especially when they grow louder, and her chest begins heaving, and her voice breaks with every utterance of your name. It’s the most pleasure she’s ever outwardly expressed.

“Why did you stop?” Her exasperated, breathless voice echoes the room. You stopped just as her orgasm was reaching the peak, causing it to ebb away quickly, a sense of disappointment growing in Arlecchino’s stomach. Her eyes, now piercing into you with that familiar irritated stare, meet yours, your own full of amusement. Wiping your chin (when you’re eating pussy like it’s the last meal you’ll ever eat, it tends to get messy, doesn’t it?), you chuckle and respond in your own teasing lilt.

“You taste so good, and your pussy is so damn pretty, Arlecchino. I don’t particularly want to stop right now. You can take it, can’t you? Keep your hands still.” Her face twists into some odd mix of mortified and aroused, but your tongue meets her clit again, and the only sound she can make is something so uncharacteristic, a whine. You continue exactly what you were doing before, though this time you decide to slide a finger into her— the reaction she gave was definitely a pleasant one, her back arching off of the chair, her hands squeezing the seat of it in an attempt to keep them still. Arlecchino reaches the peak quicker this time, and despite your bossy orders, she finds herself melting into you completely, her hips grinding herself onto your tongue as much as she possibly can. It’s completely different to how she was at the beginning, her plan to remain unbothered and stoic foiled.

“Can I— please don’t stop this time.” When there comes no response from you other than a curl of your finger, she moans your name in a useless attempt to get you to answer her. You’re being mean, she thinks, and you’re using everything she does against her. “Answer me. Tell me I can cum.”

How is she still demanding things from you even in this position? She lost all control a long time ago. You find your eyes opening though, and while adding a second finger, your voice softens and you speak, voice full of affection. “Be good and cum for me, then. Now, before I change my mind. Let yourself feel good, yeah?”

Arlecchino doesn’t need to be told twice, because her hips lose whatever rhythm they had when your tongue presses flat against her, letting her choose the pace and the rhythm she knows will get her there quickest (it doesn’t take long, the woman is so sexually pent up it’s laughable). Within a minute, she’s crying out, her hands flying up to her face to cover the obscene expression she knows is there. You pay no attention, only watching every movement with a sense of satisfaction and a smile in your eyes. You keep your finger curling and your tongue still until her body stops rocking, and her hands leave her face. When her face, the one you find so beautiful, emerges from behind her hands, mascara slightly smudged, you can’t help but snicker as you pull out and away from her.

“Better?” You ask, wiping your chin once more with the back of your hand. You somehow look so smug and the look on your face pisses Arlecchino off, just a little. How you’re so calm and collected and she’s a fucked out mess sat in her desk chair.

“Yes,” she says, her voice sharper than she intends it to be really, but she continues in the same tone. “I do hope you don’t think we’re finished, hm?” Your head tilts in slight confusion, but the smile remains on your face. After a while, Arlecchino’s own lips twitch upwards, barely noticeable, but you notice nonetheless. “How could I leave you without feeling good, too? Go to the bedroom, please.”

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gem-de-lune · 10 hours ago

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Daily Vibe Check 11/26

To lighten the daily read load but still ensure I get to everyone, i will be reading on 1 Riize member daily, and Seunfhan every other day or just if something with him shifts significantly. I will do Riize collective reads every other day that I'm not doing a Seunghan Read. So today it is Seunghan + Sohee and then an SM read i found in my asks. Tmw it will be Riize collective + Any other member + something relevant to current topics or asks. Hope that makes sense.

Seunghan

Knight of Chalices + King of Wands + 6 of Wands

Honestly bro is just chilling right now...lowkey this is his card when he is at his most neutral/leaning positive state. Very charming very vibey. He seems to be cheeky lately. He is doing well. I asked about how he felt about Rolling Loud in Thailand, and he responded with the King right there. He's feeling very very high up about the ordeal. Rather than being the King, he sees Briize as the King, and him gathering his graces and motivation to push gorwards simply by watching. There are a lot of fond and just overall respectful and "in awe" emotions attached here. To the point where he may wonder if it is overbearing for others (cough OT6 cough) leading me to believe he may have seen their distainful reactions. Nonetheless it wasn't enough to erase his positive feelings on the matter. He really feels like he should bow down in gratitude lmfao.

When I had asked if he had contacted members recently i got the 6 of Wands, which is a yes signally a positive and celebratory? Chat. Therefore, it is probably around or on Taro's birthday they spoke.

One thing of note that I and maybe many have noticed is that Taro seems the most standoffish out of all the members regarding this entire situation from the start. This is true-ish deep down. I pulled another card to clarify the 6 of wands, which made everything I already knew click into place for me- but I accidentally reshuffled it in my deck and I do not remember exactly what card it was- but I know it fully cleared this up for me so I will share the explaination I came to here:

Taro doesn't really know how to deal with negative situations. At all. He acts as if they do not exist unless he must face them. He is not good with them. He will spiral out of control and doesn't know how to work through those things properly, so he believes the most mature thing is to not engage to begin with. Therefore, it was very awkward for him to try and contact Seunghan directly. He does not know what to say. He has been avoiding it even if he also believes he was wronged and is still OT7. He is the most awkward member about this. I do believe that Seunghan mayhaps reached out during his birthday, and this relationship is starting to mend again. Wanted to share bc this makes me sad and happy.

Sohee

The World + 6 of Chalices + 2 of Pentacles

Sohee is generally feeling really good, maybe like something has been completed to an extent sucessfully. I think, tbh that he is glad to be home lmfao, but he really enjoyed the adventure. That sort of feeling. Since people were asking, I decided to ask if he had really smiled and nodded at the Riize is 7 banners at Rolling Loud, to which I pulled 6 of Chalices. This is a yes, it made him think of some other memories- so since that is the case I really think he may be referring to Madrid, which is funny bc Briize were saying he was grinning just like he did back then!

I then asked him how he thought things were progressing for Seunghan's return, to which I got 2 of Pentacles. Things are still being prepared and there's not a clear answer at the moment. This question led me into the next few things we will discuss regarding SM.

Knight of Pentacles + 8 of Swords + Knight of Wands + Queen of Wands

Generally, there is a lot of turmoil here. Careful planning and preparation, but its almost like one team is like "let's do this now, this is stupid and we need to act now" and the other is like "why do we have to do that? I don't wanna". One side wants to do as they have always done, and the other side is younger and more open-minded, wanting to avoid disaster due to refusal to adapt. The older side sees this as reckless, the younger side sees the older as lazy and slow. It is very tough, and they are at odds. I will come back to this energy a bit later.

8 of Wands + 2 of Chalices + 10 of Wands

Someone asked if SM was making a decision regarding Seunghan this week. Pulled 8 of Wands and 2 of Chalices. Yes?? I think they 100% have the intention to do so. But with the 10 of wands as the outcome I think that whatever outcome it is it will be while before it is released, and whatever it is will be due to a lot of pressure being put on SM. So I advise that OT7 really make sure to keep laying it on as thick as possible as this will affect the outcome.

Bottom of Deck:

8 of Chalices + 5 of Wands

The theme here is still a lot of conflict. One side will need to grow mature enough to give up their stance. Whoever gives in first wins.

Final Notes:

Mainly, what I wanna speak on is the energy SM is feeling right now. I made a transit reading when Pluto went into Aquarius that discussed what tf is going on with SM lately and what will be going on for the next few years. I will link it HERE (for twt users, i will link in the twt)

Other than that, again, keep spreading the truth and laying on the pressure here. We are approaching a kind of finale situation rather soon. Or at least some news regarding such. Note that even if we win, we may not KNOW right away. We may not know 100% until closer to a CB. I hope not, but it's certainly possible. So please keep doing what you're doing, and do not give in!!

#astrology #kpop #tarot #riize is 7 #riize #riize is seven #smsupportsbullying #seunghan #anton #eunseok #sungchan #shotaro #sohee #wonbin

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the-au-thor · 11 hours ago

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A Complete Guide to Delivering Bad News | Spencer Reid Blurb

"You're scared. I'm scared. But we'll figure it out—together."

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Warning: click here!

You crossed the door softly, your steps as silent as a ghost. Even the usual clack of your heels didn’t echo through the living room like it normally would when you had something to say. But this time, you weren’t sure how to feel about it. That sharp, gnawing sensation of uncertainty weighed on you, as though the longer you delayed walking to the study, where Spencer was probably sitting and reading, the more time you have to solve that Rubik’s Cube. Yet, when you turned down the hallway and reached the study’s threshold, you realized it was less like a cube and more like a Penrose staircase.

Frozen in place, you stood just inside the doorway, clutching the straps of your bag tightly, already regretting your choice of heels. You watched him from the shadows in that gentle, looming silence—like some kind of deadly warning: break the stillness, and face the consequences. It was as if Spencer were a mythical beast, an ogre, perhaps, who would be angered by any interruption of his reading. But you knew better. He’d finish the book soon enough, lifting his gaze once it was done.

When Spencer read for pleasure, he took his time, savoring every page. But when it was for work or research, he read ravenously—devouring words, lines, and paragraphs like a starving predator. He absorbed them completely, committing every critical detail to memory. Not a single line was ever lost on him.

It only took him a few long seconds to finish his book before he closed it with an almost annoyed snap. He seemed frustrated—maybe the mystery remained unsolved, and that was bound to irritate him. Running a hand through his soft, slightly unkempt hair that was overdue for a cut, he finally lifted his eyes. His chocolate gaze settled on you, and you could see the surprise flicker across his face.

His hand rose to his mouth, his fist partially covering it—a thoughtful gesture you’d come to recognize as religiously Spencer. Behind his reading glasses, which he’d started wearing again after a mandatory work eye exam, his brow furrowed slightly, as if he saw something in you that he couldn’t quite name.

“Hey,” he greeted you simply. “Didn’t think you’d come by today.”

That was just how he was. Spencer didn’t bother with formalities or obligatory social niceties. No “hello” or “how are you.” He always went straight to the point.

For a moment, you forgot how to speak. Looking down at the tips of your stilettos, you let out a soft, almost inaudible sigh.

“Yeah,” you murmured, “I was nearby and thought I’d stop by to say hi. But you’re working on a case, so… obviously, it’s a bad time. I’ll just come back when we agreed.”

You faltered, retreating into your own nervousness.

You didn’t believe in irrational fears. Every fear had a source—either a clear, imminent danger or a subtle, buried trigger. Natural fears, like the instinct to flee from a hungry predator, were different from conditioned ones, like the rising panic in a crowded room with stifling air. Whether natural or induced, you couldn’t yet tell which kind of fear this was.

“Hey, no.” Spencer stood, crossing the room to you in just two strides. His hand gently wrapped around your arm, holding you in place as you glanced down at his touch. “You always do this—you show up, say something half-formed, and then you leave. You don’t have to come over just because it’s a day we planned. You know you can come by anytime, right?”

Your brow furrowed slightly as you shook your head.

“There are planned days because you work,” you replied. “And I respect your work too much to get in the way.”

A soft smile tugged at his lips. Slowly, he leaned closer to you, his movements deliberate, testing, teasing. You knew what he was doing—he loved the control, the way he could make you feel completely his without even touching you.

It didn’t take much for you to melt into him. With Spencer, you felt like water—your boundaries dissolving, your willpower slipping. When he kissed you, it was as though every principle, belief, and argument you had vanished. You became something fragile yet intensely alive, caught in the paradox of being both deconstructed and reconstructed by him.

When his lips finally met yours, you surrendered, feeling his breath warm against your skin. Your eyes fell closed, not entirely sure why. Perhaps it was a way to shield yourself from the overwhelming rush of it all, or maybe it was your body’s instinctive attempt to hold onto the feeling, locking it inside where it couldn’t escape.

But then something snapped—you realized it was you, shifting closer to him, pulling him to you as your hands clung desperately to his frame. The fear coursing through you drove you into his arms, like this might be the last time you’d let yourself do this.

Spencer didn’t seem to mind. His hands moved from your cheeks to the small of your back, gentle yet unyielding, like he was afraid of breaking you but couldn’t resist the pull to touch you.

He always touched you. When you ate together, your feet would inevitably find each other beneath the table, a playful connection. On rare, rainy afternoons spent watching TV instead of him reading aloud to you, your legs would tangle in an unspoken agreement of intimacy. Even in the quietest moments, when you rested beside him, he would absentmindedly brush his fingers along your shoulder or twirl a strand of your hair around his finger, completely unaware of how tethered he kept you.

As his hands returned to your cheeks, you knew the kiss was ending. He pulled back, pressing a series of soft, lingering kisses to your lips before stopping altogether. His smile brushed your forehead as he rested his lips there, lingering for a moment before taking your hand.

“What do you want to do?” he asked, his tone light. “I was working on some research for an old case that’s been reopened. The FBI wants every department to solve at least one old case. But I could use a break—you have great timing.” His eyes sparkled with intensity as he lifted your entwined hands to his lips, kissing your fingers. “How about Chinese takeout?”

Your stomach churned at the suggestion, bile rising at the back of your throat. Normally, you’d say yes, but today, the thought of eating anything made you shake your head. You stopped him halfway down the hall, unable to speak as a tight knot formed in your throat. The words were there, tangled, trapped, unable to escape.

"I need to tell you something."

You couldn’t look him in the eye, so you focused on the undone buttons of his blue plaid shirt. He wore a gray vest over it, with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. Normally, you’d call it formal, but on him, it was quintessential. Spencer Reid simply wouldn’t be Spencer without his signature style.

"Hey," he whispered, dropping his smile and replacing it with a worried expression, as if your single sentence had triggered his defenses "What is it? What’s wrong?"

You lifted your gaze, realizing your eyes were clouded with unshed tears, ones you didn’t want to let fall but knew would eventually betray you. You hated being the cliché of the girl who cries before saying something important, but there you were. You also hated how you couldn’t rein in your emotions.

You’d tried convincing yourself to see him as just another man you had to interview. That didn’t work. Then you told yourself: He’s older than yoy; he can only ever be your friend. And finally, you can’t love him. And yet, here you were, in love with him, tears threatening to spill over because of him.

"I’m so sorry," you said, pulling your hand free from his.

You wanted to hold on, to cling to him like your lungs clung to air. But touching him only made it harder. Touching him hurt. Looking at him hurt. Loving him hurt.

When you looked at him again, his expression was pained. Spencer couldn’t help it. His job sometimes required him to mask his emotions, and though he had the ability to do it at will, he never did so with you. He allowed himself to be vulnerable around you, and that made you feel even worse. You wanted to give him the same, but your defensive nature always got in the way, tugging at you like two ends of a rope being pulled in opposite directions.

"Why are you apologizing? Seriously, love, you’re scaring me"

Spencer covered his mouth with his hand, studying you thoughtfully. He was trying not to analyze you—you could tell. He always made an effort because he knew how much you hated being read. He had told you before that he preferred hearing things directly from you when you were ready, instead of taking what was yours to give.

You, on the other hand, nervously tucked your hair back and glanced around again, as if the vase, the mirror, or the coffee table might lend you courage. But if courage came, it would have to come from within.

"I know," you stammered. "And I’m sorry for that too. Normally, I’m good with words, you know that, but..."

"Hey," he said again, softly, stepping closer and gently cradling your face to make you look at him. When his kind brown eyes met yours, part of you calmed, finding solace somewhere between the dark freckle in his iris and his pupil. You closed your eyes to shut him out. You didn’t need solace; you needed the dizzying unease to summon the courage.

"You know you can tell me anything," he paused, giving you space to speak, but you didn’t. "Love?" he called again, but you couldn’t answer. Not if the first thing you’d see upon opening your eyes would be him. "Is it really that bad?"

That’s when the first sob escaped you. It wasn’t intentional, but it was the release of all the panic bottled up over the past two weeks and three hours. Two weeks of sleepless nights, subpar work performance, and the subsequent three hours of pure anguish and tension. Nothing about this was okay.

"If I tell you, you’ll hate me," you said, muffled against the fabric of his vest as he embraced you.

Spencer’s hands traced soothing circles on your back and nape, but he tensed at your words. You’d expected that. You were being so ambiguous he could’ve easily imagined you were about to tell him you had mere months to live. You couldn’t help it. That flickering fear ticked away like the seconds on a time bomb, and your tears continued to flow, defying your determination to hold them back.

"I could never hate you," he said with the certainty of someone stating that grass is green and water, when liquid, is wet. "The only way to deliver bad news is to just say it."

"I can’t do it."

"Then pretend you’re a doctor, and I’m your patient. Follow the protocol," he suggested. You rested your cheek against his shoulder, trying to calm yourself despite the tears that kept falling.

"What’s the protocol?"

"First, the doctor must keep their emotions in check."

You scoffed.

"I already failed at that."

Spencer chuckled.

"Alright, let’s move to step two: practice ahead of time what you’re going to say."

"I did," you nodded, sighing as you tried to breathe normally through your sobs. "But I forgot everything."

"That’s okay. Step three: make sure the environment is pleasant and safe."

You glanced around. Still in the hallway, it was safe but far from pleasant. You stepped back, slowly pulling away from Spencer, and led him to the living room, sitting him on the plush sofa. Instead of taking a seat beside him, as you would’ve preferred, you sat across from him. The space between you felt like a chasm. Spencer looked at you attentively, restraining himself, when it should’ve been you—the one delivering this ethical "protocol"—who was calm.

"What’s next?"

Admittedly, it was more an excuse to stall the inevitable than genuine curiosity, but Spencer had started this game with his suggestion, so you felt he should guide you through it.

"Choose the right moment. Is this really urgent?"

You nodded quickly, wiping your cheeks with the sleeve of your cardigan and trying to stop the tears, even as more threatened to replace the ones you’d just dried.

“I can’t wait until tomorrow.”

“Then the next step is to look the person in the eye and explain everything without overcomplicating it,” Spencer instructed.

Without thinking, you automatically looked at him, your expression contorted in pain as you blinked rapidly to chase away the tears.

“Okay,” you said, your voice breaking into a hushed whisper, but he heard you clearly. “Well… two weeks ago, I had that episode, remember?”

Spencer nodded, his eyebrows lifting in alarm at the memory.

“Yes, but you said it was stress from finals. I insisted you see a doctor. Stress can cause fainting spells, but there’s usually an underlying reason. I would’ve felt much better ruling out anything serious.”

You nodded slowly.

“I went to the doctor this morning.”

Suddenly, Spencer’s expression turned as pale as rice paper. A tremor ran through him, and you could sense it even from where you were sitting.

“It’s not serious… is it?”

His chin quivered with acute panic as he looked away, avoiding your eyes.

One.

Two.

Three.

Four.

Five.

You gave yourself five seconds to muster the courage, then let it out.

“I’m pregnant.”

You could’ve sworn you heard a sharp, ringing sound—like a clap too close to your ear that left you dazed and half-deaf. Then came the dreaded silence. You could hear the ticking of the cuckoo clock hanging on the wall, the streetcars outside, even the construction at the end of the avenue. It all swirled around you, as if every small noise now existed inside the room. Even your heartbeat thundered loudly, like a persistent panic alarm inside your chest.

This was what you had feared the most: his silence. You would’ve preferred if he’d yelled, growled, or outright refused to be a father. But his silence was so calm it became deafening.

Minutes passed, and you started to feel suffocated, restless. You fiddled with your hands, glancing at your pale pink-painted nails. You wondered how long it would take before your fingers swelled so much your rings wouldn’t fit. You also questioned if you could do this alone.

You liked kids, and your job would allow you to spend time with a newborn without risking your career. You’d had great parents, who would undoubtedly make excellent grandparents. Your mom—above all—would probably be the first in line outside your apartment, ready to be your main support system.

But you wouldn’t have Spencer, and the baby wouldn’t have a dad.

Life without Spencer… you’d never considered that as a possibility. And you were the type of person who sat down and analyzed every possible option.

Hot tears burned your eyes again, and you decided this was the end of it. You wouldn’t break down in front of your baby’s father. Taking a deep breath, you swallowed the bitter saltiness of your tears and stood slowly, smoothing your cardigan and your hair.

When you finally looked at Spencer, you were startled to see his face filled with distress, still seated in the same position. His eyes were brimming with tears, and he barely seemed aware that you’d moved.

His gaze rose to meet yours, and he finally spoke.

“Do you promise?” he asked in a whisper.

Under different circumstances, you might’ve made a sarcastic comment, but you didn’t have the energy to joke. Instead, you nodded silently.

“I just found out this morning. Honestly, I didn’t even suspect. If it hadn’t been for the fainting and nausea, I wouldn’t have gone to the doctor. My cycle was even normal last month.”

“Yeah, that can happen sometimes. It’s called implantation bleeding. It occurs when the fertilized egg moves into the uterus,” he said, shrugging, “in simple terms, of course. But sometimes… it could be something else. Did the doctor say anything more?”

Your hand rested on your stomach, as it had done instinctively since you’d learned the news. You couldn’t feel any difference, but you knew something tiny was growing inside you.

“They said everything’s perfect, but I have to go back in a few weeks for my first ultrasound.”

Spencer nodded, and for a moment, you wanted to shake him, to force out the words you needed to hear. But you decided to give him the time he needed to process the news.

He frowned, looking confused.

“Why were you scared?”

That word unlocked the fear you’d been holding back, and the heat of fresh tears returned to your eyes.

“Because it wasn’t in the plan,” you mumbled, feeling your nose start to tingle, your chin trembling again. “God…” You wiped your tears with the back of your hand and shook your head. “We don’t even have a plan.”

Spencer stood from the couch and pulled you gently toward him, cradling the back of your neck in his hand as he kissed your forehead tenderly.

“I know I said I was being careful, and I was, I swear,” you sobbed, finally letting your fear and sadness pour out. “But I don’t know what happened. The gynecologist said it could’ve been something like a certain food. Even with the most careful use, the pills only have a…”

“98% effectiveness. I know,” Spencer interrupted, stepping back just enough to wipe your face and study you carefully.

You felt like a mess. The tears had left you congested, but none of that seemed to faze him.

“I think I was more prepared for you to explode about it than to act all understanding and loving.”

He raised his eyebrows in surprise.

“I’m always understanding and loving.”

You bumped your forehead lightly against his shoulder, embarrassed by your outburst.

“I know. But you once said you were afraid of having kids. You said it was because of your mom…”

“I know what I said,” he murmured, pressing a gentle kiss to your cheek. His warm breath brushed your skin like a caress. “But I didn’t really mean it. I’ve always wanted kids.”

“Really? But what about me? I’m not even sure I’m the woman you’d want to have a family with. I’m so younger than you, and I know that bothers you, even if you don’t say it. Then there’s your job. And I’m not… you know, cool or a badass. I don’t hunt serial killers for a living.”

Spencer laughed—a deep, genuine laugh that made you step back with a frown.

Here you were, spilling your insecurities, and he was laughing in response.

"That’s never mattered to me," he said, shaking his head. Honestly, it’s a relief you don’t “hunt serial killers for a living.” I’d spend my life worried sick about you."

You frowned harder, scrunching your eyebrows together so much it almost hurt.

"Like I do for you all the time."

Spencer nodded, a soft smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

"You’re amazing. The kindest, most caring, thoughtful, and intelligent woman I’ve ever met. “Cool” is honestly the simplest word I could use to start describing you."

He took your hands in his, his eyes dropping to them as he smiled faintly, shaking his head in thought.

"Sometimes, I’m scared that one day you’ll realize you could do better than someone as damaged as me and leave."

You gently pulled your hands free from his and stepped closer, cupping his face in your palms. Your fingers traced the small creases at the corners of his eyes and the ever-present shadows beneath them. You tried to think of something you’d change about him, but nothing came to mind. You shook your head firmly.

"If I wanted to be with someone else, I would be. I’d never play games with your feelings, and you know that," you said with a smile. "I don’t care about your traumas. Do you care about mine?"

He shook his head, his typical shy smile appearing as he pressed his lips into a thin line.

"The only reason I ever think about our age difference is because I worry that one day I won’t be able to walk as fast as you."

This time, you were the one to laugh.

"Then I’ll walk slower."

You knew people who had larger age gaps in their relationships. The only reason it ever came up between the two of you was because a few others had noticed. Sixteen years wasn’t that much, and even if it were, it had never really mattered to you. You were 28, and Spencer was 44—a fact that might have concerned others, but for the two of you, it was just a number.

Spencer ran his hand along your arm, his fingers stopping to rest on the hand you still had on his cheek. He smiled softly.

"I can’t imagine a better woman to start a family with than you. And I know the undefined nature of our relationship must’ve worried you."

"What are we going to do?" you asked quietly.

He looked thoughtful for a moment.

"Well, first, I guess we’ll have to start looking for a house with a yard," he said, glancing around the room with a laugh "We’ll tell our friends and our parents."

His expression grew somber at that last part, and you immediately understood why.

"Your mom is going to be an amazing grandmother, whether she knows it or not. The baby will know. And we’ll be there to help her remember. I know that."

He nodded, his eyes glistening with emotion, before his smile returned.

"I’m sorry I was so scared. I must’ve scared you too."

He sighed and chuckled, sitting back down on the couch. But instead of letting you stay standing, he pulled you down with him, wrapping you in his arms and encouraging you to lean against him.

"I thought the doctor had found something strange or serious," he admitted.

You laughed softly.

"I didn’t know how to tell you. We’ve never talked about relationships or kids—except that one time you mentioned schizophrenia and I panicked."

"Next time you have a pregnancy scare, I want to be involved. I don’t want you going through that alone."

You frowned, looking up at him in mild surprise.

"I’m barely two months pregnant, and you’re already thinking about another one? You’re insane."

He groaned in mock protest.

"An only child? I was an only child, and I was constantly bored."

"And I’m the middle child with three siblings on either side. Let me tell you—sometimes it’s better to play alone"

"Four," he countered with a grin.

"Two," you replied, negotiating with a smile.

Spencer’s eyes sparkled with amusement.

"Three, and that’s my final offer."

#spencer reid x reader #older!spencer reid #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x female reader #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid blurb

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additiva · 3 days ago

Note

ace charles?! been dying for some ace fics ngl

Yes!

Here's a snippet, for the consideration of the (proximal) masses. It's unedited (be nice to me).

“Hey, Max.” Charles wonders aloud, tilting his phone for Max to see. “What one do you like more?”

He flicks between two hoodies on the screen – a pale blue, and a black, both with Nahmias splashed gaudily across the front. Max squints at the screen. It probably doesn’t matter which he says; Charles will almost certainly get both.

“I like the blue one.”

Charles hums, letting his head flop back against the pillows, looking down at the screen of his phone propped on his bare chest. Max snorts quietly, amused. From this angle, he has about nineteen chins.

“Maybe, I will take both.”

Max bites back a smile, and turns his focus back to what he’d been doing before – what he’s been doing for the past forty minutes. He lifts one of Charles’ knees back over his shoulder, feeling his heel settle against the middle of his back. He lets his fingers trail up, wrapping over to stroke firmly over the crease of his hip. When Charles finishes shuffling -- still tapping absently at his phone – Max settles in to lick at him again. Not at his clitoris – Charles doesn’t like that – but around it.

The hoodies, Max knows, will be here in a few days, in one of two ways.

Either they’ll come to Max’s address, the box adorned with the fake name and contact details Charles has used to order them; or Doni Nahmias will figure out somehow that it’s him, in which case the clothes will be deposited at Charles’ doorstop, and the money back into his account. After that, Charles will wear them to Max’s apartment, take them off, and forget them on the couch, or in the kitchen, or in the bedroom, or on the terrace. Max will fold them, and put them in the drawer with the rest of his forgotten belongings, until Charles accuses him of stealing them, and takes them home again.

It'll have to happen soon, he muses, thumbing gently over warm, wet skin. The drawer is getting full.

Charles sighs heavily and lets his phone fall, hands collapsing against his chest, apparently content with his procurements. When Max glances up, he’s gazing thoughtfully at the ceiling. His expression doesn’t change as Max’s fingers wander, except that his eyes fall closed. His foot slides up to plant itself on Max’s back, knee lifted a little higher – thigh close enough for Max’s head to lean against, hips tilted for better access.

Max, watching his face, folds his fingers – with two knuckles, he glides firmly over the dip between folds. Charles shudders a little, twitching. Some days he likes this; others it’s too much. Today’s a good day. Max can tell by the way his scent has been clear and fresh all morning. It has a certain crispness to it – one that can easily turn sharp with apprehension or sour with warning.

Max does it again, pressing more firmly with his knuckles – there’s no friction, the delicate skin already thoroughly soaked. Not with slick. Charles’ body rarely produces slick. It’s happened maybe once or twice in the entire time they’ve been doing this – months. Not even enough to make him wet; just barely enough for Max to catch a scent in the air, and a trace on his tongue. He’s not even sure what it was that did it – they haven’t been able to replicate it, to Charles’ great disappointment.

Max doesn’t mind.

Yes, maybe those slight traces tasted better than the champagne he drank on his first ever podium. Maybe it shone on his fingers like gold – gleaming brighter than the WDC trophy.

But in some ways it seems right, that he only got to have it for a moment. He works himself half to death just to hold that trophy for ten minutes each year – none of his replicas at home can quite compare.

He thinks he might’ve worked harder still, with Charles. He thinks they both have.

In any case, for Max, it’s probably the smaller moments in between that make it worthwhile. It’s each step closer to the perfect setup on a new race-weekend. It’s every purple sector, and podium. It’s the way the mechanics make space for him among them; the way Christian smiles up at him with pride on the top step; the way GP’s daughter lights up when she sees him.

With Charles, it’s the way his knees flop languidly open when Max nudges at them; the way his hands find Max’s skin without thinking; the way his scent stays warm and open through it all.

It’s like that now: soft and calm and inviting. It’d probably even stay that way if Max were to slide a finger or two inside him, to stroke at the velvety heat of him and massage at the tightness of the muscles there.

But Max won’t, because as he’s contemplating it, a timer goes off.

So instead, he slowly pulls away, going to the bathroom to wash his hands.

Then he goes back to the bed, and flops down next to Charles, casually tangling their legs as he digs his own phone out of his pocket.

“Alright, so.” He flicks open a spreadsheet. “What went well?”

-----

Idk guys are we vibing it or no? Lemme know.

#the agnostic-athiest intersection #but make it sexuality #and abo #and chussy #sorry #dont look directly at me please #acefic

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almondmilkcleanser · 2 days ago

Text

𝐒𝐮𝐛𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐮𝐚𝐥 𝐀𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭 — 05

SYNOPSIS - curiousity has played its role well with you - leaving you in between pleasure's whirlwind with the Phantomhive's most cunning, most skilled butler. How will you handle this arrangement?

■ ` ♡ characters / fandom ; f!reader x sebastian michaelis - kuroshitsuji + in a binding agreement

■ ` ♡ tw ; MINORS DNI

main menu | one-shots menu | chapter one | masterlist

■ ` ♡ VIP GUESTS TO THE MEAL ↷@preciousamethyst @crow-like-shiny-things @chrollohearttags @muvaginger @justaproudslytherpuff @kookie-vuitton @starstarbinks @flxxrence @urbunniebaby @nocturessa @neko-michaelis @maidensblessing @aiyaaayei

■ ` ♡ A/N → YKTV! Plagiarism not allowed. Please excuse any spelling/grammar mistakes

You admired your figure from all angles in your new attire. A fitted dress shirt, ruffled at the collar, and, what appeared to the naked eye, a particular black skirt. But Nina had something up her sleeve. She always did. She crafted the inner hem of your skirt to slit up your thigh in any event you needed to flee. In the cufflinks of your blouse carried holsters for small weapons just in case of emergency or urgency she repeated over and over.

The inner layer of your blouse was double stitched, secure enough to shield your delicate bits from even the nastiest of exposures. But none of that held your attention.

“The fabric feels so rich! So soft and-” you inhaled the hem of your collar, sighing in deep admiration. Sebastian, nonchalantly sifting through a newspaper, looked up at you, smirked, and continued to look down. “Is that vanilla! No-” snif “Tangerine! Nina I love this! I don’t know how i could ever repay you.”

Nina plopped the excess fabric that weighed her shoulders down on the large Oak table. She plopped a finger on her bottom lip, her mind racing on an option. By how calculative she looked at you, you almost regretted even offering the option to her.

“Ah!” Sebastian clenched the newspaper, his nerves at a jolt. “I’ve got it!” this time, Sebastian narrowed his eyes at NIna as he looked over the newspaper.

“Must you conduct yourself like you’re standing in the center of a coliseum. We’re all right- here.” Nina puffed her cheeks, crossed her arms, and stared darts back at Sebastian. The invisible bolts of lightning became visible as the pair shared equally dissatisfied glances.

“Anywho!” NIna turned up her nose. “I’ll make you a deal. Come to my shop and model for me. I’ll give you the mock outfits every time I’m finished. And in return I’ll have a bunch of designs for the upcoming spring catalogue!” Nina snickered at her marvelous plan, sending Sebastian’s eyes to the back of his head. He neatly folded the newspaper and stood to his feet, clearing his throat signaling that it was time.

“Well, I think that would be enough of that.” he stood to his feet. “The Young Master will decide on those arrangements, until then you should expect his company in the near future.” you could practically see the steam coming out of Nina’s ears.

“Sebastian.” you chimed up. Both Sebastian and NIna glanced at you. “I-” Why so many eyes on me?! “I think it would be a great idea.” you pretended to carry an air of confidence about yourself. Hopefully nobody saw through it like a translucent mirror. “What better way to expand the Phantomhive reach than to show to England that he helped assemble such fine fashion.” You took a step forward and spun around in a circle, giving Sebastian a full view of you from the front, the side, and an even longer glance from behind.

When you turned back to face him, a beaming self-assured smile on your face, you could see his eyes snake from the bottom up. He had to remember that Nina was, with broad apprehension on her face and a mouth full of bitten fingernails, looking on to see his answer. He merely smirked as he walked to the door to hold it open for you.

“If it isn’t so much trouble for Y/N, i’ll see that she comes to visit you twice a month. No more. No less. Now, if you’ll excuse us, Nina.” He extended his hand out the door, and you took not a second too long to nod your head in thanks to Nina and hurry out of the shoppe. You and Sebastian weren’t but a few feet away, but you could hear Nina’s exasperated shouts of glee from inside the shop.

You followed at Sebastian’s side closely, careful not to bump into the other passerbys. So many muted colors of black, grey, brown, and the occasional tweed. It almost bored you to tears seeing the English fashion. On occasion, you would see a lady dawned in a damp violet or, if you’re lucky, baby blue! You scoffed aloud.

“Something troubling you?” Sebastian asked.

“No, its just- seeing everyone out and about performing the mundane and dressing to match is so-”

“English. I know.” he agreed. “But we have to remember that everyone here is at a mentionable status. A figurehead, so to speak. “ He tapped his chin with a hmm. Trying to find the right words without being too boorish in his approach. But truthfully Sebastian grew so bored and so tired of it from time to time as well. Such mundane practices, day in and day out. No end in sight. How atypical the human experience could be in his eyes. And yet individuals could so happily continue on these practices for the sake of appearances every day, and then they die.

How damned is that.

“Its more complicated than what it seems.” you didn’t really buy his response, but at the moment you didn’t care that much.

“Say, Sebastian.” you started up again. “What are we doing in the city anyway?”

“Just walking around.” eh?! “While you and the Young Master were still sleeping, I took it upon myself to venture into town. I delivered a few packages, paid off a few patrons, obtained some documents, petted a few kittens, gathered intel-”

“Wait. We’re not going to scurry past that statement, Sebastian.” you fought down a chuckle. “Did you say you were petting kittens? How does such an elegant butler like yourself find time to pet animals?”

Sebastian fixed his tie, averting his eyes away from you. “You always find time for simple pleasures.” His lips curled into a smile as he imagined you at your most vulnerable. You must have caught wind at his inner musings, for you looked away in a huff, your cheeks warm to touch.

“I’d remember to keep some questions of curiosity to myself.”

“Quite.” he so snidely agreed. You looked up at Sebastian who still beared a faint blush post-confession. You tried to play it off like you were clearing your throat, but even Sebastian could pick up the chortle underneath your hacking.

A few taps at the top of the carriage, and the two of you were on your way back home.

❈❈❈

You sat across from Sebastian, a fresh basket of bread and lilies warming your lap. Your feet were tired from walking all around the city, but for whatever reason you didn’t mind it. Sebastian took it upon himself to guide you around the more elite sectors of the city. Introducing you to the more exclusive airs that England had to offer.

The finest winery, elusive bakeries that had waiting lists to get inside, private dance studios that children of the elite would come and learn the arts. Ballet, poetry, fencing, you name it. With being apart of the Phantomhive manor, one could redeem many perks and coin in many, many favors throughout the years. And today, you finally realized just how much power the Phantomhives held.

When you walked in with Sebastian, people recognized the Phantomhive insignia in an instant. And, like clockwork, people would move out of your way. They would bow their heads. They would proclaim high praises for Sir Vincent. So on and so forth.

Luckily for you two, a bread and sweets bakery along your route just so happened to have fresh batches readily available for the two of you. Sebastian declined for himself, but instead fetched four large loaves of bread for you. You could smell its freshness and feel its warmth on your lap, making your stomach growl out of turn.

“I can’t wait to have this with some tea when we get back.”

“I’m sure the Young Master would love a piece himself.” Sebastian mentioned thoughtfully.

“Would you like some?” he raised his eyebrow at you. “W-while its still hot of course.”

“I’m afraid I would have to decline. But,” he moved from one side of the cart to the other, sitting next to you with both of your knees touching. He moved the basket off your lap and onto his.

“I’d like to feed you some.” You tried to stop the gasp that came out of your mouth, but it was too late. Sebastian faced you head on, his gloved hands breaking off a piece of bread into near-perfect meticulous pieces.

“You’re hungry. And unless you’d like to cause me trouble back at the manor, I’d liike for you not to fall unconscious during the remainder of your shift today.” Shit, do you really have to work more after running such a llong errand?

“I am hungry but- this isn’t necessary, Sebastian. I-” While your mouth was open, he took the opportunity to stuff your cheeks with warm, buttery bread. The soft, fluffy texture melted in your mouth, making you close your eyes to savor each bite. When he saw you were finished, he popped another piece of bread into your mouth, and with eyes still closed, you moaned in satisfaction at the craftsmanship performed on each delicate piece!

This was far different than the, sometimes old, and sometimes soggy, pieces of bread you would accumulate before working for the manor. How you would go days without an adequate meal or, when you did, you would hand it off to someone else that seemed to need it more. Now, here you were, being fed bread by a demon butler that you signed a sexual contract with in a lavish carriage.

Who knew your adult years could take such an aspiringly pivotal turn. Right off a cliff.

“One more.” you requested. Your plushy mouth was already foming a narrowed ‘O’, preparing for the next savory bite. “One more and I think I’ll be satisfied.”

“Is that so?” Sebastian smirked reassuringly. He tapped the top of the carriage 4 times, causing the coachman to slow down to a halt. You just assumed he stopped to check on the luggage sitting behind him. Unknowingly to you, the coachman, under what seemed like a sleepy trance, hopped off the carriage and wandered into the forest. He muttered incoherently to himself, his walk staggering left and right. But he continued to walk until there was only a hushed rustling of bushes, until eventually nothing was heard and nothing was en route to cross your paths.

“Keep your eyes closed.” his dark, silky voiced dropped to a whisper. He fished around in the basket for a new piece as you sat there, eyes playfully closed, anticipating another piece until-

“Mmh!” You felt his cool, soft lips press against yours. He held you by your shoulders, pinning your back against the plush carriage chairs. His knee pushed between your legs, raising your skirt inch by inch until it was bunched around your upper thighs.

You could feel his hunger. His want. His need for you. How taunting it was for you to be in arm’s length all day and he could only watch and wait. He could only imagine what it was like to have you sprawled across your bed, your wanting eyes tracing the outline of his silhouette, body and mind crying out for his touch.

But seeing you, with such an unquenchable thirst building in the back of hsi throat, made him pounce. He pressed his fingers into your blouse, intensifying the kiss moment by moment. Your tongues latched onto eachother, playing a friendly game of tug and war. He broke the kiss, practically growlingin your ear as he kissed the base of your neck.

You threw your head back into a moan. “Sebastian, we’re out in the open.” He swiftly unbuttoned your blouse and unlatched the front of your bra. His eyes never met yours. “Someone could see us, Sebastian.” his long, rugged tongue latched around your erect nipples, pulling and suckling at your sensitive flesh, causing your own moans to escalate. The lust in your body grew at an increasing rate. The warmth of your pussy burning a hole in between your expensive stockings.

“Sebastian-” he stopped your worrying with another kiss. His gloved hands cradling your breasts and circling them around and around. You succumbed, wrapping your arms around his neck to deepen the kiss. He pulled your stockings down to your ankles, adjusting his body so that you were on under him and his body was hovered over yours.

You almost forgot that you were in a carriage how accommodating and flexible Sebastian was.

He freed one of your feet from its nylon prisons and bent your knee to your chest. With his eyes to yours, he popped his middle and ring finger into his mouth with a smile. Coating it with his saliva from base to tip.

“You’re so beautiful when you look at me like that.” Your glistening eyes spoke a silent message to Sebastian. How you switched from being such a strong-willed, determined woman to one of a needy, luscious, and smoldering one turned his head upside down. To see you, staring at him with Bambi eyes as you begged, pleaded for his throbbing cock to fill you up just drove him into an animalistic headspace.

“Sebastian,” you breathed. Your honey-riddled tones so sweet. You felt him split you open, filling you inch by inch. Sebastian groaned aloud at your tightness, his own face breaking out into a light sweat. You shuddered underneath his touch. His large thumb circled around your throbbing clit, pressing down as he entered you back and forth. Back and forth. Back and fucking forth.

“Oh- God! P-please, Sebastian!” on instinct you grabbed his wrist with one hand, your orgasm budding and blooming the more he played with you. He pushed your hand away, pinning it atop your head, his knees opening your legs wider and wider. Your viscous nectar replaced his spittled fingers, creating a sloshed, slicked mixture that coated your inner thighs, ass cheeks and the carriage chairs.

“You’re so warm, and so- so wet. Is this all for me?” In a tease, he pulled his fingers out of you, gleefully popping them in his mouth. He took both fingers, and opened his mouth so you could see him trace them on his tongue. Your sticky essence creating lines across his tongue and atop the roof of his mouth.

He leaned down to kiss you so you two could savory your flavor together. As your tongues interlocked again, he fished his member out of his trousers. The droplets of pre-cum dripped against your inner thigh, mixing with your juices, and slowly sliding down your thigh.

“Dammit-” he breathed. “I’m going to enjoy this. I’m most positively going to enjoy you, as well. He smiled down at you, his demonic fangs protruding out the sides of his mouth. He pushed inside of you, groaning aloud at your warmth. Your wetness. Your everboding grip around his thickness. He had to catch himself. Closing his eyes and clearing his throat to refrain from exploding so soon.

“Sh- Shi- Sebastian, you’re s- so deep. Please don’t tease me anymore~” you could almost feel Sebastian’s body shift. The air in the carriage grew thick, heavy, and taunting. You looked up at him and swallowed as he looked down at you and grinned. He pushed back your other knee to your chest, positioned himself again, and proceeded to move inside of you.

At first, his movements were slow, calculative, and considerate. But then, when he looked down at you, and how snug your pussy clenched onto him, a side of him came further and further to the front. He pressed his hands into your hips, leaving flesh-like indents around your ass. He slammed his hips into you, making you feel every inch of him. He stretched you open, giving you and your pussy limited time to relax and contract. He wanted all of you. Right here, right now.

“Ah! F- fu- fuck, Sebastian! You’re so deep inside of me-e-e~” You could feel your pussy creating new gateways for him to explore. You felt her stretch, contract, bend and mold to his every want and wish. An end not even being a question between you two.

Droplets of your fluid splashed into the air as he continued to pound into you. Your juices coated his dick alll the way to the base of his pelvis, even dripping down onto his balls. He could feel you clenching, pulling him down deeper into the depths of yourself.

“Good heavens, Y- Y/N, why are you so incredibly wet like this?” he pushed deep inside of you, keeping it there as he leaned down to kiss your neck, leaving subtly sized hickies along your neck. “Did you miss me that much? Hmm?” letting go of your knees, he positioned both of his arms along the side of your head, balancing himself on his elbows. He kept his chest pinned down to you and proceeded to stroke again inside of you. He wanted to feel all of you. ever y crevice, every groove, every bend he wanted to claim it as his.

You couldn’t help it anymore. Your voice cried out in perverse pleasure as he rammed in you. Circling his hips back and forth at a momentum that wasn’t of this world. He kept drilling you, begging to go deeper into you, thrashing your love nest, embedding an impression on your body that none other would be able to match. You wrapped your legs around his waist and your arms around his neck.

“G- gonna cum, Sebastian- Go- gonna cuuuuuum-” He responded simply by kissing your dampened cheek.

“By all means, let it out.”

“You’re so beautiful when you cum.”

Damn that Sebastian! You wished he wasn’t so skillful but your body readily thanked him. Your eyes flew open, only to roll to the back of your head. Your body spasmed, a mixture of small to large thrashes overcame your hips.

Your essence coated his dick, sliding down between your ass and staining the plushed seats underneath you.

“I love it when you spill all over me. F-fuck, that’s right. Let it all out, Y/N. It's not good to be so- fuc- pent up like this~”

As you continued your orgasm, thick globs of Sebastian’s cum came oozing out of you, your sticky fluids and his thick essence creating gel-like globs that seemed to seep out at a nonstop pace.

He kissed your lips one more time, catching your breathless quivers, guiding you back down from your peak.

You’re so beautiful when you cum.

❈❈❈

“Do I really have to help Mei-Rin with the cleaning?” you buttoned up your shirt with a whine. Your hair was disheveled. Droplets of sweat were still resting on your cheeks and chin, and your body felt heavy.

“Only for the first hour. We can’t make it obvious what we were doing as soon as we get back.” He balled up the leg of your stockings, crouching down to slide them on your feet and up your thigh. “If I were you, Y/N. I would enjoy that hour of freedom.”

“Oh? Why is that?”

“Because, according to our terms, I’m liable to redeem a full day with you as per our agreement.” Shit.

“B-but, in this carr- you’re not tired?!” Sebastian chuckled to himself.

“On the contrary, Y/N” his eyes flickered a warm auburn from his demonic red.

“I’m just getting warmed up. So.. Make sure you stretch.” he winked at you, knocking on the top of the carriage 4 times again. This time, the coachman shouted at the horse, and they were on the move again.

“Was he there the whole time?!”

“A fairly late response considering the deed is already done, don’t you think?”

to be continued.....

❈❈❈

A/N — plssss leave a comment, like and reblog! It really helpssss

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recurring-polynya · 19 hours ago

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a cool thing about writing bleach fanfic is that i have read certain parts of the canon so many times that i feel like i know it really well and then i'll realize there's something i have absolutely no clue about. today's example: in the wake of Ichigo storming Soul Society, how widespread was the knowledge that Urahara had been assisting him?

Aizen knew, obvs, for Aizen reasons, but some of the stuff he mentions, like Urahara's known base of operations being in West Rukongai-> the involvement of known Urahara associates Shiba Kuukaku and Shihouin Yoruichi and other clues probably had a number of characters such as Yamamoto, Ukitake, Kyouraku, Unohana suspicious. I feel like Soi Fon and Kurotsuchi could easily have put it together as well, but I did not get that vibe from them so either they didn't or they were just too distracted or in Kurotsuchi's case, he probably did put it together and just didn't care (or pretended not to care)

When the captains finally show up in Hueco Mundo, we learn that Urahara had been working with the Gotei for some time so obviously his involvement has been known at some high enough level of security clearance.

Did Byakuya ever officially report the fact that Ichigo Hollowified right in front of him, which may not have meant much to him, but probably would have been a big tip-off to Yams. On one hand, it does not feel very Byakuya of him to leave something like that out of a report, but on the other hand, I really feel like he just kept it to himself.

Would Rukia have mentioned Urahara in her debriefings after she was arrested? On one hand, I do not think she understood who Urahara was and would not have thought much of mentioning him. On the other hand, Rukia is a "snitches get stitches" type to the marrow of her bones and I feel like she would have intentionally wiped any mention of him from her narrative 99% on principle and 1% for the purposes of protecting Ichigo

If I were banished from Soul Society and hiding out in the Living World, I would use an assumed name, probably all the time, but AT VERY LEAST for the case of interacting with active-duty shinigami. The only person who actually did this was Isshin and I honestly believe he just changed his name for wife-guy reasons.

Ichigo did, very much, straight up tell Ikkaku that Urahara taught him to fight and it was quite clear that Ikkaku was fully aware of who Urahara was. Did Ikkaku tell anyone this or otherwise do anything with this information? I feel like he did not.

Does Ikkaku have a security clearance???????

I would not give Ikkaku a security clearance

If I were going 100% by the manga, I would assume that Yoruichi ghosted after they failed to arrest Aizen, given that she's still very much banished, but in Honey Dish Rhapsody, she apparently hung around with Soi Fon for a while. Is it possible that she had some meetings with the Gotei higher ups in the interests of re-establishing a relationship/working on getting the banishment reversed? My heart wants to say no, but Yoruichi often makes herself freely available to the Gotei in filler arcs, so who knows?

When the Advance Team first goes to the Living World, Renji goes to stay at Urahara's in the interest of "asking" Urahara why he put the hogyoku in Rukia (I assume "asking" is a euphemism for breaking his nose). I feel like this could be the natural follow-on to the idea that Renji just got handed a file of classified info related to this mission and is freshly Hot Mad at this dude he didn't know existed up until now.

Presumably, Rukia also could have given Renji a more detailed version of her time in Karakura in a non-official capacity

Presumably also, the Karakura kids could have gone around telling anyone who would listen about their Mysterious Shop Keeper Friend

I think the answer I'm leaning towards is that the Gotei higher-ups knew about Urahara's involvement and re-established communication with him, possibly in an obfuscated way so as not to run into trouble with Central 46 (fairly easy to do, since they were dead at the time). It's a pretty poorly kept secret, but on the other hand, Gotei op-sec seems to lean pretty heavily on the assumption that people who accidentally learn state secrets don't know what they are looking at and will most likely forget it in a day or two anyway.

#urahara kisuke #this isn't even something that matters to the canon material because they just skip straight to the next arc and it's fine #but if you're a girl trying to write a story that takes place in soul society between the two arcs #sometimes all of sudden you're like 'wow i bet renji doesn't even know who urahara is'#also it's kinda fun to think about yamamoto in his office during the ryouka invasion #sasakibe: “sir...you don't think it could be...?”#yamamoto: “...motherfucker”#i like to imagine that urahara had the exact vibes as some shady fence rukia knew in inuzuri or something #i feel like normal shinigami would not have interacted with him in the very specific way that rukia did #but nearly all of bleach happened b/c rukia is built different and this is no exception

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albinokittens300 · 2 days ago

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!Spoilers Under The Cut!

Last critical leaning post, but warning I am gonna boarderline vent here. Hopefully after this I can take up enjoying the vagueness the ending left us with but. Still gotta get this out.

Gonna say it: I swear they just were to scared to give Jinx a positive ending. Like they had such a perfect set up for it and plain and simple the writers were not brave enough to give her the ending she should have gotten.

I wholeheartedly disagree with this idea of her running away is a good ending. It's a terrible one, because it doesn't allow her to heal anything. It allows her to run away from what she needs to heal. It's avoidance not growth. Guess I can be happy she wasn't really dead but that's kinda the most positive thing I can say about her exiling herself by leaving. And this being what is probably a sacrifice for Vi's happyness when it also takes her away from whatever is very clearly being built between her and Ekko? Again. That's not good in my opinion. It's going backwards for her. Chooseing things based on what someone else wants, not herself.

And let me be clear: leaving behind the two people she loves and has a connection with? Is completely out of character for her.

So unless it is intentionally meant to be a short lived absence, which we have nothing inplying that to be the case, I think her leaving is only a few points better than her actually dieing.

It would have made so much more sense to show her coming back and joinning the Firelights and the others who were fighting with them. Her sacrifice, than her walking in amongst a group of Zaunites and Ekko noticing her and a laugh as she plays with him for a minute. It's an open ended thing- we don't know if she really is fully joinning them, how she feels about the new situation between the cities, or Vi- but she is there and faceing the new.

THAT would be so many worlds better than her just being assumed dead and leaving her life completely behind. Because doing that doesn't break the cycle of killing the way Silco was encourageing her to do- it just prevents her from having to make any changes.

Whew. Okay. There, off my chest.

I do have a whole post like this about Episode 7 that I might get the heart up to actually post. Though, I almost refuse just on grounds so many Timebomb fans are loving and enjoying it. The last thing I want to do is tear it down, even if I haveing a harder time of it.

But hopefully with this out I can play with some of the freedom this ending did bless us with. If nothing else, I can have any ending I want because they just let Jinx fly off.

#arcane season 2 #arcane season 2 spoilers #Critical Post #Long Post #Jinx #Ekko #Vi #Timebomb #Ekko x Jinx #Because yea that is a part of this as well

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hollowed-theory-hall · 3 days ago

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Lily Potter is not Mediocre

I wrote this initially as a response to a reblog on this post, but I wanted to give Lily a post of her own that isn't tied in with my rambling about shipping Voldemort. So here it is:

We don't know a lot about Lily, but what we do know implies she is very magically talented and has a bit of a cruel streak to her. She isn't as perfect as some portray her, nor as awful as I've seen some claim her to be. but oh boy do I disagree about her being mediocre.

Let's talk about the magical power first, becouse I feel a lot of people underestimate Lily's magical talent.

“Excellent, excellent, Harry! Good lord, it’s clear you’ve inherited your mother’s talent. She was a dab hand at Potions, Lily was! Here you are, then, here you are — one bottle of Felix Felicis, as promised, and use it well!”

(HBP)

I know some people like to claim Lily was only good at potions because of Snape, but I don't think that's the case. I'm sure he helped her out at first, but they stopped being friends at 5th year and she continued to seemingly have good grades at Potions since Slughorn really loves her.

As a child, Lily has incredible control over her accidental magic and accomplishes difficult magic naturally and intuitively:

But the girl had let go of the swing at the very height of its arc and flown into the air, quite literally flown, launched herself skyward with a great shout of laughter, and instead of crumpling on the playground asphalt, she soared like a trapeze artist through the air, staying up far too long, landing far too lightly.

(DH)

Lily had picked up a fallen flower from the bush behind which Snape lurked. Petunia advanced, evidently torn between curiosity and disapproval. Lily waited until Petunia was near enough to have a clear view, then held out her palm. The flower sat there, opening and closing its petals, like some bizarre, many-lipped oyster.

(DH)

This is way more advanced than magic usually shown by kids, especially because of how controlled it is. The only other character we see on level with Lily's control at such a young age (and who mastered unaided flight on their own) is Voldemort.

Harry also shows insanely powerful accidental magic (including Apparation) and let's just say, I don't think Harry's magical talent came from James.

Lily was both Prefect and head girl (like Tom) again showing she had a great academic track record and was likely a top student in many of her classes. We know she was good at Potions, but she was likely very adapt at Charms as well:

You have your mother’s eyes. It seems only yesterday she was in here herself, buying her first wand. Ten and a quarter inches long, swishy, made of willow. Nice wand for charm work

(PS)

Now, I talked in the past on here about how Harry is insanely magically powerful, specifically when it came to intuitive magic that just reacted to his emotions/desires or him being able to feel magic (this is that post). If we take Dumbledore at his word on how Lily cast her sacrificial love on Harry (which I tend to do) her sacrificial magic was insanely intuitive magic like we see Harry repeatedly do throughout the books.

I think the reason no one else ever did is because of the specific circumstances and Lily's specific words, yes, but I also think, that like her son, she had a knack for her magic responding intuitively to her desires no spell needed. This is a mark of a very powerful wizard/witch and not something a mediocre wizard would be likely to accomplish.

We see Harry cast this same sacrificial love in DH. And he, too, doesn't really cast anything, it's intuitive, his magic is powerful and incredibly reactive to his emotions — and I believe Lily was the same.

JKR has mentioned Voldemort tried to convince James and Lily to become Death Eaters, more than once ("Thrice defied him"). He wouldn't have given them more than one chance if either of them was mediocre. I also don't think he would've tried to get Lily to step aside so he wouldn't have to kill her as many times as he did if he thought she was average at best.

As for her personality, you're right, she isn't exactly Harry, but they do share some very important traits, and as I said, I think she and Tom would clash less than Harry and Tom (as in Lily doesn't get angry the way Harry does, so their reactions would be different).

Lily acted charming and prideful:

She turned, nose in the air, and marched off towards her sister.

(DH)

“Hmpf. Yes, well. You shouldn’t have favorites as a teacher, of course, but she was one of mine. Your mother,” Slughorn added, in answer to Harry’s questioning look. “Lily Evans. One of the brightest I ever taught. Vivacious, you know. Charming girl.I used to tell her she ought to have been in my House. Very cheeky answers I used to get back too.”

(HBP)

Slughorn talks about Lily's personality more than any other character, and what he says does paint her as similar to Harry.

She was talented and bright. Slughorn, who thought Tom Riddle, considers Lily Potter one of the brightest students he ever thought. She was in no way mediocre.

She was charming and had a firey personality to her. She was enthusiastic and charismatic and was easily likable.

I especially like what Slughorn says about Lily being good for Slytherin. Like Harry, she was likely considered by the hat for both Slytherin and Gryffindor due to her cleverness and bravery being both part of her.

And these cheeky answers Slghorn refers to, are like Harry's. Harry is the cheeky student Slughorn is referring to in the same breath as Lily's. Harry got his sass from Lily, not from James. Harry's tendency to back-talk Dark Lords came from his mom.

She's more scared when she's younger, crying more, but she clearly grows up to be fiercer, as Slughorn mentions and as we see in some of the memories:

“Saved? Saved? You think he was playing the hero? He was saving his neck and his friends’ too! You’re not going to — I won’t let you — ” “Letme? Letme?” Lily’s bright green eyes were slits. Snape backtracked at once.

(DH)

As for the cruel streak I mentioned:

Lily, whose furious expression had twitched for an instant as though she was going to smile, said, “Let him down!”

(OotP)

Lily, even as Snape's best friend, can't help but find the bullying funny for just a moment. It means her sense of humor can be on the crueler side at times. The fact that it's implied, even during SWM that Lily didn't really hate James, just disliked his behavior is quite telling. Like, I don't think he needed to change much for her to go out with him. Sirius even says he mostly just stopped hexing people in the halls. I think he wasn't as arrogant, but he was probably still very egocentric. And Lily liked that (contrary to Harry who'd find it more annoying).

Additionally, when Lily wants to, she knows to hit where it hurts (the Slytherin streak Slughorn talks about?):

“That’s where you’re going,” said Petunia with relish. “A special school for freaks. You and that Snape boy ... weirdos, that’s what you two are. It’s good you’re being separated from normal people. It’s for our safety.” Lily glanced toward her parents, who were looking around the platform with an air of wholehearted enjoyment, drinking in the scene. Then she looked back at her sister, and her voice was low and fierce.“You didn’t think it was such a freak’s school when you wrote to the headmaster and begged him to take you.” Petunia turned scarlet.

(DH)

She knows Petunia and she knows what would hurt/embarrass her the most and she goes for the throat. Even if later she tries to smooth things over with her.

I also wanted to note her wand. Ollivanders said she had a Willow wand, and willow wands have some interesting facts about them:

Willow is an uncommon wand wood with healing power, and I have noted that the ideal owner for a willow wand often has some (usually unwarranted) insecurity, however well they may try and hide it. While many confident customers insist on trying a willow wand (attracted by their handsome appearance and well-founded reputation for enabling advanced, non-verbal magic) my willow wands have consistently selected those of greatest potential, rather than those who feel they have little to learn. It has always been a proverb in my family that he who has furthest to travel will go fastest with willow.

(From Pottermore)

(Ron has a Willow wand too, btw, like the second wand he gets that is really his)

This implies Lily was insecure, and you kinda see it in her behavior as a child. Her deference to Petunia and how many questions she asks Snape:

“Normally,” said Snape. “But you’re Muggle-born, so someone from the school will have to come and explain to your parents.” “Does it make a difference, being Muggle-born?”

(DH)

She is scared, walking up to the sorting hat:

He watched his mother walk forward on trembling legs and sit down upon the rickety stool. Professor McGonagall dropped the Sorting Hat onto her head, and barely a second after it had touched the dark red hair, the hat cried, “ Gryffindor”

(DH)

But the hat placed her in Gryffindor becouse of the bravery was there. The insecurity isn't warranted (according to the wand's description). She had the fire and fierceness there all along. she may thought herself average but it was never true.

The description of the wand also suggests Lily would've been quite good with advanced non-verbal magic, which fits everything I mentioned about her magic being very intuitive like Harry's in the first section here.

So Lily is in no way mediocre and Harry is his mother's son.

#harry potter #hp #hp meta #hollowedtheory #harry potter meta #lily potter #lily evans #lily potter meta

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y-a-w-p · 3 days ago

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Honestly I feel like considering it was the 50s and they attended a religious boarding school, I feel like they believed in God to some degree. Like they were definitely raised on it at the very least.

Saying this as a Christian myself, I think Neil was definitely raised on Christianity and was taught that God would solve all your problems if you prayed hard enough. Though I feel like he was one of the kids who asked "If God exists why is there so much bad in the world?" And was never given a clear or even good answer for it. And as he got older he strayed from Christianity a lot because despite how much he prayed for his dad to stop being so hard on him, it never stopped.

In his last months, i can picture him using prayer as a last resort. He already didn't believe in God, but one little part of him wanted so bad for there to be something or someone to take him away from everything. But the more he prayed the less he seemed to believe because his prayers weren't being answered. It's all just a case of religious trauma of you look at it through that lense.

Same for the other poets. All of them were atleast raised with Christianity or atleast believe in a higher power. But after Neil's death their faith most definitely dwindled. All of them probably under the guise that "if God loves us why did he have to let Neil die?" Or something like that. I wasn't raised religious but I was raised knowing there was some higher power and when I was in a similar situation, I started losing belief in a God I wasn't even sure I believed in at the time. That if there was a higher power that protected and loved us why did bad things happen? Again it's all kind of a case of religious trauma of you watch the movie through the guise that they were all raised at least somewhat religious

Sometimes I ask myself if the poets believed in God.

I mean it was the 50s and believing wasn't that unusual. But then, after they discover their true selves, can they still believe in God?

And even more so, did Neil think of God when he decided to kill himself?

Or was the death of Neil the reason why some of the poets were stripped away from the image that Christianity was? After all, if God is an all power being, couldn't he have saved Neil? And if God didn't, then why? Is Neil not deserving of life? Does that make God evil? Completely different from what American Christianity tries to raise you with?

Too many questions

#dps #dead poets fandom #neil perry #christianity #religion #ask me anything #yawping

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theunaveragepsychoticbitch · 3 days ago

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Bunny & Barb

[gn bunny reader, but you do have boobs. Domming from the bottom kind of vibes, but no actual sex. Sub Barbatos ofc. Cumming untouched. And, uh, you call him a good boy]

Barbatos has encountered many demi-creatures before. The Devildom especially was full of them, any and every combination the mind could- and couldn't -think of. Demi humans were a dime a dozen especially.

So he doesn't know why his heart stopped when he saw you.

He'd seen plenty of bunny combos in his life. Hell, they were probably the most common mix in this circle of hell. Yet, every time your fluffy little tail twitched, he blushed. And with the way your ears flop about as you hop through the hallways, easily clearing the heads of even the tallest demons, he soon finds himself entranced.

He wants to know everything about you. Which side of your family do your bunny traits come from? How high can you jump, how fast can you run? Are your ears as soft as they look? If he touches them, would you blush, would you shiver? Where else would you let him touch? How else–

It was embarrassing, really. Improper for one such as himself to think such lustful things about you, despite your limited interactions. He wanted to hide away in shame when you were around. Yet, he couldn't bring himself to look away.

And right now, you wouldn't let him break your gaze no matter how much he wanted to. You, with a mischievous gleam in your eye as you lay across his lap, offering him the chance to touch your ears.

There's no way you were serious. But you weren't getting up, and Barbatos was only getting redder.

"Are... Are you sure? I'll hold no ill will towards you if you change your mind."

You roll on your side, face inches from his stomach. One hand holds your head up just enough to give him a sassy smirk, as the other wraps loosely around his waist. There's a knowing tone to your words as you speak,

"I wouldn't come all the way down to this dungeon you call a room this late at night if I wasn't sure. Bunnies have to sleep too, Barbatos."

You lift your head up to shake your finger at him in mock disappointment, then drop it back into your hand as if that was the hardest thing you've done today.

Dungeon...? He could admit his room was a tad unconventional, but was that really what you thought?

His thoughts are interuppted when you sigh; it's clearer than day that patience isn't your virtue.

"I know you wanna touch 'em, so just do it. I think just about everyone on the student council has noticed your longing stares. I don't bite, dude. You could have just asked."

"I-I.. I didn't wish to be rude. I apolo-"

"By the bells, are we gonna talk all night?! I would have called if that was the case!"

Barbatos isn't sure he's young enough to survive the shock you're giving his nervous system. And he does want to pet you– regardless of the tireless tongue you were cursed with. Perhaps this is how Lucifer feels whenever Mammon speaks.

But unlike Mammon, your prodding works. His touch is nervous, so gentle you question if they're even there. The rise and fall of his chest is slow and controlled, and as your gaze rises, you see his eyebrows pinched just so in concentration.

'They're even softer than I thought...' He thinks. It was like running your hand through a cloud, the blunt ends of your fur tickling his palms. A shudder runs down his back at the feeling. Several traitorous parts of him can't fathom why he didn't ask for this sooner.

Barbatos' deft fingers begin massaging slow circles into the base of your ears. His thumbs press on just the right spots, and against your better judgement you begin to squirm. He moves up, and you can feel his nails running lightly through the short fur. It's electrifying, and you clutch his waist tight at the feeling.

"My apologies- did that hurt?"

"The exact opposite, actually." The end is muffled, as you've pressed your face tight to his midriff. Leeching off his warmth while he massaged you in a downright life-changing way, you almost considered apologizing for acting like an asshole earlier. Almost.

Barbatos found himself feeling much the same as you. The look on your face as he touched you was breathtaking. Every minute change left him hypnotized, his hands eager to draw out something bigger, something better. But there were only so many reactions he could pull from you while only touching one spot. As this thought crosses his mind, Barbatos' eyes begin to wander...

When he finally catches sight of the little ball of fur on your back, his hands move all by themselves.

Your shirt had ridden up just enough to expose your tail. It was perfectly round and looked like it was actually made of clouds. It wiggled so adorably, could you really blame him for just wanting a quick poke?

His hand cupped it, and just as fast as he'd move to touch he snatched his hand away. Your gasp was loud, and the jerk of your body violent. It was as though you'd tried to clutch him and force yourself away at the same time.

"[Name], by the bells are you alr-"

"Keep going, slower this time. And please, stop apologizing for everything."

Lacking the words to communicate any of this, or even the calmness to form a clear thought, really, he prioritizes following orders.

He can't remember the last time he was this embarrassed or this hot and bothered. Your words went straight to his groin, making feelings he'd forgotten he could experience bloom like flowers in a long-awaited spring.

He also couldn't help thinking about how this petting session was quickly starting to get... Heavy.

Lithe fingers slide down your spine and stop just short of your tail. You clutch at him, an attempt to steal yourself against his next move. It fails.

His claw is dragged in a tantalizingly slow circle around the base of your tail, the force of your shivers enough to rip his shirt.

"Fuck, just take this off." Barbatos finds himself stripped before he can even get a chance to agree. The cold air on his skin is refreshing, but as you begin to strip too, he finds himself hot all over again.

Smooth skin with tufts of fur growing in the most eye catching places. The valley of your chest, your happy trail, growing thicker and thicker as your shins merged into rabbit feet.

Straddling his lap, you're chest to chest now. You notice the way he blushes when your breasts brush him. It makes you smirk; he's too easy to tease, eager as he is now. Your nipples press against his own, earning you a cute little gasp. His hands leave your head to hold your hips, his fingers nervously tapping your skin as he seemingly waits for your next order.

"Do you want to kiss me?"

Barbatos surprises you by looking you in the eye when he answers. "Yes."

"Do you want to touch me?"

"So badly."

"Where?"

His voice is raspy, his chest movements erratic as he pushes as close to you as he can possibly get.

"Everywhere."

It's everything you've ever wanted to hear.

You pull him into a kiss, grinding your hips into his lower abdomen as he roams. Large hands with long, skilled fingers, everywhere at once across your skin. His nails sharpen into claws that leave shivers in their wake, pressing lightning into your skin that leaves you pleading for more.

Barbatos can't take it. Your beauty is devastating, the proof of it all over the ruins of his heart. As you arch into his arms, he is reborn. This new Barbatos lives to pleasure you alone; the only reciprocation he needs is your moans.

You move faster, uncaring of the mess you've made on his skin as your peak approaches. His hands don't stop, his sweet, sweet gaze stuck on you, begging for validation. You've never seen someone beg so deeply without saying a single word. Tell him what he really wants to hear.

"Fuck. You're such a good boy, Barbatos."

He cums untouched, holding on to you tight as trembles wreck him.

Tears cascade down his face, but it's the dazed watery look of joy in his eyes that makes you cum. Your arousal coats his abdomen, further staining his pants as it drips down and soaks into the fabric.

Minutes take as long to pass as hours in the fading light of your orgasms. Sweaty, sticky, and far too hot, you release yourself from his arms to flop back onto the couch. Your legs are draped across his lap, your left arm hanging as your right rests on your head. You've never seen Barbatos without rigid posture before. This is your first time seeing his shoulders sag, his neck fully extended to rest his head on the back of the couch. He's taking deep, open mouthed breaths. You think his eyes are still cloudy too.

'Hot,' You think.

The silence after is littered with pants. Barbatos can't hold a thought long enough to make sense of what just happened, so he doesn't try to. He lets himself drift away on thoughts of soft fur, softer skin, and a cute bunny with a terrible attitude.

When he wakes up, you're long gone, but at least you threw a blanket over him. He's not sure if it slipped off in his sleep, or if you didn't try to fully cover him from the start, but he appreciates it nonetheless.

When he checks his DDD, he's quick to find your contact. There's only one text from you.

[Name]: So, were they softer than you thought?

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