#a tired mother please save her

[ratatatastic]

a shorty poked in by monty on a barky pass in front of the net makes it 6-1 cats

a scrum ensues when monty grabs marchys attention and cellys in front of him

boston bruins @ florida panthers game 2 | 5.8.24

and the misconduct call to which the ref could not be bothered to name every player and just went "all 4 guys have a 10 minute misconduct"

[maddybthorne]

I want a BBC Merlin fanfic where Hunith visits Camelot as a surprise. Merlin doesn't know she's coming, only Gaius knows that she plans to visit. This is set in a time period where all the knights are alive (I'm looking at you Lancelot.) and Arthur is Prince, but running the Kingdom as Uther is unwell.

Hunith pulls up to Camelot and is walking towards the Castle through the citadel, burdened by her bags, when a cheerful voice rings out. "Do you need any help, miss?" It's one of the many Castle servants.

Hunith explains that she is heading to the Castle to visit her son who works there, the servant then offers to carry her bags.

"Oh I don't want to be a bother." Hunith replies

"It's no bother at all! Really, I was heading that way already." The servant insists and they both make their way to the castle, "What's your son's name by the way, I might know him if he works here."

"His name is Merlin." Hunith responds with a smile. The servant stops walking and looks at her. It's not only him that stops at this announcement.

"Y-you're Merlin's Mother?!?" A nearby servant who had been close enough to hear the conversation says in awe.

The courtyard that they're walking through gradually fills with hushed whispers as the news spreads. Everyone knows of Merlin. The Prince's manservant who had managed to not quit in the first week of serving him. Merlin, who changed the Prince from a spoiled brat into a good man whom the Kingdom was proud of and eagerly awaited the day he would be crowned King. Merlin, who had followed the Prince into battle time and time again to save Camelot.

I want a fanfiction where The Entire Of Camelot loves Merlin and is thankful for his role in making Arthur a good person. Where not only the Knights, but the Castle staff meet his mother and collectively decide that she is That Woman and treat her with Respect. Where they treat her like Royalty.

Ofc Gwaine loves her. That's his best friend's mom. Hunith looks at all the knights and adopts them on the Spot.

And Merlin is either really confused by this behavior or knows and just lets it happen.

Arthur has no idea what's going on or why but he treats her with reverence and love because that's his future Mother in Law and he's very much starved for parental affection which she gives him (and the knights) in spades.

But yes, I just want a fic of people meeting Hunith and being like "Thank you for giving birth to your son. I'd die for you both" and her being like "...please don't."

(Bonus if Leon meets her and is just like. "How did you survive being around that little shit (Merlin) for so long?" And she just laughs and gives him advice, which makes him cry because he's just so tired. #LetLeonRest2024 I will push this agenda till I die)

[sonolynn]

Blood and Cheese

request: Aemond x ( Rhaenyra x Criston daughter ) niece were married and having a son. instead kill aegon son b&c kill Aemond son. How Rhaenyra daughter try to save her son from b&c and what people react after find out about Aemond son being kill. I need this fic so bad…

summary | Daemon took Rhaenyra's words literally. "A son for a son" he said. Who knew that it would be your son?

pairing | Aemond Targaryen x Fem!Wife!Reader

tags | mentions of BLOOD, extreme grief, talk of child murdering, knifes, MORE BLOOD, infanticide, DEATH, extreme grief. mentions of murder

w.c | 3.8k

TW!!!!!!!!! | I personally have a very gruesome writing style when it comes to things like this, so if anything relating to infanticide or violence will trigger or bother you please don't read!!

____________________________________________

You loved your son. You named your son Baelon, after your mothers lost brother. Aemond knew how much you love Baelon, and he would be a fool if he said he did not love his son as well. 

Aemond tried to pride himself with being stoic and emotionally unavailable. But the minute they put his squirming son's body in his arms he felt his whole world resolve. The boy was the most beautiful thing to him, and he couldn’t believe that half of this being came from him. 

Ever since that night, Aemond became softer. When you weren’t breastfeeding, or when you got tired from taking care of the crying infant, Aemond would immediately offer to take the boy. When Bealon would cry in the middle of the night, Aemond would be up almost immediately, rushing to be at the babe's side. It took you almost forty minutes to convince him that it would be better if he slept with you and not in the nursery. 

And everything was fine until the night he killed Luke. 

Aemond would come back to the Keep late at night, still shaken from what he had involuntarily done. When he got back to his chambers, he saw his wife, his sweet, innocent wife holding his son. 

You had a smile on your face, Baelon coo’ing in your arms as he giggled and reached up to play with your braided, black hair. When you looked up, and noticed Aemond, your smile faltered. 

Aemond stared at you, and for a second his face was his normal and stoic, but the minute his son, his little Baelon, reached for him with a smile he broke down. 

That night he told you everything; He apologized profusely, and for the first time in all of Baelon’s four months of living, he refused to hold him. 

“I’ll only hurt him.” Is what Aemond told you. Your heart broke a little when you heard this, and you tried to reassure him but he wouldn’t have any of it. 

____________________________________________

“Aemond?” Aemond stopped, looking at you with a soft sigh.

“Darling, what have I told you about sleeping on the couch?” His voice was tired, full of weariness from having to deal with Aegon’s antics. You smiled softly as you sat up, holding out your hands out for him. He sighed as he sat down with you. He immediately cuddled against you, letting out a long, heavy breath as his head come into contact with your chest. 

This was how you two spent most of your time now. At night, Aemond would come to you and he would cuddle against you, yearning for that love and affection only you could seemingly give him. You two sat like this for a while, you stroking his head, and him stroking your stomach. 

“...I do regret that business with Luke, you know.” 

“I know.” 

There was more silence. It seemed that between you and Baelon, the only time Aemond’s mind was quiet now was when he was with you, in your embrace, being held by you. Not being treated as a monster, or a ruthless warrior, but rather just a man. Just your husband. 

In the distance, you heard the sound of your son’s wails. You sighed heavily, and you looked down at Aemond. 

“Perhaps he wishes for his father’s arms.” You spoke softly, watching as Aemond slowly sat up. 

“He does not.” He shook his head, leaning against the back of the couch. He avoided your gaze, knowing the somber look you were giving him. 

“Are you sure you do not wish to join me?” Aemond sat still, a look on his face that held some sort of thought before he shook his head softly. 

“I’ll see him first thing in the morning, my love.” You smiled at the thought, and you held his hand as you walked away. He watched you leave, a sad smile on his face. The wails from Baelon stopped moments later, and Aemond sighed heavily. 

Tomorrow, he thought, i’ll see him tomorrow. 

The worst part about this sentiment is that Aemond would see his son tomorrow. However, Baelon would be on a pyre. 

____________________________________________

The night started off peaceful. You sat in your rocking chair, rocking back and forth with Baelon in your arms. You smiled to yourself, holding the-now-sleeping babe in your arms. You hadn’t even registered the two men behind you. 

When one of them accidently knocked something over, you immediately jumped. 

“Aemond?” You whispered, quickly turning around. However, you were met with the face of two, unruly men you didn’t recognize. You saw the bag they held, along with the rat traps. “Who-Who are you?” You tried to stay strong, but you knew your voice gave away your fear. 

One of the men, the taller, bigger one looked you up and down. He turned to the other man and spoke softly. “Who is she?” 

“This…Is the one eyed prince’s wife.” Your breath hitched as the shorter man spoke. They both looked reasonably dirty, like rat catchers, but you knew something was wrong. 

“There are no rats in here.” The two men started to walk towards you, murmuring something about your husband underneath their breath. You had half a mind to turn and run, but they seemed to have the same idea. 

The shorter man came to you, and put a knife to your throat. You gasped, and clutched Baelon closer to you. The boy whined softly at the pressure. 

“Give us the boy, and we won’t hurt you.” The taller man spoke. You looked at him and held Baelon tighter.

“You have no business with my son-”

“Give us the boy!” The taller men yelled. You flinched, and at the sudden noise, Baelon started to cry. You looked between the men, and you felt tears in your eyes as the anxiety started to build up in your chest. 

“I-I have uhm..I have many valuable items. I have gold! I have lots of gold that I have no need for-” 

The taller man kicked the edge of Baelon’s crib and you held back a scream. The taller men started to speak to the shorter man, but the words they spoke didn’t process fully in your brain. All you saw was an open door. 

“AEM-” You started to scream your husband's name, but the man with the knife to your throat pushed the knife further and grabbed your hair roughly. You cried, and Baelon wailed in your arms. The taller man put his hand on Baelon’s head and tried to pry him from you grip. 

“NO!” You cried out, trying to pull him back, but it didn’t work. With a quick snap your boy was pried from you. The shorter man threw you back, causing you to hit your head against the chair you were previously rocking in. 

Your head was fuzzy, and all you heard was the wails of your son, painful wails that slowly died down. When you sat up, you saw the men putting the tiny head of your son in a bag. Your whole world stopped, and just as the men escaped down the hall, you screamed. 

Your chest ached, and your throat burned. You stare down at the body, slowly crawling to it as you shake your head and mutter small, inconsistent prayers to yourself. You reached out a hand, placing it on the body’s belly, rubbing it softly as if that would relieve some of the pain that was given to your innocent baby boy. 

You choked on your own tears, wishing for nothing more than your own death in that moment. Screams erupted from your throat; Horrid, painful screams followed by sobs. This pain, this all consuming immeasurable pain you wished on no one. The feeling of your own blood on your hands as you stared at the decapitated body was sickening, but you couldn’t look away. 

How could something so small hold so much blood? You thought to yourself, watching as the blood spilled from the clumsy cut. 

Alicent was the first to arrive, followed by Aemond soon after. Alicent stared at the scene in front of her, and while she resented you (seeing you as a constant reminder of Rhaenyra’s blatant lie to her), the pain she felt for you was disgusting. She backed out of the room slowly and placed a hand on her stomach to ground herself.

Aemond couldn’t step into the room. He just stared down at you, his son's body. The thought that this headless, infants body was his own son’s, his baby boy’s-

He couldn’t move. The pain for him was nothing short of paralyzing. But what broke him the most was you. 

You sobbed, violently sobbed as you placed your hands in your son's blood and tried to pull it back. As if that would fix everything. Aemond felt nauseous, seeing you so desperately cling to the idea that you could fix this. Once the realization started to settle that this was not helping, your body seemed to shut down. You laid down, holding your hands on your son's body as you sobbed. 

No words were exchanged, not knowing what to say. Aemond leaned against the door frame, mind numb as he slowly slid down the frame. He stared at nothing, his mind replaying all the times he held the boy, watched him smile.

____________________________________________

Aemond stood next to you the following day, watching as your baby boy's body was burned on a pillar. He was numb, his face pale and full of so much grief that it sobered anyone up. You were a mess. Tears and incoherent sobs escaped your throat, and you clung to Aemond. Aemond stayed still, gently holding you as if any small movement would cause the last shred of resolve to leave your body. 

As the fire burned, you buried your face into Aemond’s chest, refusing to watch. Aemond let you, holding your head softly. 

But Aemond stared. He watched as the wrapped body was consumed by the flames. He forced himself to watch as the flames consumed his son, his own retribution for not being there, for not helping you, for not holding his son one last time. 

As he watched the ashes of the pyre falter, Aemond made a promise to himself. 

He would kill Daemon Targaryen with his own hands.

____________________________________________

a/n: guys im sorry.

[thewitchandtheassassin]

Life, Death, and the Space in Between Part One (Agatha Harkness x Reader x Rio Vidal)

Summary: Bound together by power and fate, you and Rio are undeniably tied, but Agatha Harkness was something unexpected - yet in the end...

Words: 1664

Warnings: Canon deaths, AAA, uh... language, child birth kinda? Angsty? I dunno, there's things.

A/N: A retake and partial redo of AAA (in the sense of "what if"). This is gonna be a... four part series? I think?

-X-

Cries of pain echoed throughout the trees as Agatha stumbled towards the water, body finding purchase against the trunk of a tree as another contraction washed over her. Everything ached, but she didn’t care. All she had worked for was so close. She just needed a little more strength and her child would be tucked into her arms, a beacon of her love.

She hardly noticed the unnatural silence that befell the forest, the wind dying into nothing more than an occasional puff of air. All she could see was- feel, hear - was the sound of her own heartbeat.

Glancing up as another cramp hit, she caught sight of two familiar figures lingering near. The beating of her heart quickened, so overwhelmed at the prospect of you both being there to meet your son, but the identical expressions you wore sent her heart plummeting.

He is not mine, you conveyed to Rio regretfully, tears prickling the corner of your eyes.

Life and Death stood, watching critically over the mortal who’d stolen their hearts. While bound together forever in a way no one would ever understand or be capable of recreating, you had both found the tiny piece you were missing within Agatha. You’d found a middle ground.

Death took a step forward.

Life took two steps back.

“It cannot be,” Agatha breathed, inching away from the green witch as she neared.

You could feel Rio’s heart cracking, felt the anguish and guilt rushing over her.

“It must be,” she replied gently.

“You do this and I will hate you forever,” Agatha spat fearfully, glancing between you. “Both of you.”

A sob clawed its way up your throat, suffocating and vile. This was the hardest moment you’d ever been summoned to.

“Please let him live!” Agatha cried. “Please, my loves. Don’t take him from me.”

Pleas began falling like tears, and your entire being called out to you. Begged you to rush to her side. To heal your son.

Rio’s eyes drifted closed for a moment before a dark stare met Agatha. You could see the parts of Rio warring. Her nature and her love clashing together in a battle, both reaching out to Agatha before being yanked back.

“I can offer only time.”

She peered at you. Save him.

Your feet moved before you could fully comprehend what was happening. Your knees hit the dirt in front of Agatha, warm light shining from your hands as they touched her swollen belly.

Looking over your shoulder at Rio, you watched the veil that separated you from mortals swirl around her.

Tell him of me, she begged, tears streaming down her cheeks in rivets.

All the time, my love, you vowed.

Attention returning to Agatha, you smiled up at her faintly. “Let’s bring our boy into the world, shall we?”

-X-

Years passed. Years of joining your love to decide the fate of a life. Years of watching your little boy grow, watching him become sick, watching him grow frail and tired…

Watching your lover kill in hopes of distracting your other lover. Watching her use your son to do it but never allowing Rio too close. Watching Agatha grow colder. Meaner. Deadlier.

As life comes and goes, you were often pulled away from Nicholas, helping the other piece of your soul collect and distribute life and death as needed. But for the times you were with him, watching him blossom and shrink, you never let him forget about the woman who offered him time.

As you stepped through the trees, veil falling away into your human form, you watched the beautiful smile break across Nicky’s face before he was bounding into your arms, clinging to you like a lifeline.

“Mother! You are back!” he beamed up at you, his thin arms gripping you as tight as he could. It was devastating to see the sickness ravaging him, knowing you could do nothing to change it.

“Hello, my littlest love,” you cooed, carding your fingers through his long hair before peering over his head at Agatha. “And my tall love.”

“If you are here, will I see Mami tonight in my dreams?” Nicky whispered into your ear, shrieking happily as you lifted him, tossing him over your shoulder and holding him tightly as his little feet kicked.

“Maybe.”

Agatha rolled her eyes affectionately as you pressed a kiss to her cheek, Nicky thrown playfully over your shoulder and squealing as you swung him about. She was surprised to see you return so soon, and her heart thumped painfully as she thought to Rio.

As the afternoon progressed into night, Nicky regaled you with tales of their exploits. Your heart ached, knowing the reasons behind Agatha’s choices but refusing to discourage your son from telling his vivid stories. You were so… angry with Agatha, for doing this to him, but in another life, maybe you would’ve done the same.

After he was tucked onto a small pallet, blanket right around his frail form, you joined Agatha at the edge of the water. Staring out into the darkness, you spoke softly, “This has bid you some time but you know this cannot stop the inevitable, my love.”

Bristling, Agatha turned to walk away, unwilling to hear your truths, but a steady hand caught her.

“You need to hear me, Agatha. She has given all she can. She has fought the universe to keep him here; avoided her own son so that Death would not call him home yet. But we cannot keep him here. He is not meant to be here, yet we let him walk and talk and be here with you. And you still hate her for the time she has allowed me to give him. Without her, he never would have taken his first breath. You need to unbury your head from the sands and accept we cannot change fate anymore than we have.”

Eyes flaring purple with fury, Agatha shoved you but you did not waver. “You are essentially gods! Yet one child unravels the cosmos? Fate? He is my son and you want to let her take him from me!”

“He is our son,” you corrected sharply. “He is her son. As much as he is mine or yours. She made him as we did. She does not get to watch him grow as we did. Hold him. Love him. Because she wanted to grant you time with him and yet you spit in her face!”

Staring into the reddened face of your lover, you softened slightly. “She loves Nicholas. I love Nicholas. And we love you. Gods know we do not wish to hurt you. But he is sick. His body is tired. You know there is only one way.”

“If you cannot understand why I do what I must to keep him here, maybe you should leave,” Agatha whispered, eyes filling with anger and tears. “I will do whatever I can to save him.”

Bowing your head, you tugged her into a tight embrace, pressing your lips to the crown of her head as she cried silently against your chest. It was raw and painful and you knew this was the last time you would see her for a very long time.

By the time she wandered back to camp, you were gone.

-X-

The shadows of night surrounded you as you and Rio approached the campsite one night, hand in hand. Her eerie green torch illuminated the path, her true form hidden beneath a familiar guise.

“I don’t want to scare him,” she had mumbled, cheek resting against your shoulder as time ticked down.

The heavy fall winds dragged Nicholas from his slumber and he slowly sat upright, eyes landing upon the eerie light. His eyes brightened before dimming, realization crashing into his chest. He peered down, watching his body remain as he stood.

Rio gestured for him to kiss his mother and he obeyed, whispering, “I love you,” before meeting you and Rio at the forest edge.

She cupped his cheek sweetly, thumb soothing on his paling flesh. “It’s time, love.”

“I am afraid,” he admitted shyly, wide eyes flickering between you as if ashamed of the admittance.

Crouching down, both of your hands found his lithe shoulders and squeezed reassuringly, letting light and warmth pour from you. “We will be with you every step, darling. I swear it.”

He peered over at Agatha, eyes shimmering in the green light. “I do not fear dying, but I do not want Mama to be alone. She is going to be so lonely.”

Your chest seized painfully.

“Our sweet, wonderful boy,” you breathed, peeking up at your partner, who stared at Nicky adoringly. “I promise, we will not be far from her, even if she cannot see us. Even if she is angry. She is etched into our bones and we will not stray far.”

“I will miss her,” he murmured, “But I will see her again one day?”

“Yes, sweetheart, and someday, we shall be a family again. A complete family.” Looking at Rio, you smiled sadly and cupped her face with your free hand. “One day, we shall never be apart again.”

“A complete family,” Nicholas repeated with a smile, peering up at Rio. “With Mami this time.”

Carefully making your way to the bridge, shadows and light swirled around as you passed through the veil and Nicholas was brought into the embrace of his mother’s domain. You were not ignorant to the pain that would overtake Agatha when the sun rose above the horizon, so once Nicholas found the space crafted especially for him, you returned to the mortal plane and stood above the resting witch.

Stooping down, you patiently maneuvered Nicholas’ mortal body in Agatha’s arms, tucking his blanket tight around him before pressing a butterfly soft kiss to Agatha’s temple.

“I am sorry, my love,” you muttered, pecking her temple again before disappearing with the morning light, soul aching as her wails crested the treetops.

[millersfinest]

untethered⁵ | e.w

00s!ellie williams & 00s!miller!reader

wc: 10.6k

series: chapter one, chapter two, chapter three, chapter four, chapter five (you're here!)

blurb: it’s been awhile since you’ve been back home; in upstate new york where you’ve spent most of your life waking up early and tending to the animals that moo’d and meh’d. after graduation high school, and then college, the city life has stolen most of your attention. enabling you to visit only a handful of times through the years. when your lovely adoptive parents (tommy and maria miller) invite you back for a thanksgiving dinner—a troubled old flame from your childhood manages to get your attention, despite its explosive ending.

cw: lmao flip phones, r and ellie NOT beating the cheating allegations, more use of y/n then i would prefer, she/her pronouns, vulgar language, some angst (not on ellie’s watch tho), fuckgirl!ellie (kind of), the millers, r is a writer (she doesn’t write much in this ch wink wink 3.0), using fuck as a conjunction word, ellie needs the reader bad, a few arguments sprinkled in, elements of longing, ellie is #1 lesbian yearner in the world, some early 2000s references, thanksgiving, r is very anxious, hella angst, the CAT may be out the bag (can mean many things), some adoption related turmoil, emotional cheating (from ellie), cute mother daughter moment, repressed emotions, lots of angst in this chapter, ellie is mean when she don't fw you, not a lot of reader x ellie in this ngl.

note: finally the 5th installment, hope it's worth the wait my lovely readers!!! i'm gonna be honest tho... this wasn't the most fun chapter to write (maybe cause the reader and ellie aren't as horny as i would prefer lmao), but the narrative shall prosper regardless of my feelings. this may or may not be the second to last chapter of this series. idk yet, i'm still planning right nowwww. i might post a poll soon to help decide. anyway, thank you guys for being super patient while i wrote this chapter, so without further ado... thousands of bisous ofc <3 and please enjoy this angsty ass chapter!!

Stood before you was a very disappointed looking Joel. His deep brown eyes squinted with fatigue and restlessness; arms crossed over his chest. At the alert of his presence, you shut your eyes trying to come up with some way to save yourself—even though there was none. It was laugh worthy, really.  

I don’t wanna assume nothin'… So, I suggest you start explainin’ what in the hell’s bell’s is goin’ on here.

You were unsure if his southern accent was stronger because of his disappointment, or if he just sounded like that when he was tired. But, either way, the question was valid. What the hell was going on?  

He called your name, snapping you from the rushing thoughts in your head. “Huh?” Those words came out of you more like a sound than words and letters. you were a child all over again, struggling under the fist of authority. Followed by a deep sigh, walking toward the counter, leaning your hands on the cool, smooth marble top. “Ellie and I are… Just catching up. S’all there is to it, Joel.”

He echoed a sigh, running his hand over his dark, graying hair and beard—he didn’t believe you. Not that you even tried to come up with a good enough lie that would be believable. “Now, Bug…” Joel began, shaking his head. “I know you’re not a liar; Tommy and Maria sure as hell didn’t raise you to be one—“  

“Joel, please—“

“If I heard what I think I heard… In that bedroom of yours. You and Ellie were doin’ a lot more than just catching up!” He whisper-yelled, careful not to disturb your parents upstairs. The man could barely keep eye contact with you, pointing his finger, accusingly. “She has a girlfriend who is in that guesthouse—“  

“I know, I know—“  

“Then, what the hell were you thinkin’?”  

You solemnly sigh, having your actions thrown back in your face. It sucked because he was right. “We… We have unfinished history. It just happened.”  

Joel scoffed, averting his brown eyes. “Things like that don’t just happen…”  

He was right—sex doesn’t just happen. There are steps that lead to that pleasurable event; it doesn’t just happen, and you knew that. But it was easier to say it that way. As if the two of you sleeping together, kissing each other was all acts of fate and prophecy. Something you had no control over. Even though, control was never stricken from you. If anything, you were always grasping for it.  

You chose to invite Ellie into your room, into your body, into your mind—you wanted her more than anything.  

That was something you couldn’t be sorry about.  

“Please, don’t tell my parents.” You almost squeaked out, looking up at him like a child charged with punishment. If Maria and Tommy found out about this, she’d have your head! And Tommy will be trying to talk her down—it would be a mess. At twenty-five, it wasn’t that you were afraid of your parents; you just didn’t want to disappoint them. “We need some time to figure this out…”  The fear that they would regret bringing you into their life weighed heavy on you.

With a raised eyebrow, he pursed his lips in thought. “Does Ellie plan on breaking things off with Cat?”  

“Yeah, not right away, but yeah.”  

“Not right away?”  

“Thanksgiving— she doesn’t wanna do it today with everything goin’ on. And they live together, so she has to arrange a few things…” You trail off, deepening your eyebrows with worry. “Oh, my God… Is she two-timing me? Is Ellie two-timing me?” Slapping your hands to your forehead, you squeezed your eyes shut. What the fuck. What the fuck. You repeated curses in your mind.  You were spiraling yourself into a stupor.

Joel walked around the corner, stabilizing you by placing his hands on your shoulders. “Ellie is many things, but she’s not a two-timer… All I’m saying is to handle this with caution. You’re hurting another person doing this—“  

“Fuck, Joel, I know… I don’t need the reminder.”  

“I’m gonna talk to her about this… About resolving this.”

You look at him with a pointed glare. “Resolving— there’s nothing to resolve. If everything goes according to plan—“  

He grunted, rolling his eyes. “Things like this never go to plan. Come on, Bug, you’re smarter than this… You know better.” Joel told, narrowing his eyes. He walked around the counter to you, to squeeze your shoulder. But that didn’t change the fact that his words stung.  

You know better.  

You did know better, but you acted anyway. Perhaps, it was a mistake; it was a mistake you were willing to ride on until it met its end. Which could be one of two things: complete and utter destruction, or… Happiness. Why was there such a large gap between those two endings?  

“Ellie,” He began, shaking his head, filling you with insecurity. “You know how she can be… Impulsive at times.” Joel pressed his lips into a line, looking past you, in thought. “I’m not even sure if she realizes the gravity of what she’s doing to her or you— not until it blows up in her face, which it will if you two keep it up.”

So, the both of you just had to work harder at hiding it. For now, at least.  

He rubbed his hand together, glancing his eyes up the stairs. “I won’t say anything to your parents… Just do a better job of keeping this to yourselves, please.” The older man prepared to head back up, but he looked at you one last time. “This isn’t me agreeing with what y’all are doin’— because I don’t. I don’t agree nor do I support cheating.” He exhaled, shaking his head, disappointingly. Feet nearing the steps to ascend back to his bedroom. “Just get it together.”  

Joel left you to gather your thoughts—but there was nothing to gather. Your mind was already made; you’ve already dug a hole for yourself. Seeing it through was the only option. Perhaps, the two of you had to shape up, though. Tommy even gave a side glance before you’d hopped off the porch to grab the wine; Ellie needs to be more careful. And so do you.  

Shutting out the lights, you heavily creeped back up the stairs to your bedroom. The dim bedroom that had the remnants of your lover minced in the air… And under your pillow. Grabbing your laptop from the charger, you arranged your pillows to support your back—that’s when you noticed the red and white striped boxer shorts Ellie left behind. Even though, you purposely threw them at her to put on before you parted from one another.  

Holding out the underwear that was marked with arousal, you threatened to smell it. Truly. But, before you could, your conscience got the best of you. Wasn’t it creepy to smell someone’s underwear? Let alone, a woman's... Instead, you stuffed it in the box you kept under your bed—which, very well, could’ve been worse.  

Feeling the need to tell Ellie of their pending situation with Joel, you logged onto MySpace. There was a small green circle that appeared on her icon. She was already online.  

BugsWritersRoom: Hey… Just ran into Joel. Not great.  

There wasn’t a much of a long wait before she responded.  

StarlightWilliams: duck what happened?  

StarlightWilliams: fuck*  

Her correction made you chuckle.  

BugsWritersRoom: He heard us. That’s what happened.  

BugsWritersRoom: We have to do better. Stop making everything so obvious…

BugsWritersRoom: At least, until you break up with Cat.  

There was a long pause in her responses. Longer than you’d anticipate her response would take.  

StarlightWilliams: noted.

Ellie’s response was dryer than you expected it to be, but the fatigue washing over you forbid you from investigating it.

Shutting your laptop, you nuzzled into your pillows with the auburn-haired artist on your mind. It was only right that you gave the relationship another chance; if it inevitably ends, you just hope it would be less explosive than last time. Amicable. Where the two of you could actually stand to be around each other after the fact.

If you had it your way, though, you’d never want to part from her again. It was easy to believe that Ellie was your person. Somebody who was only perfect for you. In a world of feeling nothing, she made you feel something more than lust or forced romanticism.  

When morning came, you were exhausted as fuck, to say the least. Awakened by your programmed alarm, and a blaring rooster that didn’t know how to shut the hell up after his first few yodels.  

Meandering down the stairs, you were told to speed through the morning chores, to begin help with the cooking, which you didn’t mind. However, Ellie wasn’t there for the spiel. Joel had appeared, saying that she was going to be little late. At the sight of him, you couldn’t help but be struck with anxiety. Although, he looked and acted the same as he always did.

Either way, you fed the chickens, groomed, and fed the horses—and that’s when she found you. Brushing Tokyo and feeding fresh carrots to keep him entertained and focused. He was a horse who only responded to pleasantries; Tokyo was a man of high honor. “Someone’s bein’ a good horse.” Ellie cooed, approaching you and Tokyo with her hands stuffed in the pockets of her jeans.

There was something off about her demeanor. Her shoulders were stiffened, cheeks flushed enough to insinuate an altercation. In addition to that pinched line between her thick eyebrows.  

There definitely was one, but she wasn’t going to admit that to you. Joel and Ellie were officially on bad terms—but she said nothing about that because she doesn’t want to alarm you.  

“Where were you this earlier? I thought I was helping you get in routine for your new farmhand position…” You tossed the brush aside, crossing your arms over your chest. Ellie didn’t stop walking until her body collided with yours. Hand finding a comfortable place along your jaw, preparing to pull you in toward her lips. Placing two fingers over her lips, you pull back. “What the hell are you doing?” You chuckle, looking around for any unwanted eyes.

Her hands slid down you arms, shoulder slumping. “What part of we need to do better do you not understand?” You questioned, looking intently into her dilated eyes.

Ellie ran a hand over her hair, sighing, tiredly. “What is wrong with you?” You press, deepening her eyebrows.  Suddenly feeling the need to comfort her.

The truth was, she was stressed. Joel had stressed her out. He found out about them and was pressing Ellie to tell Cat about it—or break up with her because she deserves to know the truth. But, today, Cat woke up like the happiest person alive, which was off brand for her. She showered Ellie with kisses she didn’t want and hopped up to make breakfast for them. It was weird, but she was happy; Ellie doesn’t want to ruin that. She just wanted to linger in the happiness that was the memory of your lips on hers.

“I just woke up feelin’ funky— it’s nothing…” She looked down, twisting her foot into the sprawled hay over the ground. “A kiss could help my condition, though…” Ellie raised a scarred brow, lips curling at the end.  

Pressing your lips into a line, you look over her shoulder than yours—making sure there aren’t any prying or peeving eyes. “Just one…” You mutter, pulling her close by the material of her unzipped jacket. She smirked against your lips, moving them in sync with yours.

The tenseness in her muscles loosened and relaxed under your touch, as she released a breath of fresh air against your face through her nose. Placing her soft, yet calloused hand at the curve of your jaw. Ellie made the kiss deeper by dragging her tongue against your bottom lip, begging for more—but you pulled away. She chased your lips, causing you to giggle as you turned your face. “I have a full plate this morning… I could use your help— as long as you stay focused!” You prodded your index finger at her chest. “Plus, it’ll help for when it’s just you on the farm.”

“Oh, I can stay focused.” She crossed her arms, overzealously.  

“Okay,” You snicker. “Well, why don’t we split up to cover more ground?”  

Her features fell. “Split up? Hey, I didn’t agree to splitting up.” Ellie pouted, taking a step closer to you. Playing with the frayed hem of the flannel sticking out from under your jacket.  

Splitting up was the best course of action, so you could begin helping your mother in the kitchen—because you know she needs it. Unless Cat’s planning to take your place on that front. Anyway, them splitting up could help their developing case with Joel. You want to prove to him that you’re as smart as he think you are. That you’re not blindly love struck by a destructive idea—that the words he told you meant something. And, in a way, helping Ellie with her impulsivity.  

“It’s for the best, Els. You get to put to work what you learned these past few mornings— so it’ll really stick.” You spoke, positively. “And there’s another half of the farm that you’re inexperienced with… So, it’s better if I just run through it alone.” You nod with a friendly smile on your lips. Almost too friendly.  

“Hm…” Ellie hummed, peering around the horse barn.  

“I already did half the work; the chicken’s and horses are already fed. I’m, basically, done with grooming Tokyo— just detangle his mane and tail, and do that same process with Sarah, which should be easy because she’s still a baby and barely has any hair.” You rambled like a professional farmer. It truly was muscle memory getting back into the chores.  

“Wait, what’s the process…?”  

“There’s a bucket of soap and water,” You point to the bucket at door of the horses’ space. “Use that to help with the brushing and detangling. That’s the process. Don’t worry about the horse shoes— my dad does all that.” You waved your hand, then reached into your coat to grab the notepad. Ripping the thin paper from the rings, you hand it over. “After this, all you have left is the garden. So, whenever you’re done, come find me.”  

Ellie took the note paper from your hands, plucking it with her fingers. “Uhm, if I have any questions…? What if I do something wrong?”  

You sighed, snatching the paper back from her. “Trust yourself. You’ve done this before, Ellie. But if you have any questions… Here’s my cell. I have it on me.” You scribble down your phone number, handing it back to her.  

She giggled, taking the paper back. “You just gave me your digits…” Ellie teased, dangling the page in front of you.  

“For professional purposes only.” You winked, before leaving her to finish the horse grooming.  

When you skipped away, Ellie didn’t quite know how to take your place. After finishing up Tokyo, walking him to his open space to grift along with the other horses, Sarah was next. And you failed to mention that she was a bit of runner when it came to retrieving her.  

It’s been made clear that she was already fucking up—said by Joel Miller—so, she didn’t want to fuck up the only job she had. The job you gave her.  

So, instead of moping and overthinking the words of her adoptive father, she looked to that lined notebook paper as if it were the Bible. Ellie couldn’t let you down over something as specific as farming chores. These were living beings. If she failed to do this correctly, you may never fall into her how she hoped

Meanwhile, you hustled cows and goats, hastily. Rain boots splashing into mud and manure, leaving marks along its battered rubber soles. Tucked into your back pocket, your phone began to vibrate, sounding off the ringtone of your choosing. Without glancing at the caller ID—assuming it was Ellie. You pressed the phone button.  

“Calling already?” You raised an eyebrow, while monitoring the chaotic goats around you. They were competitive eaters who’d rather trample over one another to eat their food, than stand by for their own servings. You scold them under your breath, pushing them off each other.  

“You want me to come to dinner tonight, or not?” She snickered on the other side of the line.  

“Oh, Abby, hey… Sorry that was meant for someone else— it’s been a long morning.” You pinched the bridge of your nose, shaking your head. “Yeah, I still want you to come. What’s up?”  

Abby laughed, yawning. Did she just wake up? “When’s your family having dinner tonight— wanna make sure I’m planning accordingly.” There was raspiness to her voice that was soothing to your ears.  

Rubbing a hand over your forehead, you thought. It was basically undetermined, but you had dinner around the same time every year. Six-ish. Seven-ish. “Sometime around six, I think. What? You plannin’ on makin’ a good impression?�� Pinching the phone between the side of your face and shoulder, you pulled one of the goats back from the trough by her back legs.

“Stop it, Frankie!” She bleated in response.  

“Was that a goat I just heard?”  

“No, it was Frankie— she’s worse than a goat. She’s, like, goat-fucking-three thousand— fuck! Hold on.” She placed the phone on a bucket, to stalk over to the problematic goat trying to fight her own sibling. “You’re pushing it. You are pushing it, Francine Miller!” Gripping the antlers that rose from her skull, you forced her to look at you. “This isn’t your food— that’s your food. Over there.”  

Picking her up, wrapping your arms around her stomach, you lifted her toward her own trough. That a few other goats huddled at to feast on their breakfast. “If I see you over there bothering your brothers again, I’m gon’ put you right back in that barn— don’t mess with me.”

You walked back to that bucket, picking up the small silver flip phone placed sloppily in the middle. “Sorry about that… But, yeah, sometime around six.” A tired sigh fell from your lips.  

“That southern drawl of yours… Getting stronger by the day.” She chuckled, in amusement. You heard her shuffling against cloth—perhaps, blankets and pillows.  

“The price of being around my family for too long.” You match her brief chuckle, twisting your toe into the dirt.  

“I’m certainly not complaining.” Abby commented, inhaling deeply. “Well, I’ll be there for six— unless you tell me otherwise…”  

“All right, sounds good, Abby.”  

“All right, bye, babe.”  

Babe.

The pet name made you freeze, but before you could say anything, she hung up the phone. You clenched you phone in your hand, gripping it tight enough for the blood to drain from your knuckles. Babe—since fucking when?  

A snicker caught your attention, causing you to swivel around on your toes. Her shiny, obsidian hair was tucked under a knit beanie. The medium-length blunt ends sticking out from the bottom, hanging over the shoulders of her jacket. A jacket that was sickeningly similar to one of Ellie’s—it most likely was.  

“Who’s this lucky girl… Abby?” She perked a slender eyebrow, brown eyes boring through you. Slightly squinting with taut features.  

You waved your hand before placing them on your hips. “A girl I met in the city. She’s up here with some friends— thought I’d invite her to dinner. She's the one who dropped me off the other night.” You explained, shrugging at your last word. After sleeping with her girlfriend, the least you could do was open with her.   

Cat leaned over the wooden fence, instead of coming inside. Her hands balling together in front of her body to keep her exposed skin warm. “Oh, really? What’s the status between the two of you? Since you’re… Inviting her to Thanksgiving dinner ‘n all?” She questioned, lips pressing together.  

There was something bitter in her speech that rubbed you the wrong way. But, nonetheless, you answered. “It’s complicated…” A laugh falls from your lips—fake and deceiving. “It’s been off and on for about a year— believe it or not.”  

“I believe it.” Cat chortled behind a fist. “Dating in New York is hard. People just don’t take relationships seriously anymore— I totally get it.” Her eyes rolled as she spoke, shiny lips curling at the corners.  

Awkwardly, you nod. Her tone alarming you once more. “Yeah… Well, I need to get back to this— the quicker this is over the better.”  

“Right…”  

“Are you planning on helping the parents cook, or…”  

She crossed her arms, lips frowning, slightly. “Yeah. Later, I’m helping Joel and Tommy with the steak. I’ve never really cooked steak before so… Wish me luck.” Cat chuckled, stepping back from the fence. “I’ll let you get back to work, though…” She began to walk off, after you waved, halfheartedly. Pausing in the well-kept grass, she looked over her shoulder. “Could you point me in the direction of my girlfriend? I’m sure you know where she is.”  

Hm.  

“Uh, yeah, sure— She’s either in the horse barn or the greenhouse… I would check the horse barn first.” You point towards the wooden paneled barn some meters away. My girlfriend. Did that not sound harsh? There was such diction in her proclamation for Ellie. It was an iron bar being burned into your chest, over your heart like a branding.  

She didn’t say much of a thank you, only a head nod and a wave. Leaving you standing in the same patch of mud you were standing in when she arrived. That interaction felt oddly tangy, rather than sweet—like usual. Of course, you had your doubts about Cat, but this time it felt different. So much different.

For another thirty minutes, you monitored Frankie and the other goats. Giving her a bunch of kisses to make up for your irate behavior—after all, she was behaving better; she deserved them!

Finishing your work, you didn’t realize until your stepped into the house—leaving your shoes on the porch—that Ellie didn’t call or text you about anything. She was supposed to meet you when she finished her side of the chores, but she never showed. It was too cold to wait around for her, so you trotted back to the house. And it’s not like you had her number; she had yours.  

In the back of your mind, you worried about the interaction she had with Cat. Why wouldn’t you? As the days went by, you were growing in possessiveness of someone that wasn’t even yours. She used to be, but that wouldn’t hold up in court.  

You noticed Maria working in the kitchen, working on small side dishes. Before you jogged up the stairs, you let her know that you’d be back after a warm shower. Cooking food while smelling like actual animal shit wasn’t a great mix.

Tommy had already put the television on the channel where the game was playing. The direct speech of sports anchors playing as background noise on the first floor--bouncing off the walls.  

When you walked up the stairs, you heard the soft tune of Joel strumming and tuning his new guitar from his bedroom. It soothed your ears—his playing always did. There was a song he used to play for you, and sometimes Ellie, when you were teenagers. Then, after while, she began to play it for you. Sat in the corner of your reading nook, in a t-shirt and plaid boxers (or whatever underwear she was wearing), strumming at the tough strings of her guitar. Looking into your eyes like you were unreal.

Everyone seemed to be doing something on this busy morning. And you were soon to jump right in.  

Steam opened your pores as you cleansed the dirt and grime off your skin. You attempted not to drown within your own thoughts while the showering. Echoes of your parents’ voices bounced around your mind, along with Joel’s. It was overwhelming. You feared they’d never forgive you if they found out what you and Ellie were doing—or had done. Then, there was Cat; a part of you felt bad for her. That she was getting caught in the middle of unfinished business… Clearly, your attempt at clearing your head didn’t work.  

Shutting off the shower, smelling like a happy mixture of vanilla and coconut, you wrapped yourself in a towel to walk to your bedroom. When you entered, you didn’t notice the frame of your estranged lover sitting on your bed—until you pivoted on damp feet. “Shit, Ellie… What the hell are you doing?” You gasp, clenching onto the material of the old beach towel you were using to dry off.  

Her back was facing you, eyes cast toward the paneled window of your reading nook. The auburn strands of her hair were damp, leaving marks on the shoulders and back of her grey sweatshirt.  

“She fucking knows…”  

Your eyebrows stitched together, trying to take in what the woman before you had said. Shutting your door with a sigh, you turn back around slowly. “What do you mean…?” Your voice trembled, wanting clarification even though you already knew what she meant. That hole that you dug was only getting deeper. Or, perhaps, not. It’s already reached max depth.

Ellie peered over her shoulder, the whites of her eyes unnerved. Freckled cheeks flushed to oblivion. “You PM’d me last night on MySpace…”  

“Yeah…?” You slowly approached her, shrugging your shoulders. Although, your heart was racing—beating throughout your entire body. If that was even possible.  

“When I got back to the guesthouse last night, I basically conked out, y/n.” Ellie told, finally shifting her body to see your stunned frame in its entirety. Water droplets dripping down your arms and legs; muscles tightening in anticipation.  

A hand shot over your mouth, eyebrows furrowing in remorse. If she went right to sleep, then someone else had been responding to you—and you don’t believe in ghosts. “Please, tell me you’re fucking with me.”  

She placed her head in her hands. “I wish I was…” Ellie bounced her leg, nervously. “Why the fuck would you mention anything that happened over the internet?” Her tone shifted, scolding you with the same pair of eyes that once caressed your skin with adoration.

“I had no other way to tell you about Joel. I was trying to warn you—“  

“Yeah, what a warning that was.”  

You scoff, crossing your arms. “Okay, hold on… How do you know about this? D— Did she confront you— or what?”  

She sighed. “She came and talked to me while I was grooming Sarah— Also, you forgot to mention that she doesn’t like to be brushed…!” Her round features were pulled taut, glaring at you.  

“I met her, like, once, Ellie. How would I know that she doesn’t like to be brushed?” You retorted, kicking out a leg, narrowing your eyes. “And… She’s a fucking baby. You should’ve expected that.”

“She said if I don’t admit what I did by tonight… She’s gonna fucking do it.”  

You bunched your eyebrows, shaking your head—utterly confused. “She’s gonna fucking do what? Wh— What is this, Ellie— fucking One Tree Hill?!” It was incredulous for Cat to make such a threat. Theatricals were never your choice of handling things. Hence the last time an explosive episode happened on the farm. You shut down and close off—it’s always too much!  

The auburn-haired woman’s feature slightly softened, looking up at you from her seated position.

Noticing the tensing in your body—seeing that face she swore she never wanted to see again. “Uhm, what did you say…?” You questioned, carefully with pinched lips and drifting eyes.  

“I said that I would…”  

Record scratch. Again. How many of those were you going to experience in a single week?

“Ellie—!”  

“To alleviate some of her frustration—!” She tried.

“I don’t give a fuck why you agreed to her stupid threat, Ellie— it’s the fact that you did!” You paced, squeezing the bridge of your nose. Thinking. Hard. Your voice had boomed, forgetting that the walls weren’t thick. “I will not have this random emo chick ruin the relationship I have with my parents… Because she wants to get back at you.”  

She leaned back on her hands, shrugging. “And you… She’s getting back at you, too.”  

“Seriously.” You snapped your head toward her, blinking with blossoming anger.  

“Dead serious.” Ellie held your eyes, courageously. She never liked seeing you angry, but boy, did it set her skin on fire. You were always so concerned with how people perceived you, that you avoided acting within your nature. Even though, in your truest nature, you were the most beautiful thing.  

You pointed a finger at her, strolling toward her. “Is this funny to you?”  

“Is there a smile on my face?” She retorted, looking up at you through her thick, batting lashes.

“You look amused—“  

“I am.” She simply stated, causing you to raise an eyebrow. “Because you’ve never changed, y/n. It’s always appearances with you— for everything.” You rolled your eyes at that, scoffing under your breath. What did she know? “Little-miss-perfect… Always has to do the right thing— not because she wants to, but because she wants others to notice that she does.”

Her words sounded familiar. More put together, but familiar.  

“It’s fucking pathetic, babe—“

“Get hell the out of my room.” The words came from you like a whisper with pinched lips, clenching your fists at your sides. Her and her name-calling.

Ellie stood up, chest nearly touching the towel that wrapped around you. Chest to chest. “Can you think about us for one second?” Her fingers tethered to your bare skin, dancing up your arms. “Cat’s makin’ our karma come quick— embarrassing us in front of our family. And, yeah, we did a fucked-up thing. I can admit and make peace with that because I wanna be with you.” She squeezed your shoulders, examining your tight features. Ellie reached her hand to grace your cheek, but you turned away.  

A sigh fell from her lips, pulling away from your body. “And all you can think about is your parents… What they would think?” Ellie scoffed, running her hand through her damp strands. “You’re an adult—! And you, certainly, made an adult decision to fuck me the other night— so this is your fault as much as it is mine.” She lectured. Ellie Williams was lecturing you. Oh, how the tables turn.

“Fucking stand in it.” The artist grit, pointing her finger to the ground. “That’s you’re fuckin’ problem. Always wanting to be perfect— but you’re not! Not even close.”

Tears began to build in the corner of your eyes, lips quivering at her words. Heart wrenching at her stern tone. “And I fucking love you for it…” Ellie appeared dejected, gliding toward your door. Adhering to the command you gave her: Get out. “But if your parents’ opinion weigh heavier… Fine.”  

A beat meandered through the room, while Ellie’s hand hovered over the handle.

“I realized… After Cat found me in the barn that…” She chewed on her lip. “I’m not ashamed of what we did— which is why I don’t mind telling the truth. It may be a threat for her but… it’s a release for me.”

A sob shockingly came from your throat, plopping onto your reading nook. The strength of your neck unable to hold up your head—it dropped into your hands to cover your face. “Please,” Your breath hitched, peeking through your fingers. “Ellie, please, don’t say anything. Don’t ruin tonight over something…Something fickle.”  

Fickle?

She deepened her eyebrows in offense before pulling open the door. “I’m telling them whether you like it or not. Shape up or ship the fuck out.” Ellie pushed through the door, making sure to shut it light enough not to cause a stir, but heavy enough to unsettle you further.  

To Ellie’s core, she was a pusher; a person who liked to push others—for better or for worse. Just depended on the day, and the person. Now, in her past, she’s made the mistake of pushing you into a worser version of yourself. And she almost did it again, but she revised her actions efficiently. She corrected it. Switched it around like a puzzle-piece placed in the wrong spot.  

You needed to learn how to stand in your decision—good or bad—and not cowering within them. There’s no point in begging for a person’s forgiveness once you’ve done something wrong. Accountability and apologies are all a person has. And your parents—pssh; you shouldn’t be worrying about that so much.  

Tommy and Maria loved you more than life itself, and Ellie understood why because she did, too.  

There was nothing you could do to scarlet letter your persona. Absolutely nothing.  

Even after titling the love you and Ellie embraced fickle; she could never turn her face from you— not for long anyway.  

Dragging her feet down the hall, old converse sliding against the wood, eyes watering with warm tears in the corner of her eyes; a door creaked open. An aged pair of brown eyes, pushing though the slot. “Everything all right, kiddo…?”

Slowly, she turned her head to look at him. Olive eyes attempting to blink back tears at the sound of his softened, gravelly voice. Sniffling, her legs carried her toward him, wrapping her arms around his soft abdomen, tucking her head into his chest.  

Nothing came from her but soft, stressed cries. Fingers clenching onto the fabric of his flannel behind his back.

As much as this situation was a lot for you, it was a lot for her as well—just in a different way, for a different reason.

In your room, you were still on that reading nook in your towel. Your body was was dry, so the old cloth scratched and tickled your skin. It was deserving for you to be uncomfortable. Ellie was right; you were a little pathetic—for lack of better word.  

You spent so much time wanting to fix yourself. Be the best version of yourself. And that wasn’t Tommy or Maria’s fault, it was your own. When you were first adopted, sent to a new school, you had a full out meltdown. Some kid had been picking on you for being quiet, and you escalated the situation to a place that it didn’t need to go. As in: using your fists to defend yourself. From then, you were thrown into therapy and had to relearn that fighting wasn’t the answer. Maria aided that by drilling into your head that violence was something that could get you into trouble.  

So, how did the way people perceived you become such a focus? Well, Maria’s scoldings of your behavior translated in your head—along with trauma of past foster homes and neglectful parents—that what people saw of you mattered more than your own conclusions. They thought, therefore you were.  

You failed to fact-check. You failed to have a personal understanding of your own behavior. It was rare for you to make peace with your own actions—good or bad. You were always stuck on what a person would think of you; especially, your parent’s. Perhaps, there was still a part of you that felt you needed to prove that you worth caring for. Worth supporting. 

That pressure continues and continues and continues to shove your head underwater no matter how many times your flail and beg for air.  

It was obnoxious. It is obnoxious. You’re obnoxious.  

Love isn’t conditional. It’s a feeling that tethers people to one another despite anything. Despite flaws and self-guilts—it perseveres. That concept shouldn’t be difficult to grasp because, after all Ellie had said on that one unfaithful afternoon, you still loved her. You loved her at seventeen, and you love her at twenty-five. Nothing has changed. Nothing will change.  

And the same applied for your parents to you.  

It was fucking physics and you were a prodigal humanities student who looked at STEM in contempt.

Solemnly, you dressed into a pair of comfy clothes. Attempting to replace the frown that stuck to your lips, although your body was already weakened from your emotions. Surprisingly, a cigarette couldn’t cure your overthinking mind—not this time. There was no point in pulling from one.  

After squeezing eye drops into your eyes to eliminate the irritated veins in your sclera’s, you stomped down the wooden stairs. When your mother noticed you, she smiled. Her sparkling white teeth glimmering in your eyes—warm and kind. “Ellie and Joel are gonna be baking the pie at the guesthouse… So, the kitchen is ours.” Maria chuckled to herself, kneading the dough for her legendary biscuits.  

“I know how much you hate overcrowded kitchens…” You respond, grabbing the apron with your nickname stitched on the front—Bug. She did a double take, looking from the dough in her hands. Noticing that unfortunate look on your face, and that blandness in your tone.  

Maria sighed, setting the dough aside, leaning her flour covered hands against the counter. “Not you, too… What the hell is in the air today?” She shook her head, averting her eyes to you with intensity. “What’s goin’ on with you— Ellie had just come down here with that same look on her face.”  

“What look?”  

“That look.”  

You pressed your lips into a line, looking around in thought. It was easier to lie and say something unrelated but that was fruitless idea. So, you said nothing, walking over to the cornbread she left out to begin working on the stuffing.  

Raising an eyebrow, she followed you with her icy irises. She then called you your full name, which sent chills down you spine.

You sucked your teeth, meeting her stern eyes. “Ellie and I had sex…” You mutter, peering down to your shaking hands.  

“What…?”  

It was difficult to say aloud to your mother, but that the rest came behind swiftly. “And Cat found out because I had a run-in with Joel— he heard, and I wanted to let Ellie know… So, I private messaged her on MySpace, but turns out, she wasn’t the one responding to me; Cat was.” You puffed air from your lips. “This morning, she came by to ask where Ellie was, so I told her she was in the horse barn. Come to find out, she confronted her, threatening to air all of our shit out to you and dad and Joel as a consequence.”

“Tommy, get in here.” She asserted to her husband focused on the television, keeping her wide eyes on you.

Another sigh came from you, watching as your father navigated into the kitchen. “After my shower, Ellie was in my room and that’s when she told me. We got into it a little bit… Uhm, because she told me that she was gonna tell y’all that we slept together and that pissed me off— because why would she do that?” You scoff, not noticing the glances your father was making to your mother as you unloaded this heavily detailed bundle of information. “How could she be so quick to admit that we had sex to our family that has known us since we were children? That we committed fucking adultery while her girlfriend was only, like, ten meters away—“  

“Honey,” Tommy tried, but you held up a finger.  

“Let me finish.” Your eyes welled with tears, looking at your fathers aging features. “I couldn’t understand how she was so okay with it, but, now, I do. I think I do…” You glance between the two people hovering around you. “The only reason why I came up with the idea— yeah, I’m the one who came up with it… To hookup. Sue me— was because I wanted to see if what was happening between us was real. And it fucking was!”  

“I know what we did was wrong. I knew it was wrong when I decided to go through with it… I begged Ellie not to say anything— which is ironic considering I’m the one talkin’.” You chuckled, wiping a warm tear that slipped from your eyes. “I was afraid of what you guys would think of me. That you wouldn’t love me anymore because of what I did— because you didn’t raise a liar…” Pausing, you released a shaky breath. “Verbatim: she told me to shape up… Or ship the fuck out. I chose the latter because… You didn’t raise a coward either.”  

They blinked at you.  

“I love Ellie. I really do, and yeah, we should’ve gone about this differently— but we didn’t. And I’m sorry.” Curtly, you nodded your head, adjusting your shoulder to stand up straighter. “I’m so grateful that you guys are my parents— you chose to be here and support me. The least I can do is be honest with you. Even if that results in your disappointment.”  

The tears had dried up in your eyes sometime amid your ramble of humility. Confidence growing with every word that you spoke. Ellie’s words rang through your skull about your consistent jig of morality. Fuckup’s don’t make you nor should they break you.  

Shit happens!

Their quietness made you tremble out of that shell of confidence you manifested, making you breathe a little heavier and feel a little more uncomfortable within your skin. You watched as they looked at each other. Maria sporting a mixture of concern and disappointment on her features—more disappointment than concern. And, Tommy, the complete opposite.  

“You know, what? I’ll let you two… Sit on this.” You walk past them, toward the fridge. In the door, there was both glass bottles and cans of beer—Miller Lite and Heineken. You grabbed the green glass bottle by the neck, “I’m gonna have a beer…” Walking toward the back door with horse barn on your mind.  

It was like a weight lifted off your shoulders after you confessed. Being honest with your thoughts about the whole situation made you feel lighter—feather allowing the wind to guide her, type of light. It was freeing to stand in her truth.

The cool breeze of autumn bit at your exposed arms, and the sliver of skin between the hem of your top and the hip line of your sweats. But because you were riding on the high of your confession, you didn’t feel the chill. You never were much of a beer person—it never made sense for you to drink. Yeast was never your thing, but after your confession, you had a craving for it. The beer, not so much the yeast. You overcame something big—you cried yourself into a new you. A better you.

And not that surface-better person you were trying or pretending to be.  

When you arrived at the barn, you didn’t forget to pet the grazing horses near you before entering. Remnants of Ellie’s work lingered around, but there was no sight of her. Perhaps, it was for the best. Reaching for one of the bridles hanging on an iron hook, you used the belt to pluck off the tin cap that topped the bottle.  

Settling in scattered hay, you plopped onto the ground, taking a large sip. Gritting your teeth at the flavor—still, wasn’t much of a fan. Although, she lingered close to her mother, Sarah began to drift toward you. Curiosity ruling her developing brain. You reached out to her, scratching the short tufts of her blonde hair.  

She leaned into your hand, huffing air from her nostrils. It made you smile, her comfortability with you after knowing her for such a short time. “Oh, Sarah…” You sighed, wistfully.  

From behind her, in the distance, you see your mother’s figure approaching you. You take in a nervous breath, preparing for her, potentially, harsh words.  

Maria’s boots crunched along the sprawled hay, taking her time to sit beside you. Leaning her against the same wooden wall you did. She ran her hand through her short blonde hair, sighing as her shorter pieces of her hair fell right back into place. “If…” She began, thoughtfully. “I’ve ever given you a reason to think that I— we could ever stop loving you, y/n; that was my mistake. I wanna start there. Out of everything that you said in there… That’s what disappointed me most.”  

Your eyes flicker to hers, briefly. Sarah had retreated back towards her mother. “Yeah, I must admit… I don’t wanna see my daughter, my kid, doing something worth regretting— no parent wants to see that.” She shook her head, glancing back at the horses. “And, yes, I am disappointed that you did something of this nature… But I know your heart, honey.” Maria reached her hand to your bent knee, caressing with her thumb.  

The heat in your cheeks and eyes increased with emotion. “I’ll never forget that look on your face when we surprised you with those papers.” She smiled at the memory, and you leaned into her as if it were muscle memory. “You were… Relieved. And, from that day forward, Tommy and I promised to do right by you. To love you how you deserved to be loved— to prove that you deserved to be loved despite what the world had already managed to convince you.”  

You wrapped your hand around the one on your knee while tears dripped from the corners of your eyes. “You think something like this would change my mind?” She looked down at you leaning her shoulder.  

“Yeah… I guess…” You insecurely blinked at her. Feeling like the very thirteen-year-old she was referencing.  

The blonde woman shook her head, placing a hand on your cooling cheek. “Well, that’s the farthest from the truth, Bug.” Her lips plotted against your forehead, comfortingly. “Your father and I will love you until we’re cold in the ground—“  

“Mom, don’t say that.” You whined, sniffling.  

“Probably, beyond that—“  

“Mom!”  

She snickered, peeling the beer from your fingers, and taking a sip for herself. “I don’t know how they tolerate this stuff.” Maria grimaced, shaking her head, setting it aside. “So… What’s the course of action now that everybody knows this big secret?”  

You pull from her, leaning your head against the wall. “I don’t know…” You sighed, shutting your eyes. “Ellie is pissed at me—“  

“For…?” She perked a slender eyebrow.  

“Because… I called our situation fickle to get her to not say anything, but clearly, that didn’t work.” You shook your head. “I guess, I’m the impulsive one now.”  

Maria hummed. “Looks like you have a lot to clear up.”  

You inhaled, peering at her. “Looks like it.” With another breathy sigh, you shook your head.

“Fuck, and Cat.” You slapped your hand against your forehead.

“Ah. You know, she has every right to be upset?”  

“Of course, I do. But, to be fair…”  

“Nope—“  

“Ellie came up here to get away from her— that’s what she told me!”  

Your mother scolded you, calling you by your full name—because that was her super power. But, you ignored her, sitting up straight to prove your point. “She was living in the biggest, most creative city in the world and felt crowded? How does that make sense?”  

She scoffed, rolling her eyes. “Maybe… Maybe this is what they needed.” You shrugged.  

Maria stood to her feet, offering you a hand. “Let’s not get caught up in the little details— you have some apologizing to do.”  

“Ugh! I know, I know…” You took her hand, hopping to your feet. She bent down, picking up the beer bottle by the throat.

“But before that, you need to cover up those arms, and get to work in that kitchen— because, we have guests.” As your mother ushered you back into the house, you dragged your slippers against the ground, finding your way back inside the house with a newfound comfort.

Almost an hour earlier, the guesthouse was bluntly silent. Nothing but the slight huffing of Joel kneading dough and the crunching of breadcrumbs from Ellie. There wasn’t much conversation; only the actions of their priorities fr dinner. Cat had locked herself in the bedroom, probably, plotting her next attack.

Joel made a point to keep his eyes on Ellie—and Cat—to make sure nothing crazy happened. Cheating situations made people a little tense at times.  

“So… Ellie, what song are you planning on playin’ tonight?” He tried, beginning to roll out the dough; flat to place in the round tin pan.  

She sighed, glancing at him with a dismissive glare. “I’m not playin’ tonight…”  

“Come on, it’s tradition—“  

“Fuck, tradition! I’m not doing it. Can we move on?”  

He huffed, placing the wooden roller on the floured counter. “I think you need to cut her some slack, kiddo. She didn’t mean to—“  

“I don’t care what she meant—“  

“Can you let me finish?” He raised an eyebrow, pointing an index finger that was caked with white flour. Ellie bunched her lips together, rolling her eyes. “Now, Ellie, I know you’re upset with y/n, with how the situation panned out— I get it. But don’t let your frustration cloud your judgement.” He told. “I spoke to her long before you did. I don’t believe for a second that she truly thinks that your relationship is fickle.”  

He inhaled, scratching the back of his neck. “Sometimes we say things that we don’t mean— I’m sure you know about that.”  

She ran her tongue over her lips, tapping her foot against the floor. Thinking back to a few years ago when she exploded on Joel and you. Ellie was good for that—saying things she didn’t mean. “I mean, I’ve said a few things to Tommy in my day.”  

“Joel…” She shook her head. “I don’t even know if it’s that alone— I…” Ellie struggled to verbalize, gesticulating with her hands and fingers as words attempted to materialize behind her teeth. “She’s always choosing her parents over me— over everything and everyone. Really, it’s doing her a disservice—“  

The artist began to rant like her life depended on it. Of course, in a low enough tone where her girlfriend in the other room couldn’t hear. Joel just watched a listened, as her features contorted with annoyance. But, within her big, earthy eyes, Ellie told on herself. Her claims didn’t come from hatred, or even contempt—it came from her adoration of you.  

In the corner of the room, relied the piece she’s been working on since the day of her arrival, or rather, the night of. It was no longer covered with a white, paint-stained sheet. Her work had been exposed to the light due to a quick argument between her and Cat before Joel came to save the day. It was a colored-in image of you in front of that old shed. A joint rested between your index and middle finger with a look of relaxation was on your smoothly stroked features. Ellie made sure to depict you in your most comfortable state.  

If only he could see her sketch book.  

“Ellie, you have to break up with her.”  

She paused, mid-sentence. “What?”  

“Matter of fact, you need to break up with Cat— now.”

Uncomfortably, she shifted on her bare feet. “But… The pie…”  

He chortled, averting his eyes to the art piece at the corner of the room. “Priorities, Ellie. Priorities.” Joel leaned his hip against the marble counter. “Go in there, break up with her— as kindly as you can. Then, offer to drive her to the train station. If she declines, insist. If you go now, you should make it back before dinner. You know Maria will have a cow if you’re late.”

Briefly, she thought to herself. Ellie was never the type to be afraid of confrontation—she may have hesitated a few times… But she was never afraid. She never expected her actions to be thrown into her face so quickly, though. The memory of Cat approaching Ellie in that barn sent chills down her spine, because she had an inkling that something was wrong the minute she had appeared. Her dark brown eyes were squinty and boring through her as she approached. At first, Ellie didn’t notice Cat’s slender frame walking up to her—as she were hyper-focused on tending to the small, blonde-haired foal.

They have been together for nearly a year, so of course, the freckled artist knew when she was truly upset. Cat was a woman of subtly, despite her tattoos and silver piercings. Her anger pressed through with an even tone, and a stiff posture; rather than, expression through loud voices and firm fist curls. They are polar opposites in that way. That is what originally attracted Ellie to her—but in that moment, she shivered.

It was like whiplash, comparing how she woke up to how she appeared in front of Ellie in that moment. Making her wonder, if that happy act was all lie? It most certainly was.

Cat somehow surpassed a level of straightforwardness that Ellie was comfortable with, telling her exactly how it was: Why she made breakfast for her this morning, the MySpace conversation (why she pretended to be her), her certainty of her infidelity, and the official threat that set everything off the rails. Easily, her intention was to embarrass Ellie and you. She sensed the timidness that you hid behind and wanted to use it against you. She assumed, based off the history between you and Ellie, that the only way for Ellie to be affected is to make an example of you. However, she imagined that it would be more difficult for her girlfriend to confess her actions first.

You weren’t particularly obvious with what happened between the two of you, but she would have to be stupid to not assume that it was a sexual thing. But when Cat approached Ellie with the statement: You told me you were going on a run. She didn’t expect to be met with immediate truth. Her olive eyes had grown wide for only a second, before words began to just flood from her like an open dam. Ellie couldn’t stop herself.

Perhaps, it was the complaints of you echoing in her head. Your fervent concerns about going back to Cat—it made her feel guilty; so, she confessed as if she were bribed to tell the truth and was content with the consequences. All the while, brushing the soft, blunt hairs of Sarah.

Ellie assumed that was why Cat made a threat to support her dominance. That made her hesitate a bit—admitting to her family that her and an old flame, that ended horribly in their teenagerhood, had secret sex in the middle of the night? Despite having a girlfriend—who could ever do such a thing?

Apparently, Ellie.

Straightening her shoulders, she didn’t back down, though. She took full accountability for her behavior, claiming that she would be the one to tell them what she did—although, she did find that to be dramatic. It wasn’t until Ellie was checking off the chores list in the garden, when she realized her fate had a drastic connection to you.

You weren’t the type to stand tall in defeat or mistake. When the things you did wrong were brought to you, you quivered and coward away because it made you feel more than you preferred. Faulty. It made you want to sequester—the total opposite of Ellie.

She could never forget how you hid away after the fight on her seventeenth birthday. You didn’t go to school for a week. Ellie offered to bring you schoolwork, like the waving of a white flag, but you declined—or, rather, your parents declined. One of your academic friends made visits to the farm every day to give you the missing work. For a moment, after not hearing from you, Ellie thought you moved abroad or something. You were the closest thing to a true hermit.

That worried her because this is the last thing you’d ever want to admit, and it was Ellie’s fault. She may not have felt a lick of regret for loving on you like she used to, but she felt bad for putting you in a situation you couldn’t seamlessly get out of. It was a nightmare to see you flail, but the only way out is through. Ellie learned that a long time ago. Maybe, it was your turn to reassess that motto.

The only way out is through.

So, Ellie made her way to the bedroom they shared, knocking before she entered.

Cat had her back propped up against the wooden headboard; a pair of headphones covering her pierced ears as she typed on her own computer. Her bags were packed and ready in the corner of the room—that’s what she spent her time doing this morning… Packing her bags. When she wasn’t issuing theatrical threats. That’s already one concern out the window. She was ready to ship out. When she noticed Ellie, her soft features fell.

“You’re already packed…” She acknowledged, rocking on her bare feet. Cat removed her headphones with a sigh. “Let me take you to the train station—”

“Before you tell your family that you boldly cheated on your girlfriend? I don’t think so.” She dismissed, tilting her head to the side. “If this is your way of getting out of—”

Ellie groaned, slapping her hands against her thighs. “I’m not trying to get out of anything, Cat. I just don’t want you paying a fucking grand to get back into the city.”

“What do you care?” Cat challenged, setting her laptop aside. “Hm? You told me that I had nothing to worry about. That’s what you said… Turns out that was a stupid fucking lie.” She ground out, pressing her lips into a disappointed line. A cruel laugh came from her, while she shook her head in disbelief. “And now, you’re saying you care about how much I’m spending to get back home? Are you fucking with me?”

“I’m not. It’s the least I could do—”

“No… The least you could’ve done was not fuck y/n—that’s the least you could’ve done.” The scorned woman argued, meeting her eyes with intensity. “I’m not going anywhere until I see the looks on Mr. and Mrs. Miller’s faces when they find out what the two of you did— I have a feeling it’ll be memorable.”

The freckled artist found her attitude to be draining, even if it was sensical for her side of things. Her fingers rubbed between her eyebrows. A raspy sigh fleeing from her throat. “Look, I get you’re upset, Cat. But dontcha’ think you’re doing, I don’t know, too much?”

“You think this is too much?”

“Uh, yeah, I do. I said I’d tell ‘em what happened— that should be enough for you.”

Scoffing, she threw her legs over the mattress. “You expect me to believe the woman who cheated on me? How didn’t I know you were this idiotic before?” Cat scoffed, dryly.

She deepened her eyebrows at the insult, gritting her teeth. “You know, what? I’ve been really struggling to keep my mouth shut… But, clearly, there’s no point.” Ellie huffed, blinking her eyes. Perhaps, it was time for her to know the truth on why Ellie wanted to go home for a while. Her stiff words got Cat’s attention, causing her to narrow her dark eyes. “That whole thing about me having a hard time in the city with my art— yeah, that was because of you, not because of fucking Brooklyn.” The woman admitted, releasing the tension in her shoulders. “Truth is, your endless support did nothing but drag out my lack of inspiration—you made it worse! What I needed was to get out of that goddamn apartment, not get out of the city.” She continued, pacing around the room. “From the moment I saw her… Inspiration fucking flooded my psyche— all I could see was her. Her face. Her voice. Her body. She did more for me in second than you ever did for me in the year we’ve been together.”

She ran a hand through her hair, scoffing. A boyish smirk spreading onto her plush lips. “Who’s the fuckin’ idiot now?” Ellie muttered, flickering her earthy eyes toward her shocked expression.

A beat plotted in the environment, feasting on the spreading tension in the room.

That was mean; she matched her cruelty and then some. Ellie shouldn’t have, but she was only human. A human who just made her girlfriend—sorry, ex-girlfriend—cry. Her thin eyebrows pushed into a harsh furrow, tears streaming shown her flushed, hot cheeks. Her fingers danced in front of lips, trying to keep her sorrowful whines from being heard. It wasn’t working. Cat cried like a hurt dog, stuffing her face in her hands at Ellie’s restriction of consolation.

With crossed arms, Ellie looked down at from across the room. Family was one of the most important things to her. Despite her youthful, abrasive attitude, Joel decided to contractually tie himself to her—her adoption. But, even before then, she’s been a divine part of the Miller family. They meant a whole lot to her, you, more so. The fact that she was so willing to draw a wedge between the lot of you… Frankly, it disgusted her. It was repulsive.

“You have every right to be upset. I can’t take that from you.” She let up, lifting her eyebrows. “If anything… What I do regret is pulling you along this far out of convenience. To be honest—”

“Haven’t you been honest enough? Fuck, Ellie.” Cat blurted, peeking over her shoulder.

Her feelings might have been hurt; a simmering flame awaiting the impulsive pressure of Ellie’s old converse. The auburn-haired woman sighed, taking a seat on the bed. Away from Cat, not only to convey her sincerity in her processing words, but to respect Cat’s wired emotions. “I’ve kept enough from you, kitty Cat. My honesty is my apology…” Ellie casted her down-to-earth irises to the side of Cat’s face. When she turned to meet Ellie’s eyes, her smudged eyeliner and mascara became a spectacle. “And my good-bye…”

Cat scoffed in pure offense. “You do not get to break-up with me when you’re the one who fucked up.”

“Well, if you wanna be the one to call it… Then, feel free.”

“No!” She grit her teeth, more tears dripping from the corners of her eyes. “I don’t want to break up with you…” Her lips quivered.

Ellie chortled, leaning her palm into the mattress. “Uhm, one of us is gonna have to do the breaking, Cat.”

They apparently have walked themselves into an impasse. To make a decision, or to not make a decision—that was the question. The response, the answer, was far simpler than Cat was making it, though.

Sighing, the freckled artist looked to the side. Ellie could use this to her advantage—getting her on that train back to the city. “You don’t have to right now…” She began to offer. “How about you mull it over on the way to the train station? I still don’t mind driving you there.” Her fingers fiddled with themselves, hoping she’d finally accept her invitation to leave.

She looked at her frowning, blinking away her tears. “Fine…” Cat stood to her feet, wiping her makeup-stained cheeks with the backs of her hand. “Why don’t you be a doll and bring my bags to the truck. It’s the least you could do.” Before Ellie could respond, she walked into bathroom and locked herself behind the door.

Releasing a long breath of relief, Ellie got up from the bed. As silently as possible, she pumped her fists into the air. Cat was leaving with only a little bit of resistance. That whole dramatic scene she was hoping for wasn’t happening—thank God!

Ellie stuffed her feet into her sneakers, before grabbing her rolling luggage and bag, hoisting the large purse over her shoulder. She left the bedroom, eyeing Joel on her way out. He was covered in flour and sugar, like the chef that he aspired to be. She gave him a thumbs up on the way out the door, snickering to herself.

Joel clapped his hands, forgetting about the flour stuck to his hands. It puffed into the air and down his throat, causing him to obnoxiously cough—away from the food developing in front of him. “Goddamn,”

Ellie peeked her head inside, pushing the luggage to the side on the small wooden porch. “Please, survive until I get back. Wouldn’t want another tragedy on Thanksgiving.”

“Oh, shut it, Ellie.”

She snickered again; her mood instantly heightened. However, as she maneuvered off the porch, her eyes caught sight of you and your mother. Maria’s arms were around you, guiding you toward the house. You didn’t have a jacket on and sported a pair of slippers—you weren’t dressed for the brisk afternoon air, dragging your feet against the ground. Ellie had stopped in her tracks. Shoes crunching on bumpy gravel. She couldn’t help but wonder what led you out the house. Was it her? Did she unnerve you so bad that you ran away from the warmth of the house?

Also, did you mean what you said when you used fickle as a description of your relationship with Ellie? Boy, did she have so many questions. This ball was filled with kinetic energy, rolling as it should have. She was just going to have to keep the momentum of its roll. For how long? The inspired artist didn’t know—but what she did know, was that she had a woman to make hers again.

This time, in a sustainable way, instead of a chaotic one.

taglist: @autisticintr0vert , @liasxeatt , @hopingforgoodblogs , @lia-winther , @macaroni676 , @tobiotruther , @anewkindofloove , @fatbootymuncher , @maiaska , @culuvr , @0phantom0 , @onlinelesbo , @bbnbhm , @lovelaymedown , @lamorenita , @scatapple , @elliewilliamsblunt , @goddessofchaosss , @mikellie , @emmanetalias , @sevyscoven , @lluvbk

[meazalykov]

don't blame the baby

parent!alexia putellas x wife!parent!reader (requested)

summary: what happens when the team sees an unfamiliar side to alexia?

you’re sitting on the couch, phone propped up against the cushion as you chat away on facetime. 

the screen is crowded with the smiling faces of the barcelona team, alexia’s teammates all laughing and sharing stories, their voices filling the room with energy. you’re enjoying catching up with them, teasing each other like old friends, when you hear soft breathing beside you—your eighteen month old daughter, isla, sound asleep, her tiny hand resting against your leg. 

you gently smooth down her hair as you continue chatting, not wanting to wake her.

that’s when you hear the familiar sound of footsteps approaching, and your eyes flick up to see alexia coming into the room. your wife hasn’t realized you're on facetime. with her hair slightly tousled from training and her eyes tired but full of warmth, she walks over, making a beeline for you. 

she drops onto the couch next to you, completely focused on you, not the phone. “my love,” she says in catalan, voice softening into the baby-like tone she only uses when she’s around you or isla. “i missed you so much today baby... i just want to cuddle up with you.”

you try to keep a straight face, but it’s too late—the entire team on the screen has gone silent, eyes wide with surprise, before bursting into laughter. 

the noise causes alexia to jump back a bit, finally noticing the phone and the faces staring back at her. 

“was that... alexia?!!” vicky teases, holding her stomach from laughing so hard, while kika shakes her head in disbelief. 

“i’ve never seen her like this! we need to get this side of her on the field, y/n do you think you could play as a striker so alexia can soften up!” mapi jokes, still giggling.

alexia’s cheeks flush a deep red, realizing they heard everything. 

“no, no, no, shut it! it wasn’t me,” she says quickly, trying to save face. she glances at you and then at isla, who's still peacefully asleep next to you, completely unaware of the chaos her mother’s causing. 

“it was... it was isla!” alexia points at the baby, desperately trying to convince her teammates. 

“she has the same voice as me, right? that was totally her!”

you let out a laugh, shaking your head. 

“don’t blame it on the baby,” you say, giving her a playful nudge. 

“she’s sleeping like an angel, and you know it.” alexia groans, burying her face in her hands as the teasing continues on the other side of the screen. 

isla, cuddled up with her ivory soft blanket and a miffy plushie, smiles in her sleep at this moment. alexia tries not to laugh, wondering if her daughter could hear everything in her sleep. 

“you’re so soft, ale,” martina says between fits of laughter, while esmee adds, “who knew our captain could be this clingy?”

alexia turns to you, eyes pleading, mouthing, “please help me,” but you can’t help the smirk on your face. 

“hey, it’s okay to be soft sometimes,” you tease. “besides, i think they kind of like this side of you.”

alexia shakes her head, leaning closer to you as if to hide from the call. 

“they’ll never let this go,” she mutters, sneaking a glance back at the screen, where her teammates are still cracking up. 

“amor, please, just tell them it was the baby, please?” she whispers, giving you that look that always makes your heart melt.

but you’re too busy enjoying her squirm, shrugging as if you’re not sure how to help. 

“sorry, but they seem to know the truth.” you lean your head against her shoulder, whispering, 

“besides, they’re right—you’re kinda cute when you’re clingy.”

alexia lets out a defeated sigh, covering her face with her hands. “maybe they’ll forget,” she says, voice muffled and full of hope. 

by the way the team is laughing, you both know this is something they’ll be teasing her about for a long, long time.

masterlist

[ozzgin]

Aye, this is kinda random but what if we rent a room and (surprisingly not) the room is infested by the spiders and the landlord is some kind of werespider or a spider ruler 💥💥💥

Spider Hybrid Horde x Reader

Content: gender neutral reader, NSFW, prompt: Mommy’s Little Monsters

Little heathens, blasphemous crreatures! Nasty vermin, every single one They want your blood, they need to feed And now Mother has brought them a treat

"That's a lot of webs", you groan to yourself, placing down your luggage.

A cheap room's a cheap room. No point in complaining about it now. You wander around, inspecting the dusty furniture and glancing out the window. You’d expected more people around, given everything else was booked out. Yet the paths are empty, save for the overgrown vegetation.

Even the lobby was devoid of any other human. You were instructed to pick up your key and find your room by yourself. Your only encounter was spiders, hanging from every corner and crawling in and out of the multiple cracks decorating the washed out walls.

You stretch your arms out and lazily throw your clothes on the bed, then walk towards the bathroom. Maybe some hot water will wash down your discomfort. The faucet turns with a rusty creak.

Suddenly, a horrendous shadow looms above you, twisting and bending over the shower curtain. There's a smacking sound, and the silhouette vanishes as quickly as it came.

"Not now, you varmint!" Mother scolds. "You're going to scare the human, and I won't find a better one."

The intruder scurries back to the group, lowering his head apologetically. His brothers continue gawking at your oblivious form, fat droplets of drool hitting the tile.

"Soon, soon", Mother coos. "Then you can do whatever you please."

Look at her boys, all grown up, ready to mate and breed. It’s about time she becomes a proper Grandmother.

The spider hybrids clack their arthropod appendages in excitement. Who gets to use you first? There’s a lot to consider, you see. They can’t tire you out too much, not until everyone’s had their chance to fill you. How do humans sound when they’re being fucked relentlessly? They’re about to find out.

[Navigation] | [Ozztober Masterlist]

[allpiesforourown]

I love the idea of the Washer Woman being the sensible adult in Binghe's life in the Demon Prince Binghe Au. I can see Tianlang reading him romance novels as a kid while Su Xiyan chooses books on cultivation and how to crush ones enemies. Washer woman has lectured them both on child appropriate practices more than once, Tianglang more than Su Xiyan.

Imagine young Binghe getting cursed as a puppy one day and wandering off, tired, hungry, and injured only to be rescued Qing Jing Peak Disciple Shen Yuan who nurses him back to health . Washer woman ends up being the one to retrieve the prince since she's human and not considered to be a traitor like Su Xiyan.

Afterwards, Binghe can't stop gushing about his fateful meeting with the beautiful shimei he met (Shen Yuan was so pretty he thought he was girl).

Tianlang: That's my son, not even ten and he's already found his future wife! Not only that, but a cultivator to boot! But wait, the Cang Qiong Mountain Sect despise demons and would never permit one of their own to court a demon which their love would be forbidden! Ahh this just like the plot of Love Amongst Thorns where the heroine ends riding into battle on a dragon and then diving into a volcano to save her lover, the enemy general!

Xiyan: If she is a cultivator like you say, you'll have to become strong enough to defeat the peak lords Cang Qiong Mountain sect, for they will not let her go without a fight. Of course, it's a war they want, it's a war they'll get.

Unamed Washer Woman:....

Unamed Washer Woman: Or you can just thank her for taking care of your "dog" and get to know her as friends.

BONUS: I just picture Shen Yuan being the equivalent of a Disney Princess in this AU but being completely oblivious to it. Except instead of cute woodland creatures, various monsters and other creatures are drawn to him. He is also confused as to why so many people are surprised he's a guy

NDJDHB YEAH. she's the only sense of reason

Binghe: how do I tell someone I like him..

Tlj: beg him for money and become his sugar baby. That's how I got your mother

Su xiyan: show him your strength and he won't be able to resist you

Washerwoman: how about we try something like flowers first :)

Personally I was imagining shen yuan as some wandering cultivator. Binghe's hanging out in a forest when some demon planning to kidnap the prince shows up and is immediately beaten up by the handsome man who was passing through.

Binghe: PLEASE COME HOME AND MEET MY PARENTS

Shen yuan: aww if you insist..

Shen yuan is a bit nervous but overall glad the demon prince protagonist doesn't seem to hate him. Binghe is ecstatic the nice man agreed to have a meeting with his parents to discuss marriage ..

Shen yuan actually gets hired to be binghes tutor. Binghe needs to work on his human cultivation as well as his demonic cultivation, and while su xiyan would be happy to be her sons shizun, she's getting so damn annoyed with binghe bringing shen yuan up every two seconds

[kiwiikato]

mommy’s here // ken sato x reader

Chapter Seven

warning: suggestive names??? slight boss bitch reader (dom) BUT FOR LIKE A TEENY TINY BIT 0.o NO MATURE CONTENT HERE…. unless??

masterlist

kenji wakes up during the night, groggy from the lack of a full nights rest in the many days that he's been taking care of the baby kaiju with you. and this being another one of those days.

he woke up to tapping on his face, opening his eyes to meet with mina who had a little mechanical hand tap at his chiseled cheek. "ken, the baby is awake. she is not calming down to videos or pictures of you and y/n. she needs you." mina 'whispers', trying her best to not wake you up in the process.

ken could only groan but not his head to which nina floats back downstairs. he turns to see you cuddled up next to him, one of your hands around lazily around him as the other one lays on the pillow above you.

ken slowly moves away, trying his best to not wake you up out of sympathy for the slight eye bags that your eyes adorned. he gently pulls your hand off his frame, laying it back onto the bed as he gets up. noticing your frog plush on the floor, he picks it up, dusting it off as he places it against your chest for you to hug in the time he is gone.

slowly stepping out of the room, he makes his way down the hallway. it isn't long before he's in the elevator going down to where the baby kaiju and mina now were, with the baby crying.

he walks up, instantly making her jump as she sniffled, he clapped his hands in a jingle as he transformed into ultraman. reaching into the containment unit, he pulls her out, resting her on his chest. he rubs her back, slowly tapping it to make her feel better.

it wasn't that long till she burped, a bit of saliva coming out of her mouth to which he groaned to, but chose to ignore in the time. it's been so long that he's been taking care of her with you, that he could tell when she just needed a good burp before going back to sleep.

but she didn't go to sleep. she stayed awake as she babbled from being placed back into the containment unit. she whined for him but kenji was too tired, tired from the lack of sleep and the events of the previous day. "mina, turn the videos on please." he mumbled as he walked away.

the videos worked as the baby happily watched, cheering occasionally at the clips of her dad playing baseball. kenji moved towards the couch he had in the room near them, throwing himself down.

mina floated to him, worried for his health and the events that happened to him a couple hours ago. "a simulated therapy session perhaps? i have several in my database." he looked at her aggravated, tired from everything. "really?" "maybe call someone? a friend?" mina insisted.

"yeah, wish i had one of those." he said as his slammed against the cooler cabinet under his seat. "you have friends. y/n is a friend." mina said as he fought the cabinet.

his calf slammed against it, making him wince as he fell down. he grunted but looked at mina, while grabbing the ultraman figure nearby him. "y/n isn't just a friend. she's my co-parent, like my partner in crime... well saving." he said as he ran his hand through his hair.

mina nodded, letting him be. kenji sat, his thoughts consuming him as he thought about what he could do. what could he do? he didn't really talk to anyone. he was popular but being a hero meant having to be distant with people. who could he call? then it hit him. he searched for his phone in his pocket, until he found their number.

▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄

a phone rang in a cozy themed room. a hand dived into the piles of magazines of famous athlete ken sato. "whoooo!" a cheerful child ran through the room as their mother answered. "hey settle down. hello?" she whispered as she put the phone to her ear.

"ami, it's ken. ken sato." the receivers eyes widened through her circular glasses at the call. "um, mr. sato. hi!" she enthusiastically responded at the call. "look, if this is about my comments, i can only judge you on what i see. if you want to set the record straight-"

she was cut off. "can we just chat? like, off the record?" ken's hand ran through his hair as he spoke, staring at the figure in his hand. on the other hand, a mother dealt with her child who ran around the room. "whoo! schuwatch! take that gazoto!"

she stared at her child as she sat on the couch. "i'm really busy right now... put that down!" she cut herself off, yelling at her child. ken stared ahead, his eyes widening slightly as the child yelled "boom! scatter drones!" whole throwing toy pieces up into the air.

"it's just... you're the only person who'll talk to me." his head flashed to the idea of y/n who laid asleep in the room above, knowing he couldn't ask her for advice as the both of them were struggling to take care of the baby kaiju.

"i'll make you a deal. i'll give you five minutes. but you have to give me a follow-up. a real interview this time." ami spoke into the phone as ken cheered, happy to have someone to talk to. "done. whatever you want!" he said smiling.

"okay, we are off the record." ami said.in that moment, the baby kaiju cried, sad that the videos of her ken were finished. "please mina, keep her busy." ken hurriedly whispered to mina, while pulling the phone away from his ear.

the baby's crying was cut short, but not early enough as you had found yourself waking up to it. you turned to see that you were the only one in the bed now, giving off an empty feeling. it felt weird, to grow so close to someone, only to unexpectedly loose that warmth over night. you shook your thoughts away, knowing you were only being dramatic in that moment from being tired.

getting out of bed with a creak, you exited the room, making your way to where your baby kaiju was. her crying was no more but you still wanted to make sure she was okay, especially since you had grown a fondness for her.

the doors to the elevator opened, showing her happily watching videos of kenji playing baseball. it was an absolutely adorable sight as you walked to her. your eyes drifted off to see kenji, awake, with his phone pressed against his ear from a distance. you waved at him, giving him a soft smile as he waved back, only to then point at his phone and then put his hand in front of you like a stop sign.

the hand signs were choppy but you understood that he was on the phone and wanted you to wait a bit before he went over there. you turned back to your unofficial official baby, seeing her coo. kenji watched from afar, a soft smile on his lips, slowly brought back to reality.

"ken, you still there?" "yep! i'm still here, im here," he sighed, "so what's the secret? how do you do it? juggle everything. your job, your kid?" he said going back into a more serious mode. don't you ever just want to jump out a window?" his voice rang through emi's ears as she watched her daughter play on the wall, doing a supported handstand, only to cartwheel into the room near it.

"ken, do you have a secret love child? because that would be a story!" ami spoke hushed with her hand cupping over her mouth. her eyes widened, excited at the idea like a middle school gossiping with her friends again over a new crush.

kenji on the other line nervous chuckled, scared to be caught in a sense. "ha ha nooo. just, uh, curious." her said trying to play it off. ami smiled, a small laugh leaving her lips.

"honestly, it's not easy, ken. they're like little monsters sometimes." ken smiled at the irony of his baby being a little monster, a kaiju to be precise. ami's daughter tumbled to the floor, a small 'mama' emitting from her lips in a cry, as she rushed over to ami to hold her. she laid her head on her lap, whining from the pain.

"but they can surprise you too. they have hearts and minds of their own. they're trying to discover who they are and what they want. and the only support they have, is us. imperfect, messed up us, dealing with our own issues, trying to figure out who the heck we are."

kenji stared at his baby kaiju who cooed at the videos of him, watching as you and her both playfully swung your hands with a bat motion. a soft smile came to his lips as ami's words rang through his head.

"and you know what? that's the beauty of it. i look at my daughter sometimes and think that i'm learning as much from her as she is from me." the baby kaiju swung back and forth, making sounds of joy as kenji's eyes widened, his phone in his hand moving down in awe. "amazing."

"yep, they sure are." ami responded, unaware of the thoughts that flew through ken's head. he rose from his seat, walking to mina as he whispered. "lower the containment unit." and so it did as it slowly went into the ground, leaving the baby out to the open.

your eyes snapped towards kenji walking to you both, confused and unaware of the revelation he was experiencing. the baby kaiju cooed, confused by stared at her dad with curiosity.

"and before you know it, she won't be interested in toys anymore and your heart will break. i'm sure you have no idea what i'm talking about ken." but he did, and it made him happy. he ran to the side, pulling out a giant kids baseball bat. it was colorful blue. he handed it to the baby kaiju, making her jump as she help it in her claws.

"ken? ken? and your five minutes is up. you gonna honor your part of the deal?" ami spoke, her voice echoing from his phone against his ear, practicing bat hits as the baby mimicked. you smiled seeing them play, deciding to join their side.

"oh uh uhm yeah yeah. tomorrow night?" ken responded distracted as he watched you jump with the baby. "oh uh sure." ami responded shocked at the sudden time. "great. tonkatsu tonki. 7:00? bye." he hung the phone up instantly, playing with the baby still as he shoved his phone in his pocket.

kenji turned to you, happy at the sight in front of him. "y/n! do you see this? she's copying me!" he said childishly excited as he ran over to you, leaving mina to play with her. "i see it, she want to be just like you." you said teasing him as he gave you a toothy smile. "yeah, she wants to be like me..." his words were hushed to himself, almost like he couldn't believe that he had became a role model.

a figure of imitation. he was now someone that a baby looked up to. he was like a dad. he's a dad now. his eyes swelled up slightly, almost like he was holding back tears as he rubbed at his eyes. you chuckled at his emotional reaction. "aww don't cry, i thought she was supposed to be the baby, hmm~"

his cheeks flushed red as he pouted at your teasing. "well maybe i want to be your baby..." he whispered softly, but yet you still heard him. almost like a chain reaction, you blushed making him blush more. "oh-" you said stunned, shocked even. "i don't mind-" you said with a sort of newfound confidence, only it didn't last long.

almost like a switch flicked in him, his head snapped to you in shock. his shy expression changed into a smirk as he wiggled his eyebrows at you. "oh really, huh? you wanna call me baby, don't you?" he said, his voice was husk as he teased you.

he boldly strutted to you, getting rid of the distance that separated the both of you as he now stood behind you, his body towering over you as his leaned down to your head. "you wanna call me baby, y/n? i think i'd prefer if you'd call me daddy." he voice was smooth, sweet and seductive all at once.

your skin heated from the emotions you felt, almost lime you could pass out in that second. "so? hm?" kenji was like whiplash, so sweet and gentle one second, than childish and silly, to a whole 180 as he switched to seductive and bold out of nowhere.

it was then that his words flashed through your head. "call you daddy huh? seems like someone else wants it more, don't you think?" you said as you turned around and pressed a finger against his chest, hooking it into his shirt roughly. he could only gulp, turning back into the shy and sweet kenji you were used to.

"oh! would you uh look at that- she's using the bat!" kenji nervously ran from you with his face red, hiding his face with his blue cap. you laughed at his reaction, smiling and trailing behind him as he faced mina.

"uhm mina, load up a park. maybe start her out with one of the older simulations." he said, acting as though nothing happened earlier. mina listened to him as you stood next to them both, watching g as the once dark, black-like room turned into a children's baseball park. it felt homey and cute, you couldn't help but relish in the sweet feeling.

you heard cheering to the side, noticing a holograph of a women show up. you recognized her, it was kenji's mom. you remembered those days where professor sato would ramble to you all the sweet little stories they went through as he searched for her after suddenly disappearing.

you couldn't help but frown at the idea but shook it off hering kenji praise mina. "nice touch mina." he said softly, running to the base in the middle, getting ready to play a game of baseball with the sweet baby kaiju you both grew to love.

note: a/n! i'm sorry if the chapter seems rushed, i just wanted to get one out to you all so you all won't have to wait that long :( ALSO FBNABDSJ THE WHOLE DADDY AND THEN SLIGHT DOMINANT READER - that's on me y'all, it's the voices in my head 👹 so i guess it's a teeny bit 'mature' but well, who doesn't mind some fan service >:3 also i won't be posting till after june 29 since i will be busy that whole day so i hope u all understand <3 I PROMISE U ALL THE WAIT WILL BE WORTH IT!!! trust me >:3

TAGLIST!

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[adrienneleclerc]

Wrong Name

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Hispanic/Latina! Reader

Summary: Charles pranks Y/N by calling her the wrong name to see how she would react, it did not go well

Warning: spelling and grammatical errors

A/N: inspired by @23victoria post “what did you call me” also I figured Y/N put Charles through two TikTok pranks, it’s only fair Charles pulls a prank on her. Same universe as ���say it back” and “can you get out?” Also, super sorry if your name is Romina.

Charles was on TikTok because he couldn’t sleep and saw a video where a girl called her boyfriend by the wrong name. He decided to take it upon himself to pull this prank on his girlfriend. He just hopes she doesn’t get angry.

“Muñeco, im getting groceries for dinner, I’ll be back soon!” Y/N calls out.

“Okay, Mon ange.” Charles said, getting off the couch to say goodbye to his girlfriend properly. “I love you.” Charles kissed Y/N.

“I love you too.” Y/N said before leaving. Charles decided to play video games and when he heard the door open 30 minutes later, that’s when he decided to put his plan into action. Y/N was putting the groceries away in the fridge when…

“Hey Romina, what did you buy?” Charles said and Y/N closed the fridge and the bags that were on the counter were long forgotten because she was now in front of the TV.

“What did you say?” Y/N asked.

“I said ‘hey Y/N, what did you buy?’ Are you feeling alright?” Charles asked, pausing his game. He felt so guilty for the gaslighting.

“The hell you did, you just called me Romina. Who the fuck is Romina?” Y/N asked in a louder tone.

“Romina, calm down.” Charles said and that’s when he knew he fucked up.

“First of all, you never tell a woman to calm down, have you learned NOTHING from watching TV or having other girlfriends? Second, you just called me Romina AGAIN! So please, calmly tell me…” Y/N said as she went to their bedroom to get one of her chanclas 🩴 “who the hell is Romina before I become like my mother and beat your ass with this chancla.”

“There’s no need to get violent, Y/N.” Charles said.

“Really? Then tell me why did you call me Romina.” Y/N said.

“It was a prank.” Charles said. “I saw a TikTok of girls calling their boyfriends by the wrong name and I wanted to see how you would react.” Charles confessed shyly.

“You chose THAT prank, specifically THAT one, to pull on me, a girl who has been cheated on before?” Y/N asked rhetorically.

“Yeah, I didn’t think it through actually.” Charles admitted.

“Menso, i was actually gonna hit you.” Y/N said.

“You love me too much to hit me.” Charles said.

“That’s true. Anyway, I have to finish putting the groceries away because someone decided to be a pendejo and prank me. Like why would you prank me? I’m a freaking delight.” Y/N said, walking save to the kitchen

“You pranked me twice, ma Belle!” Charles exclaimed, following her.

“Okay but those were cute pranks, that prank would have ended up with me in jail.” Y/N said, putting the groceries away on the fridge, freezer, and pantry.

“I would never let you go to jail.” Charles said,

“Hey, so while I’m cooking dinner, I’m gonna put on some music, okay.” Y/N said.

“Yeah that’s fine.” Charles said and they kissed. Y/N out her phone on full volume to CUIDADITO by Becky G and Chiquis, singing out loud and specific part.

“Yo no soy celosa pero si eso pasa me transformo en otra. Te poncho las llantas dormirás afuera y esa misma noche le marco a mi suegra para que recoja a la cochinada que un día parió. Te rayo el carro te quiebro los vidrios y voy a llamar a todos mis amigos para que me ayuden que en un pisteada lo arregló yo. Nomas cuidadito con ponerme el cuerno que todo eso lo hago y hasta más me atrevo y no mas te advierto que cuidadito con ponerme el cuerno de la que te salvaste da gracias a dios que nomas fue una broma.” Y/N sung, changing the last two words (which are originally ‘un sueño ’ which means ‘a dream’). I’m not a jealous woman but if that were to happen, I become a different person. I’ll slash your tires, you’ll be sleeping outside, and I’ll call my mother in law that same night to pick up the piece of shit she gave birth to. I’ll key your car, break your windows, and I’ll call my friends so they’ll help me, I’ll handle it in one good beating. If you cheat on me, just be careful because I would do all of that and even more, I’m just warning you to be careful if you cheat on me. You got lucky, thank god it was only just a prank

“Mon ange, what’s that song about?” Charles asked curiously.

“The song is about a women who dreamt that her husband cheated on her. She would have done some crazy shit if he actually cheated her so he’s fucking lucky it was only a dream.” Y/N said with a smile.

“But you sang ‘broma’ and that’s means ‘joke’…” charles said,

“Or prank.” Y/N said,

“You sang that for me?!?” Charles yelled.

“Yes I did so you know, cuidadito.” Y/N warned.

“I Don’t know whether to be scared of you or attracted to you.” Charles confessed and Y/N laughed.

“Both work, mi Amor. You want lomo saltado or tallarines saltado?” Y/N asked.

“Whats the difference?” Charles asked.

“Lomo has French fries and is served with rice, tallarines is pasta.” Y/N said,

“Pasta please.” Charles said,

“Of course, muñeco.” Y/N said, chopping the steak into little strips while humming the music to CUIDADITO and Charles stared at her because he found himself humming too.

“You know I would never cheat on you, right Y/N?” Charles asked just to make sure.

“Of course I know you’d never cheat on me. But the song is so catchy.” Y/N commented and that made Charles feel so much better. He walked up to Y/N and hugged her from behind as she continued to chop the steak, he kissed her shoulder.

“I love you,” Charles said,

“I love you too.” Y/N said,

The End

Hope y’all liked it! A silly little one shot for giggles 🤭

[badathumanemotions]

Hello! I don't know if you're taking requests, but if you are I'm begging for an emily prentiss × female!reader with a dom/sub dynamic involving... Scissoring (I don't know if that's how you say it, but that's how I'm going to say it) after a difficult private case involving children (which is Emily's weak point) and I thought about breeding kinks, if possible (I think it's hot involving sapphic couples). Please?

The Quiet After

Emily Prentiss x femReader

MDNI Masterlist Category: Smut CW: Normal Criminal Minds Warnings, Case Involving Children, BAU Reader, Angst, Smut, Oral Sex, Tribidism, Scissoring, Strap On, Breeding Kink, Light Dom/Sub, Comfort. WC: 7,852 *Updated* Completely missed the first section while transferring it over, sorry about that. (Not Proof Read)

The case weighs heavily on Emily. It’s in her eyes—those tired, worn-out eyes you’ve come to know better than anyone else’s. She doesn’t let it show on the surface, but you can feel it. You know her. And this case, with the kids, is getting to her in a way that’s deeper than usual.

You watch her for a moment, standing at the board, her fingers tracing the photos of the missing children. The unsub believes he’s doing them a favour—taking them to a “better” place. It’s not hard to guess why it hits Emily so hard. There’s a part of her, a quiet, secret part, that wants to be a mother. She’s told you once, during one of those rare moments when she lets her guard down, when it’s just the two of you, and she’s soft, vulnerable in ways that few people get to see.

You’ve seen the subtle changes—the way her hands linger over the files of the kids, her shoulders tightening as the day stretches on. She’s struggling, but you’re here. You’re with her. And even when the case is consuming her, she finds ways to steal small moments with you, little gestures that recharge her.

A quiet kiss behind the SUV after the briefing. Her hand slipping into yours as you walk to the next scene. The brief press of her lips to your temple when she thinks no one’s looking. It’s in these moments that you can feel her ground herself again, as if your touch can remind her that she’s not alone in this.

The board in the conference room is covered with photos of the missing children, their faces staring back at you. There are seven so far, ranging in age from five to eleven. Beneath each photo are snapshots of their lives—school pictures, candid moments from birthday parties, photos scraped from social media. It’s a cruel juxtaposition against the grim reality of their current circumstances.

“The unsub is targeting children they perceive as neglected,” Spencer explains, standing near the map dotted with pins marking the locations of the abductions. “But their definition of neglect seems warped. The children’s backgrounds don’t show significant patterns of abuse or systemic failures.”

“It’s subjective,” Emily adds, her voice sharp and focused. “They’re acting on personal judgment, deciding these kids aren’t being cared for based on arbitrary criteria—like an out-of-context moment or assumption about the family dynamic.” Her arms are crossed tightly over her chest, a shield against the emotions brimming beneath the surface.

Garcia clicks through slides on the projector, her voice uncharacteristically subdued. “This is Evan Marshall, eight years old. His mom works two jobs, so he’s often in the care of his older sister. She’s fifteen. CPS has never been involved. Teachers describe him as happy and well-adjusted.”

The photo shifts to a girl no older than twelve. “And this is Sophia Grant. Her dad is a single parent. No abuse on record, but the unsub might have seen him disciplining her in public. And then there’s Mia Lang, five years old. Her parents had a loud argument at a grocery store a week before she was taken. Someone might have seen that and made assumptions.”

“They think they’re saving these kids from a horrible life,” JJ says, shaking her head. “But in reality, they’re just ripping them away from their families.”

Spencer frowns, adding, “It’s likely that the unsub sees themselves as a redeemer, correcting what they perceive as societal failures. Each abduction reinforces their sense of righteousness. The more they take, the more justified they feel.”

A heavy silence falls over the room. The photos on the board feel suffocating. Seven children—snatched away under the guise of salvation, only to be murdered by someone who thinks they’re better off dead.

Emily’s gaze lingers on the images longer than the others. Her jaw tightens, and you can almost see the turmoil brewing beneath her composed exterior. This isn’t just another case for her. It’s personal in ways she hasn’t fully shared with anyone but you.

Later, during a quieter moment, you find her standing by the SUVs in the parking lot, her back to the building. Her fingers worry the strap of her holster, a nervous habit she doesn’t even realize she’s doing.

You approach slowly, your footsteps pulling her from her thoughts. She looks up, her expression softening slightly when her eyes meet yours.

“Hey,” you say, your voice gentle as you step closer.

She doesn’t speak immediately, but she doesn’t resist when you slide your hand into hers, offering her an anchor.

“I hate this case,” she finally admits, her voice barely above a whisper. “It’s not just the kids. It’s the way the unsub thinks they’re doing the right thing. That they’re justified.”

You nod, squeezing her hand lightly. “It’s awful. But we’ll find them, Emily. You’ll find them.”

Her jaw clenches, and for a moment, you think she’s going to argue, but then she exhales a shaky breath and nods. “I hope so,” she murmurs.

Her hand tightens around yours, grounding herself in your touch. It’s a stolen moment, brief but powerful, as she lets herself lean into you. The team doesn’t need to see this—the way she recharges herself in the quiet moments you share.

“You okay?” you ask softly, your free hand brushing a strand of hair from her face.

Her eyes meet yours, and though the exhaustion is clear, there’s gratitude there too. “I will be,” she says, her voice steadier now.

You stand there together for a little longer, the weight of the case momentarily lighter between you. It’s enough to remind her—and you—that she’s not in this alone.

The tension in the room was electric as the team pieced together the final parts of the unsub’s profile. Spencer’s rapid-fire monologue laid out the psychological motivations, each word building up a picture of the unsub.

“The unsub’s fixation stems from a personal history of perceived neglect,” he explained, his hands moving animatedly as he spoke. “They’re projecting their own experiences onto these children and making judgment calls based on fleeting observations. The perceived neglect—a single-parent household, a sibling as a caretaker—is triggering their need to intervene.”

“They’re likely observing the children over time,” JJ added. “The unsub is targeting families that seem chaotic or unconventional from the outside, but these are often normal, loving homes. They’re misinterpreting moments—like a parent raising their voice in public or an older sibling looking overwhelmed—as signs of neglect.”

Emily’s arms were crossed tightly, her jaw set in a way you recognized. She was focused, determined, and more emotionally invested than she’d ever admit in front of the team.

“What we’ve seen so far suggests they’re escalating,” JJ added, her voice heavy with concern. “They’ve gone from abducting children every few weeks to every few days. If we don’t move fast, there’s going to be another victim.”

“Garcia, do we have anything on their potential location?” Hotch’s voice cut through the discussion with its usual authority.

Garcia’s fingers flew across her keyboard, her eyes scanning through reams of property records, utility bills, and work schedules for any anomaly that might point to a suspect. “I’m narrowing down properties owned or rented by individuals with ties to these areas," she said, her voice tense but determined. "I’m looking for someone whose daily routine brings them into contact with children in these areas—a school bus driver, a delivery person, someone who works near parks or schools. Those interactions might be how they observed the kids." She glanced at the screen. "Cross-referencing every property associated with individuals fitting the profile within a fifty-mile radius of the abduction sites. Hang tight, my loves, I’ll have something soon."

Moments later, her screen lit up with a match. "Okay, I’ve got something. George Lyman, 38 years old, works as a postal carrier in the targeted areas. His route regularly takes him through neighbourhoods where each of the victims lived. He’s single, no criminal record, but… oh." Garcia paused, her tone shifting. "He has a history of child protective services reports from his own childhood. His parents were flagged multiple times for physical and emotional abuse, but every time George ran away, he was returned to them. There are records of repeated visits by social workers, but nothing was ever done to remove him from the home.”

Emily’s face darkened. “So he sees himself in these kids, believes he’s saving them.”

Hotch nodded. “That fits with the profile. What else do we have on him?”

“He rents a farmhouse just outside town,” Garcia continued. “It’s isolated and matches the description of the type of location we’ve been looking for. I’m sending you the address now.”

You caught Emily’s eye across the room. The exhaustion in her face was mirrored in your own, but beneath it, you saw the same resolve. You gave her a small nod, and she returned it—just a fraction, but it was enough to steady you both.

The drive to the farmhouse was tense. Emily sat beside you, her leg bouncing with restless energy. She’d barely spoken since the briefing, and you knew better than to press her. Instead, you let your pinky brush hers on the console between you, a silent reassurance. She glanced at you briefly, the corners of her mouth twitching in a ghost of a smile, before turning her focus back to the road ahead.

The farmhouse loomed in the distance, its silhouette stark against the darkening sky. The team split into pairs, surrounding the property. You were with Emily, your weapons drawn as you moved toward the back entrance.

“Ready?” you whispered.

She nodded, her jaw tightening. “Let’s do this.”

The door creaked open under Emily’s firm push, revealing a dimly lit interior that smelled of damp wood and decay. You swept the first room together, clearing it quickly before moving deeper into the house. Upstairs, muffled voices and a child’s cry sent a chill down your spine.

Emily held up a hand, signalling you to pause. She leaned toward you, her voice barely audible. “They’re up there. We need to be careful.”

You nodded, your heart hammering in your chest. Together, you ascended the stairs, each step deliberate and silent. At the top, you found yourselves in a long hallway, the sound of the child’s cries growing louder. Emily gestured to the farthest door, and you both moved toward it.

Hotch’s voice came through your comm. “We’ve cleared the lower level. The house is empty except for one suspect. Any sign of the child?”

Emily responded quietly, “We’re about to breach a room on the second floor. Stand by.”

You reached the door and exchanged a glance with her. This was it. Emily counted down with her fingers, and on three, you burst into the room together.

The room was small, its walls covered with old wallpaper curling at the edges. A man stood in the center, his grip tight on a terrified boy’s arm. The child, no older than eight, was trembling, his tear-streaked face pale with fear.

“FBI!” Emily shouted, her voice commanding. “Drop the weapon and let the boy go!”

The unsub’s eyes were wild, darting between you and Emily. He clutched a knife in his free hand, the blade trembling as much as his fingers. “You don’t understand,” he said, his voice cracking. “I’m saving him.”

“Saving him from what?” you asked, keeping your voice calm. “He needs his family. Whatever you think you’re doing, this isn’t the way to help.”

The unsub shook his head violently. “No one cared about me! No one ever cared! They won’t care about him either!”

Emily took a slow, careful step forward, her gun still trained on the man. “George, listen to me. You’re scared, and you’re hurting, but this isn’t the answer. Look at him—he’s just a child. You can’t make him go through what you did.”

For a moment, something flickered in George’s eyes—hesitation, maybe even regret. His grip on the knife faltered, his hand trembling. But then, in an instant, he pulled the boy closer, the blade pressing against the child’s neck.

“Stay back!” George screamed, his voice breaking. “Don’t make me do this!”

Your heart raced as you saw the terror in the boy’s eyes. Emily’s voice remained steady, though you could hear the edge of desperation in it. “You don’t have to do this, George. Put the knife down, and we’ll talk. No one else has to get hurt.”

The standoff stretched into agonizing seconds, every muscle in your body coiled and ready to move. You caught Emily’s eye, and she gave the slightest nod—silent confirmation of the plan forming between you.

In a swift motion, Emily fired, her shot hitting George’s shoulder with pinpoint accuracy. The knife clattered to the floor as George cried out in pain, his grip on the boy loosening. You didn’t hesitate, lunging forward and pulling the child into your arms, shielding him as Emily rushed to subdue the unsub.

“It’s okay,” you whispered to the boy, your voice gentle as you held him close. “You’re safe now. We’ve got you.”

The boy clung to you, his small hands gripping your shirt as he sobbed uncontrollably. You crouched on the floor with him, your body positioned protectively between him and the rest of the room.

Emily secured George with practiced efficiency, her jaw tight as she snapped the handcuffs into place. She glanced over at you and the boy, her expression softening ever so slightly when she saw you murmuring reassurances to him.

The rest of the team arrived moments later, the tension in the room finally breaking as Hotch and Morgan took over. Emily walked over to you, crouching beside you and the boy.

“Hey,” she said softly, her voice a stark contrast to the authority she’d wielded moments ago. “You’re safe now. Can you tell me your name?”

The boy hiccupped through his tears. “E-Evan,” he managed.

Emily smiled gently. “Evan, you’re so brave. We’re going to take you home, okay?”

He nodded, his grip on you loosening just enough for Emily to brush a comforting hand over his back.

As the team began to clear the scene and escort George out, you stayed with Evan, his small frame still trembling against yours. Emily stood, giving you a brief but meaningful look before stepping away to help the others.

You held Evan a little tighter, feeling the weight of his fear and relief as if it were your own. In that moment, nothing else mattered but making sure he felt safe.

The boy, Evan, was safely in the hands of the paramedics now, his sobs slowly subsiding as he clung to one of the responders. The team had the unsub secured, and the farmhouse was already being cleared. You felt a wave of exhaustion wash over you as you watched them lead Evan to safety, but it wasn’t over yet.

“Good job, everyone,” Hotch said, his voice steady, even in the aftermath. “Let’s wrap this up.”

The drive back home was quiet, the weight of the case still hanging heavy in the air. You sat beside Emily, your fingers brushing occasionally, the small touches speaking volumes. She was focused on the road, her jaw tense, but you could see the weariness in her eyes. You didn’t speak, neither of you needed to, but your proximity was a comfort—a grounding force amid the chaos of the case.

By the time you made it to your shared apartment, the evening had settled into a quiet calm, but the emotions of the day were far from gone. You both stepped out of the SUV, the cool night air feeling sharper now as it hit your skin. Without a word, you walked side by side into the building, up to your apartment, and inside.

The door clicked shut behind you, and just like that, the quiet of the apartment surrounded you both, cutting through the exhaustion that clung to your bones.

Emily didn’t say anything. She simply kicked off her shoes, then reached for you, pulling you into a tight embrace. Her arms were strong, but there was something softer about this moment—more raw than you’d seen in her before. It was as if she couldn’t bear to let go of you, even for a second.

Then she leaned in, her breath warm against your cheek. Her kiss took you by surprise—intimate and urgent. It was as if she was trying to erase the horror of the day with the press of her lips to yours. You didn’t resist. You couldn’t. Instead, you melted into it, letting the heat of her touch seep into your very soul.

Her arms wound around your waist, pulling you closer, until there wasn’t an inch of space between you. Your hands found their way to her hair, tangling in the soft strands as the kiss grew deeper, more desperate. It was a kiss filled with fear and anger, but also with a fierce love and a need to be connected—to be human.

Without breaking away, you both stumbled into the bedroom. The door clicked shut, cutting off the outside world, leaving just the two of you. You didn’t bother with the lights, the moon casting enough of a glow through the windows to navigate the room. Her hands were everywhere—on your neck, your back, sliding down to your ass—and you could feel the urgency in every touch, as if she was trying to claim you as her own.

Emily’s strength was surprising as she hoisted you onto the bed. You felt your breath hitch as she looked down at you, a wild hunger burning in her gaze. You could see the need etched on her features, the same need echoing in your own chest. It was raw, animalistic, and you craved it like a drug.

Her hands moved to the buttons of your shirt, deftly undoing them one by one. Each button released cool air against your skin, causing goosebumps to break out. She took her time, kissing each inch of exposed flesh as if she were worshipping it, her lips leaving a trail of fire in their wake. The fabric parted to reveal your bra, and she took a moment to simply look at you, her eyes darkening with desire.

Emily’s fingertips danced along the lace, tracing the edge of your bra before gently pushing the fabric up to reveal your breasts. She took one nipple into her mouth, her tongue swirling around it in a slow, tantalizing dance that had you arching off the bed. The sensation was exquisite, and you couldn’t help but moan, your hands fisting in the sheets. Her other hand found its way to your waistband, and she began to unbuckle your belt with an agonizing slowness that made you want to scream in frustration.

Her kisses travelled down your torso, each one more urgent than the last. She kissed your stomach, her breath tickling the sensitive skin, and you felt your abs clench in anticipation. As she reached the button of your pants, she paused, her eyes meeting yours. You nodded, giving her the silent go-ahead, your body aching for her touch.

Your pants fell away, revealing the simple cotton panties that were already damp with need. Emily’s gaze was intense, her pupils dilated with desire. Her hand reached out, tracing the waistband of your underwear with the back of her fingers before she hooked them and slowly began to pull them down.

Her eyes were focused as the fabric slid over your hips, exposing the wetness that had gathered between your legs. You watched her face, the hunger in her expression unmistakable. It sent a thrill through you, a heady mix of desire and power, knowing you could do this to her.

Emily’s fingertips brushed over your inner thighs, sending shivers of anticipation through your body. You spread your legs wider, silently begging for her touch. She didn’t make you wait long. With a soft, almost reverent sigh, she reached down and parted your folds with the tips of her fingers. You gasped as she touched you, the sensation of her skin against yours sending heat through your core.

Her touch was gentle at first—exploratory. She traced the length of your slit, her fingertips slipping through your slickness and circling your clit with maddening precision. Your hips rocked upward, seeking more pressure, but she took her time, her eyes studying your reactions. Each touch was calculated, a silent exploration of what you liked, what you needed.

Then, her fingers entered you, sliding in smoothly. You bit your lip to stifle a moan as she began to move, setting a slow, deliberate pace that had you panting. Her thumb found your clit, stroking it in time with the movement of her fingers. It was a sweet agony, the anticipation of what was to come building with every second that passed.

She brought her mouth to your pussy, her tongue swiping over your clit with a gentle touch that had you trembling. She took her time, savouring every part of you, and when she finally closed her lips around the sensitive bud, you couldn’t hold back the gasp.

Her suckling grew more intense, each pull sending shockwaves through your body. Her teeth grazed you gently, not quite biting, but adding an edge to the pleasure that had you digging your nails into the bedspread. Emily’s hand gripped your thigh, holding you in place as she explored your depths, her fingers moving in tandem with her mouth.

As the tension grew, you felt your body begin to quiver. You reached down to stroke her hair, needing to feel connected to her in every way possible. She took your cue, increasing her pace, her tongue flicking against your clit with a rhythm that had your toes curling. Your breathing grew ragged, your moans echoing through the room.

Emily’s own need was palpable. You could see it in the way her hips began to rock back and forth, grinding her core against the edge of the bed. She was so focused on bringing you pleasure that she forgot about herself. But you weren’t going to let that happen.

With trembling hands, you reached down and pulled Emily up onto the bed. Her body was a warm, solid weight against you. You both needed this—needed to feel each other, needed to be close.

You began to kiss her again, but this time, you were the one in charge. Your hands moved to her shirt, slipping it off her shoulders and down her arms, revealing her bare skin to the cool air. Her bra followed, and you took a moment to just look at her—her perfect breasts, the rosy tips of her nipples standing at attention.

Your tongue darted out, tracing the outline of one erect peak before closing your mouth around it. Emily gasped, her head falling back, and you took advantage, sucking gently as you teased the sensitive flesh. You felt her hands in your hair, her nails digging into your scalp as she pulled you closer, her hips bucking against you.

Your hands moved to her breasts, cupping the soft mounds before squeezing them firmly. Your thumbs flicked over the tightened buds, eliciting whimpers that only spurred you on. You could feel her nipples pebbled against your palms, the sensation sending jolts of desire straight to your own core. Emily’s breath grew shallower, her body arching towards you as you played her like an instrument.

With a sudden, urgent need to feel all of her, you slid your hand down her stomach, over the waistband of her pants. Your fingers worked the button and zipper with surprising dexterity, given how much your own hands were shaking. You pushed the fabric down, her underwear following, revealing her bare sex.

Emily’s thighs parted slightly, an unspoken invitation that you couldn’t resist. You gripped her thighs firmly, spreading her wider as you leaned in to taste her. Your tongue darted out, lapping up the wetness that had pooled at her entrance.

Her hips jerked in response, a soft whine escaping her as you found her clit, swollen and begging for attention. You took it into your mouth, sucking gently before swirling your tongue around it, feeling it pulse against you. Her legs quivered around your head, and you knew you had her exactly where you wanted her.

Your fingers slid into her, curling slightly to hit that spot inside that always made her moan. The sound was music to your ears, a symphony of need and desire that had you pressing harder, moving faster. Emily’s breath was coming in short gasps now, her body tightening with every stroke.

The two of you were a captivating mess—half-clothed and carelessly undone, tangled together on the bed in a chaotic, feverish embrace, completely consumed by desire. Emily’s eyes never left yours as you pleasured her, her gaze a blend of passion and something deeper—gratitude, perhaps, for this brief reprieve from the horrors of the case.

Her hips rolled against your mouth, and you knew she was close. You doubled your efforts, desperate to make her cum, to show her that amidst the chaos, she was cherished, loved. You added a second finger, curling them inside her in a come-hither motion that had her back bowing off the bed.

Emily’s breath grew ragged, her eyes squeezed shut as she whispered your name. You could feel her body tighten around your fingers, her muscles clenching as the first waves of her orgasm began to crash over her. You didn’t let up, your mouth working her clit, your other hand sliding up to pinch her nipple, twisting just enough to send sparks of painful pleasure shooting through her.

“Cum for me, Em,” you murmured against her folds, the vibration of your voice sending another tremor through her body. “Let go, baby.”

Emily’s eyes snapped open, meeting yours, and you could see the need there, the desperation in her gaze. You didn’t stop your relentless rhythm, didn’t ease up on her clit. You needed her to release, to feel the shattering pleasure that you knew was just out of reach.

Then, you began to hum—a low, steady vibration that resonated against her sensitive flesh. It was all it took. Her body went rigid, and then she was cumming, her orgasm ripping through her like a storm. Her cries filled the room, her hips jerking wildly against your face as you held her through it, her muscles pulsing around your fingers.

It was a beautiful sight—Emily’s release, raw and unbridled. You felt a sense of accomplishment, a fierce satisfaction at being the one to give it to her. But even as the first orgasm subsided, you didn’t stop. You knew her body, knew that with the right touches, you could coax more from her.

Your tongue remained on her clit, flicking gently through the aftershocks. Emily’s hips rolled, and you knew she was trying to pull away, to catch her breath, but you held her firm, keeping the pressure steady. It didn’t take much—just a few more strokes before she was gasping again, her body responding to your relentless pursuit of her pleasure.

Her second orgasm hit her like a surprise attack, stealing the breath from her lungs. She bucked against you, her pussy fluttering around your fingers. You groaned against her, the vibration of your voice sending another jolt through her.

Emily’s hands were in your hair now, her nails scraping at your scalp, holding you in place. You felt the tension in her thighs as she rode the waves of pleasure, her breath coming in panting gasps. You didn’t let up, your tongue and fingers working in tandem to milk every last drop of ecstasy from her trembling body.

As the second orgasm began to subside, you slowly pulled back, kissing your way up her body. You could feel her pulse beneath your lips, her chest heaving with each ragged breath. You looked into her eyes, searching for any sign of discomfort, but all you saw was a desperate hunger that mirrored your own.

Without a word, she rolled you over, her body straddling yours. Her hands found your face, pulling it closer until your mouths collided in a kiss that was as fiery as it was tender. She kissed you as if she were trying to consume you, her tongue delving into your mouth with an urgency that was almost desperate.

Emily’s hips began to move, grinding into yours with a rhythm that was both seductive and demanding. You could feel the heat of her core against yours, the wetness of her desire coating your skin. Your own need grew, your body responding instinctively to the pressure of hers.

Without breaking the kiss, you shifted, aligning your bodies so that your clits met. The sensation was electric, sending bolts of pleasure through your core. You moaned into her mouth, your legs locking together as you began to rock back and forth.

The wet sound of skin against skin grew louder, punctuating the air with each movement. Your hips rolled together in a sensual dance, the friction building between you. The pressure was exquisite, the feeling of her body against yours setting off sparks that threatened to ignite a wildfire.

You wrapped your arms around her, your hands finding purchase on her toned back as she ground into you. Your own hips met hers thrust for thrust, each movement bringing you closer to the edge. The scent of your combined arousal filled the room, a musky perfume that was intoxicating.

Her hips picked up speed, the friction between you growing more intense. You could feel the slickness of your desire as it coated your thighs, a testament to how badly you needed this release. Emily’s breath was hot against your neck, her teeth grazing your skin as she nipped and kissed her way down to your collarbone.

You both were so wet, the sound of your bodies sliding against each other filled the room. Your clits swollen and sensitive, the constant pressure sending waves of pleasure through your bodies. You wrapped your arms around her, pulling her closer, the heat of her breasts pressing into yours.

Emily’s hands slid down to your ass, gripping you firmly as she ground her hips into yours. The sensation was overwhelming, the friction sending jolts of pleasure through your body with every movement. Your own hips matched hers, the rhythm becoming more frenzied as you both chased the peak of your climax.

“You’re so wet for me, sweet girl,” she murmured against your neck, her voice a low growl of approval. The words sent a shiver of submission that you had desperately craved. You arched into her touch, your body begging for more.

Emily’s kiss grew more demanding, her tongue delving into your mouth as if she could taste your need. You could feel the tremble in her own body, the aftershocks of her recent orgasm still resonating through her. But she wasn’t done with you yet.

With a sudden shift, she pulled away, her eyes dark with intent. “Be a good girl and make me cum one more time,” she breathed, the words sending a new wave of lust through you. You nodded, eager to give her what she wanted, eager to feel her come apart in your arms again.

“I plan on getting my strap out and breeding you tonight, sweetheart,” Emily whispered in your ear, the promise of dominance in her voice sending a thrill through you. Your eyes widened at her words, the excitement of the turn in your intimate moment making your heart race.

With a sudden surge of need, your hips bucked against hers, your body desperately seeking the release that was just out of reach. Emily’s eyes lit up with approval, her grip on you tightening as she held you in place. “Looks like you want it as badly as I do,” she said with a smirk, her voice low and husky with desire.

You nodded, unable to form coherent words as you felt the pressure building again. Emily’s own hips began to rock, her movements more deliberate and forceful as she matched your rhythm. The feeling of her clit grinding against yours was heavenly, sending waves of pleasure crashing through your body. You could feel the heat from her core, the wetness of her desire, and it only made you want more.

The sound of her moans grew louder, filling the room. They were sweet and needy, urging you to give her what she craved. You responded in kind, your own sounds of pleasure mingling with hers. Each gasp, each whimper was a symphony of desire that spurred you onward.

Her hips rocked faster, the slickness of your arousal making it easier for her to glide against you. You could feel the tension coil tight in your stomach, your legs trembling with the effort to keep up. Your body was a live wire, ready to snap at any moment.

Emily’s moans grew louder, the sound of her pleasure pushing you closer and closer to your own release. Your own breath came in pants and gasps, your nails digging into the flesh of her back as you held on for dear life. You felt her get wetter, her movements growing more erratic as she approached climax.

“Cum for me, Emily, please,” you begged, the words spilling from your mouth like a prayer. The need to hear her fall apart, to feel her body convulse with pleasure was overwhelming. She threw her head back, her eyes squeezed shut, and you knew she was close.

With a few hard, desperate thrusts, you pushed against her, the friction between your bodies reaching a fever pitch. Emily’s hips stuttered, her breath coming in short, sharp gasps. And then, she was there—her body tightening against yours, her cries filling the room as she shuddered with release.

The moment she came, you felt it—a rush of wetness that soaked the sheets beneath you. You couldn’t help but moan at the sensation, your own climax just a breath away. Emily’s eyes snapped open, and she stared down at you with a fierce hunger.

Then, she broke away, reaching for the bedside drawer. You watched as she pulled out a harness and a silicone dildo. The sight of it sent a thrill through you, a mix of excitement and trepidation. She looked into your eyes, her own alight with something primal.

“I’m going to fuck a baby into you,” Emily growls. It was a dark promise, a fantasy that sent a shiver down your spine. The words alone were enough to make your pussy throb with anticipation.

The harness was strapped around her hips, the dildo jutting out like an extension of her. She leaned over you, the tip brushing against your wetness, and you felt your body respond instinctively, your hips rising to meet it.

Emily took hold of your hips, her grip firm and commanding. You watched as she positioned the toy at your entrance. Then, with a single, powerful thrust, she plunged into your wet heat.

You cried out in pleasure, the feeling of fullness overwhelming you as she claimed you. Your eyes squeezed shut, and you couldn’t help but let your head fall back into the pillow, your body arching up to meet her. The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room, punctuated by your gasps and her growls of effort.

Emily’s eyes bore into yours, the intensity of her gaze making your heart race. “You’re mine,” she murmured, her voice low and possessive. “You’re going to carry my baby.”

The words hung in the air, coloured with desire and dominance. It was a heady mix, and you found yourself nodding, eager to submit to her every whim. The thought of being filled by her, of carrying a piece of her inside you, was intoxicating.

“Yes, Em,” you babbled out, your voice trembling with need. “I want it—please, take me, make me yours. I want to be filled with you, to carry your baby. Make me feel it, all of it. Don’t stop.”

Emily’s eyes blazed with desire, her pupils blown out. She leaned down, her breasts brushing against yours, and whispered, “You’re going to be so full, my love. Everyone will know you’re mine, that you’re carrying my child.”

With that, she began to move in earnest, setting a steady pace that had you whimpering. Each thrust filled you completely, the girth of the toy stretching your walls and hitting that spot inside that made your toes curl. Your hands clutched at her shoulders, your nails digging in as you tried to keep up with the sensations that were crashing over you like waves.

Her hips moved in a relentless rhythm, the dildo sliding in and out of you with ease. The room was filled with the sounds of your muffled cries and the slick sound of her movements. You could feel yourself building, your body responding to the eroticism of her words and actions.

Emily lifted one of your legs, changing the angle and hitting you deeper, harder. The sudden shift in sensation had you crying out, your hand flying to cover your mouth to keep the noise from escaping. Your eyes watered as she stared down at you, her expression one of pure determination.

Then, she grabbed your wrist, her grip surprisingly firm, and pulled your hand away from your mouth. "Don't you dare stifle those pretty little sounds," she demanded, a dark smile playing at the corners of her lips.

"I want the neighbours to hear how good I’m making you feel," Emily growled, the feral sound sending a shiver down your spine. She pulled out almost all the way before slamming back into you, the force of her thrust making the bed frame shake. Your moan was loud, echoing through the apartment, and you felt a thrill knowing that anyone close by could hear the unmistakable sounds of your passion.

Her hips picked up speed, the slap of her thighs against yours growing louder. Each thrust sent a jolt of pleasure through your body, and you found yourself letting go, moaning louder and louder, the sounds bouncing off the walls.

Emily’s grip on your hips tightened as she pulled you down onto her silicone cock, the friction building between your bodies. She was relentless, her movements powerful and possessive. You could feel yourself getting wetter, the sound of your slickness mingling with your cries of pleasure.

Her other hand found its way to your throat, not squeezing but rather holding you in place as she claimed you. The dominance was intoxicating, and you found yourself leaning into it, your body begging for more.

As Emily’s strokes grew more intense, so did her words, whispered into your ear like dark promises. "You’re going to carry my baby," she repeated, her voice a mix of a command and a desperate plea. "You’re going to be so full of me, so ripe with life."

The thought sent you spiralling, your body responding in kind. You felt your orgasm building, the pressure in your core tightening with each thrust. "Yes, Emily," you moaned, your voice breaking. "I want it—want to be filled with you, to carry your baby."

Her eyes lit up with triumph at your words, her movements growing even more frenzied. She leaned down, her teeth grazing your neck as she whispered, "You're going to cum for me, aren't you?" It was a question, but there was no doubt in her tone.

You nodded, unable to form words as the pleasure mounted, threatening to overwhelm you. Emily's grip on your throat tightened slightly, a silent command to look at her as she took you over the edge. Your eyes widened as your climax approached your body tightening around the silicone cock.

"Emily, please," you managed to choke out, the desperation in your voice clear. "I need to feel you cum in me."

Her eyes darkened at the words, and she leaned in closer, her breath hot against your skin. "You want it that badly?" she whispered, her hips grinding into you.

You could only nod, the anticipation of her release almost too much to bear. Emily’s eyes searched yours, a silent question before she leaned down and whispered, "You’re going to feel every drop of me filling you up, baby. You’re going to be so full."

Her words sent you over the edge. Your orgasm was intense, your vision swimming with stars as wave after wave of pleasure washed over you. You could feel Emily’s own excitement in her tightened grip, her hips moving faster as she watched you come apart beneath her. It was as if your pleasure fuelled hers, her thrusts becoming more urgent, more demanding.

As your climax subsided, she leaned in to kiss you, her breath ragged and her eyes bright with desire. But she didn’t stop moving, the toy still buried deep inside you. The feeling of fullness remained, a delicious reminder of your shared fantasy.

Emily’s kisses grew more tender, her movements slowing to a gentle rocking that kept the pleasure simmering without letting it boil over again. Each thrust was deliberate, drawing out every sensation, making you feel cherished and owned. It was a tender domination that made you melt into the mattress beneath her.

With surprising grace, she shifted your positions so that you were both laying on your sides, the silicone cock still buried deep within you. Your legs tangled together, her hand still resting on your throat, but now with a gentle, soothing pressure that was a contrast to the intensity of moments ago. Her thumb brushed your jawline, turning your face towards her, her eyes searching yours.

Then, she leaned in and captured your lips in a slow, sensual kiss. It was a kiss filled with everything unsaid, everything felt but not voiced. Her tongue danced with yours, a dance that was both sweet and demanding.

The kiss lingered, slower now but just as intense, a way to ground yourselves after the chaos of the case. Emily’s hands slid over your back, holding you close, and you let yourself sink into her, feeling the tension in your body finally ease. The weight of everything—the long hours, the children’s faces, the endless cycle of chasing darkness—seemed to lift with each shared breath.

When the high broke, it was like coming up for air after being submerged for too long. Both of you stilled, breathless and spent, bodies still tangled together as the energy between you shifted into something gentler, softer. Emily rested her head on your shoulder, her arms wrapped tightly around your waist, as though letting go might bring the world crashing back in. Her fingers moved absently along your skin, a grounding motion more for her than for you.

You turned slightly to look at her, brushing a strand of hair away from her face. Her dark eyes met yours, no longer guarded. There was a softness in her expression she rarely let anyone see—a vulnerability reserved for you alone. It was a part of Emily she kept locked away, buried beneath layers of composure and strength, but here, in the quiet of your shared sanctuary, she let you see it.

“I needed that,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper, yet it carried the weight of her exhaustion. “I needed you.”

Your heart ached at the honesty in her words, and you reached out, running a hand along her arm. “I’m here,” you said simply but with conviction. “I’m always here, Emily.”

She sighed, her body sinking further against yours as though your words had given her permission to let go. “It’s just… too much sometimes,” she murmured, her voice cracking slightly. “The cases, the victims, the choices we have to make. I keep it together out there, but when it’s over, it feels like it’s all going to crush me.”

Your chest tightened at her admission. Emily rarely talked about the toll the job took on her—not with anyone else, not even with the team. But with you, she let the walls come down, piece by piece. You cupped her face gently, guiding her to meet your gaze.

“It doesn’t have to crush you,” you said, your tone soft but firm. “You don’t have to carry it alone. Let me help. Lean on me, Emily. Please.”

Her jaw tightened, and for a moment, you thought she might push back, but then her face crumpled just slightly, and she nodded. “I don’t know what I’d do without you,” she whispered, her voice unsteady. “You’re the only one I can… let this out with.”

“You won’t have to find out,” you assured her, leaning in to press a kiss to her forehead. “I’m not going anywhere. I’ve got you.”

Emily’s hand settled on your hip, her thumb brushing lazily against your skin. The tension that had held her body rigid for hours finally began to ebb. She exhaled slowly, her breath warm against your neck, as though releasing the weight she had carried all day.

For a long while, neither of you spoke, the room quiet except for the sound of your breathing. The case, the emotions, the burden of it all—it wasn’t gone, but it felt lighter now. You could feel it in the way her body relaxed against yours, the way her hand stopped fidgeting and simply rested on you, the way her breathing evened out.

You pulled her closer, holding her as tightly as she held you, grounding her in the present. “You’re safe,” you murmured softly. “We’re safe. Just us.”

Emily lifted her head slightly, her dark eyes meeting yours again. The gratitude in her expression was so raw, so unguarded, it made your breath catch. She leaned in and kissed you again—not out of passion, but something deeper. It was a kiss of trust, of love, of everything she couldn’t quite put into words but poured into you all the same.

When she pulled back, she rested her forehead against yours, her fingers tangling with yours. “Thank you,” she said quietly, her voice steadier now.

“You don’t have to thank me,” you replied, brushing your thumb over her knuckles. “This is what we do for each other. I’m here, Emily. I always will be.”

She smiled faintly, the first genuine smile you’d seen from her since the case had started. “I’m holding you to that.”

“You should,” you teased lightly, earning a soft laugh from her. It was quiet, but it was real, and it was everything.

The two of you stayed like that for a while, wrapped up in each other. No barriers, no walls, just the safety of knowing you didn’t have to face the world alone. And in that moment, nothing else mattered.

[73-advocate]

‼️🛑 Don’t ignore this. Please help my autistic child live a normal life and help my family survive death. Hello, I am Doaa from Gaza 🍉. I apologize for what I'm about to ask. I have a heavy and tired heart. Unfortunately, the situation became difficult after I left Gaza, and I did not receive any assistance to treat my child and help us live except through you and your donations. . A donation of just $20 from each person, $20 will save my child and my family in Gaza. $20 equals 220 Swedish krona. I lost my home, my workplace, everything, and I don’t know whether or not I will bear all this responsibility outside Gaza to help my child and my family, but I know that your help will contribute to saving my child and my family. Sorry about all this.

HELP DOOA AND HER SON

please, only a minute of your time.

Dooa is a grieving and tired Palestinian mother taking care of her son, Omar, who is non-verbal and only 5 years old. They have escaped Gaza and now are residing in Egypt, but the rest of her family are left in Gaza.

Before the genocide, she used to run an embroidery business, she is restarting it again to raise funds for the rest of her family’s escape and for the safety of her child and herself. She was able to buy a sewing machine with the funds she’d raised, now we just need a little more so that she could reunite with her family and give her son a proper education.

I can only imagine how difficult it is to run a business alone and managing an autistic child. Please lend your support and donate atleast 40 dollars, that much is enough.

more info is on @dodoomar12345’s pinned posts and reblogs. take note that this is a verified campaign.

and please, go to my blog to reblog gofundmes that aid in the relief of gaza victims and donate there.

[sayruq]

Hi world, it’s Eman Please read this as if I’m a member of your family, may be your sister , daughter or a friend and as if my family who’s under death now is yours.Today, I reach out with a heavy heart and a place for your kindness and support . I am not just seeking to fundraise. I am seeking to save the lives of my beloved family members who are currently trapped in a nightmare. All of whom depend on your generosity to escape Gaza Strip to Egypt , get the medical help needed and begin a new life where we are seeking safety. This is me Eman

My name is Eman , a girl in her thirties (39- years old) and a computer science graduate .Iam speaking from the heart of Gaza, a place that was once vibrant with life and has now become painfully marked by the effects of wars that spared no war. I live with my mother, Etemad (60 years old ) and my father, Saed (70 years old . My mother and my father

My sister Khaleda is ( 41 years old ) She has four children. Three sons .Saed ,3 years old. Abdul Rahman, 5 years old ,and Adam, 9 years old .Her daughter, Lyan, is (4 years old) .

Khaleda's Children

Iam suffering of one of the most common generic disorders which is thalassaemia. It’s so tiring and difficult disease. And due to the war, I lack medical care and treatments. My health is getting worse and deteriorating as treatment became insufficient. Iam in need to plasma exchange regularly ,the thing that my family find so difficult because of blockage and destruction of hospitals , in addition to the risks of going out our shelters every day as the bombs everywhere . My family deserve the opportunity to live a full life. I can’t bear the thought of losing any member of them.

My father, Saed, is suffering from heart disease .He has blockage of the heart arteries . Doctors advised him not to expose himself to the news and events that affect his mental and physical health. He urgently needs to undergo the necessary tests and surgery.

My mother, Etemad, has chronic diseases (blood pressure and diabetes ) . She needs regular follow up and medical treatment .She is struggling to obtain the necessary medications , waiting too long in clinics for subpar alternatives if found.

My family and I were very close knit enjoying simple pleasure and cherishing moment together. Now all that remains are memories scattered among the rubble of our destroyed home in Gaza. We witnessed death with our own eyes and were forced to flee our home in fear of our lives .During this time , we also received the news of the deaths of several relatives and friends due to indiscriminate bombardments. Now, I find Myself with my family displaced in a plastic tent in Al-Zawaydah , our last refuge, living inhuman conditions and enduring unimaginable hardships along the way.

We’re currently sleeping on the ground in a tent that does not protect us from the heat of summer or the cold of winter . We are located there ,with no access to essential items like clean drinking water , electricity , healthy food and cooking gas .Death and destruction followed us everywhere , Our home was bombed and bulldozed and our hopes and dreams were shattered along with it .We are enduring a suffering that is beyond anything you can imagine. Me with my family are in a very critical situation in tents .Tasks are divided among us to sustain ourselves. My father fetches water if ever found from a distant area early every morning. My mother cooks and washes our clothes using traditional methods .This is why we are asking for your help, as we are still in danger in South Gaza and can’t receive the medical care needed. Our new life in tents

Since the beginning of Israel’s assault on Gaza, we were forced to evacuate several times leaving behind our home and the future we had been working towards. Walking without carrying our personal belongings, our clothes or even money in search of a safe place until we managed to escape to the south of Gaza Strip .

Gaza, a place that I call home has been transformed into a landscape of destructions and despair . The reality we live in is one of the constant fear, where the sounds of explosions drown out the dreams and aspirations of its people .In what seems like an instant , everything my family and I held there had been ripped away by the chaos of war . A side of our suffering in tents

This campaign is not just about escaping Gaza. It’s about reclaiming a future where my family can live without the shadow of fear , where we can get the medical care and treatment needed and where we can once again embrace the joys of life without grief . The price of leaving Gaza is high and far beyond my family means. so I have initiated this fundraising campaign to urgently gather funds to help my family leave Gaza as soon as possible. The funds collected will be carefully allocated for the following purposes: Firstly , it will contribute to providing a safe passage to Egypt , which is a vital step for the family’s safety. Secondly: covering the medical treatment. Costs and medications for me , my father and my mother . In addition to the need for comprehensive examinations in Egypt to ensure our safety after the war. Thirdly : the funds will be allocated to provide temporary accommodation for the family in Egypt, giving them stability and the opportunity to explore the best path for their future . Finally , it will cover initial living expenses in Egypt granting the family the time and space needed to relax and rebuild their lives after the ordeal of the genocide in Gaza .

Eman's family has only raised $610 USD out of $50,000 goal. Please support the family by sharing. Donate if you can

[imdumbhi]

𝘗𝘳𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘺 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘴,

summary: You save her life and from there, it went all down hill.

pairings: Mizu x reader

warnings: angst, fluff, no nsfw

a/n: hellooo, this is long. i hope you enjoy!

***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***

Red splatters upwards from your lips as you laid on your back on the snow. You can feel your back drench and cold. It’s not comfortable but who cares when you have a sword sticking out of your stomach.

“What did you do?!” It’s Mizu, she hovers above you, her hands shaking slightly at the sight of blood everywhere. You take notice, as you gaze up at her weakly, her orange lenses are no longer sitting on the bridge of her nose and you think, how beautiful her eyes are even as she’s crying.

Wait, why is she crying?

A pair of hands grab at your barley conscious face, forcing your body upwards into her arms and you feel yourself become limp. You hum softly in content knowing you will die in someone’s arms but Mizu isn’t just someone — you love her.

It’s a secret you kept from the samurai and you vowed to yourself to never reveal it once you realized. It was when you first spotted her walking the streets of your village and thinking to yourself, how odd. You remember watching her closely, her tall figure mysteriously hidden and guarded. What caught your eye was the sword hanging by her hip.

Taking the risk, you decided that it would be a great idea to approach her. Even if it meant putting yourself in danger. When you did, you can’t forget how her face looked baffled and confused.

She disliked you at first, it sucked because Mizu didn’t give you a chance of day. She kept her distance and made no sign of interest getting to know you. But you on the other hand did wonder about who she was. Who is Mizu? Where did she come from? Did she still have a father? Mother? Question after question, you almost got your hopes up. Then that completely changed when you first looked into those blue eyes and saw her naked body at the waterfall that one time.

You begin to see Mizu slowly lowering her guard around you, the woman even engaged in conversations between you and Ringo. Mizu could be mean, could be sarcastic, and a complete jerk but that sacred smile of hers always made up for it. But your favorite thing about her is when her blue eyes shine when she laughs at your stupid jokes.

Oh, how pretty she is.

Your tired eyes gaze up at her face again, you see those sad teary blue eyes staring right back at you, your fingers itch to smooth away the line between her brows.

You want to tell her not to be sad, to tell her this isn’t over and that all will be fine.

“…please, don’t you dare die on me…” Her voice sounds far away now.

Is this the end?

***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***

The smell of tea wakes you up.

Eyes shoot open, quick to take in your surroundings and you see a dark sky. The crackling and popping comes from somewhere near you. You go to sit up but a loud groan escapes your lips instead, intense pain striking from your stomach.

“Don’t move,” the voice demanded coldly and you turn your head to look, finding Mizu cross legged on the ground beside you, her back facing towards you. “You’ll end up messing up your stitches.”

The fire in front of her dances quietly with the occasional popping.

You open your mouth to speak but your throat is dry and the taste of metal is on your tongue. Distracted by the pain from your stomach and a dry throat, a cup of hot steaming tea is presented in front of you. You don’t look Mizu’s way as it nears your lips helping you take small sips.

When you’ve had enough, feeling satisfied, you ask, “What happened?” Mizu scoffs, your confuse eyes move over to her when she does. You see that her back is facing towards you again. “Mizu?” Your tone is scratchy.

Mizu doesn’t answer. You huff in annoyance at her behavior and lay there silently. If she wants to play the quiet game then you’ll play the quiet game. Mizu did this anytime she was not in the mood but you spotted a difference. It was way too quiet and Mizu wasn’t moving an inch.

“Mizu.” You try again, concern lingering in your tone now. “What is it?” You should’ve known that was a stupid question to ask when Mizu stood up abruptly and turn around to face you.

“Are you stupid?” You flinch when she asks you. Her tone is harsh and she’s glaring daggers at you. You haven’t been in this position since you almost injured yourself by approaching a wild horse when you tried to impress Mizu. Not one of your proudest moments.

“Master.” Another voice cuts in, catching Mizu attention. Ringo appears from the right holding a bag of sorts and you watch as he sends his master a look that you can’t seem to understand. They stare at each other, almost like a staring contest. Eventually, Mizu huffs in defeat and excuses herself leaving off into the trees without another word.

“She’s upset with me.” You stated after a couple of minutes, staring at where Mizu has disappeared off to.

“Yes.” Ringo answered simply. He sets his bag down by his legs, his big hands fishing inside his bag. “You almost died.” Your breath hitch, what did he say?

That’s when everything came back. From jumping in front of Mizu to getting stabbed and ending it with you drifting off into the darkness. Your eyes stay on him, watching him move around the fire, prepping and humming softly to himself.

You still don’t understand. Still confused, you inform him, “Ringo, I saved her life. I really don’t understand-”

“You almost died.” Ringo repeats again like it means something. Like it’s supposed to mean something. Like its the most obvious thing in the world but when he looks up at you and catches you staring at him like an idiot, his lips curl up and he goes back to humming.

You groan at his antics and lay your head back down, staring up at the dark sky with a pout. You decide to shut your eyes and collect your thoughts. Even as the pain in your stomach is already distracting enough, you see a pair of sad blue eyes full of tears flash in your mind and you feel a different type of pain that didn’t come from your stomach injury.

It takes an hour for Mizu to come back.

“Master! Welcome back. The food is ready.”

Reopening your eyes, you pick up your head and see Mizu approaching Ringo who is already handing a bowl of noodles over to her. She accepts it and completely ignores you as she retakes her seat by the fire.

You feel hurt but you are distracted when Ringo approaches you with two bowls of noodles. He sets them aside and helps you sit up carefully so you are leaning back against a wall. You grunt quietly in pain and he then offers you a bowl with a pity smile.

You accept it with a quiet, ‘thank you.’

In silence, did you all eat.

***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***

It takes one to two months for you to completely heal. That’s what Ringo tells you anyway. You try not to be too bothered by it and act like everything is fine, even if the pain can be unbearable sometimes. You don’t want anyone to assume you can’t continue on. But did it really matter when Mizu still continues to ignore you?

Yeah, she still upset. Two whole weeks of no words exchanged. Two whole weeks of Mizu being the biggest asshole. Two whole weeks of Mizu pretending you don’t exist. Two whole weeks and you feel yourself doubting that you ever had a chance to be with her to begin with.

You feel like you are waiting for something that’s not there. Everything you worked hard for to get a glimpse of Mizu has been thrown down a drain. You miss gazing into those blue eyes, it brought comfort in ways that you couldn’t explain. You miss the small touches and lingering looks, it felt like you lost her. There’s no hand offering you a chance anymore, it’s non existent.

Then Taigen comes back.

You don’t like him. You don’t like his personality or his attitude, or his appearance. There is nothing to like about him. Unfortunately, Mizu thinks otherwise. When he comes back you catch how Mizu lips form into a small smile, standing to her feet and greeting him in a soft tone. You have to force yourself to look away whenever his hand lingers in hers.

You and Taigen exchange a few greetings but nothing more. You figure Taigen knows about your feelings towards him whenever he tries to spike up a conversation and you leave him hanging. You won’t waste any time getting to know someone like him. Mizu might be okay with him being around but you aren’t.

“Are you hungry?” Ringo is offering you a rice ball as you both walk side by side while Taigen and Mizu walk ahead. You hear him yet your eyes are train on their hands, watching how they almost brush against each other’s and every time they might bump into one another, it leaves you grumbling underneath your breath.

“What are you saying?” You feel Ringo lean closer to you, his hand cupping his ear.

“Nothing.” You murmur, your lips formed in a frown. Ringo shrugs his shoulders and starts humming again, his feet waddling off ahead. You are left behind and you don’t mind.

You take the time to scan your surroundings, snow covered the ground like a blanket, animals hidden in hibernation and tall trees standing with a little sparkle of snow sprinkled on top. You think back when you were a little kid and how your uncle took you outside just to sit to admire what’s around you.

Speaking of your uncle, you thought back to how those summer nights ended with him drinking his sorrows away. You were young to see pass his harsh words and violent acts, you laid in bed at night wondering what could possibly turn him into that. What was it? Then you found out later as you grew, your uncle was in love but betrayed.

Would you end up drinking away your sorrows too? Get harsh and get violent because the one person you want is avoiding you like the plague? No, of course not. Your uncle took his last breath not knowing that true love came with a price.

“How’s that stab wound looking?” Taigen snaps you out of your day dreaming and you narrow your brows at him, irritated by him. “Mizu told me what happened,” He thinks to include which makes it worse because she can talk about you but won’t talk to you.

“It’s fine.” You give him little.

“Hm, you don’t look fine.” He points out.

You sigh again, turning your head away from him hoping he would leave you alone.

“Look, I know you don’t like me,” He starts making you groan. “I get if it’s because you care about Mizu feelings but she can handle herself.” You want to punch him. “Besides, she doesn’t need anyone by her side trying to defend her all the time. Like how you jump in front of-”

You don’t give him a chance to finish his sentence because you’re already excusing yourself to use the bathroom somewhere deep within the trees.

The snow beneath you crunches every step you take, you think angrily how he could so easily bring up something that meant everything to you. Even if Mizu did not see the incident as nothing, it still mattered to you. You risked your life for her. You would gladly do it again.

As you stop your feet, you glance around the forest and the color white is all that anyone could see standing here. Your hand comes down to the hem of your shirt, raising it and studying the healing wound. Your shaking fingers trace the outline, feeling its tender skin.

You don’t regret it. You remind yourself that you don’t care what anyone has to say about it. Yes, you were nearly killed but you’re alive, still breathing. Although, the pain in your stomach hurts terribly and the sight of it leaving you insecure, you can’t stop the tears from falling.

Are you crying about the injury or are you crying because you can’t stop seeing that flash of sad blue eyes peering down at you that day? You aren’t sure anymore.

You thought back to your uncle, is this how he felt? Did his mind flood with his lover? Did they fill up his mind until he couldn’t breathe anymore? It still hurts. Everything about this whole situation hurts and you aren’t sure if you can accept what’s happen, happened.

Then the sound of a branch snapping somewhere near by makes you jump and look around. You search around for the cause of the noise but find no one around. You take another long moment to collect yourself and made sure you aren’t red in the face when you arrive back with the others.

Unaware, a blue figure in the distant hides behind a tree, having watched everything unfold.

***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***

A familiar grunt behind you makes you look over your shoulder away from the horses behind the gate and see Mizu standing there. She isn’t wearing her wide hat, her orange lenses or her cloak. Her sword however is still in its hilt wrapped around her hips.

“You should be resting.” Is the first thing that comes from her mouth. Internally, you are screaming because how dare she approach you after three and half weeks of not speaking to you.

You turn your body around, leaning your back comfortably against the gate and giving Mizu a dry look. You want to be the one to avoid her now and treat her how she’s been treating you but you aren’t childish. You won’t allow Mizu to make you fear from expressing how you feel. At least not about your love for her. Not yet.

“Now you talk to me.” Mizu makes a face, her eyes dangerously narrowing at you. You ignore it. “I mean, you really had me in a choke hold,” You laugh and it’s not a happy one. “You had me spinning around in circles trying to figure out why you were avoiding me and up onto now, I still have no fucking idea.” You sound harsh now. Your emotions are on sky rocket and you feel deep within yourself that you should probably keep quiet before your other feelings accidentally come out.

“What did I do?” Your voice broke when you ask and you didn’t intent to sound like that but you are tired and done. You need to know. You need to fix this. You need to keep Mizu by your side even if she doesn’t return your feelings. Having her as a friend is better than not having her at all. “Please, what did I do?”

The sounds of horses huffing and stomping behind the gate is all you can hear from behind you. Mizu seems to be choosing her words carefully, her eyes drawn to the ground and her fists at her sides, clenching and unclenching. You want to reach over and take her hand, squeeze it to reassure her that whatever it is, she can tell you. You can take it.

“You should go back home.” Her cold demeanor comes back and you are lost for words. “I don’t need you anymore. In fact, I don’t need you at all.” Mizu tells you, her eyes never meeting yours and looking right past you. “Go home, Y/N.” It’s the last thing Mizu says as she takes a step back, never once meeting your hurt expression.

Can you take it after all?

No. No, you can’t.

“You’re a fucking coward!” You spit out, hot tears streaming down your cheeks.

Mizu freezes in her steps.

“If you’re upset about what happened to me and you think it’s your fault, you’re even dumber than you look.” You continue on, your hands are shaking and your stomach hurts from trying to breathe through your tears. “I knew what I was getting into when I first met you. I knew,” You sniff, wiping at your eyes. “What I didn’t know was how you would treat me after saving your life-”

“I didn’t need you to do that!” Mizu cuts you off, spinning around and angrily walking up to you. You lean further back into the gate when Mizu is close enough that you can spot the tears forming in the corner of her eyes. “You nearly died in my arms! Can’t you get that?” You stare wide eyed, no thoughts in your head, only the feeling of shock. “I almost lost you and I can’t live with that. I can’t live in a world where there’s no you in it.”

It’s a confession without saying so much.

Your heart races fast inside your rib cage at her choice of words. Mizu was scared. Of course, you thought. How stupid can you be? She was only upset because you couldn’t see that. You were too preoccupied by your own feelings, you never thought that once Mizu could feel the same way. You think you might cry some more because you can feel it building in your throat.

“So, go home. I’ll feel better knowing you are safe home.” Mizu says dryly, turning around and going to leave you again. Except, this time, you aren’t going to let her. You had to do something and fast. So, your hand reaches out grabbing Mizu by her wrist, stopping her.

Mizu breath hitches, you can see how her shoulders tense up at your touch. When she looks down at your hand wrapped around her wrist, Mizu takes a second and at that instant, her blue eyes look up to meet yours. No words are needed exchanged between the two of you as you tug on her wrist towards you.

Mizu lets herself be brought closer, her body brushing against your own. Swallowing roughly at how close she is, your hand on her wrist slides up her arm, to her shoulder and to the back of her neck. Not once does Mizu shrug you off or look the other way — her blue eyes are watching your every move carefully. And when you risk taking a step closer, your chest fully pressing against her own, you struggle to maintain eye contact.

What should you do next?

“Y/N?” Mizu questions you, her eyes flickering between your eyes and down at your mouth, her tone below a whisper.

“Please don’t make me go.” It’s a plead.

Mizu wordlessly leans down, her nose pressing against yours. You freeze completely, the outside world around you becoming still. Mizu eyes flutter closed as she pushes against your nose some more, almost like she’s silently asking permission to kiss you.

Wait, what?

Her hands are tightly at your hips, squeezing and tugging gently. You think you may faint. You know she’s even more impatient when she moves her hands from your hips and up to cradle your face. Your face flushes deeply feeling her rough skin holding your face, gently guiding your lips near her desperate ones.

“Please.” Mizu finally breaks the tension.

You run your tongue over your dry lips and leaned forward connecting your lips with Mizu’s. Soft at first, two mouths slowly moving together, hesitant but sort of needy. You can’t help the small noises you make when her mouth opens a little wider, her tongue meeting yours. The kiss intensifies when Mizu starts moaning and drops her hands to your hips, pulling you tightly against her.

Unfortunately, you pull back with a hiss breaking the kiss. You don’t see Mizu chasing after your lips until she realizes why you pulled away, her eyes growing worry. “I’m sorry. I forgot that you’re still hurt.” Mizu apologizes, going to take a step back from you but you don’t let her.

“It’s okay, really.” You reassure Mizu, your arms tightening around her neck, not wanting to ever let her go. The dark haired girl huffs, mumbling something under her breath and you chuckle at her.

“What?” She says sounding half annoyed. Her pupils are blown and her hooded blue eyes are no longer light but dark.

“Nothing,” You smile brightly, leaning close to kiss the corner of her mouth.

Mizu blinks, her cheeks turning pink.

“Whoa.” Another voice cuts in.

Both heads snap to their right and see Ringo beside Taigen, standing only a few feet away. The two men stand there with their mouths hung open in disbelief.

Mizu, annoyed by their interruption, scolds at them with a sneer. She takes a step back from you, her hands lingering at your waist, when the two turn around and run off.

“Fools.”

[fakescenariosbeforesleepblog]

Have you had enough?

Targaryen reader x Aemond Targaryen x Aegon Targaryen.

Your husband and brother, Aemond, have been taking everything that belonged to Aegon. You're tired of it, the drop that spilled the glass was Aegon's incident. Your brother, the one who you actually love, badly injured, that was the end of your patience.

Warning ⚠️: Credits of this images goes to whoever they belong to, I took them from the Tumblr blogs: bbygirl-aemond / Winterswake/ tarth. Grammatical and spelling errors, I haven't watched this chapter of HOTD yet, I just needed to take the idea out of my mind so I can continue with a new chapter of the story (By fire and heart).

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used nor do I claim to own them.

Everybody running and walking from one room to another, you didn't understand at first why all the scandal until you saw a group of guards carrying your brother.

Aegon and you were close, spending much time together which your mother clearly didn't see with good eyes, you loved him in the way you couldn't love your husband.

Aemond took you as a wife and treated you with respect but not love, he never loved you, he simply took you because both were single and your little brother was far away from home to save you from that terrible unhappy marriage, it was only you and him, when he heard about your little secret romance with Aegon, he made you his wife before you could dishonor yourself that was his argument, but the truth was he did it for the simple fact to not give Aegon the satisfaction to also be the owner of you, or your body, silly Aemond never thought what actually mattered it was your heart, Aegon was deep inside your heart. A thousand men could be between your legs but only one could have your heart, loyalty and devotion.

You walked behind the guards questioning what happened. None of them could answer you, once they're in the king's chambers, one of the masters asks you to not interfere and wait out of the room.

- My princess, please you have to wait and let us work. In your conditions the least you need is stress.

You're going to respond when you see Aemond walking inside, he doesn't even stop to see you, you're sure he didn't listen to what the master told you, he walks directly to Aegon's bed. You walk and stay behind him, your tears falling as soon as you see your beloved brother, his precious face now half burned as much as the rest of his body, you're sure Aemond was behind all that, you left the room looking for Ser Criston, you found him on the way to your mother's chambers.

- What happened?

- My princess, I don't know, everything was fast, I just saw the king and his dragon falling.

- Don't dare to lie to me. Did my husband have something to do with this?

He doesn't talk but silently nod at you. Your body is burning with rage, you're furious you would love to burn your husband alive. His thirst for... power? Revenge for the traumas of childhood? Whatever it was, has taken it too far. Your nephews death and now your brother fighting for his life, Rhaenyra claiming the throne, dealing with a war and the pain of her newborn and Lucerys deaths, the poor Helaena trying to accept her son's death too and now carrying with a husband who probably will end as your father ended, in that bed looking the days and nights go until the gods have mercy and let him die.

You've been avoiding Aemond since they arrived, you spent much of your time with Aegon, Helaena doesn't complain, she's okay with it, she always knew your feelings for her husband, she's glad you're taking care of him and occasionally visit the king's chambers to help you or at least to talk with you. Even your mother visited Aegon, but there were no signs of Aemond.

Until one evening, you were holding Aegon's hand, whispering something close enough to him hoping he somehow could listen to what you were sharing with him, when the doors of his room opened, you did not see him but you were sure it was Aemond for the sound of his boots on the floor, you know his way to walk by heart.

- Ao spend olvie jēda kesīr (you spend much time here)

- Se ao spend olvie jēda sitting va zȳhon dēmalion (And you spend much time sitting on his throne)

You don't Even look at him, you're still holding Aegon's hand, contemplating what once was his face.

- Perhaps my wife could support me as much as she's supporting our brother. Your devotion to him is admirable, but it's what I'm expecting you to give me, not to him.

- Why would I support you? All the atrocities you've been causing and you expect me to congratulate you, to love you?

- Are you accusing me of something, wife?

His jaw tensed, his eye looks at you full of anger.

- Don't pretend you're innocent, I know you. You always wanted to take Aegon's place. You always take what is not yours, tell me husband, have you had enough? What else do you want?

Before he can argue again, Aegon opens his eyes, with the few strength he still has, he squeezes your hand.

Aemond notices it and pushes you aside, he starts to talk with Aegon, asking him what he remembers, he insists it wasn't his dragon who attacked him. Aegon simply says he doesn't remember anything, but you know he's lying, Aegon always has been good to keep himself safe, his facility to preserve his own survival and right now his only chance to survive it was to pretend he did not remember what happened.

Aemond was not going to leave the discussion in the air. He left but you're sure he will be back to try to make you regret your accusations.

Just as you predicted, At the hour of the owl, he appeared in your chambers, you were awake, looking through your window, you know how much he hates your indifference against him.

- So, what else will you take from our brother this time?

You say without any worry. Aemond walks until he's right behind you, you can feel his jaw against your head.

- What he expected to claim too. You.

He whispered while placing his hands around your waist, you couldn't contain your laughing, Aemond confusion made it harder to keep. You laughed loudly on his face, you are now face to face with your husband, he has never seen that look, your eyes darkened and your smile was full of evil, giving him a small kiss on the lips, murmuring almost whispering.

- Oh Aemond, do you seriously think I was still a pure untouched little princess?

He stepped back, his face doesn't show any emotion but you can feel his blood boiling.

- I am pregnant.

- Liar. I made everything to be sure he would not put a finger on you.

- Ask the master, I'm waiting for my first child.

Seeing his body tensed and full of anger brings you a new kind of feeling, it's an addictive pleasure you didn't know could exist.

-You know what makes it funnier? Even if one day I have your child, he will be just like you.

- What do you mean?

- A Second son who will not inherit anything. Or even better you will never have a child with me because I will prefer to be burned alive before giving birth to your children.

He quickly takes you by the neck and slams you against the wall, pressing his body against yours, even with the lack of air in your lungs, the pleasure of seeing him frustrated makes you feel alive, excited. He released you and left the room without saying more.

Once you take some air, you smile to yourself, your husband and his poor try to keep you away from Aegon, expecting to have you all for himself, but not even your body belongs to Aemond, he never thought he would be so frustrated about such a little thing like that, not having your love or your respect was the last thing he thought he would care about, the last thing he would desire to have more than anything else.