#and like no I have always been like this since I was a child��

[otaku553]

I got a haircut today and I’m so giddy about it,,,, it is so difficult to explain to my mom why I feel so giddy about the undercut sideburns I got

[eccentricallygothic]

Divorced Dad!Captain Syverson who experiences a real time brain short-circuit when he sees how well you get along with his kids during your first meeting with them… 

Warning(s): Breeding kink, size kink, old man!Sy, age gap, manhandling, groping, fluff, boob play, unprotected p-in-v, I added plot to it TT. MDNI.

. . . 

After the messy divorce that followed his turbulent marriage, Sy was not looking forward to any relations with the opposite sex, if possible. With his former profession a constant hurdle to his life as part of a unionized pair and marital bliss, what had started as a promising relationship had turned out to be one of those unfortunate marriages where children were sought as a last resort to perhaps save the remnants of the already rotten love between man and wife. Though being someone from a background that held family in the highest esteem and always having been fond of the idea of his own lot, Sy loved his children more than life itself and there was not a thing in the world he would trade for them. And that was the reason why he had preferred to opt for an early retirement so custody would not be an issue between him and his ex-wife who was more than eager to shed off everything affiliated with the name Syverson like an illness.

You, on the other hand, though not much experienced with the opposite sex were not too warm to the idea of children. Being a student in her last year of higher education and only so old as you were, your attitude hardly deserved to be subjected to scrutiny. That, and the fact that you hadn't really had many young ones around you while growing up as an only child, calling you a foreigner to the scene would not qualify as an exaggeration and hence it can be said that it is more indifference than contempt on your part. 

So naturally, when it happened, it was strictly unplanned. And very fateful. With a rather traumatized Sy in a sort of an emotional limbo who had more than enough reason to keep to himself, and a stressed with soon approaching future endeavors as well as disillusioned with the opposite sex you, the night you had bumped into each other outside the bar restrooms where Sy had been dragged to cheer up by his friends and you to loosen up by yours, the rather fast yet steady rate at which the two of you had woven into each other had been unexpected to say the least. 

But now, as Sy fires up the grill in his backyard to begin the little BBQ he has planned for today when you meet his children for the first time, the prided and much experienced grill expert nearly burns his hand because he is so busy inwardly fawning over how quickly his rugrats have warmed up to you. And you, Sy will swear on anything that you are just the most perfect woman— person alive. Everything is just right with you. Even on days when the world seems to press down on him, your mere presence is there to help his spirits back up and elate as well as support him in every sense.

Though he had been honest about his condition since the beginning, after his initial reluctance to get with you as you were so much younger and inexperienced compared to him, children weren't peculiarly a topic that came up between the two of you except occasions where Sy wanted to share a little victory or rant with you. So as you keep his toddler on one hip with a protective arm around her, your perfect body -Sy's words- clad in a bonny bright coloured sundress, and hold the hand of his 5 year old who excitedly shows you around the mini patio of the modern farmhouse, memories of his own mother scarce if any, your making conversation with the boy and giggling along to his lisp droning flutters Sy's heart in a way that he thought he had outgrown. 

It also excites him with a kind of boyish heat that the former military Captain had thought he had shed off with his adolescent youth.

And so he just has to have you by yielding to a similar impatience and desperation, the musical sound of your giggles faintly fluttering its melodies upon his flush and thumping ears as he gets to it.

“God, Sy!” The huff in your words fires him up even more and he cannot hold back any longer. “You’re such a brute!” His coarse and scarred paws heavily pull at your dress with a crazed desperation to help you find the restroom, as he had told one of the farm hands that he had left the children under. “Oof!” The whine you let out before instinctively craning your head to try and ease the way his thick beard tickles the tender skin of the curve of your neck makes him growl into your carotid pulse that he worships with his hot lips, the pressure of your pressing your face into his as well as the soft pants you let out, your chest bumping into his with each heave of your lungs, only lithifies his bulging erection even more. 

“Gon' fatten up your pretty lil’ pussy with my cum, baby” Sy's breaths scorch your clammy skin with their burning weight. His hands grope and expose you everywhere they can reach, and they can do so everywhere because of how much smaller hence ragdoll-like you are compared to him. “Wouldja like that, angel?” Your eyes roll to the back of your head when he boosts your thighs up his tall legs and around his waist, the fat and leaking tip of his cock grazing against your holes from how he is kissing you everywhere he can reach. “Me stuffing that cute tummy full of siblings for Tim and Bethy, huh?” You know he would never actually do something as serious so callously without a prior discussion so you breathlessly nod, pushing your oral muscles to gulp down the thick bile in your throat and tip your head against the wall to prepare yourself to withstand his intrusion of your pussy that thanks to his girth always feels like not only your first time with him but your very deflowering in general.

 “Yes” your mouth falls open as he reaches below the hold with which he has your whole body propped up. “Yes, please~” his balmy tip finds its destination in the tiny, drenched and quivering closed up band that leads to your reproductive cavern. “Please fimme with your babies, Sy~” when the stretch makes your tiny hole burn around his girth, your mouth lets loose all the obscene words of vulgar desire. 

“Yeah, baby?” Sy's fingers flex over your ass and caress their way up your side before coming down and repeating the action, his thumb stealing strokes of your nipples as he does. “Wanna make me a Daddy, yeah?” A hiss leaves your mouth and your back arches at the feeling of your walls sheathing him deep within themselves. His breathtaking urgency nearly puts a dent in your innards. “Want me to make you all round and heavy here?” Your pussy clenches around the hilt of his cock when he suddenly gropes your naval into a greedy handful.

“Yes, please, Sy!” Your whole form bounces up in the air when the man gives you a thrust so powerful that has you mewling and digging your nails in his shoulders. “Wanna make you a Daddy so bad, Sy!” His dick has always had a hypnotic effect on you, for the minute it's in the vicinity of any of your holes, you become a brain dead parrot for him. 

“Atta girl~” he cooes, tossing your body further up with a strong stab of his hips so he can clamp his teeth down on one of your boobs.

MASTERLIST

. . . 

I am MAD for this man. Like I am not even hot on kids. WHAT—

[vividxpages]

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ "in the dead of night"･ﾟ✧*: ･ﾟ✧*

pairing: Jacaerys Velaryon x fem!Reader

words: 7000

summary: when Jace is attending a late council meeting, two hired assassins take their chance to sneak into your chambers and hold you captive. Taken to the dragon caves below and meant to be slain by your own betrothed’s dragon, you have to trust the bond between Vermax and you is strong enough to escape your captor’s murderous plans.

warnings: soft!reader, fluffy start but HEAVY angst (reader being held captive by two assassins similar to Blood and Cheese), physical violence (slapping, hair pulling), verbal abuse, threats of rape and violence, Vermax being Vermax and also protective of reader, hurt/comfort, shock and crying, Jacaerys being a caring betrothed, Rhaenyra being the best mother in law, aftermath of trauma, healing, hopeful ending

a/n: please mind the warnings for this story, it’s my angstiest so far! Big thanks to @princessvelaryon and @princesschimchim1325 for being awesome and inspiring me to write this!

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

You smiled to yourself as you held two small wooden figures in your hands, a princess and a prince, their hands linked together and small attires made of cotton and wool. When you were younger, you remembered playing with them for hours, creating little scenarios of the prince who might sweep you off your feet someday.

Now, many years later, you had found the love of your life in Prince Jacaerys.

Ever since your own parents had died too young, Jace’s family had welcomed you as if you were one of them by blood, making you a home at Dragonstone and accepting you with open arms as theirs. Perhaps, a huge part of it was because Rhaenyra’s oldest son had been in love with you ever since he had first laid eyes on you, but there was more to it. His mother adored you and you got alone with his siblings and cousins and brought a joy into their house that was much needed in those dark times of war.

This afternoon, you were sitting on the soft fur carpet in one of the big living rooms of the castle, Rhaenyra’s twins peacefully playing with their wooden toys all around you. Earlier, Baela and Rhaena had joined you for a chat and the newest gossip, but you didn’t mind being alone with the kids as well, your own inner child always coming down around their soft souls.

You let out a playful gasp as little Viserys assembled a row of knights on their horses along the imaginary street you had built together. “Are your noble knights going to a tournament, Vis?”

The boy nodded timidly at you, letting one of the horses gallop forward and making you laugh.

Your betrothed Jacaerys leaned against the doorframe and smiled softly as he watched you. Little Aegon had snuggled close to you and you helped Viserys move the toy carriage around the carpet.

You looked up as he pushed himself off the frame, walking towards you with pure adoration in his eyes. “Oh hello. I didn’t hear you enter.” You said, letting your hand be lifted by him so he could press a soft kiss against your knuckles.

Moving to stand and placing Aegon on the ground, he laid a hand on your shoulder, shaking his head. “I didn’t want to interrupt your play. What adventures is my princess going on today? Have my brothers been behaving?”

“They are the sweetest.” You told him in all honesty, your heart melting at the two little blond boys in front of you. Whenever you spent time with Jace’s smaller siblings, you could not help but notice how your heart expanded and spoke to a deep part in you that wished for children of your own someday. “We were playing a carriage ride to a tournament, I believe, but then a dragon escaped and now we have to look for him.”

Jace squatted down for a moment and handed Aegon a rattle shaped like the bell of a sept, which he immediately took with a toothless grin and tried out. You watched your betrothed with a soft heart and thought what a wonderful father he’d make…

“I dream of the day this will be our life someday.” He confessed to you, the corner of his plump lips lifting sadly. “When there is peace in the realm and we have time to take care of our future children together.”

“I wish for nothing else.” You replied softly, your heart blooming with love for him.

For a moment, Jacaerys looked as if he wanted to sit down and join you and his little brothers, but as you knew your hard-working betrothed all too well, he sighed and stood up again, careful not to step on the big skirts draped around you like a blooming flower.

“There will be a late council meeting this evening.” Jacaerys announced to you, his displeased expression betraying him. “Everyone of the council and the dragon keepers will sit together to discuss. I wouldn’t ask you to join us, it will be very boring and entirely unnecessary.”

You chuckled, knowing all too well how different Jace would do many things if his say in the matters of his mother would be of more weight. But at the same time, you were glad, Rhaenyra kept him sheltered and protected with you for now, at Dragonstone where it was the safest place for the future king and his queen.

“Will you come to bed later?” You asked shyly, although it was not uncommon for the prince and you to share a bed before your marriage had even been consummated.

A small and narrow passage connected your room to Jacaerys’ and you had often made use of it, whether you wanted someone to talk to before heading to bed or were in need of his warm embrace before you eventually drifted off into an innocent sleep together. When he was gone or bound to duties, you usually made yourself comfortable in his bed, but perhaps you’d return to your own tonight if the meeting was going to take a while before he’d be released.

Jacaerys smiled softly at you and nodded before he raised your hand towards his lips. “I will. Don’t stay up too late, I’ll be with you as soon as I can, I promise.”

You hummed pleased and let him kiss your knuckles. “I hope it won’t be too long. And don’t take their words to heart too much, Jace. You’re the prince and they’re lucky to have you.”

“It is me who is lucky to have you, my beloved.” He said and watched in delight as you blushed at his appreciation. “My safe haven, my light.”

Jacaerys leaned down, softly cupping your cheek before he gently kissed your lips, your back arching a little to reach him better. Your lips brushed tenderly against one another and you sighed in bliss at his open affections for you.

You smiled at him when you separated, squeezing his hand in yours. “I love you. I’ll see you later.”

“I love you.I’ll do my best to hurry.” He promised, hugging his little toddler brothers as well and softly stroking their hair before he departed. You sighed to yourself, eager to have the hours pass and let the two of you be reunited again as little Aegon presented you a wood dragon, silently asking you to rejoin their play..

“Alright, where were we, my princes?”

˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚

Being alone in your private chambers had become a rarity since you had been promised to Jacaerys.

You listened to the quietness of the room, the fire cackling in the pit as you sat on your bed and combed out your hair. You had taken a bath after bringing the princes to their nurseries and changed into something comfortable for the night.

The small evidence of Jace’s frequent visits to your room were visible all over the place. A cloak of his was thrown over one of your chairs by the fire and one of his books laid open by your desk. Even his smell still faintly clung to your pillows, a little gift from the last time he had fallen asleep here, not bothering to retreat back to his own chamber under your soft and lingering touches to his hair.

You could not even remember the last time the connecting door between your rooms had been closed.

You let out a small sigh as you sunk into bed, watching the dark outside of your window for a while. The council meeting must’ve been going on for a while now and you tried to read a few pages to keep you awake, not wanting to miss the moment Jace would come to you.

The time went by and your eyelids kept dropping.

But after a while, the door to your chamber opened and a wide smile split your face as you sat up in your bed, ready to welcome Jace back. Your hair fell over your shoulders, the blanket slipping down your body a little, but just a second later, everything in you froze to a stop.

Two men entered your room, their clothes dirty and faces dark as they took you in. These weren’t your guards and as one of them unsheathed a blade from his belt, you opened your mouth to scream.

They were on you in a heartbeat.

One of them drew the blankets off the bed while the other grabbed your hair, dragging you from the mattress and onto the floor, every sound in your throat seizing up and choked off by their sudden display of violence.

You were not a fighter, never had been. You stood no chance as they manhandled you in their middle, the taller one quickly looking over his shoulder as you struggled to no use against their tight grip.

“Look at that.” You heard close to your ear, the deep raspy voice sending shivers down your spine. “The bastard prince’s little bird, right between us. What would your man say now if he could see you like this, huh?”

You whimpered when your head was tugged back, the other gripping your wrists and making quick work of a tight rope around them, scratching over your soft skin and successfully binding you.

“Who are you?” You demanded to know, your voice barely louder than a whisper. You were shaking from head to toe, your body and mind gone into overdrive when they had first laid hands on you.

They shared a grin with each other. “Does it matter? All you have to know is we’re not your fucking maids. And that you will die tonight, princess. Now be a good girl and shut the fuck up.”

You tried to press your heels into the floor, to keep them from stirring you towards the door, but after a moment the tall one simply picked you up and carried you towards the door. Your nails scratched over the man’s back, but it was like he didn’t even feel it, his grip around your legs too tight for you to struggle and free yourself.

“Behave.”

You were set on your feet again, crowded by them against the door. You swallowed hard against the lump in your throat, your eyes flickering between the two of them. “Whoever paid you, their reward is not nearly enough for the misery my family will bring down on you when they find you. I am a princess of Dragonstone and you have no right to-“

They pushed you out of the door, not bothering to listen.

A horrified gasp escaped your lips as you stepped outside your chamber and nearly stumbled over the dead bodies of your two guards, bleeding out and cold on the floor. The sound echoed through the hall and before you knew what was happening, your head was pulled back by your hair and a hard hand slapped you across the face.

Pain exploded in your mind, blinding you for a moment before the sting ebbed away and was replaced with a dull throb in your cheek.

You held the palm of your trembling hand to your throbbing cheek, breathing hard as you recovered from the blow. “You will die for this.” You said oddly calm and collected. It had to be the shock, you could not think clearly, but you knew one thing for sure: “The prince will cut your hands off for laying hand on me.”

The tall one grinned as if it was an empty threat. “We will be long gone once your prince finds you, stupid cunt. And in what state that will be, I still have to decide.” His disgusting hungry gaze crept over your body, barely hidden underneath your thin sleeping gown. You wanted to throw up.

“You will lead us to the place where the dragons are.” The shorter one said. “We know the keepers are all at the meeting and you know ways where no guards keep patrol. And if you dare to scream or run to wake anyone, I’ll cut out your tongue and heart and throw it in front of the bastard prince’s feet.”

You swallowed down bitter tears, your head screaming at you to do something, anything. But your hands were painfully tied and you did not find your voice as you slowly began to walk with them through the castle.

In the past, you have had nightmares like this, terrible visions of you being powerless as hands held you down in the dark, doing horrible things to you. You sometimes had woken up screaming, but Jacaerys had been there for you every time, holding you until the worst of it was over and you slowly were able to calm down in his safe and warm embrace. Now, there was no one, all people living and working at Dragonstone either asleep or summoned by Rhaenyra and Jacaerys for the council meeting. By the time someone had discovered the corpses of your guards in front of your chambers, you’d likely be dead or taken to who knew where.

You walked through your home, shivering against the cool air with only the thin nightdress you wore on you, the dangerous presence of your captors behind your back. You knew Jacaerys would blame himself for leaving you alone and suddenly, a sorrow so consuming filled your chest, you choked on a quiet whimper. You had not even said goodbye…

“Shut the fuck up.” They hissed at you and one of them slung his arm around your waist, your fingers digging into his flesh in protest as cool metal suddenly rested against your ribcage. A dagger. “Be fucking quiet and keep walking.”

Soon, the air began to smell of salt and sea and you heard the distant crashing of the waves against the island. The entrance to the dragon caves came into sight and you turned around to face them.

“Now tell us, girl, where is your precious dragon?”

Your heart sank into the pit of your stomach, but before you could open your mouth for a reply, the other one of them shook his head. “No. Don’t be stupid. The beast will kill us right away if it sees their rider in our clutches. But…the bastard’s dragon. It’s a foul ill-tempered beast, isn’t it? Where is it?”

Vermax.

A protective wave washed through you and for a moment, you regained the little confidence you had before the man had laid his hand on you. “What do you want with the dragon? You are in no state to have a chance at killing him.”

They shared a look, both grinning viciously. One of them stepped up to you and touched your chin with his dirty hand, right where a fresh bruise from his violence bloomed. You tried to flinch away, but he held you close.

“We don’t mean to kill it, flower.” He told you, bloodthirst flickering over his features and making you sick. His knuckles brushed over the cut on your lip and you wanted to gag from disgust. “We’re going to watch as it kills you.”

Your mind was swimming as you led them through the darkness, watching their big shadows looming over your small own. The taller one still held his dagger against your waist and you knew he’d make use of it if he noticed you playing any games. There were wild beasts slumbering in the depths of these caves, but would they be faster at attacking your captors than the knife against your skin?

The hope in your chest thinned the further away you walked with them from where you knew your own dragon slept, but one last shimmer of it remained in you. You knew Vermax and he knew you just as Jacaerys did. You had to hold on to that.

“It’s here.” You announced quietly, your whisper echoing across the cave near the ocean. It was quiet here and you had to squint your eyes to make out the big nest at the end of the cave where a green-scaled dragon slept fitfully.

“Call it.” The smaller one muttered, his eyes fixed on the beast. You winced as the tip of the dagger pressed into your skin, a warning. “We will stand behind you and when it has come out, you will command it to kill you, you hear me? No tricks or I’ll gladly be the one to end your suffering, right after my friend here has had his fun with you, princess.”

You took a deep breath as they retreated into a safe distance.

„Naejot Māzīs, Vermax.“ You commanded shakingly and the sound of your familiar voice, the big pile of green and red in the corner of the cage moved, uncurling himself from his light slumber.

Jacaerys’ dragon blinked at you sleepily, a shudder going through his beautiful scales as he tilted his head to the side questioningly. When he spotted the two men in your company, he tensed, stepping forward and showing himself in his full height.

“Lykirī…“ You lifted your hands, trying to catch Vermax’ eyes again so he’d look at you instead of them.

With a low growl in his throat, he settled, stepping closer to you until his snout almost touched your outstretched hand.

“Say it, girl!” You heard the commanding voice behind you, in a safe distance of the beast that slowly blinked at you, considering. “We’re not going to wait much longer!”

You took a deep breath and looked Vermax in the snake-like eyes.

He met you with a calm stare, tilting his head to the side again, a deep rumble in his chest.

You had to trust in him now. You had to trust in the love Jacaerys and you were sharing and the bond between you and the dragons.

Out of the sudden, a heavy thrown stone hit you in the back and you gasped in pain, stumbling forward and almost slipping in a dirty puddle.

“DO IT!”

Trust in Vermax, just as you trust in your Jace.

“Dracarys.” You whispered finally and closed your eyes.

Vermax surged forward with a furious roar, one sharp claw in the ground, his wing shielding you from the scenery. Nearly pushing you out of the way, he advanced on the men who had threatened you with a snarl and warmth filled the large cave, fire burning low in his green-scaled stomach.

A horrible realization flickered over their faces as the green beast drew closer, their backs hitting the wall behind them as they looked at you one last time. “You fucking cunt-“

Vermax wiped out their miserable existence with one single breath of fire. Heat tore through the cave and you stumbled backwards as the dragon fire burned them and the scent of roasted human flesh reached your nose.

You squeezed your eyes shut and buried your face in your hands as you listened to their screams. Their agony bounced off the stone walls and heat crept down your spine, but Vermax kept you close, the leathery feel of his wing a small comfort against your skin.

Suddenly, silence rang in your ears.

You dared to peek up over the protective curl of Vermax’ wings.

Where your captors had stood, only ashes and bones remained.

Vermax let out a self-satisfied growl, clearly pleased with what he had unleashed on the terrors. He bent down, blinking at you with his sharp eyes as if to make sure you were alright. Tears, both from the shock and gratitude, filled your eyes and you leaned your forehead against his snout, trying to take deep breaths to steady yourself.

You shrunk back as you heard footsteps in the caves, hurried steps running over gravel and through the water puddles, a flame throwing a long shadow over the walls. You felt Vermax tense, his wing drawing itself tighter around you. Any other threat advancing, he’d burn to the ground.

In the next moment, Jacaerys stormed into the chamber, his sword drawn as his other hand held a lit torch. His chest was heaving, sweat gathering at his hairline as he quickly took in the state of the room. He looked like he had run the length of the castle and you knew it likely had been the case.

Vermax snarled without threat, greeting his rider and lifting his wing to present you to your love.

Your eyes met and you let out a shuddering breath.

The sight of you was a thousand daggers to his heart.

Your face was smeared with soot and the blood from your split lip coated your chin, your hair unruly and disheveled from the way they had grabbed and dragged you along. Your silk dress was dirty and you shivered against the cold of the cave as you slung your bruised arms around yourself.

Behind you, Vermax hovered like a protective shadow and waited, willing to serve with Jacaerys now here with you.

As he took a step towards you, his boot made contact with the skulls of the assassins. Two of them, he realized and the rage surging through his veins was all-consuming. He looked down at their bones and wished to go back in time to kill them himself, over and over again until not even these mortal remains stayed behind.

But his own bloodlust vanished as he raced towards you, your own legs unsteady and finally giving out under you just as he reached you.

He fell to the ground with you in his arms, holding you tightly as you clawed your hand in his clothes, his heart breaking for you right underneath your tight grip. It was like any last strength in you had left, leaving you a broken and sobbing mess in his embrace.

“You’re safe, you’re safe…” Jace murmured into your ear, softly swaying you back and forth as you wept, the adrenaline and shock from the situation finally crashing down on you with full force. “Nothing is going to happen to you, I’m here…”

The Queen and the dragon keepers found the prince and his princess just like this.

Jacaerys was kneeling on the ground, the princess dissolved in tears in his arms and the ill-tempered beast that had saved his love curled around them, chortling comfortingly as the prince stroked her hair and whispered sweet nothings in her ear.

˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚

You had been escorted back to the castle, but you couldn’t say you remembered much from the journey. Your mind had gone into an odd state of survival, the girl from before the attack having retreated into a far corner of your mind.

The guards, now dead because of you, had been carried away in front of your door and you had stopped in the middle of the hallway, not able to go another step as you stared at the spot where maids were now scrubbing the blood from the floor.

“Come on, my dear.” Rhaenyra had gently told you and you tore your eyes away from the scene as your Queen and Jacaerys led you into his chambers instead. The warmth and unique scent of Jace’s quarters – the smell of old parchment and books, mingled with the wax of the candles and the smell of his sheets – enveloped you and you drew the cloak Jace had draped over your shivering form tightly around you.

Now, a little later, you were seated at Jace’s work table and blankly stared at your scraped hands in your lap.

Jacaerys had instantly expressed his dislike for an interrogation at this hour of the night, but you had shaken your head, willing to recount the situation to Rhaenyra as if words could wash away the poison they had brought onto you. Your skin felt coated with it and you feared the stain might never go away again.

Yet, you had told her and Jace what happened, slowly and quietly, and when you were done, Rhaenyra was holding your hand and Jacaerys looked as if he wanted to break something.

“My brave girl.” Rhaenyra murmured and softly cupped your cheek as she looked at the bruises on your face and neck. “You’ve fought enough for tonight, darling. I’ll call the maids and healers and-“

“No.” You cut her off, shivering at the prospect of unfamiliar hands on you, seeing the evidence of what had happened on your naked skin. You swallowed hard, your eyes filling with unshed tears again. “No one else. It’s- it’s alright, I can do it myself, I really can-“

Rhaenyra smiled sadly at you. “You are hurt, my dear.”

“I’m not broken.” You insisted, although you felt like it. You were shattered pieces on the ground.

“And no one says so, dear.”

Jacaerys, sensing you were on the verge of breaking down, knelt down next to your chair and caught your gaze with his. “I can help, if you want.” He offered quietly.

You looked back at him, conflicted. If Jace stayed, there’d come the point where he’d see the damage you had taken and you did not know what troubled you more; him seeing you like this or seeing him as his heart shattered for you.

“Jace.” Rhaenyra looked at him. “Perhaps a woman’s presence at this time is better suited for her. I’ll fetch you later, I promise, but she needs a moment for herself now, alright?”

He was tense, your beloved prince, but after a moment he nodded with a set jaw before he stood and looked at you one more time. “I’ll wait outside.”

You didn’t want to meet his sad expression, so you kept your gaze down as mother and son went to the door, talking in quick and hushed voices before Jace stepped outside and Rhaenyra returned to you.

She leaned down and brushed a little bit of soot from your cheeks, careful not to touch your split lip. “Vermax surely knows how to rain down fire on our enemies, hm?”

A weak smile tugged at the corner of your lips. “He saved me. He knew exactly what was going on the moment I entered and he was intelligent enough to play along until the right moment had come.”

Rhaenyra hummed, offering you a hand to stand up. “And still, they only call my son’s dragon ill-tempered. How does a bath sound? I’m sure you’d like to step into more comfortable clothes, wouldn’t you?”

You nodded, longing for a simple cotton shirt, preferably one of Jace’s that smelled like home and warmth and safety.

Your future mother-in-law went to the big bath next to Jace’s bedroom with you, a steaming bath already having been drawn for you.

When you saw her drawing a stool close to the tub, your eyes widened and you were quick to interject: “I-I can do it myself, Your Grace, there is no need for you to-“

“Please let me help you just as I would help any other child of mine.” She interrupted you kindly and soon after, you gratefully sunk into the bath, your sore muscles relaxing in its warmth.

Rhaenyra helped you tilt your head back and you closed your eyes as warm water flowed over your hair and down your neck, tears of your own silently running down your damp cheeks. Your throat bobbed painfully as you let her work, the Queen’s gentle hands a mother’s comfort as they helped to get rid of the dirt from the caves and a root clinging to your skin.

“I have sent Jace to fetch an ointment for your bruises and cuts.” She told you quietly and you nodded silently, cupping some of your water to rinse off your face, careful not to touch your throbbing lip. “I want you to tell me if I should send him away for the night. You can be honest with me, dear.”

You sniffled, gladly accepting the towel she lent you after helping you out of the bathtub. After a moment, you rasped: “It is not him I am scared of. It’s just…I know it pains him to see me hurt.”

“He hurts because he hasn’t been there for you, my dear.” Rhaenyra explained softly and you sighed to yourself as you slipped into a silken robe, the fabric easy on the big bruise on your back and arms. Underneath, you already wore one of Jace’s long shirts, the fabric more of a dress on you. “If it is one thing I have learned, as someone who loves and is lucky enough to be loved, it’s that healing means accepting the help of others. No one will fault you if you want to be for yourself tonight, but I know Jace will do anything he can to help you recover from this, no matter what that might look like.”

You did not want to be alone.

You feared it, laying down in bed once again when the door could open at any moment and reveal the terrors, although Jacaerys had doubled the amount of guards outside his door, simply so you’d feel safe.

You wanted to feel sheltered and able to move past this with the one you loved more than anything else, the one who had first thought about when your life had been in grave danger.

You needed Jacaerys.

“Jace may come in again.” You said quietly, suppressing the urge to groan with every step. You had not seen it yet, but the pain the stone thrown to your back caused felt like a flare and you were sure the spot was already turning a deep shade of purple.

Rhaenyra led you towards Jace’s bed, seemingly pleased with your decision. “I’ll make my leave then. Sleep in tomorrow, the both of you. You need all the rest you can get.”

“Thank you, Your Grace.” You squeezed her hand in yours, bowing your head in gratitude. “And thank you for helping me.”

She smiled at you one last time, although there was a strain to it, her worry over a sneak attack like this consuming her mind. Tomorrow they’d speak about this in council, but tonight she’d let her son do the rest, his wide eyes meeting hers when she opened the door and let him in.

You turned around to look at him, your damp hair falling over your shoulder and his clothes, a princess despite the cuts and bruises on your skin. Jacaerys slowly walked to you and your heart stung when you noticed his blood-shot eyes and how pale he still was. He was tense all over, yet he softened as he came to a stop in front of you.

“Where does it hurt?” He asked quietly, looking for your honesty and not a false promise towards him.

You let out a shaky breath and leaned into him.

For a moment, you simply stood in front of each other, forehead against forehead and breathing each other in. Hot tears welled up in your shut eyes, his closeness rescuing and suffocating you at once. Jace’s nose touched yours and his soft curls tickled your cheeks and for a second, you thought that everything might be alright again when the morning came.

“My back. My cheek and wrists…” You whispered, your breath tickling his lips. “I know I’ve bathed and changed and I’m safe in your rooms, but…it feels like they’ve put me apart and I’ve been assembled back together wrongly.”

He shook his head, swallowing against his own lump in his throat. “You could never be wrong, my love.”

Your bottom lip wobbled dangerously, only doubling the pain in the cut grazing it. “I’ve been so scared, Jace. When they entered my room- Anything could’ve happened, they could’ve done anything to me-“

You gasped both in relief and sorrow as his arms pulled you against him, the hug both grounding and warm, something you thought you’d lost forever mere hours ago. You were too exhausted to cry once more, but the horror over what else could’ve been done to you shook you to your very core.

“I’m never going to let something like this happen again.” Jace promised you darkly as he tightened his arms around you, soothingly brushing his hand through your hair as you rested the unwounded side of your face against his heart. “You will never have to be afraid again, I promise. I should’ve been there, I should’ve stopped them-“

“You didn’t know they were here.” You reminded him, but you could feel the fury radiating off his body, an all-consuming rage deeply rooted in him. “No one did. No one is to blame except for the ones who sent them, Jace.”

“And they will pay.” You could practically feel the daggers he was glaring at the wall behind you. But just after a moment, you felt his anger deflate as he softly kissed the top of your head and gently lifted your chin so he could look at you. “You’ve been fighting all alone tonight, but I am here now and I want to be of use, beloved. Will you let me help?”

“I don’t want to upset you.” You almost bit your lip before you remembered the pain.

His gaze softened endlessly and he tucked a damp strand of your hair behind your ear. There were lots of tangled emotions inside of him still, but he saw you, this sweet delicate girl he had fallen for ever since the beginning and knew he had to take care of you now. “You could never upset me, my beautiful strong princess.”

The words were mending on your shaken soul and you closed your eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath before you let him to his work.

“The maester said the salve might be a little cool on the skin.” Jace murmured and you nodded in understanding. “And he gave me ice, scratched from the old side of the island’s cliffs, for your cheek.”

You took the dripping bundle from his hand, sighing as the cold cloth touched your cheek, the swelling subtle so far yet inevitable to strengthen throughout the night. But every bruise and cut on your body was better than not living to see the sun rise in the morning. “I could apply the salve on my own?”

Jace shook his head. “Let me do this for you.”

He walked with you to his bed, helping you sit down as he knelt before you, devotion shimmering in his eyes. You realized that he needed this just as much as you did, to prove himself he was able to take care of you now, even if he had not been there for you then.

He cupped your healthy cheek as you covered the other one with your ice. “Should we start with your back?”

Jace helped you lift the fabric, only so much so he could see where the stone had struck you, a dull bruise blossoming right to your spine. It was nothing he had not yet seen so far, still you felt subconscious under his attentive eyes.

You held very still as Jacaerys began to carefully apply the ointment to the bruise, his finger drawing soft and soothing circles over the blue spot. His other hand touched your waist, just barely underneath the fabric of his shirt on you and you closed your eyes as the cooling sensation drew a little pain from you and let it vanish.

“Good?”

“Feels good…” You murmured and tried to crawl into the feeling, the tiny relief washing away a little of the darkness from before. With a small kiss to your nape, he let the shirt fall and cover you again.

Next came your sore wrists. He lifted both of them, seeing the red marks where the tight rope had cut into your skin and swallowing hard. He wanted to unleash Vermax on the dusty bones of your captors again until their remains were annihilated from this earth. Jace softly kissed both of them before he dipped his fingers into the small jar again and repeated his careful motions.

You made a small sound in your throat and he stopped instantly.

“Too hard?”

You shook your head. “My lip…”

He sat down beside you, the mattress dipping underneath his weight and bringing you closer to him. The cut wasn’t pretty, but no cut was and you did not shy away from him as he took in the damage, one of his hands still rubbing circles into your wrist.

You held your breath as his coated thumb touched your bottom lip, his touch light as a feather as the cooling salve instantly mended the throbbing. Your hand reached up to hold his wrist, not ready yet to let him go when his touch felt infinitely good for your aching body. There was nothing sexual about the way you breathed against the pad of his thumb, relishing his care and simply letting it wash over you, and for a while you were simply content like this, Jacaerys remaining close to you as you breathed through the slowly ebbing pain.

“Do you want me to braid your hair for the night?” He asked quietly like he had so many times before.

Your wonderful beloved Jace. You nodded gratefully as he shuffled once more on the bed and sat behind you. Kissing the back of your head and brushing your hair over your shoulders for you, he got to work.

Your body was lulled into relaxation as his fingers combed through your hair, loosely braiding it so you wouldn’t have to wake up with tangles and knots in the morning. His warmth was a comfort against your back and if the vicious bruise hadn’t been there, you would’ve leaned back against him, ready to melt into his tenderness.

“Vermax saw right through them.” You spoke up after a while, your eyelids drooping from time to time from exhaustion as Jace finished up his braid for you. “He didn’t let them see at first, but there was a moment where I knew he was going to protect me, that he knew what was happening.”

“He loves you as if you were his own rider.” Jace mumbled, affection for you and his dragon in his voice. “I am glad he had been there for you when I wasn’t.”

“I want the finest sheep the shepherds can organize for tomorrow.” You looked over your shoulder with determination and Jacaerys frowned at you, a question in his eyes. You welcomed the small sting your lip caused you when its corner lifted up into a weak smile: “I want Vermax to be rewarded for defending his rider’s princess so honorably.”

“And I’d be honored to be the one to select it for you, my princess.” Jace’s face darkened, fury swirling in his brown orbs. “I still wish they would’ve suffered more. They deserved much more than a quick death of fire.”

His revengeful words were nothing against the soft touch with which he doted on you and when he was done and brushed his fingers once more over your hair, your body wanted to sink into his pillows and melt into them.

Jace laid down with you, carefully adjusting his position beside you so he wouldn’t accidently bump into your sore body. You exhaled deeply when your head touched his pillow, smelling so comfortingly of him. You could not bear to lie on your back, so you snuggled into Jace’s bed on your stomach, hugging his pillow and turning your head so you could look at your love.

He was resting on his side, his brown eyes searching for any discomfort you might have. Your eyes flickered over his shoulder, towards the door of his chambers.

“You are safe now, I promise.” Jace whispered and leaned forward, pressing a small kiss to your nose. “There are five guards outside and my sword leans against the bed. I’m here. Nothing bad will ever befall you again, my love, I swear it with my life.”

You gave him a tiny nod and tried to relax, although it was hard to keep the shadows lingering in the corners of the room at bay. You wiggled one of your hands out from under the pillow and found his, tugging him closer until his lean body warmed your side, one of his hands resting securely on your lower back.

“Tomorrow, I want to take a walk to the cliffs.” You whispered, longing for the fresh air and its cleansing effect.

Jacaerys smiled. “Then it will be arranged. Does my princess wish for any company?”

You nodded timidly, his playful undertone distracting you from the dull throb underneath the ointments. “And I want to have a picnic if the sun is out, with all my favorite things.”

“I’ll tell the kitchens then, first thing in the morning. They’ll be happy to please their future queen.”

“And when I’m healed, I want you to kiss me…” Your eyes drooped, the exhaustion from the night overpowering the little anxiety that remained in you.

“Your wish is my command...” Jacaerys mumbled back, his eyes on you as you slowly drifted off into a well-deserved sleep. He had not been entirely honest with you, there were many things he wanted to do.

He watched you sleep beside him, the most innocent sweet being he knew, covered with his warm clothes and bruises on your skin. Jace still held your hand and was not willing to let it go for the rest of the night.

At the soonest time, he’d convene a council meeting and strengthen the security around Dragonstone. He already had caught word of Daemon wreaking havoc on the guard unions patrolling around the castle for not being more attentive, for the princess was one of his favorite people in this family and Jace knew he’d have an ally for his cause.

He’d take his revenge for you.

But for now, he knew you needed him more than ever, and tomorrow he’d do his best to make you happy again. 

He could almost see it in the dark of the room, your eyes closed blissfully against the sunbeams, your hair dancing with the wind as you walked hand in hand as you had done so many times as children. You’d eat ripe peaches and cake and slowly, this incident would move past you until it was only what it was; a shadow in the corner, in the dead of night…

my taglist (open): @princesschimchim1325 @cecestea @jacesvelaryons @princessvelaryon @diannnnsss

[cinematicreid]

for a moment

the one where Spencer reminds reader to slow down.

wc 651

warnings + the rundown: bau!reader, fluff, soft!spencer, i love him, literally can’t live without him, what a sweetheart, mentions of reader getting shot, but nothing explicit, feelings!, yikes!

a/n: can’t beat short and sweet and cutesy. feedback always welcome, come say hi to me i think you’re all so cool!

~

Spencer’s eyes may as well have laser beams shooting out of them with the way his gaze is glued to you. You attempt to focus on the task at hand, securing the Kevlar vest to the upper half of your body and completely ignoring him. But this has been happening for almost two months, ever since your incident, and you can’t take it anymore.

“Give it a rest, Spencer, you’re driving me crazy.”

“I know! I’m sorry, just — will you please let me —”

You let out a huff of exasperation, giving up.

“For fuck’s sake,” you mumble, and then more loudly, “Fine.”

Your hands fall to your sides in surrender as he quickly moves toward you and reaches for the vest’s fasteners.

A child. He’s making you feel like a child.

You hear Morgan chuckle from the other end of the police precinct’s tiny conference room, as if he can read your thoughts. You’re about to shoot him a death glare when you’re interrupted by Spencer sharply tugging a strap too tight.

“Reid,” you hiss.

“Don’t start,” he interjects over your complaint.

The incident in question was, of course, an accident. It wasn’t like you had intentionally put your vest on in a rush. There just hadn’t been enough time (which was not a proper excuse, as Hotch had gently but firmly reminded you later), and the loosened straps meant the vest moved around more than it should have when you were running, and the UnSub’s bullet found your side all too easy to graze.

It was stupid, really, but it was one time and nearly two months ago.

None of this was enough to ease the seemingly permanent furrow in Spencer’s brow.

It started as small, albeit irritating, reminders to double-check your vest, which you initially laughed off. But it had now escalated to taking the task entirely off your hands.

Spencer finishes with a final tug.

“Happy?” you ask him flatly. He lifts his concentrated gaze to meet your annoyed one.

“I could do without the sass. But yes,” he says, his shoulders visibly lighter and more content.

“It’s like watching a dad get his daughter ready for Take Your Kid To Work Day,” Morgan teases, rushing out of the room before you can hit him with the closest object at your disposal and leaving just you and Spencer. He rolls his eyes at the poor joke and gently takes said object from your hand.

“I don’t think a pen is going to do much damage,” he says. He loosens a sigh. “I’m sorry.”

You regard him for a few seconds, a small part of you melting at the undeniable softness in his eyes, which are so vast and deep you could stay there forever.

You get it.

It’s the thing about this job. How it forces an eternity to become temporary. How, in 20 minutes, you’ll be hunting down the bad guy but for now, what can feel like forever if you wanted, you’re only here with Spencer.

It’s all fleeting. Your little “incident” had only served as a reminder of that.

And so, Spencer had to take care of you in this way. You both knew that.

“You don’t need to be,” you offer him. He avoids your gaze and you nudge his shoulder with your hand. “Spencer, I’m here, yeah?” That earns you a gentle nudge back and the hint of a smile.

“I know. I’m here, too.”

And here is everywhere and nowhere and, perhaps most importantly, together. A beat, or maybe a forever passes before he speaks again.

“If this were Take Your Kid To Work Day I’d be the worst father in the world.”

Just like that, he’s back and you’re back with him.

Fleeting.

“I am so getting him back for that,” you mumble, making your way to the door. Spencer’s laugh as he follows behind you is all you can hear.

[blingblong55]

Sacred Sin- Simon Riley and John Price NSFW

---- F!Reader, MDNI, 18+, priest!au, priest!Ghost, priest!Price, sinner!reader, hierophilia, threesome, oral!sex, unprotected!sex, P-in-V ----

A/N: a preview of how hot kinktober could be ;)

The heavy oak door of the confessional creaks as you push it open, stepping into the dimly lit, narrow booth. Your heart pounds against your ribcage, the weight of your sins dragging every footstep like chains tethered to your ankles. A thick veil of incense hangs in the air, mixing with the faint scent of polished wood and stone, wrapping you in an oppressive warmth. 

You sit, your hands trembling in your lap, staring at the thin lattice screen that separates you from Father Price on the other side. His voice––deep, gravelly, commanding––pierces through the silence, stirring something primal within you. "What brings you here, child?" His words echo, each syllable dripping with both judgment and expectation. 

You hesitate. Your mind is a whirlwind of thoughts, none of them pure, none of them righteous. You've been here before, seeking redemption, hoping that maybe one more confession will wipe your slate clean. But it never does. You keep coming back, drawn to the church and them–– Father Price and Father Riley–– like a moth to a flame. The desire to repent was always overshadowed by a deeper, darker hunger you couldn't quite put into words. 

The screen casts a shadow over his face, leaving just a glimpse of his stern eyes,k watching. Waiting. You know Simon is somewhere nearby, always looming, always watching. His presence lingers in the back of your mind–– silent, unyielding, like the cross he bears across his broad back.

"Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned." The words spill from your lips, as familiar as a prayer. Your throat tightens, heat rising to your cheeks as your thoughts betray you, lingering on their hands––rough, capable, strong, fuck this is so wrong. You've never seen Simon's face fully, but you imagined it—many times. 

John shifts in his seat, the rustling of fabric against wood unnerving you. You wonder if he can hear the unspoken guilt in your voice, the way your body betrays you just by being near them. His gaze feels like a weight, pressing down on your chest, making breathing harder. 

"How long has it been since your last confession?" Father Price's tone is sharp, almost scolding, but underneath it, there's something else––a tension, a strain you can't ignore. You wonder if it's you that brings it out of him. You hope it is. 

You feel Simon's eyes on you now, too. Even though you can't see him, his presence wraps around you, invisible yet undeniable, like the judgment of the heavens themselves. You've always been weaker when they're together, their combined power enough to make you feel vulnerable, exposed..and horny. And you hate it. You love it. 

The silence stretches, thick like the incense clouding the air, and you feel their eyes on you––two pairs of eyes hidden by cloth and shadow, yet searing into your skin. Your fingers fidget in your lap, brushing against the rosary hanging from your wrist, its cold beads a stark contrast to the warmth pooling in your core.

Father Price speaks again, his voice laced with something darker, heavier than before. "Do you understand the weight of your sins, Y/N? Each one is like a stain upon your soul. To truly repent..." He pauses, letting the silence gnaw at you. You hear a shift behind the screen, the rustle of his cassock, and then, almost like a whisper, "It'll take more than words." 

You swallow hard, feeling the intensity of his gaze even without seeing it. You've never felt guilt and desire mix like this before––never felt your body betray you so completely in the face of righteousness. There's a tightness in your chest, a pull as if every fibre of your being yearns for something forbidden. 

"Are you willing to be cleansed?" His voice is deeper now, almost a growl, and it sends a shiver down your spine. You nod before you can stop yourself, your breath hitching, because you know what he means. This was never just about confession. 

Father Riley steps forward, his presence is undeniable as he emerges from the shadows. You didn't even realise he'd entered the room, but now his towering figure looms over you, silent and foreboding. His black cassock brushes against your legs as he stands there, hands clasped in front of him, his fingers curled around the rosary beads. His face remains unreadable, but there's an unspoken understanding between them––an unholy partnership bound by something far more sinful than you've ever imagined. 

"On your knees," Father Price orders, his voice a command that cuts through the stillness like a blade. The rosary clinks against wood as you lower yourself, your heart pounding in your throat. You feel the weight of your sin pressing down on you, but there's another weight too––your desire, twisting inside you, feeding on the tension. 

You kneel before them, hands clasped as if in prayer, though it feels anything but holy. Sweet sinner. Father Riley steps closer, his hand reaching out, tracing the line of your jaw with a single, calloused finger. There's something cruel in his touch, yet it ignites a fire within you, one that burns hotter with every second. 

From the corner of your eye, you see the glint of holy water in Father Price's hand. The bottle is small and delicate, but in his grip, it looks dangerous––like a weapon. He steps forward, his eyes never leaving yours, and tips the bottle just slightly, letting a few droplets fall onto your forehead. The water is cold against your skin, but the heat inside you only grows stronger. 

"Holy water to cleanse the impure," Father Price murmurs, his fingers brushing over the wet trail left behind, trailing it down, down until they hover just above the swell of your chest. You hold your breath, your body strung tight like a bow. "But your penance..." He pauses, looking to Simon, who remains unmoving, his dark eyes fixed on you, "...will take more." Father Riley's hand tightens in your hair, pulling your head back ever so slightly, exposing the curve of your neck to them both. The rosary in his other hand swings lightly, the black beads clicking together in rhythm with your heartbeat. His breath is warm against your ear when he speaks, low and commanding. "Sins can only absolved through punishment." 

There's a moment––a fleeting second where you can feel the tension shift, a balance tipping into something far more dangerous, far more sinful. The two men of the cloth stand over you, their eyes dark with a desire they refuse to name but it's there. You can feel it. You know they're holding back, barely. 

Father Price circles you slowly, his hand brushing along the curve of your shoulder, down the length of your arm, until his fingers catch the edge of your sleeve. "This flesh is weak," he murmurs, and there's a darkness to his words that sends a thrill down your spine. His hand lifts, holding the rosary before you, the crucifix dangling just inches from your lips. "Kiss it."

You hesitate, not out of reluctance, but from the sheer weight of the moment. The tension between the three of you is palpable, a forbidden current of electricity humming through the air. You part your lips, leaning forward, brushing a reverent kiss against the cold metal. The act feels twisted and wrong, but there's no denying the rush that comes with it–the way it sets your blood aflame, the way it makes you want them both even more. 

Father Price steps back, his eyes locked on yours, a silent promise of what's to come. Father Riley's grip tightens in your hair, pulling your head back further until you're staring up at him, exposed and vulnerable beneath his gaze. "Your punishment begins now." Father Riley's voice is a low growl, and you know there's no going back. The air is thick with unspoken desire, with the weight of sin and salvation. You are at their mercy, and though your body trembles with fear, it's laced with a dark thrill you can't deny. 

Father Price with a knife, soaked in holy water, cuts your shirt, revealing your sweet breasts. The holy men look at each other and smirk. Father Riley helps you up and guides you over to the altar. "Prayers are better when said to God on the altar," Father Riley says as his voice becomes deeper, his rosary touching your skin. Your head is pulled back, andFather Price holds the consecrated Host between his fingers, his eyes locking onto yours as he leans closer. "This is His body," he murmurs, voice low and commanding. Slowly, deliberately, he presses the Host against your trembling lips. "Take it and be cleansed." You open your mouth, and the wafer rests on your tongue, the taste of it bitter with the weight of your sins. 

"You'll repent here," Father Price murmurs, the promise of what's to come heavy in his words, "with both of us watching." 

Both men get you on your knees and hands. Behind you, Simon's hands skim over your body, slow, deliberate, as though he's marking you again. His fingers trace down your spine, over your hips, a slow burn that leaves you breathless. Every touch is filled with unspoken intent–one that promises anything but mercy. Price moves in closer, his lips brushing against your ear, hot breath fanning your skin. "This altar is sacred," he growls, "but tonight, it will witness something far more sinful."

"You'll find your absolution here," Price murmurs, his voice thick with authority. His hand trails down your cheek, his touch almost gentle despite the darkness behind his gaze. It's an unholy communion. 

Father Riley lifts your skirt, pushing your panties aside. Holy water coats his fingers, "God forgive me, I'm only helping the sinner," he murmurs and his fingers slowly tease your folds. It feels satanic the way he touches you, the way he breaks celibacy for you. Father Price kisses his fingers and lets his cock peak past his holy clothes. Father Price's grip tightens around the back of your neck, firm and unyielding as he pulls you closer. His eyes are dark with something unholy, his thumb brushing slowly over your lips, teasing, testing your submission. "Open," he growls, his voice rough, filled with the weight of control. You hesitate for only a second before parting your lips, your breath catching as you feel the heat of his skin so close to yours. 

Father Riley holds onto your waist. His fingers flick over your sensitive bud. Father Price has his fingers lubricated with your saliva slipped from your sweet lips to his cock. You take him into your mouth and for a second, all you could think about was how holy this tastes. 

"How many fingers can this pretty hole take?" Father Riley says as he pushes another finger into you. One hand worked on his throbbing cock while the other teased your soaked hole. "Such a good little sinner," he praises as he pushes his cock deep into you. He adds another finger into your hole. 

Your moans are muffled and that makes them smirk. Father Riles pulls onto your hair, the force of the tug makes you gag, which makes Father Price pleased. "How does that feel?" he asked, his voice smooth and full of lust. He started pumping in and out, stretching you in a way that made you whimper around his cock. 

"Such a little slut," Father Riley mutters and his hips started to move in sync with Simons. His cock pushed deeper into your throat, making you gag more, but also making your pussy clench around Simon's cock. What a fucking sin this is. "You love this don't you?" Simon grinned, his eyes glinting with the promise of more pain and pleasure, "Beg for it" he commanded, his fingers curling inside of you, hitting your sweet spot. 

The combination of both sensations was too much to bear, your body trembling, your eyes tearing up, and your voice hoarse from the cock in your mouth you managed to mumble, "Pleaaase... more..." 

"we'll give you more, little sinner," Price growled, his thrusts becoming more aggressive, his cock swelling in your mouth. Simon's fingers curled deeper, his thumb rubbing against your clit. The sensations became too much to bear. Your body rocked between them, your throat constructing around Price's cock, your pussy clenching around Simon's cock. You couldn't hold back any longer, your body trembled each time they pounded themselves deeper into you. "What a dirty sinner, begging for our holy cocks to cleanse your filthy body." Father Price grunts the closer he gets. 

"Open up for your priest, my child." Father Riley says as he runs his rosary through your back. Your hole stretched around him with a pop, as he started to push inside of you. Father Price pulls back from your throat, leaving you gasping for air. He then rammed his cock back in, throat fucking you with renewed vigour. The contrast between the two cocks, one in your mouth and one in your pussy, was overwhelming. 

Simon started to thrust in earnest his hips slapping against your ass, while Price's cock filled your sweet throat, and you were caught between the two priests, being fucked in a way that would make even the most devout sinner lose their faith. Your body was on fire, the sensations building to a crescendo. You could feel your orgasm approaching, close enough to touch. You begged for more. 

They continued to pound into you, their cocks filling you. Stretching you, taking you to places never thought you'd go. The room echoed with the sounds of flesh slapping against flesh, the smell of sex, sweat and musk filling the air. And just like that, the dam broke, and you came hard, your body convulsing around the cocks that had claimed you. The pleasure was so intense, that you couldn't even scream, your voice lost in ecstasy. Their cum covered your body, sealing the deal with the devil. 

The room is quiet now, save for the sound of your ragged breathing. Your body trembles in the aftermath, the weight of what's just transpired pressing heavily upon your mind. The sacred space, one solemn and austere, feels tainted–like every inch of it has been made by the sin you've just committed. You should feel shame, and yet, all you can think about is the way their hands felt on you. 

Father stand over you, his chest rising and falling slowly. His gaze is sharp as if he’s weighing you down with it. He doesn’t speak, not at first, just watches, allowing the silence to smother you. When he does finally speak, his voice is quiet, but it carries the same command that made uni in the first place. “you’ve defiled the sacred space, Y/N.” His words sliced through the air, and though his tone is harsh, there’s no denying the warmth pulling into your belly. The power he holds over you is intoxicating. “There’s only one way to cleanse yourself now.”

Father Riley approaches, the beads of his rosary still swinging slightly, a haunting reminder of what just transpired. You can feel the strength in his touch, not gentle, but not harsh either– just enough to keep you in line, to remind you of your place.

John steps forward, his fingers lifting your chin so your eyes meet his. “You’ll pray for forgiveness, right here,” he orders, his thumb brushing over your lips, a small gesture that feels far too intimate for the weight of the sin hanging between you. He moves closer, his breath hot against your ear, “and we’ll make sure you’re clean.”

Simon pours the holy water slowly, methodically, letting it drip down your skin like a baptism, but this is no ordinary ritual. Each drop feels charged, sanctified and profane all at once. You close your eyes as the cool water trails down your body, washing over the marks they’ve left on you– reminders of everything you’ve done, of everything they’ve made you feel. 

“Say the words,” Father Price demands, his voice a low growl, sending shivers down your spine. “Repent. Beg for His mercy.”

Your lips tremble as you begin, your voice soft at first, each word of the prayer spilling from you, but the weight of it all makes your words falter. The rosary beads are pressed into your hands, the rough texture digging into your palms as you clutch them, seeking some kind of absolution. 

Simon’s fingers trail down your spine, slow, deliberate, as if he’s mapping every inch of your body, marking you again. The sensation is sinful, but you can’t resist. His touch, the cool water, the heat from John's gaze–it’s overwhelming. “You’re still soiled,” Simon murmurs, his voice a low rumble, barely audible, but you hear it like a command. “ will make you pure again.”

Their hands cleanse you, not with tenderness, but with precision, as though each touch is part of a ritual– something darker than what the church intended, but no less powerful. Simon’s finger slipped through your hair, pulling it back as the water poured over you again, slow and steady, like a benediction.

“bless me, Father, for I have sinned…” you whisper, the prayer breaking into nothing more than a breathless plea as they both stand over you. John's eyes burn into yours, his hand cupping your cheek, his thumb brushing your lips again as if testing you.

“You’re forgiven,” he murmurs, the weight of his words wrapping around you like the chains of your sins. But you know, deep down, that the absolution they offer isn’t holy. It’s twisted, dark, and yet… you crave it. And as you kneel before them, soaked in holy water, bound by their unspoken promises, you realise–repentance was never really the goal. 

A/N: so...are we liking this new thing i'm trying?

Tags: @liyanahelena @goldenmclaren @ghostslillady @moonsua1 @frizzseaberries @frazie99 @idklols @katybaby00 @saoirse06 @vampsquerade @alxexhearts @juneonhoth @tiredmetalenthusiast @jinxxangel13 @strangepuppynightmare @enarien @Simonssweetgirl @luvecarson @nellsbobells @saoirse06 @ikohniik @nobodys-coffee @strawberrychita @sae1kie @queen-ilmaree @Llelannie @Macnches2 @avidreadee123 @talooolaaloolla @skelletonwitch @bittermajesties @1234beeandpuppycat @sparky--bunny @honestlyhiswife @who-can-appease-me @ghostwifeyy @konigssultwithghost @pinkblossomsworld @lovelyvqer @the_royal_bee @beansproutmafia @soapybutt17 @asianbutnotjapanese @a-goose-with-a-knife @foxface013 @born4biriyani @mychemichalimalance @marshiely @iruzias @sleepyycatt @noodlezz-bedo @trinthealternate @azkza @VampyTheGoth

[ayyy-pee]

hi lexi!! i hope you’re having a lovely day!! sooooo i saw you’re requests are open 👀 i totally loved your kny fics and was wondering if you’d write a little something about giyu and his wife experiencing the ups and downs of pregnancy?

AHHHH HI JESS!!! Thank you for sending in a request! I've been kind of itching to write Demon Slayer again lately so YES YES YES!!!! ABSOLUTELY!!!

Discord 18+ - Twitter - Demon Slayer Masterlist

Pairing: Tomioka Giyuu x Female Reader

Summary: Adjusting to being at home with you all the time is easy. Adjusting to this pregnancy, is not.

A little extra bit to Make It Stick!

“Let me help you.”

“I’ve got it.”

“But, you shouldn’t–”

“I’m pregnant, Giyuu. That doesn’t make me incapable of getting water. Doesn’t mean I cannot do our laundry. Or prepare a meal. Or stand up by myself.”

Giyuu watches as you, his wife, so beautiful and glowing in this stage of your late pregnancy, lean forward as you attempt to stand from your seated position on the floor. It’s unsuccessful, your very round belly limiting your motion. With a deep breath and a strained grunt, you try again. Giyuu struggles not to leap forward. You simply want a glass of water. It really shouldn’t be this difficult. But you’re strong, and he’s learned better than to get in the way of his determined spouse. So he simply stands rooted in his spot as your second attempt to stand turns out to be less successful than the first. And after about the fourth try, you reach for your husband. 

“Okay,” you pant heavily, waving your husband over. “The last one I may need help with.”

He smiles softly, quickly and carefully helping you to stand. 

As the days pass, and peace finally takes root throughout Japan, Giyuu finds himself spending most of his time home with you. There are no demons, no reason for the Hashira to gather unless it’s to simply catch up. And try as he might, Giyuu is not any more social than when he joined the ranks. There are no more late night excursions across prefectures. No need to ever lay his hand on a sword again.

The Hashira were lucky. They survived. But not without their own set of scars, both physical and mental. All that to say…

He’s restless.

- - - - - -

So, he was grateful that the day he had returned from a fight he did not think he’d come back from, he found you asleep, safe and sound in bed. He was so blinded by your beauty, by the glow the moonlight cast across your skin, that he failed to notice the roundness of you hidden beneath your blankets. He received quite the surprise when he slid into your bed and tried to wrap his arms around you, only to find your belly had grown quite a bit since he’d been gone.

The next morning, you happily showed off your new, round belly to your husband who donned a wide smile as you (and your child) modeled in his haori.

“You look…” His wide eyes drank in your ever-changing form. The bright smile on your face as your hands gently caressed your stomach, made his heart beat wildly behind his ribs. “There are no words,” he rasped, and he was surprised to see the immediate glassiness that overtook your eyes as you gazed at him. He wasn’t sure what triggered such a reaction, until you kneeled before him and cupped his face in your hands. You pressed your lips to his sweetly, and then your thumbs swiped along his cheeks. It was only then that he realized he was the one with the glassy eyes, the tears pouring down his face. You kissed him again, smiling when Giyuu finally gathered his thoughts enough to kiss you back.

You pull away, the both of you gazing softly into each other’s eyes, your love speaking so loudly in this silence. Until you snort, a soft giggle rushing past your lips.

“You can’t think of at least one word?”

- - - - - -

Adjusting to being home with you all the time was easy. Your presence was always comforting, always warm and cozy. Your presence was always gentle and soothing. You made anywhere feel like home. So being with you all the time…it was easy. Adjusting to your pregnancy was not.

It was adjusting to your mood swings. You once had Giyuu quivering in fear, backed into a corner as you let him have it over placing a utensil in the “wrong spot”. He had never seen you so worked up before, your fists trembling as you laid into him. He apologized profusely, swearing he would be careful and apologizing with a back rub later in the night that had you in tears, blubbering your own string of apologies for how you treated him earlier.

No apologies were needed. Giyuu had forgiven you the moment you had raised your voice.

But, Giyuu thinks you could have even struck fear into Muzan had he been unfortunate enough to be on the receiving end of your wrath.

Another time, he found you weeping in your bath, upset that the cloth you used to bathe yourself was too far away (hanging on the other end of the bath) and you now couldn’t reach it. 

“It’s okay, love,” Giyuu cooed gently as he grabbed the cloth for you. But you were in hysterics, muttering about how you knew this was such a foolish thing to be crying over, but you just couldn’t seem to help yourself, swiping the tears from your cheeks. Giyuu didn’t mind, of course. He quickly stripped out of his clothes and climbed into the water with you. You quietly sobbed against him as your husband helped you to wash yourself.

He tucked you into bed after, ordering you to rest while he completed the household chores you were so determined to finish today (he made sure to put everything in its proper place).

Then, there was one other time when you made Giyuu walk you all the way to Kanroji’s home because you had to have pancakes and butter. He’d never tried it before, but had heard from Tanjiro, and you, that they are quite delicious. If it was what you wanted, he was happy to oblige. 

So he made the journey with you without question, watching as Kanroji eagerly wrapped her arms around you the moment she’d opened the door.

There are no longer secrets among the Hashira. They are aware of Giyuu’s status as a married man who is soon to be a father. They’ve all met you, and they all love you. Which is why Kanroji was more than happy to whip up pancakes and butter for you to happily enjoy together with tea. And it’s why she was also happy to prepare extra to send home with you.

“Please let me know when the baby arrives!” Kanroji cheers. “Obanai and I will make the journey to see you all!”

Your smile is wide and so, so happy and Giyuu is surprised to find that he mirrors your expression as you and Kanroji hold hands and become immersed in conversation.

It’s a pleasant journey home, you going on and on about how delicious your sweet treats were. You’re in good spirits! But it doesn’t last long, as the moment you get home, you’re rushing to the bathroom where you get sick. You spend the rest of the day in bed.

Adjusting to being at home with you all the time is easy. Adjusting to this pregnancy, is not.

- - - - - -

Today, you are happy. The smile he missed so much is back, and the color has returned to your face. You don’t look sickly, as you did just a few days prior and your energy has seemed to return as well. Giyuu suggested you go into town to try and find essentials for the baby. You won’t be out long, though. You’re due to give birth any day now, and it’s hard for you to stand for long periods of time due to the weight of the baby.

But you’re humming, eyes scanning the goods at each stand as you gently rub your belly. You speak with the merchants, purchase what you deem is necessary, and you hand it to your husband who follows quietly behind you. He’s essentially the bag man today. He doesn’t mind. Not when your joy is radiating off of you. Not when you’re glowing so beautifully. 

You’re draped in Giyuu’s haori, your favorite article of clothing lately.

“I just love to smell you these days,” you told him when he’d found you wearing it in the garden one morning. “I suppose the baby does, as well.”

These days, he finds you wear his haori more than he does. And it makes Giyuu feel eternally grateful, makes him feel so blessed. Blessed that he survived. Blessed that he was able to get back to you. Blessed that he is present for this journey and all of its ups and downs. Blessed that he is the man lucky enough to love and be loved by you. And soon, blessed to be able to hold the one created by both of your love.

Giyuu watches on, a tiny smile curling at the corners of his lips as he watches you adorably waddle your way to another stand. And he finds that maybe adjusting to your pregnancy is not as hard as he thought.

[dark-and-kawaii]

✧˖° Never Broken °˖✧

⊹ ࣪ ˖ Summary: He had failed to perform, a man, who should be strong and powerful, couldn't even get an erection anymore. It felt like his heart was shattering, he was a mess, and the thought of you leaving him over this had his hand clenched into a fist. Zevlor should know by now that you’re creative enough to find new ways to pleasure one another~ And you have no problem reminding him ♡

⊹ ࣪ ˖ Pairing: Zevlor x F!Tav/Reader

⊹ ࣪ ˖ Content: NSFW - Soft Cock Zevlor - Tongue Kissing - Angst - Hurt/Comfort - Tail Penetrating Your Tight Cunt - Nipple Sucking

Notes: This idea stemmed because of @daisyofwaterdeep ♡ ♡ ♡ Thank you ♡ ♡ ♡

He always feared this day would come, that he’d wake up and find himself broken, a disgrace, a lover that is of no use anymore…

Yet it still stung like nothing before.

As the years with you passed, he got older, he could feel it, he was slowing down, getting weaker, getting tired more often and having less energy every morning… Though he did his best to hide it from you.

But now, here he was.

Lying in bed, his usual hardness completely absent.

He had tried for what felt like hours to make something happen, to feel some semblance of pleasure as he touched himself.

But it was all fruitless.

No matter how hard he touched himself, or thought of you, there was no blood flowing down below.

It was all gone.

And now here he was, tears pricking at his eyes and his pride crumbling.

He had failed to perform, a man, who should be strong and powerful, couldn't even get an erection anymore. It felt like his heart was shattering, he was a mess, and the thought of you leaving him over this had his hand clenched into a fist.

He couldn't take it, the thought of losing you, the love of his life.

His eyes shut and it felt like his chest was collapsing…

Then again, was this not a fair punishment for him?

For what he had done, this was probably just his penance. He had betrayed his people, turned against them, swayed by the absolute… The very reason so many of them had fallen, the reason his comrades, his friends, were gone... Then there was you, his other half, his light… His whole world whom he had turned against that day as well, whom he had nearly killed with his own hands...

He was a failure, and this was his punishment.

He was going to lose you and have no one to blame but himself.

The tears had fallen now, staining the bed sheets beneath him.

He had no clue how long he had been laying there, crying like a lost child.

But it seemed that he would have to move eventually, since a soft knock could be heard on the door.

He quickly sat up, rubbing his eyes furiously.

He didn't want you to see him like this, you had enough of your own problems to deal with.

You didn't need to have the burden of taking care of a broken old man.

“A-Ah... I'm sorry, did I wake you, love?” You softly spoke, the door opening slowly as your head poked through the crack.

The sight made his heart flutter, your hair was styled neatly, your cheeks rosy, and you still wore your revealing night clothes. The swell of your breasts, the dip in your waist, and the curve of your hips... Gods, you were the most beautiful being he'd ever laid eyes on.

You smiled, walking into the room as he watched, “I woke up a little bit ago and was wondering if you wanted me to make you breakfast today? You always seem to be the one doing it, and well, you don't always have to do it all by yourself... Besides, I wanted to make you feel special today, my love.” You wrapped your arms around him, kissing his cheek gently.

He felt his throat close, his voice refusing to work, his heart was screaming at him to just tell you, to let you know everything, that he needed you, that he loved you so much.

“I- …” he sighed and smiled best he could, “That’s very kind of you, dear.” He whispered, his hand coming up to gently caress your cheek, the touch of your skin sending warmth throughout his entire body.

You grinned, hugging him tight and kissing his lips, a smile on your face, and a glint of mischief in your eyes. He didn’t have much time to question what you were planning before you pushed him down on the bed and straddled his hips, a soft giggle leaving you.

“Today is all about you, my love~ let me take care of you, please~ you can let me take control, just for a bit~ please?”

Zevlor’s breath caught in his throat, his eyes widening as you began to rub your barely covered core against him. He could feel his heart sink, a sharp pain running through his chest, you looked so happy, and here he was, about to destroy it.

He had never denied you before, not once, always willing to let you have your way with him and vice versa, to show him your love, to take him.

Yet, when you began to kiss his neck and your hands traveled lower, his own hands found their way to your wrists.

He couldn’t let you continue…

Your head cocked to the side, confusion and hurt crossing your face… Zevlor could swear that his heart had cracked even further, he could hear it.

“Wh-what’s wrong? Did I do something?”

You were already blaming yourself, it was all too much for him, he had to tell you.

He took a shaky breath, closing his eyes, then looked at you.

His beautiful, wonderful, perfect, and kind hearted love. Despite his betrayal with the others you still showed him love, you had shown him forgiveness, fought at his side countless of times, and you had taken him into your home treating him with nothing but respect and affection.

He didn’t deserve you, not at all. He accepted the reality of his fate now, he had no right to you, not when you deserved a man that could give you everything, and a cock that worked properly…

He sat up, his hands still holding your wrists as you stared at him, waiting, “what is it, Zevlor?” The fear in your voice was palpable, and his heart screamed for him to just comfort you and reassure you, tell you it was all alright.

“I-I… I am sorry, but-“

You cut him off, pulling away and sitting back on his thighs, your arms coming up to hug yourself.

His face sunk as tears began to creep in your eyes… He wanted to curse. With a deep breath he continued, “I cannot go on… My body- It will not- I- I can no longer perform- no longer function as a proper man should, I cannot satisfy you-“

Your arms released themselves from your body as your mouth hung open releasing a shaky breath, “That’s-“ You smiled and ran your fingers through your hair, “that’s a relief.” You laughed, a small sob mixed in with the sound.

Zevlor blinked, his brow furrowing as his head tilted, his heart feeling as though it had stopped, he was so confused, why would this be a relief?

He felt the heat of your hands as they came up to his face, cradling his cheeks, wiping the tears that threatened to fall, and he could see that tears had begun to fall from your own eyes.

“Zevlor, I- i was so scared… I thought- I thought that you were going to leave me… ha~” You smiled laughing quietly as your thumb traced his cheekbone.

“Tav…” He whispered, his eyes closing, his mind beginning to race.

You thought he would leave you.

You were worried he was leaving.

You feared his loss.

You wanted him.

You didn't think of him as a broken, old man.

“Zevlor, listen to me-“ you whispered, and his eyes opened, a soft sigh escaping him.

Your hands moved from his face, and he was about to reach for them again, only he stopped himself as your hands found their way to the hem of your night dress.

With a small nod, and a smile, you pull the material up and off, leaving yourself bare from the waist up, “I told you during the netherbrain war, didn’t I?” You began to grind into him ever so slowly, “That I loved you no matter what happens.”

Zevlor was speechless, his eyes roaming your figure, the sight of you always took his breath away, but now… Now he truly was at a loss for words.

The way you smiled at him, the look of pure love in your eyes, the softness of your touch, the way your voice sounded as you whispered his name, it was all too much… You- you-

“Tav…” His voice cracked, his hands shaking as he brought it up, his fingers ghosting along your cheek, his mind and heart a mess, “You deserve so much better than me, you deserve a man that can provi-“

He was cut off by the warmth of your lips pressing to his. The man melted instantly, his arms wrapping around you and pulling you close… He was drowning in your touch, the taste of your lips, the sweet scent of your skin. He didn’t want it to end, he wanted to be selfish for once…

The way you trembled in his hold, and the way your tongue prodded at his lips, begging for access, like you wanted him, needed him, it had him reeling.

His hand found the back of your head, pulling you closer, his lips parting, the softest moan leaving him… It felt so good, just kissing you, his tongue running along yours, the taste of you.

He wanted to take it further, wanted to feel you against him, but… That was the problem.

You wanted him, and he-

Pulling away, his hand still on the back of your head, keeping you close as he kissed the corner of your mouth, “I’m sorry, Tav… I just can’t pleasure-”

“There are plenty of ways you can still pleasure me, my love. You don't have to be hard in order to make me scream your name,” Your tongue swirled around his neck, biting at his ear, whispering softly, "I still need you, Zevlor, I still want you… Besides, just the sight of you is enough to make me wet-“

Zevlor shuddered, his grip tightening, a dark blush forming on his cheeks, he couldn't help it.

Your hand reached for his tail, “and I’m sure we can get creative~ I still need my hellrider~ and you are the only one that can make me beg~ even if it’s soft and leaking with precum~” You brought the tip of his tail to your lips, sucking and nibbling lightly, “And who else would know how to use their tongue better than my Zevy~"

Zevlor moaned, his eyes glazing over as he watched. Your mouth felt amazing, and the way your tongue rolled against his sensitive tail… Hells, he could already feel his body heating up.

You were always a master with words, knowing exactly what to say and do to make him submit to your whims, to make him feel whole even when he felt broken...

By the end of the night you were both naked, the blanket kicked to the floor, and the bed rocking against the wall.

You were straddling him, his tail buried in your cunt carefully as his mouth was latched onto your breast. His beautiful soft cock drooling cum, pressed between the two of you.

He had come multiple times, and his mind was blissfully numb as his fingers played with your clit, his tongue rolling over your nipple.

“Ze-Zevlor~ Mnnnhaa~ T-Tails s’deep~ L-Love y-you! Love y-ou! S’much! I-I love y-you so-o~ m-much~” You panted, moaning loudly, his tail- by the gods, was it wonderful. It hurt at first, the stretch and the sharp pain, but his careful ministrations made the pain melt away into nothing but pleasure.

He could never be broken in your eyes. It was a simple truth, and there was no way you’d ever let him slip through your fingers. Not ever. Zevlor would always be perfect to you

[lazycats-stuff]

Hiiii! I was wondering if u could so a batfam x deaf male reader? Where everyone in the family knows sign language and all that. But during one of Bruce's galas the reader gets kidnapped and no one's knows until Damian notices that his younger brothers not there anymore? U can decide how u wanna finish it and its completely if Ur not comfortable writing it. Also I love Ur writing 😙

Oh hell yeah. Thank you for loving my questionable writing though.

Summary: (Y/N) is deaf. That doesn't help him when he gets kidnapped.

Warnings: kidnapping, protective family, fluff I guess...

Bruce was protective of all of his children. But he was more protective of (Y/N), his youngest child. Why? The reason is very simple. (Y/N) has been deaf since birth and that made Bruce beyond protective. (Y/N)'s brothers were no better than Bruce. Of course, they knew that deaf people could function normally in society. They knew that very well.

However, problem lies in two points.

First one being that they live in Gotham City. Crime is rampant, criminals are absolutely everywhere and the fact is that you get mugged at any point during the day or night. Although most of criminal life in Gotham operates during the night, no one wants to take any chances.

And even though (Y/N) doesn't go on patrol, Bruce still worried about his youngest son. Always has and always been.

The four birds shared the same sentiment. Everyone made sure to learn sign language and how to live with a deaf person. Rules were determined, such as, if entering (Y/N)'s room, just push your hand in and then flicker the lights on and off to signalize that you are entering. Don't approach (Y/N) from behind because he would often get spooked.

(Y/N)'s own words.

The second problem lies in the last name Wayne. Bruce Wayne is a well known businessman in the world. And the world of business is like a sea full of sharks. Bruce knew that very well. One drop of blood and they would be out for you and your weaknesses. And one of those is your public image.

Bruce was a proud father, attending anything that his children might have. Anything there is. He wants to be there for his kids, sue him. He would never allow work to take him away from his children. And the way he presents himself in the public is the way he is. More often than not, he hates how many people can be ignorant about deafness.

Sure, some may be genuinely curious about it and the questions come from a genuine place of interest. Unfortunately, such people are far few in between. Bruce can sniff them out rather quickly. More often then not, they often look condescending. Which is a rather judgmental way of looking at people, yes, but it's obvious.

Whenever they had a gall, one of the boys would be with (Y/N) to translate. And despite the fact that (Y/N) can read lips, he's not a fan of that. If someone turns their head and he can't see their lips, it gets more complicated.

Even now, as they are at the gala full of people, (Y/N) stuck close to his brothers, needing a translator. Bruce and others often rotated, to make sure that (Y/N) knows what's going on and that he's in the loop. (Y/N) was happy with that he wasn't out of the loop. It's not a good feeling to be out of the loop. Hearing or not.

He signed to Jason that he was going to go to the bathroom, who nodded, sipping his drink.

Jason signed back. " Sure, go ahead. I'll be moving around so don't expect to find me here. "

(Y/N) nodded and started walking to the bathroom. Jason glanced at him for the last time before moving to the table with food, ready for a snack. He was hungry and the catering at galas is just great since rich people pay for it. AKA Bruce Wayne pays for it and he also loves good food.

As Jason went to the food table, (Y/N) was on his way to the bathroom. He was about to enter when someone grabbed him from behind, putting a cloth over his mouth. (Y/N) panicked and tried to remember the self defense that he was taught. He tried to break free from the person, but the smell of the cloth made him go out cold.

Something was off. Damian glanced around the room, trying to spot what that something could have been bothering him so much. His eyes moved around the room, trained to find anything out of the normal. Then it hit him.

Where is (Y/N)?

Damian moved around the room discreetly, trying to figure out where he went. He talked to Jason about it and Jason told him about (Y/N) going to the bathroom. But that was far too long ago... Damian now became more suspicious and worried. He was on edge. He could feel himself getting more and more restless, his mind screaming at him that something is wrong.

He quickly walked over to his family as they all took a chance to breathe on the balcony. Damian made sure that they had some sort of privacy.

" Are you alright Damian? " Bruce asked, glancing over Damian. He could feel that something is wrong with Damian.

" I'm not alright father. I can't seem to find (Y/N) anywhere. " He crossed his arms as he leaned on the railing of the balcony. Everyone tensed up at that.

" Hold on, he went to the bathroom the last time I talked to him, " Jason declared and Damian nodded.

" But it's been far too long though, " Damian countered the point.

" Did he come to anyone, at all? " Bruce asked and everyone shook their heads.

" Okay, maybe he went to his room, " Tim said, trying to provide a logical explanation. " But he would have told one of us where he would go. He would find one of us and he would tell us... " Tim muttered, now worried himself.

" Should we check the security cameras? " Dick asked, worried, but trying not to show it.

" I'll check the cameras near the bathroom. " Bruce took his phone out of his pocket and going into his security feed.

Jason remained silent, feeling guilty that he didn't notice sooner. Bruce noticed and put his hand on his shoulder. " Do not blame yourself Jason. Please. You couldn't have known. This is our home and none of us should be on guard in our own home, " Bruce murmured and Jason sighed.

Bruce brought Jason into a hug. " (Y/N)'s going to be fine. We are going to find him quickly. "

Dick and Tim furrowed their brows. " What do you mean? " Dick asked.

" You 4 have to swear to me that you won't tell (Y/N), " Bruce stepped away from Jason and everyone muttered that they won't tell.

" I put a tracker on his suit. It's a small one, " Bruce admitted and everyone was shocked by it. They knew that their suits that they wear for their vigilante activities have trackers on them, but a normal suit, for galas and other events...

" It's only when we are at galas and such. There's no tracker on him 24/7, " Bruce elaborated before his sons could accuse him of something.

" Well, we can't tell (Y/N). But lets go get (Y/N) please, " Tim said and everyone nodded.

" I'll have Alfred make something up and we'll make a story so it doesn't seem suspicious about why we didn't know (Y/N) was taken. "

And that's what happened. They concocted a story about it and once Batman dropped him off at GCPD, Bruce came in as a worried father. Media had a field day with the story, a father and son reuniting after a such traumatic event. Bruce couldn't care less about them, his sons are his priority. Screw the media.

Understandably, (Y/N) was shaken up by the entire ordeal. Anyone would be shaken up after being kidnapped in their own home, but with (Y/N) being deaf, he couldn't hear anyone walking up to him. Not to mention, they put a bag over his head. Being in the dark, not being able to hear...

It tugged at Bruce's heartstrings. The other 4 weren't immune either. Damian, the normally stoic one, was affected by that aspect. Even he saw how scary it was. Not being able to see due to the bag over your head and not being able to hear because you are deaf sounds like hell. Damian saw it as a form of torture. And in a way it is. Sensory depravation. Only being able to feel with your touch or feel vibrations, but still...

Damian still shuddered as he tried to envision it.

The other 3 shared the very same sentiment.

And even now, as (Y/N) was with them, on the couch, bundled up in blankets, sipping some herbal tea that Alfred made to calm him down. Both Bruce and Alfred were trying to calm him down too. Bruce was going to find a therapist for (Y/N), that much is sure. It would have to be someone who can sign though...

Well, he'll make sure to find one. For now, he'll focus on making sure that (Y/N) is calm enough to try and sleep. Buce knew that adrenaline was still pumping, but that it will stop soon and (Y/N) would essentially crash.

Everyone sat around (Y/N), trying to calm him and make him feel safe again. Bruce and Tim were going to see how in God's name they managed to get into the manor. This place is more safer than Pentagon, designed to keep any intruder out. And he was going to find out why they wanted to kidnap him.

The best bet was probably money, but then again, you never know. And Bruce was going to make sure that he knew why. You have to nip the problem in the bud.

[jockwrites]

LUST - p.b

warnings: angst, cursing, straight people

part: 1

part: 2

a/n: if u can’t tell i love chase atlantic and i love to base writing off of music so..hehe

this will have smut.. but that’s a few chapters down hehe anyway i’m gonna post the second chapter like 10mins after this hahhahaha ok bye

today was the day. the day you’ve been dreading, but you know it’s for the best regardless.

you’re breaking up with your boyfriend.

for 3 months, you’ve been cheating on him. not only are you fucking another person, that person is a girl.

you’ve never called yourself gay, ever. you wouldn’t even consider the term bisexual.

but after you met paige bueckers, your whole world flipped upside down.

she was perfect, in every way. the way she touches you, looks at you, cares for you, every. little. thing.

she made you feel the way a man never has, or could.

but this wasn’t just hooking up to you, even if it was. to you, it felt like love.

the late night drives, long walks, beach trips, she even took you to disney world, a place you’ve been dreaming of since a child.

the first time you two hooked up was at a party. you didn’t mean for it to happen, but it did.

you exchanged glances from time to time, she walked up, complimented your outfit, told you to meet her in the bathroom, & the rest is history.

it all happened way to fast. but it was like a fever dream. and you didn’t even care about the fact she was one of the biggest basketball players in America.

now the main reason you’re breaking up with your boyfriend? it’s because of paige.

she’s hated him since the beginning.

the night after the first hookup, you got her number. she shot you a text, but you told her it’s not something that can be continued because of your boyfriend.

God she hates that word.

you’d vent to her about him a lot. you’d mention his late texts, the constant back and forth between you and work. it was like he never made time for you.

but paige, oh paige. she always had time for you.

between water breaks at practice she’d text or facetime, when at events she calls, even in the locker room before games she sneaks to send you a little heart emoji or an “i’m gonna win for u. love you”

you loved it. actually, you love everything about her.

but the sad part is, your boyfriend is a good guy.

he doesn’t deserve this, and you know it. he can’t help it that he has a tight schedule. but it all feels so right.

as of right now, you’re driving to your boyfriends apartment. alongside the teary eyes and hurting heart, you can’t help but rethink for a minute.

is this what i want? is this what he would want? or is this just what paige wants?

but then again, you realized you want it. you want paige, you want every part of that woman. you love her.

as your car slowly approaches the building, you wipe your tears. you’re ready to face whatever he has to say to you. but the thing is, you have no excuse.

you don’t know what to say to him. you can’t just throw it on him that you’ve been cheating, with a woman.

you sit in the driver seat, thinking about the memories you’ve had with him. all of the good, the bad, it’s all to much for you.

but you have to keep in mind, you want this.

you regain you slowly regain composure, getting out of your car.

you walk into the building, getting on the elevator to go to his apartment.

as you approach the door, you take a few deep breaths. your thoughts are taking over, and that isn’t something you need right about now.

you knock twice, waiting for a response, or any type of noise that signifies he’s here.

as you hear the door knob unlock, you quickly put on a nervous smile.

“hi, jacob!” you exulted nervously.

“hey, what’re you doing here? i was just finishing up some work, so if you wanna come inside, you can.” he smiled, motioning for you to step in.

you walk in, hating this already.

as he closes the door, you turn around toward him.

“jacob, i need to talk to you about something.”

“what is it baby?” he said. “are you okay?”

“no, jacob. i’m not okay. that’s exactly why we need to talk..”

“okay well, sit down baby. you can talk to me about anything.” he smiled.

you sit down, tears ready to flow any second.

you hate this. you hate everything about this.

“jacob, first off, i just wanna say i love you. i love you so so much, and i hope this won’t change anything between us. i know it will, but i can only hope.” you cried.

“baby, baby.” he walked toward you, crouching down to your level to comfort you. “what’s wrong? why’re you crying baby? you can talk to me about anything.”

the problem is you can’t talk to him about anything. not after what you’ve done, or what you’re doing.

“i just want you to know it isn’t you, it’s me. it’s all my fault, and i don’t know what to do.” you whimpered

“what are you talking about?” he worried.

“i wanna end things. im so sorry.” you choked out.

“what? what do you mean? what’s happened?” you can hear the pain in his voice.

God make it stop.

“i cheated. i cheated and i don’t know how to make it up to you. im so sorry jacob, i didn’t mean for it to happen like this. one thing led to another and.. i don’t know how to explain it. but please believe me, i love you.” you rambled, tears streaming like a waterfall.

he sat there and stared at you. the look in his eyes, it hurts you. he seems so angry, hurt, disgusted.

you did this to yourself.

“are you serious? with who? i genuinely cannot believe this.. i love you. and you do this to me?” he rasped.

“i know, i know.” you whined, “im so ashamed. but i just feel happier with her.. i can’t help it.”

as soon as that word left your mouth you immediately back tracked.

“i mean- him. i feel happier with him.” you sobbed.

“her? are you serious? are you actually leaving me for a woman?” he fumed.

“how? how could you do this to me? after everything i’ve done for you. the things i’ve put to risk for you?!” the pain in his voice makes you want to kill your self.

you feel like a horrible person.

you are a horrible person.

“jacob. please hear me out-”

“no,” he cut off. “if she’s better than me then go be with her. i tried my best, and if it wasn’t enough then i hope she is. i hope she treats you better than i did.”

the problem is, that’s the truth.

she does treat you better, and it hurts you.

he’s not her.

“i’m sorry jacob. that’s all i can say.” you cried.

“she can take my place. she might appreciate your sense of humor, and she might just be as equally insane.” he huffed.

“i’m gonna go now. im sorry, i really am. and i love you.”

“i loved you too.”

loved.

you walk out, not looking back. the regret you’re feeling is heavy. but you have to keep reminding yourself,

you wanted this.

after a few minutes you make it back to your car. you get inside, and the first thing you decide to do is call paige.

“i did it.” you sniffle over the phone.

“i’m sorry, it’s gonna be okay. if you want, you can come over baby.” she spoke over the phone, her sympathy showing.

“on my way.”

_______________________________________________

“he didn’t deserve you. you know that.” paige says, comforting you softly.

for about a half hour, you’ve been laying in paige’s arms, pouring your heart out.

“i just feel like- like i made the wrong decision. but at the same time i love you paige.” you sob, your words muffled as your head lays in the crook of her neck.

“look at me. it’s not your fault. after everything you’ve told me, he was not the fit for you. i don’t wanna see you hurt by that moron, you don’t deserve it.” she expressed.

“you really care about me that much paige?”

“what? of course i do. you mean the world to me. i’ll love you forever and always.” she promised.

a/n: ok so this is bad lol but if u enjoyed read the next chap plz lol bye

[mostly-marvel-musings]

Baby whisperer

A/N: My baby fever with Mr. Stark is baacckkkk. Anyone care to join me???

Pairing: Tony Stark x F! Reader

Warning: 18+ fluff

.

You were on the verge of tears at this point.

It had been hours and you were still struggling to get your baby to settle. You had tried everything that normally would get her to fall asleep, you’d fed her, bathed her, placed her in her favourite rocking chair, even sang to her but it wasn’t working tonight.

Nothing was.

With the ever raging hormones, you felt like a failure who couldn’t even get her two month old child to sleep. Her wails were proof enough that you weren’t doing enough.

You were pacing back and forth in her nursery, patting her back gently while she screamed, your clothes already ruined when she spit up earlier. You’d have to take another shower, you thought. But all you wanted was for your baby to settle so you could too.

Like every new parent, sleep was non-existent these days but holding your precious daughter, watching her toothless grin and listening to her incoherent babbles made everything worth it.

She was everything you and Tony ever wanted.

Speaking of Tony, you asked the AI where your husband was, not hiding the irritation in your voice as she informed he was down in his lab, as always.

“Tell him it would be grand if he cared to visit his daughter and distraught wife, would you FRI?” You grumbled, still pacifying your baby whose cries had settled to a certain extent, but she was still fussing about.

“Did someone summon Daddy Stark? How are my favourite girls?” Tony’s arrival didn’t hinder your pacing, his eyes widening slightly when you threw you him your ‘you’re in trouble’ glare.

“She won’t settle today. I’ve tried everything.”

Immediately your baby squirmed in your arms, it was as if she was waiting for her father to hold her. Passing her to Tony carefully, you let out a sigh and took a seat in the plush armchair that sat next to her crib.

“Hazel M Stark, I heard you’ve been a little cranky today. How about we close those beautiful eyes and show Mama we can behave, huh?”

You watched in awe as Tony spoke to Hazel, his voice soft as ever, holding her against his chest as she settled down in minutes. He began humming a lullaby in Italian, one that made her drowsy in no time.

You knew this lullaby since he would often sing it to you during the last few weeks of your pregnancy when you were getting little to no sleep thanks to the discomfort that came with growing a baby in your belly.

He had been a calming factor throughout when you had initially presumed he would freak out the most. Whenever the baby’s kicks woke you up in the middle of the night, all he’d have to do was place his hands over your tummy and she would settle.

It was from then you knew that she’d be Daddy’s little girl. And every day ever since, was just proof that you were right.

It was heartwarming to watch, but equally annoying in times like these. All he would do was lovingly take her in his arms and she’d be content. But to be fair, you were the same when you’d initially got together with the man.

Shocked and offended as you were, you were relieved to see your baby finally calm and quiet, fast asleep before Tony gently laid her in her crib, making sure she had her stuffed rabbit and blanket secured around her.

“Are you sure you don’t secretly have more kids running around?” You joked, shaking your head in disbelief as you gazed down at Hazel, who was now sleeping blissfully.

“Excuse me? If you must know I have three.”

You chuckled, accepting Tony’s hug as he rubbed your back soothingly, placing a loving kiss against the side of your head. It was then when you allowed yourself to fully feel the exhaustion you were ignoring, the ache in your muscles, the heaviness in your eyelids, all of it. If you could, you’d sleep for sixteen hours straight but you knew there was only a couple of hours you would be rewarded with before your newborn would wake up for her feeding.

“Come on, Mama. Let’s get you to bed. I got another special lullaby for you.”

[the-badger-mole]

is sokka viewing katara as a mother figure, or ‘replacement’ for kya, out of character? (replacement is a bad word but i can’t think of another word that would be appropriate)

Sokka contributing to Katara's parentification is not only in character, it's very true to life. The oldest daughter (or in this case only daughter) whether or not she's actually the oldest child, often has to stand in place of her mother, even if her mother isn't dead. It's really common in BIPOC families, but I think it's an almost universal experience at some level (the girl is always seen as so mature, and therefore has more responsibilities at an early age than her brother, cousins, etc.). It's such an insightful addition the story, in fact, I would bet my mortgage that Bryke did it accidentally. Katara's motherly nature was either played for laughs, or meant to show why Aang liked her, so obviously they didn't understand what it was they'd stumbled upon (and is also the reason why Kataang was an absolutely terrible ending for Katara).

Even the scene where Sokka is explaining to Zuko what happened to their mom, the tragedy of how much she had been forced to take on at such a young age, and what replacing Kya for Sokka meant for her wasn't really touched on. Yes, he acknowledges that their mother's death was more traumatic for Katara than him (completely understandable, btw. For a lot of reasons), but he never acknowledges how unfair it was for her- his LITTLE SISTER- to have to take on a motherly role for Sokka. Really think about what that entailed. It's not just that she did his laundry or cooked for him. For Katara to be who he pictures when he thinks of his mom, she had to take on not only her mother's share of the chores, she had to do so much emotional labor for her brother, starting at age 8, and maybe even sooner. It's entirely possible she had been being prepared for that role since before Kya's death.

Side note: This is also why I don't completely accept the headcanon that there was no sexism in the SWT. It wasn't as rigid as the NWT, sure, but it clearly still existed in some form. Had the SWT not been devastated and decimated by the Fire Nation, would Katara- would any woman, for that matter- have been allowed to learn combat waterbending? I have my doubts.

[multch]

Accident.

No outbreak! Joel Miller x Reader [18+] CW: Unspecified age gap \ touching \ suggestive content\ afab Reader

After a wardrobe malfunction at the beach, Mr Miller decides he’s gotten too close- enough is enough- but he couldn't have anticipated the constant teasing that would follow suit..

Sand, sun and some eye-candy, Nothing could be better than this!

Finally coming back home felt fantastic after months away at college. Not only would you get to crash on the much larger bed of your old room but you would also be around for the elaborate summer holidays your parents would take.

Your family was enthusiastic.. To say the least. They were always ecstatic when it came to organizing what annual ‘event’ they would host. You hoped it would be just a simple trip with you and your siblings like last year- maybe someplace where you wouldn’t have to suffer the sweltering heat waves that summer kept offering- Like England or Newzeland!

Unfortunately, your parents had something else in mind:

The beach.

With people you hardly know.

With THE Joel Miller practically babysitting you while they organize it.

Fuck.

Joel Miller has been a friend of both of your parents for a few years now. Having first met him as a helping hand while officially moving out of your parents’ house, he’s proven himself exceptionally helpful. You almost feel bad- You know your dad always makes sure he’s paid for his work, however; you felt like you, personally, had never thanked him properly.

Heck- You’d be happy to thank him quite thoroughly if you know what I mean… 

You could never shake the thoughts you've had since you two first locked eyes. A simple gesture sparking many moons of passionate yearning. Thinking about his muscular arms, his sculpted face and the dark tone of his restless voice. Perhaps even the sounds it would make if your hands wandered achingly slow down his solid chest and towards his big, hard, throbbing…

You wish! Your little crush on him was absolutely trampled on 2 years ago by the sly comment you heard him tell your parents one night. Apparently he had started dating again- probably found someone already, afterall, it has been 2 years..

Still… you couldn’t help but wonder if a beach party could be your chance- maybe not to do.. anything… but you could at least muster up the courage to ask him if he's taken or not.

Right?

You felt butterflies in your stomach, swearing this was a make or break decision.

It took hours of pacing and rapid texting-the night before- but finally you had picked out the perfect bikini for tonight.

It was baby-blue in a gingham print. The bikini itself tied together on both hips and one in-between your breasts- joining in a dainty little bow you had spent ages worrying if it didn't look “effortless enough.” It was cute enough to be semi casual while being mature enough that your relatives wouldn't keep acting like you were an actual child.

You couldn’t help but second guess yourself… Was the effort really worth it? It's just a small get together after all, why would you need to impress anyone?… 

Would you actually impress him?

Could you ever impress him?

*

In the blink of an eye, you gasped at the sudden grasp around your tits. Those hands were large and powerful. They were panicked- almost hesitant however he didn’t seem too keen on letting go. As the wave finished toppling over you two, Joel swiftly pulled you around to face him.

The sight was mouth watering.

Flushed bright red, Joel was quick to glare into your eyes- His were brimming with concern yet crystal clear with honesty and the determination to protect your honor. His hair was wet and sat tousled over his eyes. You couldn’t help but gaze at his bitten lip as he concentrated so deeply between the valley of your breasts- almost as if he was staring directly into your heart. 

It thumped as if it were about to explode.

It might have taken you a few moments to realize but before you could react, Joel was already bent down and trying to re-tie the center string of your bikini top. Being so far out- the waves were ruthless. They crashed over the two of you like an avalanche.

It felt near impossible to keep your balance with Joel tugging you towards him- all the while, the moving sea pulling you-two away from shore.

Instinctively, your hands steadied yourself on Joel’s shoulders. A pink blush spread throughout your face as you began to realize how truly naked you were.

His tanned, bare shoulders were strong and toned from years of strenuous work in the blistering sun. Your exposed stomach fluttering with a flight of butterflies. The memory of his careful touch against a place so sensitive…

His motoring hands slowly came to a stop. As soon as he went to stand up, you quickly dropped your arms. Not knowing where to place them, your hands checked the tight bows around your hips. Luckily, it seemed like your bikini bottoms were secure; however, your top was another story.

The look you gave him was less than impressed…

“Shut up.” He growled without hesitance.

Oh.

It was painfully obvious he was embarrassed.

Cute, you thought.

You shot him back a sly smirk

For a man who spent so long hovering over your bust, his ability to tie the knot was sheepish. Joel had fixed a simple double knot, causing the remaining rope to dangle over your naval.

Letting out a quick sigh, you decided you had enough of the ocean for today. His eyes widened as he felt your brisk grasp on his arm- dragging him back to shore to the best of your ability.

*

Staring at your phone was useless. The mere thought of today's “incident” was enough to keep you running in circles. You sigh as you fall further into the plush cushions that lined the small sofa. Like many family functions, You've sought refuge in the same old fashioned living room. It was a cramped room tucked far within the back end of the house cluttered with old furniture. Fortunately, the abandoned room was silent compared to outside’s blaring ruckus. It was yours.

… at least, it was.

There in the door frame stood a familiar sight;

“Hey… can I speak to you,” Joel sighed, “about earlier today… I'm sorry for-”

“Groping me?” You snarked.

“God, give me a break would ‘ya,” His brows furrowed as his face slowly turned a light shade of pink, “It was either I did that or else you would’ve flashed everyone!”

For a moment, you get lost within the passionate emotion of his southern drawl. He’s so flustered; it almost seems as if he’s annoyed by you too. Maybe you were too calm? Maybe he was too embarrassed. Regardless, His outrage humored you more than you would like to admit- forcing a chuckle to erupt from within you.

“What? You think this is funny?” He spat- rolling his eyes.

"A little…”

…

The room sat still in deafening silence until…. “BAAHAHAHHAAHAAHAHA- oh my god, ok so maybe a lot,” you giggled, “I'm so sorry but really I don’t see why you care so much?”

Joel was practically fuming. Hot pink- he was humiliated “Get a grip!, damn you little-”

“Did you just tell me to get a grip? I would but it seems you’ve grabbed enough things today for the two of us-”

Before you had the chance to laugh, your eyes widened at the sight of the one and only Joel Miller rushing towards you with a salty smile and a couch pillow hurling towards you.

HWACK! You squealed at the sudden collision. Despite being a pillow, when punted hard enough at a victim, it proves itself as an effective weapon.

“GOT ‘YA!” He gasped- now standing over you. As you opened your eyes, they locked with his. 

Your mouth sat smug, readying yourself for a moment to strike back. His eyes! it was for a brief moment yet you were lucky enough to catch them darting down to your lips. 

Ha!

Your tactic: the element of surprise. When his gaze returned, it took all your power to summon the courage to muster out the question plastered across your heart for so long.

It was now or never, you assured.

“Jo- Mr Miller,” you stated, “this is so awkward but… I was wondering if you were in a relationship?”

“What's it to you?” He chuckled, shifting to rest his palm on the armrest beside you.

“I… um..” you tightened your grip on the pillow.

The look in his eyes was enough to tell you.

Fuck.

“Ah… shit.., look ‘sweetpea, y'know your daddy and I are buddies…” he tried telling you but he knew he couldn't steer you away.

“And? So what, I'm an adult,” You barked, “C'mon Joel- I really like you!”

The truth came bubbling out, you didn't expect to actually tell him. Not tonight. Not ever. Happily watching from the sidelines was a hobby- you imagined him in your future. Confessing to him; however, was never foreseen. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

With your vision glossing over, this wave of dread was suffocating. Before you could excuse yourself, you felt his familiar grasp on your hand. Unlike before, his touch wasn't hesitant. Instead, his grip was determined, driven yet caring.

He grazed his thumb side to side across the back of your hand. His fingers kissing yours with each rough callous and soft intention.

The surprised action made your eyes widen, you raised your head up high only to see the sight of Joel Miller looking back at you like how one looks at a puppy- as if his heart had melted.

A bright pink flush and bitten lips, it was clear he had something to say stuck on the tip of his tongue. 

“Y/N.” 

“Joel.”

He bent down and held the side of your face. Dark and hazy, his eyes glazed over with ambition. “You're so pretty, y'know that?” He kissed onto your lips.

With that said, you stretched your arms up and placed them on his broad shoulders, merging your mouth with his. He nipped at your bottom lip, asking for entry. You gave in, allowing him access to explore each and every crevice with his tongue. 

Was it mere minutes or years you had been kissing for? You couldn't tell. Regardless, at some point you had to pry yourself apart in order to grant yourself a moment to breathe. Your lips felt so tender and bruised- God, how you missed his touch.

He fell to sit beside you, the old couch creaking as he sat down. “Do you normally make out with men twice your age?” He teased.

“Oh, Shut up!” you said before chucking the pillow at his chest with a loud thud.

[leahrintarou]

Suna with an s/o who's really scared of thunderstorms pls?? Your work is always so awesome btw-

✩₊˚.⋆ SAFE & SOUND - suna rintarou

CW: y/n is scared of thunderstorms ofc, suna being a sweetheart, fluff, she cries just a teeny bit, reader with she/her pronouns.

Word Count: 1k

Author's Note: hi guysss, i hope that you enjoy reading this! i found it sweet and cute to write so i hope you enjoy it anon. (i'm so happy that you like my works btw!) ty for reading ;D show your support by leaving a like or reblogging :P

ever since she was a child, a mere girl in grade school, the reverberations of thunder and the harsh flashes of lightning that bled through her window panes had filled her with dread, a fear that dug deep into her very being. the tremors of anticipation, the oppressive silence before the crackling sky split open, and the way the air itself seemed to hold its breath—all conspired against her peace, robbing her of sleep. those sleepless nights became a constant companion, gnawing at her young mind with a persistent unease that lingered long after the storm clouds had passed. tonight was no different.

y/n lay beside suna, her eyes wide open, pupils dilated against the darkness. exhaustion weighed heavy on her bones, yet her mind refused to surrender. though her body ached for rest, her thoughts churned restlessly, denying her the release of slumber. beside her, suna embodied tranquility, his form rising and falling with each untroubled breath. he was a man who could sleep through any chaos—be it the squabble of the twins or even the catastrophic shockwave of a sonic boom. he seemed impervious, shielded from the disquiet of the world by some blessed indifference.

his arms were folded beneath his pillow, his broad back exposed and facing her, a silent wall between his peaceful dreams and her waking nightmare. his head, cushioned against the soft fabric, was turned away, as if even in sleep, he sought to shield her from his contentment. the room lit up briefly as lightning cast spectral shadows against the walls, and y/n stiffened, every muscle bracing for the inevitable roar that would follow. the thunder did not disappoint, crashing through the silence like a judge’s gavel, making the house shudder beneath the sound. her hands trembled as she curled into herself, seeking comfort where there was none.

she stole a glance at suna, his features serene and undisturbed, and guilt twisted in her gut. he had been through so much this week—long hours, relentless days—and waking him for something as trivial as this felt selfish. she should have outgrown this irrational terror; it was a childish fear, something to be dismissed like nightmares in the light of day. yet, here she was, her heart racing with each peal of thunder as if it were some primordial beast come to claim her. each fresh rumble tore another sob from her throat, her arms tightening around herself in a futile attempt to hold it together. her breathing was ragged, panic prickling at her lungs, and tears gathered at the corners of her eyes, spilling over to stain the sheets below.

a sob broke free, soft but sharp, piercing the quiet. though suna was impervious to the clamor of the world, there was one sound he could never ignore. his eyelids fluttered open, his gaze bleary and unfocused, drawn to her shape beside him. “sweetheart?” his voice was thick with sleep, rough around the edges, like sandpaper against silk.

for a moment, confusion clouded his eyes, but comprehension dawned swiftly as the storm outside roared its fury, shadows of the tempest dancing across their room. “shhh, it’s alright. you’re safe, y/n,” he murmured, the haze of sleep dissipating as he reached for her, drawing her trembling form close. his voice, though still laced with fatigue, was warm and reassuring, an anchor in the midst of the storm.

“it’s so loud,” she whispered, her tears falling freely now, soaking into the pillow they shared. he felt a pang of guilt, a knife twisting in his chest, for her suffering. “why didn’t you wake me, sweetheart?” he asked gently, his thumb brushing away the wetness on her cheeks.

“you’re tired,” she mumbled, shaking her head, her voice laced with resignation.

he huffed, a sound that was half-amused, half-exasperated, and he found her chin, tilting her face up towards his. “and so are you. how long have you been up?” she shrugged, the movement small and helpless, and his hand slipped beneath her shirt, tracing soothing patterns along her lower back.

“a few hours,” she admitted, her voice barely more than a breath.

suna cursed himself silently, frustration simmering beneath his calm exterior. he should have known. he had been aware of the storm’s approach, but the knowledge had slipped away, lost in the depths of his exhaustion. another roll of thunder reverberated through the house, and y/n flinched, pressing closer to him as if seeking refuge. he pulled her nearer, her head resting against his bare chest, his heart beating steadily beneath her ear. “it’ll pass soon, okay?” he promised, his voice a low murmur against the crown of her head.

she wanted to believe him, to let his words soothe her frayed nerves, but it wasn’t about how long the storm would last. it was about the fact that it was happening at all, that the fear was still there, alive and pulsing, even after all these years. suna’s hand left the warmth of her skin, and she looked up, startled, as he placed both palms gently over her ears.

her world muffled, the roaring tempest outside reduced to a distant murmur, and she blinked up at him, eyes wide with surprise. the thunder rolled again, a muted tremor through the house, but the sound did not reach her. only the soft vibration of the walls registered, the storm’s voice silenced by his touch. “better?” he asked, his lips brushing against her temple.

she nodded, a sigh of relief escaping her lips. suna leaned down, his breath warm against her skin, pressing a tender kiss to her forehead and then to her lips, the gesture gentle and comforting. he guided her back down, her head resting once more against his chest, his hands still shielding her from the storm’s wrath.

she could hear his heartbeat, a steady, soothing rhythm beneath her ear, even as his hands softened the world around them. “thank you, rin,” she whispered, her voice heavy with fatigue.

he hummed, a deep, resonant sound that she felt more than heard, the vibration echoing through his chest and through her, anchoring her in the present moment, safe in the circle of his arms. for the first time that night, the fear began to ebb, her eyes growing heavy as the storm raged on outside, distant and far away, a mere echo of the terror it once was.

“get some sleep now, sweetheart. I’ve got you."

got a request? send it in and i'll write it :D

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[agatharkn3ss]

Spoilers!

Theory on Agatha/Rio past

.

.

We know Rio joins the coven next week, climbing out of (what looks like) Sharon's grave and will be part of the next trial.

We also get a sneak peak on how the trial starts - but in the extended version, after the coven disperses to find the clue, we see Rio standing behind Agatha and saying "boo". Agatha seems stirred but eventually she replies a very decisive "No".

https://www.instagram.com/reel/DAEWgBZIVeT/?igsh=MW5wcHJtbjJ1N3I3NA==

Now - I, for one, would love this brief moment to be about the sexual tension and how they can't keep away from each other. However, I think Rio's unspoken suggestion is actually about killing the rest of the coven. Especially that in another promo we hear Agatha telling Rio that "she needs these witches to get her what she wants".

So I think their past might be something like they were always just the two of them together against the world, and that they used to find witches for Agatha to syphon power from, and Rio would help her. This would sit well with Rio's chaotic energy and the theory that she's Lady Death.

I also think that despite all her bravado, Agatha actually longs to be a part of a coven. After her own mother's coven turner against her, she would've tried to form her own sisterhood. We see in a promo that she's sucking energy from a group of women around her, so probably another coven turning against her for whatever transgression this time.

It's probably caused by something Agatha did (although in my eyes she can do no wrong!), but I wonder if at some point Rio doesn't start meddling here.

Maybe Rio meets Agatha and becomes fascinated by this loud and unapologetic witch, so she wants her all for herself. She starts meddling so that Agatha is more and more isolated and betrayed by other witches and begins to think that maybe a coven is not something she wants any more and that she can only rely on herself and Rio. Eventually she gives in and the two of them enjoy their lives together, causing chaos and tricking other witches for a few centuries - something akin to Louis and Lestat in the Interview with the Vampire (maybe they even split up because of a child, like the vampires?)

We don't know how long it's been since they've been apart, but we know it's since Agatha acquired the Darkhold, so probably a fair chunk. But now Rio found her again and she misses Agatha and wants back the chaos life they led. She was never intent on killing Agatha, I don't think, but she wanted to see her hurt. But when she finds out Agatha doesn't have her powers, she realises it will be tricky to go back to where they were until Agatha has magic again. She starts scheming again, maybe she even hopes that Agatha will be able to syphon the Salem Seven? Or that Rio can play the hero, save Agatha and show her how much Agatha needs her?

But instead of fighting or running, Agatha assembles a coven. And she actually seems to enjoy it - I mean, look at them singing the ballad. Even though Agatha is impatient to open the gate or get some magic blasts flowing, she does take a pause at the end of the song, clearly enjoying it.

In episode 3 she has her soft moments too. She clearly doesn't feel like part of the sisterhood yet, because she's wary of her past experiences - she tries to protect herself by offsetting any moments of kindness with some jerk behaviour (I think that's the only reason she kicked everyone after sliding out or the first trial) and show them she doesn't need them. But you can tell she fits into her role as a leader so well and maybe even is surprised by it. And just look how she enjoys herself in episode 4 band!

I think Rio is opportunistic, so after Sharon's send off, she sees her way in, but what are her intentions for joining?

She might just enjoy the chaos and hope for fun "like the old times", maybe expecting Agatha to intend to kill the witches like before. Or she might want to keep meddling so that Agatha doesn't abandon her for a coven. Or there is something else and she actually wants something from the Road? Or all of the above?

[winchesterwild78]

Unexpected Twist

Characters: Jensen x Reader (wife)

Warnings: injury, language, mention of pregnancy, morning sickness, anger, hurt, fluff

A/N: A quick story idea from @cheekygirl2309. Jensen and reader are married, he’s away filming and gets injured. Reader takes care of him despite his protests, and her unexpected pregnancy. This does not depict real life and is a work of fiction. No disrespect to Jensen or his family.

All work is your own, do not take it or copy it.

Minors DNI 18+

The soft hum of the plane filled the cabin as you drifted off to sleep. You were on your way to surprise Jensen, your husband, who was currently filming his latest project in Canada. This was your first extended separation since you’d married, and you missed him terribly. But you were also excited to see him and to share a secret you'd been keeping: you were pregnant with your first child.

As the plane descended, you couldn't contain your excitement. you imagined the look on Jensen's face when you walked through the door of our rented house. It would be a surprise he'd never forget.

When you walked in the house you were met by silence. You sent Jensen a text to see if he was filming or on his way home.

You: Hey babe. Just wanted to say hello and I miss you.

Jensen: Hey sweetheart, I miss you too. I’m still on set. I’m thinking maybe a few more hours. When I get home I’ll FaceTime you. I can’t wait to see your beautiful face.

You: Okay babe. Have fun and I love you. I can’t wait to see you too.

Jensen: I love you too, Y/N. So much.

You set your phone down and started to unpack. You’d packed for a week, taking off time from work to be there. When you married Jensen, it was important to you to keep working. You loved your job and you wanted to contribute to the household. Jensen was supportive, but you knew deep down he wanted you to quit, mainly so you could travel with him.

After unpacking, fixing something to eat, you took a shower and put on some comfy clothes. Your body was exhausted from traveling, and early pregnancy. As you climbed in the bed to rest, you placed your hand on your belly and rubbed softly. You smiled and drifted off to sleep thinking about the growing baby in your belly, and what the future will look like once they are born.

Unfortunately, your sleep was shattered early the next morning. Your phone rang, jolting you awake. It was a local hospital. Jensen had been in an accident on set and was injured. He had broken his ankle. Your heart sank.

You quickly gathered your things and rushed to the hospital. When you arrived, you found Jensen in a cast, his face a mix of pain and surprise. He was relieved to see you, but you could tell he was upset.

“Babe, what are you doing here?” Jensen asked from his hospital bed. You dropped your bag and ran to his side, throwing your arms around him. “I came in to surprise you, I was at the house asleep and the hospital called me. Jensen, what happened?”

Jensen’s jaw tightened, “It was a stupid fucking accident. I landed wrong, fell backwards and broke my damn ankle in two places.” “Oh Jensen, I’m so sorry.” Tears fell from your eyes. You kissed his lips and he wiped your tears away. “Shhh it’s okay baby. I’m okay.”

The doctor explained that Jensen would need round-the-clock care. Your heart ached for him, but you were determined to be there for him. You knew this would be a challenging time, but you were also grateful for the opportunity to spend more time with your husband.

The doctor gave you Jensen’s discharge papers, explaining he had to stay off the ankle for at least 6-12 weeks. At this time Jensen didn’t need surgery. When the doctor said Jensen would need round the clock care, Jensen’s jaw clenched. You kissed Jensen and left to pull the car around. When they wheeled Jensen out, you saw the anger and disappointment in his eyes. When he looked at you, his eyes softened. Jensen had always hated feeling like he was a burden, and now needing round-the-clock care, he really felt like it.

You helped him into the car and he kissed your cheek as you pulled yourself out of the car. You smiled at him, and he smiled at you. Climbing into the driver’s seat you took his hand in yours. “It’s going to be fine, Jensen. I’m here for you, I’ll always be here for you.”

Jensen nodded, but you could still feel the tension coming from him. “Shit! I need to call work. This is going to set us back so far with filming. Damn it!” Jensen ran his hand through his hair in frustration.

He called his manager and told them what happened. They told Jensen not to worry, they would call and take care of everything. He told them once he got cleared he would be back at work.

When he hung up he looked over at you. “I still can’t believe you’re here. Thank you for surprising me, sorry I ruined the surprise by getting hurt.”

You sighed softly, “Jensen, honey, stop. You didn’t ruin anything, and this isn’t your fault. It was an accident. Besides, now you’re stuck with me for a few weeks. I’ll be your beck and call girl. Anything you need, I’ll make it happen.” He chuckled a little and grinned, “Anything?” He wiggled his eyebrows. You giggled, “Yes, baby, anything you need.”

Once the two of you got back home you helped him out of the car. When you opened the door to help him inside a sudden wave of nausea hit you. You held your breath and tried to focus on Jensen and helping him get inside. A little bit of bile creeped up your throat and you swallowed hard, trying to keep it down.

Jensen noticed you and asked if you were okay. You nodded, not trusting your voice. Getting him inside you set him up in the living room, while you ran to the bathroom to empty the contents of your stomach. Unfortunately for you, your stomach was empty so it was mostly bile and dry heaving.

Brushing your teeth, you walked back into the living room. Jensen was mindlessly flipping through the channels on the television. “Jens, do you need anything other than food? It’s almost time for your medicine, so I’m going to cook you something. What would you like?”

Jensen sat thinking for a minute, “You know I’d really love some breakfast, eggs, bacon, toast and coffee.” “Do you have all that here, or do I need to run to the store?” “I think we have it here. I can go check.”

You placed your hands on your hips, “Jensen, no. I’ll go look. You have to stay off your ankle.” Jensen huffed and groaned, “Fine.” You smiled, walked over and kissed his lips softly, “I love you, Jensen. This is for the best. We need you to get better.”

Jensen’s eyebrows lifted, “I can think of something that can make me better.” He smirked. You laughed, “I need to feed you and give you your medicine, remember we have to stay in front of the pain. Maybe later.” You winked.

Jensen let out a long sigh, it was full of frustration and something else, desire maybe. You touched his shoulder and walked into the kitchen to start cooking. Grabbing everything you needed your mind drifted to the baby. Trying to figure out when was the best time to tell Jensen.

The two of you had talked about children, but agreed to wait a little while longer. Mainly because Jensen had all his new projects and conventions coming up. He wanted to be present during the pregnancy, and he knew right now was not the best time.

Your joy filled heart clenched. A tear slipped out at the thought of the timing and the possibility of him being upset about it. Continuing cooking the smell of the different foods and coffee mixed in the air. The smell became overwhelming and it sent you running to the bathroom.

You sat on the cold tile of the floor, head bent down as you tried to stop the nausea. There is no way I can keep this from him for too long. As you exited the bathroom you heard Jensen call you.

“Sweetheart, are you okay? It sounded like you were getting sick.” You walked into the living room and smiled softly, “Yeah, I’m okay. Probably just airplane food.” You chuckled softly.

Jensen knew something was wrong, partly because he knew you never ate anything on the plane. He let it go. You finished cooking and brought Jensen his food. As you sat beside him, he looked over at you, “Thank you baby, this looks delicious. Aren’t you going to eat?” You shook your head, “Not right now. I’m not very hungry.” He nodded and continued eating.

When Jensen was finished eating you took his plate and went into the kitchen. You cleaned up the kitchen and went back to the living room and sat beside Jensen.

He was flipping through the channels again and you heard him grunt, turning off the television and sitting the remote down.

Jensen laid his head back on the couch and sighed. You looked over at your husband and could feel his pain and frustration.

Touching his arm you said, “Babe, I know you’re frustrated, but we can figure something out for you to do while you’re home.”

“What?! What am I going to do besides sitting on my ass?! That’s all I’m fucking good for right now. Just leave me alone for a while.” You jumped at the anger and harshness in his voice.

You felt the tears prick your eyes, putting your head down and taking your hand away, you whispered “I’m sorry.”

You got up and walked out of the room. Locking yourself in the bathroom, you sat on the side of the tub and let the tears fall. You knew he didn’t mean it, but it still hurt to hear him talk to you like that.

After a few minutes you washed your face and took a deep breath before you opened the door.

Stepping into the hallway, the house was quiet. As you walked towards the living room your heart raced.

Jensen was still sitting on the couch. “Jens, I’m going to the store. Do you need anything?” Jensen didn’t look at you, all he said was “whiskey”.

You swallowed hard. “Baby, I don’t think you can drink with your medicine the doctor gave you for pain.” “Then I won’t take it. Get me some whiskey or I’ll get it myself.”

You stood in silence. Your heart broke. Jensen had never been so cruel to you. “Jensen I’m not getting you alcohol, and you can’t drive. I don’t want you to end up in the hospital or worse because you got drunk while taking your medication. You need the medicine for the pain, you can’t just not take it. Please baby, don't let this minor setback get to you like this.”

Jensen’s jaw clenched. He stood and looked at you, “A minor setback? Are you kidding me?! Fuck! This is just my career going up in smoke. You know, the one that affords our lifestyle. One where you can fly across the country when you want to.”

You gasped and tears flooded your eyes. Jensen instantly regretted what he said when he saw the hurt in your eyes.

You turned around as the tears fell. You grabbed your bag and keys and walked outside. You got in the car, started it and drove away. The tears were falling fast and sobs left your body.

You pulled over because it got so bad you couldn’t see to drive. Your heart was broken. How could you tell him you’re pregnant? He’s so angry and taking it out on you.

Determined to be the best wife you could be, you went to the grocery store and bought groceries for the next week. You also picked up some prenatal vitamins and other things you needed. You called your boss and told them you’d be out for a while due to Jensen’s injury. They were less than happy and told you to either be back in a week or don’t come back at all. So you told them you wouldn’t be back.

After you hung up the weight of the day came crashing down. You didn’t know what to do. The one person you’d talk to about everything was part of the problem. You felt so alone.

It was getting dark by the time you got back home. When you walked in Jensen was no longer on the couch. You saw the door to the bedroom closed. You opened it softly and saw Jensen laying in the bed asleep. You closed the door softly.

Heading out to the car you carried in load after load of groceries. Once all the bags were inside you started to put up the food. Throwing away the bags your heart sank. In the trash was an empty whiskey bottle you knew wasn’t there before you left.

You sighed and started getting dinner ready. You were exhausted, both mentally and physically but you needed to eat. You made baked chicken, roasted potatoes and vegetables.

Putting everything in the oven you sat down and turned on the television. You were flipping through the channels when you saw Supernatural was on. It was Season 15 so Jensen was older.

Your heart flipped when you saw him. You always loved watching him and watching the things he did. You were incredibly proud of him and even more so being his wife.

The television was the only sound in the room. You laid your head down and pulled a blanket on you, and your eyes closed.

The sound of the oven timer going off pulled you from your slumber. You got up, noticing the bedroom door still closed and you went into the kitchen.

You pulled the dish out of the oven and sat in on the hot plate. You walked to the bedroom door, and looked in. Soft snores came from Jensen. You closed the door and went to the kitchen.

Putting some food on a plate, you took it to the table with your water and sat down. Your heart was still so heavy from everything. You had to force yourself to eat.

Thinking about the baby, you ate your fill. Thankfully you were able to keep the food down. When you finished eating you cleaned up and put the rest of the food away.

After the kitchen was clean you went to the bathroom to take a shower. The warm water hugging you like a long lost friend. You needed Jensen, you wanted to feel his arms around you.

Standing under the water you cried. Sobs filled your body. As you turned off the water, your hand touched your stomach. “I’m sorry baby. I’m going to fix this. I promise.”

You pulled on some clean underwear and one of Jensen’s shirts. Leaving the bathroom you made sure everything was locked up and turned off.

Deciding to give Jensen space you went into the guest room. You closed the door and climbed into the bed. Your heart ached for Jensen. Tears fell and you cried into the pillow.

You didn’t know Jensen had woken up while you were in the shower, hearing your sobs. The guilt was washing over him. He laid there listening to you and trying to muster the courage to apologize for being an ass, but he knew you’d be angry smelling the alcohol on his breath. So he just laid there.

When he heard you leave the bathroom and locking up the house he prayed you’d come to bed. Hearing the guest bedroom door close, his heart sank. Jensen knew he messed up.

Jensen was so angry he got hurt, but even more so at himself for taking it out on you. He needed to apologize but he wasn’t sure if you’d want to talk to him.

He pulled himself out of bed and grabbed the crutches the doctor had given him. Steadying himself he made his way to the guest bedroom. Opening the door carefully he saw you laying in the bed with his shirt on and his heart swelled. You were sleeping so peacefully. Your hair laying around your head like a halo. The soft glow of the streetlights casting shadows across your face.

Jensen stepped into the room and sat on the side of the bed. He lightly touched your face, “Sweetheart, wake up.” Your eyes fluttered open and you saw Jensen sitting next to you. His green eyes filled with regret and sadness.

You sat up and threw your arms around his neck and sobbed into his chest. Jensen rubbed your back and kissed your head. “Shhh it’s okay baby. I’m so sorry. This wasn’t your fault and I took it out on you. Baby please forgive me. I’m an ass and I’ll spend the rest of my life making up foe what I said.”

You pulled away, “Jensen, you really hurt me. I know you’re angry about your injury, but you have to know the way you spoke to me wasn’t okay.”

Jensen hung his head in shame, “I know baby. I swear I’ll never speak to you like that again. I love you so much.”

You tilted his chin up and looked in his eyes, “I know you do baby. I love you too.” You placed a soft kiss on his lips.

“Come on darlin’, let’s go to our room.” Jensen stood with the crutches and started to walk out of the room. He stopped when he saw you weren’t moving. “What’s wrong Y/N?”

You took a deep breath, “Jens, I need to tell you something.” Jensen was nervous, “Okay baby. You know whatever it is you can tell me.”

Taking a deep breath you looked in your husband’s eyes, “Jensen, I came to surprise you this week because I missed you. I missed being in your arms. I missed your kiss, and your ability to make me feel that no matter what everything was going to be okay. I also missed making love until we were both exhausted and completely satisfied. But, that all pales in comparison to why I wanted to come see you. A few days after you left I had a check up at the doctor. I got some news I didn’t want to tell you over the phone. So I had to come see you. Then once I got here, everything got turned upside down. You were hurt and angry. It just didn’t feel like the right time to talk to you. I’m so scared, Jensen. Scared of what this will do to us, what it means for us.”

Jensen’s heart broke at your words. This was his fault, why you felt you couldn’t talk to him. His anger and him lashing out broke something between you two. He took a deep breath, “Baby, whatever it is we will do it together. I’m not going anywhere. I love you more than anything and I’m so sorry I’ve made you feel like you can’t talk to me. You can always talk to me. It’s my job as your husband to share the load with you. Please, sweetheart, talk to me. What did the doctor say?”

You met your husband’s green eyes and said, “I’m pregnant.”

Jensen’s eyes went wide. At first you couldn’t read his expression. Your heart thumped loudly in your chest.

He leaned down, took you in his arms and crashed his lips to yours. The kiss was filled with passion and joy. You returned the kiss with equal fervor. Pour all your love and forgiveness into it.

Jensen pulled away and looked at you smiling. “You’re really pregnant? We’re going to have a baby?” You nodded yes.

“You’re not upset, Jens?” “Oh no, baby. I’m so happy. We’re having a baby!”

Tears pricked your eyes as you kissed him again. “Jensen, let’s go to bed.” You climbed out of bed and walked with him to your shared room. Helping him take off his pants, the both of you climbed into bed and he pulled you in his arms.

“Thank you sweetheart for being here to take care of me even if I’m a jackass, and thank you for having my baby. God I love you. I don’t deserve you.”

“I love you too, Jensen, and yes you do. You deserve so much. I can’t wait to bring our baby into this world. They are going to be so loved.”

Jensen placed his hand on your belly, “They already are.”

As you laid beside Jensen, him holding you close, you realized that your lives had taken an unexpected turn. But you were determined to face whatever challenges came your way, together. No matter what it was.

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[crescent-blades]

Pregnant | Kokushibo

| Type: Fluff 💞 | Warnings: Labour/Pregnancy | WC: 1.2k

[A/n: It's unclear what the canon implications would be if a demon were to successfully impregnate a human, but for the sake of this scenario, let's just imagine that the result is a healthy child who is half demon and half human.]

𖤐ˎˊ˗Masterlist

  ̗̀➛It had been a while since you and Kokushibo had been married. Honestly, he had never thought things would turn out this way—to marry someone was the last thing on his mind. Yet, here he was, making choices he never thought he would make.   

  ̗̀➛ The humans he met showed little potential. They lacked the skills needed to become strong, upper ranked demons. So, the idea of having a successor—a child of his own—began to take shape in his mind. He knew his child would definitely have immense potential and could likely be a successor to moon breathing.. so it wasn't a bad idea.  

  ̗̀➛The news of your pregnancy—well.. actually, it wasn't you who shared the news with him. It was Kokushibo who brought the news to you. 

  ̗̀➛ It wasn't surprising though, having Kokushibo as your husband would be like having a walking, talking pregnancy detector around.  

  ̗̀➛I mean, he'd literally even know exactly when the sperm attached to your ova, all thanks to his see through world.  

  ̗̀➛You didn't even know that you were pregnant yet. It was just one day in, as you prepared for bed and arranged the sheets. Your husband approached you with his typical stoic expression. He gazed at you for a brief moment—  

"Hmm.. I see.."   

  ̗̀➛You’d brighten up at his presence, feeling happy yet a bit puzzled by his sudden, unusual behaviour. 

 "I can see.. 'life' developing inside you. How delightful.."   

  ̗̀➛Being your husband, Kokushibo would feel that it is his duty to be taking care of you, especially when you'd be carrying his child. So throughout your pregnancy, he'd make sure to take extra care of you, paying more attention to your needs.  

  ̗̀➛ Though it was definitely going to be difficult. Being a demon, he could only come out at night, which meant he couldn't be there for you through the day. This thought definitely made him feel uncomfortable. Hence, he would encourage you to stay with him in the infinity castle (separate from the rest of the demons) so he can take proper care of you.  

  ̗̀➛However, he'd know that being deprived of the sun could also be detrimental to your and your baby's health, so he'd make sure to always drop you off somewhere safe from time to time, likely in your parent's/relatives house. Making sure you are in safe hands.   

~Though knowing Muzan- now he'd definitely question your husband:  

"--A human woman?"

His voice carried a touch of curiosity, laced with a hint of amusement. "I entrusted you with one simple task, Kokushibo. Locate the blue spider lily and uncover the Ubuyashiki mansion. More than a century has passed, and yet you and the demons have not unearthed a single clue about either."    Muzan exhaled slowly, pacing around as he looked down at the upper one, who was kneeling in front of him, his head downcast as in a bow.   "And now you’ve chosen to play these petty games, and with a human at that? I expected much better from you, Kokushibo.."  

"I have no excuses to make, my lord.. Indeed, I fell in love with a woman, a human.. and now I have sworn to protect her and my offspring."   "However.. I assure you.. my lord.. that my decisions shall not interfere with my responsibilities.."   

  ̗̀➛Typically, Muzan would never permit his demons to make such significant decisions; however, he made an exception for Kokushibo.

  ̗̀➛Throughout your pregnancy, your husband would keep a close eye on you. Make sure you are in good health, at all times.   

  ̗̀➛Have any questions about the baby? There's no need to go to the doctor, just ask Kokushibo, and he'll tell you everything. The baby's weight, health. Everything. [Again, thanks to the transparent world]   

  ̗̀➛He would advise you to not strain yourself too much, urging you to rest, understanding that you are in a vulnerable state. If you found yourself trying to carry something, he'd silently snatch it from you. Try to walk too much, and he'd silently just pick you up and place you on the bed. 

 "--You.. ought to rest.. my dear.." 

  ̗̀➛As for your strange cravings, he'd definitely consider them strange and, rather, amusing. Sure, he has dealt with a pregnancy before, and he is aware that his-ex wife may have had cravings too. But his knowledge was very limited due to the presence of many servants, as well as his memories failing him over the years. However, witnessing your cravings firsthand is definitely.. something.          

"Dear, could you bring me some mochi with chilli sauce?" "Some ice cubes with ketchup?"     

  ̗̀➛Each day your craving got weirder and weirder, which both entertained and concerned him, even though he could tell that nothing was wrong with you.

  ̗̀➛Still, as much as it had worried him, Kokushibo had always managed to somehow fulfil your requests, always bringing the strange foods you sought.         

  ̗̀➛ At first, when he presented you with these unusual cravings, his expression remained stoic, devoid of any visible emotion. However, it wouldn't be long before you noticed him, softly chuckling to himself at your bizarre requests. Observing you curiously if you truly enjoyed them.      

  ̗̀➛ There were times, however, when he'd stop you from binge eating too much food, which he considered unhealthy. Surpisingly, he was gentle while urging you to try something healthier.      

"We have some fruits.. I can make a salad for you.. if you wish.."       

  ̗̀➛ Of course, you are pregnant, so your body is going through many changes. You'd find yourself battling those horrible cramps along with persistent back pain, nausea, and those frustrating headaches.. It was difficult to even work effectively because of your fatigue.  

  ̗̀➛ In that case, Kokushibo would notice your discomfort immediately.    

"...your.. 'pregnancy'.. has made your body go through many changes.. the child grows.. as well your body.."   

  ̗̀➛ He would address you in a gentle manner, speaking to you in an "as a matter of fact" tone. His six eyes locked on you with a tender gaze, inspecting you thoroughly, making sure you were okay..   

 "As of now.. your muscles are stiff, and tight.. Here.. let me ease the pain for you-"    

  ̗̀➛He would speak softly, his voice deep as he carefully positioned you on your side, beginning to work on your back. His big, sturdy hands were surprisingly tender, applying just the right amount of pressure to alleviate your discomfort. He already knew the exact areas where you were experiencing pain, moving his hand and gently kneading those areas with the base of his hands and thumbs, working up and down your back.     

  ̗̀➛When it comes to choosing a name for the child, Kokushibo can be extremely thoughtful. He'd find/make a name with a deep meaning, one that would embody the meaning of "strength" or "excellence" [kind of like his own father].           

  ̗̀➛During labour, he'd mostly leave it up to the midwife and you female relatives, as he did not wish to intrude or make you feel uneasy, believing that childbirth was women's business.

  ̗̀➛ Though he would occasionally offer words of encouragement, urging you to remain strong and reassuring you that all would be well. While you were in labour, he would remain outside, pace around as you brought new life into the world.