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targaryen-dynasty · 4 months

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DEEP DEVOTION.

Daemon Targaryen x pregnant!Targaryen!Reader

WARNINGS: SEXUAL CONTENT - MDNI; canon typical incest/targcest (implied), p in v, oral (fem receiving), cockwarming, pregnant sex, lactating, lactation kink

WORDS: 2.5 K

NOTES: Sorry, I love deleting and editing older stuff. This is an oldie - use it to prepare for my Cregan lactation kink stuff. 😌

✖️ 𝐚𝐝𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐲 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭!

If there’s something you admire about your husband it’s that he has always been a generous lover. It’s his ample experience that truly pays off whenever you two are staying in bed – or somewhere entirely else – solely depending on where the burning desire overcomes you both.

And that desire is the main reason he’s put a child in you just shy of three moons after your bedding ceremony.

Wild and exciting are terms you’d use to describe you both indulging in the pleasures of flesh. He’s just a little too rough, and always borderlining between being unbelievably good and almost too much – that was, until he has learned you are carrying his babe.

Where he has taken you like a common whore before, he now takes his time with you; one of his large hands splayed on your growing stomach while he insists on taking you in no other position than on your back with him between your parted legs.

Sometimes you manage to sweet-talk him into allowing you to sit astride him, coaxing him to give in with the sweetest praises and offers falling past your lips in the tongue of your ancestors, but even then, his hands always rest on your hips for him to guide your movements and set the pace.

And this night is no different.

You’ve just recently crossed the six moon mark, and your bump and breasts swelled generously already. If you didn’t know better, you’d say it’s ridiculous how much your body has changed over the time, considering you still have four moons to go. Comparing your bodies to the ones of other pregnant women at court, kind of around the same stage of pregnancy as you, you’ve quickly noticed that your body looked different. However, they aren’t carrying the offspring of a true Targaryen, and their bodies don’t need to provide enough milk for the little life growing inside of them, because they aren’t carrying a dragon.

Lying on your back with Daemon’s silver mop of hair between your parted legs, you have your head tipped back, eyes glued to the ceiling. He has been lazily licking at your folds for too long at this point, not noticing that you aren’t finding much joy in it anymore given the lack of variation.

As you look down at him, you see that his lilac eyes are fixed on you – just not at your face. And when you tilt your head down to follow his trail of sight, you quickly learn the reason why. Where your breasts just have felt hard and heavy to the touch before, they now look like it as well, entirely ready for him.

A few droplets of milk oozed out of your darkened buds, running down the curves of your breasts. It has happened plenty of times before but only very rarely with direct touch, and never in his presence.

There’s admiration in his gaze, tinged with something more carnal, primal – hunger. It’s enough to send a shiver down your spine, and coaxes a renewed wave of your arousal to ooze out of your core.

Your hand entangles in his silver strands, and while that touch seems to be enough to pull him out of his trance, you give him no time to react as you tug him up by his hair to tower over you.

He doesn’t speak, unusual for someone who always has something to say, and his questioning gaze is enough to have you chuckling softly. Cupping his cheeks, you pull him in for a kiss. “I should have warned you, husband, my apologies. I started leaking very recently,” you whisper against his lips.

Just like the many times before, you wrap your legs around his waist. You have easily flipped him onto his back like this plenty of times before, but never with your bump and breasts so swollen, which makes you rely on some of his help. Utterly mesmerized by the sight, there comes no objection from your husband, and soon enough you straddle his hips, sitting astride him with his hard cock captured between your soaked cunt and his lower stomach.

It takes a few grinds of your hips to fully coat his cock in your arousal, sliding back and forth with ease. His raspy groans are almost drowned out by the moans you release each time the tip of his cock rubs against your sensitive pearl.

Your husband knows his job as you lift your hips, bringing one hand to your arse to support your weight while the other grips the base of his cock to align him with your needy cunt, inviting you to sink down on him.

The delicious stretch is enough for you both to finally moan in unison. One of your primal instincts is to cup your swollen belly at the sensation, fingers splayed out to support the burgeoning bump. Not wasting a moment, your husband’s large hand joins yours, resting atop of it and covering it in its entirety.

You always marvel at it when you’re on top of him, but Daemon truly looks as though he has been created by The Seven, and, most importantly, just for you. His usually neat, silver hair is disheveled and splayed out around his face, his scars, the testament of the many wars he’s fought, on full display, and his muscles twitch each time your core clenches around him.

And yet it’s crystal clear that the lilac eyes of the dragon between your legs still don’t know where to settle. His dark-blown gaze flickers from your face down to where you both are connected and eventually focuses on your bouncing breasts, but it doesn’t stay there for too long, always finding another, even more interesting part of your body until it eventually comes back to your breasts again.

And even your body seems to notice your husband’s unabashed interest in them, because they suddenly feel heavier than before – too firm and too full, and practically begging for his attention. With full anticipation, Daemon awaits for you to move so he can enjoy the show he was going to receive, however, you’ve overestimated your stamina.

“You should have listened to me,” Daemon says smugly, although his voice is caught by a particularly tight clench of your walls. He bends forward, his strong arms wrapped around your middle and pulling you closer. As your perky buds press against his chest you can’t help but whimper, too sensitive to press so tightly against his body. The close contact forces some more milk to leak out of your breasts, wetting both your chests. “Let me–”

“No,” you protest, shaking your head to make a point.

You slowly rock your hips back and forth, your movements faltering every now and then in response to his closeness and tight grip. His muscles flex, indicating that it feels good for him but that he just doesn’t like the position and your clear discomfort that comes with it.

“Must you always be so stubborn?” The annoyance in his voice is audible, and his patience is clearly running thin.

As Daemon’s head tilts upwards, yours bows forwards, both your foreheads resting against each other with your hips coming to a stop. Indecent thoughts have never before been the bloom of your embarrassment, but it seems that it comes with the pregnancy and your changing body.

It’s him tightly squeezing your arse that catches your attention again, your writhing body pressing against his. “What is it?” he asks sternly

There’s no escaping him, you’re certain. And with him looking at you like a predator looking at its prey, you know it’s just a matter of moments until he’ll force an answer out of you. But where your voice fails you, you figure it’s easier to show what’s on your mind, how you need him.

Tilting your upper body back slightly, you wipe at the dark skin of your bud, his eyes eagerly following your fingers. The whiny sounds that leave your lips at the soft stimulation are enough to snap the last lingering threads of Daemon’s resolve, a growl-like sound rumbling in his chest.

A few more droplets trickle down your skin at the contact, and when you reach to wipe your fingers clean on the covers, Daemon is quick to seize your wrist and bring it up to his mouth instead.

He leans forward, nuzzling at your fingers to take in the scent of you, before both digits are engulfed by his lips. It’s something you’ve thought of since the first time you have wetted one of your gowns, yet seeing it with your own eyes is something entirely different that makes you gasp.

It’s not the first time he sucks on your fingers, but this time it’s different. The burning that settles between your legs causes you to squeeze your thighs around his hips, and you’re sharply reminded of him still being inside of you when he bucks his hips up in return.

But that’s not where he stops.

His large palm comes up to cup the swell of your breast, the pad of his thumb brushing your hardened bud before he applies a bit of pressure to coax more milk out of it. Whimpering again at the contact, the sound quickly turns into a moan the moment his tongue swirls over your little bud, cleaning away the slip of fluid that has escaped.

If your husband wasn’t so familiar with your body, seeing how it approved of his actions and all but melted against his touch, he would have considered stopping.

His mouth latches around your bud, slowly starting to suck, and you can’t help yourself but to arch your back, shoving your breasts further into his face and mouth. Your arms wrap around his neck, bending at the elbow to entangle into the hair on the crown of his head, combing your fingers through it. He is all but forced to your breasts now, and you’d fear that he’s close to suffocating, if it wasn’t for you knowing all too well that he’d gladly die this way – with his lips on your tits, suckling on what is solely designated for the babe he has put in your belly.

Each suck of his mouth has your cunt clenching around his throbbing cock, slowly but surely coaxing you to rut your hips back and forth with newfound vigor.

Droplets of milk rest in the corners of his mouth as he pulls back to release a heedy groan. The lack of stimulation causes you to whine, a frown etching onto your features, but as soon as you catch a glimpse of the sight beneath you, you feel a fresh wave of arousal drip out of your cunt, coating his cock and thighs. His lips are swollen, a sight you merely know from your exuberant hours of kissing, and his chiseled features are framed by your full breasts on either side of it.

“Keep going, husband,” you whimper, “do not stop.”

Applying a bit of pressure to his head with your elbows, you nudge him forward to encourage him to continue his ministrations to which he eagerly complies. Banding his arms around your middle, he brings you closer to him again.

You can’t stop yourself from whining words of praise at the relief you feel when he resumes, this time taking rather large gulps of milk like a greedy babe, the sounds of his messy slurping filling your ears. Knowing you are providing for your unborn babe is good, but it doesn’t compare to the feeling of your husband emptying your full breasts.

With every suckle of his lips, you take in a sharp breath, and when his hand comes up to squeeze the slowly sagging flesh of your breast, the pressure in it long gone with the amount of milk he has drunk, you gently rock your way through your peak.

“Gods, yes–,” you cry out, your sentence cut off by a moan. “Just like that… please.” You aren’t even sure what you are begging for, since he has already given you all you could’ve ever asked for, but the relief and pleasure his mouth and cock grant you rob you of the ability to form any coherent thoughts, your mind hazy with lust.

You are sopping wet, labored breath drowning out the squelching sounds of your core repeatedly dragging over his thick cock to calm the storm that rages within you. You aren’t able to see it, but you feel that he is coated in more than one of your juices. Milk dribbles down the corners of his mouth and chin, whereas his stones, his cock and his thighs are coated in your arousal.

He’s still snugly nestled inside of your warm and wet womanhood, and besides the throbbing and pulsing, it doesn’t move much, he doesn’t move much, solely indulging in your efforts. It’s a welcomed surprise to not have his hips pistoning in and out of you, making it much more bearable to keep him inside of you even after the effects of your peak subside.

The previous firmness of your breast is long gone, and only once the spasming of your core around him stops, Daemon dares to pull away from you. “You taste divine, my love.”

“Then keep going,” you whimper the demand, strands of your hair clinging to your sweaty skin.

You are less vocal as he focuses on your other breast, and just enjoy the sensations that course through you, paying attention to what elicits which response from your body. His cock is still buried hard and wanting inside of you, and you settle into a slow and steady rhythm with his mouth now working your other breast.

But not only you are deeply affected by this. It’s so strange, so illicit, that even your husband slowly but surely feels the familiar tingling at the tip of his cock, despite you not moving much, sending a shudder through his core.

As he applies just the edge of his teeth to the sensitive skin of your little bud, a second peak washes over your body in an ambush, and you chase your pleasure in a haze, oblivious to Daemon being close to completion as well.

Keening and shaking against him with the force of your peak, Daemon’s body eventually seizes, his cock spilling his seed deep inside of you, a strained groan of him fanning over your wet skin. If you wouldn’t be growing round with his child already, you surely would’ve been with one after this, his seed filling you up to the brim and slowly leaking out of your spasming hole.

With you being tight and warm around him, it proves to be a challenge to get Daemon to release the sensitive bud, too keen to drink every last drop of your milk while you grow somewhat sore and uncomfortable at this point.

But when he finally does, he looks up at you with lust-blown eyes, the familiar lilac replaced by black. You lick your lips, eyes flickering between his and his lips, swollen and covered in the last remnants of your milk, begging for your attention.

Your head bows down, capturing his lips in a soft kiss, and as the taste of your milk on his tongue spreads over yours, you can’t stop a moan from spilling into his mouth. His arms wrap around your body yet again, pulling you closer against him. And this time, it doesn’t feel painful when your breasts are squeezed by his firm chest, causing you to sigh in content.

“Avy jorrāelan.” I love you.

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dark-moonlust · 3 months

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Lust Beneath the Waves PART 2

Pairing: Kraken x f!mermaid reader

Summary: the ocean knows you are the Kraken’s mate and carrying his offspring. Your mate is soft and caring, taking care of your needs especially now that you are pregnant. He always shows you off and keeps you well-fucked and happy.

Warnings: minors don't interact, 18+!!!!, monster smut, explicit tentacle smut, egg preg, exhibitionism, Kraken has two🍆 🍆, triple penetration, cockwarming. Don’t like, don’t read.

Read PART 3 here.

The ocean knew your secret.

You’d mated with the Kraken.

It was a secret you wore with pride.

Whispers carried the news through the currents, and every creature beneath the waves knew of the bond you now shared with the most fearsome monster of the seas. You were no longer just a mermaid; you were the Kraken’s mate and you carried his offspring. Your belly was swollen with his eggs, a constant reminder that your mate, for all his fearsome reputation, was tender and devoted only to you.

When you first met the Kraken, you were reluctant and scared. But that was no more. You embraced your mating bond with pride and contentment. You were his soulmate, the most precious thing in his life. You lived with him in the depths of the ocean, in a lavish cave that was yours to do as you pleased.

The Kraken gave you everything: his love, his tenderness, his cocks and tentacles.

He kept you close, always, his wiggling tentacles cradling your pregnant belly while his double cocks stayed permanently buried deep within you, one in your pussy and the other in your ass. He kept you filled at all times, he was fiercely possessive and wanted to constantly show off your union.

You rarely used your tail anymore; the Kraken’s magic had transformed it into legs, and because he fucked your holes at all times, you didn’t mind not using it. After all, you were so big and heavily pregnant that it was hard to swim and move around. You relied on your mate to help you and enjoyed the sensation of being carried by him.

The Kraken’s magic coursed through your veins, ensuring that your body adapted to his needs and to his eggs. He’d laid his eggs inside you from both your pussy and ass. You’d expected the sensations to be overwhelming, but thanks to his magic your body accommodated them without any harm or discomfort. There was only a mild sensation of fullness rather than pain.

Deep within your pussy, five eggs were nestled against your cervix, each one smooth, rounded and about the size of a human fist. In your ass, the other five eggs were similarly aligned and pressed against the walls of your rectum in a magical chamber that sacked them together. You would carry them for twelve months so you had a long way to go.

Carrying Kraken eggs made you impossibly aroused and in need of your mate. You craved his presence and his cocks or tentacles inside you. His seed was nutritious for the eggs so you were always filled in both pussy and ass, no matter where you were or who was around. Each movement of his cocks caused the eggs to shift slightly, sending waves of pleasure through you and keeping you in a state of heightened arousal.

The Kraken showed you off to the other ocean creatures, his beautiful mate, swollen with his spawn and constantly pleasured by his cocks. It was a display of his love and respect for you and everyone was eager to take a peek at the Kraken’s claiming.

And you didn’t mind. You trusted him completely, loved him deeply.

It was yet another day, and you were the star of another show as your mate fucked you for all to see.

The ocean was bustling with activity, all kinds of creatures witnessing the Kraken’s claiming.

Lying back against your mate, your thighs were splayed open for all to see, supported by his tentacles. The Kraken’s appendages cradled your swollen belly, his suckers lewdly slurping your sensitive nipples. Your pussy and ass were shamelessly exposed as his cocks took turns filling up your holes. They thrust rhythmically and occasionally changed holes, making you moan and writhe.

“I know you can take more, little mate,” your mate’s husky voice spoke in your mind. “Open wide.”

“Hmp…” you opened your mouth and accepted a slimy tentacle in your throat. It fucked you slowly, leaking nutrient juices in your belly.

“That’s it,” he drawled, his eyes going with predatory hunger. “Swallow it. There you go, such a good mate."

Working your throat, you licked the slimy tentacle fucking your throat. You felt the warmth liquid drip into your stomach while his cocks continued their steady pounding, your body trembling with pleasure until you shattered and came with muffled cries. Your holes clenched around his dicks and he kept fucking you through bliss, adjusting you in front of the audience so you were kneeling on the seabed. With an audible squelch, the cocks left your drenched holes, Kraken cum leaking out of your pussy and ass, dancing in the water.

Keeping you securely in place, he spread your pussy open with two tentacles.

You heard gasps and whispers from the crowd, felt their gazes, their envy and arousal, and they only fueled your love for your mate.

“Look at my beautiful mate,” the Kraken said proudly. “My mate. Mine! The most exquisite creature in the sea. Look how sweet her pussy is, how pretty and tight.”

He thrust a slimy tentacle in your plump cunt, wiggling it deep, so deep that it nudged against the eggs nestled within you. Another one followed, stretching your walls and pulsing up inside you. You moaned, fisted the sand in your palms as the tentacles fucked you deeply while the slime in your mouth thrust up and down, its slimy texture coating your lips and throat.

“M-mhh-mate… mphhh…” you managed to say once the tentacle finally slipped out of your mouth.

“What is it, sweet one?”

“Nnaaahh… need it fast and hard,” you whined, and pushed back against the tentacles in your pussy. “P-please.”

“All in good time, mate. I’m showing everyone how perfect you are. I showed off your pretty pussy and now I need to show off your pouting little asshole before I fuck it.”

Whining submissively, you stayed put as he angled your hips to give the audience a perfect view of his domination. His tentacles fondled your swollen belly, the proof of your union as his appendages opened the mounds of your ass, exposing your pouting rosebud to every onlooker. The tips of a thick tentacle prodded and stretched the rim before slipping deep inside your ass. Another one joined in, bottoming out inside you.

“Look at my sweet mate.” The Kraken looked at the abyss’s creatures, his deep, resonant voice echoing through their minds. “While you all scorn and fear me, my beautiful mermaid has accepted me and worships me with her body. She accepts me so completely, her ass stretching and accepting me deep.”

You whined and panted and he brought his cocks over your face. You obediently licked them up, your hands pumping the massive girths. The tentacles delved repeatedly in your pussy and ass, pouring juices all over the eggs nestled inside you. His cocks now rubbed against your breasts, leaking against your sensitive nipples. You made a cradle with your plump tits and pumped his cocks up and down while licking and suckling the heads.

The sensations were overwhelming, especially when another tentacle started flicking your clit. White-hot pleasure blinded you and you trembled in another orgasm, your walls clenching around the tentacles pounding your depths. The Kraken followed, cumming with a defeating roar and thrusting both cockheads in your mouth so you could swallow every drop of his seed.

“Glrkh—mnhhh!” you sucked and sucked, breathing steadily despite the tentacles fucking your holes.

“Yes, such a lovely mouth. Suck me dry,” he drawled, slimes caressing your face.

“Nnnaaahh… Kraken,” you panted softly as you gave kitten licks to the head of each cock. He had just released but he was hard as ever. He always was. “Such a good mate for me. So hard and ready.”

“Always for you, little one. Are you feeling alright?” he asked, moving you so your were straddling his huge body, his tentacles cradling your thighs and waist against him.

“Hmm…’m alright…” you clutched him, oversensitive at the tentacles filling you so completely. Every thrust made you see stars.

“You love this, don’t you?” he teased, his voice a seductive whisper. “You love being fucked by your mate and shown off to everyone.”

“Yes,” you whimpered, breathless with pleasure. “I love it. I love being fucked by my Kraken.”

“Love you, too, my little mermaid.” His tentacles slid out of you with an obscene squelch and you whimpered at the emptiness.

“Nooooo….”

“I’m here, little mate, I’m here,” he said comfortingly as he repositioned his cocks and surged inside you to the brim.

You moaned loudly; his shafts pulsed inside you, invading you so completely and rubbing against each other.

“So beautiful,” he gazed at you, his tone softer but no less possessive.

“Shall we go home now, my Kraken? W…want you to fuck me to sleep.”

“As you wish, my sweet one.”

Wrapping his larger tentacles around you, he pulled you closer and began to swim, his powerful body and tentacles cutting through the water. His cocks throbbed within you, the thick lengths filling you completely as he moved in slow, torturous thrusts. He carried you through the dark waters, the journey home a blur of orgasms and moans.

The Kraken guided you into your cave and laid you down on a soft bed of seaweed and leaves. His tentacles cradled your belly while his cocks fucked you in gentle strokes. You moaned softly against him, exhaustion mingling with pleasure. You relaxed into the embrace of his tentacles and reveled in his warmth and security.

“Rest now, my little mate,” he whispered. “I will keep you safe.”

You gazed up at him, your eyes heavy. “Hmmm… love you,” you murmured. With his cocks still buried deep within you, he rocked you gently, lulling you into sleep.

“And I love you,” he replied, watching over you.

I worked really hard for this. I hope you liked it! Please reblog with your thoughts and comment what you want to see next. 🖤 Follow for more and turn on notifications for when I update.

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novaursa · 1 month

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The Flames We Share

- Summary: You tell your son the truth. He has more than the blood of dragons in his veins.

- Paring: Gwayne Hightower/targ!reader/Daemon Targaryen

- Note: reader is referred to as Y/N, is Rhaenyra's younger sister and was bonded with Silverwing. These events happen right after The Blood We Choose. If you want to read all parts before this one in chronological order, visit my blog. The list is pinned to the top.

- Rating: Mild 13+

- Word count: 5 198

- Tag(s): @deniixlovezelda @duck-duck-goose2 @aadu2173 @sachaa-ff

The dungeons beneath Dragonstone were a cold, damp place, lit only by flickering torches that cast shadows that seemed to dance mockingly on the rough-hewn walls. The stench of rot and mildew clung to the air, seeping into the very stones of the fortress. Gwayne Hightower sat chained to the wall, bruised and dirty from his days of captivity, but his eyes were clear and resolute, fixed forward as he awaited what was surely his fate. His thoughts, however, were elsewhere—focused only on you, the woman he had risked everything for.

The sound of heavy boots echoed through the stone corridors, and he looked up as the iron door creaked open. Daemon Targaryen stepped inside, a predator’s smirk twisting his lips. He tossed a crumpled message onto the filthy floor in front of Gwayne’s feet. The black wax seal was unmistakable—bearing the sigil of House Hightower.

“Your father sends his regards,” Daemon drawled, a cruel edge in his voice. “He offers to trade his traitorous son for some stronghold I care little about. Imagine that—a worthless fortress in exchange for his even more worthless offspring.” Daemon’s eyes gleamed as he studied Gwayne’s reaction, searching for any sign of weakness.

But Gwayne’s expression remained stony. “You can say what you wish, Targaryen. My fate was sealed the moment I brought her to you.” His voice was hoarse but steady. “As long as Y/N is safe, I care not what becomes of me.”

Daemon’s lip curled in disdain. “Is that so?” He took a step closer, as if to loom over Gwayne. “Safe? You think she’s safe, having fallen from the sky, bleeding and broken? You think I would allow the woman who bore my son—my heir—to suffer any harm under my roof?” There was a dark gleam of possessiveness in Daemon’s eyes, as if the very notion of another man daring to care for you was an affront to his pride.

Gwayne’s gaze sharpened at that. “I want to see Vaeron,” he demanded suddenly. There was a tremor in his voice, a desperation that Daemon did not miss. “I want to speak with my son.”

Daemon’s anger flared at the insolence of the request. “Your son?” he hissed, voice low and dangerous. “That boy is a Targaryen—a dragon, not the product of some dishonorable tryst! Do you think I would allow him to be tainted by the shame of what you nearly brought upon my niece, siring a child on her without even the dignity of wedlock?”

Gwayne’s eyes darkened, yet there was a hint of mocking amusement in them as he stared up at the Rogue Prince. “And you believe yourself to be the righteous one? The man who slew his first wife in pursuit of power? Who consorts with whores while claiming the love of dragons? Tell me, Daemon, what makes you any different from me?”

Daemon’s smirk faltered, his face tightening with barely controlled rage. But Gwayne continued, his voice laced with bitterness. “She was denied to me—Y/N, I mean. If your brother had seen sense, had given her to me rather than feeding your ambitions, we could have avoided all this bloodshed. The boy would have been raised in Oldtown, under the guidance of both our Houses, and this war might never have happened.”

“Nothing could have prevented this war,” Daemon snarled, eyes flashing. “It was written in fire and blood long before you or I even took breath. But do not delude yourself into thinking you have anything resembling love, Hightower. What you claim as love is mere possession—an attempt to bind what you could never truly have.”

Gwayne’s jaw clenched at the words, but he did not respond. The two men stared at each other, the tension between them crackling like a drawn sword. Daemon took a breath, his composure returning as he straightened.

“I’ll have the boy brought to you,” Daemon said at last, his tone laced with scorn. “You may look upon him and see the life you were never destined to have. But do not forget—he is mine, and Y/N belongs to me now. She is a Targaryen, and you are nothing more than a failed traitor.”

With that, Daemon turned and strode toward the door. Before he left, he paused, throwing one last taunt over his shoulder. “Do not hope for mercy when your father trades you away like the pawn you are, Gwayne. Your life is worth little, even to those who should care most.”

The door slammed shut, leaving Gwayne alone in the darkness once more. But he did not feel defeated. Even with the chains biting into his wrists, he had no regrets for what he had done, for saving you and ensuring you were delivered safely to Dragonstone. In the end, it was not his fate that mattered—it was yours. Even in the heart of this cold, bitter place, the thought of you kept the warmth alive in his heart.

Because in the quiet shadows, despite all the titles and power Daemon clung to, Gwayne knew one truth that Daemon would never fully grasp—he loved you, wholly and without condition. And in his mind, that was a victory far greater than any throne or dragon could ever grant.

The soft crackle of the hearthfire filled the chamber, mingling with the scent of herbs and ointments from where Maesters had tended to your wounds. You sat by the window, Silverwing’s scales still etched into your memory, the pain a constant reminder of the battle you had narrowly survived. The healing was slow, but the bruises and cuts were nothing compared to the deeper ache in your chest. You weren’t sure what stung more—the death of your dragon or the desperate, foolish bravery of the man who had risked everything to save you.

A knock at the door broke your thoughts. “Come in,” you called, and the door creaked open to reveal Vaeron. The boy’s silver hair glinted in the evening light, and his blue eyes—so much like his father’s—fixed on you with concern.

“Mother,” he said quietly, stepping inside. “How are you feeling today?”

You smiled softly at him, though your heart ached as you looked upon him. “I am mending, sweetling. Stronger with each day.”

Vaeron nodded, yet his expression was troubled. He came closer, sitting on the edge of your bed, the worry in his eyes clear. “I heard… I heard Daemon talking about him,” he murmured. “The man in the dungeons—the one who saved you. Is it true he defied Ser Criston Cole and fled with you from Rook’s Rest? They say he’s a Hightower. An enemy.”

You took a deep breath, steeling yourself. The boy was no longer the child you had once cradled; he was growing, his curiosity sharp and his mind keen. He deserved the truth.

“Yes, it’s true,” you replied, voice gentle. “The man who saved me is Gwayne Hightower. He… he betrayed his own kin, risked his life, and rode through the chaos to bring me here, to safety.”

Vaeron’s brow furrowed in confusion. “But why would he do that? Daemon says he’s just trying to make amends for his family’s treachery. That he’s nothing more than a desperate fool.”

You shook your head slowly. “It’s more complicated than that, my dear. Gwayne… he did it out of love, out of loyalty to someone who meant the world to him once.” You hesitated, the words heavy on your tongue. The truth was a blade you’d kept sheathed for too long, and it was time to draw it, no matter how much it might wound.

Vaeron looked at you expectantly, sensing the weight of what you were about to say. You reached out, taking his hand in yours, needing the touch to anchor yourself.

“Vaeron… the man in the dungeons, Gwayne Hightower… he is your father.”

The silence that followed was thick and suffocating. Vaeron’s eyes widened, the shock raw and unfiltered in his young face. He pulled his hand away, as if trying to distance himself from the revelation. “What?” he breathed out, voice barely above a whisper. “My father? But… Daemon… I always thought…”

You nodded, pain lancing through your heart as you watched him grapple with the truth. “Daemon has raised you as his own, and in many ways, he is your father. But you have another father, by blood, and that is Gwayne Hightower. You were conceived out of a moment we both knew would never be more than a fleeting dream. He wanted to marry me, to build a life, but—”

Vaeron shook his head, backing away as he struggled to process it all. “No,” he muttered, as if denying the words could somehow make them untrue. “Daemon’s always told me I’m a Targaryen, that my blood is pure, that I am his son, a prince of the realm. How could—why didn’t you tell me? Why now, when he’s chained beneath us like some criminal?”

Tears welled in your eyes, but you blinked them back. “I didn’t want you to bear the burden of that knowledge before you were ready. You were always meant to be strong, to carry the legacy of the dragons. But Gwayne… he isn’t just a Hightower, he’s the man who saved my life when no one else dared. Whatever his blood, he does care for you in his own way, even from afar now.”

Vaeron’s lips trembled as he stared at you, his confusion and hurt palpable. “I need… I need to think,” he stammered, turning abruptly and nearly stumbling over himself in his haste to leave the room.

“Vaeron, wait—” you called after him, but he was already gone, the door slamming shut behind him. The sound echoed in the emptiness of the chamber, leaving you alone with your thoughts.

Your chest tightened with regret. You had known this moment would come eventually, but you had hoped it would be under different circumstances. There was so much more you wanted to tell him, so much more to explain. But for now, all you could do was hope that he would find a way to understand, to see beyond the conflict of bloodlines and names.

In that fleeting moment before he vanished, you had seen the storm raging behind his eyes—a storm you knew would not settle easily. And in that storm, you glimpsed the boy he had always been and the man he was becoming, torn between the truths that defined him.

But you could only wait, knowing that the choice between dragons and towers was his to make, even if it broke your heart in the process.

Vaeron’s footsteps echoed through the winding corridors of Dragonstone as he fought to steady his breath. His heart pounded in his chest, each beat a heavy drum drowning out the world around him. The truth his mother had just revealed rang in his ears like a cruel jest—Gwayne Hightower is your father. The words were a blade lodged deep in his chest, twisting with every thought, every doubt that now swirled within him.

He turned a corner, the air cool against his flushed face, and found himself in the dimly lit dining hall. The large table at its center was set for the evening meal, though the room was mostly empty save for one figure seated at the end, absently twirling a goblet in his hand.

Jacaerys Velaryon looked up, catching sight of Vaeron. His dark curls fell loosely over his forehead, and his brown eyes narrowed in concern as he took in his cousin’s strained expression. “Vaeron?” he called out, his voice low but filled with the warmth of kinship. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost. What’s wrong?”

Vaeron stiffened, his gaze flickering away as he hesitated at the threshold of the hall. The weight of the revelation clung to him like a shroud, and for a moment, he wondered if it would be easier to bury it, to pretend that nothing had changed. But Jacaerys’ patient eyes, filled with genuine care, drew him in like a tether.

With a resigned sigh, Vaeron walked over and slumped into the chair opposite Jace, the firelight casting shadows on his troubled face. He didn’t speak for a moment, merely stared at the table as he tried to gather the words that had lodged like stones in his throat.

Jace leaned forward, the lines of worry deepening on his brow. “Vaeron, you’re scaring me. What’s happened?”

“I…” Vaeron’s voice cracked, and he swallowed hard before continuing, “I just learned something that changes everything.” He finally looked up, his eyes rimmed with uncertainty. “The man in the dungeons—the Hightower who brought Mother back from Rook’s Rest… He’s my father. My real father.”

Jacaerys’ eyes widened in shock, his goblet nearly slipping from his grasp. “What? But—Daemon’s always—”

“I know,” Vaeron cut in, voice strained. “I thought Daemon was my father, too. I grew up believing I was his son, a true Targaryen. But Mother told me just now that Gwayne Hightower is my sire. I’m… I’m a bastard.”

The word hung heavy in the air between them, laden with shame and confusion. Vaeron felt his chest tighten again, the sting of doubt gnawing at him. What did that make him now? Was he even truly a part of this family? A dragon in name only, born of a union that should never have been?

Jacaerys’ expression softened as he saw the pain in Vaeron’s eyes. He set down his goblet and leaned closer, trying to find the right words. “Listen to me, Vaeron,” he began, voice steady and laced with a touch of empathy. “We’ve both been raised with more lies and expectations than most people could handle. But if anyone understands how it feels to question who you are, it’s me.”

Vaeron blinked, confused. “What do you mean?”

Jacaerys gave a rueful smile, leaning back in his chair as he stared into the flames. “I’ve heard the whispers, the taunts—people saying I’m no true Targaryen because of my questionable blood. They mock the fact that I don’t have silver hair or violet eyes, that I look more like a commoner than a prince. And sometimes… sometimes, I wonder if they’re right.”

The honesty in Jace’s voice caught Vaeron off guard, pulling him out of his own turmoil. He had always admired Jacaerys—his confidence, his sense of duty. He had never imagined that his cousin carried doubts of his own.

“But you’re still recognized as one of us,” Vaeron murmured, brow furrowed. “You’re still heir to the Iron Throne, still a dragon. No one would ever dare deny that.”

Jace nodded, but his gaze remained distant. “True, but that doesn’t erase the whispers. Even with the dragon blood flowing through my veins, I’ve always felt like I had to prove I’m worthy of the name Targaryen. But you…” He looked back at Vaeron, a small smile tugging at his lips. “You look like a Targaryen. No one would ever question your blood—silver hair—you were born a dragon, even if your father wasn’t one.”

Vaeron’s breath hitched at the kindness in Jace’s words. But it didn’t soothe the ache gnawing at his heart. “Does it even matter, Jace? If I’m truly a bastard, what does any of this mean? My whole life, I’ve been told I’m meant for something great, but now… now I don’t even know who I really am.”

Jacaerys’ expression grew firm, his voice taking on a rare edge of command. “It means you choose who you are, Vaeron. Blood alone doesn’t decide it. You were raised in this family, loved by your mother and Daemon alike. That is what makes you one of us. Not some Hightower who’s rotting in a cell.”

Vaeron’s throat tightened at the thought of Gwayne, the man who had defied his own House, who had thrown everything away to save the woman he loved. Did that make him worthy of being called a father? Could that kind of loyalty outweigh his bloodline, or was it too little too late?

“I need time to think,” Vaeron murmured, running a hand through his hair. “It’s just… a lot.”

Jacaerys reached across the table, placing a reassuring hand on Vaeron’s shoulder. “You’ll figure it out, cousin. You’re not alone in this, alright? Whatever you decide, you’ll always have me and the rest of your family behind you.”

Vaeron nodded numbly, grateful for Jace’s support but still lost in the sea of confusion and emotions swirling within him. The questions gnawed at him relentlessly, leaving him torn between the man he had always believed himself to be and the truth that now threatened to shatter that identity.

The tension clung to the air in the dining hall like smoke, heavy and suffocating. Vaeron sat in silence after Jacaerys left, lost in the maze of his thoughts, unable to untangle the twisted knots of his emotions. His whole life had been built on one truth: that he was a Targaryen, son of Daemon, a prince destined for greatness. But now that truth had shattered, and he felt like a child cast adrift on a stormy sea, unsure of where to turn.

The sound of footsteps approached, measured and deliberate, and Vaeron looked up to see Daemon entering the hall. His expression was unreadable, though his sharp eyes missed nothing as they swept over Vaeron’s troubled face. For a moment, the prince said nothing, merely studying his son—his real son in all but blood—with a calculating gaze.

“You’re brooding,” Daemon finally said, his voice low and tinged with an edge of dry amusement. “A trait you didn’t inherit from your mother, I’d wager.”

Vaeron clenched his fists on the table, unable to meet Daemon’s eyes. “Everything I’ve ever known about myself is a lie,” he muttered, his voice thick with anger and confusion. “How am I supposed to believe anything now?”

Daemon’s gaze softened, but his voice remained firm. “You think this changes who you are?” he asked, stepping closer. “You think some whispered secret about your parentage wipes away the blood that runs through your veins? You are still a Targaryen, still my son in every way that matters.”

Vaeron’s eyes snapped up, a flash of frustration crossing his face. “But I’m not,” he insisted, his voice cracking. “I’m not truly your son, not by blood. I’m just… a bastard. A mistake.”

Daemon’s expression darkened, and he took a seat across from Vaeron, his presence commanding and unyielding. “Is that what you truly believe?” he asked, his tone both gentle and sharp. “That blood alone defines who you are? You were raised in the shadow of dragons, with the legacy of kings and conquerors shaping your every step. That is no lie. I’ve taught you, guided you, prepared you for the world because I chose you as my heir, not because of whose seed sired you.”

Vaeron looked away, struggling with the conflicting emotions swirling within him. “But… why didn’t you tell me?” he asked, his voice a whisper now, tinged with the pain of betrayal. “All this time, you let me believe…”

Daemon sighed, his gaze growing distant as if recalling a memory long buried. “Because you needed to grow up without that burden,” he said quietly. “What good would it have done to burden you with a truth that might have only confused you, made you question everything? You were born a Targaryen in all the ways that matter. I’ve treated you as such, and so has your mother. That will never change, no matter who your true father is.”

Vaeron’s chest tightened at the mention of his mother, and he shook his head. “But now I know, and I can’t just pretend it doesn’t matter. That man in the dungeons… he’s the reason I exist, and yet he’s a stranger to me. How can I make sense of that?”

Daemon leaned back in his chair, his fingers drumming lightly on the wood. “Gwayne Hightower might be your blood father, but that doesn’t mean he has any claim over you,” he said with a hint of disdain in his voice. “He made a choice back at Rook’s Rest—one that I don’t entirely understand myself. He risked everything to bring your mother back here. Perhaps he thought it would redeem him somehow, or maybe he truly cared for her in his own way. Either way, he’s asked to speak with you.”

Vaeron stiffened at the words, his heart lurching in his chest. “He wants to see me?”

Daemon nodded slowly. “He does. He requested it, though he knows the choice is yours to make. I told him I’d send you, but the decision is yours. You can go to him, or you can ignore it and leave him to rot where he belongs.”

Vaeron’s mind reeled, torn between the curiosity gnawing at him and the fear of facing the man who had upended his world with his very existence. He shook his head, his voice trembling as he spoke. “I can’t. Not today. I don’t even know what I’d say to him… what I’d ask.”

Daemon studied him for a moment before nodding in understanding. “That’s your right. You don’t have to face him until you’re ready—if you ever are.” He reached out, placing a hand on Vaeron’s shoulder, his grip firm and reassuring. “But know this, boy: whoever sired you, you are still my son. You bear the Targaryen name because I have claimed you as my own, because you were raised with fire in your blood. No man, be he Hightower or otherwise, can take that from you.”

Vaeron looked up at him, searching Daemon’s face for some trace of deception, but all he saw was the fierce loyalty and pride that Daemon had always shown him. For all his faults and ruthlessness, Daemon had been the only father Vaeron had ever known. And in that moment, the boy clung to that truth like a lifeline.

“Thank you,” Vaeron murmured, his voice small but filled with genuine gratitude. “I just… need time. To sort through it all.”

Daemon’s lips curved into a rare, almost affectionate smile, one reserved for the few he held dear. “Take all the time you need,” he said quietly. “But remember, you are a Targaryen, and no truth will ever change that. Not in the eyes of those who matter.”

With that, Daemon rose from the table, giving Vaeron a final nod before turning to leave the hall. Vaeron watched him go, the conflicting emotions still swirling in his chest, but there was a newfound clarity in his heart. The path ahead was clouded, and the shadow of Gwayne Hightower’s existence hanged over him like a specter. But for now, he knew where he stood—with the family that had shaped him, that had loved him despite the secrets and lies.

But deep down, in the quiet recesses of his mind, he knew that one day he would have to face the man who had saved his mother and who claimed the title of his father. Just… not today. Today, he would hold on to the identity he’d always known and trust that, in time, he would find his way through the tangled web of blood and loyalty.

For now, he was still Vaeron Targaryen, son of Daemon—trueborn or not, dragon or not, he was still a part of the legacy that burned brightly in the heart of House Targaryen. And that was enough to anchor him, at least for tonight.

The corridors beneath Dragonstone were dark and damp, the oppressive chill seeping into Vaeron’s bones as he made his way toward the dungeons. It had been a week since his world had been upended, a week of wrestling with the truth of his parentage. He had tried to push it aside, to focus on the training sessions with his cousins, the books his mother insisted he study, the words of comfort from Daemon. But every night, when the candles burned low and the castle quieted, the thought gnawed at him: if he didn’t face the man in the dungeons, he would never truly understand where he came from—or who he was.

So here he was, descending deeper into the belly of the fortress, the iron doors looming ahead. A guard nodded and stepped aside, allowing him entry. The door creaked open, revealing the shadowed cell where Gwayne Hightower sat slumped against the cold stone wall, chains rattling faintly with his every breath.

Gwayne’s face was bruised and gaunt, the days of imprisonment leaving their mark on him. But his eyes, so strikingly similar to Vaeron’s own, flicked up the moment the boy entered. Surprise and something softer—something like hope—flashed in his gaze.

“Vaeron,” he murmured, as if testing the name on his lips. “You came.”

Vaeron stood just inside the threshold, tension thrumming through his body. He wasn’t sure what he had expected—anger, indifference, desperation? But all he felt was a tangled mix of emotions that refused to settle.

After a long silence, Vaeron finally took a few steps closer, his voice tentative as he asked, “How could I not? I had to face you… or I couldn’t live with myself.”

Gwayne’s expression softened, a flicker of pride and sorrow crossing his face. “You’re braver than most would be in your position,” he said quietly. He shifted slightly, wincing at the pull of his wounds and restraints. “How… how is your mother? Is she recovering?”

Vaeron’s heart tightened at the genuine concern in Gwayne’s voice. Despite everything, despite the shame and anger swirling within him, he could not deny the sincerity of the man’s question. “She’s getting better,” Vaeron replied, a hint of guardedness still in his tone. “But her injuries are still bad. The fall from Silverwing was…” His voice trailed off, unable to find the right words.

Gwayne nodded, his jaw clenched as if in shared pain. “She’s strong. She always has been. I knew if I could just get her here, she’d fight her way back.” His voice grew hoarse with emotion, and he averted his gaze for a moment before looking back at Vaeron. “Thank you for telling me.”

For a moment, the only sound in the room was the faint drip of water echoing through the dungeons. Vaeron swallowed the lump in his throat and finally spoke the question that had been burning in him since he decided to come here. “Daemon says you’re a traitor,” he said, his voice low but unwavering. “That you can’t be trusted, that you’ve betrayed your family and your House. But… you saved my mother. You risked your life, your honor, everything.”

Gwayne’s expression didn’t change, but something deep and resolute flickered in his eyes. “Daemon’s right—I am a traitor to my own kin, to my House. I turned my back on everything I was raised to uphold. And I’d do it again in a heartbeat.”

The simple conviction in his words struck Vaeron like a blow. He could see the truth of it written in every line of Gwayne’s face, in the quiet determination that had driven him to this point. Vaeron wanted to challenge him, to demand answers, but instead, he found himself asking, “Why?”

Gwayne’s lips curled into a faint, sad smile. “Because she was worth it. Your mother was worth more than any loyalty to my House, more than any honor I might have clung to. You see, I loved her long before any of this war came to pass. I wanted to marry her, to build a life with her, but your uncle, King Viserys, had other plans. When she was given to Daemon, I knew my place would only ever be on the outside, looking in.” He paused, eyes darkening with the weight of old wounds. “But that didn’t change how I felt. When I saw her falling in battle, when I saw Silverwing plummet… I didn’t think about anything else. I just acted. I’d rather be a traitor and live knowing I saved her than be a loyal man and watch her die.”

Vaeron’s chest tightened, torn between resentment and reluctant understanding. “You say that like it was noble, like it justifies everything. But it’s still treason. You abandoned your family. You betrayed your own.”

Gwayne’s expression grew more serious, his voice a low rumble in the dim light. “Yes, and I will face the consequences of that. I know what I’ve done, and I’ve made my peace with it. But you must understand, Vaeron—whatever Daemon tells you, whatever anyone says—you are my son. I know I have no right to claim you, not after all these years, but it doesn’t change what you are to me.”

Vaeron felt the words hanging in the air like a challenge, daring him to acknowledge the bond that existed between them, even if he wished it didn’t. He looked down, his fists clenched at his sides. “I don’t know what I am,” he admitted, his voice strained. “I was raised to believe I’m a Targaryen, that I’m Daemon’s son. Now everything feels like a lie. How can I be both?”

Gwayne’s gaze softened, the hardness of his demeanor giving way to something almost tender. “You are both,” he said quietly. “You were raised as a Targaryen, with all the fire and pride that comes with it. That is a part of you. But you’re also my blood, whether you like it or not. And you get to decide what that means for you.”

Vaeron’s mind spun with conflicting emotions—anger, guilt, a flicker of something like pity. He wasn’t sure if he could ever see Gwayne as his father, not in the way Daemon had been. But he couldn’t deny that the man who sat before him had risked everything for his mother, for the chance to protect her even when all seemed lost. And for that alone, he couldn’t simply dismiss him.

After a long silence, Vaeron finally shook his head. “I can’t face you—not today. There’s too much I don’t understand, too much I still need to figure out.”

Gwayne nodded, accepting the decision without protest. “I won’t ask for more than you’re willing to give,” he said softly. “But know that I’m here, for as long as they allow me to draw breath. And whatever choice you make, whatever path you choose—I will always be proud of you.”

The words stung, leaving Vaeron with a raw ache in his chest. He wanted to respond, to say something more, but the weight of everything—his own confusion, the war, the fractured loyalties—was too much. He turned abruptly, leaving the cell without another word, his thoughts swirling in a tempest of conflicting emotions.

As he walked away, the echo of Gwayne’s voice lingered in his mind, a reminder that some truths, no matter how painful, couldn’t be ignored forever. But for now, he needed time to reconcile the man he had always believed himself to be with the truths he couldn’t yet fully accept.

And so, Vaeron returned to the world above, leaving the man who called himself his father to the shadows, knowing that one day—perhaps too soon—he would have to confront the reality of who he truly was.

#house of the dragon #daemon targaryen #gwayne hightower #ser gwayne #gwayne x reader #gwayne x you #gwayne x y/n #silverwing #daemon targeryen x reader #daemon x y/n #daemon x you #hotd daemon #daemon x reader #hotd gwayne #hotd x reader #hotd

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colourstreakgryffin · 8 months

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I was wondering if you can do Alastor x daughter! Reader? She’s manifested from his magic and because of that she has some of Alastor’s powers. However, she’s the complete and total opposite of him. She’s kind and sweet like Charlie, but is very shy. She never likes bringing out her true demon form for she is very terrifying. Alastor is very protective of her. Although, what if she sees Alastor get hurt by another overlord or Adam and he turns into her demon form to protect him and everyone is surprised by this and maybe even terrified of her.

OMFG. Yes! Second Alastor request in a rooowww! I love this man uncontrollably and he would be a good daddy. He’s a stag papa with his little fawn for reaaall! I love this idea, lots of loves and so much thanks for giving Hazbin Hotel more attention— or, I guess Alastor!

Father! Alastor- Hell’s Angel

Okay… Alastor wasn’t suspecting to pop a kid out of thin air when he actually wanted to pop a kid out of thin air. His magic is very powerful, no doubt but he birthed a child from solely his own powers and about 100% of his own DNA so his daughter’s features are primarily matching his own but there are some personal key differences Alastor wanted you to have to seperate yourself from him

So, you’re not a carbon copy of your dad, the Radio Demon. More just have the same deer features and red colouring

Alastor also wasn’t suspecting to have born an angel of his own. Sweet, affectionate, cheery, always smiling but smiling in a more welcoming and natural manner than her papa. He doesn’t mind it, you’re his babygirl. He loves you dearly, even after he just shat you out from literally nothing. He’s just surprised!

Well, at least Charlie loves you because you’re like… exactly what she loves and Alastor gets jealous of how well Charlie bonds with his own daughter!

Alastor has never known how to handle his own powers so when you begin manifesting voodoo dolls and portals containing all kinds of demonic beasts, he has to figure out how to get around all of it without hurting you a single bit. He has a whole plan scheduled out for anytime your powers trigger at random

Alastor’s protective, loving, clingy and carries you around a lot. He loves being able to bond with you, he likes hearing your cute deer noises when you’re trying to talk to him. He never lets you leave his sight and whilst he reframes from murder, he may just kill Vox for insulting his little fawn

Alastor now has all the full right to tell awful Dad jokes, since he is a proper Dad now. Rest in peace once again, Angel Dust

Yes. Alastor is the type to spoil his daughter. Spoil rotten, he isn’t going to stop and he isn’t sorry. He loves his little princess and no matter what, he’ll give her what she wants. If anybody dares to take what she wants from her, he’ll send them to double hell then give his babygirl extra hugs and kisses as apologises

Alastor knows, like him, you have your own full demon form and for a harmless sweetheart like yourself(that only uses your powers to help the Hotel staff). Your full form is actually terrifying and you know that, which is why you avoid it. You don’t want to scare anybody, especially not your beloved dad so you always reframe from getting too mad

Just let Papa Alastor handle anything bad. He’ll protect and care for you in the most sweet, cuddly way possible

Alastor is a lunatic, barely sane, monstrous all under a passive-aggressive, well-mannered, dapper 1930s gentleman image but when it comes to you, you’re the most healthy thing he has and he feels genuine love, care and affection for his own offspring. He only views you as his daughter, nothing else or anything exploitative. After all, he acts more like the one serving you than anything. He’ll get you whatever you want, no questions asked

Alastor wants to keep you away from threats so when Adam attacks the Hazbin Hotel. He has no choice but to leave you with Charlie. However, this didn’t last long since you knew your father was struggling when you heard his voice’s radio effect cut out. That was immediately a sign that you, not even a ten-year-old, to jump in and it caused you to rampage against Adam when you used your powers to track down and make it over to Alastor

“PRINCESS! GET AWAY FROM HERE NOW!” Alastor, despite the giant thick cut across his chest, staining his red pinstriped coat, over the white trims of his dark red lapels, yells out as loud as he can to catch his child’s attention, to get her to back off. Struggling to rise up to his feet with his tall fluffy deer-like ears pinned back. A sign of his fear, not because of seeing his babygirl in her full demon form throwing everything she has at the angel, Adam but because you’re in so much danger attacking Adam

Adam isn’t a merciful being, despite being an Angel, and the risk to your life is extremely high. Your demon form is ten times more demonic than any sinner can manifest, due to being produced by raw demonic magic, you form into a pure demonic entity

Screeching out in a menacing echoey way, entirely black and clumpy, phasing in and out like mist, shaped like a mighty Wendigo deer with literally zero resemblance to your cute little form. To you, your father’s in danger and with his cane snapped in half, his powers limited and his radio voice effect gone

You can’t just sit around in Charlie’s arms and let Alastor get killed by this psycho angel!

You have to risk everything to let Alastor escape. However, he isn’t going anywhere without you and is frantically trying to think of a way to get you away from Adam as the said holy entity keeps throwing swings after swings with his holy sharpened guitar to break off all the attacks coming from your Wendigo-style full form, letting out many strings of hateful curses at both you and Alastor. It’s clear with all the shadowy spines and green electricity shocks that you’re desperately trying to fend off the much stronger Angel to try protect your father

But if the Radio Demon himself couldn’t take on Adam for any longer than a few minutes. Of course, you don’t stand a chance, lasting half the time Alastor did. Being beaten when Adam outspeed and charged down a devestating sharp swing on your full form’s form head after you attempt to attack again. Thinking rather fast, you used your magic to cushion the blow to avoid it actually killing you

Being thrown over on the opposite end to where Alastor is and fading back into your normal demon form, a nasty big cut all down your back to the end of your fluffy deer tail, sobbing and clenching fangs

The staff watching nearby were terrified yet impressed. Impressed a child of your age and confidence was able to get that many hits on Adam and manage to guard yourself from a attack from Adam himself, getting away with merely just one cut

The Radio Demon growls frustrated and outraged at being forced to watch his child being thrown around like some doll and get even more hurt, now cornered by Adam, since it’s clear he doesn’t care to attack Alastor anymore. Thinking just as fast and getting up properly with his snapped-into-two cane in one tightening fist

Alastor phases through into the shadows in an almost melting fashion, dragging you down with him in the same shadowy engulfing manner by a single black trail travelling over to where you laid, leaving the bloodthirsty human ancestor as the victor of this fight. Needless to say, Alastor was so pissed. Pissed he lost the fight when he had managed to get many hits on Adam at the first section of the fight and pissed that said Angel dared to put his hands on his angel

At least… you’re safe now. Bleeding, hurt, crying and tired from overworking yourself whilst laid in Alastor’s arms, but you’re alive and okay. In your father’s hold and safe. Away from the Hotel and protected by the Voodoo’s shadowy magic

“You’re okay, darling… you’re okay. Papa’s got you, he’s always got you”

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sunderwight · 4 months

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Scenario where PIDW Bingge had something like the fucked up baby dimension from Fire Emblem: Fates for handling his kids.

For those who haven't played enough Fire Emblem games: in Fates you can hook up various characters who will, once they've bonded sufficiently, get married and have children. Because there is a dangerous war on and nobody has time for childcare, these babies get sent to various pocket dimensions where time moves differently, where they are raised by servants. They then reappear in the story as adults (mostly) who are also just like, barely younger than their own parents. This is of course hilariously fucked up, for even more reasons than what a simple overview can convey, and it's also just kind of shrugged off by the narrative despite the many, many bewildering implications involved.

So I'm imagining Airplane stealing this whole concept and sitting down to write about Bingge sending all of his children away in order to protect them from his enemies or whatever other excuse, creating special nursery dimensions with Xin Mo only to not really spend any time with his offspring at all, resulting in a lot of them growing up extra fast and reentering the story as adults at wildly unpredictable intervals (i.e. whenever Airplane feels like it without having to remember the timelines involved because *waves hand* time passes differently in the different dimensions too). For the daughters, this just gets them married off into alliances (if they're even mentioned at all, because Airplane doesn't want to write incest and there's basically only one reason female characters get mentioned in this story), but for the sons, this usually has them showing up as upstart challengers to their father's throne. With a conclusion, generally, of them getting their asses kicked and then being sent back to their pocket dimensions with their tails between their legs (Binghe killing his own kids would be too reprehensible, after all). Sometimes (rarely) they become loyal generals. One or two have died to fuel revenge arcs. The protagonist halo extends only limited benefits to his kids.

Anyway, Shen Yuan of course reads all of this and absolutely hates it. What do you mean Binghe doesn't even raise his own kids?! What do you mean even their mothers don't?! Shen Yuan understands that Luo Binghe is an important guy with important things to do, but handling it this way makes it impossible to even consistently visit his children on their birthdays! They'd be having birthdays every day because they're all on freaking Narnia time! And of course his sons keep growing up and trying to overthrow him, surely Binghe himself should appreciate that under these conditions, his children are going to see the servants raising them as parents more than some distant emperor they've never met...? Not to mention, if time moves quickly in these dimensions, theoretically Binghe could just stay there with his kids himself and not have to worry too much about things changing in his realm, because only a few months would pass there! He could have it both -- spend plenty of time with his kids and not worry about neglecting his responsibilities! So why doesn't he do that?!

The answer (never actually provided by Airplane) is that Bingge doesn't really feel a strong connection to his children, and because of his reverence for his adoptive mother, he thinks that giving them peaceful lives with simple people to raise and love them is the kindest thing he can do for them. If he could have had an idyllic childhood with his mother in a place where nothing could harm him, he would have never sought power at all.

But of course, Binghe's kids aren't thinking "oh gosh yeah my humble childhood in a magic dimension was much better than starving on the streets!" because that wasn't ever going to be their fate in the first place. Instead they all develop varying complexes about being sent away by their impossibly remote father and his giant harem.

Possible fic ideas involving this setup:

-Bingyuan where Shen Yuan transmigrates into the intended tutor of one Luo Binghe's most troublesome sons. SY arrives in the baby dimension and immediately bonds with the little Luo, gets really mad about the whole situation all over again, and when Bingge shows up for a rare visit, rips him a new asshole about it. Romcom shenanigans ensue.

-Scenario where SV's Shen Qingqiu and Luo Binghe decide they're ready to adopt, and SQQ figures out a back door into PIDW Binghe's baby dimensions and just sort of, ehm, borrows some of the children he knows had really bad times in the novel (not all of the idyllic upbringings worked out, there were instances of the dimensions being attacked and the servants there being killed and etc). Bingge eventually finds out. Dramatics ensue.

-When PIDW Binghe tries to summon a Shen Yuan of his own to the PIDW world using Xin Mo, it accidentally creates some stability issues with the baby dimensions. Shen Yuan get teleported in and out of these dimensions instead, bonding with the kids there to various degrees, only to be swept away every time Bingge tries to use Xin Mo to find him again. A handful of years later, a bunch of new Heavenly Demon scions emerge as adults with the Luo family's Shizun Complex in full swing, right around the same time that Bingge finally captures Shen Yuan. Hijinks ensue.

#svsss #bingqiu #bingyuan #scum villain #scum villain's self saving system #airplane seeing a horribly contrived plot device that makes little sense and exists only to facilitate fanservice: game recognizes game

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almostempty · 2 months

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Self Esteem

Pairing: fuckboy!joel x f!reader

Summary: Joel blows you off for your date. You end up blowing him when he shows up looking to score. Inspired by the song Self Esteem by The Offspring.

Warnings: kinda mean/fuckboy joel, mild dub con, smut, PWP, oral sex (m receiving), unprotected piv sex, joel comes on your tits, dirty talk, one (1) slap, choose your own joel era, readers on some dumb bitch juice for this man (i would be too), hit and run, smash and dash,

Notes: PLEASE send any feedback, this is the first thing i’ve ever written and posted, i’m tryn’ to practice and gain confidence bc my dream fic doesn’t exist so i gotta write it, it’s scary to post, y’all are so brave wtf

WC: 2.9K

AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/57513220

Part 2: Want You Bad

Part 3: Kick and Scream

Masterlist: Here

It’s a moderately painful type of suffering. Like purgatory. You’d made plans to go out tonight with Joel. It’s useless to expect him to show up, but you got ready and anxiously paced around your living room anyway. Checking your phone, at thirty minutes past the time he had said he’d pick you up. You sent him a text. His read receipts were on; he saw your message. Another thirty minutes pass agonizingly slowly. He hasn’t responded. You can feel a mild headache forming behind your eyes.

You grab a drink from your fridge and collapse on the couch with a sigh. A mixture of anger, regret, and rejection churns in your gut. You shouldn’t have set yourself up for disappointment.

No, he shouldn’t be such an asshole. You’ve got to stick up for yourself. Tell him off for his bullshit. The manipulation, standing you up, the lies. You know he’s using you.

Unfortunately, you find the toxic rush addictive. The way he charms and seduces you after disappearing or acting like an idiot. You enable his behavior every time.

And it’s sick that you like it. You like knowing it’s your door he knocks on in the middle of the night. He won’t take you on a date, but he still can’t stay away.

No. Not this time. You’re done letting him waste your time with plans that never materialize. You’re going to practice all the things you should say. Tell him to fuck off.

You grab another drink and return to the couch. The rejection is sinking in, and you’re feeling pretty low. You silence notifications from him in an attempt to take control of your thoughts. To stop waiting for it to light up with his name. You aren’t going to keep waiting for him.

You shower and change into a big T-shirt and underwear. Returning to the couch, you turn on some trash TV to shut your brain off. It helps. Keeps you distracted. When it hits 2 AM, you crawl off the couch and turn out the lights. You hope you’re tired enough to sleep without Joel haunting your thoughts.

You’re getting a glass of water to take to bed when you hear the knock at your door. Your stomach swoops and your body tenses with excitement.

You’re fucked.

You can’t stop the smile that breaks out on your face.

He’s like a stray cat. Or, more like a tomcat. You know he’s gonna sweet talk his way in. You should ignore him. You should leave him outside on your doorstep, horny and alone. Let him feel rejected this time.

You crack open the door and face Joel. He glows in the moonlight, stupid eyes sparkling when he looks at you. He leans an arm on the door frame and purrs at you.

“Baby.”

You roll your eyes. His breath smells like whiskey.

“What the fuck, Joel? Where were you?”

He frowns. Big brown eyes try to weaken your defenses.

“Work thing.”

“Til 2 AM?”

“One of the guys on the crew. Was his birthday, so we had to take him out.”

You don’t believe him. You feel the urge to slap him across his scruffy cheek. You feel the urge to pull him in and kiss him.

No. You can’t listen to that voice. The voice that still gets butterflies over him showing up at the door. He’s only here because all the bars closed, and now he’s looking to score.

He preys on your moment of weakness. You’re in a debate with your inner demons, and he barges his way into your space. He moves like a blur. You blink and his rough hand is tracing the line of your jaw.

He’s caging you in against the back of your door. He leans in closer. Hot breath fanning over your face. Your breath is still caught in your throat. You have half a mind to shove him off of you and begin your lecture, but he gives you no chance.

He presses urgent kisses and bites along your jawline and down the column of your throat. A vampire at your door. You didn’t invite him in, but he’s got his teeth sinking into your flesh anyway.

He smells like sweat, sawdust, and some over-scented men’s deodorant. Smells like a man, your lizard brain thinks.

Trapped between him and the door, the closeness is intoxicating. His body is large and powerful and radiates a frenetic energy. Like he’s buzzing with need for you. You can’t help it; you like feeling wanted like this. Desired. The way he crashes into you like a feral beast—

“Wait.” Some sense flashes into your conscience.

“Hmm?” he growls in your ear. His face is still buried against your neck while his hands grope at your body. You can feel the heat radiating off of him. His hands move to knead at your breasts through your soft, faded shirt. You fight to ignore the pleasure.

“Joel.”

“Hmm.”

“You can’t just show up in the middle of the night after bailing on me and expect to get laid.”

His hands slide under your shirt. The skin-to-skin contact makes you dizzy. He pinches and pulls at your nipples, and you fight back a moan, trying to refocus.

“Joel!” you snap at him.

“C’mon, I’m sorry, baby,” he coos into your skin.

He rocks his hips against you, and the sensation of his hard bulge in his jeans against your soft skin sends a jolt of need through your nervous system. The words you practiced earlier slip further and further from your mind.

“You can’t keep treating me like this.” You lob at him. The rest of your speech is hazy. You're grasping at sentence fragments, trying to remember the points you wanted to make.

“Not gonna keep working.”

“Quit,” he replies sharply.

“What?”

One of his large hands slides up, still under your shirt, bunching it up, and wraps around your throat. He bites at your chin. Sharp teeth. He kisses your cheek. Soft lips. He nips your earlobe. You gasp. He sucks it into his hot mouth. Your eyes slam shut.

You feel like you’re at his mercy, and the cavewoman inside of you just wants him to drag you to bed.

“Quit arguing,” he grumbles. His deep voice in your ear sends a rush of arousal down your spine.

“It’s not fair,” you protest.

He shifts. His hands travel downward to squeeze at the plush skin of your ass. He tugs you forward and shoves his knee between your legs. You lose any train of thought. Cruel man. You don’t care anymore. You’ll let him keep tearing pieces out of your heart. As long as you can keep using each other's bodies.

The pressure and friction of his thigh against your tingling pussy is the ultimate betrayal. You can’t stop the whiny gasps that come out of your mouth at the contact.

He lets out a satisfied chuckle at that. Cocky bastard.

“Not fair,” he repeats after you. “Hmm. Tell that to your wet cunt dripping on my leg, baby.”

Your core flutters at his words. You feel your face flush, but it’s hard to argue with him.

“I think you want me,” he continues.

You try to glare at him. Your hips don’t care, though, as they roll against him.

“S’alright, baby.”

You wish it were.

“I only want you.”

You desperately want to believe him. You shove that thought out of your mind.

He pulls your shirt off and rakes his eyes down your body. He’s menacing. His broad shoulders and tense muscles loom over you. He’s fully clothed while you’re bare except for your wet panties clinging to your folds.

Your chest heaves as you watch him. He has a carnivorous gaze. You’re prey with your soft body exposed; he’s a hungry predator waiting to make a lethal move.

But he doesn’t strike.

He moves painfully slowly. Tracing a finger down over your lips, down your chest, and belly, to the hem of your underwear. He slips the tip of his finger underneath and skates it across your skin from left to right.

“Fuck,” you breathe, tense and twitching at the sensations. It’s too delicate. His expression looks like he wants to eat you whole, but his movement is restrained.

“Know you do.” his voice washes over you, and a slight hum echoes in your throat.

“You want me.” he husks.

He pushes you back off his thigh. His hand dives further into your panties, and he drags his fingers through the pool of your arousal and spreads it through your folds. A smile breaks out on his face.

“Yes,” you exhale as your body shudders.

A look flashes across his features, and his eyes darken with lust. You peer down to watch his hand disappear in your underwear.

“Say it.” He demands.

“What?” Your eyes flick up to his.

“Say it.” He repeats firmly.

You writhe a little as he continues to toy with you. He’s wicked. Tracing circles around your clit, but not long enough to build a satisfying rhythm before he dips down and fills you with two fingers. He moves them lazily for his own enjoyment.

You groan in frustration. It’s a tempting sound to his ears, but he doesn’t look amused. He’s waiting to hear it.

“I want you?” you guess what he’s waiting for you to say.

There's no use lying about it if that’s what he wants to hear. You want him. Even if you’ve been ruminating over his shitty behavior all night.

“You askin’ or tellin’?”

“Want you,” you repeat as a statement.

He pulls his hand away completely. Your body jerks, chasing his touch.

“Please,” you try.

“Again.” he’s gruff. Ferocious as he demands you confess your desire.

You sigh. Maybe for giving up so quickly or maybe because you always knew you would.

“I want you.”

He doesn’t relax. Or move.

“Again.” He repeats like he’s a malfunctioning robot.

“I want you, Joel.”

“Again.”

“Please, Joel, I want you.”

The hint of a smirk appears on his face.

He taps your chin, encouraging you to part your lips. He slides his wet fingers in your mouth, along your tongue, and then removes them. He holds your open mouth, fingers around your jaw, and looks as if he’s assessing the quality of your tongue.

“Prove it.” He commands.

His tone does something to your brain.

Tomorrow, you might be confused at how he blew you off, but you ended up on your knees blowing him. But right now, you’re chasing a desperate need.

He steps back to give you space. You drop to your knees as he undoes his belt. Your eager hands work his jeans and boxers down far enough to expose his leaking cock.

If you looked, you might’ve caught his condescending smirk, now fully exposed.

You don’t look. You don’t wait for further instructions. You lap at his tip and tease with your tongue. You start working him into your mouth.

The weight of his cock on your tongue causes you to moan. The vibrations cause him to moan right back.

His arm shoots out to the door behind you for support. His head hangs, watching you move.

“Fuck,” he groans at the sight of your lips wrapped around him. His clipped grunts and the way his core flexes encourage you. Your soft hand works in tandem with your mouth, and you’re drooling openly. You coat him in saliva. Messy. Your lips are swollen.

When he breaches your throat, you slow down to focus on your breathing and swallowing. Little gags contract around the head of his cock as you focus on relaxing.

“Fuck. Yeah, baby, show me you want it,” he rambles above you.

You keep going and take him deep until your jaw aches and your pussy throbs. Hearing him react and spew filth at you stokes the fire in your core.

“Knew your cock hungry mouth was waiting for me,” he slurs.

A flash of embarrassment courses through you at that statement.

You did wait for him. You should’ve said no. But it’s so hard when he shows up ready to go. You may be dumb for tolerating his actions, but you’re not going to turn down a man that looks like him and fucks like he does.

“Eyes up,” he orders.

You whine around him, looking up through your lashes. Obedient. With your eyes locked on each other, something passes briefly between you. Easy to miss, hard to describe. Like you could look at each other like that forever. Then it’s gone.

He slides out of your mouth. Ogling the pornographic way spit trails between his tip and your tongue. The way your lashes are wet from trying to blink away the tears of exertion.

“I did wait, Joel. Waited for you all night,” your voice comes out a little hoarse. You can’t be bothered if it sounds desperate.

“‘Course you did,” he smiles and cradles your cheek in his palm. “Get up.”

You don’t argue. He helps to pull you up, spins you around, and walks you the few steps over to your couch. He bends you over the armrest. You’re burning with need.

He takes his time pulling your panties off. The way he has you presented for him makes you impatient.

“Joel,” you whine his name in protest.

“Quit.” He slaps your ass to make his point.

You huff, but when both of his large palms spread your cheeks wider for his own enjoyment, another needy whine slips out of your throat.

He chuckles darkly at you.

“I’ll give you what you need,” he assures you before he sinks into your desperately empty hole.

You groan in unison as he fills you.

“So deep,” you murmur. He fits like he was made for you. Fills you up, so you can’t think of anything else. Can’t think of what you wanted to say or how you felt watching the time pass while you waited for him to show up earlier.

“Always,” he agrees.

He picks up a bruising pace. On edge for so long, you might go blind with the force of your building climax.

He grasps your hair at the base of your skull and pulls, further arching your back and ripping another moan from deep in your chest. The sensations are overwhelming, and your mind feels blank. The sounds of his hips slapping into you and your combined panting, grunting, and babbling turn to white noise. The consistent drive of his cock against the perfect spot inside of you has you hurtling to the edge.

“Yeah, baby, I know what you want,” he croons. Your breasts bounce with every thrust, and his other hand wraps around you to squeeze at them tightly. He remains steady and brutal with his movements. He does know what you want. And he keeps giving it to you.

“Please, yes, don’t stop,” you beg.

You wriggle one hand down to touch yourself. The pressure from your fingers around your clit brings you over the edge. You clench around him and gasp as you come.

“Yeah, that’s it. You come on this cock,” he rasps behind you as he works you through it.

You feel the release melt your muscles, causing you to slump forward.

“Oh, fuck,” he breathes, and you know he’s trying to hold on as he pulls out and pants heavily.

“Turn around for me,” he demands, stepping back. “On your knees.”

You obey and turn to kneel in front of him. He looks wrecked, his eyes half-lidded and his mouth hanging open. His fist wrapped around his cock, still glistening from your release.

It’s a debauched scene. He’s still fully dressed, only as exposed as necessary. He charges towards his climax with frantic force. You pose for him eagerly despite your boneless, damp form.

He looks so primal it makes you lightheaded. You bite your lip to stop yourself from letting a giggle out. Your face shines with a sated glow.

You tilt your head up and squeeze your tits together for him.

“Fuck, fuck,” he rasps out like it’s the only word he knows at this point. Your glossy, swollen lips pout up at him. Like, you need him to finish for you. That sends him. He comes across your chest as you release your hands, dropping your breasts with a little bounce..

He stares at you as his breathing slows. His warm spend is rapidly cooling against your skin. You still have a glowy, dreamy look on your face. Content.

“You look so good like that,” he praises you. A flush creeps up your chest and neck.

You stand up and grab your forgotten water from the coffee table. He tucks himself back into his jeans and fastens his belt.

“You gonna buy me breakfast to make up for bailing?” you float the idea with a joking tone, but there’s hope behind it.

“Sorry, baby, got a job early in the morning.”

“Right,” you snarl at him as he leans in to kiss you.

“How about dinner after?” he suggests and fishes for his keys in his pocket.

“Okay, yeah, what time?” You ask.

“Not sure when I’ll be done.” He’s not looking at you. “I’ll text you.”

He turns, slips out the door, and then he’s gone.

You’re still standing there, naked and dumbfounded, with his drying come across your tits as he drives away.

You groan and curse at yourself. He’s not going to text you tomorrow.

You should stick up for yourself. But he did say he wants only you. And the more you suffer, the more it shows you really care, right?

460 notes · View notes

bunnyhugs77 · 9 months

Text

Daddy Daycare

Pairing: Technician! Jungkook x Teacher's Assistant! Reader

Word Count: 7k

Part: 1, 2, 3

Series Content: daycare au, suggestive themes, love at first sight? dilf jk, mentions of antidepressants, mint jk and blonde jk, jk cant sleep, sexual themes, he's so whipped, toxic ex, minor baby mama drama, gold diggers, mentions of death, complicated family history, cute kid cameos, reader can't drive, jk is good with his hands, mentions of abusive relationships, so much fluff.

Other Series Content: soft dom! jk, muscle kink, pussy puts his ass to sleep, unprotected sex (just don't), oral sex (f! and m! receiving), brief choking, minor breeding kink, hickeys, brief dom! reader, reader makes him wait, intimate cuddling, praise.

"Ready for a new year, Y/n?"

Your nose was filled with the smell of fresh paint and scotch tape as you and your co-worker Vanessa who goes by Ms. Powell when the class is swarming with bright and bustling four-year-old's.

The loud sound of ripping tape rang through your ears as you pasted the pieces onto the back of the welcome sign. The sun was hardly out as the two of you arranged to arrive at your new classroom bright and early at 5 am to finish off the decorations for the classroom.

"I can't believe the summer is finished already." You say with a rejuvenated smile. "I can only imagine how fast the time flies when you're travelling Europe." She reminds you of your two-week-long travels across the south of Europe.

Standing to your feet for what feels like the first time ever after hours of crouching and kneeling to finish up the decorations. "I think that's the last of it," with a puff of air and a pair of hands on your hips you smile to yourself, satisfied with the lively environment the two of you managed to create.

"I think we're ready," Vanessa says, cracking open a fresh whiteboard marker to sign your names on the board in a warm welcome.

With a quick glance down to your watch. "-and just in time too,".

The sun had peaked over the horizon no more than thirty minutes ago which means that theatrical parents would be rolling in any minute now to send off their kids to what could possibly be their first day away from them.

You both took the last few minutes to run down the hall and get changed, making sure you both looked ready to take on 22 pre-schoolers. Although you weren't the head teacher, you still had just as much of a responsibility as Vanessa did and it wasn't always easy.

The scar on your upper arm which was victim to the shark-like teeth of an ambitious little boy last year can attest to that.

You smiled warmly to some parents who passed by you in the halls on your way back to the classroom. Some familiar faces, some new, although based on the direction they were walking, they weren't any kids in your class.

By the time you returned to yours, there were already two parents bidding their farewells with their energetic offspring who were already reaching for the crayons you'd left on each table.

You slowly made your way to the front with Vanessa as the two of you prepared to introduce yourselves to the large crowd of parents and students that situated themselves around the room.

The energy was high, you could practically feel some of the anxiety and excitement from the crowd.

"Hello everyone!" Vanessa starts, clasping her hands together, "On behalf of Sunshine Circles Daycare, we want to give you all a warm welcome to our class."

Vanessa introduces herself professionally before briefly gesturing to you, cueing your smile, "And this is Ms. Hill, she will be assisting both me and the students around the classroom. I wouldn't be able to do this without her." You nod along, preparing yourself to speak.

"Yes, so if ever Ms. Powell is unavailable, don't be afraid to share any questions or concerns with me that you have about the class or your child." Out of sight, somewhere in the crowd a pair shuffled through the large group of bodies and made their way to the front.

"We're looking forward to-" You paused, your eyes meeting the eyes of the man who just emerged from the crowd while holding the small hand of who you presumed was his son, he looked a little younger than the rest of the parents, and significantly buffer if you must add.

You could see peaks of his soft blue hair sticking out from underneath his black beanie that matched his black wife beater. He flashes you a coy smile, so innocent and handsome to the point he'd made you forget your train of thought and completely forget what you were in the middle of saying.

"I think what Ms. Hill was about to say was that we're looking forward to having a wonderful year full of learning and fun." Vanessa fills in your blanks and all you could utter was a small 'mhm!'.

With that said, the parents that'd been here since the very beginning had naturally begun to take their leave, not without a tight hug and reassuring kiss to their child's forehead of course.

"Sorry we're late," You turn around, and it's as if the air was sucked out of your lungs. The man was even more stunning up close, but that was something you vowed you would never acknowledge again. He's the guardian of one of your students, it would be unprofessional.

"That's no problem at all, life happens," you chirp, almost too happily. "Isn't that the truth, Ryan here couldn't seem to find his favourite shoes and refused to wear anything but." The man smiles, and wow, even his smile was attractive.

If you thought his smile was contagious you just couldn't stop yourself from beaming when you finally looked down to meet Ryan's big grin. "Look! It's lightning McQueen!" He shouts, stomping his feet at one hundred miles a minute, the base of his sneakers flashing red and white as he does so.

"Your shoes are awesome! I wish mine could do that." You return his big energy with a bit of a softer tone, oblivious to the way the man is watching you intently. All of a sudden Ryan was hopping up and down, tugging on his dad's arm, "Can I colour?!" He points to the table full of markers and blank papers.

"Well, you're going to have to ask Ms. Hill first, okay buddy?" The man looks at you with a damn near glow in his gaze, "Of course it's okay. Use as many colours as you'd like." Before you could even finish your sentence, Ryan was long gone, only the flashes of his sneakers were proof that he hadn't teleported.

"Have you been teaching here long?" He asks, prompting you to shake your head. "This is actually only my second year teaching here," subconsciously his plump bottom lip found itself victim between his teeth. "Ah," he sighs.

There was a brief pause in your conversation. As if it were planned, both of your gazes dropped down to analyze the other's left hand, looking for any signs of that metallic band wrapped around the ring finger.

Seems like you were both in the clear, for now.

Your conversation resumed as if the ring inspection never even happened and soon the both of you were finally making introductions. "The kids call me Ms. Hill, but you're more than welcome to call me Y/n." That lip ring was taunting you as it sat so comfortably in his plush pink lips that stretched into a soft smile.

"It's a pleasure to meet you Y/n, I'm Jungkook."

"Goddamn it." You mutter. Giving the projector another hard hit in the back as it flickered and failed to turn on. It had been giving you a hard time all week.

You're at least grateful it let you have a successful first week of the year but now it was acting up more than ever. Kids would be coming any minute and Vanessa was stuck in traffic, so you would somehow need to find a way to fix this and supervise all before--

"Good morning Ms. Hill," Never mind you think, giving the projector one last frustrated tap. Disregarding it as if it never happened and focusing on Jungkook and Ryan who just walked in.

Ryan shouts a cheery good morning of his own before getting his hands on the toy car he's grown fond of over the last week. Unspokenly declaring it as his own.

"I couldn't help but notice.. and hear your frustrations with the projector from down the hall. Something wrong?" He takes two confident strides towards the equipment with you trailing along.

"Yeah, it's been breaking down all week. I was hoping to show the kids a video today, but it seems I may have to improvise." He didn't respond with anything more than his warm smile as he laid his hand down on the top of the projector giving it a once over.

His brows furrow ever so slightly before he lets out a little laugh.

"What's so funny?" your arms cross instinctively, eyes never leaving his lean frame as he practically struts over to the outlet and properly plugs in the cord, the graphics now displaying perfectly on the screen.

"In all of my years working in tech, that may have been one of the hardest cases to solve." He teases and you subconsciously let your tongue poke the inside of your cheek, failing to hide an embarrassed smile.

You waved to the parents who were dropping off more students, "If you ever have any more technical issues, I'd be happy to help." He reaches into his back pocket and places one of his business cards in your hand. "I will, thank you."

You shook off whatever the hell it was that was bubbling in your stomach, and reminded yourself things were strictly professional and he was only offering to be nice, nothing more.

The weeks were flying by without you realizing it until Thanksgiving was mere weeks around the corner. Which meant today was show and tell. Vanessa instructed everyone to sit on the carpet in a big circle.

Yesterday you reminded parents to help their child to find something they loved at home so they could bring it to show and tell.

"Thanksgiving is a special day of the year where we-" Vanessa was in the middle of explaining from where she sat crisscrossed on the carpet in the circle while you picked up the abandoned crayons and papers on the desk.

"Eat lots of food," cute giggles filled the room from Carly's outburst. "Yes, that's right. We eat lots of food on Thanksgiving and it's a day to be grateful for everything you have. Can anyone tell me what it means to be grateful for something?"

The class had never been so quiet, full of scrunched brows and blank stares. "It means to be happy with what you have. How many of you have toys at home?" Almost all hands shot up at once, you were afraid someone would lose an eye.

"Do you like your toys,? The room filled with lots of loud and affirmative responses, "To be grateful for something like your toys means showing them extra love and saying thank you to your parents who bought them."

By the time you'd finished cleaning up and joined the circle, they were about halfway through the circle for show and tell, everyone getting a chance to say what they brought and why they loved it along with passing it around the circle.

"Thank you for sharing Ms. Cuddlepuff with us Riley."

"Ryan, what did you bring?" He practically lights up when his turn finally comes around. He introduced his favourite blue race car, and described it as fast and shiny, even holding it while he spun the wheels for us.

"What an amazing car! Do you want to pass it around?" He shakes his head. You tried to be gentle understanding why he wouldn't want to share, "Don't you want your friends to be able to see your amazing car too?" He shakes his head, hugging his toy close to his chest and scooting further back, removing himself from the circle.

"Ryan-" Vanessa tries to reason but he starts to yell, "I don't want to share! It's mine!" He stomps his feet, the lights on his shoes flashing red, a similar shade to his furious expression.

You looked over to Vanessa, the both of you deciding you weren't going to fight him on it.

"Okay Jamie, what did you bring today?" He shakes his head as if he is mimicking Ryan's behaviour. "I don't want to share either."

Oh boy.

Finding a way to get the rest of the class to share their objects had taken all of your willpower and the rest of the day, right until parents were walking in, ready for pick up.

"Hey," You smile as you watched Jungkook walk in wearing his typical white collared shirt with the top button open giving you only the slightest peak of the silver chain beneath that sat atop his honey-kissed skin--

"Daddy!" Ryan squeaked, running off to grab his coat and shoes.

"How was he today?" You tried to hide your regret but he noticed it, no matter how fast it flashed across your features. "What is it?" His voice was soft, welcoming any feedback.

"He had a bit of a hard time sharing during the show and tell. He didn't want his classmates to touch his car, which I understand but we try to encourage the students to be kind and share." Your heart was pounding, you always hated these kinds of talks.

You felt that it was just criticism, but in reality, it was just one rainy in comparison to one hundred sunny ones. Jungkook exhaled heavily. "I don't know what is with him and this car, he won't even let me hold it."

As if on cue, Ryan comes running back to his father with his jacket on and car in hand. His dad ruffles his hair playfully while the boy wraps his arms around his father's legs.

"I'm sorry about what happened. We're working on it, I promise." Nothing but sincerity rolled off his tongue as he looked down at the child who clung to his jeans.

"Come on buddy, let's go. Say bye to Ms. Hill."

"Bye, Ms. Hill!" He waves back to you before walking out the door.

As the clock rolled closer the 4:30, all the kids had gone home and it was just you and Vanessa going through the schedules for tomorrow.

"So how long are you gonna keep flirting with Ryan's dad." maybe you'd put on too much lotion earlier, it was pure coincidence that your pencil had immediately fallen from your hand.

She laughs as if something were hilarious. "I am so not flirting with him." She rolls her eyes, "Oh please, I have never seen you spend nearly half as much time talking to the other parents as much as you talk to him. Not to mention the hearts in your eyes."

You let your head fall into your hands out of sheer embarrassment, "I don't know what to do!" You almost shriek into your sweaty palms.

"A word of advice, save yourself the trouble and don't get involved. I don't believe that he's married but that doesn't mean there are no strings attached either. Believe me, I've been there, things can get messy and it's just not something you want."

Vanessa was bout seven years older than you, somewhere around 32 so you always took her advice to heart. "But didn't you end up marrying them, and then have two children?" She goes silent. "Yeah, well life is unpredictable."

You groan, letting your body fall back onto the carpet.

"Attention passengers, This is your driver speaking. I regret to inform you that we are currently experiencing a mechanical issue, and the bus has broken down. I apologize for any inconvenience this may cause."

Your head rolled back and hit the wall behind you. This is fantastic. It was supposed to be a great day today. It's Friday today. Specifically the last day before your three-day long weekend before the long weekend with Thanksgiving falling on the Monday.

You checked the time, 7:45. You should be there in 10 minutes, and honestly, you considered getting off the bus and walking but there were about 4 inches of freshly fallen snow from last night covering the city and it was far too cold to embark on such a journey at this time of day.

You wouldn't be there until 9 at the earliest.

Meanwhile,

"Have a great day Ryno. Daddy loves you." Jungkook places a quick peck on Ryan's forehead watching him join his friends. He couldn't help himself from scanning the class for you, wondering where you were.

In the meantime he approached Vanessa, handing her a small gift box. "I know Ryan has such a big personality, so here's a little something to help you get through the day." He smiles, "Happy Thanksgiving."

She was shocked to be receiving a gift for Thanksgiving, she usually only expected them around the holidays. It was a $50 gift card to her favourite coffee shop, she has their signature cup of coffee on her desk every morning. "Thank you, Mr. Jeon, this is incredibly thoughtful, and Ryan is such a delight to teach."

"I also have something for Ms. Hill, but I haven't seen her. Is she away today?" Vanessa's brows scrunched, realizing that you would usually be there by now. Her phone begins to ring, "Oh- This is her calling now." Jungkook didn't know whether to stay and listen but he couldn't bring himself to walk away.

"Your bus broke down? Where?"

"East of Park Avenue? That's 30 minutes away." Jungkook's brain was doing summersaults around a mental map he was programming in his head trying to locate where you were based on the information he was hearing.

The conversation continued for a minute more until it ended with Vanessa reminding you to 'stay warm'. "God, that's terrible. It's freezing outside." Jungkook frets and Vanessa manages to contain her thoughts from expressing themselves on her face, suppressing the smirk and opting for a head nod instead.

No less than 5 minutes had passed when Jungkook found himself behind the wheel driving towards your location. The minutes passed like seconds when he spotted the bus sitting on the side of the road.

Parking right behind it, he stepped out of the car and walked along the sides of it trying to spot you, but you saw him first. At first, you couldn't believe it but once you saw that ring tucked into his bottom lip, all doubts were gone.

You grabbed your bag and stepped off the bus, meeting him there at the steps. Looking down at him as the snow gently fell on his beanie, neither of you spoke. Your eyes seemed to be doing all the talking.

"Er-hem." Someone cleared their throat behind you, letting you know that they also wanted to get off and you were blocking the way. Apologizing you stepped off and to the side.

"What are you doing here?"

"I heard about what had happened and I couldn't stand there and do nothing. It's freezing out here." You could hardly look at him, he was just too cute, his nose and cheeks were beginning to turn a little rosy from the cold breeze that swept the snow across the sky.

"You came all this way just to give me a ride?" There were puffs of condensation with every breath and he nodded slowly, a little afraid he was coming off as a creep. "Y-yeah, I hope that's alright with you."

"That's perfectly fine with me, let's go before I lose feeling in my fingers for good." he snickers as you practically run towards the car that he'd unlocked.

You were so relieved to be sitting in a warm car with heated seats.

It was no time before Jungkook pulled out and began the careful drive back to the daycare.

The silence was comfortable and it gave you time to focus on regaining feelings in your limbs.

"I never knew that you took the bus," Jungkook starts, turning your face away from the flurries that fall outside the window and landing on the side of his face as he feigns concentration on the road.

"It's my only option since I don't drive," Jungkook's jaw fell open. He tried to catch it in time but it was too late, "Yeah yeah I know. I'm 25 and I don't drive." He takes advantage of the red light to face you, "There's no shame in that. I didn't mean to come off as judgy I was just surprised."

"No, I know. I'm not mad, I'm actually used to it. " The silence resumes, "Is there a reason why you don't drive?" He immediately regretted asking, he felt like he was prying and didn't want to make you uncomfortable. You were already in his car for god's sake.

"You don't have to-"

"I was 19."

Never mind, he thinks. You seemed more than ready to share.

"I was coming home from school, I had just finished my first exam of many, the roads were dark and I was tired. I thought I saw something run across the street but I told myself I was seeing things. Suddenly there was a thud. My car rocked over and over again, so finally, I stopped. I got out and I was terrified to see the trail of blood that ran behind my wheel. There was a black cat that got caught on my tires and kept getting dragged and rolled around for 20 yards."

Jungkook's hand had somehow found its way cupped over his mouth throughout your story, nothing could have prepared him for a story like that.

"I'm a monster. I know. I've never driven since that day. It's best for the world If I simply don't drive." Now resuming his driving, he took one hand off the wheel to place on your shoulder. "Don't talk like that. You're not a monster. It's not your fault. It's not like you did it on purpose. I'm sure the cat forgives you."

You shake your head, "It doesn't change what I did."

Somehow the conversation had taken a brighter turn to the long weekend. "What are your plans for the weekend?" You ask him as he turns into the parking lot of the daycare.

"Same as always, Ryan and I will probably watch movies, cook and do some crafts." Your heart warmed at the engaged weekend he had ahead of him. "That sounds so sweet. I'm sure you guys have loads of fun." He nods, "How about you?"

You laugh sadly, "My parents decided to ditch the cold weather this year and headed to Florida a few weeks ago, so I'll be thankful for wool socks and gossip girl." he laughs.

"You know, It'd be a shame to spend the holidays on your own. You're more than welcome to join our festivities." you looked out the window, not in disinterest but so that he couldn't see the way your cheeks tinted pink.

He parks, "No I wouldn't want to impose on-"

"I insist. You wouldn't be doing anything of the sort. it would be nice to have you." You smile. "Okay, I'll be there,"

The hours flew by faster than you could even realize. Practically startled to see a parent walking into the classroom ready to pick up their child, and just like that, the day was over.

There were no more than a handful of kids left, but no more than the usual 5 or 6 whose parents had signed them up for aftercare due to their schedules, including Ryan who you just watched offer his crayons to his classmate Lia.

Vanessa was quick to acknowledge his kindness and gave him a sticker, you would have loved to have been part of the moment but unfortunately, you were just pulled into the hall by another teacher being asked to supervise another class while she used the bathroom.

By the time you returned, you saw Jungkook and Ryan packing up the last of their things getting ready to go, but he seemed almost relieved to see you.

"I never got the chance to give this to you earlier this morning," He hands you a small bag. You were stunned at what was inside. "In the spirit of thanksgiving, I wanted to show you my gratitude." He smiles.

You pry the bag open delicately moving over the tissue paper to see a hardcover novel. You knew the cover anywhere. "I've been trying to get my hands on this book for months! It's been sold out everywhere how did you get it?"

A sly grin slowly works its way across his features but he doesn't say. "How did you even know I wanted this?" You were trying your best to resist the urge to hug him. "I'd only seen you with the previous book laying on your desk wide open a dozen times, and all the sticky notes you'd have sticking out. It was a lucky guess that you were a fan of the series."

Stunned to silence, you let your smile speak for itself. "I love it. Thank you so much." His hand raises to his chest as a sign of relief but it is actually him trying to calm his racing heart. He was afraid you wouldn't like it; but what was there not to like?

How couldn't you like it?

Why couldn't you find anything you liked? Nearly half your closet was on your bed, quickly falling to the floor over time as you searched high and low for something to wear. This would be the first time Jungkook would see you outside of your workloads so you wanted to look good, but not too good of course.

You didn't want to seem like you were trying too hard. Being effortlessly flawless was the look you were trying to go for but you fear you've passed that point as you started to break a sweat a few minutes ago.

Unsure of how much time has passed, feeling stuck in the endless fashion time warp continuum. The pit in your stomach suddenly grew three times larger once you'd realized you had no more than 30 minutes to get ready if you wanted to catch your bus.

Begrudgingly, you finally picked something to wear. A minimalistic brown crew neck with your black Lulu leggings and beige wool socks that would match perfectly with your Uggs. You wanted to look cute but still put together, so you decided to slick your hair up into a neat bun.

Scrambling to grab your bag and your house keys before you paced your way down the street to the bus stop.

Watching the apartment buildings slowly become more narrow and shorter as you saw more and more modern condos. Only 20 minutes had passed on your commute until it was time to begin your 7-minute walk to your destination.

With one last sneak peek into your bag to make sure the desserts you'd brought were still in order and weren't dishevelled at some point during your journey.

Looking back up to the door, ringing the bell and waiting no more than 10 seconds before an over-eager Ryan swung the door open, out of sight but not out of earshot, you could still hear Jungkook's sweet voice scolding his son.

"Ryan, what did I tell you about opening the door?" Finally, he comes into sight from around a bend inside revealing an entirely new Jungkook.

He looked, good. Better than good. He looked hot.

Wearing an army green Essentials hoodie paired with beige cargos and a silver chain that hung around his neck.

Oh, and his hair was blonde.

Surprised that your eyes hadn't fallen out of their sockets at the sight of his freshly bleached locks with his naturally dark roots. God, he was so fine.

"Hey! Come in, come in. " He steps to the side and Ryan is gently nudged over by his dad's leg to make room for you and your things as you step inside.

Your senses are immediately welcomed by the scent of mahogany, carefully chosen as it mingles with the comforting aromas of a Thanksgiving feast in the making.

"Hi, Ms. Hill!" Ryan shouts, loud enough for you to hear from 50 feet away. He was just the cutest, "Hi, Ryan!"

Jungkook smiled, "I'm glad you could make it," instinctively reaching out to take the bag from your hands so you could focus on taking off your shoes and jacket. "I brought this for you guys." You say, prompting Jungkook to peek into the bad, grinning at the sight of the mini chocolate cupcakes.

"I can't guarantee these will make it to tomorrow."

Once your boots were off and sat neatly near the door, Jungkook offered to take your jacket from you, entrusting Ryan with the duty of holding the bag with the desserts and sending him off to place them somewhere in the kitchen.

"Your hair." You finally say, giving your neck a minor strain as you look up to the man as he leads you further into the house. Everything was styled so neatly.

The colour palette consists of soft whites and beige with a splash of greens and turquoise. The fireplace was lit, emanating a gentle warmth throughout the open concept. It gave the living room a cozy feel along with the brown fleece throw blanket that was placed carefully over his sectional couch.

"Yeah, I got pretty sick of the blue, I thought it was time for a change." With a mind of their own, his hands run through his hair before he gives it a shake. "Do you like it?" He knew the answer, you're sure he did.

It's like a demi-god asking if they were attractive, the answer was obvious. "It would be a lie if I said I didn't." You leaned onto the kitchen island, your line of sight landing on the four-year-old who busied himself with the pile of crayons and paper on the carpet.

You hated how easily the two of you fell into natural conversation almost forgetting that it was Thanksgiving if it weren't for the sudden waft of a delicious meal in the making hitting your nose. "Something smells delicious." Your nose twitched cutely as you sniffed; your curious brown eyes watching Jungkook as he rounded the island closer to you to check on the food in the oven.

"Hmmm... It'll be about another hour or so, I hope that's alright?" You'd decided to finally plant yourself down somewhere, inwardly unable to decide where since there were so many options, the big comfy couch, the table or the barstool chair that you finally decided to go with.

"In the meantime, do you want anything to drink? I have water, champagne, white wine, red wine, apple cider, coffee, milk- oh! and Apple juice." you can't help but giggle into your hand as he lists off what seems to be a never-ending list of beverages.

"Apple juice is fine, thanks." Or at least you thought it was the safe choice until you heard a loud objection bubble out of Ryan's throat. His voice was absolutely enraged. "No! That's mine!" His little steps quicken over to your feet, reaching for the juice box from your hand.

"Ryan. What did I tell you about sharing?" He doesn't listen, his face becoming more and more frustrated the longer he goes without your (his) juice box in his hands. His small hands reach out for you.

One could blame it on your background of teaching when you had an idea. Reaching for the child-sized cup on the counter as you popped open the juice box.

"Is it okay if we share it? You can have some and I can have some." He still didn't seem entirely convinced but he calmed down a little watching you squeeze half of the box into his cup before handing it down to him.

Holding the cup securely with his two hands he looks down into the cup with an inquisitive look, as if questioning your motives behind your generosity. "What do you say to Ms. Hill for being so nice and sharing?" He looks up at you, with no emotion on his face for an uncomforting amount of time, scanning you.

"Thank you, Ms. Hill!" He beams with a big smile and scuttles back to his drawing station, but Jungkook can't risk the little adventurer ruining his carpet and orders him to drink it in the kitchen. At least that way any spills can be wiped away from the tile.

Jungkook couldn't get over how patient you were, but he supposed it to be expected. You worked with dozens of kids every day for a living. You must be a saint. He's sure he would've lost it.

Jungkook groans, letting his head fall onto his arms as he leans onto the counter with a long sigh, one that lifts a bit of exhaustion from within him. "Everything alright?"

He nods, "'Jus' never thought being a single father would be this difficult. Every day it's eat sleep work repeat, on top of being a dad to a child who just can't seem to share with others, and it makes me wonder if it's my fault."

Maybe it was the hazy scented candles getting to your brain, the toasty fireplace nearby giving you warm fuzzies or maybe the apple juice had a little kick to it but you took a leap of boldness to place your hand on his shoulder.

Watching his eyes trail from your short manicured nails to your big brown eyes that looked at him with the utmost sincerity. Like a pool chocolate kindness. "He's a great kid, Jungkook. Every child goes through a rebellious stage at some point, it's practically inevitable. I've seen this over a thousand times, it doesn't take away from how special he is, just look at him."

The two of you observe the preschooler as he hums the tune to an incomprehensible song with his tongue slightly poking out as he coloured his papers passionately. "Thank you, Y/n." Your head whips around at the warm contact of his hand on yours, it didn't feel alarming at all, it was nice if anything.

"Wow. I don't think I could eat another bite, that may just be the best meal I've ever had." You groan, a limp hand on your stomach as you lean back in your chair, sitting across from Ryan whose placemat was covered in various foods and sauces that he was told to stop playing with half through dinner.

Jungkook grins from ear to ear, "Thanks, it's nice to hear." You sigh, "No seriously, where did you learn to cook like that? And more importantly, when can you teach me?" His head falls back as he laughs right from his chest. You couldn't help but think how much you were enjoying yourself.

"Funny you should say that," Jungkook picks up the empty plates from the table, putting them in the sink before walking out of view briefly leaving you with Ryan who stared at you with a grin.

"Where did your dad go?" His smile grew even wider if possible before bringing his gravy-covered index finger to his lips making a 'shush' noise. No more than 5 seconds passed before Jungkook returned with a pumpkin about the size of your head.

"Who wants to make pumpkin pie?" You laugh, unable to take him seriously.

"No I can't Jungkook- NO!" You shout, afraid you'd collapse from the lack of oxygen that was reaching your lungs from so much laughter as Jungkook was currently holding your hand trying to get you to scoop out some of the pumpkin seeds.

"You can do it, Ms. Hill!" Ryan cheers you on as your fingers make contact with the guts against your will. They were slimy, and soft, and triggered your sensory issues in every way imaginable. You gagged while Ryan laughed until his face was red.

Scooping out the last of them and placing them into the bag that Jungkook would dump into the compost later.

The three of you popped the pumpkin pie into the oven together and transitioned into your next set of activities. Soon the three of you made your own custom turkeys out of construction paper and googly eyes.

Which led you to now. The three of you snuggled up under the big brown blanket that was once just decoration but now provided warmth along with the crackling fireplace.

Now halfway into the Charlie Brown Thanksgiving movie, you looked into your side where Ryan had nestled himself comfortably, soft snores leaving his mouth with each breath.

"He's just the cutest." You say, moving one of his hairs out of his face, watching him while Jungkook watched you. Nothing is more appealing to him than watching you care for Ryan. "When did you know you wanted to start working with kids?" Jungkook asks, prompting you to think endlessly but you couldn't come to a conclusion.

"I don't know honestly. Maybe it's because I grew up in a pretty big family. Even though my immediate family is just me and my parents I was always the unspoken babysitter at family events, watching over all my younger cousins all the time."

"Well if no one has told you, let me be the first to say you're amazing." You turn to him, it was long past sunset, leaving the living room with a darker ambiance than when you'd first arrived but the warm glow of the flames on the side of Jungkook's face paired with that look in his eyes tempting you.

He leaned in ever so slightly but you looked towards the boy that was stirring uncomfortably in his sleep as if you were bothering him. With his still closed he flipped around to lay his head on the couch cushions instead.

It was impossible to contain your soft giggles at his sass even when he was sleeping. "You want something to drink?" Jungkook offers, "Please." you chuckle, unravelling yourself from the tangle of blankets and following him to the kitchen.

He poured you both a glass of wine, resuming your previous conversation from where you stood in the corner of the kitchen against the counter near the oven that radiated a glorious smell of pumpkin spice and cinnamon.

The tension could be cut with a knife. The way the two of you were looking at each other, practically stripping the other down with your eyes. Before you knew it, Jungkook was leaning into you and this time you definitely could blame it on the wine.

Placing your glass down on the counter behind you without thought and pulling his face to yours before finally pressing your lips against his own. Putting your heart into it before he pulled away, looking minorly dishevelled and flustered, "I-I was just reaching for my phone," He points weakly, his joints feeling as though they could fail him any second.

Your head rotates in horror to see his phone was in fact behind you and buzzing-- "Oh my god--" You held your red face in utter embarrassment, turning to walk away from him in shame but Jungkook would never allow that. Instantly grabbing you by the arm and pulling you back into him.

Your hips pressed flush against each other as he initiated a deep kiss, the kind you see at the end of a romance movie, nothing but passion and pent-up feelings. Feelings that he's held for you since the day he saw you.

He backed you up into the counter, your hands scrambling to brace yourself on his firm chest and he groaned softly into your mouth causing your knees to go weak. The kiss lasted longer than you thought you could hold your breath for, never wanting it to end.

"Wow-" you puff out a breath of air after the best kiss of your life. "A great cook and an even better kisser-- What can't you do?" For the first time, Jungkook's cheeks tint a rosy shade of pink but there's no time to respond as he hears Ryan complain.

"Daddy, I'm tired." You see his little head pop up from behind the couch with a bedhead of hair as he rubs his eye. "Yeah? You wanna get ready for bed little man? Come on let's go." Jungkook urges, turning to you with apologetic eyes, "I'll be right back, keep an eye on the pie for me?" You smile and nod.

Watching him disappear down the hall almost in a trace. A trance that was interrupted by the ceaseless buzzing of his phone. Buzz after Buzz after Buzz.

You shouldn't.

But the buzzing wouldn't stop.

What if it was an emergency?

You peeked at the screen.

Hana

-Where are you?

-I can't stop thinking about our night together.

-Pick up, I want to talk to you.

-When will I see you again? :(

Your stomach twisted, and you were certain it wasn't because of the wine. The oven timer goes off. How comedic. You shake it off, using the oven mitts to place the pie on the stove but ultimately deciding you wouldn't be able to stay any longer.

You didn't want to be the other woman, or the 'main' woman for that matter. You wanted nothing to do with someone who was possibly seeing two people at once.

Quietly you grabbed your things and made your way towards the door. Slipping into your Uggs and slinging your side bag over your shoulder when Jungkook sees you about to leave.

"Wait, Y/n. Where are you going? What's wrong?" Nothing but concern and confusion was written all over his face.

"I had a really great time tonight, Jungkook, Thank you. But I should really get going." Already twisting the door open and stepping through it, letting the frosty air nip at your cheeks and sweep by Jungkook's feet.

"it's dark and it's freezing outside, let me give you a ride." You object, "It's fine, it's only a 15-minute bus. I'll be fine. I'll see you tomorrow."

Like a whirlwind, you spun his world around and by the time he blinked you were gone.

Thanks for Reading!!

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animeyanderelover · 4 months

Note

Can I have headcanons with pregnant reader, please? With Alucard and Captain from Hellsing, Gojo and Sukuna from JJK, Meruem from HxH, Sawada Tsunayoshi and Byakuran from KHR.

I already did Pregnancy Hc's with Gojo before.

Tw: Yandere themes, possessive behavior, obsession, delusional mindset, stalking, clinginess, isolation, forced pregnancy, inhuman pregnancy, cannibalism, afab reader, birth

Tags: @jamayah @chxxz @leveyani @cynniical @shenryu-sama

Pregnancy Hc's

Meruem

👑Meruem's circumstances of birth were rather unique, even for a Chimera Ant. Born prematurely by forcing himself out of the amniotic sac, he already had everything needed to conquer his new territory. He truly is the born king with his powers and the frightening intellect to match that as he possesses a high learning ability and continues even today to only grow stronger with each passing day. He is the King and he was born with the mindset of one, indeed the perfect offspring his mother had hoped him to be. As much as he sees himself as the superior being who stands above everyone else, nature has a force even he can't control as his biology eventually catches up to him. As a King he has a duty to breed and it is an instinct deeply woved within his DNA. It is this primal need that calls out to him when he names you as his mate, as unfitting as someone like Pouf sees you. What could you possibly give the King after all, a mere servant in the Royal Palace who Meruem spared for reason now obvious? There is some consideration Meruem gives you though as he informs you of the nature of his kind and that both of you have a duty to fulfill.

👑The news of your pregnancy are of no surprise to the handful of people allowed to be even within vicinity of you. Meruem's mood has been highly sexual since a while now, his tail always flicking around as soon as he can sense you and most of his time spent with you in the private chambers. All Royal Guards sense the tiny presence within you and instantly their duty to guard you heightens. Even Shaiapouf, the one who dislikes you the most, finds himself acting on his instincts to protect the next heir. The situation is rather unique again though as everyone wonders how this will play out. You are a mere human whilst Meruem is biological perfection. His own birth was nothing like what a regular human pregnancy would have looked like and there is some tension as no one can exactly help themselves from wondering what would happen if the fetus would have a similar development as he had. The primary medic assigned to you is Pitou with their Nen-ability but as they are still a Chimera Ant, Meruem sends for a human doctor who has lots of experience with human pregnancy. Their company will be needed for as long as it takes and if they want to leave alive, they better be useful.

👑Meruem learns quickly from the information the doctor shakily tells him, memorising and understanding the human anatomy within only a little time as he also reads books on it. There is an undeniable fascination when he approaches you after everything has been learned, clearly sensing the presence you carry inside of you. He has always been someone who has preferred you within sight to satiate his possessive desires but his need to have you with him increases now that you carry his offspring. There are only few inches of distance between the two of you as you have to accompany him wherever he goes. His tail likes to be wrapped around your form as it eases his mind and you remember clearly how he has used the very same tail to behead others as if it were nothing which always puts your nerves a bit on edge when you feel it around your body. Only Komugi is allowed to spend time with you next to the Royal Guards as her presence has always eased your mind a bit as she is the only human you know of. She can soothe your mind in ways Meruem can't as she expresses her congratulations when she finds out whilst still reassuring you when you tell her about your worries.

👑Time tells quickly that whilst there is a bigger resemblance to a human pregnancy as you nurture his heir in your womb, his genes are still having a visible effect in the development of the baby. It grows rather fast as everyone of the Royal Guards and the King can tell that the presence grows stronger and larger every day. It is rather demanding on your body as the little one demands lots of nutrition and energy which increases your hunger significantly. You feel ravenous nearly all of the time as Meruem sees it through that you receive whatever you are craving to ensure that your body remains strong and healthy enough to care for his offpsring as well as for yourself. Even human flesh is served to you, the only time where you find yourself hesitating, shaking your head as you push the plate away. It isn't hard to see through you though. You are clearly desiring to taste the bloody, raw flesh of your own kind yet your consciousness holds you back. You're rather stubborn as he tries to reason with you that it is the desire of the offspring urging you to feed on your own kind and that you need the nutrition which ultimately leads him to force you to devour the human flesh.

👑Your consciousness struggles as you are fed with human flesh throughout the pregnancy as the Royal Guards especially hunt down those with Nen to ensure that Meruem's heir will consume their abilities and their strength to be born strong. Your body changes fast and only a few months after conceiving, your stomach is already heavy and swollen with a child. Meruem is rather enthralled with the transformation your body has gone through, even if your constant fatigue and tiredness have made him even more protective of you. He hasn't left you out of his sight for more than a few minutes since the start of your pregnancy and then you are normally always surrounded by two of the Royal Guards, Pitou always with you as their King has given them the duty to cater to your health and needs. Other Chimera Ants within the palace are vaguely aware that the King will have a new heir but none of them have ever seen you or else they wouldn't be alive anymore. Pitou and Komugi are the only ones next to the traumatised human doctor who are even allowed to touch your stomach and that only when Meruem allows it. Otherwise his hands are the only ones running fascinated over your bulge.

👑Anyone who dares to step too close to you without his permission instantly receives a hit with his tail. The fetus already has a strong Nen presence within you and even Pouf praises you for managing to exceed his expectations for what he thought he would be capable to carry, although his rude mouth earns him a punishment from Meruem who is highly displeased with his unwarranted remark. Despite your huge fear that the baby would destroy you from the inside like Meruem did with his mother, its movements are surprisingly gentle most of the time and Meruem reveals to you that the fetus is quite in tune with your feelings and even seems to possess an awareness of its own strength and your fragile body. You enter your labor roughly 5 months after conceiving but everyone has been expecting that much already, especially since the fetus seemed to signal it through its Nen and Meruem is with you as he wants to witness the birth of his heir, the swishing of his tail a warning to the human doctor to make no mistake as them and Pitou assist you. The son you birth him fills him with pride, a fascinating mix of your hair and eyes yet with the same green exoskeleton he has.

Alucard

🩸Alucard is a man you have only ever known as a creature of darkness and fear, as a monster that hoards you and keeps you for his own desires. There is no escape from the man in red, his eyes always following you wherever you go even if you might not see him anywhere around you. There are no secrets you can keep, no emotions you could hide from him as those glowing eyes seem to be able to look into the deepest bottom of your soul that even you do not know about. That is why he knows about the tiny life inside of you before it even has a heartbeat of its own. A little blop that doesn't even have a shape yet but it is this tiny thing that shakes him to his core. His mind drifts away to a place so far away that it may as well be found in a different world, red eyes glowing as he reminisces about something only he knows about. You do not know what it is he is seeing but for the first time you see something very vulnerable in his hazy orbs as he stares through you. When you decide to hesitantly call out his name, his eyes regain their focus and zoom in on your stomach. You still don't understand, not until he suddenly kneels down in front of you and presses his forehead against it.

🩸He withdraws himself from everything for a while as he doesn't reveal to even Integra what has happened. Seras with her vampire abilities catches on faster but when Alucard gives her a silent look, she understands and keeps quiet about it until he himself decides to inform his master. There is only him and you for a few weeks where he has gone oddly silent, although not in a way that would make you uncomfortable. Something has changed since the day he has found out about your pregnancy. You have seen this a few times before, a raw vulnerability he has only ever shown around you. But never before have you seen it to this extent before as there is a newfound level of intimacy the vampire seeks out. It is one that threatens to suffocate you due to its sheer rawness and scratches at your heart as you get to see a different side to him. Reverence is in every gentle touch of his and every smoldering gaze he gives you, his eyes glowing with emotions you have rarely seen in him before. No longer does he remind you of the monster with the blood red eyes. Instead there is a profound grief you notice around him and you wonder how long he has been carrying such weight all by himself.

🩸You awake one night and notice that his body is on top of yours, his head resting against your belly and his arms wrapped around you. When you attempt to move his grip tightens lightly and his voice instead asks of you to lay with him for a bit longer. You try to ignore your heart swelling with new feelings as you remind him that he can do this anytime. He's not moving though as he instead utters that this moment is special. When you question him what makes this moment special, he lifts his head to look at you. His eyes are gleaming with so many emotions that you nearly choke, his voice barely above a whisper yet brimming with adoration as he reveals that he heard the first few beats of its heart and wishes to listen to the new melody for a while longer. Tears start trailing down your face before you even notice it, the first tears you have ever spilled for him and not yourself as you lay back down and allow him to listen to the heartbeat of his baby, your own heart aching for reasons you don't even understand yourself. He feels frightened from that day on if you aren't around him, the warmth of your skin and the sound of two heartbeats proving a security he craves for and needs to go on.

🩸He needs weeks before he finally appears in front of Integra again and finally informs her about why he disappeared for a while, his hands keeping your body protectively close to his own. The woman looks a tad bit surprised as she glances at you but she doesn't dwell on it too long as she congratulates him. Still, she remains focused on her work as she asks Alucard what his plans are as she can certainly relieve him from some of his duties but that he is still their trump card. You notice the way his grip tightens carefully, his eyes looking at your smaller frame and you see the hidden unease he feels on the inside but he has sworn loyalty to Integra so he reassures her that he will still follow her call if she needs him. The young woman has a rather sharp mind herself as she notices the tinge of anxiety the vampire feels as she in return assures him that she will see it through that you will receive proper medical assistance the moment your water breaks. Another beat of silence follows as Alucard hesitates with the thought of letting anyone that close to you but he doesn't let his overprotective worries override his rationality and gives her a nod, expressing his gratitude for her help.

🩸His emotions are unfiltered and his vulerability raw and sincere as he spends the following months not wanting to leave your side. The few missions he has to go on pain him to his core even as Seras eagerly volunteers to remain by your side, his soul itching for your closeness and for the presence of his child as every moment agonises and torments him and the restless agitation is only quenched the moment he has you back in his arms and senses that both of you are healthy. Most of the time he hoards you for himself, especially once your stomach starts swelling with the new hope you are nurturing in your womb. Alucard finds himself drawn to your growing belly, every sound of the baby's heartbeat and every fluttering movement mending cracks that have broken his soul as a feeling of fulfillment washes over him that he hasn't felt in centuries. When you start craving for blood, he provides it for you without hesitation and even forces it down your lips by feeding it to you himself. Your tears of guilt and disgust move his heart as he understands that you do not wish to be like him. His desire for this child is stronger than his guilt though. He wants it to be born.

🩸You have seen the human behind the monster who is still a cruel and possessive man willing to burn down cities if anything should attempt to rip his baby and you away from him but who is beyond everything broken in his own rights. When your water breaks, Alucard never leaves your side and you even want him to be there with you. His touches are gentle and his words soothe you through your pain. Red eyes never leave the medics helping you, observing them closely as he is prepared to rip them apart if they should make even the tiniest mistake. He's not losing you and the baby. The first bellow of the little girl born the moment the sun rises has his dead heart trembling with emotions he thought had died with his human side. The medics leave the moment she is cleaned to give him the privacy he needs as red and intense eyes scare them away. You insist that he should hold her first and the moment he holds her tiny form in his arms, he sees the second chance he has been given. Red eyes are unable to look away from the little life as he vows to never let either of you go. She looks just like you, like a human, and he feels relief about that. He wouldn't want her to look like him. Like a monster.

Captain

🐺The Captain is a werewolf, a literal beast that brutally follows orders of the Major. He is frightening, never speaks a word and always remains stoic and expressionless yet he has made it obvious that no one is to touch you. For reasons even the Major is unsure of, Captain has chosen you as his mate and whilst he never vocally expresses it, his possessiveness and territorial claim he has stacked on you are as obvious as it gets though as soldiers who have gotten too close to you were brutally torn apart, their flesh consumed and their bones crushed as you could only watch in silent horror. Maybe it is in his nature as a werewolf that feels the urge to breed with his mate and the Major, morbidly interested in this relationship, only encourages it all when he notices the sexual aggression Captain starts showing. Like a piece of meat you are thrown towards the starved wolf as The Major follows the development curiously. Your pregnancy is an outcome he was hoping for and he knows because his bodyguard refuses to leave your side very soon as the natural instinct to guard and protect only spikes now that he senses that you carry his offspring.

🐺The Major knows that there is no realistic chance that Captain would ever let his mate or the baby be subjected to a study that would document the development the pregnancy and that would research how a hybrid child would turn out. He has already before been very protective to the point of murdering everyone who got simply too close and when the Major suggests the idea lightly to him simply to test his reaction, Captain tears the desk apart and lets out a ferocious growl, red eyes promising murder. The only thing he seems to accept from his leader is the offer for some medical assistance during birth, although the Major fully expects that he might kill them whilst they try to do their job. You have already been kept away from other people before you were expecting a child from him, partially because you have grown terrified to witness the same sight of bloody bodies devoured by him in his possessive rage. Now that you are pregnant though with his pup, Captain has grown even more aggressive as everyone is seen as a threat to you and the little life growing inside of you. You do not leave the room when he has to go and even if the room wouldn't be locked, you doubt you would leave.

🐺They eventually know about the news that Captain's captive is pregnant with his child but none of them dare to speak up. Only one fool has tentatively congratulated him on his incoming parenthood. All who were witness to it saw the way his pupils narrowed to slits before suddenly the man's head was gone. They don't even mention you in any way, shape or form as all know that he would kill them the moment he would find out. The only one who can actually get away with it is the Major and that only because Captain is more or less loyal to him, although his loyalty has started to split ever since he discovered you and chose you as his mate. When there isn't anything to do, the werewolf spends all of his time with you. His eyes never leave you once he is with you, always following your every move. You have long gotten used to the silence that surrounds you as he has never spoken to you before which has made you already countless times wonder if he perhaps can't speak at all. His presence is more suffocating now than ever before though. He doesn't let you out of his sight at all, not even when you wish to go to the toilet. You've stopped locking the door to the bathroom the first time he broke it.

🐺The pregnancy doesn't seem to differ much from what a normal human pregnancy would look like as you know that Captain is no regular human. It all seems so normal, much to the boredom of the Major, as months pass and your belly slowly develops into a bump. The sight of your bump seems to spark excitement and possessive thrill within the werewolf though as it is a sign of your body showing him that he claimed and marked you as his own. He always wants you to show him your growing bump, completely ignoring your privacy as he has torn multiple shirts apart in growling frustration when you weren't in the mood to let yourself be touched by him. He doesn't understand your resistance against him. You are his. The baby is his. He can do what he wants with you. As frightening as he is, you know that you have seen worse from him and you know that he is holding himself back a bit more to spare you from stress that could harm the baby inside of you. The bigger you grow, the less time he spends away from you. The Major tolerates it though as he knows that the Captain would probably even go against his orders if he were to tell him to spend more than an hour away from you.

🐺It is at the end of your second trimester that something interesting happens that rouses the Major's intrigue. Captain starts hunting down humans and even kills a few of the most disposable soldiers and drags them to the room where he keeps you. Recently you have started feeling an overwhelming hunger for flesh, human flesh. You try to stop yourself from indulging in that sudden craving but Captain realises the need of the growing pup who is in its final phase of growth and requires more nutrition and food for the energy your body will need to nurture it properly. You scream, you cry and you even feel like vomiting when the werewolf forces your jaw open and makes you swallow the flesh of the corpses he brought with him, some soldiers you even knew briefly. The hunger for humans only increases as the final growth spurt of the fetus takes a toll on your body, the flesh he makes you consume giving the baby what it needs and feeling its strong kicks beneath your swollen skin only pushes him to feed you human flesh everyday. The final weeks before your due date, Captain takes a complete break from his duties as he is unable to focus on anything else than you and his pup.

🐺Your water breaks 2 weeks too early but you are quite relieved when the liquid stains your legs. Not only does it mean that he won't force your jaw open anymore to shove human flesh down your throat but you also look already more like someone who is overdue due to the growth of the baby ever since it has been feasting on human flesh. The birth is messy, frightening and terrible. The moment contractions start hitting you seriously, Captain refuses to leave your side and when one medic dares to instruct him to leave the room, their intestines go flying. Animalistic growls echo through the room as he stands possessively in front of you and glowers at the frightened medics. It is only when he senses that his child is about to be born that he finally allows them to step over the corpse of their co-worker and do their job as he silently takes care of you to encourage you to keep going. As soon as his son is born and starts wailing, he instantly stands in front of the medic who hands him his child before everyone rushes out of the room, rightfully frightened for their lives. Captain looks only proud and satisfied though as he puts his pup on your chest, wanting to see you caring for his newborn.

Ryomen Sukuna

🗾There is quite possibly nothing more terrifying than being the victim to Sukuna's obsession, although the King of Curses likes to remind you that you should feel honored that he bothers with you to begin with. He could have devoured and killed you by now so you'd do best to realise your position and stop your whining. You will not be set free until he decides to end your pathetic life himself, you surely don't expect him to let you go after all if he should ever lose interest in you. He's not a sentimental fool after all so perhaps you should try harder to entertain him. A child is the least thing he has considered for himself, the only experience he has with such tiny and annoying little things are the ones where he relishes in their final screams before dining on their young flesh. There is no denying what he is sensing though as he picks up the tiny source of energy nestled within your womb. It is rather rare for a curse and a human to create such a thing together and he has lived long enough to know that in the few rare incidents that it has happened, an abortion was always the result. With that thought in mind, he decides initially to not even bother to inform you about it as he continues treating you as usual.

🗾The little thing is persistent though as if to prove him wrong and even if he knows that it barely has a consciousness of its own, he has to admire it for its strength. He would expect nothing less from a spawn of his. It is a greedy little thing that drains you of your vitality and energy even from its earliest stages and it is then that Sukuna acknowledges its existence and informs you of what is going on as even you have taken notice of it. How could you not, when it literally claims everything your body has to offer for its own growth? There is horror that you feel to the marrow of your bones as he tells you that you carry his offspring, your throat closed as only broken whimpers leave your lips. You go down on your knees, your hands grasping the material of his clothes as teary eyes look at him with a pleading looks that your mouth is unable to vocalise. What are you even hoping for? Two of his hands grasp the sides of your face as a look of false pity crosses his face as another hand pats your head half-heartedly. He must say that the fighting spirit of the thing inside of you has managed to impress him. He's rather curious to see if it can manage to survive. Seems like you'll get the honor of bearing his heir.

🗾Uraume is the only other living person who is let in on your pregnancy and swears to protect you and his heir with their life. Sukuna almost laughs at the implication that there would ever be a scenario where someone would get that close to you in the first place. There are immediately humans and curses piling up at your feet to provide you with cursed energy and nutritions your puny human food could never give. If you really manage the impressive feat of bearing him a child, he expects it to be a worthy heir of his. Your own disgust and fright as he demands you to devour all the corpses he has brought you tire him. The little thing is already consuming your own reserves and weakens you even more than you were to begin with. He has no patience for your tantrum right now. Two of his hands seize your shoulders and hold you in place, the recent weight loss you have suffered from allowing him to feel your bones even if he applies only minimal pressure. The other two hands pry your mouth open and shove the flesh of dismembered bodies down your throat, again and again. You wish to throw it all up yet to your horror your body digests it all.

🗾The repeat of this procedure only solidifies in your mind his cruel nature, Uraume on the other hand comments that Sukuna must really hold a deep-rooted affection for you. If you were anyone else and if the child were not his and yours, they are sure the King of Curses wouldn't be as patient to forcefeed you multiple times a day to keep up with the needs of the growing life inside of you. He wants the baby to be born, doesn't he? Neither you nor the fetus disappoint him as his efforts aren't wasted when your stomach starts rounding out with the growing life inside of you. He must say, he is rather pleased with you so far as you manage to achieve something no one before you has ever done before. You are physically and mentally already drained, your body exhausted from bearing a child that is half human and half curse and your mind broken with the knowledge that he has taken the last thing from you you thought he could never take from you. Whenever he sees that look in your eyes though when his gaze meets yours, he gleefully reminds you that it was your body who accepted his seed and that it is your body that continues to nurture his heir. It is your own body who betrayed you.

🗾There are still things he has to do, sometimes just because he feels rather bored at the moment in which case he knows that Uraume will keep you safe if anything should happen. There is a subtle shift in his behavior though as you grow heavier with his child, their frequent and strong kicks only another sign that you really seem to be a special human. He chose wisely. He may never admit that to you but his touches are more gentle as his fingers caress your skin and brush against your bump. There is more time he spends with you, although he avoids appearing even remotely clingy. Still, it is time he chooses to spend willingly to you as there are less insults and taunts when he is with you as there is instead a silence he doesn't want to fill with compliments but you take the awkward tension. Uraume provides you with new clothes to accommodate your ever-growing belly but they are never allowed to let you in on the fact that it is Sukuna who chose them for you. In fact it is often per Sukuna's orders that Uraume gathers and collects everything he believes you need as well as the baby as soon as it is born. He can't have you thinking that he is going soft after all.

🗾As much as you despise Sukuna, there is an undeniable feeling of betrayal when you are in the middle of labor and he isn't with you. Only Uraume is there to guide you and offer passive encouragement as they tell you what you have to do. What were you even expecting? He doesn't care about you and he won't care for the child either. It is a long and taxing process as you struggle to give birth to the child. You curse its existence, you curse Sukuna and you especially curse your own treacherous heart for having considered for even one second that he would be there for you during birth. It is in the final phase of your labor that you just want to give up, the pain of pushing a child out of you indescribable and your vision blackening. That is when he suddenly appears, grabbing your sweaty palm and squeezing it reassuringly as he reminds you to breathe, even entertaining you as he notes that you want the little brat as much out of you as he wants. He's there when his son is finally born and holds him first, two of his hands hoisting the infant close to his face as he observes the child before you witness him breaking out in a genuinely proud smile as he looks at you and thanks you for bearing him a strong heir.

Sawada Tsunayoshi

🔥Life with Vongola Decimo is for the most part rather blissful and normal, if you ignore the heavy protection that is placed upon you. Surely it isn't always pleasant to have one of his guards always accompanying you but Tsunayoshi hopes you understand that his position as the head of the Italian Mafia makes you an easy target. It is a small sacrifice for your safety, even if you may not see it as he does. Children have never been a topic that has been heavily discussed between the two of you, although as the years fly a few people in his closer circle start joking about it. He must admit that he has considered it a few times whenever someone brought the idea up but he always finds himself hesitating. Tsunayoshi is the Vongola Decimo after all and he wouldn't want a child of his to be pressured by expectations that would undoubtedly come from somewhere as he would be their father. The decision of a baby would be something he would discuss with you to begin with since you would be the one who has to carry the baby and to give birth to it. That means that you get to decide if you want a biological child with him or not, meaning that the pregnancy is something both of you want.

🔥There have already been made certain preparations even before it was confirmed that you are expecting as Tsunayoshi has been quite open with his friends about the mutual decision that both of you have made. Anticipation is thick as everyone is just waiting for you two to announce it when it happens and when that finally happens, they throw a small party to celebrate the news. Obviously there is no alcohol for you involved. Everyone swarms around you on that day excitedly and it is up to Tsuna to remind them to give you a little bit of space to breathe. The news only stay within his closest circle of friends and allies though, even if he knows that eventually rumors will spread through the entire Vongola. That'll have to wait though as he'd like to focus for now on preparing everything for the arrival of the baby and especially to be there for you as the next few months will probably bring the one or other challenge with it. Not one to neglect his duties as the Vongola Decimo, Tsunayoshi sees it still through that he makes more time for you as he wants to be as involved as he can with your pregnancy and with the child as soon as it is born. It's not like you are ever lonely if he has work to do.

🔥There is usually always at least one of his guardians with him, mostly it varies between Gokudera. Yamamoto and Ryohei. Gokudera is fiercely loyal and protective over you now that you're expecting Tsunayoshi's child, Ryohei is always cheering you on when he notices that you're feeling down and Yamamoto is the calmest one who just listens to you and your worries. Hibari keeps an eye on you every once in a while too but he rarely chats with you, strictly focused on his task. Haru and Kyoko also often drop by to visit and Haru always beings some cake with her to enjoy together. She does now that there is a loose diet you are on to ensure the health of you and the baby but she tells you that if you tell no one about it, no one will find out anyways. You do not find it in your heart to tell her that Tsunayoshi knows about her smuggling cake with her but he seems to be rather amused as he is quite familiar with the antics of his old friend. In fact he sometimes asks if you could spare him some of the cake Haru brings with her which is no problem since Haru always brings so much with her that there is always some leftover. Even if you ask her to bring a little less, she ends up ignoring it anyways.

🔥The only people outside of his Guardians and friends who find out about the pregnancy are a few doctors he has chosen to monitor your pregnancy. Otherwise news of your pregnancy are strictly forbidden to be leaked to outsiders. Tsunayoshi isn't violent as a Mafioso but that has never been enough to stop conflict arising between the Vongola and other groups during times and he has met organizations who would be ruthless enough to even try to get their hands on you, especially now that you are more vulnerable than ever before. The security is tighter than it normally is and whilst you are still allowed to leave the building and go outside, which he partially even encourages since you need some exercise, you are never left alone. One of his Guardians is always accompanying you but he lets you choose which one you want to take with you, although when he finally has some time on his hands he takes it upon himself to go out with you. His parents and even Reborn visit him eventually when they have time as he has made sure to inform them about the good news as well. Reborn even volunteers to train Tsuna's child as soon as it is old enough as well and Tsuna, having war flashbacks, can only laugh.

🔥There are almost all the time the hands of someone on your stomach when you start showing, especially once the baby starts kicking. Tsunayoshi is alright with it though as he knows that everyone will be careful to not harm you and the baby. Haru is gushing over the fetus and introduces herself as their auntie and Ryohei accepts also quite eagerly your offer of feeling the baby kick and compliments the little one on being already a boxer. Tsunayoshi isn't touching your stomach as much as some of his other friends, mainly because he thinks that you must be quite exhausted from having multiple people talking to your stomach and touching it, although he still caresses your belly gingerly when both of you are alone. Both of you have already talked about the future of the baby and Tsuna is firm in his decision to not pressure his child into anything. He is aware that many might think that he would want his kid to take over his position when they are old enough but he wants to give his child the freedom to choose what they want to be later on in their life. He's sometimes actually worried that his child might feel like they have no choice but become the next head if they get older.

🔥He does his best to clear all business when the last month lurks around the corner and everyone else does their hardest to help him with that. Once again there is anticipation and excitement as you get closer to your due date. Tsunayoshi can't deny that the nervousness is there but he feels still fairly confident. After all months of preparation have all been for the moment that could happen every day now. When your water breaks and you experience your labor, everyone just waits in front of the medical room where the doctors that have been assissting you throughout your entire pregnancy now help you in the final act of delivering the baby. Tsunayoshi is the only one who is with you in the room and he is sure that if he would still be as faint-heared as he used to be when he was younger, he would have collapsed pretty early on as he watches everything unfolding. He isn't immune to the wriggly anxiety deep within the depth of his stomach but he hides it rather well as he knows that right know you need him to be there for you. You give birth to a healthy boy after hours of pain and Tsuna is overjoyed, although a old nervousness resurfaces as he's almost too anxious to hold him at first.

Byakuran

🍬My, this is unexpected. A pregnancy is not what Byakuran had in store for you as he is told of this little accident that has happened. Now that he thinks about it, he should have guessed what was going on as he has taken notice of some interesting symptoms for a while now but instead chose to ignore them. He could have figured that out by himself and is actually sulking a bit that you knew before he did because normally it is always the other way around. After he has gotten over his sullen mood though, he quickly focus on the situation at hand. Neither of you planned for this to happen and he asks you jokingly if you forgot to take your pills on purpose, although the deterred look on your face quickly tells him that you did not intend for this to happen either. Now, how should he handle this unexpected surprise? Byakuran has never before given a child any serious thought. He isn't even sure if he really wanted one before. Initially he thinks about keeping it merely to torment you a bit as he can sense that you are not overly thrilled about the discovery. The more he thinks about it though, the more he finds himseld curious about how that embryo might turn out.

🍬So he decides to view it as a surprise that he will look forward to in a few months time. Your reaction is as obvious as it can get, the anger and dread visible yet whenever you open your mouth, he puts a finger over your lips to hush you with that cheerful grin of his you know is just a facade to hide his ruthlessness. Let's not spoil the surprise by being a party pooper, alright? A surprise is something that should have you anticipating after all. Whilst Byakuran is not necessarily eager to share the news with the Six Funeral Wreaths, much to his dismay it isn't something that can be avoided. They have always been involved one way or another and he does need someone to look after you when he has to take care of something involving his plans. There is a clear tinge of annoyance in his smile though as they are informed and show different reactions. Zakuro looks as bored as always as he doesn't really care. Bluebell, who has never been able to understand what Byakuran sees in you to begin with, probably likes you even less now. Deisy acts as fearful as always as he looks at you nervously. Kikyo is the only one who properly congratulates Byakuran and promises to keep an eye on you.

🍬His intelligence is outstanding yet pregnancy is not something Byakuran can admit to know overly much about besides the basics everyone seems to know. He hires a small team of doctors and nurses to observe your pregnancy and the health of you and your little one but otherwise he actually doesn't make an effort to inform himself more about the changes of your body. Why should he? He can observe all of that by inspecting you closely over the coming months and that will be much more interesting than just reading about it on some paper or online. Apparently you hold one more surprise for him though when during an ultrasound it is actually discovered that you are expecting twins. When he hears the news, he actually starts laughing, the sound startling you when you hear it. There is a grin on his face as soon as he has calmed down, his purple eyes focused on your belly before he jabs his index finger into the skin. You really are always full of surprises, aren't you? No wonder he was so utterly fascinated with you when he met you for the first time. If you were worried that he would react negatively, don't. Two surprises are better than one after all.

🍬He couldn't care less for the gender of the twins and since the babies weren't really planned to begin with, he just decides that the gender will be another surprise the moment both of them are born. Byakuran appears almost rather easygoing as he even tells you that you can choose both of their names, interested what you'll come up with. In fact, sometimes you always feel like he is too easygoing and isn't focusing enough on the stuff that you will need the moment the babies are born. It almost appears like Kikyo is more invested than he is because it is the Cloud Mare Ring holder who seeks you out and presents you with different choices of cribs and furnitures he has chosen for the baby and would like your opinion on. That is how you find yourself willingly spending time with the male as both of you share the same interest as of now. When Byakuran finds out though, he is not happy. Despite his cheerful disposition he is rather possessive after all and the frequent meetings between Kikyo and you rouse his jealousy. He interferes both of you with a lopsided grin and a cold look in his eyes before his gaze lands on the files. He lifts them up and studies them before he glances at you.

🍬From that day on he pours a bit more effort into it as he does his own research, although you are still left to decide what you want. He merely just doesn't want you to spend so much time and get too close to Kikyo. There are some really weird cravings you experience as months pass and whilst Byakuran is gracious enough to provide you with the food you want, he can't stop himself from making fun of the weird combinations you come up with. Sometimes out of pure fun he even serves you a questionable combination of food and wants you to try. You've consumed some weird stuff already so you might like this as well. Other times he just feeds you the confectionary he is always consuming throughout the day and he does hope that the twins will share his sweet tooth or else he would be slightly disappointed. His presence is often rather grating though, simply because Byakuran loves poking fun at you even as you swell with two of his babies. He pokes your bump to rouse the babies when he wants to feel their movements, he doesn't give you any privacy and sometimes is just a jerk for the sake of being one. Your pregnancy doesn't protect you from his sadistic vein after all.

🍬His possessive nature is quite hypocritical though as he reacts harshly when it is someone else who agitates you to the point of tears during your pregnancy. After all your reactions and flaring emotions, whether they are of negative or positive nature, are solely reserved for his own enjoyment. There is a reason why you are as isolated as you are after all. Byakuran chooses to wait outside the maternity room when your water breaks and you enter your labor. He doesn't appear overly nervous as he sits there and wait. It takes the eye of someone who knows him better to notice the signs. The bag of sweets he has brought with him remain largely untouched throughout the hours, your screams and howls for once actually bringing him an unpleasant and slimy dread he feels in his stomach, ruining every chance of him enjoying the confectionary. When the shrill sounds of two screams finally echo through the air, he does feel his body jerking slightly forward. An amused chuckle escapes him when he finally enters and sees the babies for the first time. Fraternal twins, a boy and a girl each with a shock of white hair on their heads and purple eyes that make it glaringly obvious to whom they belong.

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