#moved to heaving SOBS by child of mine

[uptownhags]

sorry to everyone who is bored or disappointed by LM's new work or "obsession" (lmao) with motherhood, but i am so thrilled to see she's expecting again?!?

[sophiria]

are you mine?

pairing: MSBY!Atsumu x fem!Reader cw: 18+, explicit sexual content, soft yanderish Atsumu, mentions of babytrapping, manipulative thoughts words: just a bit over 800

"Yer too much on that phone this morning," Atsumu said, nibbling at your earlobe while thrusting languidly inside you, his chest pressing against your back. "Ya should focus more on the moment."

You placed the smartphone on the nightstand. "I have to be available for the university project—ahh!" You gasped as Atsumu snapped his hips faster, holding your leg from under the knee. "Fuck—Atsumu, please."

He tilted your body slightly, and his free hand went to your clit. "What is it?" Atsumu half-whispered in your ear as he softly teased your sweet spot with his fingers. "Speak up, baby. I want to hear ya."

Heat spread under your skin as your clit throbbed under his touch. "Atsumu, I—I need to come," you breathed out, and your body shuddered as his cock hit that spot inside you. "God, please—I need it."

Atsumu began drawing circles on your clit while pounding into you, and a choked sob left your lips as your walls fluttered around his cock. He groaned as your cunt squeezed him, and his rhythm turned erratic as he chased his climax. "Fuck, I'm gonna come inside ya baby," he panted, his hot breath on your ear. "Yer clenching around me so tight—fuck!" His hips stuttered, and his thighs tensed before he spilled himself inside you. "Ah—fuck—baby." 

You moaned at the sensation of his warm cum filling you up, and shaky breaths left his lips as your pussy milked every last drop of his seed.

Atsumu wrapped his arms around your waist, snuggling you up to him. "Ya never let me wear a condom with ya," he said, a playful edge in his tone as he tried to even out his breathing. "Are ya tryin' to babytrap me?"

You let out a small laugh. "You know I'm on birth control," you reminded Atsumu. "You get tested often, and we're exclusive, so why not indulge in the thrill just a bit?"

He hummed at your words and then went quiet. Indeed, Atsumu thought, why not indulge...

"You should come to see me play," Atsumu said after a few minutes of silence. "Ya haven't done that ever since we started sleepin' together."

You tilted your head and upper body toward your lover. "That's because I prefer watching basketball," you told him half-jokingly. "But I will stop by sometimes, I promise."

Atsumu stared at you. "But ya prefer this volleyball player to any other sports player, right?" he asked you rhetorically, his gaze turning unreadable. "I can be very competitive, ya know that."

You lightly tapped his cheek. "Exclusive means I only sleep with you, Atsumu. So yes, of course I'm choosing you over them."

He smiled at your words, and you returned to your previous position, eager to relax before getting ready for the day ahead.

Atsumu nuzzled the crown of your head, then his eyes narrowed as he started thinking. For how long was he going to be your dirty little secret? Not that he minded not having the paparazzi on his tail, but the arrangement you two had won't do for him much longer. No, and he had to find a way to keep you for himself.

"Are ya trying to baby-trap me?"

His eyes widened. Of course, having a baby with him would guarantee your presence in his life...

But it would be a bit of a scandal, wouldn't it?

Atsumu could already picture what they'd write about the MSBY's star setter having a child out of wedlock with a college student, not to mention that once your name got out, they'd quickly find out that you also happen to be the Basketball Association's president's daughter and that a friend of your family just so happens to be a conglomerate heir and an NBA star. And your scandalous behavior would no doubt spell trouble for the people in your circle. You could be thrown to the wolves...

Atsumu heaved a sigh, but then the corners of his lips upturned in a smirk. He'd be there, taking care of you and your child. He'd move you into his apartment and probably ask you to marry him sometime later on. And maybe he'll listen to Kita-san and buy a farm somewhere in the prefecture...

"Atsumu," your teasing voice pulled him out of his reverie. "You're still inside me."

He placed a hand under your chin, angling your face towards his. "I like to be inside ya after sex," he murmured, brushing his lips against yours. "Makes me feel warm and sated."

Your lips parted against his, and Atsumu caught your mouth in a slow yet hungry kiss. One of his hands went to your stomach, and he rested his palm on your tummy. You sighed into his mouth and then turned your body towards him to wrap your arms around his neck. He smiled into the kiss, and his eyes glinted knowingly as he peered at you through a half-lidded gaze.

Yes, Atsumu thought, he'll take care of you, and you will not need anyone else but him.

[angelwings-crossbowstrings]

Blood Ties Chapter 34

Series Masterlist

Warnings: Postpartum depression; allusions to child abuse; perceived child abuse - read with care

A/N: I am so sorry it has taken me this long! The move has really done a number on my mental health and I've been struggling to write anything substantial. I've taken some serious liberties with Georgia weather. If you noticed, no you didn't. Lol I don't hate Rick. His mindset isn't the greatest at this point. We know that. Just making sure everyone is aware that I love our deputy. Post partum depression is a real thing and it sucks. This chapter has some really angsty, dark tones, and should be read with care, especially toward the end (beginning at “Oh,hey.” She greeted, patting the ground next to her). I did lots of research and sadly, what transpires is a real thing that people do for reasons that aren't necessary. Please try to give Carol and reader some grace given the circumstances. But if you're sensitive to anything dealing with making a child uncomfortable, you might want to skip this. It gets a little heavy. I would be happy to give you a summary of what is happening if you would rather skip the last few paragraphs (see above where to stop reading). Just message me.

I love you all! Thank you for your patience with me.

gif is not mine - from google

You weren’t sure when it happened, when the switch flipped or the dial turned. All you knew is that every single time your daughter cried, you wanted to break down and sob with her. When you held her to your breast, you couldn’t look at her. You left her with Lori or Carol more and more, the looks they gave you annoyingly understanding. When you would hand her off to Daryl and walk away, you couldn’t bear to see that expression of befuddled dismalness. 

“Postpartum depression.” Carol finally said one bitterly cold morning. She was changing Birdie with swift movements, eager to shield her from the drafty atmosphere of the warehouse. 

You had your back to her—your face in your hands—while you silently cried, two small bottles of breast milk sitting at your feet, still attached to the manual pumps. Sniffling, you glanced over your shoulder just as she placed the shifting blanketed bundle against her shoulder. “I hate my baby, Carol.” You whimpered. “That’s more than depression.”

The silver-haired lady shook her head. “Honey, I promise you don’t hate her.” 

“I don’t want anything to do with her.” You bit back with more vexation than you had intended. “I can’t stand it when she cries. I just want Daryl to keep her away from me.” When she tilted her lips with that gentle smile, it took all you had not to chuck one of the bottles at her. What was wrong with you? Could she be right? Were you depressed?

“I went through this, sweetheart. It will pass.” When she offered you little Birdie, you reeled. “You can’t keep avoiding her.” She was right and you hated it. With a huffing breath, you accepted your daughter, distributing her small weight across your arm for her head to rest in the crook of your elbow. “I have an idea.”

You heaved a sigh, not really interested in whatever it was that Carol was going to suggest. You had to stop taking your frustrations out on the woman. And Lori. And Daryl. And especially little Birdie. She was perfect and you knew in your heart of hearts that you could never truly harbor anything other than unrelenting love for her. Yes. Carol was right. You were definitely depressed. 

“What?” You finally queried. 

“What’re you two doin’ in here?” You heard Daryl’s boots crossing the concrete floor until they stopped just behind you. His lips pressed gently against the crown of your head. “Hey.” You said nothing. So much for not taking things out on your fiancé. 

“Daryl, right on time.” Carol beamed. 

“For what?” The confusion was evident in his tone.

“Y/N pumped some milk for the baby. It won’t keep unless we get more snow and can store it in the drifts.” She informed. “Why don’t you feed the baby?”

“Feed ‘er? Like with a bottle?”

“Unless you’re miraculously lactating, yes. With a bottle.” There was a hint of jocularity in her tone. You could almost feel his glare without turning. 

“I mean—yeah, okay.” Annoyance momentarily forgotten, you focused on the uncertainty in your partner’s voice. You didn’t miss the tremble. Neither did Carol. 

“You’re gonna be fine, Daryl.” She said encouragingly. 

“Ain’t me m’worried ‘bout.” The archer mumbled as he circled around you. He was hesitant in reaching for Birdie, but took her into his arms immediately when you sat up straighter and shifted her. The movement must have upset your daughter, her little limbs flailing as Daryl positioned her in the bend of his arm. “Ain’t no need for all that fussin’, lil Bird. You’re gonna get fed.” His throat worked as he swallowed. “By somebody. May not be me after I screw this up.”

You rolled your eyes. “You’re better with her than you give yourself credit for.” It came out flat and harsh, your default setting as of late. Still, one look at the expression that decorated Daryl’s features, you found yourself ashamed. “You’re a great father.” You added, softer and with sincerity. 

Daryl held your gaze and, for a moment,—for the first time in a long time—it was uncomfortable. When he nodded and turned to Carol, you were able to exhale, though your stomach remained in knots. 

“Gimme the thing, I guess.” He held out a hand and looked down at his daughter, her little face reddening. Her mouth opened with the slightest squeak. She was two seconds from shrieking. “Keep your diaper on, lil’ girl. It’s comin’.” Daryl gingerly bounced his arm, Birdie’s features smoothing out for a moment, just long enough for Carol to hand over the bottle. 

You found yourself leaning forward, biting your lip as if ready to spring into applause when he accomplished the “impossible” task. When you caught his gaze, both of you looking up at the same time, you sat back and cleared your throat. When had things become so awkward between the two of you? It was almost unbearable. 

“Tilt her up just a little.” Carol instructed. “Touch the nipple to her lip, she’ll—there you go.”

You heard the soft snort of Daryl’s laugh and let your eyes travel from Birdie—now happily suckling away at the bottle—to your fiance. His eyes were soft but excited, sparkling in a way you’d never before seen. His lips were tilted upward, only the slightest fraction. Smiling suited him. You wished he’d do it more often. 

“Told ya that ya wasn’t gonna starve. Slow down. Ain’t no one gonna take it away.” He babbled, scrunching his nose with that smile still adorned. Was he even aware that he was lowering himself to sit cross-legged on the floor in front of you? You didn’t think so. At that moment, no one else existed to him; just a father and his little bird. 

You only felt the smile on your own face when you looked over to find Carol watching not Daryl and Birdie but you. With a soft, knowing expression, she mouthed see? And see, you did. You nodded, tears stinging behind your eyes. The room was silent aside from Birdie’s gulps and breaths and squeaks, and for moment, you thought:

Everything’s gonna be just fine.

If only you knew just how wrong you were.

“We can’t have her crying like this!” Rick was swiping a hand roughly over his tired face, looking haggard. Things between him and Lori were not improving. They seemed to only be worsening. Even Daryl had called out the deputy’s behavior once or twice in the last two weeks. The archer was currently glaring daggers while he rubbed a fingerless-gloved hand over Birdie’s back through the sling that held her to your chest. 

The loss of the warehouse had been tough on everyone, but you and your baby were affected the most. Your mood swings were only growing worse, though less and less toward the little one in your arms and more toward the adults that were only trying to help you. In turn, Birdie remained in a constant state of inconsolable. Hershel had thrown around words like colic and had Daryl dosing out gas drops to the little one but nothing seemed to soothe her.

The cars had run out of gas, as well as Daryl’s bike. The archer had pushed the motorcycle along for a time before he declared that he couldn’t protect Birdie if he was too busy hauling a damn bike. He had hidden it under some brush, easy to be tracked back to later. It was Merle’s bike and you knew what it meant to him. However, Birdie meant more. Much, much more and he would crawl into hell and back for the little girl strapped to your front.

“She’s a baby, man. How else she s’posed to let us know she’s needin’ something?” Daryl snapped, his voice intentionally higher to be heard over your daughter’s cries. 

“Daryl, you know this isn’t safe! She’s gonna bring every walker for miles down on us!” Rick threw out an arm, gesturing broadly. “Or—or the living! You saw what they would do!”

“Ain’t much we can do! She ain’t hungry! She ain’t needin’ changed! She’s just pissed off an’ I ain’t far away from bein’ right there with ‘er!”

“Boys.” Lori admonished, squeezing your shoulder. When had you started to tremble? “All this negative energy isn’t helping.”

“She’s right.” Hershel agreed, adjusting his gloves. “Babies are incredibly intuitive.”

“We just need to find fuel—cars.” Rick sniffed, hands on his hips. “We’re sitting ducks like this.” His eyes met Daryl’s in a heated challenge.

After an intense staredown, it was surprisingly Daryl who backed down first but not without a menacing growl. Turning to place his body between you and Rick, he brushed his bare fingertips over Birdie’s hooded head and then across your jaw. “Y’want me to take ‘er for a bit?”

You shook your head even as the temptation beckoned you to acquiesce. “I don’t think jostling her would help right now.” A single tear trailed down your cheek. As much as it pained you to admit, Rick was right, but how could you coax your baby to stop her noises of discomfort when you had no idea what was ailing her? Daryl used his thumb to swipe away the moisture, his expression equal parts distress and sadness. He clearly felt as helpless as you did.

“S’take a break.” He said suddenly, ushering you to a nearby log. Lori was immediately lowering herself beside you with a great deal of difficulty given her round belly. You could sympathize with her struggle, having been there not so long ago yourself. Her hand came to rest on the back of your head with loving strokes meant to soothe your nerves.

“I think that’s a great idea.” She agreed, offering you a gentle smile when you searched out her gaze. After a moment, you nodded and began to remove Birdie from her sling. Carol appeared with an extra blanket to cover you and shield the baby from the cold as you tried to nurse her. Daryl was hovering, shifting from foot to foot with his fingers digging into the strap of his crossbow. As much as you loved the man, his nervous energy wasn’t helping things in the slightest. 

“Why don’t you go hunting?” You suggested, reveling in the relief when Birdie quickly latched and her wailing ceased. Her little hiccups around enthusiastic gulps remained heartbreaking. The past few days had seen you begin to settle though the fraying of your nerves lingered. At least you were now aware of how much you loved your daughter and that you wouldn’t change a single moment that brought her barreling into your life. 

Daryl quickly shook his head in refusal, his already white-knuckled grip on that strap growing impossibly tighter. “Can’t leave ya here like this.”

You bit back the urge to yell at him, make the demand that he go. He meant well. “Please?” He wrestled with indecision, his expression damn near crumbling before he skillfully schooled it with a sigh.

“Fine.” He huffed at the same time that he took a single step toward you. He seemed to think better of it and turned on a heel while stripping his weapon from his back. “Be back in a hour an’ we can move on.” You knew as well as he did that there was little to no game to satisfy the group’s hunger. He was only trying to placate you. The two of you needed time alone, needed to talk and work through the tension between you. 

With an inward sigh, you watched him disappear into the trees and shushed Birdie when she released your nipple and began to squirm and fuss. 

“So,” Lori began, “am I looking at the future Mrs. Dixon?” Her question caught you off guard, your eyes shooting wide even as you stared straight ahead. Only when she tapped the back of her hand against your arm did you acknowledge her and her request to take Birdie. Passing the baby off, you adjust your clothing and draped the extra blanket over your daughter.

“How did you—”

“He asked my advice.” Lori carefully arranged Birdie against the front of her shoulder, alternating between patting and rubbing the little one’s back. Tiny grunts and squeaks sounded from beneath the blanket, an audible passing of gas following close behind. The experienced mother turned toward where Hershel had sat to rest as well. “Maybe a touch of colic?” There was that word again. 

The older man hummed. “Could be. I’ll fetch the drops.” You felt bad watching him struggle to his feet from the forest floor, but couldn’t be persuaded to do so yourself. You were just too damn tired.

“What is colic?” You asked, your brow drawing inward. It was obviously not a danger to your baby, given Hershel’s lack of serious concern, but if something was hurting her, it was hurting you. The very thought of her pain had tears springing to your eyes.

“It just means that she’s uncomfortable. It might be the lack of protein in your diet. It could be gas. There’s no real explanation. She’s just—not feeling well. It’s nothing to worry about except she won’t be easily soothed for a while.” Her lips thinned into a sad smile. “It’s nothing and a lot all at once.”

“I’ll take her.” Carol offered whilst petting your hair as Lori had just a few moments prior. Extricating Birdie from Lori’s arms, she bounced the infant tenderly against her chest. “Y/N, will you come find me once you’ve finished up here?” Sporting a questioning look, you still nodded and watched her walk away after returning the gesture.

“He asked your advice?” You stared toward the empty space of Carol’s retreat for a moment longer before turning your attention to Lori. This time, her smile was genuine if not cheeky. 

“He did.”

“Hey—Hey, uh, can I ask ya somethin’?” 

She hadn’t really noticed Daryl approaching but that wasn’t surprising. He was a hunter and stealth was something in which he excelled. Lori paused in her stirring and tapped the spoon on the side of the kettle. The beans had yet to even begin to heat over the small fire inside the house, so she had a few minutes to spare.

“Of course.”

Daryl had changed so much over the course of the months he had been with the group, and she had you to thank for such a large part of that. And now, she had little Birdie to thank as well. The man was going to make an excellent father, despite his lack of confidence.Though she knew so little, she was aware he wrestled with unnamed demons, but you were there to help see him through it. He would be just fine. All three of you would.

“I, uh—well—” The archer rubbed at the back of his neck, something she noticed he did when he was uncomfortable. “Ain’t good at any’a this shit, so m’just gonna say it.” Lori raised her eyebrows when he paused to chew intently on the side of his thumb. “Wanna ask Y/N to, y’know—to marry me.” Her first instinct was to cheer, to celebrate his commitment, but thoughts of Rick—of Shane—trampled any immediate joy and ushered in skepticism. “You’re sure?”

Daryl scoffed. “Course m’sure! Lookit what she went through—what she just did for me. Why wouldn’t I wanna make ‘er my wife?” The confusion—the utter exasperation—on his face gave her pause but she continued.

“But do you love her?” She asked. Daryl wiped a hand down his face, ending with running the length of his index finger across his bottom lip. “It’s not a hard question, Daryl. Do you love her?” She didn’t realize—or maybe she did—how difficult it was for the man to admit something that deep to anyone but you. She wasn’t aware that he had said it before, had said it in the van, in the presence of the Greene’s and Carol, but whether or not they had heard was not something he had bothered to care about during that pivotal moment. 

Finally, Daryl sighed, his voice quiet. “I love ‘er. Yeah.”

Lori felt something in her chest release, a strong sense of relief and—if she were being honest—jealousy overwhelming her senses, making it impossible to speak for a moment. Gathering her bearings, she nodded and turned back to the pot, picking up the spoon to begin stirring. “Then you just ask her.” She sniffed, tilting her head just so in order to hide her tears from him. She was happy for you, compellingly so, but there was no denying the sadness that weighed on her own heart. Still, this wasn’t about her. This was about you—her friend. “Don’t rehearse lines or try to make it perfect. You just ask her. On the spot and from the heart.”

She heard the quiet hum from the side. It was the most straightforward form of acceptance toward her answer that she was bound to get from him. As his bootfalls receded into whispers on far away hardwood, she smiled.

Try or not, he was going to make it something that would mean the world to you.

You wiped away a tear and sniffled, consumed with a fresh wave of guilt for how you had been treating him as of late. He was handling your mood swings with grace, never lashing out, even if you did see him bite his tongue on more than one occasion. He had every right. Hormones or not, he deserved better than what you had been giving him.

“Thanks.” You whispered.

“So?”

You sniffled a second time, wiping at both of your eyes. “So what?”

Lori chuckled, her hands on either side of her belly. “Did you say yes?” 

You smiled and shook your head, recalling the moment to the forefront of your mind—hearing his tone, summoning the myriad of emotions you had experienced. It really was a Daryl Dixon proposal and it couldn’t have been more perfect. “I said yes.” You gave an indignant oomf as you were pulled against Lori, her arms squeezing as tightly as they could manage. “Wait, wait, wait.” You laughed, patting her back in an effort to coerce her into releasing her hold. When she let go, you sat back, expression light. “We’re keeping it quiet for now, making it official later.”

“Why?”

You shrugged. “A lot can happen in a short amount of time. He could change his mind.” Especially with these fucking mood changes. 

“You’re right.” She agreed. You shot her a look, almost as if you had been expecting her to disagree with you. “ A lot can change. We don’t know what’s going to happen even in the next few minutes.” She paused. “Who we might lose.” Leaning forward, she cupped your face and pressed a kiss to your forehead. “Think about it.” You studied her for a moment, the sadness and apprehension radiating from your friend and forming a veil over you that was almost smothering. You nodded. “Good. Now go see what Carol wants. I think I need a nap.” She gave you an encouraging smile and didn’t move as you stood, looking over your shoulder at her before you disappeared to find the other woman and your daughter.

It wasn’t hard to do. Not at all. You just followed the loud exclamations of a disgruntled infant. As you approached, you could tell your daughter had just been given a fresh diaper and was in the process of being swaddled. The cold, flat ground beneath her couldn’t have been helping things. The weather was warming but at a slow rate Regardless, you had no idea what was coming next: what Carol would share with you and the disaster that would follow.

“Oh, hey.” She greeted, patting the ground next to her. The lack of her usual gentle tone and welcoming smile were your first clues that something was amiss. She sighed heavily, not meeting your eyes once you were cross-legged at her side. Her hand was splayed over the top of the blanket, gently rubbing circles over Birdie’s belly. “There’s something I want to tell you—advice, if I can even call it that.” She said solemnly. You weren’t sure where her thoughts were at that moment but it was somewhere dark, somewhere in a place she had deserted since the deaths of Ed and Sophia.

“What is it?” You needlessly adjusted the knit hat on Birdie’s head; pulled the hood of the tiny jumpsuit more snug around her little round face.

“Babies cry, Y/N. It’s how they tell us when they need something. It’s the only way they can tell us.” Why was she schooling you on something you had already learned? And in such a monotonous fashion? “I don’t want Rick to be right but there are dangers and few options if a herd follows the noise.” She sighed heavily, her shoulders held slumped under an invisible weight. “I don’t like it but it’s fact.”

“I know that, Carol.” 

“It’s just—” When you looked away from the baby, your gaze was immediately drawn to the lone tear straying from her closed eyes. “When Sophia was born, she was—she was such a quiet baby.” Her words came so softly, so full of melancholic nostalgia that you felt your own heart clench. Then, when her eyes opened, they were hard, her expression stern and twisted. “He gave me a break. Ed.” She didn’t even need to say his name. You knew. “A couple of weeks before the—old habits came back. The bruises, the screaming.” She was trembling, her hand leaving Birdie to curl into a fist on top of her knee.

“Carol, we don’t have to—”

“Sophia felt it.” She nodded, staring off to nowhere in particular. “That energy—she began to cry, she was so unsettled. Ed didn’t like it. Shut her up or I will, he would say.” She bent forward, her face crumbling as her hand slid up to twist into the front of her jacket. “I didn’t want to do it, but I didn’t know how else to keep her safe.”

You waited her out, terrified of what she was about to tell you. When you said nothing, she inhaled deeply and released her hold on the coat, stroking the back of a knuckle over Birdie’s cheek.

“Y/N, I am going to show you something. I only ask that you please try not to think less of me.” Your mouth was moving but no sound emerging, your wide eyes watching her lean over your daughter, shushing the discontented cries. “I would never hurt your daughter, just as I would have never hurt my own.” Before you could speak, she was pinching Birdie’s little nose with one hand and covering her mouth with the other. The crying ceased but the flailing did not, her little limbs jerking.

“Carol!” You threw yourself forward and snatched her wrists, pulling them away from your daughter, throwing the other woman off balance and onto her hip. Carol caught herself, her palm shoving toward you in a desperate gesture for you to calm down. “What the fu—”

“Look!” She pleaded, her head jerking toward the now silent baby.

Birdie was still, her tiny blue eyes open and searching, stunned. She wasn’t crying, not at that moment. Your jaw was agape, your mind warring between anger and bewilderment; between betrayal and understanding.

“You only do it for a moment, not long enough to cause any harm.” Carol sat up, tears flowing down her cheeks, unchecked. “I couldn’t let Sophia cry. I did what I had to do.” She shook her head adamantly, her eyes closed tightly as if she were trying to jar the unpleasant memories loose and out of her mind. “I don’t regret it. I don’t. She was safe from him.”

“I don’t—Carol, I can’t do that.” You were crying openly now, picturing yourself denying your daughter precious breath. Even just one attempt would break you, split you open from the inside out.

“I’m not telling you that you have to, but Y/N,” she paused, gathering herself back up onto her knees at your side. She intentionally kept space between the two of you. “Rick—he’s trying to keep us safe. You saw what those monsters were going to do to her. You’ve seen what walkers can and will do. Just until we find a car. Until—”

Your face was in your hands now, Birdie’s crying having picked back up. “What if I—”

“Only a moment, Y/N. She will catch her breath. Eventually, it—it trains her.” Carol hesitantly touched your shoulder, and you broke, bowing over your little one with open sobs. Your body trembled from the force of your crying, any sound muffled by the blanket pressing into your face. “I’m so sorry. I just want her to be safe. I want her to have a chance.”

The two of you stayed that way for an uncertain amount of time, long enough for your sobs to drain away into hiccups and whimpers. Sitting up, you roughly wiped at your face, red and puffy eyes frozen on your screaming baby. How could you do what she was suggesting? How? What would Daryl think? “I need to talk to Daryl.”

Carol nodded, but her expression screamed uncertainty. “Maybe you should show him.” She suggested. “He can see that it’s not hurting her.”

“The man wouldn’t even wipe her ass because he was afraid of hurting her, Carol.”

“You’re right. Maybe this was a bad idea. I shouldn’t have—I’m so sorry.”

She felt ashamed. You could see it all over her; her face, the way she began to curl in on herself. She was ashamed of something she was forced to do to keep her baby girl safe. And then she had lost Sophia. It was clear that Carol wasn’t proud of the way she had to ensure her child’s safety. It wasn’t a hack you go around bragging about at neighborhood get-togethers. It was survival.

“Show me what to do.”

Expression grim, Carol moved closer and instructed. The actions were so simple. It was the very idea itself that was so impossibly difficult. Pinching Birdie’s little nose, the baby gasped wetly through her mouth just as your hand was coming down to cover it. Your heart was seizing, vibrating painfully in your chest. Just as your fingertips touched her cheek—

“What the fuck are you doin’?!”

Daryl.

[captainwans]

IN A RAGE.

 — A. GRIEZMANN

pairing: antoine griezmann x fem! reader

summary: usually antoine kept calm during heated matches with his opponents. however, one comment about his wife made him see red.

warning: traumatized reader, lots of angst, cursing, mention of former abusive relationship, mentions of anxiety disorders, and fluff at the end.

word count:  2,4k | ( gif not mine! )

disclaimer: luiz is a fictional character that i made up, in case you’re wondering. hope you like this as much as i liked writing it! <3

masterlist!

…   [Y/N] SAT AT THE STANDS, both of her legs anxiously bouncing as her eyes darted across the stadium with an uneasy expression plastered onto her face. She chewed on her bottom lip, lost in a dire of haunting thoughts that made her want to throw herself off a cliff—quite literally. She halted with her breaths, a shaky sigh escaping her lips as she relived the small argument that was shared between her and her husband, Antoine, and she felt a sting in her chest for her own behavior.

    “I don’t understand why you’re making such a big deal–” [Y/N] tried to argue, but was cut off by Antoine, who paused with a look of disbelief, looking at his wife like she’d grown two heads.

     Antoine scoffed, resting a hand on his hip. “It matters to me because he hurt you! The fact that we’re playing against each other makes me fucking sick to my stomach. How am I supposed to play fair when that guy’s the reason for the bruises you on your—” [Y/N]’s eyes burgeoned with tears, her jaw tightly clutched as she rapidly shook her head, blocking out her ex-boyfriend’s name.

    “Don’t. Don’t talk about him.” [Y/N] shot in a calming manner, her eyes rigid with tears. A reign of pain engulfed her body, but she stood on her ground, not allowing herself to break. Crumbling to pieces was not something she wanted to do at the moment, especially not in front of Antoine.

    Luiz Moralez was a menace—even on the football field. Having received multiple cards, yellow and red, go in accordance with how he is as a person outside of football. [Y/N] however, was blinded by love and saw the signs late. She remembered giving her friends a weird look at the comments about him, completely oblivious and too in love to realize that she made a deal with the devil.

    A gentle hand rubbed her back, snapping her out of her thoughts. She swallowed a lump into her throat, clenching her jaw before turning her head to Antoine’s sister, Maud, who looked at her with concern. “Are you alright, honey?” she softly asked, her doe-eyes gazing at her with genuine worry.

    [Y/N] dug her nails into her palms, biting the insides of her cheeks. The question made her want to sob into her arms, wanting her to rock her body back and forth while caressing her hair. She licked her dry lips before giving her an answer. “I, uh—I don’t know, Maud,” she admitted, giving her an uncertain smile, not sure if the smile was for herself or for her best friend.

    Maud’s hand traveled up to her neck, almost wincing at how tense it was. She studied her, her eyes slightly narrowed as she watched how her chest was heaving, making her frown. She glanced at her hands, noticing her fidgeting with her wedding band. Her eyes softened, bringing her warm hand into her cold ones, rubbing her icy skin with her thumb. “You’re safe here. It’s okay.”

    [Y/N] cringed internally, feeling like a child. Her jaw was starting to sting at how tight it was clutched. She nodded, repeating her words like a mantra. Her lips muttered her words quietly, earning another rub on her back for reassurance. The dark cloud in her heart became heavier, writhing and squeezing her chest tightly making her let out a breath she didn’t know she was holding.

     A whistle echoed inside the stadium, indicating the players’ appearance. Both of the teams stepped out of the dark hall, making a round of applause and cheers echo inside the stadium. [Y/N] moved her head, trying to catch a glimpse of her husband, but her eyes landed on Luis instead, whose piercing gaze on her made her freeze in her seat.

     Blood drained from her skin, her expression stretched into a mask of fright. She could feel her heart palpiate, blood rushing through her ears as she watched him give her a nod in greeting, his lips curving into a smirk. She quickly averted her gaze away toward his husband, whose eyes was on Luis—eyes glowed with fire.

   Antoine gently tapped his mascot’s shoulders, giving the child a comforting pat to ease their nerves. He stood across his opponent, who ironically happened to be Luiz. His blood boiled at how he sent a smile to his wife. His mouth quirked with annoyance, lips suppressing fury as he gave him a cold look.

    Luiz moved his gaze toward his opponent, an amusing expression plastered onto his features. He had his arms behind his back, shoulders out with a confident posture and Antoine wanted nothing more than to wipe that stupid smirk off his face.

    The French man gave him one last glare, turning his attention away from him to the match. Both of the teams gave each other a handshake, mutters of good luck and a tap on the back. Luiz neared Antoine, his rough hands clasping with his.

    Antoine tightened his grip on his hand, giving it a squeeze. He gave him a nod, his lips forming into a forced smile. He watched him falter for a moment before returning the same enforcing smile, their eyes dangerously pierced into each other.

    The players gathered around the field, waiting for the referee to blow the whistle. Antoine’s eyes darted across the stadium, eyes searching for his wife. His eyes found hers and he gave her an apologetic look, indicating for the small argument they had earlier. He watched her shake her head, blowing a few kisses, her lips chanting with the crowd for the French man.

    He smiled, eyes soft and loving, completely oblivious of Luiz giving him a glowering look. After what felt like an internity, the whistle finally blew and the match started. Half of the match went for Antoine’s team, having scoring a goal that went the crowd craving for more. Although Antoine encountered his opponent tackling him and preventing him from scoring, he managed in the end and manuvered the ball skillfully into the net.

    That seemed to make Luiz bitter for the whole break and it was obvious for the audience. Some caught him making dull comments about the French man, throwing his hands up exasperated about their performance. Some of his teammates watched the Spanish man with annoyance, making Antoine chuckle under his breath with a shake of his head. This guy, he thought.

    The rest of the match started with the other team dribbling the ball and centring to each other. Antoine jogged toward his opponent, managing to catch the ball and leading it to the other direction. The crowd roared with anticipation, watching the French man on the field, skillfully dodging their attempts to take the ball away from him. He was near and getting closer, but as his feet was about to shoot, Luiz happened to prevent the goal by using his body to push his shoulders, sending him to the ground.

   [Y/N] gasped, a hand covering her mouth as she watched the spectacle in front of her. Her eyebrows were knitted and her frown deepened. “Fucking asshole,” she cursed out loud, making a few snap their heads toward her direction—agreeing with her comment.

    “Asshole? More like a fucking meneance. How isn’t that a yellow card?” A man beside her interjected with a scorn, making a few people around him agree with his statement, their shouts of anger filling her ears.

    Antoine stood up on his feet, feeling his shoulder sting. He wiped off sweat that was trickling down his face and clenched his jaw. His face flushed with anger, watching how Luiz took the ball away from him. He noticed a few of his teammates crying in protest, yelling at the referee for a yellow card to the man. He patted a team player on the back, indicating to keep going and reassuring that he was fine.

    Luiz dribbled the ball, maneuvering around his opponent as he neared the net. The crowd cheered, boosting his skills as his foot went for a potential score, but was blocked by Antoine, who jumped in front of the net and slid his body against the grass.

   It was only a few minutes left and the other team could already taste victory. Just as Antoine stood up from the grass, his body was tackled to the ground, his hip hitting the ground with a harsh thump. A yelp tore through his throat, his hand gripping his left hip with gritted teeth.

    “Fucking jerk,” he grumbled, clenching his jaw. His teammates ran to his side, carefully helping him up to his feet before making a run to attack the Spanish player. They shared their complaints to the referee on his behalf, eyes dripped with spite as they looked at the opposite team.

    Antoine felt a prickling pain at his left hip, making him let out a shaky breath as he halted toward Luiz with a neutral expression on his face to prevent himself from punching his face. He watched him letting out a scoff, pushing one of his teammates out of the way to defend himself.

    A whistle pulled him out of his thoughts, making him snap his head toward the referee. Luiz could only shrug, a cocky expression plastered onto his face as he neared the referee. “We almost scored, he ruined the shot, man. I almost had it!” he defend himself with a glare, looking at his Antoine, whose veins in his neck stood out in living ridges, ready to pop out any second.

    After a bargain of shouts and protests, the referee sent Luiz off the field, bringing a red card in the air and Antoine thought he was seeing things as he watched the other team cheer. He scoffed, shaking his head in disbelief at the interaction and turned on his heel to play the last few minutes that was left.

    A harsh tug at his shoulder made him quickly turn around and immediately met with the face that he despised the most. He narrowed his eyes, a scowl forming on his handsome features as he looked at his opponent’s expression turning into a sour look, indicating his red card.

    He watched him open his mouth, but he cut him off before he could utter a word, already knowing what he was going to say. Antoine inched closer, his unwavering gaze holding him in his place. “Say a fucking word about my wife, I dare you. Back. Off.” he sneered, his jaw clutched as he looked at him with a cold glare before leaving him on the spot.

    “Why not? She’s a fucking whore.” Antoine halted with his steps and turned around once again. A look of rage morphed into his face, along with a flushed face and his lips turning thin before barging toward him, his hands using all his strengths to send him back to the ground.

    “What the hell did you just say about her?” Even Luiz’s teammates gave him disappointed looks, a look of shock etched onto their faces as they watched him uttering words like that. A teammate pushed Luiz back to prevent him to throw a punch at the French player. “Hey, enough! You’ve done enough, man.”

    [Y/N]’s eyes brimmed with tears, her lips forming into a downwards pout as she tried to stop the overwhelming emotions bubbling to the surface. Another whistle blew, signaling that the game was over and their team won. The crowd cheered screams of joy, completely forgetting about the heated interactin between the players.

    She stood up from her seat, ignoring Maud’s pleads as her feet hit the staircase to lead her down the dark hall. She watched the team entering the hallaway, their brims of smiles widening at their another win. She clutched her chest, her body glued into a corner as her eyes frantically searched for her husband. She rubbed the back of her crossed arms, hot tears threatening to fall. She sniffled, wiping her nose with her hand and slowly sauntered toward, catching a glimpse of blonde locks at the peripheral of her vision.

    Antoine gave his coach a forced smile, giving him an embrace. He heard his words of praise, but his mind was elsewhere and he longed for his wife. His eyes averted away from his coach toward the entrance hall, trying to find her among the heavy mass.

    [Y/N] let out a breath she held for awhile, feeling her shoulders relax as her eyes finally locked with his. She let her feet lead her, fastening her pace, desperate to be into his arms. A breathy smile reached her face, her hands cupping both of his cheeks before engulfing him into her arms.

    Antoine let out a tired sigh, hiding his face into her hair as he pulled her closer to his body. He rocked them back and forth, enjoying being in each other arms as they both whispered words of love and sweet nothings. “I’m sorry, mon chéri (my darling).” he murmed into her neck, planting a soft kiss into her skin before pulling away.

    [Y/N] shook her head, her hand drifting to hold the side of his neck as her thumb brushed his jaw. She felt him relax at her touch, reaching his hand to cover with hers. “You have nothing to be sorry for. You’re right—what you said, you know. I just, uh, I didn’t know what to say and I–I–” her words got caught in her throat, a vibrant blush creeping up her cheeks at his soft gaze.

    Antoine caught her chin, his thumb gliding across her cheekbones in a tender and gentle caress. He captured her lips for a loving kiss. She met his kiss with a dreamy sigh, her hands sliding up to wrap around his shoulder to pull him closer, deepening the kiss.

    They broke away the kiss, their forehead leaned against each other. Antoine’s lips curved up, both of his hands caressing her flushed cheeks. He hummed, planting a kiss on her forehead before pulling her into his chest. “I love you so much, you know that right? More than that psycho..” he told her, feeling her muffled laughs into his chest.

   [Y/N] pulled away, giving her husband a giggle. “I know, sweetheart. I love you so much as well, Antoine.” she mirrored his affection, giving him a loving smile.

[blood-orange-juice]

Pushing my "Childe is inspired by Uther Doul" agenda.

I wrote about how everything that he does contains a contradiction and we discussed with Cricket how Canotila's quest implies that the Abyss might not be just a place with monsters and dead forgotten gods, but rather a place where things randomly flicker in and out of existence or change to random other things.

And a huge part of my fascination with Childe is how three years after the start of the story I still can't figure him out. Human psyche doesn't bend at this angles, his combination of traits is not supposed to exist in one person (nor it can be imitated).

Yet, somehow it doesn't feel like ooc or bad writing, I have a very clear sense of what would be childelike and unchildelike, it just doesn't feel like anything that can exist inside a human brain, unless I resort to a very weird theory.

*

The theory.

China Mieville's "The Scar" has a concept called "possibility mining", certain places and certain magic/technology being able to conjure all the possible versions of a person or an object at once. It can be navigated to some extent.

There's a character called Uther Doul, a warrior-scholar, the pirate city rulers' bodyguard and overall a charming fellow. He's consistently described as someone changing the direction of his actions too quickly and unpredictably or having traits that shouldn't coexist in one person.

(he also wears grey, is proficient in most kinds of weapons and is generally polite and soft spoken. do you see my vision?)

First meeting:

  “Surrender,” he said quietly to the man before him, who looked up in terror and sobbed, fumbled idiotically for his knife.    The grey-clad man spun instantly in the air, his arms and legs bent. He twirled as if he were dancing and stamped out quickly, the bottom of his foot slamming into the fallen man’s face and smashing him back. The sailor sprawled, bleeding, unconscious or dead. As the man in grey landed he was instantly still. It was as if he had not moved.

A fight at a city arena (mostly quoting this for the reaction of other people to him):

It was only when the frenzy spread to her own boat that she realized it was a word. “Doul.” It came from all around her. “Doul, Doul, Doul.” A name. “What are they saying?” she hissed to Silas. “They’re calling for someone,” he said, his eyes scanning the surrounds. “They want a display. They’re demanding a fight from Uther Doul.” He gave her a quick, cold smile. “You’ll recognize him,” he said. “You’ll know him when you see him.” [...] Uther Doul did not seem to live in the same time as anyone else. He seemed like some visitor to a world much more gross and sluggish than his own. Despite the bulk of his body, he moved with such speed that even gravity seemed to operate more quickly for him.

The heroine contemplating after (I don't think need to comment):

They left and walked the winding nightlit pathways of Thee-And-Thine toward Shaddler, and Garwater and the Chromolith. Neither spoke. At the end of Doul’s fight, Bellis had seen something that had brought her up short and made her afraid. As he had turned, his hands clawed, his chest taut and heaving, she had seen his face. It was stretched tight, every muscle straining, into a glare of feral savagery unlike anything she had ever seen on a human being. Then a second later, with his bout won, he had turned to acknowledge the crowd and had looked once more like a contemplative priest. Bellis could imagine some fatuous warrior code, some mysticism that abstracted the violence of combat and allowed one to fight like a holy man. And equally she could imagine tapping into savagery, letting atavistic viciousness take over in a berserker fugue. But Doul’s combination stunned her. She thought of it later, as she lay in her bed, listening to light rain. He had readied and recovered himself like a monk, fought like a machine, and seemed to feel it like a predatory beast. That tension frightened her, much more than the combat skills he had shown. Those could be learned.

Uther explaining lore:

   Uther quoted something like a singer. “ ‘We have scarred this mild world with prospects, wounded it massively, broken it, made our mark on its most remote land and stretching for thousands of leagues across its sea. And what we break we may reshape, and that which fails might still succeed. We have found rich deposits of chance, and we will dig them out.’    “They meant all that literally,” he said. “It wasn’t an abstract crow of triumph. They had scarred, they had broken the world. And, in doing so, they set free forces that they were able to tap. Forces that allowed them to reshape things, to fail and succeed simultaneously-because they mined for possibilities. A cataclysm like that, shattering a world, the rupture left behind: it opens up a rich seam of potentialities.    “And they knew how to pick at the might-have-beens and pull out the best of them, use them to shape the world. For every action, there’s an infinity of outcomes. Countless trillions are possible, many milliards are likely, millions might be considered probable, several occur as possibilities to us as observers-and one comes true.    “But the Ghosthead knew how to tap some of those that might have been. To give them a kind of life. To use them, to push them into the reality that in its very existence denied theirs, which is defined by what happened and by the denial of what did not. Tapped by possibility machines, outcomes that didn’t quite make it to actuality were boosted, and made real.

Fun detail: he also wields what's called a "possible sword", it takes the shape currently preferred by the owner.

If I recall that correctly, it's never actually stated explicitly or explained why does Uther have such a weird combination of traits and fans argue a lot about which side was real.

I think all of them were. He just switched constantly between all the different versions of himself. And I think so does Childe. Not just in "he compartmentalizes" way (although that probably too) but in reality-shifting way.

I also think that's the real reason why Childe wasn't in Sumeru. His thought process itself is probably a massive spoiler. Also Nahida would have probably speedrun a corruption arc with a pace inconceivable both to King Deshret and Rukkhadevata if she tried to peek into his head.

*

It gets weirder and even more fun when you see the drops from the 4.2 boss, but I'll wait for the patch to drop to draw parallels. For now I'll just say that it involves a whale and a music instrument.

[historia-vitae-magistras]

lol Alistair and Rhys out swinging swords at ghosts and looking like a couple of nutters to the untrained eye. Do you still have the fic or maybe it was an ask about chonklet deluxe being held by a horrifying wraith and screaming like the damned?

A little bit! And it was initially an ask. This fic is brand spanking new because I forgot how cool of an idea that shitpost actually was if I took it seriously. Please be warned that this fic is gory and involves child endangerment, a bastardization of mythological creatures and just general violence. Also here on ao3.

Rural Lancashire, 1590

Dusk draped heavily over the world as the last light of day darkened into a thick grey. Arthur had ducked out the door to catch the midwife as she crossed his property on foot. If he was quick, he could often walk her as far as the edge of the village and consult her on whatever it was Alfred had done now. Teething, his first words, the seizures that had gripped him last spring, croup, the rare occasion Alfred was ever colicky. She was a steely woman with hair to match and indulged him at least, giving the best advice she had after decades of bringing children into the world. He'd hardly paid attention to the labours of women, and children so often died that there was rarely time to pay them any heed as they went from the cradle to the casket so quickly.

He had turned back to make his usual beeline for the house, pushing past and between the square hedges and sprawling kitchen garden. Some of the stronger-smelling herbs must have been finally in season; there was a reek Arthur couldn't quite identify. He had hardly cleared the fence when he heard Alfred's usual cry, demanding attention. The baby was a social thing, as personable as Rhys or Brighid and twice as bold about his want of company. He didn't like waking alone, wrapped up cozy in the cradle or otherwise.

Another sound, shrill and high. This one sent a spike of anxiety through Arthur's spine. He paused for the shortest moment. Then he was moving. That was not the cry of a baby who was lonely or wanted to be picked up. That was a terrified howl from his boy. He shot into the house, through the atrium, up the stairs, and into the nursery. Heaving, he flung open the heavy oak door. The smell was there again. The figure of a woman stood in relief against the low fire, Alfred cradled in her arms and screaming. For a stupid, foolish moment, he hoped it was the scullery girl he had told to mind the baby should he begin crying. But the smell. He took a step forward. At a new angle, he could see rotten eyes staring at his son, a cheek missing to decay and teeth gleaming through the gap.

"Baby." Came the garbled sound from long-dead vocal cords.

"You do not belong in this realm," Arthur said, cooly gesturing for her to hand him the child. His guts churned, bile in his throat. The revenants were often as confused as they were disgusting, pulling themselves out of whatever corner they had died and remained undiscovered. "Give me the child."

The Revenant turned to him. "Mine."

"You do not belong in this realm," Arthur said again, gesturing to Alfred again. He was losing patience with fear, the ceaseless screaming from Alfred turning into a hopeless, frightened sob. She tilted her head, and it fell limply to her shoulder, tendons snapping on the other side. She lifted one hand to push it back onto her neck, and he saw her hand for a moment in the light. Her fingers were torn freshly away. Oh, good Christ, this one had crawled out of her grave as they sometimes did when there was an infant's ceaseless crying above them. But Alfred had never stepped foot in the churchyard, and it was nearly a mile and a half away in the village.

"Rhys!" Arthur screamed, praying to god his brother was in the house and not out in the lambing pens.

The woman transferred Alfred almost tenderly to one arm and lunged at him, hand outstretched and her rotting jaw open. It couldn't close and Arthur couldn't hit her; Alfred was a heavy child and would fall to the floor as a leaden weight, and his soft little body would smash. Arthur was cold. Alfred was still crying.

"Give me my fucking son." He lunged, snatching at her arm. A layer of grey slime came away, and he retched even as he got fingers wrapped into the swaddling nearest Alfred's feet. He was suddenly wrestling a corpse, each of them struggling to get their hands on the blanket. One of Alfred's arms had slipped free, and he flailed, a fresh rolling scream emitting from his tiny scarlet face. Arthur had never seen him so flushed. He tried to shove her away and kick at the rotting creature, but more of something wet disintegrated from her legs. His hand was suddenly slick with gore and a piece of her fell to the floor with a putrid plop, unseen under the half-rotten chemise she had been buried in. She almost looked to grin at him and pulled Alfred closer.

"Let go!" He commanded, trying to get a purchase, but his hands were too slippery. He lunged after her as she retreated towards the door. "Let him go!"

Then a sword was through her belly. Something degassed like fetid blacksmith's bellows. Arthur's senses nearly abandoned him at the smell, but his hands closed around Alfred and tugged him to his chest, and he shot back against the wall, as far from the thing as he could get.

"I know. I'm sorry." He gasped, a clean hand cradling Alfred's head. "I'm so sorry."

The creature groaned and collapsed to the floor on its knees, struggling as its guts dissolved around the blade. Rhys stood behind her, still in his lambing clothes and boots, mother's leaf-bladed sword in his hands. He lifted it, and her head fell from her shoulders. The rotting eyes followed Arthur across the room. He watched as Rhys found one of the seams of her skull with the tip, plunged the sword in, twisted like he was splitting a log, and this time, she lay still, dismembered.

"Are you all right?" Rhys said, stepping over the body to look at him. He approached close enough to pull the blanket away to look at Alfred. Arthur tried to meet his brother's eyes. "Arthur?"

He couldn't. He could only close his eyes, hold Alfred tighter and collapse down the wall. Alfred pressed as tight as he dared against his sternum, and Arthur tried to breathe. Alfred's crying had softened, terror fading to a heartbreaking relief, and Arthur kissed his head. To close. Too fucking close.

"He's fine," Rhys said; his voice was much softer this time. "You're both fine, I promise."

[asingularcanadian]

you had a skull infection??? how did that happen

oh shit man ok

so back in 2018, i've just gotten home from macedonia, my mom is off work i'm off work my sister is off work, mom goes hell yeah we should all go swimming, swimming i my favorite, was swimin almost every day in macedonia, cant wait to go swimmin at home at the beach i know. so we go to the beach, love da beach, im in the water for like 4 straight hours just swammin, find out a friend of mine is moving out of toronto so spur of the moment decide to go see them for afew days, day 1 of the visit im like ah shit my ear hurts, i'm probs getting a ear infection from swimmin so much. I have a terribly sensitive left ear and have had an ear infection from swimming about once a year since i was 10ish. No big deal whatever I'll go to the doctors when I get back from visiting my friend. Mom goes to pick me up from my friend's place, imediately upon me getting into the van i'm like k i need to go to the hospital as soon as i get home I've got an ear situation, the infection has gotten so bad that it's aing it hard for me to move my jaw. I go to the hospital I get the antibiotic drops, go home.

Next day I wake up at 4 am, I am in such pain it is almost hard to see. I tell my ma hey i need to go up to the hosptal something is incredibly wrong, I know what these ear infections feel like they have never been this bad. it basically felt like the whole left side of my had and face was going to explode. It was throbbing and stabbing and just hell. Instead of going to the emerge she managed to get me into my family doctors, upon taking one look at it he goes ok we're sending you to the emerge we're going to call this doctor up there for you to see specifically you're going to need a scan of your skull, the soonr the better. Went up and got the scan.

APPARENTLY

when you leave ear infections untreated for long enough it can evolved into something called mastoiditis. your mastoid cells are pockets of bone and air kinda behind the ears

so when you get mastoiditis these pockets essentially fill with infection causing them to swell and damage tissue so it felt like my skull was going to explode because thats what legit was going on. I was cryin n screamin in the hospital just inconsolably sobbing and heaving cause i was in so much pain. Apparently it was one of the leading causes of death amongst children before the invention of antibiotics so now whenever I see woowoo antivaxx assholes onlie who wont give their kids antibiotics for ear things i always give the a good tongue lashing cause 1. not only should no child ever go through what a grown adult couldn't handle but 2. you're gonna kill ur kid in one of the slowest painful ways possible! and you should probably not do that

[undressmewithyoureyes]

Let There Be Light - Forty

**Ghost’s POV**

               I swear it felt like my heart had stopped. My breathing sure as fuck did. Her green pools stared into mine and in that moment, nothing could separate us. It was like our eyes connecting were a string connected to one another, but when she broke the contact, the string was cut in half, and it all went down hill from there.

               I had to remain calm, but dammit if I didn’t want to kill everyone else that wasn’t her or Nik and bring her home. I couldn’t jeopardize her life or mine.

               “Is this to your liking,” I heard Michael’s voice through the speaker in my room. My body stiffens from the high pitch in his voice – indicating that he wasn’t don’t talking. “Mr. Riley.”

               Fuck.

               Everything in me stops as the color drains from my face. The air around me was a heavy fog as time stood still. I didn’t even move or flinch when the door to my room was kicked in and three guards came in – two of Michaels and Nik. Two of Michaels guards stood behind me, one of each side, while Nik stood to my right against the wall – all had their guns pointed to me.

               My eyes are still focused on Harley as I see her start to shake her head and tears spill down her face. I try to speak and reassure her, but nothing comes out. I cant fucking speak, but everything inside me is screaming.

               “I’m a lot smarter than I look Simon Riley.” Hearing Michael say my name caused me to ball my fists by my side. There were only two people who were granted to say my name casually – Price and Harley – everyone else suffered. “It took some digging to find you, but I managed. And then, you come here under an alias with an exposed face,” he continues to taunt me but shifts his gaze to Harley. “Now that’s love. He did all of that for you.” I wanted to slit his fucking throat at his words. He was right, I’d do anything for her but the way he said it didn’t sit right with me.

               “See, everyone thinks that love stories end with Happily Ever After, but in my book, there is no such thing.” I watch as Michael nods his head to someone in my room and before I could even think, my ears were ringing and wall in front of me to my right was repainted in red. Nik’s lifeless body slid down the wall slowly leaving a trail of blood the was seeping out of his head. I shut my eyes harshly as I try to fight back the tears.

               “Nik come in, how copy?” I hear Price through my earpiece. “Nik come in.”

               Silence.

               “Ghost, can you hear me?” Price asked me. I couldn’t respond. I couldn’t even hum. I couldn’t do anything. “Ghost come in. Is everything okay?”

               “Thought you would try to be slick with one of your guys, huh?” He taunts me rhetorically. “An eye for an eye, yeah? You try to play me, and I played you. Checkmate.” Oh, it was checkmate when I get my goddamn hands around his neck. I was seething. My chest is heaving up and down.

               “What do you want from me?!” I yell out at him. I couldn’t hide it any longer. I was worried. Kill me if you must, but please spare her. Spare our child.

               Michael looked up at me with a shit eating grin, “I want you to sit back and enjoy the show.” Harley jerks her head to Michael and furrows her eyebrows in confusion. I jerk my head back slightly confused wondering what in the hell he meant by that.

               A tall figure caught my eye as my eyes shifted from Harley to…König. “No,” I whispered out under my breath to where only I could hear it. My eyes darted from König to Harley and then back and forth between the two.

               My heart was ripping in half watching the tears spill down her face. With each step König took, her shoulders flinched with each sob. I shake my head rapidly as my eyes widen – knowing what was about to happen. The two guards behind me took a step closer, but I didn’t care. She was mine and nobody else was allowed to touch her.

               “On your knees,” König’s voice demanded through the speakers. My little mouse didn’t move, and I was partially proud of her while the other part of me was hoping she would obey and not get hurt. The metallic sound of a gun cocking made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up from one of the guards on my left cocking his gun. With every second it took for him to do that and point it at the back of my head, icy chills ran down my spine. “Don’t make me ask again Liebling.”

               My knuckles cracked from the amount of pressure I put on them from his pet name. ‘Darling.’ This tall motherfucker wanted to be like me so bad, but there’s only one Ghost and that’s me. I watched Harley take a deep breath – not wanting to do it, but it stung my heart that she was willing to do whatever to save my life.

               Her shoulders shook from her uncontrollable sobs and my heart broke into a thousand pieces. König kneels behind her and grabs her roughly by the back of her neck – pushing her on all fours. She was wearing a large black shirt – just like she used to wear mine and taunt me with. Her small whimpers and sobs came through the speakers and when the sound of a zipper mixed in with her sobs, my blood ran cold.

               König roughly grabs her hair, jerking her head up to look at me. Her soft pleas would make any mans knees weak, “König please don’t. Don’t do this.”

               My vision was becoming blurring with the picture in front of me I was forced to watch, and my mind blanked out. I couldn’t. They couldn’t do this to me. She was my everything and here I was being forced to watch her with another man. Her screams shook me out of my blank thoughts and disassociation as I fell to my knees. One of my worst nightmares is coming true.

               I watched her as König fucked her from behind and cooed at her. Michael stood off to the side – his eyes darting back and forth between me and the explicit scene before him. Harleys small whimpers hit me like a ton of bricks as I could hear König enjoying every second of this. I couldn’t take it anymore.

               I drop my head, but was soon readjusted when one of the guards walked over to me and forced my head up to look. König was fucking her hard and with each thrust, moans slipped past her lips. Her eyes found mine once again as tears spilled down my face. König pulled out and flipped her over before reentering her harshly. I watch her as her back arches, just like it does for me and a gasp comes out of her mouth.

               “That’s right Liebling. Look at you submitting to me,” König taunts her. I knew it was natural for her body to react this way, but deep down I knew she hated every moment of this. Their wet skin slapping on each other made me want to cut my ears off and never hear another thing ever again.

               “Who do you belong to now?” König asks her and I freeze. I didn’t want her to answer. I couldn’t hear this answer.

               “Si-Simon,” she moans out as our eyes meet. My girl. König asks her a few more questions as he roughly fucks her and her moaning out my name trumps over all of it. She was still mine.

               “You’re so close darling. I can feel it,” I hear König grunt out as his pace picks up. “Who do you belong to now?” he asks her again.

               “You.” Her voice cold and full of hate that sent a spark within me.

               “What’s my name Harley?” he asks her as if he wasn’t satisfied with her answer before. König changes his pace from rough and fast to slow and hard thrusts. Harleys arms fly up to his and squeeze. She was close. I knew that look that was over her face a mile away. I had seen it so many times and it was one of my favorites on her.

               “König,” she whispers out.

               No.

               “Louder,” König demands as he yells it out.

               “König!” her scream sent me into another blank void. All I saw was this black place. No light. No hope – just a dead void.

               “It’s a shame your baby is already in there Lieutenant.” König’s voice bringing me back to the harsh light, “Cause there would definitely be on in there after tonight.” As fast as the rage filled me, it left – and I was calm. Broken, but calm. I slowly look at the man who held my girl in his arms with daggers. Her head slowly looked at me with heavy eyes and I knew she had never seen this look before. It was a look and a feeling that I dared to not ever bring out again. Shit, it even scares me.

               Harleys eyes shut as König turned and walked out the same way her came in. I thank whoever that I was the last thing she was able to see before her eyes closed. The other man behind me walked over and they both lifted me to my feet.

               “You can escort Mr. Riley out of here,” Michael said as he stared at me. Both of the guards had their hands around the upper part of my arms.

               “Oh! And Simon,” he says clicking his tongue, “That will be the last time you will ever lay eyes on her again.” My body stiffened at his words as I watched him turn around and head out where König took Harley.

               The guards forcefully pulled me towards the main entrance of the door, before pushing me through the entrance – making me fall to my knees. The doors shut and I heard the lock click in place. It was dark by this point with no SUV to take me where I needed to go.

               “Price,” I say under my breath.

               “Fucking hell. What the fuck is going on?” Price demands over the earpiece.

               “I-I need you to come get me,” I responded the best I could. Tears filled my eyes yet again and I tried to push the feelings aside and get into the mindset that I needed to be looking for her – and I couldn’t do that with my emotions in the way.

               “Watcher is around the corner. Bravo one and the guys are out,” Price responds before the earpiece went dead.

               Tires rumbling down the road behind me perked my ears. It was a black SUV, like the one I had been escorted in prior. It came to a stop and the driver’s window rolled down. Laswell.

               I walk over to the passenger side of the SUV, get in and drive off into the fucking darkness with two things on my mind.

               König and Michael Gravely.

[imbasic-oppossum]

The seat of the car was cool

against my skin, almost burning. Outside, people were laughing, screaming, blasting horrible music. Lights flickered against the window pane. I stared listlessly outside, watching shapes tumble past, kids stumbling home drunk as a skunk. My fingers traced lines against the icy window. I could feel the vodka and ecstasy mingling in my blood, turning my into a buzzing glowing creature.

The door opened behind me. Thump. The door shut, and I turned. Oh. Him. Yay. His horrible black wavey hair that hung below his ears. His eyes bugged out and practically melted into fudge. Horrible. His skin was pasty white and lumpy with acne. I hated his face.

"Go away please," my voice flowed out shrill and pathetic.

I swatted at his arm, wanting him gone, and instead I slumped a little, leaning onto his arm. I didn't pull away, I narrowed my eyes at him. He was blinking slowly and calmly. His mouth turned down at the edges and he looked so much like a sad puppy that a giggle bubbled from my throat. He rubbed his eyes, his arm prying out from under me.

"Why are you always mad at me?" He asked, his words squeaky and tearful.

I smiled a little, blinking slowly. Frankly, I wasn't mad at him. But I was always under my own skin.

"Because you're just the most annoying guy I've ever met," I covered my mouth, smothering another giggle.

He nudged me with his shoulder and I slid closer against him. his smell was comfortable, and I liked his gray sweatshirt. It felt cool against my cheek, and smelled like Tide laundry detergent and sawdust. My head fell against his shoulder, and I could feel him letting out a soft little sigh.

"I'm high," my voice broke in a sob, and I knew it was because of the drugs.

I could feel him shifting to look at me, could practically smell the concern. It was endearing in a way.

"Why would you do that?" He admonished, like a mother, so gently correcting my latest disobedience.

"B-because..." my words trailed away.

He was turning over, facing me now. He had to hold me up because I was slumping over like a doll.

"Why?" He was so insistent.

I tried to bat his hands away, but my own were so wobbly and distorted that they did no more harm than a kittens swat.

"What did you do?" He asked, and I had to look at his ugly eyes.

"The body," I blubbered. "I did that."

Had I said that? Oh well. There were better things to think of. I felt so much better! I smiled at him, and wondered why his face looked so silly.

"You means those pranks? The ones the crazy people saw?" He asked, his neck craning, his face trying to follow mine. I let out a nice dramatic sigh.

"Yes, because he said so, and I don't want to think about it." I tried twisting away but he really did need to lay off.

"Wait, who did?" I got the strength to shove his hands away.

He glared fiercely at me, those horrible melting eyes. I leaned against the door of the car, looking at him dizzily. He sighed, climbing out of the car, the gravel crunching humorously under his tennis shoes. The door slammed. Click. Oh, big scary man locking me in. I tugged at the door. Child lock. I felt queazy, and laid my head back. The ceiling swirled and dipped and I smiled to myself. I was so tired.

I didn't really feel the vomit, I just heaved it onto the floor of the car. The burn of alcohol and bad Chinese food twisted through the air and I must've passed out.

I was being moved around, gently, soft words telling me you're alright, I'm here now, we're gonna go home.

Idiot. He smelled nice and I buried my face in his neck. He was moving me, arms lifted, cold air, nice comforters. I tugged his shirt and I was pushed off. 

I slept for hours and hours, drowning in everything Id ingested. Soon all memory of the body was gone.

[silverdelirium]

STICKY WASHING MACHINE PART TWO | D.M

a/n: i feel like this is so bad but hold on to this while i finish that blaise smut <3

summary: just soft sex with draco after you thought you were getting fired

warnings: bit of clit play, riding, sex on a two seater swing chair, mentions of anxiety, slight dirty talk, bulge kink

find part one here.

———

the quietude was almost nerve-wracking as you sat down on the dinner table, draco’s eyes boring down onto the side of your face as you kept yours on your plate.

scorpius was the first to speak— you almost forgot he was there, to be honest.

“i drew us another picture today, daddy” he beamed.

“did you now?” replied draco, matching the little boy’s enthusiasm. his gaze now settled on his son instead of you.

“yes! y/n helped me with it”

great. now both of the malfoy’s eyes were directed towards you. you didn’t know where or who to look at, too traumatized to look at scorpius knowing that he almost walked in on his father about to go balls deep inside of you— and you didn’t want to look at draco because what if the moment you were alone he was gonna ask you to leave for throwing yourself at your boss like a prostitute from the street.

maybe you were overreacting but it didn’t soothe your anxiousness in the slightest when draco turned his head to scorpius and asked him to go wait for him at his playroom until he was done having “a little chat” with you.

scorpius nodded quickly and gave you a quick kiss on your cheek as he ran off upstairs.

as the pitter-patter of the child’s feet died down, you gathered up all the courage you could find and looked up at the blonde who was already staring down at you.

“that’s the first time you’ve looked at me since—”

“you don’t have to say it” you cut him off, tone sharp and cold as you braced yourself for whatever he might say next.

his brows shot up in slight surprise but he just nodded his head as he stood up from his chair, brushing down his pants— coming to a halt at your side.

“what?”

“stand up,” he commanded, not giving you time to respond as he took long strides, disappearing from your view when he stepped outside, onto the porch.

your brows knitted together in confusion but you made no move to protest as you march towards the porch— finding him sitting down on the two-seater swing chair.

“sit” draco ordered as he patted down the space next to him.

a small breath was released from your lips as you placed yourself next to the blonde— the mere touch of his thigh against yours brought you back to earlier’s events from when he buried himself inside you until you had his load seeping out of you.

“are you gonna fire me?” the question blurted out before you could stop it and embarrassment washed over you as draco laughed to himself while shaking his head— as if he was listening to a joke from a five-year-old. git, you thought.

“no, princess. i’m not firing you” a pause “in a sense” he finished.

“what’s that supposed to mean?”

“well, i don’t want you to work for me anymore—” a loud whine from you cut his sentence short. “listen— listen, please” he started before you started to give him any phoney excuses.

“i don’t want you to work for me. i want you with me.”

silence.

draco was met with silence as he observed your flabbergasted features while you processed his words.

“huh?”

he sighed. “i’ve liked for far way too long y/n. and if you’ll have me— i want to be yours, i want you to be mine”

by this point, his forehead was connected to yours, your warm face in his large palms as his breath fanned on your lips.

“tell me that you want me too, say it. i want to hear you say it” he growled, mushing his lips to yours whilst his hands travelled down to your waist, thumping heart accelerating when he manhandled you against his lap.

“i want you” you mewled, rolling your hips towards his growing bulge as you kissed him fiercely. his hands ran over every curve of your body, settling on your skirt-covered bum.

“you want me baby? want me to fuck you again until i’m deep inside your pretty little guts?” he taunted and you had to bite down on your tongue to not release a moan at his words alone. a choked out “yes” managed to slip past your lips and that was all the confirmation draco needed before he was chanting a spell that undressed you both.

he took a moment to stare at your blissful form, watching your slightly shuddering as the night’s cool air hit your weeping cunt. the moonlight reflecting on your soft skin only highlighting the glistening hole even more.

his prick stood tall and proud as he toyed with your clit with one hand, the other cradling the back of your head as your tongues danced together.

the scenario seemed almost out of a romantic movie— with the way draco slowly eased himself inside you, shushing you softly as a particularly loud cry escaped you, even though it didn’t matter, scorpius was deep in sleep by now.

your hips slowly heaved up and down on him, the sensitive bundle of nerves hitting his pubic bone every time you came down, shooting fireworks throughout your body.

his muscled arms were tight around your waist, holding you in place as you gazed fixedly into the other’s eyes, forehead against forehead, hot breath over hot breath.

“you like having this cunt stuffed full of my cock, don’t you, my love? you like having me poking out of you, yeah?” it was then that you looked down to see that indeed, your stomach’s smooth skin was slightly pushed out, the outline of his cock as clear as day.

“yes! it feels so good, dray” you gasped out, increasing your moves slightly as his hips rutted upwards into you. tears brimmed at your waterline as he smoothed a hand over your dishevelled hair, lewd sounds being heard from where the two of you connected.

the familiar feeling didn’t take too long to appear, given the fact that you were still sensitive from the prior incidents this same evening.

your arousal dripped down on the swinging chair as draco attached his mouth to your neck, instinctively finding your sweet spot and sucking as one of his hands palmed at your breast.

“oh! i’m gonna cum” you sobbed, grinding faster on his twitching cock until your toes curled and the orgasm struck you without warning. trembled gasps coming out of the both of you as he shot his load inside you for the second time that day.

a calming quietness enveloped you and draco as you stayed in his arms, his softening cock still stuffed inside your puffy pussy, not entirely aware of draco’s soft praises against the shell of your ear.

———

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[vibraniumwing]

soft.

a bucky barnes x fem!reader wherein the reader comes home to see the super soldier with a toddler tucked in his lap.

WARNING: none! (all mistakes within the story are mine)

A/N: soft and domestic (and clingy) bucky, anyone? i’ve written this with tfaws bucky in mind after episode five where he was on the couch and smiled after seeing sam’s nephews. so yes now i present to you bucky with a child bcs we need that content, ,, good bYe for i shall be drowning in my own feels.

---

“Do you really have to go, doll?” Bucky asked, watching you by the frame of your shared bedroom door with his hands crossed against his chest. A heavy sigh heaving from his lips as his eyes observed you pick out a shirt to wear, hands grasping on his black shirt and opted to wear that; a small smile formed on his lips as you slipped into the clothing piece, adoring how big it looks on you.

You turned to him with your hand on your waist, an eyebrow raised, “Unless you want to starve for a whole month then fine I won’t go to the grocery” you say teasingly, checking yourself out in the mirror before walking up to him, arms linking around his neck loosely; his hands circling around your waist in a protective manner as he pulls you into him. “I won’t be gone for the whole day, James.”

He groaned softly, wanting nothing more than to accompany you but seeing that you were going with your mother, he opted out. “You always say that then be gone for the whole afternoon.” he grumbles in between the kisses he gives you. “You and your mom take so much time at the grocery store.”

You threw your head back and laughed, finding his small whiny state adorable. You retract your arms from behind his neck and cupped the sides of his face, squishing his cheeks gently. “You sound like a child, Buck. I promise I won’t be long. Besides, you have Alpine to keep you company.” you motion your head to the sleeping cat on the bed.

“Now please let me go so I can leave now and be back sooner.” you tell him, pressing one final kiss to his lips before ducking out of his embrace, making your way to the front door and grabbing your car keys before turning back to see him standing behind you with a small pout on his lips (albeit he would never admit to doing such an act),

You grinned and walked up to him, reaching up to press a small kiss on his lips. “Sometimes it's hard to believe you’re this big scary dude that can take twenty men down in a course of ten minutes when all I see is this big baby.” you tease, a hand snaking up to the back of his head to play with the ends of his hair softly.

“Doll wait before you go” Bucky starts off, holding onto you, cheeks lightly flushed as he hesitated with his words, clearing his throat lightly before looking away, “Can you set up that damn Netflix thing on the TV before you leave?”

Your gaze on him softened even more and nodded, leading him to the living room and set the whole thing up for him, handing him the remote right after. “I’m guessing you can manage now?” he smiled shyly, the area around his eyes crinkling as he nodded. “Yeah, I will. Thanks, doll.”

“I’ll be back later, I love you, Buck!” You bid him a goodbye, looking back at him from the door and gave him a small wave, the male waving back before focusing on the TV, searching for that one movie you suggested he watch.

“What was that movie called again? RIght, The Breakfast Club”

---

Not even half-way through the movie, Bucky had somehow fallen asleep on the couch, not finding the first few minutes of the film entertaining. He somehow fell deep into slumber that he didn’t even notice the front door of the house opening until he felt something being placed on his stomach.

He stirred awake and the first thing his blurry vision could make out is the outline of a toddler sitting on him. “Hey James, I’m leaving Hugo with you and Y/N for the weekend. Our babysitter cancelled out last minute and I’ve been trying to call my sister but she hasn’t picked up any calls.” Damian, your younger brother said in a rush, putting down your nephew’s baby bag on the coffee table. “Thanks James, we owe you one.”

But before Bucky could get a say in any of this, Damian was already out the door and the sound of a car pulling away was followed. Barely half-awake, he stared at the tyke who was staring right back at him with his innocent E/C doe eyes. “What do I do with you?”

He takes Hugo in his arms as he sits up, placing him on his lap, his metal arm reaching over to pause television. “Y/N’s better at this than I am.” he mumbles, watching the child look around the room before he started to fidget on the larger male’s lap, wanting to roam around.

Bucky sighs, “Now why won’t Y/N answer her calls?” he asks the tiny human who was still staring up at him. He reaches over to grab his phone and dials your number, only to hear it ring from the other side of the house, inside your room. He dropped the call and placed his phone inside his pocket, now wondering what he could do to keep the small person alive.

“Usually Y/N deals with you.” He says, watching the small child struggle on his lap, clearly wanting to get down. Bucky finally gets what Hugo wanted to do and sets him down on the carpeted floor, watching the toddler (wobbly) walk around the space freely.

Seeing that the child was doing alright after finding a small fixation with Alpine who was now resting near the couch, he returned his attention back to the TV to resume watching the movie. His attention split in half as he continued to glance back at the kid who was now playing with the toys you had brought him and kept at in a basket in the corner of the living room where you deemed it “Hugo’s Area”

Bucky was finally getting into the film, entertainment written all over his face at the sight of the students dancing around the library until it morphed into one of concern when a small bonk followed by a loud cry resonated the room making him look over at Hugo who was already flushed from crying.

He paused the movie again and rushed over to Hugo’s side, taking the small boy in his arms, cradling him on his lap as he tried to calm him down. “Now kid, don’t cry on me. C’mon” he mumbled, raising him up lightly to look at his forehead as he searched for any wounds, relieved to find none.

“C’mon James, what would Y/N do…” He said to himself, standing up as he moved around and cradled the crying child, trying to remember what you would do whenever he has meltdowns like this.

“Oh god, right!” Bucky exclaimed as he remembered, quickly going to the couch and sat down, placing Hugo on his lap as he gently placed his vibranium hand on the back of his head and his flesh one cupping the smaller one’s cheek, wiping the tears that glistened on his smooth skin.

Seeing how the toddler was starting to calm down, he carefully spoke, “Now you gotta work with me, little one.” Bucky then proceeded to blow softly on his face, remembering how you would do that when Hugo was having a fit. “Now can you do that for me as well?” He asked, encouraging the child with a small smile.

Once he felt the kid do the same thing, he repeated the steps a few more times until he was completely calm, letting the child snuggle up against his chest, feeling how he would occasionally let out a small shuddering sob from time to time, making Bucky laugh at the adorable action. “Now what do you want to do?” he gently asked, the cold surface of his metal hand that caressed the child’s back making small bubbles of laughter elicit from the baby.

“Bucky wead [ read ] pwease?” was all that left the two-year old’s mouth, causing a small surprise from the older. Hugo then pushed himself off from Bucky’s chest and turned to his small corner of the room, raising his small arm and pointing his even smaller finger towards the bookshelf that was filled to the brim with story books.

A chuckle left the soldier’s lips, “Alright then, little dude. Go take your pick.” he then proceeded to let him down and watch as the toddler walked his way towards the array of books and picked out one, running back towards him with a big smile.

“Alright big guy, what do you have for me?” Bucky asked, taking the tyke in his arms once again, taking the book from Hugo’s hands. He let out a (very) fake gasp of excitement which made the toddler laugh out loud as his reaction, making small little wiggles of his own eagerness for the book.

Bucky shifted in his seat a little to be more comfortable, letting Hugo snuggle up to him as he opened the book and started to read, “Llama Llama, red pajama, reads a story with his mama.”

---

You were elated to finally come back home and fall into your lover’s arms from a long day of errands with your mom. After the Target trip with your mom, you had to drive her back home and help her with her own groceries and pack up everything with her over at your childhood home一 with an addition of having a few serious talks with her about your future.

“Seriously, Y/N. When are you going to give me a grandchild?” Your mother poked your sides as you helped her bring in the bags filled with her stuff. Ever since Damian introduced Hugo to the family, she’d been on your heels about when you and Bucky would bring one to them as well; admittedly you and him had been in a much longer relationship than Damian and his wife which surprises everyone even more.

You shrugged, rolling your eyes in a playful manner. “I don’t know, mom. I think I’m content being with Bucky for now.” you answered truthfully, setting the items on the kitchen island and turned to her, “Besides, we have Alpine! Our cat!”

This made your mother sigh, laughing softly at your antics. “I know my sweet girl, but I’m just so excited to see a little you or James run around with Hugo.” Her answer causes your heart to swell at the thought of starting a family with him some day; conversations like this with him are normal but are always caught in a fleeting moment so you were never certain about his opinions on the matter.

“Well you just have to wait and see, ma.”

Taking the bags in your hand, you walked over to the door and opened it with ease, expecting to see Bucky waiting for you on the other side only to be greeted by none. Your eyebrows were furrowed as you carefully stepped inside, assuming he had fallen asleep as he waited for you until you heard his quiet voice resonating through the living room. “Little llama, don’t you know? Mama llama loves you so”

You peeked at the source of the sound and what you saw made you just melt on the spot. Bucky had Hugo on his lap, your nephew playing with the thumb of his artificial arm as he listened to the story that he was barely paying attention to as he was already falling asleep.

Not wanting to interrupt the moment, you graced on over to the kitchen in silence and arranged everything as quiet as you can. The smile on your face growing bigger at the thought of how much of a good father Bucky could be; the sight of him with your nephew caused a thousand butterflies to dance around in your stomach freely.

“You’re back, doll?” Bucky’s quiet voice made you jump, head whipping to his direction where he stood with Hugo fast asleep in his arms.

You nod and walk towards him, offering to take him from his arms and Bucky disagreed, pulling away from your attempts. “Hugo’s with me, I’ll take him to bed and I’ll help you finish out here, alright?”

Chuckling softly, you agree and reach up to place a quick kiss on your nephew’s forehead, moving aside so Bucky can place him down inside your room.

You were folding up the plastic bags when you felt a pair of arms sneak up and circle your waist, capturing you in a back hug. Your back was flat against his chest, the warmth from his body making you relax in his arms. Turning around, you let your arms snake up around his neck, your hands playing with the ends of his hair, his physique visibly loosening up. “So your brother came here earlier and said you weren’t picking up your calls.”

“I forgot my phone, i know.” you told him, throwing your head back slightly to let out a soft groan of annoyance at yourself before looking back at him. You met his gaze and his eyes were filled with adoration and love with a spark of something you can’t seem to pinpoint. “What’s going through that head of yours, James?”

He hummed softly, pressing a quick kiss to your lips, “I was just thinking of how I want to have a family of my own with you.” he answered truthfully, not finding anything shameful in admitting his thoughts. “The afternoon I spent with Hugo made me realize I want that for us as well.” his words were soft and dripping with enthusiasm at the thought of being with you for the rest of your days.

This made your cheeks flush lightly, a happy smile resting on your lips as you were already in agreement of his words, “I’ve been thinking the exact same thing, Bucky. I can’t wait to have our own little minion running around the house.” you admitted, this time making Bucky smile even wider than yours, happy that you had the same thought.

“Also, not to brag but I think I’m his favourite now.” Bucky said out of nowhere, grabbing the small carton of chocolate milk from behind you and letting you go, opening the drink and chugging it down in one go.

You rolled your eyes at his words, playfully flipping him off as you sauntered into the pantry where you were arranging your stock of goods. “I highly doubt that, he loves me way more.”

“That’s what you think but Hugo made me read his favourite book to him so now I’m his favourite. He even said it himself.”

“Oh no he didn’t!”

---

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[noritoshiikamo]

lunch date

part 2 of this childhood friend drabble (ok fr frshould i name this childhood friend series or public sex series bcs hmm you'll see) pairing: gojo satoru + fem!reader genre: smut bcs i think with my hand down my pants when i see gojo tags//warning: established relationship public sex, gojo thinking with dick part 2, mention of breeding kink tagging: @unabashednightmarepizza @sukirichi @sassyeahhhh [lemme know if wanna be tagged in the next part] note: the obligatory trio of mine: unedited, lowercase intended, the obligatory trio of mine: not well edited, lowercase intended, english isnt my first language im sorry if i murder it.

“toru- ah, that hurts!”

his grip to her thighs tightened, “shhh, they can hear you.”

when gojo satoru suggested that they have lunch together, she happily accepted. she didn't suspected anything odd of his behavior. he was so kind to offer to bring her something over and she has been so stressed with her works, she just accepted it with no questions. it was the first text she’d replied after ignoring his many messages and calls.

it has been two weeks since the staircase incident and she started to suspect that he knew that she was actively trying to avoid him for almost a week. she knows gojo satoru like the back of her own hand, she knows he will not forget his promises, and he will hold against her until he gets it. their newly blossomed relationship was doing okay until he popped the question out so casually as she cooked. she couldn’t forget the look on his face.

“so, when are we going to have a baby?” his question that freaked her out lingered in her mind.

a baby

what was she thinking? she smacked her head on the table. “you could’ve asked for a house, or his black card, or something else. but a baby?” her voice strained.

“yes?” the hair on her back stood at the familiar deep voice.

she looked up so fast, her head spun to see her door opened wide. sara, her colleague stood with a slight frown on her face and on her side, gojo satoru. he wore teasing smile, traded his blindfold for his glasses and he looked different. he wore a white dress shirt, sleeves rolled up with a pair of black pants and boots. his outfit looked simple and minimalistic, but don’t be fooled. she knew his shirt costs about the same as her monthly rent.

i can’t believe i picked a baby over his black card, her mind cried at the thoughts.

“i’ve tried stopping him,” sara explained, a glare on her face. he interjected. “i don’t need appointment to see my girlfriend,” gojo stepped inside, holding the door. “girlfriend?” sara questioned. she couldn’t help but to feel satisfied at the reaction her assistant’s face held.

“she gave you, her number?” she asked, one night where he came over. the bed sheet wrapped around her bare body as her eyes raked up and down satoru’s own bare body as he leaned against the headboard. his eyes shut close with his arms flexed behind his head. a small satisfactory smile on his face as he said, “right after telling me that you like me.”

“that bitch,” she hissed, gritting her teeth.

“y/n chan,” his eyes opened, a teasing smirk grew on his face. he leaned forward, the blanket pooled around his waist as he cupped her face in his hand, “didn’t see you as a jealous kind.”

it wasn’t that fact that she was jealous that sara is actively into gojo. she was fuming at her assistant for divulging her personal matter to him. that part first, and then maybe she was a little jealous. but then, sara was the reason she finally gets the guy she’s been waiting for; so at the end she still wins. sara will remain a bitch for a reason.

“it’s okay, we are having lunch together. you can leave,” she dismissed her, rubbing her strained eyes. gojo happily slammed the door shut.

“so, wanna tell me why you’re avoiding me?”

she sighed, her fingers ghosting over the keyboard, his presence has disturbed her mind, “i’m not. i-i’m busy.”

he sat on her chair, crossing his legs as he rested his lanky body against the chair. “you can’t even look at me. what is it?” he asked. her finger stopped above the enter key. she wanted to press it, but she can’t. something is holding her back. she knew what he’s doing. she sighed in defeat and turned to face the elephant in the room. her brows frowned when she realised; “where’s the food?” she asked staring at the empty table.

“huh?”

“lunch? you told me we are having lunch?” she frowned. this idiot did not just suggest that they’ll have lunch together, show up at her office without the promised food. gojo looked at her sheepishly, a small smile on his face.

“oh, that. yeah, i just want an excuse to see you,” his small smile turned sinister as he lolled his head to the side, “you could be my lunch.”

her face pressed against the glass window overlooking the city. her floor wasn’t that high, they could see the streets bellow and the office in front of them. she repeatedly told him that they can’t do this. “they can see us,” she panicked, despite being delirious from his kisses as she let him unbutton her shirt. but a few kisses later, her skirt hiked up, panties in his pocket and his dick hitting her cervix roughly, she was convinced.

“you think you can come for me six times?” he heaved, lips against her bare shoulder, accentuating his words with his every thrust, “six for the amount of days you've ignored me. another five to go, buttercup. should be easy.”

his hand trailed down her chest, her belly until he found her neglected clit. a gentle tap of her bundle of nerves had her throwing her hair back. she was about to come undone; he could feel it from the way she was desperately clamping down on his length and her whining. tears streaming down her face as she bit down on her lips to hold herself from screaming, she could taste blood. her body shuddered, her sweaty skin leaving marks on the glass and the way he just mewled against her ears, praising her made her legs buckled.

he was quick to catch her, hands gripping her waist.

they moved to the desk, pushing all her files and pens aside as he laid her down. he showered her with kisses, slowly trailing them down to her cunt. he eyed her glistening slit, mouth watered. grabbing her legs, he held it open, she whined at the feeling of his warm breath ghosting over her. “satoru, i can’t,” she moaned at the first lick, her hand pressed on his head trying to get away, but he held her tight. “n-no more, ah fuck, fuck!” she could feel his eyes on her, watching her every reaction as his tongue worked their ways. the feeling on his teeth grazing her clit, the tip of her tongue teasing around her entrance, before slipping in.

she tasted so good; it was more pleasurable for him than her. she looked pretty squirming to get away as he held her tighter, tongue darting in and out. overstimulation was hitting her full force and she was high in pleasure. her brain couldn’t comprehend; between the feeling of his breath against her slit, his tongue fucking her, his calloused palms against her waist and the sound he was making. she didn’t give two fucks if the office heard them fucking.

“close, fuck, toru i want-” her words cut off by her own moan.

his tongue switched, sucking on her swollen clit as his finger took over the fucking. it didn’t take long for her to gush out. her head was pounding, his words went in one ear and out the another. he stood up, drools and her fluid covered his chin and onto his bare chest. he helped her sat, she was beyond exhausted. the feeling of his fingers brushing her hair back brought back to the office, she looked up to him with her eyes half drooped. a soft chuckle escaped his lips as he pressed it on hers. “you okay?” he whispered, planting kisses after kisses. “i miss you so much,” he cooed.

“miss you,” was all she could mustered out.

“did i scare you? with the baby talk?” he asked, pulling her in his arms. truth be told, seducing her into fucking in front of the glass window wasn’t the actual reason gojo was here. but her words were just so inviting, he doesn’t mind a little detour. she tasted delicious. she mumbled something against his chest, but he was sure it was a maybe.

“i thought you wanted it.”

she pouted, finally the first sentence her brain could scrambled, “maybe i change my mind.”

“that’s why you ran away from me? you’re scared?” he tilted her head up, his heart warmed at the little pout she had on, “oh buttercup, i won’t lie. the thoughts of you all round and milky with my child is turning me on-” not a lie, because she could feel his cock pressing against her slit, “but it’s okay. one day i’ll change your mind but for now, i’m fine with a little practise now.” she groaned against his lips as she felt his tip slipped in, stretching her once again.

this one was quicker, she was already sobbing mess, clutching desperately on his chest as he chased his high.

the deeper he pushed into her, the faster he had to circle her clit. he’s not a selfish lover, he wants her to feel as good as him too, despite being borderline torturous as she was clearly an overstimulated mess. “you’re so good to me,” he hummed, “you take me in so well. i love the way your tight cunt suck me in.” she really was, with mouth apart panting his name, eyelids drooped, and fingers dug into his flesh with legs apart.

she’s his good little girl.

she nodded, soft mewls could be heard through her pants. the wet kisses he was peppering her skin soon turned into a desperate attempt to leave a mark. she was beyond exhausted to berate him for doing it, so she learned to enjoy the feeling of his fangs against her flushed skin.

“toru, it feels so good,” she rolled her eyes back and he hummed in agreement.

gojo held her throat, not too harsh but not exactly gentle too, “it does, does it?” he grinned, “come, clench around my cock, y/n chan," he teased, in a sing-song tone, "i’m about to fill you up to the brim.” he tightened the grip, she whined. the way the walls tightening around him, had the world strongest’s sorcerer a moaning mess, as his hips snapped faster.

the sound of their skin slapping each other got louder and louder with the squelching of her cunt. his eyes rolled to the back of his head, as he forced his cock all the way inside, his thick seed shooting directly into her womb. his grip on her waist tightened, he was all choke up. they stayed in each other’s arm, struggling to catch a break.

he pinched her cheek for the fun of it, seeing her annoyed and bothered for his own personal pleasure. “what luck you have, y/n. falling in love with someone like me,” he brushed the tear stains on her cheek.

“who said i love you?”

he pressed his hand on his chest, faking the pained look on his face with an ouch. it was never an exchange of i love yous between them; it was him annoying the fuck out of her and her being constantly concern by his childishness. “would you still come home, y/n. i miss you so much, no lies.” he asked as he pulled his pants back up. "i will," she promised. he helped her off the desk, cleaning the mess they’d made and her chasing him around for her pair of panties. she never got it back, her face was as red as her stilettos as she made her way out of the office bare under her skirt. she could hear him snickering behind her.

“c-cancel the rest of my day please, sara. i have some business to take care off,” she glared at the white-haired man running toward the elevator. lunch time was over, and she was beyond fucked to continue her work. literally. not when gojo had made sure to give her the fucking of her life, she couldn’t focus on her work no more. sara gave her a glare, a dirty one, as she eyed her skewered hair and wrinkled clothes. she placed the files on her assistant’s desk, rushing as gojo held the elevator opened.

she made in, jumping instantly in his arms as the door closed. it was just two of them in the empty lift.

she giggled in his arms; his huge smile was contagious. he kissed her so gently, thumb on her back rubbing shapes. his smile grew wider as they pulled away. she tilted her head, confusion on her face and he nudged his head to the door. she turned around only to see their reflection on the elevator’s door. “look closer,” he whispered, and her eyes widened as she realised a trail of his cum, peaking out of her skirt down her legs. her face got even redder as she wasn’t sure if it had just happened or gojo has been letting her walk around with his cum down her legs.

“i’ll murder you, satoru.”

the lift suddenly halted. the number stopped at the ninth floor and she cursed. the lift wasn’t malfunction; she knew exactly what he was doing, and he wasn’t even trying to hide it.

“not going to lie, seeing my cum down your legs, it looks hot,” he said sheepishly, a kiss on her cheek while his hands already made their way underneath her blouse. his brows raised up suggestively.

“will you stop thinking with your dick, satoru?”

“you still owe me two more orgasm, buttercup.”

the light of the lift suddenly tripped, engulfing them in a pitch-black darkness. she jolted in his arms. the emergency light turned on and under the dimmed light, she could see his blue eyes on her like a predatory to its prey. she could feel her throat drying as a kiss landed on her neck.

“we better make our time worth.”

[butwhyduh]

Last night thing

Jason todd x reader

Summary: he stopped you from stealing a $25,000 watch but missed something else. Part 2 to Late night Thing.

Warning: kidnap, fighting, smut

As Jason pulled up his pants and contemplated his life choices of sleeping with a beautiful thief on a rooftop, he came to a conclusion. You stole his damn tie clip. He had said that he would break your hand if you tried to steal it and dammit, you had. Somehow it simultaneously made him mad and horny. How the fuck had you managed that?

Jason knew that he wouldn’t find you that night. So he went back to his safe house to lick his wounded pride and plan his next move. He needed to get that clip back. It was a gift from Alfred and he would literally kill for it. Though he seriously doubted that he’d need to do that. And Jason would never admit it but he didn’t want to kill you.

He planned to find you sometime during the next week. His tie clip was expensive but not extraordinarily expensive but you had to find someway to sell it without him finding it, which would take time. Jason just didn’t know that it would be the next day that he would find you.

He heard that Bane was throwing his weight around in the drug trade for some damn reason. Wasn’t his venom addition enough for one man? So Jason was snooping around, or investigating as the bats liked to say. He fully expected a boring night of listening in a warehouse for hours and learning very little but instead almost fell through the glass at the sight before him.

You were strapped to a chair with rope. The pretty dress you wore the night before was in tatters but you were covered. Your eyes were red and your nose had dried blood underneath it. You were shivering like a leaf.

“I’m not here to negotiate with you. I’m here for Cat Woman. You are her child and she will come or you will die,” Bane said casually. You gasped.

“She’s going to be mad. Why would she work with you after this?” You asked, braver than you felt. He turned and coldly looked at you before stalking over. His giant fingers wrapped around your throat and you thrashed in the chair.

Jason stood up and moved to jump into the fight despite the fact that he really didn’t want to fight the brute. But Bane let you go and you audibly gasped and sucked air through open lips. You trembled and heaved.

“If she does not care about you, I will move on to her next kitten,” he said and you gulped. You didn’t know if she would save you. Jason looked through the room for a strategy. 2 exits and the skylight he currently looked through. 3 goons that he could easily take out. Oh, and a 300 pound juiced up super soldier. That broke Batman’s back years ago. Fuck.

“Let me go and I’ll do anything you want,” you said and even Jason up high in the rafters could hear the waver in your voice. Bane turned and stared at you and your mind almost couldn’t comprehend the massive size of him. He was easily half a foot taller than Red Hood and almost 100 pounds heavily and Red Hood towered over you.

“What could I possible want from you,” he asked with an icy curiosity. He was watching you for a reaction. You wanted to shrink away but that would be a failure.

“Anything you could want. Information,” you suggested. “About Gotham.”

“I have my sources.”

“Uhhh,” you breathed. “Gems? Money?” He shook his head. Your heart hammered in your chest. He was a man, right? You could sell that maybe? “Me?” You breathed.

He laughed before looking you up and down. “I do not want you carnally, child,” he said. You almost sagged in relief and Jason’s hand released the gun he didn’t know he was holding. “No. We will wait for Cat Woman and if she doesn’t come in 2 days, you are dead.”

You hummed in fear. Bane sat crossed legged and closed his eyes. He threatened to kill you and then fucking meditated. You helplessly pulled at the ropes on your wrists.

Jason tried to piece together how you got there and how to get you out. He knew that he couldn’t exactly call Bruce. ‘Hey dad, do you want to fight the guy who broke your back over a thief he has tied up. Why? I don’t know! I just like fucking her on rooftops!’ Never saying that.

Nope. Instead he would attempt stealth. Against one of the best trained fighters in the world for a woman that robbed him. Yea, maybe Jason should have stayed 6 feet under because he’s a fucking idiot. He sighed before slowly moving towards them. Bane was sitting cross legged with his eyes closed in a meditation back to you.

You suddenly saw Jason out the corner of your eyes and your eyes widened before going back to normal. Bane didn’t seem to notice the slight change in your breathing. Jason snuck over to untie you. He slowly pulled the rope from around your wrists and you were almost completely untied when the end of the rope barely grazed the ground.

Bane snapped his head around as Jason drew his guns. You gasped as Bane launched himself towards Jason. You ripped your hand out of the rope as bullets flew. You scrambled to the floor but was quickly pulled up by the giant man. He clutched you by the shoulder and you whimpered in pain. Jason suddenly froze.

“This is far more interesting that I first thought. I looked for a cat and found a bat,” he laughed. You squirmed in pain. He sat you down but the hand stayed on your shoulder.

“She’s not important. Let her go,” Jason said. The metallic voice from his helmet sounded bored.

“If she is unimportant, she is better off dead,” he said roughly pulling you in his arms and one hand gently wrapped around your throat but didn’t tighten it. You grabbed at his fingers and sobbed pathetically. Your eyes were wide and terror was plain on your face.

“Let’s not. Put the lady down and we can talk,” Jason said and it was weird to see Red Hood negotiating. He was usually the muscle in the situation. It really showed you how fucked you really were.

“Okay I’m intrigued. I will hear your proposal,” he said sitting you down. You scampered behind Jason. Your whole body trembled.

“I know Gotham underground better than you ever will. Sorry but you’re scary as shit but not in a good way,” he said with a shrug. If you didn’t know any better, he seemed casual. “I can get you the venom you need. No cost for a while.”

“How long,” Bane asked. He was the kind so get all the facts before proceeding. He also had the weakness of being completely addicted to venom.

“A months worth.”

“6 months.”

“3 months.”

“Deal. If you break this deal I will crush her windpipe with my hand,” he said with no emotion. It was a promise, not a threat. Jason felt you move closer to him.

“Deal,” Jason agreed. Bane moved closer and you clung to Jason. You were clinging to Red Hood. How pathetic. Jason stood taller and stared at Bane. They shook hands.

Suddenly Bane slapped Jason violently across the face and you yelped. Jason went to the ground but quickly got up to a defensive crouch. You jumped in front of him with your heart beating so fast you would soon faint.

“For invading my space and my business,” Bane said before walking away. “Leave.” He didn’t turn to watch.

You noticed a little crack in the Red Hood helmet. How hard did Bane hit him? Jason stood up and pulled you out of the warehouse with him. He quickly grabbed you and shot his grappling hook out of the area. About half a mile away, he landed on a building. You clung to him and trembled.

“Hey, you’re safe,” he said. “You can let go.”

You pulled off but shivered like a leaf.

“Shit, you’re cold. Here. Here,” he wrapped his jacket around you and it helped your temperature but not your shivering. “Come here,” he pulled you in his arms and you clung. His heartbeat felt reassuring and he awkwardly patted your hair. You could tell Jason wasn’t used to providing comfort.

“He- he,” you started but stopped. “Can we go somewhere safe?”

“Come on downstairs. This is my place,” he said and you nodded. You followed him inside and it was far warmer but you couldn’t stop the shaking. His jacket was replaced by a blanket and Jason sat you on the couch. The helmet came off but domino stayed on. You practically climbed on his lap to be closer. Your eyes were still wide with horror.

You’d been arrested, harassed, even shot at. But never kidnapped like that. And by the giant Bane at that. Jason could feel the fear and adrenaline coming off of you. He rubbed your back softly. You looked up at him suddenly after a few minutes.

“You saved my life. You put yours in danger to save mine,” you breathed. He shrugged, a little uncomfortable under your gaze. “Thank you,” you added.

“Uh you’re welcome. It’s no biggie.”

“Yes it is,” you said before kissing him. Your pace was dizzying and rough. Jason was in shock at first. Your hands roamed his body before dropped down to his belt and he almost jolted up.

“Not today,” he said, stopping your hand. “I mean, normally I’d love to but not now. Give it a few days.”

“Why?” You said with your voice all breathy. Your lips were swollen and eyes dark and he almost gave in.

“You were just kidnapped. You need sleep. Not sex,” he said sliding away from you. “Are you hungry?”

“Wh- you don’t think I could want you?”

“I’m not in the mood. Almost getting killed by Bane really kills the urge,” he lied. If he thought you were in your right mind, he would have fucked you on the rooftop or against the first surface he found. You jumped in front of Bane for him. He found it all incredibly hot. “You need a shower anyways.”

It was cold and cruel but better than sleeping with a traumatized woman. You shook and nodded before using his shower. Jason felt twinges of guilt but ignored them. He knew it was better this way.

You came in nothing but his t shirt that hung like a dress. “Nothing else fit,” you said awkwardly. He could see the scars that covered your legs and bruises around your throat.

“We can lay in bed,” Jason said just as awkwardly. He might know what to do with a woman who wants to fuck him but not just one sleeping over. “For sleeping.”

“Don’t worry. I won’t try anything,” you said with a little smile and he smiled back. You both laid in the bed and it wasn’t long until you pressed your back against his chest and pulled his arms around you. He was strong and safe. You managed to sleep all night with the anticipated nightmares. They had time later to come up. When you weren’t cradled in his arms.

The next morning you woke up warm. The rise and fall of his chest was comforting. His hand held your waist loosely and you could seriously just stay in this moment. But as soon as you moved, you almost giggled like a teenager. He was hard and pressed against your ass.

“Ignore that,” he mumbled.

“Okay... how?” You said after a few seconds. “Because it’s pretty unforgettable for the man I like to sleep with to have his hard dick pressed against my ass. Have to say.”

“We only did it once in a rooftop. Was it that unforgettable?” He said and you could hear the smirk he wore.

“It was alright,” you said playfully but you couldn’t help but press back into him. Jason grabbed your hip to stop you.

“Trying to get me horny?”

“I think you already are.”

“That’s true,” he said before grinding against your ass. You pushed back to do your own rubbing. “And you’re not even wearing any panties,” he said bunching up the fabric of his shirt you wore. He slapped your ass soundly and you gasped.

“What was that for?”

“My tie clip. I hope you still have it,” he said before slapping your ass again. You reached behind you to grasp his cock through his sweatpants.

“I’ll get it back to you,” you said. His pants were pushed down. Jason hummed and rubbed his dick between your thighs. You sighed at the sensation and arched your back so he was sliding between your folds instead.

“You’d better,” he growled but it had no true heat. Not when he was so close to finally fucking you and had his lips leaving little marks on your shoulder and neck. You tried to press back onto him but he stopped your hips.

“Do you deserve it,” he asked running a finger along your hip, every once in a while dipping between your thighs to barely touch your clit. You jumped and grabbed at his wrist to hold him there but he just chuckled and moved away from where you needed him. His thrusting between your folds felt amazing but not enough and he was purposefully avoiding sliding in your hole. Jason quite liked the way your body panted and curved in desperation.

Finally feeling that you had been tortured enough, and he wanted in your wet heat, he pressed his hips forward and filled you. You whimpered and leaned your head back against him.

“Yes,” you breathed. Jason took his time slowly thrusting, letting you fill his full length. His free hand moved from pinching your nipple to circling your clit. You were practically clenching him from the start and he loved it. You were so receptive.

It didn’t take long for him to find a pattern that just got you a little more vocal and focused on that. “God, you’re fucking wet,” he breathed in your ear and you whimpered. You seemed to like what he had to say.

“Taking me so well. Acting like such a good girl,” he said and you breathed out a “Hood” in response. Oh yeah, you didn’t even know the name of the man that you let fuck you. You trusted him enough to sleep in his bed and you’d never even seen his eyes.

His finger circling your clit and cock angled to drag along your g spot had you seeing stars as you came around him. Jason grunted and held your hips tight before quickly pulling out to cum on your ass. He looked as the pretty white beads covered your skin. He wasn’t forgetting that image any time soon. He reached for a towel to clean you up.

Afterwards you turned in his arms and kissed him soundly before lying your head on his chest. You reached up to play with his hair with a little smile on your face. Jason could get used to this. As soon as he thought it, he had the urge to jump up and kick you out. He didn’t do permanent. You were just having fun.

“I need a shower,” he said roughly, getting up. Jason couldn’t help but notice the disappointment on your face that you quickly hid.

“I should get going before my walk of shame gets any later,” you said with an awkward laugh.

“Borough anything you need,” he said before disappearing into his bathroom. While in the shower he had time to think. Yeah, I’m totally not broken to be cool with fucking a woman but not being able to hold her. Not a sign of being fucked up at all, Jason thought. Probably got that from Bruce. Though my real dad probably did it too.

He came out of the bathroom with a towel around his waist and immediately saw a note on the bed.

Had fun, Hood. We should do it again sometimes, (your number)

💕 Kitten

His tie clip was set underneath it. Jason smiled. Okay, this could be fun. He was young and sowing wild oats or whatever, right?

There was no way this could go wrong, right?

[accursedkaleeshi]

Fyerri

For those of you that don’t remember when I drew an asiil (big chicken) sitting on a random Grievous baby & dubbed him guy-fieri-lasagna baby here is the link. Boy gets lore today for day 3 of TB’s Kaleesh Week! Tusks.

        TL:DR: That’s Fyerri. He was Bryaru’s first born. The first but not the last of Grievous’ newborn infants that he took one look at & said “My child! Looks like [food] :)”. When he was a child he tripped & ate absolute shit, fucking up his rapidly growing tusk matrix (like a nail bed). He was very upset but dad made him feel better. Goofy looking kid grew up to be still slightly goofy looking adult with a whack tusk.

Fyerri was Bryaru’s first born! He joined his siblings around 33 BBY. When he was itty bitty, he just looked like that. The family asiil (big dino chickens) liked to steal him because, with his little orange pinfeathers, he was obviously just a chick.

        As a child, around five or six, he was in the green house doing chores with a similarly aged group of sibling when they heard fahyr was home. Naturally they all ran out the door to go see him. As is wont to happen when you get a gaggle of long limbed children together, one fell & took out a couple others. Fyerri, unfortunately, face planted on a slight incline.

        Grievous was not unused to being greeted with such fanfare. When Fyerri peeled himself off the ground he started making a high pitched noise in the back of his throat. You know, that kind of noise kids make when they get hurt & are about to lose it. Grievous stepped over the kids, motioning to them to stay there for him.

        He stepped up to the wives that had come out of the greenhouse & said, “Fyerri ate dirt, but hurt himself. Do not laugh, we have to be supportive.”

        “Why would I laugh?” Lyx’al had said, looking mildly concerned. Jyada already had her mouth pressed shut with Grievous looking directly at her. Listen. Kids falling down is just universally funny.

        Fyerri was at first mortified to have biffed it in front of dad but then began to realize he was actually hurt. His siblings helped him up & brushed dirt off of his little outfit. He tried not to cry but one of his sisters repeating “oh no” did not make him feel better.

        By the time Grievous stepped back & picked him up, Fyerri’s big orange eyes were swimming. When Grievous sat him on a table in the greenhouse he was heaving. Dad came in front of him & to get a look. The boy had taken his full weight on the left side of his face & abruptly bent his tusk in its mooring. Because he was just a kid growing very fast, it was much more flexible than an adult’s tusks but that also meant any damage done was likely to stick around.

        “You bent your tusk pretty good, Fyerri,” Grievous had said. While he moved the little tusk as far as he could in a reasonable direction to set the little audience of siblings reassured Fyerri that fahyr can fix anything. Grievous picked him up, holding Fyerri in his arms as a mother came up & put a cold press up to his little face.

Fyerri, now crying big round tears, sobbed between hiccups, “Now I’m never gonna have big tusks like yours fahyr!” His mothers shushed him reassuringly while he forlornly wrapped his little fingers around his father’s tusks.

“Oh? No, Fyerr, every other Kaleesh has tusks like mine. Boring, no? No one will have tusks like yours now, it seems,” Grievous said to him. Fyerri was not convinced of this at first & took awhile to warm up to the idea of being different. But he did eventually love it. Even when his father started another beloved family nickname by calling him “Comms”. His left tusk grew towards his mouth which reminded Grievous of microphone headsets.

Despite his awkward pin feathers & crooked tusk he did grow up to look pretty good. His confidence & his glorious mane of fluffy gold feathers did a lot for that. The title he uses primarily was Antiiskol, which meant Spine of Fire. It refers to his colors & his spirit. Being Bryaru’s first child, he was her excitable little co-conspirator. Direct action son. Helps out his mom’s rebel group & runs his own on-world. He encourages the harassment of stormtroopers & the Empire largely cut their losses with Kalee. Thus is the story of guy-fieri-lasagna baby.

[helheimraptor]

Love Story Gone Rotten - Sam Winchester x Reader

Warnings: Character death, angst, abuse, parent abusing child (kind of? More so creepy father/daughter relationship but one sided)

It was so fucking hard to find a gif where Sam was laying dead on the ground and not in Dean's arms - let alone find a gif of him dead...

"Close your mouth or you'll attract flies, let's go."

I can't move, my body is frozen in place and he just wants to move on? He shot him.

He shot him before my very eyes, his lifeless body is laying before me bleeding out of his temple with a bouquet of flowers scattered beside him and a ring box next to his other hand.

"You coming, bitch?"

I whip my head around and look him dead in the eyes, "you killed my boyfriend, you killed Sam fucking Winchester!"

I storm towards him and shove him harshly.

"Don't push your father."

"You aren't my father," I spit at him. "You wouldn't have shot Sam, point blank in the face if you were."

His eyes go from offended to pure anger, "I'll shoot you too if you don't come with me, he was going to ruin your life."

"He was going to propose for fucks sake!" I shout.

I can feel warmth roll down my cheeks as I walk over to Sam's dead body.

"I'm so sorry Sammy, I wish it didn't end like this," I lean on my dead boyfriends chest. "I love you, baby."

I feel my 'father' grab me by the back of my collar and drag me away as my uncle buries Sam's body.

I thrash as he picks me up and I elbow him in the back of the head causing him to lose his grip on me and I run, I run right out the front door to my uncle where he finishes covering Sam's body next to my other exes...

I fall to my knees and cry, "why would you do this?!"

"It had to happen, sweetheart, you know that," My uncle replied as he grabbed my shoulder.

I shove him off and pull out my gun, "it never had to happen, you just didn't want me to be happy with someone that isn't you two creeps."

He raises his hands in surrender, "think about this, y/n/n."

"I have, I've thought about this for the last five boyfriends that are in that hole," I click the safety off. "Give me the car keys."

My uncle reluctantly hands them over and I shoot him in the knee and head to the car.

Fuck getting anything to survive, my wallet is in the car somewhere and well, someone has to tell Dean.

•

"Samuel Winchester I swear to the gods!" I shout through the bunker.

I had snuck out away from my father when Sam came to pick me up for a date and have been living with him for a week so far.

"What will you swear to them about?" Sam jokes as he holds my shirt above my head where I can't reach.

"I'll swear to them that you're shorter, hah!"

"You wouldn't."

"Maybe I'll swear that they make your hair fall out," I say and jump to grab my shirt while Sam is offended at what I said.

"Don't you dare!" Sam exclaims as he touches his hair.

"I so would."

I pull my shirt over my head as I walk to our bathroom and Sam grabs me around my waist from behind and picks me up, swinging me around and kissing my neck.

"Sam!" I laugh.

"What y/n/n?"

"You're an ass."

Sam replies by putting me down and kissing me passionately on my lips, he pulls me in by my belt loops and I can feel his hips against mine as we continue to kiss. I relax into his embrace and reach my arms around his neck.

We come apart to breathe and I whisper into his chest, "I love you, baby."

"I love you so much more than you realise baby girl," Sam replies with a quick kiss again.

I smile at him and run my hands through his hair and live in the moment, ignoring Dean's calls for us to come get breakfast.

•

I put the car into park as the bunker garage closes and I rest my head on the steering wheel.

I hear Dean approach the car and talk to me but all I respond with is a sob as he opens my door.

I fall into his open arms as he sighs heavily.

"What happened," I hear Dean whisper into my hair.

"Same as the others, Sam's dead Dean, my father shot him in the head," I sob even harder into my future brother in law's arms. "He was gonna propose Dean and he got met with a bullet and heaven."

"Shit."

Dean carries me into the bunker and puts me down on the library table.

He starts pacing the library as I calm down enough to talk.

"I wanna kill that son of a bitch."

"I know Dean, so do I, I'm gonna get shot if I go back as well though."

"Who said you had to go back?"

I think for a second and look down at my hands in my lap and feel Dean's hands grab my shoulders.

"I shot my uncle in the knee after he, after he finished burying," I take a deep breath. "Sam."

"How about you wait in the Impala while I go in and do it for both of us?" Dean offers.

I nod softly and he chuckles slightly before heading off to pack a bag.

I head to Sam and I's old room to clean up a bit, I'm covered in mud and blood and tears.

I change into a pair of jeans I have at the bunker incase of emergencies like this and pull over one of Sam's shirts and wipe away my tears.

"Y/n let's go, hun!" Dean shouts.

I follow Dean to the Impala and he hits the gas as hard as he can.

•

"Sammy, it's perfect!" I exclaim as I look at the picnic he's set up for us for our three year anniversary.

I get a reply in the form of a kiss on my shoulder.

"I knew you'd like it," Sam replies with a smile as he drags me to the blanket.

I lay down in the sun as Sam hands me a sandwich and he stares at me.

It's the one time I've felt pure peace in the life we have, we're semi retired hunters now because, Sam and I don't wanna risk what we have.

Even then I rarely feel peace like I am feeling now.

•

We pull up to my fathers property, Dean grabs my head and kisses my head before he gets out of the Impala with a shotgun in his hand.

I look at where they buried Sam's body and start crying again. I can hear punches being thrown and bodies hitting walls and Windows smashing and finally two gunshots. One for each man in that house.

Dean staggers out, covered in blood but victorious. He sees the fresh dirt and goes over to pay his respects.

Dean heads back to me and gets into the Impala and pulls me into him.

"Should we burn his body?" I ask and break the silence.

"We should, but maybe this once we won't, just to see if he comes back, and if he doesn't we'll burn it," Dean replies as his head rests on mine and he looks at the hole of bodies that's been created.

All of those dead men are my fault and the one I truly loved is dead cause of me and my asshole father. I didn't have a choice but to stay or be threatened with death. He shot me in the shoulder as I ran off with my first boyfriend. Which was when the killing started. I was 14. I'm 36 now. He did it for each boyfriend to make sure they never took me away from him because he wanted his little girl around him all the time.

Dean reverses the Impala and I scoot away a little so he can drive but he pulls me back in and puts an arm around me.

"We'll make it work y/n, I promise you that, you're free now," Dean says as he focussed on the road.

I can hear my fathers words in my head.

"Romeo's gone now, get up and go live your life, forget about him, you'll be fine."

I slowly fall asleep as Dean drives and pray that Sam can hear me as I think to myself.

I know your soul's in the sky now, I can't go with you Sammy, it's agonising, if you're not here then I'm so done with trying...

~~~

[lena-in-a-red-dress]

Lena blinks from her stare. Her mother doesn't take her eyes from young Lena, not even when Lena begins to close the distance between them.

"This... isn't real."

"Isn't it?" Elizabeth returns. Her head tilts. "Perhaps it is as real as you want it to be."

Lena scrunches her eyebrows together. "That doesn't make sense. But nothing has, lately. Why should you?"

Her mother smiles then, her eyes sparkling in the late afternoon sun. "You sound like your father."

Just like that, the air freezes in Lena's lungs. The warmth of the sun fades away, and her body stiffens, suddenly tense.

"Don't say that," Lena says, her voice strangled, almost a plea. "Don't you say that."

Elizabeth turns to face her, finally. "Why shouldn't I? You're as much his as you are mine."

"No." Lena denies it, shaking her head. Tears burn at her eyes. "No, I'm not, I-- I don't want to be anything like him, not after what he's done--"

"Lionel could be cold, at times," Elizabeth admits, taking Lena's hands in hers. "But he loved us as much as he could. And he offered you a home when I could not."

Lena jerks her hands away with a scoff. "He didn't love me. He-- he watched me grow into your spitting image and never once told me the truth about who you were to him. Who *I* was. He never told me! He died letting me believe that I was adopted! I sat there on his deathbed, and--"

Cutting herself off, Lena begins to pace. Her hands tremble, until she clasps them to make them still.

"I am NOT like him. I reject every part of him that is in me."

"Then you reject the very essence of who you are." Elizabeth stills her by meeting Lena on the return face, cupping her cheeks with both hands. "Florence tells me you have discovered your gift."

Lena rolls her eyes. "Not that I've actually managed to do anything with it--"

"Magic--" Elizabeth pressed on, "is the ability to exert our will on the physical world. In that sense, it is not all that different from what you did before you learned magic exists."

Lena huffs hopelessly. "I don't understand--"

"Hush." Elizabeth taps her finger to Lena's cheek. "You cannot change who or what you are: you can only choose what to do with what you've been given. YOU choose what effect you have on the world around you."

With a sigh, Lena closes her eyes. She'd believed that once-- before she lost her way, devastated by the grief of losing Kara's friendship; before Lex had rewritten the world erase every stride she'd made without him. She leans into her mother's touch.

"It doesn't feel like it'll ever end," she whispers, squeezing her eyes shut against threatening tears.

"Is that why you hold back? Because you feel it is futile?"

"It is futile!" Lena's eyes snap open. "I killed my brother and for what? For him to be resurrected and placed on top of the world he always wanted for himself?"

Lena swallows thickly. She had removed herself from Lex's reach out of desperation, in a hopeful bid that it would keep her out of sight, out of mind. But here she was, still tied in knots over him. She wasn't free of him. Not yet.

"Perhaps it simply means your fight does not end with his death." Elizabeth smiles upon her daughter. "Perhaps your fight is not with him at all."

Staring at her mother, Lena blinks. Before she can respond, her younger self comes pelting up the hill, a ragged stuffed rabbit hooked under her arm. "Mommy, mommy!"

Elizabeth pulls away from Lena to scoop the child into her arms. Though Lena still struggles to understand, she can sense that her mother has fulfilled her purpose. She can feel Elizabeth moving away, though she stands still in the grass, her young daughter propped on one hip.

"Wait!" Lena says suddenly. She crosses the distance between them, taking her mother's free hand in hers. "I love you," she says with her whole heart.

She looks at her younger self, who fiddles with a hole in one of her bunny's ears. Lena carefully reaches out, stroking the soft dark hair that falls around the child's face. A locked part of herself unlatches, filling her with warmth.

"Both of you."

She loves them both.

Elizabeth smiles, as brilliant as the fading sun. "You are everything I could have hoped for, Lena, and more. I am so proud of you."

"I miss you," Lena whispers. Finally, her tears spill over, running down both her cheeks. She squeezes her mother's hand.

The sun starts to set, but instead of fading to night, the scene simply fades. Her mother's touch lingers, though her hand disappears into shadow. Her voice, too, lingers in Lena's ears, beneath a growing roar of wind.

"I am here with you," Elizabeth says. "Always."

Lena bolts upright with a gasp, her heart pounding. She coughs, choking on air until hands steady her, clasping her by both shoulders.

"Lena? Lena, are you all right?"

"Kara..."

Lena's vision clears, adjusting to the shadows of the Tower at night. Kara kneels before her: it's her hands on Lena's shoulders, gripping tight like Lena might slip away if she doesn't. Nia is beside her, her features full of concern. Beyond them, Brainy stands at crisp attention, hands clasped behind his back as he waits for Lena to speak.

"I'm okay," she says.

Each of them heaves a sigh of relief. Kara wraps her in a hug, her hands pressing against Lena's back, but it's Nia who Lena looks for, whose eyes she meets over a caped shoulder.

"I saw my mother."

Her voice cracks, and suddenly the tears start flowing. Before she knows it, she's fully sobbing, heaving great wretched breaths against Kara's shoulder. Kara's embrace turns gentle, and is joined by Nia's hand on her back, rubbing softly in understanding.

She cries and she cries and cries, until she can't cry any more.