#room as a child it had to be the way she liked it. even my body had to be the way she liked it dude the epilation thing shed laugh as i

[entitled-fangirl]

Nesting.

Cregan Stark x pregnant!reader

Summary: the reader has nesting habits while carrying their child. It's worrying Cregan to no end.

Masterlist

A/n: based on an incredible ask! He's so girl-dad-coded. Sorry, but I said the thing and I'm not taking it back. Girl dad.

.......................................................

Cregan stepped into their chamber and paused. "My love, what are you doing?"

His seven month pregnant wife looked over her shoulder. "Tidying."

She was currently standing on her small vanity bench, now pulled over to the bookshelf where she had been wiping at the dust on the highest shelf.

His hands came up, ready to catch her at a moment's notice as his body moved closer. "Why, sweet girl? Why not rest?"

She sighed to herself. "The birth is nearing. I need to be prepared."

"Love, dust on a six foot bookshelf is not something the babe will be checking." He placed a firm hand on her lower back. "Why don't you come down from there?"

Though she didn't want to, fighting him was utterly useless. "I don't know if I-"

He had already grabbed her, keeping her in a bridal carry as he moved to the bed. The slight groan from her made him pause. "Your back hurting you again?"

"Never stops," she muttered with a hand over her forehead, "It's like your child enjoys his mother's suffering."

"His? You think a boy?" 

"It has to be," she whined. "It needs to be. I don't think I can take this many more times." When his face fell, a light smirk came over hers. "I can only clean the shelves so many times."

He scoffed in amusement. "You little minx." Usually a teasing comment like that would result in the two under the covers, but during this stage, it only made him more cautious of every move.

He set her down softly on the bed, taking extra care to hold her lower back.

She let out another groan at the movement but the ache subsided for a moment. 

"Sit tight. I'll have someone fetch something to eat." And he stepped out of the room.

It was only a minute. A moment even. But still, when he returned, she was sitting in front of the fire, leaned back on her heels.

"What are you doing?" His voice echoes sharply.

Her hands flinched back as if she'd touched the fire itself, her body turning as much as possible to him. Her eyes were watery. "You're angry," she whispered.

The burly man forced himself to take a breath. "I'm not."

"No, you are."

"Fine. I am. But love, what is this?" He bent down to her level and grabbed her wrists, showcasing the ash across her palms.

"It was… it was so filthy across the front here. I've been staring at it for days. I just need to finish-"

"-With your bare hands? With these pretty little hands you intend to wipe ashes from a burning fireplace?"

"Just the front-"

"-And now I've got to wash all of this off you, don't I?" It sounded condescending, like scolding a child, but the light twinkle in his eyes proved that he enjoyed caring for her even when it exhausted his efforts.

"I was only trying to to help."

Her watery eyes were causing his heart to ache with a slight devastation. "I know, I know. But you're too close to the flames for my liking. Our little pup will melt."

A silent sob wracked through her at the mere thought of harm to their unborn child. Harm that was her fault. 

"Oh, sweet girl. I didn't- I- oh, gods," he tucked an arm around her. "None of that. Let's wash you up."

"But the ash-"

"-When you get into bed, I'll handle the ash. Alright?" He asked quietly with a hopeful look in his eyes.

Her eyes searched his for a way to truly know he meant what he was saying. To wake in the morning to the sight of ash still in place was unbearable at the moment. "Alright."

"Alright," he confirmed with a relieved smile. "Alright. Let's get you up, yes?"

She nodded as he he helped her up and sit on their sofa. He held her hands palm up and gave her a stern look. "Stay here." 

He moved to the small water basin by their beside and dipped a cloth in it, soaking it completely before moving back to her. 

He cradled each hand gently as he wiped at the ash on her hands, taking care to wipe as much as he could. "Ash is dangerous, my love. I want you to tell me next time you want it cleaned."

"I thought I could do it quickly," she explained.

"Just promise me you'll tell me what you want done rather than doing it yourself. I don't want you to overexert yourself."

She heaved a defeated sigh. "Alright."

He kissed her forehead. "Thank you. We'll wash you and get you to bed."

…

A week had passed in which Cregan had constantly ushered her to their bed, the nearest seat, and even having her sit in his large seat during petitions as he stood next to her.

But today he had yet to see her, and he began to miss her. 

The moment the petitions ended, he excused himself to his solar, where he knew she'd be cuddled up with one of her few books.

He was right. The door opened, and he grinned at the sight of his wife with his cloak wrapped around her, reading away at the book he was sure she'd read at least seven times now. "Enjoying yourself?"

Her head shot up. "I didn't expect to see you for another few hours."

"I finished early. You know I can't stay away for too long."

She set her book away as he entered the room. 

He kissed her softly and rubbed his thumb across her cheek. "What did you do with your day, pretty girl?"

She fidgeting with her hands. "I read quite a bit. That's all."

His brows twitched. "That's all? Just reading?" He knew better.

"Just that."

He ran his tongue across his front teeth. "If I go into our chambers, I won't find anything different than it was this morning?"

Her eyes widened. "Don't-"

"See? I know you too well." He leaned down and kissed her again. "You can tell me now, or I can go see for myself."

"No, stay here," she said in an urgent manner. "Stay with me. I've missed you," she tried to cover.

He pretended to give into her, letting her pull him down by the grip she had on his doublet. He kissed her cheek then pulled away quickly. "I'll be back."

"No, wait."

Cregan was already gone, moving swiftly to the bedroom and tossing the door open. Laid across their bed was an abundance of furs. Every cloak they owned but the ones they currently wore. Every fur blanket made for them was thrown on the bed. It all seemed messily done, but he knew better.

Not long after, the sound of his wife's footsteps came to his ears and he turned to meet her. "You've been quite busy."

"I'm only preparing, Cregan!" She whined. Her arms wrapped around his torso, her stomach keeping her from being fully against him. "It'll be any day now."

"You beautifully stubborn girl," he said with a shaking head in mock frustration. "You promised you'd tell me when you needed something."

"This is hardly a change. It was easy, I assure you."

"Love, I can't sleep like that. I burn like a furnace in the night anyway. This won't do any better."

"But the babe-"

He took her by the biceps, tugging her away from him. "The babe will be fine. The North is cold, but Winterfell is warm and comforting. Now please. Let me remove some of this from our bed."

Her eyes darted through the doorway to the bed and back up and him a few times in contemplation. "Fine."

"You sit over there," he pointed at their sofa. "And I'll do this."

She waddled over to the sofa, sitting down with a slight distain. 

Cregan began to throw cloaks and furs over his shoulders, inspecting each one in light amusement and annoyance. He threw looks to his wife occasionally when she would say, "Not that one." Or "Keep that one." He had managed to get most of them off the bed before he gave in. "You'll keep these three. Understand?"

She nodded. "And if I get cold?"

He sighed. "You have a warm husband. He won't let the chill touch you or the girl."

He took his leave, pausing with a smile when he caught her soft "girl?". But he left anyway, returning the furs where they belonged. 

…

Cregan was indeed right again, for she laid in bed in a small puddle of sweat. The heat was great in their shared bed, and her husband was right to correct her previous thought.

"What are you thinking so hard about?" the great lord muttered, his voice riddled with sleep. His eyes were closed peacefully, but even with no sight, he knew when his wife was troubled.

"Just-" Cregan's hand rubbed at her bump gently, urging her to continue. "A girl?"

He let out huff, pulling himself from sleep. "I know it's a girl."

"It's not," she urged. "It's not. It's a boy."

He peeked his eyes open. "I don't care what it is. But I know it's a girl."

She let out a disappointed sound and pushed his arm away, beginning to push herself up to sit.

"No. You need to sleep."

"I have to change things now. I'm not ready for a girl," she explained with a hurried tone. 

Before she could even move off the bed, Cregan had reached out and grabbed her, pulling her back to him and gently forcing her to lay back down. "There's nothing to change," he urged with his eyes locked on hers. "You've done everything right. The babe is loved and cared for, and the rest will fall into place. Yes?" When she didn't answer, he kissed her softly and tried again. "Yes?"

That was what she needed to hear. "Yes." She rubbed a hand over her shoulders in an attempt to soothe an ache. "Yes. You're right. He'll be fine."

"She'll be fine," he teased.

She sent an icy glare, making him close his mouth and lay back down.

"We'll just focus on today, alright? And today, you need sleep." When she had cuddled up to his side, he relaxed, knowing he had his entire world in his arms. "Just focus on today."

...................................................................

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[holysmokesblog]

The Gray Reunion

Vi x reader

Words: 1.5k

Warnings: Violence, mentions of illness, blood, slightly spicy kisses ;)

Summary: In the midst of the chaos, you struggle to help the people of the Lanes. The truth behind the disaster sparks a confrontation that will test your bonds

Note:English is not my first language, sorry

In the past few hours, your modest apartment had turned into chaos. At least a dozen people had knocked on your door seeking help, intoxicated by something you hadn’t seen in years.

They could barely fit into the small living room, which also served as your kitchen and bedroom, waiting for you to help them, coughing out toxic fumes. Everyone expected you, just as your father had done in the past, to help or offer a solution, but you were completely lost, fumbling with medical supplies that had been stored away for years.

"The gray," murmured an older woman who was holding her husband as he struggled to breathe.

"That’s impossible," you replied. "We haven’t had problems with that in years, the ventilation system..."

"Then there must be a leak," she interrupted, raising her voice before a violent cough cut her off. You watched as her hand was splattered with blood. She inhaled deeply before continuing, "I’ve been through this before, but we don’t have the years on us anymore. Your father treated it countless times. Doesn’t he have notes somewhere?"

You sighed in defeat. "I’ve lost most of Dad’s things over the years. All I have left is what you see." You placed the stethoscope on a child’s back to listen to his breathing. "There’s nothing I can do. We just have to wait for the lungs to clean themselves... and stay far from the leak."

A collective groan arose from the people packed into your small space. "And how are we supposed to do that? We live there! Where can we go?" Various complaints began to rise.

"I wish I had an answer for you, but I don’t. We just have to wait until they repair the leak."

"They’re not going to fix it! It’s those damn enforcers! They’re killing us to get to Jinx!" Another wave of murmurs rippled through the room.

You tried to remain calm. Could that be true? Were the people above really capable of poisoning everyone just to catch Jinx? Those above had taken so much from you already that it seemed entirely plausible. But then an image came to mind—Violet. She was in Piltover now, and she would never let this happen, not to the place that had been her home for so many years and still was yours. Right?

You continued your work, trying to calm the rebellion brewing in your living room, tending to the most severe cases of nosebleeds and eye hemorrhages. But there wasn’t much more you could do. Around three in the morning, the last person finally left.

Exhausted, you collapsed onto your bed, utterly defeated. Chances were, all the patients you’d seen today would return tomorrow with new symptoms. It was impossible to recover from the gray while constantly exposed to it. You knew that if it was a crack, it would take years to fix. And if it was intentional, if they were hunting Jinx... that would also take time. There was no way they’d catch her.

A knock on the door kept you from falling completely asleep. You cursed under your breath—new patients. Your father’s voice echoed in your mind, reminding you how he wouldn’t rest until he’d helped the last person who needed him. You repeated the phrase to yourself before getting up to answer the door, only to be met with a great surprise.

Vi stood there, but the most shocking thing was her outfit. She was dressed as a full-fledged officer, an enforcer. You couldn’t suppress a gasp of utter disbelief. You had spent years of your life together; you knew her story as well as your own, and never would you have imagined the possibility of her wearing something like that—not even as a joke.

"I’m truly surprised," you murmured. She scoffed in irritation. You stepped aside to let her in, and she dropped her new, heavy gloves onto your floor. You bit your lip to keep from scolding her.

The past few days had been madness: Vi’s return, the search for Jinx, and your responsibilities trying to honor your father’s legacy had left you with barely a moment to breathe.

"Lots of patients?" she asked, trying to start a conversation.

"Too many," you replied, collapsing onto the bed again. She still stood awkwardly in the middle of the room. "You can lie down if you want... Unless you’re scared of dirtying that pretty uniform." She let out a short laugh before lying down next to you.

"I’ve barely seen you since you came back... I don’t think I ever got to tell you how happy I am that you’re here... Despite everything."

"Yeah, I suppose the first hug you gave me said it all."

"I mean it, Vi," you said, turning to face her. "Everything got so hard, but now you’re here, and I feel like things will get better."

She smiled faintly. "Yeah, we just have to fix a few things, and everything will improve." She propped herself up to sit beside you. "You look really pretty," she added. "Those dark circles suit you."

You couldn’t help but laugh. For just a moment, all the bad things disappeared. It was just the two of you in your small apartment—no Jinx, no gray, no problems in the Lanes. Just you two. Without thinking, you leaned in and pressed a quick kiss to her lips. She froze for a moment.

"I thought you missed me," she teased.

"I did."

"That’s not a reunion kiss. This is." Without warning, she leaned over and kissed you deeply. You welcomed her eagerly—it was like a breath of fresh air, something rare where you’d grown up. The kisses grew more intense, and your hands wandered over her torso and back. Vi positioned herself on top of you, using her hand for support on your pillow. But she quickly pulled it back.

"What’s this?" she asked.

You looked to the side, confused, and saw a large bloodstain. You hadn’t even noticed it. You sighed. "I’m really sorry." You sat up slightly, but Vi didn’t move off you. You grabbed the pillow and threw it to the other side of the room. "It’s been such a complicated day with the ventilation cracks."

"Yeah, don’t worry. I’m not at my best, either."

"Doesn’t seem like it." You kissed her intensely again, and she adjusted immediately.

"When all this is over, we should go on a real date. Like dinner and all that cheesy stuff."

You laughed against her lips at her failed attempt at romance. "I just hope it’s soon."

"It will be," she declared confidently. "Once they catch Jinx, everything will get better, and life in the Lanes will change—just like Vander always wanted."

Vi’s hands slipped under your shirt as you shared another passionate kiss, but her words lingered in your mind.

"Wait, wait, no," you said, pushing her slightly so she moved off you.

"Oh, do you want to take control, doll?" she teased.

"Did you have anything to do with this?" She looked confused, so you pushed her again to sit beside you. "The gas? Was it you?"

Vi stayed silent, hesitant to answer.

"Is this some kind of joke? You’re poisoning us just to catch your sister?" you shouted, furious.

"Hey, hey, it’s not like that... I mean, yes, but not how you think."

"You bitch," you spat, jumping out of bed. "Do you even understand the damage you’ve caused?"

"Listen to me. We used the gray to clear the streets, to keep people safe," she tried to explain.

"Used? Who’s ‘we’? You and your new enforcer friends? Well, you didn’t protect anyone!" You exploded. "Do you have any idea how many people you hurt? At least fifty came here today!"

"She’s a murderer! She killed half the council, she—"

"She’s not a traitor," you cut her off sharply.

The room fell silent as you watched Vi clench her fists in anger. You’d struck a nerve.

"Did you really do this for her? Or did your new enforcer friend convince you?" you spat, unable to hide your disgust.

"Don’t call her that!" Vi’s hands grabbed the collar of your shirt, pushing you against the wall.

You stayed inches apart for what felt like ten seconds before she let go, though she didn’t step back. Her heavy breathing mixed with yours, and you could smell the perfume from her uniform—a scent impossible to find down here.

"Get out of my house," you whispered.

"You have to understand—"

"Get out!"

Vi sighed loudly, grabbed her heavy gloves from the floor, and walked to the door. You opened it for her, stepping aside. She crossed the threshold without meeting your gaze but stopped in the doorway.

"I hope your new friend is worth it." She didn’t turn around, just kept walking down the dark street, away from your home.

You couldn’t stop the tears from falling.

What had you expected? Nothing had stayed the same over the years.

You locked the door before collapsing into bed. Tomorrow would be another hard day in the Lanes.

[cherrygirlfriend]

touchy subject pairing: reader x exfiancé!rafe synopsis: seeing your ex-fiancé after four years. warnings: angst. mentions of a miscarriage, just pure agony! wc: 1.8k inspired by the song 'touchy subject' by peach prc.

a white baby gate fixed in my hallway stays haunting the house with the angels we made; sometimes, i dream, a decade away, we meet in a grocery store; you look the same, with just a few grey hairs. the blonde little girl who tugs on your shirt with your smile looks nothing like me.

it had been four years since you had last been on kildare island; four years of trying to forget the life, or the ruined bones of one, that you'd been escaping from.

after ending your engagement with your fiancé, you'd traveled all around the country in your beat-up truck, hoping to find a place where you'd belong; only to end up back in the outer banks. they say there's no place like home, and in a way, it was true. you can leave kildare island, but kildare island will never leave you.

"everything okay?"

you're startled out of your thoughts by the melodic sound of your mother's voice, and when she follows your gaze to the baby-gate attached to the door leading to the kitchen, her mouth twists into a frown. "i was meant to take that down before you got here..." she chewed on her lower lip, a pang of guilt almost punching her in the chest.

"it's fine." you shrug, trying to lift the ends of your lips into a smile, only for it to look artificial and rehearsed. "i should start unpacking."

"alright." your mother placed her hand on your shoulder, but should've been a comforting gesture, made you feel like you were underwater and the hand was simply pushing you deeper.

you stood alone in the living room of your apartment, the only thing to be heard of was the ticking of the clock your mother had already mounted on the clock, mixed in with the sounds of passing cars, so unlike the day you first moved into the apartment, yet so much like the day you were last there.

"you should keep the apartment."

"rafe, i can't do that. it's way too much, and i'm leaving-"

"it's already in your name." the man sighed, smoothing his hand over his shaved head; he looked so different than usual, the dark bags under his eyes making him look like he had aged ten years, his usually tan face almost pale. "you can do whatever you want with it. keep it, sell it, i don't care. it's yours. i never want to step foot in this place again."

your feet were almost moving on their own, the hardwood floor cold under your feet, leading you to that door, and even though you felt your blood run cold, every cell of your body telling you not to open it, you couldn't help but nudge the door open.

you didn't know what you were expecting.

stepping into the room, you let your hand trail over the soft-pink wall, still remembering the smell of paint.

"you know, you shouldn't be doing that." he sighed, leaning against the doorway. "i can just hire someone to paint the walls."

you roll your eyes, your denim overalls covered in the soft pink paint as the paint stained the white wall, "i want to do this. i'm not gonna hire someone to do everything for me when i'm perfectly fine doing it on my own."

"you're not-"

"hush." you pointed the paint roller at rafe, "i'm doing this. now pick up a paint roller or quit whining."

you look down at the crib, lined with white lace, picking up the brown teddy bear that used to belong to you when you were a child, brushing your hand over the fur, straightening the pink bow around its neck.

hung above the crib, was a picture of a couple that had just gotten engaged, wide smiles on both of their faces; a couple that had once been so familiar to you, but now, it was like you couldn't recognize either of the people in the photos.

it felt like everyone was staring at you as they walked past you; four years clearly hadn't been long enough to make the people of outer banks forget about you, and as you made your way towards the local cafe, you couldn't help but think about how long it'd take for the person you didn't want to know you were in town to find out.

you were strolling down the street, rafe's hand in yours, your fingers intertwined. you licked the ice cream cone, deep in thought, letting rafe take the lead.

"what's going through that pretty head of yours?" he chuckled softly, bringing your hand up to his lips, pressing a kiss to the back of it, your engagement ring glimmering under the sunlight.

"baby names." you shrug, "what should we name her?"

"do you have any names in mind?"

"i was thinking..." you pursed your lips, not sure if the name you had been considering would be appropriate or not, chewing on your lower lip as you turn your head to face your fiancé, an expectant smile on his lips and his brows lifted in question, "evelyn."

when the name left your lips, you saw his mouth fall open, and for a moment you thought that you never should've spoken, but after rafe cleared his throat, there was a clear smile on his lips, his blue eyes glassy.

"you- you uh, wanna name her after my mom?"

"yeah." you smile, squeezing his hand. "i do."

for the millionth night, you were laid in bed, looking through pictures, featuring the faces of the couple above the crib in the room next door. pictures with the man's arms wrapped around the woman's waist, ones of them holding hands, ones where one was pressing a kiss the other person's cheek, ones from the several midsummers parties they spent together, ones from halloween, thanksgiving, christmas...

the girl in the dress she had planned to wear on her wedding day.

"rafe, where are you taking me?" you laughed, the blindfold covering your eyes, "if the blindfold's for some kinky purpose, you better forget about it."

rafe laughed, continuing to lead you, his large hands on your waist, "come on, have a little faith in me. i'm not that bad, am i?"

"oh, you definitely are. just last week we were an hour late to ava's party because you just thought i was irresistible."

rafe snorted, "well, that's because you were." he pressed a kiss on your cheek, "you can take it off." he whispered, taking a step away from you.

untying the blindfold, you blinked a few times, letting yourself get used to actually being able to see again, only to be startled by the sight of your boyfriend on one knee in front of you, a small velvet box in his hand, "rafe...?"

you wiped away the stray tear that had left your eye without permission before it could reach your jaw, continuing to scroll through the pictures, knowing that it'd be yet another sleepless night, but when you saw a picture of her, you paused.

you weren't sure who was more nervous, you or rafe, even though you were the one in the examination chair, your shirt pulled up and your rounded stomach on full display. his hand was tightly gripping yours, the man's jaw clenched.

"let's take a look, shall we?" the ultrasound technician smiled, and you nodded, feeling her spread the cold gel onto your stomach, a slight yelp leaving your lips, making rafe squeeze your hand even tighter. you looked to him, nodding reassuringly, speaking softly, "it's okay."

rafe's grip loosened slightly and he softened his grip, both of you turning your heads to the screen, and the moment you saw the little lump on the screen, you couldn't help but feel tears stinging in your eyes.

"look. that's our baby."

"shit..." rafe stared at the screen wide-eyed, letting out a low breath, "that's our baby."

just like on any average day on the island, the sun was shining, your skin radiating with warmth as you walked down the street, looking in through shop windows; it had been a few days since you'd first stepped outside, and it seemed like your arrival had become widespread news, and you didn't receive as many stares as you did before.

you arrived at rafe's door, bringing your hand up and pounding on the door before you could stop yourself and chicken out for the third time that week. you were a wreck, unable to sleep, to think about anything other than how much you knew you needed to talk to rafe.

you waited, tapping your foot against the ground and biting down on your lip, when finally, the door slowly started opening, a small smile forming on rafe's lips when he realized that it was you.

"hey baby," he chuckled softly, placing his hands on your waist, "you miss me so much you couldn't even text me to let you know you were coming?" he grinned.

"i have to talk to you." you pull away from his embrace, taking his hands off your waist, the blonde looking down at you with furrowed brows, crossing his arms in front of his broad chest, clearly alarmed by the slight frown on your lips.

"what's wrong?"

"i'm pregnant."

without even realizing it, you had stopped in front of a jewelry store, gazing inside at the things on display as you were going down memory lane inside your head. you let out a small chuckle, about to step back and continue walking, when your blood ran cold, the smile fading away from your face, feeling as if someone had stabbed you in the heart.

to anyone else, it would've just been the backs of two random people. but even without seeing his face, you could recognize the only man you'd ever loved no matter where you went.

his short-sleeved white collared shirt was tucked into his dark jeans, riding up slightly as he ran a hand through his hair, having grown out slightly since the last time you'd seen it, his signet ring on his middle finger.

you saw him let out a chuckle, and you could almost picture how it'd sound, his hand going to rest on the back of the person he was with.

a younger woman smiled up at him, and even just from her side profile, you could tell that she was gorgeous, her flaming hair flowing over her shoulders, the smile on her face genuine, matching his.

and when you saw what she was holding up and showing to him, the knife in your chest was twisted.

an engagement ring.

[woso-dreamzzz]

Foxes III

Jenni Hermoso x Child!Reader

Summary: You don't like touch

Spain loses to Japan.

A four nil defeat that leaves everyone a bit depressed.

Football's a boring game to you so you didn't really watch it despite sitting on the bench. Football is Mami's whole life though. You know that and you know this defeat will make her feel a bit sad.

You think that's kind of stupid because it's just a game but maybe it's different when you play a game as an adult. You don't know why it would be different but you decide that it must be because the whole team seems a little depressed about it.

"It's like when you lose a fox toy," Tia Ale says to you on the ride back to the hotel.

"I don't lose my toys," You reply, staring out the window.

"Well, if you did-"

"But I don't."

"What about when you left Roja at home?" Alexia says," Your Mami said you were sad about that. This feels like that to everyone else."

You were very sad when that happened. You missed Roja like crazy for ages after you first moved to Mexico. That must be how everyone is feeling now.

You head bobs up and down in agreement. "Okay."

You don't ask anymore questions on the ride home and Mami takes you straight up to your room for bath time. She wraps you in a nice fluffy towel before helping you into your pyjamas.

Dinner will be soon though so she throws a jumper on top of your pyjamas to keep them clean so you can go straight to bed after you've eaten.

Your hand closes around one of your foxes before leaving the room.

The girls are still a little sad, even you can tell that and you're not very good at working out what other people's feelings are.

You're the only one that's enjoying dinner which is seriously saying a lot because the food here is weird and you're very picky with what you're eating.

"Mami," You say," You still sad?"

Jenni's a little shocked at being addressed so openly. You don't like doing that in public. You're fairly silent around other people. She frowns.

"A little, osita," She says," Why? Are you feeling sad too?"

"I'm not sad," You reply. Your fork scrapes the plate wrong and you cringe, a whole body shudder going through you as you set down your cutlery.

Slowly, you shift in your chair before standing to approach Jenni.

Like your speaking, you're not big on touch either, at least in public. Jenni's used to you hanging out by her legs at home because she always wears the softest trousers and you like touching them but skin on skin had never been a big desire or need of yours.

Jenni has a hard enough time getting you to accept affection at home. She's already ruled out touching in public apart from hand holding and that was only because the alternative was a leash and you felt that was too restricting and made you breath funny.

But you curl into her lap now and give her a quick squeeze that bore some semblance of a hug. Jenni's too shocked to hug you back, jaw slack as you slip off her lap.

You go to Tia Ale next, clambering up into her seat with her and giving her a quick hug that's so fast that she doesn't realise what's happening until it's over.

Irene is next and, after seeing Jenni and Alexia go through it, she's fully prepared. But the moment her arms curl around to hug you back, you're wiggling away and already on your way.

Just because you're giving out hugs doesn't mean you need to be hugged back.

Codi's after Irene and then Mario, who both know now to allow their arms to go limp when you hug them. You go through all the Barcelona girls you know before coming straight back to Jenni.

You tug on her hand and she very gently takes yours in hers. She's slow and careful just in case you want to pull away but you let her hold your hand.

"Mami," You say.

"Yes, Osita?"

"With me...please."

Jenni stands and you lead her over to the girls in the team you've missed out, the ones that you don't know as well as the Barcelona girls. You drop Jenni's hand to hug each girl before squeezing Jenni's hand the moment you can hold it again, you other hand coming up to run your fingers over her comfortable trousers.

"That was a very nice thing you did at dinner," Jenni tells you as she tucks you into bed that night.

"Yes. Tia Ale said so," You reply, getting all snuggly and comfortable with a fox under each arm.

"Tia Ale is right," Jenni says," Your cuddles really cheered everyone up."

"Not sad anymore?" You check and Jenni nods.

"No one's sad anymore."

"Good."

Jenni presses a soft kiss to your forehead and pulls your covers all the way up. "Night, Osita. I love you."

"Love you too."

[slaytheusurper]

⭑ Ānogar ānograro ⭑

Translation title: Blood of my blood

Masterlist

Request: Yes, this one

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Newlywed!Niece!Reader

Warnings: Porn ofc, Aegon being an ass, High Valyrian dirty talk, Aemond having a breeding kink, sex addiction, Alyssa x Baelon wedding night inspo, kissing, p in v sex.

Summary: Aemond was obsessed with his niece, and now she was officially his, his to breed, his to claim and the entire Red Keep gets to enjoy it too!

Word count: 1.3k

The sun was shy that morning, its pale rays slipping timidly through the heavy crimson drapes that adorned the chambers you now shared with your new husband. The room smelled faintly of dragonfire. It was a mingling of stone, ash, and something distinctly Aemond—a scent you couldn’t yet name, though it lingered in the furs and pillows that surrounded you.

You stirred first, blinking against the soft glow of dawn. For a moment, you forgot where you were. The bed was grand, with its towering posts and velvet hangings embroidered with dragons in flight. Your fingers idly traced the scales of one such dragon as the memories of last night came flooding back. The ceremonial feast, the vows spoken before the lords and ladies of the court, and finally, the intimacy of your union.

“Look at you, sucking in my cock like a whore from Flea Bottom, are you sure you’re a maiden?” You could only nod as he fucked into you on top. The whole bed slamming against the wall with his rough thrusts.

Heat rose to your cheeks as you recalled the way Aemond had looked at you then. His singular violet eye had been piercing, yet cautious, as if you were something fragile he feared might shatter under his touch, yet he couldn’t control himself. And now here you were, lying beside him in the aftermath of it all.

Aemond lay still, his chest half-turned to you. His silver hair spilled like molten light across the pillow, stark against the dark linens. The blanket had slipped to his waist, revealing the expanse of his bare chest. Eye patch on the nightstand and sapphire glimmering in the morning rays.

Your new husband shifted behind you. The bed was so warm and comfy and the way he was holding you was right out of a dream. You smiled to yourself when he peppered your neck with kisses.

“Good morrow my beautiful wife.” He grumbled lowly in your ear, making goosebumps ripple over your skin. “Good morrow, husband.” He too smiled at your words, and his grip around your waist thightend. You could feel his half hard cock bare against your own nude form.

“I’m going to fill you with my seed as many times as necessary, you’re mine now and I will not stop until your belly is swollen with my child and even then I would not stop.”

“What are you thinking about my love?” His honeyed voice pulled you from your thoughts. “Nothing- just last night, the ceremony and the feast…” He chuckled at that, his cock hardening fully at the thought of how your walls clenched around him last night.

“You mean when I split you open on my cock?” His words made you blush and hide your face in the pillows. “Don’t be shy now my love.” Aemond mumbled in your neck, placing some kisses to make you face him. Once you did he wasted no time in crashing his lips against yours.

Already hungry for another taste of your lips. He turned you sideways and then on top of him, grabbing your arse cheek and smacking it, making you gasp. He took the opportunity to slip his tongue in your mouth, dizzying you with desire. 

You could already feel the pre cum sticking to your stomach, making butterflies swirl inside. He smacked your arse once more, recalling how loud you moaned for him last night when he first did it. You were both sure the entire Red Keep heard your coupling, but according to your uncle husband that was good. 

Everyone knew Aemond was secretly obsessed with his niece, he tried to hide it, hate her as he hated her brothers but that was quite hard for him. And so when your betrothal was announced he couldn’t hide the smirk at supper, making sure to send it Luke’s way. 

The wedding night was filled with love as well as passionate fucking, he had taken you two more times after taking you maidenhead, each time making sure to fill you with his seed. He was already obsessed at the thought of breeding you, even the morning after it already consumed his mind again.

“You’re still slick with my seed, do you think you could take me already now?” You nodded at his words, his hand now caressing your arse. “Good girl, so good for her uncle, aren’t you?” You whined, “Yes uncle, so good- only for you-” His thumb that was now circling your clit, made you lose your entire vocabulary. 

“Kessa ao sagon sȳz syt aōha kēpus bisa jēda hae sȳrī?” Will you be good for your uncle this time as well? You nodded again at his words. “Ȳdragon.” Speak. “Kessa kēpus, kostilus tepagon ziry naejot nyke-” Yes uncle, please give it to me. He smiled, “Sȳz riña.” Good girl.

Then you felt the tip of his cock grazing your hole, you were still sensitive from last night but you were already addicted to his cock, to his voice, his kisses and his smell. Without a warning he slipped inside, eager to feel your cunt again. 

“Sīr ȳrda syt nyke.” So tight for me. You moaned at his words, starting to bounce yourself on his cock. You had no patience either, and the one time you got to ride him last night was euphoric. You loved when he spoke your mother tongue to you, it made you feel close and connected to him.

But it was even better when he used it to whisper filthy words in your ear while you bounced on his cock. Skin smacking filled the room, as well as your mixed sounds of pleasure. You held steady against his chest, switching from grinding on him to bouncing on him. 

He grabbed your breasts in his hand, obsessed with the way they bounced up and down with your movements. Pleasure consumed both of you and you knew he was getting closer by the way he held his breath. He however held patience no longer and put his arms around you, holding you flush against his chest as he started to fuck up into you harshly. Making your walls contract and come hard around his cock.

“Kessa māzigon syt nyke- Tepagon nyke iā riña, hōzigon syt nyke-” Yes come for me- Give me a child, swell for me- He grunted, a sheen of sweat now glistening on his skin. You could only moan and whine above him, letting him take you. With a couple more pounds, he filled your cunt with a loud growl. Making sure to fuck his seed deep into you.

Your morning activities had made you both completely forget about the arranged family meal, you were to break fast with the king and his wife as well as your mother and father, not forgetting your uncle, aunt and siblings. The two of you rushed to get ready, both hurrying down the halls with a smile. 

When you entered the room, knowing looks were passed. Of course Aegon couldn’t help himself. “So...you don’t need to tell us how the wedding night was, we could all enjoy it with you.” He grinned. “Aegon.” Alicent warned. He just laughed. 

You blushed deeply, you were raised a kind and modest princess, and for your intimacy to be on display like this was quite embarrassing. Aemond held your hand and you joined them at the table, both of you praying that that would be the end of Aegon’s commentary, how wrong you were.

[rafeskai]

Life as We Know It — Rafe Cameron

Chapter One

Two opposites must navigate love, loss, and unexpected parenthood to discover the meaning of family.

Summary: When tragedy strikes, two very different individuals find their lives unexpectedly intertwined as they become the guardians of an orphaned child. As they navigate the challenges of co-parenting, balancing careers, and confronting their pasts, they discover that family can form in the most surprising ways. Through heartfelt moments and unexpected humor, they explore what it means to build a life together—one step at a time.

Pairings: Rafe Cameron x Reader

Warnings: Character deaths & angst.

Author's Notes: Inspired by the movie "Life as We Know It"! Let's pretend Rafe, Sarah, and John B. had a good relationship in this one, okay?

Masterlist: Here

Your phone buzzed on the kitchen counter, the shrill ring cutting through the early evening quiet. You were in the middle of folding laundry, your small apartment illuminated by the fading sunlight streaming through the windows. It was a peaceful, mundane moment—until it wasn’t.

You wiped your hands on a towel before glancing at the screen. Unknown Number. Normally, you’d let it go to voicemail, but something about the pit forming in your stomach made you swipe to answer.

“Hello?”

“Is this [Y/N]?” a man’s voice asked, calm but with an edge that made your chest tighten.

“Yes, this is she. Who’s calling?”

“This is Officer Langley with the Outer Banks Police Department. I... I’m afraid I have some difficult news.”

The world around you seemed to blur. You clutched the phone tighter, your knuckles turning white. “What happened?”

“There’s been an accident,” he said. “Sarah Cameron and John B. Routledge were involved in a car collision earlier this evening. Neither survived. You were one of their emergency contact.”

The words didn’t make sense. They felt foreign, like they belonged to someone else’s story. Your knees buckled, and you stumbled to the couch, sinking into the cushions.

“What about Willa, the daughter?” you whispered, your voice trembling.

There was a pause, and then, “She’s unharmed. The baby was with a sitter at the time. But there’s... another matter we need to discuss.”

You barely heard the rest of his explanation, your mind spinning with the weight of what he’d just told you. Sarah and John B. were gone. Gone.

When the officer mentioned the will, your thoughts screeched to a halt. “I don’t understand,” you said, your voice hoarse. “What do you mean ‘co-guardian’?”

“They named you and Rafe Cameron, her brother, as Willa’s legal guardians,” the officer repeated.

The line went quiet as you tried to process the impossibility of his words. Rafe Cameron? The same Rafe who couldn’t string together a week of good decisions if his life depended on it?

“Is... is he aware of this?” you managed.

“We’ve been trying to reach him. He’s next on my list.”

As if on cue, somewhere across town, Rafe Cameron was staring at his own buzzing phone with a mix of irritation and curiosity. The caller ID was unfamiliar, and he let it ring a few extra times before finally swiping to answer.

“Who is this?” he barked, already annoyed.

“Mr. Cameron, this is Officer Langley with the Outer Banks Police Department. I need to inform you—”

“If this is about the stupid noise complaint, I wasn’t even here last night,” Rafe interrupted, pacing his living room.

“It’s not about that.” The officer’s tone was grave, and Rafe froze mid-step.

“What’s going on?”

“There’s been an accident. Your sister, Sarah, and her partner, John B., were involved in a fatal car crash earlier this evening.”

Rafe’s mouth went dry. He sank onto the edge of the couch, gripping the phone so tightly it felt like it might crack. “What... what do you mean, ‘fatal’?”

“I’m very sorry for your loss,” the officer continued, his voice gentle. “They didn’t survive the collision.”

Rafe’s world tilted. His first instinct was disbelief—this had to be a mistake. But the silence that followed the officer’s words told him otherwise.

“And the baby?” Rafe asked after a long pause, his voice low and strained.

“Willa is safe. She wasn’t with them during the accident,” the officer said. “But there’s something else. According to their will, you and Ms. [Y/N] are named as her co-guardians.”

“What?” Rafe snapped, his disbelief quickly giving way to anger. “That can’t be right. Why would they do that?”

“You’ll need to meet with us to discuss the next steps,” the officer said. “I’ll send over the details.”

Rafe barely heard the rest of the conversation before the call ended. He dropped the phone onto the couch beside him, running both hands through his hair as his mind raced.

Co-guardian? With her?

It wasn’t long before your phone buzzed again, this time with a text from Rafe. His message was short and sharp:

“We need to talk. Now.”

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

The next few hours blurred into a painful haze. You and Rafe found yourselves sitting in the cramped office of the Outer Banks Police Department, a thin folder containing Sarah and John B.'s will resting on the table between you.

The room smelled of coffee and stale air, and the fluorescent lighting above only made everything feel more surreal. You glanced at Rafe from the corner of your eye. He was stiff in the chair beside you, his jaw clenched, eyes red-rimmed but steely.

Officer Langley sat across from you, his expression carefully neutral. Beside him was a lawyer, a sharp-eyed woman in a navy suit who looked as if she’d rather be anywhere else.

“The will is clear,” the lawyer said, her tone crisp and no-nonsense. “Ms. [Y/N] and Mr. Cameron are the appointed co-guardians of Willa Routledge. In the event of Sarah Cameron and John B. Routledge’s passing, the two of you are to assume all parental responsibilities.”

Rafe let out a dry, humorless laugh. “Yeah, that’s great. But let’s be real, you think either of us is qualified to raise a kid?”

“You don’t have a choice,” the lawyer replied without missing a beat. “Unless you want to contest the will, which would result in Willa being placed in temporary foster care until the matter is resolved.”

“No,” you said immediately, your voice firmer than you expected. “That’s not happening.”

Rafe shot you a glance, his eyes narrowing. “And what exactly do you think is going to happen here? You think we’re just gonna team up and play house?”

You didn’t have the energy to argue. “This isn’t about us, Rafe. It’s about Willa. She needs stability, and we’re all she’s got.”

Rafe rubbed a hand over his face, letting out a frustrated sigh. “Fine. Whatever. But don’t expect me to know what the hell I’m doing.”

The lawyer nodded, seemingly satisfied. “We’ll arrange for a formal meeting in a few days to finalize the transfer of guardianship. For now, Willa will remain with her current sitter until the two of you are ready to take her home.”

The word home hung heavy in the air, an impossible concept when everything felt so fractured.

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

The hours that followed were a whirlwind. After leaving the police department, you and Rafe were directed to the funeral home to begin arrangements for Sarah and John B.’s services.

Rafe took the lead, though it was clear the responsibility weighed on him. He stood stiffly in front of the funeral director, nodding silently as they walked through options for caskets, flowers, and the service itself.

“They’d want it simple,” Rafe muttered, more to himself than anyone else. “Nothing flashy. Just... something that feels like them.”

You could see the cracks forming in his composure, the grief seeping through despite his best efforts to hold it together.

“I’ll handle the guest list,” you offered softly, hoping to lighten his load in any way you could.

He nodded but didn’t look at you. “Thanks,” he mumbled, his voice tight.

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

Later, you found yourself sitting in the corner of the funeral home’s waiting area, scrolling through your phone to contact people who needed to know. It was an exhausting task, one that made the reality of the situation sink deeper with every call.

Rafe was pacing the room, his phone pressed to his ear. From the snippets of his conversation, you guessed he was calling his father, Ward.

“No, Dad, I’ve got it under control,” Rafe said, though his tone suggested otherwise. “I don’t need you coming down here and making it about you. Just... send what you need to send and stay out of it.”

The conversation ended with Rafe tossing his phone onto a nearby chair and sitting down heavily. For a moment, the two of you sat in silence, the weight of everything pressing down on you like a physical force.

“She didn’t deserve this,” Rafe said finally, his voice barely above a whisper.

You looked over at him, surprised by the rawness in his tone. His head was in his hands, and for the first time, he looked utterly broken.

“No,” you agreed softly. “She didn’t. Neither of them did.”

Rafe didn’t respond, and you didn’t push. Grief was a strange, solitary thing, and you knew better than to try to force him to share it.

But as you sat there in the quiet, Willa’s face flashed in your mind—those wide, innocent eyes that didn’t yet understand what she’d lost. And you realized that no matter how fractured things were between you and Rafe, you’d have to find a way to piece them together. For her.

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

The morning of the funeral was gray and cold, the sky heavy with clouds that mirrored the weight in your chest. The Outer Banks, usually vibrant and alive, seemed subdued, as if the island itself were mourning.

You stood at the back of the small church, clutching Willa to your chest. She was dressed in a tiny black dress that Sarah had once bought “just in case,” her soft curls pinned back with a white bow. She didn’t understand what was happening, her chubby hands reaching for your necklace as if this were just another day.

But it wasn’t.

The pews were packed with people from all corners of the island—friends, family, neighbors, even people who barely knew Sarah and John B. Everyone had come to say goodbye.

At the front of the church, two caskets stood side by side, draped in simple white flowers. The sight of them made your stomach churn, a wave of nausea rolling over you as the reality hit again. They were gone.

Rafe sat in the front row, his shoulders hunched, his hands gripping the edges of the pew. He was flanked by Ward and Rose, both of whom looked perfectly composed, their grief hidden behind practiced masks. You couldn’t help but feel a pang of anger toward them—toward Ward, especially. How could he sit there so calm when Sarah, his daughter, was gone?

The service began with soft hymns, the sound of the organ filling the air. The pastor spoke of love, loss, and legacy, his voice steady but kind. He shared stories of Sarah’s infectious smile and John B.’s unyielding spirit, painting a picture of the lives they’d led and the love they’d left behind.

When it came time for eulogies, Rafe surprised you by standing. He adjusted his tie awkwardly, clearing his throat as he approached the podium.

For a moment, he just stood there, staring out at the crowd, his usual bravado nowhere to be found.

“Sarah wasn’t just my sister,” he began, his voice hoarse. “She was my anchor. She kept me grounded, even when I didn’t deserve it. She believed in me when I didn’t believe in myself.”

He paused, his eyes glistening. “And John B.? He was... he was family. He took care of Sarah, made her happy in a way I couldn’t. He was my brother, even if I never said it out loud.”

His voice cracked, and he gripped the edges of the podium tightly, trying to steady himself. “They didn’t deserve this. They had so much left to give. But... they left us Willa. And I’ll do everything I can to make sure she knows how amazing her parents were.”

Rafe stepped back, his head bowed, and you felt an unexpected lump rise in your throat. For all his flaws, his grief was real, and it was impossible not to feel the depth of his pain.

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

After the service, the crowd filtered out to the cemetery, where Sarah and John B. would be laid to rest. The air was heavy with the sound of muffled sobs and the soft rustle of the breeze through the trees.

You stood a little apart from the others, bouncing Willa gently to keep her calm. Rafe was nearby, his hands shoved deep into his coat pockets, his expression unreadable.

As the caskets were lowered into the ground, you felt an ache so deep it seemed to hollow you out. Tears blurred your vision, but you didn’t wipe them away. Grief deserved space, and today, there was nothing to do but let it exist.

When the ceremony ended, Rafe approached you, his face pale and drawn. He hesitated for a moment before gesturing to Willa.

“Can I hold her?” he asked, his voice quiet.

You nodded, carefully passing her over. She went willingly, her small hands gripping the lapels of his coat. For a moment, Rafe just stared at her, his features softening in a way you hadn’t seen before.

“She looks like Sarah,” he murmured, almost to himself.

“She does,” you agreed, watching as Willa rested her head against his chest.

In that moment, standing beside the fresh graves of the people you both loved, it became clear that nothing about this would be easy. But as you looked at Rafe holding Willa, you realized that maybe—just maybe—there was hope. For her, you would find a way.

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

A few hours after the funeral, the weight of the day still hung heavy in the air as you and Rafe sat in the conference room of the law office. The small table between you seemed to represent the chasm that had always existed between you two—now more evident than ever.

The lawyers—two of them now, both stern-faced and clearly used to handling the messier sides of life—sat across from you, speaking in professional tones about the formalities. Child services was represented by a no-nonsense woman in her mid-forties who seemed to take notes every time either of you shifted in your seat.

Willa, still in your arms, had drifted off to sleep, her tiny breath soft against your chest. She had no idea that her life was being turned upside down today.

“Everything seems to be in order,” one of the lawyers said, flipping through the paperwork in front of him. “Guardianship has been transferred to both of you as per the will, and now, we just need to finalize arrangements for Willa’s immediate care.”

Rafe, who had been largely silent up until this point, suddenly leaned forward. His sharp eyes met the lawyer’s, and his jaw tightened as he spoke.

“We’ll be taking Willa home with us today. Both of us,” he said firmly, his tone brokering no argument.

The child services worker, Ms. Anderson, looked up from her notepad, her brow furrowed. “Mr. Cameron, I understand the circumstances, but we would like to ensure that both of you are prepared for the responsibility of guardianship. Willa’s safety and well-being are paramount. It’s important to assess—”

“I’m prepared,” Rafe cut her off, his voice cold and final. “I’m not asking, I’m telling you. She stays with me.”

The room went quiet for a beat as Ms. Anderson studied him. You could see the flicker of concern in her eyes as she turned to you, silently asking for your input.

You hesitated. Part of you was reluctant to let Willa stay in that house, with Rafe—the person who had been nothing but trouble for years. But the other part of you knew that, for better or worse, you didn’t have many options. You were in this with him now, and if he was willing to take on that responsibility, you couldn’t exactly argue against it.

“She’ll stay with me, too,” you added softly, catching Rafe’s eye. “But I don’t think it’s a good idea to let her stay alone with you, not yet.”

Rafe’s jaw tightened again, but this time, there was a flicker of something else behind his eyes. A flicker of understanding. “Fine. We’ll take her. But we’re doing this together. It’s not just your decision, [Y/N].”

You didn’t argue with him. He was right. This wasn’t just your choice anymore. You shared the responsibility, whether you liked it or not.

Ms. Anderson nodded, taking notes. “We’ll have to conduct an assessment in the next few days, and I’ll be following up regularly. But for now, if both of you are in agreement, Willa can go with you.”

Rafe stood abruptly, crossing the room and grabbing the folder of documents from the lawyer’s desk. “Good. Let’s get this over with.”

As he turned to leave, the lawyer called after him. “Mr. Cameron, please ensure that you maintain contact with child services for further evaluations.”

Rafe gave a terse nod without looking back.

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

The drive to the Cameron estate was a tense one, the silence thick with unspoken thoughts. You sat in the passenger seat, holding Willa close, her tiny body pressed against you as she slept. Rafe drove, his grip on the steering wheel tight as he focused on the road, the sound of the engine and the occasional rustle of Willa’s breath filling the quiet.

When you pulled up to the house, it felt like a different world. The sprawling estate loomed ahead, the grand, cold structure seeming to mock the chaos of the day. You could feel the heaviness of the house before you even stepped inside. It was too big, too empty. It had always been a symbol of something Rafe wanted, something that didn’t fit with the life you’d grown up with.

But now, it was where Willa was going to stay.

“Welcome home,” Rafe muttered as he parked the car and cut the engine.

You weren’t sure if he meant it sarcastically, or if there was something real underneath the bitterness.

He led the way up the stone steps, unlocking the front door with a swipe of his key. The house felt colder inside, and Willa shifted in your arms as the air conditioned chill wrapped around you. Rafe glanced over his shoulder.

“I’m not leaving her with you alone,” you said firmly, setting Willa down into the nearby high chair as you followed him further into the house. “You’re going to need help. You’re not capable of just doing this on your own.”

Rafe gave a sharp, humorless laugh. “Yeah, no kidding. I never said I was. But if she’s gonna be here, she’s staying in this house. So you’ll just have to suck it up.”

You weren’t sure how you were supposed to feel in this house with him—this house that was too much like a battlefield, and not enough like a home. But there was no escaping it now. You were stuck here together, as guardians. You took a deep breath and tried not to let the tension eat away at you.

For Willa.

"She’s still a baby," you murmured, brushing a stray curl from Willa’s face. "This isn’t about us. We need to figure it out for her."

Rafe didn’t respond, but he didn’t argue, either. He just stood there, watching you with that same unreadable look he always had. But for the first time, there was a sliver of uncertainty behind it.

And for the first time, you wondered if maybe—just maybe—there was a chance, however small, that you and Rafe might actually pull this off.

© 2024 rafeskai | All rights reserved. This fanfiction is a work of fiction inspired by characters from Outer Banks, and no part of it may be reproduced or distributed without permission.

[koenigami]

'cause my love, is mine all mine. tags : fluff, fem!reader, child!reader, reader accidentally turned into child, a little angst and brief mention of his past wc : 2k synopsis : a failed commission leads to wriothesley having to take care of a mini-version of the love of his life - Laughter and squeals echo through the large hall as Sigewinne leisurely skips her way up to the Duke’s office, the sight that awaits her at the top of the staircase planting a soft smile on her face. 

A slightly out-of-breath Wriothesley chasing a little girl around his desk, her h/c hair bouncing and flying back and forth as she tries to evade the man’s arms all while giggling and grinning as if there were no tomorrow. 

To anyone else, this would seem like any other normal afternoon on which the Duke spends time with his daughter, a carbon copy of you, and entertains every single wish of hers because he’s physically unable to tell her no. 

However, many things that occur in the Fortress of Meropide should not necessarily be considered normal. Because in fact, you and Wriothesley don’t have a child that looks exactly like you. Because said child is, as a matter of fact, actually you yet simply a younger version of yourself. How is that possible, anyone would ask? 

Well, let’s just say that your last commission with the adventurer’s guild didn’t exactly go the way you had hoped it to. While on expedition, your team had found a yet unexplored cave and stumbled upon a variety of ancient artifacts. 

By your colleagues’ reports, it seems like a look into a small hand mirror was all it took for your body to shrink, and your features to turn younger by two decades.

It has been almost 48 hours since Monsieur Neuvillette had visited him in his office, the young girl that had been tightly holding onto his hand immediately running up to Wriothesley as soon as her eyes fell on him. All it took was one single look at the Iudex’ apologetic expression, as well as one look at the child’s too familiar face to know that something must have gravely gone wrong during your mission. 

“Sigewinne!” You smile when you notice the Melusine quietly standing across the room. With an equally kind face, she waves at you before motioning Wriothesley to have a word with her for a brief moment. So, dejectedly, you watch as the huge man with messy black and greyish hair leaves you to your own devices. 

With a little pout, you settle down on his big fancy chair, fish out the markers that he had let someone bring for you, and continue the drawing that you started earlier while he was busy with some paperwork. 

You aren’t entirely sure what it is about him, or the other man with beautiful long hair who had brought you to Wriothesley in the first place but- Amidst the chaos in your head, and the fact that you can’t remember a single thing that happened before the past two days, something about them was comforting and provided you with a sense of safety. Especially the wolf-like man. He was nice. 

There’s a sudden warmth that settles on top of your head. With big, sparkling eyes, you peer up at Wriothesley who’s analysing the lines of your colourful drawing while his hand nearly engulfs the entirety of your head. “Is it okay if I leave you alone for a few minutes? There’s some stuff I have to check with Sigewinne. I won’t be too long, I promise.” 

He notices your eyes widen briefly before you start gnawing on the inside of your cheek and contemplate over his words. Ever since you’ve come back like this, Wriothesley has not been able to leave you alone for even a second, which you’re more than happy about because spending time with him is fun! Of course he doesn’t let on that the reason behind it is his worry about something happening to you, or you getting yourself in trouble, or someone else using your current state as an opportunity to hurt you. 

That’s why it pains him even more when he sees the brief look of reluctance in your eyes before you nod silently and go back to your drawing.

With a sad smile on his face, he sighs once he realises that even your younger self seems not to be any better at voicing her true feelings, instead opting to just swallow every negative emotion like a bitter pill. 

With a caress over your soft hair, Wriothesley leaves, and the sound of his thick boots as he descends the staircase echo through his office before the door falls shut behind him. 

-

True to his word, Wriothesley returns a quarter of an hour later, a small flacon in his hand which is supposed work as an antidote for whatever kind of higher power has cursed you. As much as he has gotten to enjoy your younger self’s presence, there is no denying that he misses the actual you. And the longer you’re staying in your current form, the more he frets about the possible consequences it could have for your body and health if you’re not turned back into an adult as soon as possible. 

Climbing his way up to his office, he can already tell by your panicked little murmurs that you must be up to something. If anyone else so much as tried to snoop around in Wriothesley’s sanctuary, the consequences would be grave. Yet the simple thought of little you stomping around, your eyes sparkling with curiosity as your small chubby hands open and close drawers, and pry open insignificant boxes and chests- He can’t help but smile with a little headshake. 

However, his smile immediately falls when he sees your slumped figure kneeling on the floor, surrounded by books and other objects that must have fallen out of the shelf and crashed down on the floor. 

You startle when he softly calls out your name, the picture in your hand shaking the slightest before you clutch it to your chest and turn your head to face him. 

Oh, you’re going to be in so much trouble. All you wanted was to have a look at the framed picture on the shelf, yet in your attempt to jump up to reach it, you accidentally knocked it over with other books and a little vase. And now everything’s broken. The vase, the frame. He’ll be mad. 

“Hey, what happened here?” 

“I-I’m sorry. I wanted to see the picture b-but-” Your lips wobble, tears fill your eyes, some of them already spilling over your cheeks, as your little body starts to quake with each sniffle and sob. 

Comforting words are already on his tongue, but when his eyes catch the broken pieces of porcelain and the glass shards, he immediately feels his blood pressure rocket before he gathers you in his arms. The cushions of the leather couch creak as he sets you down on it before his hands trail over your arms and legs, making sure that there aren’t any cuts or shards lodged into your delicate skin. “You didn’t hurt yourself right?”

Confusion etches itself clearly on your face, because why is he not yelling at you? 

At the light shake of your head, Wriothesley’s shoulder visibly sag as he sighs in relief. “That’s good. You have to be more careful, sweetheart.”

Your nose wrinkles as you sniff and wipe the snot off your face with the sleeve of the overly large shirt that you’ve got on. He seems anything but upset. He smiles gently at you, large and warm hands brushing over your cheeks to wipe the remaining tears away before he throws himself on the couch beside you. 

“You’re not mad at me?” You sound like a little mouse, and shyly look up at him through your wet and clumpy lashes. Instead of a scowl and disappointed expression, you’re met with gentle blue eyes and an expression that radiates so much reassurance and comfort that it only confuses you even further. Though, at his next words, you think you understand his reaction a little bit better. 

“Of course not. I mean it’s not like you knocked those things over on purpose, right?” 

The quick shake of your head earns you a thorough ruffle through your hair, paired with a content See? No biggy then, which finally loosens some of the tension and fear in your body. And as the thick paper in your hand crinkles the slightest bit, you realise that you have completely forgotten about the initial reason for this entire ordeal. You hold up the picture in front of your face, and decide to show it to him. 

“She… she’s really pretty.”

“Yeah?”

You shoot him an earnest expression, lips pressed tightly as you nod eagerly and hum. Wriothesley cocks a brow at you and a wide grin stretches his mouth, his hand again resting on your head. You like when he does that. 

“You know, sometimes she doesn’t believe me when I tell her how beautiful I think she is. Unbelievable, huh?” 

The way you gasp incredulously and look up at him with utter disbelief in your eyes almost makes him bite into your soft apple cheeks. “T-Then you have ta’ make sure you tell her more often. Until she believes it!”

Wriothesley seals his promise by hooking his pinky finger around yours, the difference in size making his heart melt into a muddle. And as you hum satisfiedly and return your attention back to the picture of you and him that has been taken a few months ago, he has to admit that as much as he misses the real you- He won’t miss this version of you any less. 

But the presence of the little flacon in his pocket burns in his pocket, and as Sigewinne’s words echo through his mind, he comes to the realisation that bed time is slowly but surely approaching. 

-

As the sun rises, and the fortress automatically comes to life again, Wriothesley is more than relieved to notice your long legs entangled with his, your arm fully able to reach around his waist and pull yourself closer to him. Giving you the potion before falling asleep just as he has been instructed to do must have done the work. However, as his fingertips brush over your cheek, he’s alarmed at the sudden moisture coating them. 

“Love? What’s-”

You’re awake. He notices when you bury your face further into his neck and refuse to look at him while tightening your hold on him. Speechless and with a still sleepy and hazy mind, Wriothesley instinctively buries his hand in your hair on the back of your head, the light massaging motions of his fingers seeming to calm you. 

With a wet sniff, you eventually pull back and allow him to have a look at you. The same pretty eyes, the same gorgeous smile, the same cute nose that he loves to brush his own against, but this time with slightly less chubbier cheeks and a more mature expression.

“Are you alright?” His body follows yours as you sit up without uttering a word, and instead proceed to wipe your tear stained cheeks. “How are you feeling?” 

The longer the silence between you lingers, the more Wriothesley becomes agitated. Could it be that the potion has any side effects? Physically, at least, you seem to be fine yet-

“I’m sorry. I’m fine, I promise. It’s just-” With a last sniff and brush of your finger along your waterline, you turn towards him with a wobbly smile and throw yourself back into his arms. Yeah, wiping all those tears away was for naught. “Gosh, Wriothesley, I just love you so much, you have no idea.” 

Wide eyed, he accepts your embrace and snorts at your sudden outburst of love. Naturally, he would never dare to complain about it. Instead, his nose buries in your neck, inhaling your scent, his arms tighten around your waist, hands roam over your back and take in each and every part of your body. 

He's truly missed you.

You don’t remember much of the past few days, yet what you do remember perfectly well is the warmth, love and care with which you had been handled. It’s overflowing and filling you with even more adoration for this man because you’re fully aware that it has been him who has taken care of you. Wriothesley, who never truly got to experience the same kind of affection in his early life, who has seen too many atrocities at such a young age. Your heart breaks over the things that he has missed, yet it mends again at the realisation of how proud you are of him. How proud and lucky you are for him to be yours, and you to be his. 

And of course, it goes without saying that after this little incident it doesn’t take long until you and him happily announce that if all goes well, in a few months there will be a mini-version of you and him running around the fortress of Meropide. They will fill the place with joy and laughter, and yours and Wriothesley's life with even more happiness and love.

[greengoblinswifey]

𝑭𝒂𝒎𝒆’𝒔 𝑬𝒅𝒈𝒆 ・₊✧🩶 Part I

Pairing— Nicholas Chavez x Model!Reader

Warnings— Mentions of drugs and alcohol, Substance Use, Mature Themes.

A/N— Comment to be a part of the tag list, hope you enjoy this series <3

Series Masterlist

The glossy conference room table reflected the headline of the magazine tossed unceremoniously in front of you.

“America’s New Wild Child: From Runways to Rock Bottom”

Below it was a photo of you stumbling into a hotel lobby, visibly intoxicated, mascara smeared, and your once-iconic dress askew. It wasn’t just one headline, it was everywhere. Every blog, tabloid, and gossip page seemed to have some variation of your downfall plastered across their pages.

Your manager, Angela, sighed heavily from across the table, rubbing her temples. “You see this, right? The Shade Room picked it up. TMZ is all over it. Even Vogue is doing a piece on whether or not you’re the next Kate Moss, but not in a good way.” She leaned forward, her voice sharp. “You’re toxic right now. Nobody wants to touch you.”

You scoffed, shaking your head. “This isn’t true. My ex-best friend—she’s jealous. She made this all up.”

Angela gave you a pointed look and slid her iPad across the table. On it was a video—paparazzi footage of you from a few nights ago. You were stumbling out of a car, practically being carried by someone, slurring your words as you waved off photographers.

You groaned and pressed your fingers to your temples. “Y’all please, that was one time.”

“It’s never just one time with you!” snapped Melanie, one of the executives at your agency. “This is becoming a pattern. And we’re not here to babysit you.” She stood, exasperated. “You’re one of the highest-paid models in the world, and now look at you. You’re a liability.”

Angela raised a hand to calm the room. “Give me a few days,” she said, her voice firm. “I’ll clean this up. We’ll fix her image. She’ll be the ‘it girl’ again. I just need time.”

Melanie crossed her arms but didn’t argue. “Fix it fast. Otherwise, we’re done.”

As the meeting wrapped up, you sat silently, staring at the incriminating headlines. After years of grueling work, endless runway shows, and clawing your way to the top, it was all unraveling because of your past addictions and your inability to leave it behind.

Angela pulled you aside as the others left. “You need to clean this up. No more excuses. No more scandals. And definitely no more drunken or high paparazzi shots. Got it?”

You nodded numbly. “Got it.”

“Good. Now, start small. Let’s use that mansion of yours. Throw a party. Invite everyone who matters. Show them the glamorous, sophisticated version of yourself. Make them forget the messy headlines.”

Your lips curved into a small, defiant smile. “A party? That, I can do.”

2 Days Later

The house practically glittered under the LA moonlight, perched in the most exclusive part of the city. Your glam team buzzed around you, perfecting every inch of your hair and makeup as you sipped champagne. Outside the window, you noticed the usually dark house next door was now bustling with activity.

“Looks like someone’s moving in,” you said absently, gesturing with your glass. From the corner of your eye, you saw a guy carrying a box inside. He looked young, around your age maybe two years older, and vaguely attractive, though you didn’t pay much attention.

“Maybe he’ll be better than the last neighbors,” you joked to your stylist, smirking. “If he’s cute, I might even invite him to the party.”

As the night fell, the party roared to life. The mansion was packed with models, actors, and influencers. Music pounded through the walls, and laughter echoed in every corner. You danced like you had something to prove, the champagne flowing freely. At one point, you made out with a fellow model on the balcony to the cheers of a crowd. You were chaos incarnate, and you loved every second of it.

Around midnight, you were helping a tipsy friend into a waiting limo when you noticed someone approaching from the house next door.

“Excuse me.”

You turned, your vision slightly blurred, and found yourself face-to-face with the new neighbor. He was dressed casually—jeans and a hoodie—but his sharp jawline and piercing eyes caught your attention.

“I’m Nicholas,” he said, offering a tight smile. “Nicholas Chavez. I just moved in.”

You arched a brow, leaning lazily against the limo. “And?”

“And I have an audition tomorrow,” he continued, his tone calm but firm. “Your music is loud, and I can’t sleep.”

You laughed, the champagne fizzing in your head. “Well, didn’t you know who you were moving in next to?”

His lips twitched, but the smile didn’t reach his eyes. “I found out too late,” he said dryly, a pointed reference to the headlines.

You rolled your eyes, crossing your arms. “Funny. I’ve never seen a single headline about you.”

This time, he chuckled softly, though it was more condescending than amused. “Well, I’ll try to keep it that way.” His gaze flicked down briefly before meeting your eyes again.

You noticed, scoffing. “Nice try, but staring at my chest isn’t going to make me turn the music down.”

“Noted,” he replied smoothly, his tone unreadable. “But seriously, could you tone it down? Just a little?”

You waved him off, turning back toward the house. “Good luck with your audition.”

The door slammed behind you as the party continued to rage on. Whatever Nicholas Chavez wanted, it could wait until tomorrow. Tonight, you were untouchable—or so you thought.

You weren’t worried Nicholas would turn out like your last neighbors, the ones who had gleefully run to the press with tales of your ‘wild, disruptive parties’ adding fuel to your already blazing reputation as a noisy party girl.

The party raged on, and you weren’t exactly innocent in keeping it under control. The music blasted as guests danced, smoked, and drank with abandon. Lines of coke were casually set out on mirrored trays, and you caught more than one person lighting up joints in the corners. Even you, despite promising yourself you were done with that lifestyle, gave in after a few glasses of champagne, doing a line or two when a friend coaxed you into it.

By the time the sun started to rise, people were passed out on your marble floors, the air heavy with the stench of spilled liquor and smoke. You stumbled to bed without bothering to clean up, the haze of the night swirling in your head.

You woke to the sound of chaos downstairs—your housekeepers already hard at work, scrubbing every inch of the aftermath. Your head pounded as sunlight streamed in through your curtains. Groaning, you grabbed your phone from the nightstand and blinked at the time. It was already midday.

Dozens of missed calls and messages from Angela stared back at you. She’d been blowing up your phone about a last-minute shoot, one you had completely missed. You cursed under your breath, knowing she’d be furious.

Dragging yourself out of bed, you shuffled into the bathroom for a long, scalding shower. As the water poured over you, you couldn’t help but rethink the night before. You’d promised to get it together, to clean up your image, but it was getting harder to hold yourself accountable.

After drying off, you wrapped yourself in a silk robe and walked to your window. Across the lawn, you noticed Nicholas pulling into his driveway. He stepped out of his car looking exhausted, a coffee in hand, wearing a nice suit. You figured he must have just returned from his audition. It must’ve been early. For a brief moment, guilt pricked at you. If he hadn’t gotten much sleep last night, it was probably your fault.

Angela didn’t wait for you to sit down when you arrived at her office. “What the hell is wrong with you?” she snapped, slamming her laptop shut as you walked in.

“I’m sorry, A,” you began, your voice hoarse from the night before.

“Sorry?” she cut you off, standing up and pacing the room. “Do you know what I’ve been dealing with all morning?” She grabbed a folder from her desk and threw it onto the coffee table in front of you. A stack of printouts slid out, screenshots of articles and photos from the party.

The headlines were brutal: “A Drug-Fueled Disaster: Is Y/N Destroying the Modeling Industry?”

Photos showed passed-out models, trays of coke, and worst of all, a video of you taking a line.

You froze, your stomach twisting into knots.

Angela slammed her hands on the desk. “This was supposed to be elegant, extravagant, a chance to clean up your image. Instead, you turned it into some rockstar-adjacent drug den!”

“I didn’t know people were recording,” you said weakly, avoiding her glare.

“That’s not the point!” she barked. “You were supposed to set an example. Little black girls look up to you. This is the image you’re giving them?”

You exhaled sharply, frustrated. “Angela, with all due respect, I’m not their mother. I didn’t ask to be anyone’s role model.”

She rolled her eyes, her frustration palpable. “Well, congratulations, because you’re not much of one anyway. This is your last chance. Do you hear me? Last chance.”

You nodded quickly, desperate to make it right. “I’ll fix it. I swear.”

“I already have something cooking up,” she said sharply, leaning against her desk. “But in the meantime, go downtown, look beautiful, and give them something positive to talk about. No booze, no drugs, no nonsense. Just smile, shop, and sign autographs. Sober.”

You groaned inwardly at the thought of dragging yourself out in public, especially hungover, but you didn’t dare push back. “Got it.”

Your driver dropped you off at one of the most exclusive shopping districts in the city. Bodyguards lingered in the background as you strolled from boutique to boutique, taking your time and letting the paparazzi get their shots.

Every time someone asked for an autograph, you smiled warmly and obliged, posing with fans here and there. This was your coping mechanism—shopping your problems away, hoping the public would eat it up.

“Looking good, Y/N!” one of the paparazzi shouted as you exited a store with bags in hand.

You forced another smile, playing your part, and waved at the cameras before ducking into the backseat of your car.

When you arrived home, the guilt from last night gnawed at you. You couldn’t undo the noise and chaos, but maybe you could soften the blow. After all, Nicholas didn’t deserve to suffer because of your mess. Deciding to make amends, you ordered a small cake from a local bakery with “Welcome” scrawled neatly in frosting.

Holding the cake, you made your way next door and rang his doorbell. At first, there was no response, and for a brief moment, you wondered if he was ignoring you. Maybe he had seen the articles and already formed an opinion. The thought annoyed you, but just as you were about to turn away, the door opened.

Nicholas stood there in joggers and a fitted t-shirt, his face a mix of surprise and curiosity. His hair was slightly disheveled, and he looked like he’d just rolled out of bed. His eyes dropped to the cake in your hands.

“Hi, neighbor,” you said with a small, sheepish smile.

He raised an eyebrow, reading the icing. “Welcome?”

“It’s for you,” you explained. “To welcome you to the neighborhood. And, uh, sorry about last night.”

His surprise lingered as he stepped aside to let you in. “Didn’t strike you as the generous, ‘welcome-with-cake’ kind of girl,” he said as you followed him into his sleek, modern kitchen.

The place was immaculate—white marble countertops, stainless steel appliances, and tasteful art on the walls. He set a glass down on the counter and gestured toward a barstool for you to sit.

“Well,” he added with a smirk, “especially not after a night like that. I’m surprised you’re even standing.”

You groaned, slumping into the chair. “Please don’t tell me you’ve seen the articles.”

He grabbed a knife to cut the cake. “The articles, the pictures, the videos, yeah, I’ve seen them.”

You groaned again, covering your face with your hands. “Great. Just what I needed. My new neighbor thinking I’m a train wreck.”

“Not thinking anything,” he said casually, slicing into the cake. His tone was calm, nonchalant. You couldn’t read him, and it annoyed you. Was he judging you? Laughing at you? You couldn’t tell.

You cleared your throat. “Anyway, welcome to the neighborhood. And again, sorry for the noise.”

He placed two plates on the counter, handing one to you. “Thanks. Want to eat this with me? That’s if you’re one of those rare models who actually eat carbs and don’t starve themselves.”

You shot him a pointed look. “Don’t joke about that. And yes, I’ll have a slice. Or two.”

He chuckled softly, taking a seat across from you. As you ate, you studied him a little closer. His face was sharp, striking, he was definitely good-looking, though in a boy-next-door-meets-Hollywood kind of way. Then it hit you where you’d seen him before.

“You’ve been everywhere lately,” you said, setting your fork down. “You were in that Lyle and Erik Menendez show, right?”

He looked up, surprised. “You watched it?”

“I caught the first episode,” you admitted. “It was really good. Intense, but good.”

“Thanks,” he said, his expression softening. “It was a tough project, but worth it.”

You leaned back in your seat. “Hollywood’s a mess. Be careful.”

He nodded. “I’ll do my best.”

The conversation felt easy, almost too easy. Sitting across from him, you couldn’t help but notice how his t-shirt hugged his chest and arms, or the way his jaw tensed when he chewed. You realized, with a twinge of irritation, that you were definitely attracted to him. The idea of tearing his clothes off flashed through your mind, but you quickly shoved it aside.

You had too much going on to add that kind of complication to your life. Besides, sex was supposed to be the last thing on your mind right now.

Standing abruptly, you pushed your chair back. “I should go. Thanks for letting me crash your place. Enjoy the cake.”

He walked you to the door. “If I need anything, should I come knocking?”

You raised an eyebrow. “I don’t plan on babysitting you, but sure, I guess.”

He scoffed, shaking his head. “Noted, neighbor.”

The moment you stepped through the door, your phone buzzed. Angela’s name flashed across the screen.

“Good,” she said briskly when you answered. “You’re home. I’ll be at your place first thing in the morning.”

“Why?” you asked cautiously.

“There’s a plan,” she said, her tone leaving no room for questions. “I’ll explain everything then, and we’ll put it in motion. Be ready.”

She hung up before you could respond. You stared at the phone, curiosity swirling in your chest. Whatever she was planning, you couldn’t help but feel a flicker of excitement. If this was your chance to claw your way back into the spotlight, you’d take it.

For now, you poured yourself a glass of water, settling into the couch as you tried to shake off the day. Tomorrow was a new start—or so you hoped.

[novankenn]

What If...

Pyrrha was also under the sway of Salem Cinder and Pyrrha love each other (Pompeii) Jaune and Emerald are married (Topaz) Jaune and Emerald have a child (Jasmine Esmeralda Arc) Jaune and Emerald are on the run from Salem & Ozpin

Scene : A cheap motel in Argus

==> @cheeseeater2 - What if Nora and Ren find Jaune and Emerald with the kid and let them go if only for the child to be safe. Jaune says even if they hate him forever he loves them and hopes they can be happy one day.

Of all the things Ren and Nora expected after hearing that Jaune had left with Pyrrha during the fall, and then discovering that he and Emerald were on the run from Salem's agents. Finding himself held at gun-point by the man he used to consider a brother, was not one of them.

It had been a stroke of luck, finding out Jaune and Emerald were expecting. It was through idle chit-chat with the other tenants of the apartment building Jaune and Emerald had been living in for the last almost year... before vanishing days before a fire gutted the building. So as they continued their counter operations against Salem's machinations, they kept checking local medical centers and hospitals.

At a stop over in Argus, about a year after the last lead that went cold at the apartment complex. Nora had decided on a whim to check the local hospital, and much to her utter shock she caught site of Emerald leaving with a bundle cradled in her arms. So cautiously she followed the obviously new mother, tracing her back to a rather shabby motel.

A scroll call and Ren was beside her with in twenty minutes. A hint of intimidation and they had the room number. The flimsy wooden door was no obstacle for Nora. She was through it at the first hit of her shoulder. Ren was inside a fraction of a second after Nora burst through the door. The screaming of a startled child, and the yells of a young women, filled the room. But what Ren really focused on was the cold barrel of a rather nasty pistol being pressed against the center of his chest.

"You don't want to do this Jaune." Ren calmly informed his former team leader. "This will just make things worse."

"You right Ren, I don't want to do this, but to protect my wife and my daughter... I will." Jaune replied, his voice measured, and forced like he was fighting the potential of his own emotions surfacing. "Back away Nora."

"Jaune, why?" Nora asked as she stepped back away from the door she had just smashed in.

"I made a mistake." Jaune replied. "Both Em and I did."

"And what do you call this?" Ren asked nodding towards the pistol pressed against his chest.

"Protecting our second chance." Jaune replied. "Em, are you and her okay?"

"We are, she's just a little scared." Emerald answered, as she gently rocked the bundle in her arms. "Shush that's okay sweetie. It's okay, daddy will keep the bad people away from us."

"We're not... bad people." Nora countered.

"Really?" Emerald asked. "You've been trying to find us for years. Chasing us from place to place. Making us uproot, time and time again just so we can have a life away from all the bullshit."

"But..."

"We made mistakes. We were lied to. Led on." Emerald cut Nora off. "We figured it out too late to stop them, so we left."

"And have Ozpin's and Salem's minions dogging us all over Remnant." Jaune added. "We're out. We want to be left in peace. We know nothing, nor do we want to know anything. We're out."

"Jaune, you know..."

"Who says it can't be that way? Ozpin? Salem?" Jaune countered. "Fuck them and their little war!"

"Jaune, language!' Emerald hissed as she continued to placate the fussy infant.

"I'm sorry, but the point remains. We're out. We just want to make a life, for us and our daughter. A quiet life." Jaune expanded upon his original statement. "Both of you away from the door."

"Jaune, this isn't the right way. Come back with us? Ozpin can..."

"Ozpin is a failure." Jaune rebutted. "If he had any brains or sense he would have at least had an idea that Salem was trying something after the breach."

"None of us..."

"No, we didn't." Jaune agreed, "But we we're students, why would we have? The ones in power should have been protecting us. Like I will Em and Jas."

"Jas?" Nora asked as she moved as far from the door, as she could without getting any closer to Emerald or the infant. "Is that her name? Jas?"

"Jasmine Esmeralda Arc." Emerald informed the group. "She's named after our mothers."

Jasmine started to fuss more.

"Is she..."

"She's hungry." Emerald answered as she adjusted how she was holding Jasmine while lifting the left side of her shirt to feed her bundle of joy.

"I'm sorry it came to this." Jaune commented as he moved himself to be standing between Emerald and the now sitting Nora and Ren, his pistol still trained on Ren. "I never wanted to hurt you, either of you. You mean too much to me, but..."

"Jasmine and Emerald mean more." Nora finished his statement. "I can understand that."

"Are you truly happy Jaune?" Ren asked, keeping his hands flat on his lap, in clear view. "I mean really happy?"

"I am." Jaune replied. "I... we made our mistakes, but Jas is the best of both of us, and she deserves a future."

"A future you're willing to kill to protect?" Ren asked.

"You need to understand, Ren. I don't want to, but I will. To protect Em and Jas, I will put down anyone that comes after us."

"What are you going to do now?" Nora asked, trying to lean just enough to see Emerald and her baby.

"Same as we always do when you two or Cinder and Pyrrha get too close. We'll leave, and find somewhere new."

"That's not much of a life." Ren commented. "Always on the run. Is that fair to Jasmine? To Emerald? To you?"

"If I could change it. If I could fix it, I would... but there's fat chance of that happening, isn't there."

"Can I... can I hold her?" Nora tentatively asked. "I won't do anything, I swear, I just... I just feel this need..."

"I don't..."

"It's okay Jaune." Emerald cut him off. "I trust her enough not to hurt Jas. She's not the type."

Emerald stood, up after burping Jasmine, and slowly approached, keeping out of Jaune's line of fire. She loved him, wholly, and she understood is consuming drive and need to keep her and their daughter safe. She had the same compulsion.

"Watch her head." Emerald softly instructed Nora as she lay the precious bundle of joy. Jaune and her little miracle into Nora's arms.

"She's so small." Nora whispered, a sad smile on her face. "She's so small."

"Jaune, put it away." Emerald smiled at him as she crouched next to Nora who was completely enamored with little Jasmine.

Jaune hesitated for a fraction of a moment and then reached up and pushed the pistol back up into his sleeve. Ren heard the click of the mechanism resetting.

"Ren," Nora softly spoke. "We can't keep chasing them. We need to help them."

"Nora?"

"She's so small, and innocent. She shouldn't have to suffer for Jaune and Emerald's mistakes." Nora commented her eyes never leaving the beautiful if but slightly chubby face. "This is a fresh start for them... and us."

"Us?" Ren asked.

"I hate what Pyrrha did. How she used us all. How she broke our trust... but I want to help protect this little one. I want to do that more than chasing Jaune or Emerald." Nora made a kissy face as Emerald smiled. "Everything we're doing is about the future right? Protecting it?"

"I guess." Ren responded.

"Then let's help them. Let's let this little one have the family the Grimm robbed us of..." Nora's eyes started to tear up, emotions she thought long gone washing over her.

"It's okay, Nora." Emerald comforted her one time enemy. "It's okay."

"There might be a way." Ren sighed as he spoke. "Because to be honest I'm tired of chasing you Jaune."

"If it's any consolation, we're tired of being chased by you." Jaune gave his former teammate a soft smile.

"Would you stay in Vale, if we could get you in without anyone knowing? If we could help you get settled? Would you stay?"

Jaune looked to Emerald who was still hovering over Nora, rubbing her back in gentle circles as Nora tried to get control of her emotions. Emerald gave Jaune a smile and a nod.

"I would, if we can be safe. Unmolested?"

"Only Nora and I would know. Not even Ozpin will be any the wiser."

"Tell me why?" Jaune point blank asked.

"I want my family back together, despite the mistakes we've all made." Ren replied. "You're our family Jaune, and we miss you."

"I miss you as well." Jaune responded.

"So, can you really help us? Keep us secret and safe?" Emerald asked as Nora, at Emerald's urging, transferred Jasmine back into her arms.

"We can." Ren replied.

"No," Nora spoke her voice breaking slightly. "We will."

Jaune swallowed hard, and moved forward, his arms spread accepting Nora and Ren into a hug that had been forever in the making. A familial embrace they had all missed.

[rahuratna]

Synopsis: A little gift fic for @musubi-sama Happy birthday!

You've enlisted the services of Geto Suguru to assist you with ridding yourself of strange dreams. In the world of curses, however, nothing is as it seems ...

CW: Mild sensuality.

There is something of the wolf in him.

Maybe it's the smile he wears like a summer garment, carelessly offered, carelessly discarded, a suggestion of bared teeth beneath. Maybe it's the languid grace, the ill-concealed strength beneath the rich material of the yukata.

It is, possibly, in the way his dark, dark eyes trace something unseen as their gaze glides along your seated form within the spacious, traditional room.

A predator's glance, yes, but one seeking tougher prey than you.

You start to wonder where you'd found the courage to mount those stairs, to follow the airy wave of the attendant, to take such a risk based on hearsay alone. It had been office gossip that had drawn you to this place, after all. It shamed you to say it, or even think it, but it was the truth. You'd been desperate, and you'd heard whispers of a solution, of his reputation in certain circles.

And here you were. It was too late for regrets.

As if reading your tumultuous thoughts, his eyes flick towards yours, the smile growing wider for a second. When he speaks, the afternoon breeze outside seems to still a little, to snake into the corners of the room, ready to do his bidding. Soft, cajoling, his voice commandeers your attention like a single, crisp footfall in a dark forest.

"You're here for my help, I presume."

Your tongue darts out, moistening your lips.

"Yes. I - You see, it's the woman who lives next door to me."

He nods, eyes narrowing slightly.

"Go on."

"She's elderly. Alone. I've never seen ... well, any family visiting her, but I've not been in the neighbourhood for long."

You pause, collecting your thoughts. How could this be phrased in a manner that didn't make you sound like the unhinged party?

"Recently, she's been asking to come over. I humoured her, a few times. Had her over for tea. I even gifted her a plant I'd bought. But then ... as soon she was inside the house, she changed."

"Changed?"

You shift slightly, the floor beneath the tatami mat suddenly harder against your knees.

"She becomes quiet. Weird. Like she's waiting for something. She's ... quite chatty outside, but when she's inside, she just ... becomes different. Anyway, that was just the first thing I noticed. I started to find ... these. Scattered over my doorstep."

You produce the dark, polished stone from your pocket, handling it gingerly. He makes no move, and so you approach, placing it a few feet away from him and settling back into a sitting position.

"And ... I know this sounds ... "

He waves a hand, nonchalant, as if nothing you say could possibly surprise him.

"After the stones started to appear, I started to have dreams. Really vivid dreams. In them, I am riding a train, like the one I take to work. It's a stormy day outside. So I look out the window, and I see clouds. Thick, dark clouds. And they start to form a shape."

For the first time, you see a glimmer of interest in those onyx eyes. The palm cushioning his chin drops away.

"Hmm. In your dream, is the train traveling away from, or towards the clouds?"

"Towards. In fact they ... form the shape of her face. With her mouth wide open. And she ... she swallows the train. It travels right into her mouth, with me in it."

"And what then?"

"I wake up. Nothing else really happens, except for ... "

He waits, fingers tracing idly along his earlobe. You clear your throat.

"Well, I wake up feeling like a ... child. A child who wakes up in the dark. Like I want my mother to come into my room and hold me. Many times, I cry. And it doesn't ... go away, the feeling. Even when I'm at work, even when I'm having dinner with colleagues, I just ... feel the urge to be embraced. By my mother. A parent. Someone. It's so strong that I ... locked myself in a toilet once and wrapped my arms around myself."

Your laugh is higher pitched than you'd prefer, brittle. You blink rapidly, fighting the cloudiness that settles across your eyes.

"My mother's long gone, and I've been living alone for many years now. I've never felt this way before. I can't explain it. I have a feeling. A feeling that it all has something to do with her. That she ... did something to me when she came to my house. The way she watched me. Like she was waiting for something."

He hums thoughtfully, straightening out of his semi-reclining position.

"In cases such as these, I think it works best to visit the site itself."

"The ... site?"

"Your home, of course."

"Oh. My - Oh. I really don't want to make you go out of your way. I live all the way over in - "

He rises, the fall of his dark hair echoing the slide of long sleeves as he gracefully re-arranges himself.

"And you've come all the way here, to me, for assistance. Please don't forget that you've paid us to render you a service. I hate to sound so ... transactional, but you've sought out our help. And you traveled by train no less."

His sly, sideways glance drags a reluctant smile out of you. He bows politely, the corner of his own mouth quirking.

"At your service."

He informs you of the time of his arrival, of course. His communication by text message is light, professional.

You arrange to leave work early that day, hurrying back to your home, eyes flickering across the fence to the door of the neighboring house. That's where she is. There is no sign of her at this time, but your imagination conjures up the twitch of a curtain, the soft shuffle of slippered feet within.

Your key slips slightly as you unlock the front door and you enter, closing it behind you with force. Taking a deep breath, you will your muscles out of their tense state.

He will be here soon. He will end this.

You busy yourself with tidying up, hands drifting aimlessly over dust-free counter-tops, shifting a few items around. Sitting is out of the question.

About forty minutes after you arrive, the doorbell chimes softly. Geto is standing a small distance away from the door when you answer it. He doesn't greet you immediately. His eyes are roving across the front of your house, sliding sideways, and you shiver as you see the look that crosses his face as his gaze lands on her house.

Not unpleasant. Almost eager. Hungry.

He turns to you with a smile, eyes curving slightly upward, and you're struck by how handsome he looks. In civilian clothes, a knitted sweater and jeans, black leather loafers and a silver wristwatch, he looks effortlessly beautiful, the swathe of dark hair gleaming in the mid-morning light.

Everything about him seems casual, luxurious. Besides the eyes, of course. They consume the warmth of the yard and reflect something you can't (and maybe don't want to) put a name to.

"Good morning, Geto. Please, come in."

You bow politely and he waves off the formality of your greeting. Somewhere, to the left, you hear a door creak slightly open. Geto steps forward and surprises you by slipping his warm fingers underneath yours, hooking and pulling you forward. You stumble out into the yard beside him and his smile grows wider. He spreads his arms out.

"Why go in when we can experience this glorious sunshine? Let's stay here for a bit."

The door of the neighbouring house is now open. You can hear the protesting squeal of old hinges, but you ignore it and play along with Geto's charade. It must have some meaning.

Shrugging, you finger the slightly frayed hem of your own cardigan.

"I haven't really stopped to soak up the sun for a while now."

He flicks your forehead in a manner that almost reddens your cheeks and by his knowing grin, he is aware of exactly what kind of effect his actions have.

"I've told you so many times. You're looking too gloomy. Flowers like you need sunlight and care."

It takes all of your composure to keep the soft smile on your face as you hear the slide of slippers across the paved garden path on the other side of the fence. Geto glances up and feigns surprise. Reluctantly, you turn to regard the face that has haunted your dreams for almost a month now.

She is openly staring, gaze fluttering between you and Geto with something that looks like alarm. You clear your throat.

"Miss Okoyama. You're out early."

She nods, but she is still scrutinizing Geto. Her voice is reedy, as always.

"Oh, I just ... saw you out. Thought I'd come over and say hello. Haven't seen you in a while."

Her tone sounds slightly accusatory and you feel a tinge of anger. Gesturing to the man beside you, your introduction is almost brusque.

"This is Geto. He's ... a work colleague."

"Ah."

Geto bows politely, playfully. He steps closer to you, and her eyes follow where he places his palm lightly on the small of your back. You feel the warmth of him through your clothes. Feeling more than a little flustered with how this entire situation seems to be unraveling, you grasp his sleeve and tug slightly.

"Let's not keep Miss Okoyama out too long. She needs rest."

Geto greets her politely and follows you back in. You can feel the interrogator's beam of regard on your back, the icy hot trail of watchfulness passing between you and Geto once again.

Once in the safety of your living room, you drop heavily onto the sofa, hands coming up to massage your temples.

"Well. At least you got to meet her."

He laughs and settles down opposite you.

"I'm beginning to see the problem here."

"You are?"

"All too clearly. You mentioned before that this ... strange behavior started last month?"

"Around then, yes."

"And you said that she changed when she stepped into your house?"

You nod, wringing your hands slightly.

"I don't know. Yes. Maybe. I just ... had a weird feeling come from her."

He rises and motions for you to stay seated as he begins a cursory inspection of your home. As he peers into various corners, a stream of questions keeps your attention focused on answering accurately, as opposed to wondering what he is searching for.

"What did you speak about? When she was here?"

"Different things. Our lives, I guess. My job. My family. Her family."

"You mentioned your mother to her?"

You hesitate slightly, watching him as he traces light fingers over the kitchen counter, moving towards your bookshelves.

"Oh, yes. She asked me."

You're not quite sure why you sound so defensive, but he appears not to take notice. He is now examining the books on your shelves.

"Interesting collection you have here. Have you ever leant out any books to her?"

"What? No, never. I mean, after I started having the dreams, I never invited her back here."

The wandering fingers have now flitted from the bookshelf to the stand beside it, holding a small basket for your keys and a potted plant. Feeling a sudden surge of impatience, you stand and make your way to the kitchen.

"Would you like some tea? Coffee, maybe?"

"Oh, don't mind me."

He is now softly brushing the leaves of the pot plant, and you're reminded of how those hands felt a short while ago, fingers coiled around yours. Large, substantial, warm, their strength beyond your ability to guage.

You busy yourself preparing coffee, the rich, decadent scent as enticing as his presence here, in your space. You hear a faint clink and rustle, but when you turn, he is making his way towards the kitchen, sniffing appreciatively.

"Actually, I'd love some coffee."

Your fingers drum across the counter-top.

"Did you ... find anything?"

He doesn't reply immediately, picking up the package of ground coffee and examining the label.

"Does she often ambush you in the yard like that?"

"Once or twice. I ... usually manage to avoid her."

He sets the package down, deceptively delicate. You raise your eyes to his. This close, you can smell the ocean bite of his cologne, cleaner and lighter than you expected. The faint shadow of long lashes falls against his cheek, magnified by the overhead light. His breath fans warm across your cheek, shockingly intimate in the small space. His voice, when he speaks, is soft, so soft.

"Do you know about curses?"

"Curses?"

He wags a teasing finger.

"Dont look at me like that. Curses are very real. They inhabit our world, and us."

You're aware of the line of confusion forming between your brows.

"I don't think I follow. Are you saying that she's cursed me?"

"Not quite. You see, a curse is something that can only be knowingly placed by an expert. And yet, so many of us go about our lives, unaware of the curses that others place upon us. The curses we place upon them. The curses we harbour within ourselves."

You're not sure about the source of your uneasiness, but it is growing. You place the blame on his proximity, the way you can hear his lips part when he speaks.

"You miss your mother, don't you?"

"Yes, of course I - "

"I can feel it. It's here, in the air. Your longing for her."

"After those dreams -"

"No. Before them."

His contradiction is matter-of-fact, a contrast to the feathery contact of his fingers with a stray lock of your hair.

"You must have missed her terribly, to be holding something like this inside yourself."

"What are you talking about?"

You don't mean to whisper. You never meant for that hoarseness to find its way into your voice. The fine balance of terror and desire, now on a honed blade's edge, glides across your skin alongside his fingers.

"I'm talking about your curse. The one you placed on Miss Okoyama."

"That's nonsense and you know it. I've never - "

The black pebbles clatter across your kitchen counter, falling from his fist like a miniature, contained hailstorm. Your muscles lock in place as you watch the sleek, dark grey stones scatter, as if following some unknown law of impact.

"Where did you get those?"

"From your pot plant. These stones are just beneath the surface of the soil. Was it a plant like this one that you gifted her? Did those pebbles on your doorstep really come from her?"

The marble of the counter digs into your back as you lean away from him.

"You need to leave. Now."

His laugh is easy, full of merriment, as if the conversation you've been having isn't fraught with confrontation, tension and (on your part), anger and fear.

"Now, now, there's no need for that."

He straightens, and suddenly, you're aware of how much taller he is, how that gnawing edge of perpertual starvation in his glance has focused its full force on you.

You are prey.

You can't let him go further, and so, you attempt to defend yourself.

"What are you doing? Are you blaming me for all of this?"

"I am. But not in the way you're thinking. You missed your mother. You invited this woman into your home, a presence who may have subconsciously reminded you of her. You gifted her this pot plant, and you began to see a change in her."

He reaches across, ignoring the way you flinch, and gently places his forefinger on the region of your heart.

"You carry a desolation in here. You don't even know it's there, most days, because does one question the desert one inhabits? The drought that came without another's love has been here for a long time. Your dreams of Miss Okoyama reflect your desire to be consumed, rather than escape her. It doesn't change the fact that you are fearful of this need."

He taps the stones.

"You fill the pockets of your heart with stone weights, and you drop them into a lake deep inside yourself. You unknowingly ensnared Miss Okoyama with these same little tokens. But curses never stay silent, do they, my dear?"

Your breathing has migrated to the realm of rapid, shallow pants, dampness breaking out across your brow. You are afraid, so deathly afraid. You want someone to hold you. You want arms wrapping around your body, around and around, a meteor belt lashed to the gravity of your never-ending need.

You want -

His hand is cupping your jaw, so warm, so warm, tilting your head up, your panicked gaze meeting his bottomless hunger. You have so much to give away, this curse as he names it, and if he can help you, then -

"Please."

You hear the desperation in your own voice, and hate every drawn out syllabyl of it.

"Please take it from me. Remove my curse."

"With pleasure."

His head dips with slow, dancer's grace, his mouth covering yours like a drift of autumnnal leaves over the cold earth. It is only chaste for a moment; he is now languidly prying you open with his tongue, lapping at you. The heat of his lips, the soft hum of approval that rumbles through his chest, the final firm slide of his arms around your waist seals in the perfection you have been craving.

This, this, is what you needed. It's all that you -

He licks a stripe across your lips playfully, and then, impossibly, deepens the kiss, your head tilting back under the force. You let out a small sound of pleasure, but your eyes snap open again when you feel something else.

He is hungry. That much is evident in the way he shifts his head from one angle to the next, dampness crawling over your lips and smearing hot along the sides of them. Something is different, though.

There is a strange coil in your stomach, one you'd initially mistaken for arousal. It feels almost as if ...

Gasping, you place your hands on his chest, as if to shove him away, but he is too strong. Keeping his mouth fixed over yours, he drinks of you deeply. And he draws something out.

Eyes widening, you go limp in his grasp as his teeth latch onto your bottom lip, nipping harshly. Those large hands map out the curves of you, tracing the valley between waist and hip, sinking into your flesh, tugging it relentlessly out of you.

For one, long, agonizing moment, you feel a tearing separation within you, one that makes you cry out, breaking the kiss, you head whipping back and forth. He speaks soft words of encouragement, unrelenting in his hold on you, pressing you back against the counter as equal parts arousal and fear war within your ravaged mind.

You eyes open, briefly, but you see it. It hovers in the air, a grotesque apparition of rolling eyes, spidery fingers and an oversized head, claws reaching for you, before it is drawn into a crushing black hole of darkness.

Geto's mouth opens, wide, so wide, and you watch, paralysed, as that black sphere disappears within him, gliding along the velveteen length of his tongue, drawn behind the pearly cage of his teeth, down, down, an eclipse of the throat, until nothing is left.

A terrible rush of fatigue assails you, turning your limbs to lead weights. And yet, there is such relief. It feels as if you've emptied your pockets of every stone you've collected, every little increment of isolation you've endured for such a long time.

Before your vision swims beyond the recoverable, darkness creeping in at the edges of it, you see the satisfied look on Geto's face.

He has swallowed your curse, and the heaviness it brings to your heart.

You regain consciousness hours later, tucked safely into your bed. There is no note, no communication on your phone, and yet, you lie for a moment, staring at the ceiling, feeling more complete than you have in years.

The gnawing hunger was something you'd never known was there, until it was gone. No wonder Geto had seemed so familiar to you in his presence. The thing inside you was just as much of a predator as he was, just so much weaker.

You do wish that you'd regained consciousness before he'd left, though. You'd have liked to thank him for what he's done for you. Glancing across at your phone, you know, with some kind of visceral certainty, that he will never contact you again.

Your fingers rise, trace softly over your lips, and your eyes close once again.

Maybe it's just as well that you were passed out. You hadn't seen Geto leave, hadn't seen him pause on the stairs and glance sideways before nodding slightly, finding no trace of your curse left hovering at the door of that hapless woman's abode.

Miss Okoyama would return to her regular self soon enough.

Geto paused on the street, sliding a small spray bottle of disinfectant from a pocket, as if by instinct. He raised it, the nozzle facing him, before considering it thoughtfully.

He smiled and tucked it away.

[majoryeager104]

You + Me = three pt 2

Summary: headcannons of Touya as an official dad

warnings: Language, mentions of murder (☝️💀) and Touya needing to be protected at all costs (as usual 😩)

It’s a daughter

And he’s never been more happy

He can’t really explain why he wanted a daughter so bad

But he was beyond ecstatic when he got to hold her for the first time

As said before, if he could cry, he would

He’d definitely be a protective dad

Like besides you NO ONE can hold his little princess 🙅‍♀️

Because “no mf you’ll DROP HER, or she’ll get ANXIOUS, or ILL GET ANXIOUS”

But at the same time

Yk those memes that are like “dad vs mom” and the mom is cuddling the baby, and the dad is like treating it like a ragdoll? Slinging it over his shoulder and stuff?

Yeah that’s him too. 

A year in you walk into the living room

And he’s got your daughter upside down

Walking on her hands 

While he holds her ankles

“She wanted to do a hand stand”

And he’d shrug like it wasn’t an ACTUAL BABY

Like everyone else would treat her irresponsibly but him

And that mindset of his never goes away

Can you imagine when his daughter is a teenager?

Bringing a boy home?

I think the fuck not 😤

He’ll either threaten the kid

Or like actually burn him. 

Like fr

He’s a villain okay

But he’s got his priorities straight at least

Bc the boy was probably gonna try and use her anyways 😤

At least according to Touya

So he deserved it 🧍 

Moving on from child murder

Back to baby hc’s

He’d totally steal naps with the baby when he can

He’s not even tired 

But holding his baby

And having her fall asleep in his arms? 

An elevated experience for him

ESPECIALLY if it means you can catch a break

Buuuuut

Nap time with baby AND you?

He’s in heaven. 

His two favorite people

The two people in the world he would protect at any cost

And he gets to cuddle with them 🥹 

I think on a serious note though

The experience of being a dad 

And raising a kid with you

Definitely made him think about a few things 

Like

Revenge didn’t feel worth it anymore. 

If it meant he’d die in a few months

And leave you two behind?

Nah

Bc having you two 

Was the best thing to happen to him

Because

He didn’t want to die for you

He wanted to live for you

So what was the point in dying in such a terrible way?

So his daughter could grow up without her dad? 

Absolutely not. 

So

Should he have a family with you 

That revenge he’d been working towards would be obsolete 

All that energy that he stored up

For the moment he’d destroy the lives of his father and those who wronged him?

That energy is being put to better use now

Now he’s making time to take his daughter on walks so you can rest

And making her and you pancakes every morning

Every single day 

As his daughter gets older and older, he definitely opens up about the things he’s done 

He’d been in a shell for so long 

Hiding himself from people

That he never wanted to do that again

At least not with you or your daughter

And once again

Another moment where if he could he’d cry?

Is when his daughter smiles

And says she understands

Just like you did all those years ago when he told you 

Because now he had a family

An actual family 

Who loved and understood him

And he’ll be holding onto these moments

That he considers ever so sacred and precious

Till the day he finally drops dead

Ughhhh Dad Touya has my heart I fear 🖐️😭 having a whole redemption arc for the sake of his family bc Enji never did that for him 💔💔💔

[lulublack90]

Prompt 20 - Birthmark

@jegulus-microfic November 20, Word count 922

Previous part First part

James was seething all over again. He couldn’t believe that Snape could sink so low as to have Regulus’s room destroyed like that because he was jealous of his art. James was glad Regulus was living with him because he would have ended up camping outside his door every night to make sure he was safe. He may only be in his twenties, but he didn’t fancy sleeping on the floor for the foreseeable future. He suddenly became aware of the scuffle beside him. Sirius was trying to get to Mulciber and Remus and Regulus were holding him back. James had thought Regulus would be more upset over the matter, but he seemed to be handling it well. James decided to stop pondering and actually help with Sirius. He came up behind him and lifted him off the floor. Sirius’s legs and arms were flailing everywhere, but James just walked him out of the doors and onto the grounds, heading towards the carpark. 

“Put me down, Prongs!” Sirius growled angrily as he tried in vain to weaken the grip James had on him. Regulus and Remus were just behind them. Remus had hold of Regulus’s hand, but Regulus seemed more concerned about calming his brother.

“Sirius, it doesn’t matter. I won anyway; my art is on show and his isn’t. I don’t need you to avenge me,” He pleaded, but Sirius wasn’t listening. 

“James, let go of me! Snape’s going to regret the day he messed with my little brother!”

“Sirius, will you calm down!” Regulus groaned. James got them to the car but then realised to get his keys, he’d have to put Sirius down, and that bugger could run like lightning given the chance. He’d never catch him if he got away now. 

“Reg, love, could you get the keys out of my front pocket?” He’d ask Remus, but these were some of his tighter jeans and the pockets weren’t all that roomie. Regulus’s hands were more slender than Remus’s. 

Regulus didn’t even hesitate. He plunged his hand into James’s pocket and fished out the keys while avoiding Sirius’s kicking legs. He unlocked the car and held the back door open for him. “Remus go round the other side and put the child locks on,”

“I am not a child!”

“Then stop acting like one.” 

Remus ran around, and after a second pause to click the little switch in the door, he jumped in. “Right, Padfoot in you go,” And James threw Sirius in feet first. Regulus jumped in after him, flicking the child lock at the same time and slamming the door. James could still hear Sirius’s protests from inside the car, but he could deal with that. He went over to the driver's door and got in, ignoring the profanity spouting from Sirius’s mouth, and drove them home.

“I take it you guys really don’t like Snape then?” Regulus asked during a lull in Sirius’s tirade. 

“Yeah, we were all living in halls last year and, unfortunately, so was he. He lived in the room next to mine and Sirius’s, and Remus was on the other side. He did not appreciate that we knew how to have fun, and he didn’t. He was always making complaints about us. We even offered for him to swap with Remus, and that way, he’d have an entire room between us, but he refused to give up his room. We, er, we may have pulled a few pranks on him.” James said as he stopped at the traffic lights. He pulled off again and turned into the carpark outside their block of flats. “Let’s just say we don’t get on and his friends aren’t much better than him.” James finished as he got out and opened the back doors to let his passengers out. Sirius, thankfully, had calmed down. He was clearly still plotting vengeance, but at least he wouldn’t go and do something stupid straight away. 

James’s phone rang and he answered it. 

“Oi, Potter. I’ve got space tomorrow if you still want that tattoo,” Mary said cheerily down the phone to him. 

“Yes! Definitely! I swear this time I’ll show up.”

“You’d better, or I’ll tattoo it on some rando,” She warned him mischievously. 

“I swear I’ll be there,” James promised. 

“You’d better. Love you,” Mary cooed at him and hung up. 

They walked up to James’s flat, and they all went inside. 

“Was that Mary?” Remus asked once they’d found seats and flopped down. 

“Yeah, I was on my way to get a new tattoo but then…” Regulus winced. 

“Sorry,” He murmured into James’s chest where he’d snuggled into. 

“Don’t be daft,” James chuckled, stroking Regulus’s hair out of his eyes. “That was important and Mary didn’t mind.” 

“What are you getting?” Remus asked with interest. 

“Regulus’s stag painting.”

“Sweet, where?” James leaned forward and dragged his t-shirt off over his head and, after moving Regulus a bit, he managed to swivel towards Remus and pointed at his chest.

“Right here, under Sirius’s stars and your moon. I thought the sunset would look good under them.”

“Oh, yeah, that’ll look great,” Remus beamed at him. Regulus’s finger brushed against his side; he tensed a bit at the touch as it tickled him. 

“You’ve got a birthmark,” Regulus said quietly as he traced the darker patch of skin. “It looks like antlers,” 

“Yeah, it does,” James laughed. “That's how I got the nickname Prongs,” James told him, and they broke into the story of how they all got their nicknames. 

[bgomtori]

☆ autumn - c.sb

synopsis -> the transition of summer to make him fall.

-> soobin x reader

-> childhood friends to lovers, fake dating, mutual pinning, sunshine and sunshine protector relationship, slowburn.

-> warnings! yn's slightly dense, super long

-> notes! heavily inspired by the webtoon our secret alliance, please read it 😢 it's so cute and jaeha reminds me of soobin a lot.

"an alliance?" soobin peeked over his phone, looking at you like you grew two heads. you nodded your head, falling onto the bed, right below soobin's feet.

"think about it, if we lie to our parents that we are dating, they wouldn't suspect a thing when we go out! they'll think that we'll be going on a date or something, but we're actually sneaking out to do our own things." you explained as if you were a genius solving a difficult maths question. soobin placed his phone down to look at you, his head hovering over yours.

"this better work, if not i'm telling your parents about the vase you broke the other day." you gasped at his audacity to even bring that up, you stuck out your pinky finger, "i promise that this is a good idea." soobin eyed you suspiciously before locking his pinky with yours.

"i trust you." you beamed at his words, for the first time in a while soobin finally agreed to one of your plans, and did not call you stupid for it.

from then on, the both of you have been heading out for your so called "study dates" to prove to your parents that even though you're "dating", your studies are still your top priority. however, as soon as you step out of your house, ensuring that the door is sealed shut, you and soobin part ways almost instantly, sending him a reminder on the agreed timing to meet up and head home for dinner.

it also helped that practically everyone, even the teachers, thought that both of you were dating, the way soobin would walk to class with you or the way you would cheerfully run up to him, telling him everything that has happened to you throughout the day.

to you, this alliance was fun, you enjoyed spending time with soobin, now that mid terms were around the corner, the two of you have been studying together more than usual, unlike the past where he would go gaming with his friends and you would go out on dates with people you met online. you loved your time with soobin, more than you expected.

on the other hand, soobin didn't like the mushy feeling he'd always feel when you come around, he hated the way his heart would race when you wrap your arm around his.

"i think i'm sick." soobin mumbled, his face slightly flushed, his heart banging against his ribcage as he recalled the way you waved your mock test at him with a bright smile, telling him that you've finally passed the subject you've been constantly failing, later rambling about how this year is going to be your year.

"more like lovesick.." beomgyu gagged, rolling his eyes, "why did you even agree to the alliance." he added, taking a sip from his milk carton. soobin shrugged, turning his head to the side, watching you smiling with your friends as you take bites from your lunch.

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁

a few weeks has passed, soobin had finally realised his growing feelings for you, after multiple scoldings from beomgyu, he finally got it through his thick skull that he does indeed like you.

"i'm home! come on, let's go to my room, i really need help with my math homework." you took soobin's wrist, about to pull him into your room until your mum stopped you two.

"welcome back, wait here for a while, i have some treats for you." your mum smiled, scurrying off to the kitchen to grab some pasteries she bought from the newly opened bakery from down the street. soobin shyly thanked your mum, taking a bite out of the brownie placed infront of him, while you basically devour the cookies.

"you know.. recently my friend's daughter lied about her report card, saying that she was scared that she wouldn't see her as a golden child anymore," your mum sighed, looking down at her hands, you looked at her, taking another bite of your cookie, "you two aren't hiding any secrets from me, are you?"

you swallowed the cookie, the feeling of guilt crashes onto you, taking frantic glances at soobin who looked calm and collected, unlike you who was panicking. "no." you uttered out softly, taking a sip of cola. your mum smiled at you, leaving you and soobin alone for now.

"we're screwed aren't we?" soobin snickered, biting on the soft, chewy brownie on the plate.

"we are, i feel extremely bad. should we stop?" you asked him, using your straw to stir the contents of your drink aimlessly.

"if you want to, i'm fine with it." he replied non-chalantly. your hand came to a halt, staring at the twirling ice cubes in your drink.

"or should we start dating for real?" soobin was now stunned, turning to face you, eyes widened, his ears coloured in a red hue.

"what'd you say?"

"i mean it's better this way isn't it? we don't have to lie to our parents anymore!" you exclaimed, completely unaware of the fidgety boy beside you, biting the inside of his cheek.

"that's the reason?" his tone sounded angry and serious, something you weren't used to, you looked at soobin who had his head down, "huh wait, i didn't mean to make you angry soob.."

"please don't make jokes like that." soobin stood up, swinging his bag over one of his shoulders, about to make a move, your first instinct was to grab his wrist, preventing him from leaving you alone.

"wait thats not what i was trying to do, i thought it wouldnt be that much of a differece with us being friends." you explained yourself, speak of the devil your mum decided to walk in, your eyes flickered from your mum to soobin, he mumbled something inaudible for you to hear, "what did you say?"

soobin let out a sigh, bending down to your ear, "i said i'll think about it over the weekend, you should do the same.. about us dating." he whispered, you could feel his lips brushing against your skin, you face slowly heating up at the realisation of how close you were. your eyes followed his every action, from thanking your mum, to leaving the house through the main door. you brain was about to malfunction, causing you to bang your head against the table, clearly flustered from everything that has just occurred.

"jeez what's your problem." your mum jumped at the sudden thud, pushing you a plate of home-cooked food for you to enjoy.

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁

a few days has passed, despite talking to soobin like you always do, you can't help but feel like there's an invisible barrier between the both of you. he seemed out of it, replying you with single word replies, or even just humming a response. you were used to it, but you can't help but think that he was uncomfortable around your presence.

you sat at your desk, resting your head on the table, surrounded by two of your close friends, tuning out their voices while they ramble about something that didn't concern you.

"honestly, if it seems natural for you to hold hands with a guy friend, or even imagining yourself kissing him, you definitely have slight feelings for him." that statement piqued your interest, lifting your head, only to make eye contact with choi soobin, sending your mind into a spiral. you do interlock arms with him, but does that even count as holding hands? your eyes dart down to his lips, your face warmed up at the thought of his lips touching yours, making your groan in frustration.

"what's up with you." your friend questioned, concerned for your sudden outburst. you shook your head, looking back down at your phone.

soob : meet me after school, in the storage room.

yn : what for?

soob : just come find me.

you couldn't ignore the warmth pooling in your chest when you read that message, for the first time in your life, you were afraid to meet soobin.

the school day went by too fast for your liking, you packed up your things, you made your way to the storage room, only to be stopped by a friend of yours from another class.

"yn! are you going home right now? let's go to the convenience store nearby, i missed you." she exclaimed, hope shimmering in her eyes as she waited for your response. you smiled at her apologetically, about to tell her that you weren't available,

"she's not free right now julie, let's go." a familiar voice replied in your stead, his warm hands wrapped around your wrist, dragging you towards the place you were supposed to meet in. julie looked back at the both of you in confusion, "they're weird." she whispered to herself.

soobin closed the door behind him, locking it in the process. you felt uncomfortable, the atmosphere created was awkward and tense, soobin looked down at you, waiting for you to at least say something.

"uhm, did you think about it? about us dating." you asked, your eyes glued to the ground below you.

"yea." you stared at him with wide eyes, you didn't expect him to actually agree with you that fast.

"you didn't think about it right?" you pursed your lips, unable to make eye contact with the much taller male standing infront of you, soobin sighed, "i can't go out with you."

your heart dropped upon hearing those words, "wait no, i just need more time to think about it." you were rambling, your grip around his arm loosening, realising that you couldn't stop anything.

"sorry yn." he apologised, leaving you in the empty storage room, alone with your thoughts. you groaned in frustration, swinging the door open, accidentally scaring people that were walking past, you just wanted to go home, lay in your bed, and drown yourself in homework, distract yourself from dwelling over soobin. you stood at the entrance, realising that it had started to rain, you rummaged through your bag, in search for an umbrella.

"did i forget.." you whispered to yourself, placing your bag onto the ground to thoroughly check your bag, slowly you gave up, zipping up your bag. you leaned against a pillar, watching the rain hit the ground below. you stared up into the dark, gloomy sky, remembering what had just went down earlier. honestly, you weren't serious when you asked soobin that question, you didn't expect him to say yes right away too. however, you were upset that he rejected you so firmly. you knew that soobin was never that firm with you, the soobin you knew was kinder than that. so maybe, he's under the pouring rain right now and worrying about you, maybe he'll come pick you up, because he has always helped you in situations like these.

"yn!" a voice you knew all too well called out to you, you looked up to see a panting soobin, an umbrella over his head, sheltering himself from the heavy rain.

"how many times must i tell you to pack an umbrella." he reprimanded you, eyebrows furrowed as he looked down at you, a concerned look spread across his face.

"you really came." you smiled to yourself, "it's cause it's raining." soobin replied, pulling you to walk in the rain with me.

"you should call your mum, your place is far from here, and it's raining really hard." he suggested, you nodded your head, grabbing your phone from your pocket, dialling your mum's phone number. soobin remained quiet then entire walk back to his place, his arm wrapped around your shoulder, preventing you from getting wet, matching the pace your walked at. maybe he does treat you differently.

"i'm a soobin's place right now, i'll wait for the rain to slow down before i go back home." you informed your mum.

"that's fine! just tell me when you reach home." your mum answered, "yea what did you say?" your mum's voice added, oh your mum forgot to hang up.

"aren't you worried that she's alone with a guy now?" her colleague asked, sounding worried for your safety. you continued to listen in on their conversation, curious on what your mum has to say about your relationship with soobin.

"those two aren't like that! i just tease them sometimes, but i know better than anyone that they're matured kids and wouldn't fool around." your mum defended you, your eyes flickered to soobin who was unlocking the door to his house, right, it was just the two of you in the house now. you quickly ended the call, removing your shoes.

"you can go into my room, i'll get you something to snack on." you muttered a soft okay, taking swift steps into his room, you sat on the cold wooden floor, grabbing your folder from your bag, starting on your revision for an upcoming quiz.

"soobin, i need help with this." you tapped your pen against the question you were stuck on, he closed the door, setting the plate of jellies down on the table, sitting next to you, reading the question. it was quiet, too quiet, you could hear your own breathing, it felt weird, your mind went back to the conversation your mum had with her colleague.

"soobin, wanna know what my mum said earlier?" you flashed a mischievious grin at him, soobin placed his pencil down, "what did she say?"

"she said even if you and i are alone, nothing will happen!" you laughed, "she thinks we're dating. i wonder how could she say that.. that's how much of a gentleman my mum thinks you are! haha. by the way can i borrow some of your clothes?" you joked further. soobin looked at you unamused, agreeing to your last question, going into his closet to grab some of his clothes.

"what's with that face? i only said that for the laughs. what she said wasn't wrong." you pouted, taking his clothes from him, "you said that you had no intention of dating me anyways."

"you didn't even think about dating me." soobin responded, poking your cheek with his finger.

"i'm done with the question, you should try analysing the question first before jumping into it." you hated this, he still helps you with school, and is always so concerned about you, yet why did he reject you? soobin patted your shoulder, asking you to complete the paper.

"why.. don't you wanna go out with me?" your sudden question left soobin stunned.

"that's random.."

"you're fine with everything but you're not fine with that?.." you suddenly remembered the statement your friend had said earlier in the day, "it's not as if i asked if you could kiss me."

"what?" soobin's cheeks flushed, his thoughts going wild, "see you're playing a prank on me again." you grabbed onto his arm, feeling his stiffen under your grip.

"why aren't you answering me?" you were desperate for an answer, you needed an answer, to understand why he does all he does for you, but still decide to close your out and reject you.

"don't tell me you could see yourself kissing me." you looked at soobin in his eyes, he frowned, a nervous bead of sweat trickling down his face, you were too close to him, he felt like he was going to explode.

"why are you doing this to me?"

"you can't?"

"that's enough now." he turned away, only to feel your lips against his cheek.

"i guess, i can haha.." you joked, covering your mouth, averting your eyes from him, "i guess i'm ok with kissing you." soobin was at a daze, his eyes looking at your lips now, lips slightly apart, whatever you said earlier was completely ignored by him.

"oh, just now that was..??" he lundged forward, capturing your lips, your eyes widened at the sudden contact, unable to process what was going on. soobin pulled away slowly, his eyes meeting yours, both of you were flustered, red colouring the tip of soobin's ears.

"sorry.." he apologised.

"i.. i should go now." you mumbled, immediately packing your things, scrambling out of his room, you texted your mum, telling her that you were going home, you took one last look at soobin.

he's totally red. you thought to yourself, covering your own lips, you couldn't believe that it happened in a span of an hour. you ran home under the rain, you didn't care if you were drenched or not, you wanted to escape from his place as soon as possible. that night, you tossed and turned in bed, unable to get any rest.

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁

"are you ok?" chaewon asked, of course you weren't, soobin was infront of you, you couldn't let him see you. you swung your bag infront of you, placing the notebook chaewon passed you in it.

"thanks, you returned it sooner than i expected." you smiled, carrying your bag around your shoulder again.

" i got someone to explain it to me instead, cause i didn't understand most of them." she explained, at this point, you were about to walk beside soobin and his friends.

"woah! really? i guess it's a friend who is really good at maths. come on let's go in." you pushed chaewon, practically making her walk faster.

"you're avoiding him aren't you?" chaewon turned back to look at you. you nodded your head, "i'll tell you in class, just go." you begged, she shrugged her shoulders, excited for the long story you were going to rant about as soon as you were not in the vicinity of choi soobin.

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁

"here are the worksheets you asked for mrs lee." you went to find her in the staff room after classes

"thank you for bringing it here, here eat these." she smiled, taking two packets of biscuits for you. much to your dismay, you heard the door behind you slide open, "oh soobin! come here i'll give you some biscuits too." mrs lee dug through her desk in search for extra biscuits.

"i ran out, yn, share one of these with soobin." your teacher sighed, your voice was soft, almost inaudible, "yes.." your hand reached out to soobin's placing the pack of biscuits in his hand, your fingers grazing against his.

"aren't you two close? i thought you were but you look so awkward with each other right now!" a teacher from behind exclaimed, her statement made you flinch.

"of course they're close, yn nearly fell off the ladder while cleaning the window, do you know how much soobin lectured mr because of that? ever since then i've never asked students to wipe windows that are up high. i thought soobin had feelings for yn." mrs lee giggled, recalling the incident where you almost lost your footing on the steps, trying to remove the speck of dirt on the window.

"oh my goodness, if you say that the kids are gonna feel more awkward." the teacher joked. you turned to your side, noticing the way soobin's ear was coloured in a soft hue of red. if he's slightly embarrased, then you aren't the only one that's feeling self conscious, right?

"i'm just teasing them because they're such good kids! yn and soobin are so proper and well-behaved. they've never caused any trouble too." proper. well-behaved. your head turned to soobin, making eye contact with him.

"i should go clean up before it's too late." soobin made up an excuse, trying to get himself out of the tense atmosphere, as you were about to follow behind soobin, you teacher asked, "i'm asking this out of curiousity, so.. are you two actually dating?"

"huh? it's nothing like that." your words were blunt, immediately turning on your heel to chase after soobin, knowing exactly where he would go to in situations like these. you knocked against the storage room door.

"you're in there right?" your voice was soft and sweet, soobin felt like he would melt right now, the apples of his cheek turning red, "why are you avoiding me too?"

"you were the one who kissed me." you whispered, loud enough for his to hear, soobin rubbed his lips with the back of his hand, unable to shake off the feeling of your lips against his, the taste of your cherry lip balm on the tip of his tongue.

"you know, i'm fine with it right?" that was when the door flung open, revealing soobin looking distraught.

"don't talk about that here." his tone was sheepish, the grip around your wrist tightened, watching you smile at him.

"haha! you were pretending to be fine, but you're actually flustered." you teased, soobin frowned at you, knowing what you'd say next, "i know i kissed you first, but you were the one who kissed me on the mouth–"

"not here." he whispered, his hand cupped around your mouth, preventing you from saying anything more. you removed his hand, looking at him sincerely.

"no one is here to clean yet, you know we have to talk." you uttered, your eyes never leaving his, hope glimmering in your eyes, wanting to have a conversation with him about last night.

"ok, but first, come here." before you knew it, you were dragged into the storage room with soobin again, his hand holding onto yours so carefully like you were glass, while his free hand was placed on your waist, preventing you from failing over. you regained your balance, eyeing down the now unfazed soobin. wasn't he flustered just seconds ago?

you sat on top of a barrel that was somehow in the storage room, pulling soobin along with you, he bent down slightly to ensure that he was eye to eye with you, his hands pinned beside your thighs. his eyes burned into yours, his body language asking you to tell him something.

"in the past, i liked that i felt comfortable around you." you gulped, "but now i'm becoming weird because of you." you brought a finger up to his forehead, poking it.

"i guess i forgot how i used to treat you because we've been pretending to date each other for a while, or maybe it's because you're so nice to me." oh, he was red again, he was wrapped around your finger, you knew his feelings for you, he was too obvious. your heart fluttered, you could smell the scent of his shampoo, and the scent of rain from the leaves that hasn't dried up yet, making you recall the kiss once more.

"this is your fault." you glared, the palm of your hand flushed against his chest.

"what do you mean?" he questioned, squinting his eyes at you. just say you like me you wanted to hear him say it, you wanted to hear him admit it.

"why'd you kiss me yesterday?" you inched your face closer to his, the strong, yet simple scent of his cologne filled your nostrils, his hot breath fanned against your lips, his black rimmed glasses sitting on the top of his nose making him more attractive than usual.

"i.. don't know." those were the words that came out of soobin's lips, as much as you anticipated it, he wasn't someone who would just admit his feelings, you felt disappointed. you two stared at each other in silence, you bit the inside of your cheek.

"soobin, i think we should stop lying to each other, i'll go on and tell you the truth, i lied about the reason why we should date each other. i know i said that if we dated for real, we wouldn't have to lie to my mum, but i realised that i can't control how i feel about someone." you paused, taking in the look soobin was giving you, you smiled to yourself, "i really don't know when i started to feel this way, but before i knew it, i had feelings for you."

your arms wrapped around soobin's neck, playing with the back of his hair, the tip of his ears turning red by the second, "i like you soobin."

"you like me too right? it's your turn to tell me the truth." again, your teasing grin slowly grew on your lips, soobin scowled at you, leaning closer to your lips, leaving a chaste kiss against them, "yeah, i like you too." your grin grew larger when you finally heard those words come out of his mouth

"when did you start having feelings for me." your hands pressed against his cheeks, soobin dropped into the crook of your neck, "i don't know, a long time now.."

you giggled at his response, patting his head, "that's nice to hear."

now that summer fades into autumn, the relationship between you and soobin blooming like the changing leaves, as he stares at you with overflowing love, he's reminded of the time when he fell for you. during autumn, where the season changes from summer to making him fall deeply for you, and history repeats itself, this time with sweet kisses and warm hugs.

perm taglist! (send an ask to be added :D) @mrsyawnzzn @tinyelfperson @woncheecks @boba-beom @naveries @be-argyu @defnotleee @babymochibeargyu

[gibsongirlsundaymorning]

noise complaints (part 2)

A/N: Fine you gay people win. Here’s part two… sorry if it’s horrible, I am NOT a writer and I did NOT spellcheck this. Also I now realize she was technically going by Agnes at the time bc she was still under the spell when she was in her cop era… too lazy late to fix it ❤️

Summary: After Agatha finds you and Rio outside of the party she busted surrounded by two guys from your high school, she feels she has a few lessons to teach you two. (Reading part one is highly suggested!)

Warnings: smut, strap-on use, degradation and praise, vouyerism, impact play, fingering, oral, punishment, mean!Agatha, gunplay if you squint and spin three times, orgasm denial, bondage, masturbation, Rio being too bratty for her own good, use of “Y/N”, I don’t know if I can be more specific than this, it’s filth!

Pairing: Older!Cop!Dom!Agatha x Younger!Sub!R x Brat!Sub!Rio

NSFW below the cut MDNI!

After the cruel scolding that was sure to be only the beginning of the harsh words you and Rio would face that night, Agatha drags the two of you back to her patrol car by your wrists. You stumbled over your feet, trying your hardest to keep up with your furious girlfriend; Meanwhile Rio dragged her feet along reluctantly, trying desperately to keep up her careless, tough exterior and get a rise out of the cop.

Rio is thrown into the passenger side of the car, her hair nearly caught in the door as Agatha slams it, leading you towards the back door.

“At least one of my sluts is eager to please… Keep it up and maybe you can get what you want tonight.” She shouts the last part, addressing you, but directing the comment towards your brattier counterpart, who was now fidgeting in the front seat.

Agatha gets in the car, starting it up and taking off on the short ride back to your shared home. Rio’s placement in the front of the car was meant to keep her in check, keep her in Agatha’s direct line of vision and in close reach for reprimand. Rio had different ideas of how to use her forced proximity.

Your older girlfriend’s breathing had just reached some sort of equilibrium, no longer audibly seething through her breaths alone, when Rio reached over the console and slid her hand into Agatha’s lap. Much to your horror, Agatha just laughs.

“You have no idea what you’re getting yourself into, doll. You have five seconds to take your hand and keep it to yourself before I decide you’ll be sleeping in the guest room for the next week.” Rio, of course, waits until the very end of those five seconds before dragging her hand back across Agatha’s lap, making sure to brush her covered core ever-so-slightly before bringing it back to her side of the console to pout. You shudder under the reflection of Agatha’s hooded gaze in the rear view mirror as she grinds her teeth down against each other in a fiery frustration.

The silence and tension grows more and more palpable as the drive comes to an end when Agatha throws the cruiser into park at the top of your driveway, right next to Rio’s precious bike. She wasn’t exactly being careful to swerve away from it.

Before you could even think of reaching for your door handle, it was thrown open and you and Rio were being forced into the home. You were at the front, being pushed into the house by Agatha’s right hand, which was tangled in your hair and gripping it into a ponytail. Rio was being dragged in the back by Agatha’s tight grip on her ear. If you didn’t know better, you’d be giggling at the way the slightly taller girl resembled a misbehaving child being scolded by her upset mother. If Rio knew better, she wouldn’t have acted like a misbehaving child.

It was clearly too late for this when Agatha practically tossed you two into the house, all in the same manner as you’d seen her do with her bags after a long day at work. She ran her tongue between her top teeth and her top lip as she looked you and your girlfriend up and down, almost as if deciding between a library of options for how to deal with the two of you.

“Both of you, go to my room now and be ready for me in the next minute… Y/N, pick something pretty out from my drawer, would you, hun?” With that, she had decided.

As you and Rio made your way into your bedroom and Rio made her way to the edge of the bed, you slid the drawer open and instinctively grabbed your favorite from the assortment, a small and quiet but powerful bullet that Agatha could control from her phone. You were hoping she’d use it on you again, but there was no point in asking once she walked in, because it would almost surely earn you the exact opposite.

She walks in to find you sitting on your heels at the same spot at the edge of the bed where Rio sat, manspreading and fidgeting with the seam on her shirt. She takes the small purple toy from your hands and kisses the top of your head, a chillingly gentle gesture in contrast with her bubbling anger that night. Her hand slips from the side of your jaw to the underside of your chin, tilting your head up just a bit so that you were looking up and meeting her eyes with your own. “Such a good choice, sweet girl.”

She then turns to Rio, who hasn’t yet given up her false tough demeanor. “Kiss her. How you were before I walked in early tonight. Pretend I’m not even here, and God help you if you hold back even the slightest bit.” With that, she sat down in the large armchair directly in the eye line from where you sat.

Rio smiles slyly and slides her hands into the back of your head, tangling her digits in your hair as she meets your lips with her own. Your own hands, shaking, find her hips as she deepens the kiss and straddles you as you’re still sitting on your knees with rigid posture that reflects your nervousness outwardly. When you finally melt into her touch the slightest bit, losing yourself in her confident dominance, you hear Agatha stand and are suddenly enveloped in her shadow as Rio is yanking away from you.

Or rather, being yanked away. You note Agatha’s grip around Rio’s waves as she speaks in an even more gravely voice than usual, “That was your final chance to prove yourself as something more than a greedy bitch. Get in the chair.”

She swallows, devoid of any of the dominance from seconds prior, and climbs into the chair Agatha had just risen from. The latter takes Rio’s seat next to you, but lifts you onto her lap with your right leg slotted between her own, your center falling onto the top of her right thigh. Once you could see clearly again as the rush of her rough fingers around your waist simmered the smallest bit, you realized you were sitting on something… hard? and let out an involuntary whisper.

Agatha looks down at where your legs meet and then back at you, grinning like the devil, as Rio writhes in her seat. Agatha immediately clocks the movement from over your shoulder. “If you ever want me to make you come again, you’ll sit still and enjoy the show I’m so generously giving you after your disgusting displays tonight.” Rio reluctantly complies. She returns her attention to you, now digging her fingers into your hips with bruising force, and guides you ever-so-slightly back and forth against the pressure below you. “Agatha?” you breathe out.

“Yeah, angel?” The title almost makes you forget what was supposed to follow your initial words. The hardness below you reminds you quickly. “Are you… did you wear the strap to work?” you nearly whisper, the question barely audible to your other girlfriend, who sat still now and held onto every word from you and the woman below you uttered. “No, baby, try again.”

It seems as if all the blood in your body rushes to your face as you realize that what you were grinding down onto wasn’t the strap you’d been mercilessly filled with time after time, but her patrol weapon. It was mind-blowingly filthy and embarrassing to you, which brought both Agatha and Rio more pleasure than any other act the three of you had carried out together could. “Keep moving those pretty hips, hun. Don’t shy away from being a slut now, it’s a little too late for that.” You bit your lip hard enough to taste the same metallic tang from before you left the same room earlier that night as you hid your blushing face in the crook of the cop’s neck.

“Hey, come back, angel, I’ve got a question for you.” You look up reluctantly, dreading the eye contact you knew she would demand as you spoke. “Yes ma’am.” She chuckled lowly at this, “Oh, what, now you wanna be good for me? Nice try. What I was wondering…. was if you think our greedy girl over there should get to join us.” You look over your shoulder at the desperate woman, your eyes glossing over at the sight of her thighs pressed together so tightly they could surely suffocate you if your head found its way between them as it so often did. You turn back to Agatha and offer only a nod, not trusting your breath to stay loyal to you.

Agatha curled a finger, beckoning your girlfriend over and watching as she scrambled to the bed. “Now, Y/N, do you think I should use this” she held up the toy you’d previously picked out from her collection “on Rio here? Think it’d be fun to see her crumble under the stimulation and forget all about her little stone-cold act?” You nodded quicker than you knew possible. “No, I need words.” You swallow and breathe in shakily, hips still moving on their own accord. “Yes. Please, wanna see.” She just smiles and lifts you off of her leg as she readies her attention on the other girl.

“I think she has to earn it.”

Ok guys this was like… part 1.5, the first half of part 2 of the OG post. The rest of the warnings will apply to the next part if they weren’t in this one, and I’m hoping to have that one out like the middle of next week! LMK what yall wanna see in the next part beside what I have planned :)

Also for those who wanted to be tagged: @sunshine-makes-flowers-grow @wandaslittlelove @babybeeelle @believe-in-magic13 @reeselov3salexvause @ahintofchaos @girlwithissuesworld @lovelyy-moonlight @teenybean @jorddddddddd

[kteezy997]

Lady in Waiting-Part 12//King Hal

Warnings: mention of sex

A few weeks later…

You sat in the palace library with Hal, curled up in the lap of the King as he read aloud from a historical story.

The both of you cupped your slightly rounded belly. You relaxed your head against his chest. His voice was soothing as he read, you closed your eyes, thinking you would be lulled to sleep at any moment.

A few moments after closing your eyelids, you heard him say, "Well, if I am putting you to sleep, I cannot imagine what I am doing to the baby." he sighed.

"Oh Hal," you opened your eyes, looking up at him as you touched his face, "the baby does not care, as long as they hear their daddy's soothing voice, they are happy."

"You do not think a King will be too boring as a parent?" he asked, not shying away from being vulnerable with you.

"Of course not!” you tucked your finger onto his chin, making him look you in the eyes. “This child will be delighted to learn from their father and their king. You are so dear Hal, you will always be there for them and they will love you no matter what."

He hummed with a gleeful grin, rubbing your stomach. He kissed your firmly on the temple, "I cannot wait to meet him or her. I hope they are just like you, and I shall fall in love with them the same way."

You snuggled him closer, taking the fabric of his lightweight cloak into your fist. “And I hope they are strong and intelligent, like their father.”

“You flatter me too much, my sweet girl.” he leaned in, kissing your lips this time. “We should retire for the evening. You will need rest, especially after a round of lovemaking.” he smirked cheekily at you before rising up from couch you were sharing.

Your heart sank a little, having to tell him the news from the doctor. “Oh Hal, about that… we really should not take part in intimacy, not like that anyway.”

The King blinked a few times, confused, “What? Why?”

“The doctor said he would not recommend it during the pregnancy. ‘It is such a fragile time for a woman’, he said.”

“But I would be most gentle.” he cooed, moving toward you, taking your hands into his.

You blushed, even after everything you had been through together, he still had the ability to make you feel weak in the knees. "I know you would." you squeezed his hands, "But let's talk about this later. I want to get some sleep, I wish to speak with the Queen tomorrow." You dropped one of his hands and tucked your fingers into the laces of his other hand to lead him to your bedchambers.

"Hm." he hummed, "Are you sure that the timing is right, my love?"

"I think so. We have to try at some point.”

.........

The next morning, you knocked on Queen Sophia's door.

"Enter!" she called.

You pushed the door open, smiling softly at her as you stepped into her room with light caution. You did not expect objects to be flung at you, but you did not expect the warmest of welcomes either. "Hello, Your Grace."

"Oh, y/n." she answered, smiling back at you.

"Is it alright if I come in?"

"Yes, of course, please." she said calmly, gesturing for you to have a seat on her bed as she was sat down at her vanity.

You smoothed the back of your dress as you sat down and placed your hands on your lap. Clearing your throat, you started, "Sophia, I am forever sorry for hurting you the way I did."

"I know you are, y/n. But there is no reason to apologize anymore. I understand." she was shockingly calm.

"What do you... understand?" you frowned.

"You and I have been intertwined for a long time. And it's taken these last few weeks for me to realize how much I have taken you for granted. So it is I who should apologize to you. I am sorry for not treating you better all these years.”

You sighed, shaking your head, "It is okay."

"What I understand, is that you love him. That he is the only thing you have ever had that is just yours. It is a special thing, and I am happy for you."

"Thank you, Sophia. That means so very much to hear it from you." you wanted to touch her hand, to let her feel your warmth, but you kept still for now.

"You deserve happiness, more than anyone I know. Old Lady Agnes has been helping me these last few weeks, doing handmaiden things.” she shrugged, “And I have realized that it was never really about fixing my hair or picking my dresses, but it was you. You were a friend to me, a confidant, when I really did not deserve one." It was difficult for Sophia to say, she looked down at her lap.

You felt sad for her, remembering that you really cared for her as well. You sniffed, and touching her shoulder you said, "Everyone deserves a friend."

The Queen blinked back tears as she stood, opening up her arms for an embrace.

You obliged, standing as well and hugging her for the first time ever. It was soft, warm, and absolutely genuine. "Oh, my Queen. Could we be friends, do you think?"

"Yes, I would love that.” she pulled away from the embrace, holding onto your upper arms, “We can do everything we used to do, but you would not be my servant." she pulled away from the hug, clapping her hands together and grinning from ear to ear, "Oh this is going to be such fun! I promise there will be no jealousy. I want you and Hal to be happy. I think your child will be such a blessing.”

Smiling, you added, “I hope you will soon have a blessing of your own.”

.........

You felt so happy and warm on the inside, finally resolving with Sophia.

“Is there a reason I did not see you all day long? And why are you smiling like that, my love?” Hal questioned as you readied for bed.

“I had a great day with Sophia.” you answered.

“Oh? Good, so what has she been doing with her time? Has she gone to the children’s shelter?”

“Yes! She said she has and it has really opened her eyes. You know, she has never really known what life is like out there, beyond living in a castle. She has gotten to know some of the children there. Some of them have lost both parents, so she dotes on them, she hugs them tighter than the rest. She longs to be a mother, I know she does, Hal.” you looked at him, seeing him nod softly.

Your King took a moment to think, sitting on the bed, he asked, “Do you think I should offer myself to her?”

“Offer yourself?” you laughed, “Like a servant?” You walked over in front of him, kneeling down, touching his legs. You sighed, “Maybe you could talk to her about giving her a baby soon. Tomorrow, perhaps.”

You felt the smooth brush of his palm on your cheek as he rested his hand there. “Alright. But I need you first.”

@gatoenlaciudad @thebetawolfgirl @musicandbooksaremyhappyplace @softhecreator @tchalamss @lixzey @bitchyunknownuser @ducktapebar @aoi-targaryen @yukideadinside @elloise0 @thatoneweirdgirl17 @mel-vaz @sammy-halpert @iwishchalamet @that-one-fangirl69 @jindongdongie @briefkittenearthquake @imnotoverlyobsessive

[savingsallow]

— (5) Sad Facts About Val

Things about my MC— Valentine Black —that make me question why I let my child suffer.

content warning: contains themes of trauma, grief, mention of loss of loved ones, nightmares, mental health struggles, isolation and emotional distress. please proceed with caution.

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1.) Recurring Nightmares

Val enjoyed a happy and healthy relationship with her parents despite their identities as dark wizards. The first four years of her life were filled with laughter and joy. In fact, many of her fondest memories are vivid, tracing back to her early childhood.

But that joy was short-lived.

Tragically, Val witnessed her parents' deaths while hiding in a cabinet, peering through a small hole. This traumatic event became one of her most haunting recurring nightmares, alongside the vivid memory of her best friend's lifeless body from her time at the Muggle boarding school.

These nightmares drive Val to avoid sleep whenever possible; short naps are the worst, bringing her the most haunting visions of her past. At night, she bravely travels into her dreams, seeking patterns and lessons, yet she always awakens in terror. To distract herself, she immerses herself in her projects and ideas.

Though her erratic sleep schedule takes a toll on her health, it has unexpectedly allowed her to excel in her studies—particularly in her favorite subjects like potions. She even created a potion fitting for her situation called the "Vitality Veil." As the name suggests, it restores natural vigor and creates a subtle aura of vitality that enhances one’s appearance and can last up to 12 hours.

Essentially, it’s a potion that makes Val seem put together, while in truth, she feels like a chaotic mess.

2.) Stealth Mastery

After being reluctantly adopted by her uncle, Val realized her freedom had limits. She has always resisted authority, never one to follow rules blindly. By day, she mastered the art of compliance, driven by a desperate need for her new family's approval; by night, however, she let herself roam free.

Val knows all the creaky floorboards to avoid, as well as the hidden passages where she can escape. She scours the house for a safe haven to dive into her latest obsession—be it a book about the universe or potion experiments.

House-elves often assisted her in sneaking around unnoticed. The house-elves of the House of Black, including Kreacher and Scrope, became her friends. Sometimes they'd play wizard’s chess together or cook meals for her as she immersed herself in her books and potions.

3.) Isolation

Val has never felt a true sense of belonging. Growing up in London, her extended family made it clear—especially during family gatherings—that she was a burden. Desperate for their affection, she felt the need to don a deranged mask, something she hated but believed was necessary for survival.

Feeling like an outsider in her family was compounded by her alienation in the Muggle world, where her peers considered her an oddball. This constant rejection cultivated a friendship with solitude. It spurred her obsession with researching topics of interest and experimenting with potions in her own unique way.

The closest companions she had were the house-elves, her stuffed animals (which Aunt Ursula eventually disposed of), and her best friend from the Muggle boarding school—who tragically passed away too soon. In the depths of isolation, Val found a friend in solitude, and beneath her facade of preoccupations lies a profound sense of loneliness.

4.) Silent Cries

Though Val has grown more comfortable expressing her emotions, especially at Hogwarts, she struggles to cry in public. It’s not that she doesn’t want to; it’s that she can’t bring herself to do so. Raised in an environment that viewed emotions as weaknesses, she grappled with her naturally expressive nature.

Her Aunt Ursula would lock her in her room for showing strong feelings, teaching Val to control her emotions too well—so well, in fact, that she finds it difficult to cry, even when the urge washes over her. Instead, she has learned to cry silently, in the quiet of night when no one can see.

Even after making friends in her fifth year and gradually opening up to them, Val has never shed tears in their presence.

One of the few times Val almost cried in front of her friends was when she witnessed Sebastian spiraling down a darker path in a misguided attempt to "save his sister," all while seeing Ominis worry for him as he used Unforgivable curses, a path he had vowed to abandon.

Conflicted and terrified, Val struggled to think of the next right steps to take to help her friends, all while handling her growing yet destructive fire magic and Ancient Magic, both of which were becoming unstable due to her involvement with the Dark Arts, especially the Unforgivables.

5.) Layers

Having endured so much, Val has constructed walls around her heart, protecting whatever happiness remains.

At first glance, one might assume she leads a lighthearted and comfortable life; many perceive her as a spoiled brat from the House of Black, underestimating her bubbly personality.

But beneath this facade lies a heart marred by trauma. Though she may seem like an open book, with her genuine remarks and emotional transparency, don’t be deceived. Beneath that cheerful exterior lies a guarded, wounded soul.

Her trust issues run deep; as a child, she invented her own alphabet so no one could decipher her journal entries. Later, at Hogwarts, she enchanted her journal, rendering her words invisible to others—only her whimsical doodles visible to the untrained eye.

Once she begins to share her secrets—like her treasured niffler stuffed toy—freely divulges her quirky ideas, lets you hug her, and miraculously allows you to witness her tears, then you have truly earned her trust.

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🥞 thanks for reading this rather angsty facts! ❤️‍🔥

🥞 non native english speaker, so teeny tiny grammatical errors are very much possible XD

🥞 casually lore dropping bc why not

🥞 leaving here more links about val in case you're a newbie to her lore:

✨ 10 Facts About Val

✨ Val & Hairstyle

✨ Val's Character Introduction