#and then he simply..... is there crying about his wife and then he dies like okay

[soapybutt17]

The Next of Kin

Summary: Simon needed to update his contact information, as dodgy as he was for giving everyone even a glimpse of his private life, he did so. Who would have ever thought that it would become handy after an injury left him high on painkillers and needy for his girls back home. Character: Simon "Ghost" Riley x Wife!Reader. OC Daughter (Cassandra "Cassie" Riley). John Price. Word Count: 1,615 Chapter Warnings: Mentions of Injuries. Drug Consumption. Slight Angst. Mostly fluff.

Masterlist || Request are Open

It was the annual checkup in the base, something that Simon had dreaded the most knowing what it entails. Not only was his current and past injuries being monitored but he was all too certain about the wacky doctor would also make an appearance to check on his mental state. It wasn’t a fun time as any of his other team mates point it out to be.

“Should we update your emergency contact, Lieutenant Riley?” The nurse had inquired dealing with his medical records.

A part of him wanted to say no, but remembering what was waiting for him home, he could not allow himself to break his wife’s heart as well as his own daughter if the time ever comes that he dies in the middle of battle. He would want to ensure if ever that was to happen, you would know and hope that you would move on.

“Yes,” He agreed accepting the clipboard and pen handed to him.

Without an ounce of hesitation, he wrote your name and your number under his emergency contacts.

His handwriting was decent and readable at best, chicken scratch at worst as Johnny had eloquently pointed out during reports. But there was this special care with the way he wrote your first name and his last name that you were more than happy to take as soon as you married all those years ago. Your number was ingrained to his brain as he wrote it, having forced himself to memorize in the event he didn’t have his personal phone with him and simply a burner phone for missions.

What truly took him a second to write was the blank space dedicated to his relationship with you. No one knew he was in a relationship, nor did anyone know about his marriage. It took him a full two minutes before he found himself slowly opening the flood gates of his personal life that he had tried his best to hide from the world.

“Never knew you were married, Lieutenant.”

“Never planned on letting anyone know about it.” He spoke honestly, the cold demeanor and tone enough to stop the conversation from going further about his personal life.

Little did Simon know that the upcoming mission would lead to him having to make use of the emergency contact.

~

When you had begun your relationship with one Simon Riley, you had always accepted that he would always be gone for uncertain amounts of months in a year, you had accepted that part of him. How mission would always mean the world was a little safer from the dangers of man. You accepted all the big and small flaws that came with Simon and even in your eventual marriage and the birth of your daughter, you had come to accept the danger that would come in missions that would place him badly bruised or beaten beyond repair. You would always be there to tend to each and every single wounds and be the shoulder for him to cry on when he was good and ready.

But nothing could have ever prepared you for another unknown call coming from your phone. You’ve always expected it to be your husband, checking up on you before the mission begins like he always does. But the voice of an unknown man was the last thing you would have expected.

He called himself John Price and you know the man from your husband’s few conversations when he talks about the people he works with. You had feared for the worst as soon as he had explained that your husband has just gotten out of surgery after a mission. A few broken bones and a superficial gunshot wound. But it was enough to worry you as Simon himself has been asking for you as soon as he was out of surgery and in lucid consciousness.

On most days you were calm and collected, but it was the panic of seeing the worse of your husband that had you carrying your two year old and a baby bag towards your car with a mission. The Captain had asked if you could possibly have someone come get him but you know no one else better to check up on him but yourself and your daughter that was all the more excited about being in the car.

The travel was rather long and rather tedious knowing you and your husband had agreed to live away from the city and away from any dangers that may come to you and the baby while he was gone. You had appreciated the distance, the peaceful tranquility that came with being away from the bustle and noise of the city but not this time. It had meant a longer journey and a more hectic one since the base was all the way across the other side.

Once you had arrived to the base, all eyes were on you. Many eyes had lingered on you when they heard your last name. You know for a fact that your husband’s name and reputation beholds him, but you never knew nor did you ever try to question to what extent. It unnerved you more was how avoidant everyone had been of you aside from one of the soldiers tasked with bringing you and your daughter to your husband.

Outside the infirmary room was a rugged man. The man exudes an air or control and intensity and rugged strength, but not as much as your husband did. His posture was upright, suggesting discipline and years of military training. Dressed in an all too familiar tactical gear, he gives off a no-nonsense vibe that immediately commands attention.

“Ma’am, my name is John Price.” The man introduced the moment he caught sight of you.

You spoke your name and your daughter that was surprisingly all too mum in the whole situation, you were surprised that she wasn’t crying at being in an unfamiliar environment like she usually was.

“It is best to assume that you two are Simon’s wife and daughter, I presume?” He inquired.

You took a moment to think if it was alright to agree with his statement. Knowing your husband and the array of precaution he had come to give you, you were uncertain if you could trust the man with such a fact.

“Yes.” You spoke, dealing with the consequence later as there was something more important that needed your attention. “How’s he doing?” You inquired wanting to change the subject now.

“Stable. A little loopy from the drugs, but he’ll make a fast recovery.”

You nodded, hesitation of asking if you would be allowed to see him now in his state.

“He was looking for you.” He opened the door for you and you were welcomed with your husband in bed with his mask still on.

“Dada!” Your daughter squealed upon the sight of your husband groggy still.

You watched as his head turned to look at you and your daughter.

“Love…” He grunted wincing at the pain that you were certain that was coming in full force now.

“I’m here, Baby.” You whispered approaching him, cupping his cheeks gently. “Me and Cassie are here.” You assured trying your best to hide the tears that were fighting to fall at the sight of him.

~

When Simon Riley had opened his eyes, the first thing that he had come to notice was the pain that surrounded his entire body. The next thing that he noticed was the warmth that wrapped around his calloused hand.

Turning his head he saw the most beautiful sight that he had the fortune of seeing in his life. His wife and daughter. The more pressing matter was the fact that you were asleep in an all too familiar uncomfortable plastic chair with one hand on him, and your other arm held onto your baby sleeping on your chest.

“Baby…” He grunted harsher than he intended.

Slowly blinking away, your eyes immediately turned down towards your daughter before your eyes met his own.

“How are you holding up?” You inquired immediately, trying your best not to wake your sleeping daughter still cradled snuggly on your chest.

“Like a bitch.” He muttered appreciating being able to swear with his daughter still asleep. “But I’ll live.”

“I’m glad.” You sighed, rubbing his hand tenderly. “I was so worried about you when your boss called me. I thought something worse has happened.” You whispered.

“I didn’t really want to worry you—or have you see me like this.” He muttered.

“I know.” You nodded gently letting go of his hand to cup his cheeks that still was covered with his mask. “But I’m still as glad to be here right now knowing you’re alright. Me and Cassie get to see you’re alright.”

At the mention of your daughter, Simon noticed his daughter begin to get fussy from your chest. Gently pushing himself up until he sat on his bed much to your protest, he took your now crying daughter into his arms, gently laying her onto his chest and how quick she was sated in his warmth.

“Daddy’s here, Angel. I’m here.” He began to whisper, pulling off his balaclava to kiss his daughter onto top of her head. “I’m not going soon for a while. I promise.”

He has yet to tell you about the doctor’s insistence that he takes a few months off. It would be something he would tell when you get home. Once he finishes up with the paper works, he’ll let you know of the good news. For now, all that’s important was he had you and his daughter here with him, even in his most vulnerable state.

#cod mw2 #simon riley x reader #ghost mw2 #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley #simon riley #simon riley fanfic #fem reader #simon riley mw2 #simon riley x female reader #cod fic #mw2 fic #mw2 x you #mw2 x reader #ghost riley #simon riley fluff

[ponderingmoonlight]

(y/n) comforting her husband Gojo after he was forced to kill his best friend

Pairing: husband!Gojo x reader

Word Count: 1k

Synopsis: The man who seems goofy all day, who never takes anything serious breaks down in his wife's arms after he killed his best friend.

Warning: hurt/comfort, death of Suguru, just a lil oneshot from that anon request I received yesterday, like/comment/reblog if you enjoy <3

„Satoru“, you whisper softly into the night, his frame standing in the door of your shared apartment.

You weren’t able to get there on time, to be there for him when he needed you the most. While you were out there fighting curses, Satoru was forced to kill his best friend. Why? Why does he have to endure this never-ending pain, the torture of being the strongest? Wasn’t it enough that he lost his best friend? Why on earth did all of this happen? You can't even imagine how horrible he must feel.

“Oh, hey babe! Hope you’re doing fine!”, he greets you with a wide smile, his blindfold hiding the pain in his bright blue orbs from the world.

You can feel your heart shatter inside your chest. He is never able to be sad, never able to show how he truly feels. Not even when he’s alone with you, his wife, he lets go of his façade. And while you were always able to accept the stinging fact that he’ll never let you see everything, this doesn’t seem to be enough tonight.

“How are you feeling?”

He simply shrugs his shoulders while letting himself drop onto the couch next to you casually.

“Definitely better than the rest. Damn, have you seen how beat up the kids were? Oh, do you remember that one curse who-“

“Satoru”, you interrupt him softly.

Gently, you caress his cheek the way he always loves, watching as the wide grin on his face disappears with every skilled stroke of your hand.

“You know that this wasn’t what I meant.”

He lets out his breath, body suddenly so firm against your touch that he seems to tense every muscle in his body.

“So there’s really no way out of this conversation, huh?”, he mumbles.

The man right in front of you isn’t the Gojo Satoru everyone loves and curses at the same time. No, at the moment he isn’t the strongest, the teacher, the savior.

At the moment he’s just Satoru.

“Come on, take that mask off.”

Gradually, your fingers open the knot of his blindfold. You wait a second, give him the chance to protest against your actions. But when he stays silent, you slide his blindfold off his gorgeous face, revealing the heaviest eyes you’ve ever seen.

“I’m tired, (y/n). I’m so damn tired”, he finally gives in with low voice.

You have to swallow hard, concentrate all your composure on not breaking down and cry. His eyes don’t shine as bright as they usual do, the dark circles showing more than urgently that Satoru is far beyond being exhausted.

“I still don’t get why he did all that shit, why he had to die today”, he continues, resting his head against the couch while plainly staring at the ceiling.

“And that I’m the one who finished him. He’s my best friend, (y/n). The one and only…”

“None of this is your fault-“

“Is it really, though? I should have been more attentive back then, should have been there for him, I-“

“This is not your fault”, you insist.

No, you simply can't allow him to talk about himself like this, to load even more responsibitly on his very own shoulders.

“Who says he wouldn’t have chosen this path even with you by his side? Who says you would have been able to stop him? Suguru was surrounded by friends and horror, had multiple chances to change his mind. He knew that this would happen someday, he was ready to die for this. None of this will ever be your fault, Satoru.”

“And what about all the others? Yuta, Maki, Toge and Panda almost getting killed, Haibara, the countless sorcerers who lost their lives. All these non-jujutsu sorcerers who died because of me. How long will it go on like this? And what if I’ll snap just like Suguru did? I…I can’t do this anymore.”

He lets out a shaky breath, eyes on the brink of overflowing with tears. Never in your life have you seen your husband this vulnerable, brought down by life itself. And the worst is that you can’t help him. No, there are no word that could take away his pain. There are no words to comfort him over his best friends’ death, over the countless other people who died because he’s alive.

“There is nothing I can say to cheer you up”, you finally admit.

Gently, you sit on your knees and bend over him, hands cupping his cheeks.

“But even though you don’t deserve this, even though you feel like you’re worthless I want you to remember that you are loved. Haibara loved you, Suguru loved you until the very end and I do. I will love through no matter what, I’ll stay right here by your side through it all. You don’t have to hide your tears from me, you don’t have to pretend that you’re fine when you’re far away from being fine.”

“I’m not, (y/n). I’m so far away from fine that I feel like I’ll never be happy again”, he mutters with trembling lips.

Just before a tear falls down his cheek you catch it with your finger.

“And it is more than natural to feel this way”, you reply softly.

“Do you think…Do you think he was my friend until the end?”

“Oh, he definitely was. Even though you didn’t have the same opinion, Suguru will always be your friend.”

He gifts you a small smile when another wave of tears haunts him.

“Can you hold me please?”

Your husband doesn’t have to ask twice. You let yourself fall against his chest, caress the back of his head while he swallows you with his arms, presses you firmly against his body while crying his heart out.

“I love you, (y/n). God, I love you so much”, he mutters against your neck, covers you with tiny kisses until you don’t know how to breathe anymore.

“I love you too, babe. Let’s just stay here for a while.”

“Yeah. Staying here sounds good…”

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#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojo x reader #jjk gojo #gojo satoru #jujutsu gojo #gojo saturo #gojou satoru x reader #jujutsu kaisen gojo #satoru gojo #geto #satoru #jjk fanfic

[rizsu]

you're married to geto suguru, yet you plan to kill him. interesting, right? truth be told; you despise suguru. you loathe his touch, hate his voice, detest his entire person as a whole. you never loved him — it was simply just toleration.

suguru... he's a decent husband, at most. he gives you money — which is most important — he buys you gifts, he's home, at least. suguru gives you everything but himself. you cried for his touch, he never gave it. you begged for his presence, he said he had pressing business to attend to. he's the best but worst fucking husband ever.

it's not only his negligence, it's him slowly replacing you with someone else. slowly, but surely, you've noticed that another person has been consuming your presence, wringing you dry of the little authority you had within the geto residence. at first, it bothered you to the core. every time you spoke to suguru about these concerns, your voice echoed through the walls like a broken record. in one ear and out the other; heard but not listened.

your tears dropped, yet to him it did nothing but cause a wet mess. he'd always sigh, feeling guilty to leave you spiraling in your emotions. "don't cry, love," he'd say, whispering sweet nothings in your head. he'd bring you to his chest, completely swallowing you in his hold. his fingers would caress your body, reminding you that you're a geto, you're apart of him now. you're not alone. only the foolish marionette will melt in its master's dull words. once the marionette was you, twice is what it won't be.

the honeymoon phase wilted, what's left is nothing short of two adults tied together by a piece of paper. a liar is what you refuse to be. if anyone may ask, you will not lie. it's true, your heart feels heavy. you miss the suguru you met as naive teenagers, you miss the suguru who loved you from the moon and back. unfortunately, what comes must go. you've grown tired of being the sole one who reminds him about anniversaries and birthdays.

his effort to maintain the marriage no longer exists. his attraction to the mistress heightens every week. it hurts, yes, but you're numb to it. hell be damned you've become the forgotten wife but never will you ever be the wife who allows her cheating husband to be.

no, never. they won't get a laugh out of you — they won't get the last say. the blame glazes over both, yet it soaks suguru more. as a married man, he should've known better than to entertain a mere lady's lust to him. now comes his price to pay, and soon she will pay hers. a circus that walks together, dies together.

it's never easy planning a murder. you don't want to get caught — prison isn't somewhere you'd want to be. the easiest and most effiecent way to ensure suguru's death will be poisoning. not just any poisoning, however. a poison that kills naturally; something that'll make his death appear natural.

suguru's always been a healthy man, using an excuse such as "he fell ill," won't work. he doesn't have much enemies. his peers loved him. a death by food poisoning seems much more acceptable. food poisoning occurs in many ways: for example, if the food has been left out for too long, boom, food poisoning. it's not unusual for one to die by it, so the plan sets sail.

──

one: errands.

as usual, your role of playing the forgotten wife will remain the same. running your ‘errands’ will be as easy as flipping a page, suguru pays you no attention. today it'll be the same. the only obstacle would be to find the energy to arise off of the bed.

the subtle sunlight grants the room a warming aura, giving the perfect contrast together with the air conditioner. like always, suguru's gone. the only trace of him being here would be your memory of him sneaking in last night. at least he has enough manners to not wake you.

same old, same old. you'll only waste your energy worrying about him, let's just finish the morning routine.

"morning," out of habit, you greet the empty house. coming out of slumber to be greeted by an empty home used to do numbers to you. now, it doesn't. its merely a house cosplaying as a home.

the oh-so fluttering dreams of a married life with suguru have dusted away. if only you can go back in time and stop your lovesick self. whatever, no use dwelling on it now. there's a plan to layout.

a single toasted slice of bread, your bottle of water, a handbag, and the car keys are all you took out the door with you. the house keys are attached together with the car keys so it's not a worry. not like you'll be back before suguru anyway.

the drive feels silent. although the radio's on, it feels empty. maybe it's the effects of your clouded mind, or maybe it's you attempting to clear your mind. either way, it's nothing but trivial matters. at this very moment you most likely have to stitch up a lie believable enough to obtain the poison.

chilly, is what you think. you're at the destination; it's an apartment complex that was in the makings but was abandoned. it's dirty, puddles of water decorate the floor, and its filled with dealers and criminals alike. can't blame them, it's the perfect place for a hideout. coming here alone as a woman is something you'd never do... without a weapon that is. you don't own a gun, but you do own a pocket knife.

"psst," someone calls out. they must be calling another person. let's just continue walking.

"you, woman," they call again. surely it's not you. let's just speed up the pace.

"oi, rude bitch 'm talking to you," they specify and surely enough they aren't calling you a bitch, right?

"you're not talking to me with that attitude," you turn around, raising an eyebrow at the man — or lady, you don't know. their face is covered and their clothes are baggy.

the stranger walks you to, and you walk backwards. okay, it's kinda getting creepy.

"any — any reason why you're coming to me?" you questioned, trying to mask your obvious worries.

"aren't you the one who's here for the poison, missy?" they stop walking, reaching into their pockets before bringing a small, white tube in view.

oops, you're caught off guard. if this is who you agreed to meet with you only hope they don't run with the poison.

"oh — yes, that's me! how'd you know?"

"have my ways. ain't a dealer if i don't know my clients — even if they're a one timer," they speak, handing you the tube. "name's siren. just an alias, don't question it."

you carefully take the tube, in return you quickly place the envelope in their hand. ready to get out of there, you ramble out your words, "okay, thank you! the money is in there, bye! see you never!"

siren watches your frame scatter away from them, the sounds of your low heels clicking the floor making them chuckle. crazy woman, they think, returning their focus back on the money.

you're back in the car safe and sound. you know what, it's time to go back. you lock your doors, hide the tube in your handbag, and turn up the radio. now that the errand's over, you probably won't go outside for two days.

ah, home. nothing beats being home. except suguru's car is parked so that means he's here. the home is now back to the house. inhaling a deep breath, you mentally prepare yourself to have any interaction with him. you have your doubts but something inside you screams that he's going to talk.

"where have you been?"

well, that was quick. you only managed to take your heels off. talk about an impatient man.

"out for a breather, why?" you return the question, walking into the living room without glancing at him.

"all right," he says, not continuing the conversation.

ladies and gentlemen, never get married. suguru no longer cares to hold conversations. you can tell the ugliest lies to him and he wouldn't care. as long as you're back, it's okay. you're used to it, yet a silent voice in you wished that he would've asked more questions.

you continue on without glancing at him, making your way to the shared bedroom. it's a little after noon, you'll take this time to relax.

──

two: weird individual(s).

it's hot — you feel hot. a burning sensation engulfs your head. this wasn't supposed to happen. you were making dinner, casually sipping on your glass of wine as you go along. suguru, for some reason, finally showed himself for the day. without a word, he seated himself near the counter, pouring himself a glass of wine and keeping his eyes on you.

to say you're not uncomfortable would be a severe understatement. his eyes create holes in your back — it's annoying. say something if you want to, asshole, you complained in your mind but truly, you yourself weren't going to say anything.

and so, you carried on. dinner being cooked and suguru being weird. it got even more weird when he stood up. you're at the sink, cleaning as you go along. suguru's finished with his glass, so it's not out of the ordinary for him to stand behind you, trapping you with both arms as he washes his glass, right? yeah, it's pretty weird.

"uh, do you mind?" you softly spoke, which was also weird. why is everything just weird tonight?

suguru stays in that position, humming to a tune you're not familiar with.

"is it wrong to be near my wife?"

oh, now i'm his wife.

"not at all, suguru. it's just that i'm busy at the moment," you told half the truth. you are busy, but you don't want him near you.

"is that so?" he spoke, removing one hand only to place it on your hip. slowly, he begins to squeeze the flesh, lowering his head into the junction of your neck and shoulder. his voice, though muffled, can be heard with a low, seductive tone, "missed you all day, why not busy yourself with me?"

bullshit, but it's not bad. you can do with some physical destressing.

"not in the kitchen."

"sure."

and that's how you found yourself tangled on top of him on the sofa. sloppily making out with him, hands found freedom in his hair, and his hands found home on your hips. it's a hot mess, and you're kind of liking it. suguru may be a bitch, but he sure knows your body. it's been five years, after all.

"wait—" you broke the kiss, placing your hands on his chest. "let's st—stop," you spoke, stuttering as suguru leans his head to bite your neck.

"why?" he asks, curious at your sudden choice. you never stopped him before.

"i.. don't feel good, sorry suguru," you lied again. suguru isn't and is the problem. you'd love to go deeper with him but the realization that he's touched another woman like this disgusts you. it's no wonder you plan on killing him.

suguru doesn't speak. instead, he moves you off of him. "it's okay," he says, leaning in to give you a kiss on the cheek. it doesn't take long for him to leave you alone again. now you're feeling a pinch of guilt. i'm not wrong, right? he's the one who abandoned me.

you sigh, lifting yourself off the sofa. there's a dinner to indulge in and trust, you will enjoy it. you made it with your blood, sweat, tears, and some wine.

──

three: poison attempt day.

surprisingly, you felt energized today. as if someone charged six-hundred volts of energy to a dead battery. today's the day, hopefully. the man who cosplays himself as a husband is absent per usual. it's up to you to cook lunch.

you're already preparing; there's no time to waste. every minute needs your utmost attention — the kind of attention a predator gives its prey before hunting them. the one downside to this would be the poison's taste. it's not an overwhelming one, but it's there. anything with a strong scent comes with a strong taste, they say. you haven't put it to the test — no way, you're not suicidal — but the safer side's always better.

ginger, you think, ginger and onions overpower everything. bingo. a minute¹ change to the recipe's ingredients but it's nothing to fret over. trivial matters again. within an hour, lunch was finished with a cherry on top — except the cherry holds the uneven balance between suguru's life and death.

you removed your apron, flicked off the water from your hands after you washed it, and then threw yourself face-first onto the longer sofa. exhaustion massages your body, encouraging you to fall into its depths. its opponent, emotional drain, creeps up. your body's the platform, and they're the contestants. a battle of who will dominate you begins; a useless battle for the woman whose tears dried up long ago.

a heavy sigh escapes, i'm tired, you think. sliding your hands under your head, you use it to cushion the side of your face. it's quiet like always but you're left to your thoughts this time. it may just crown itself for being the first time you gave yourself leeway to part and understand your tangled emotions. it's like a ball of tangled wires: scattered yet neat. roads to untangle it are visible, yet its many wires frighten the person.

what you feel is nothing short of some doll who replaces her face to satisfy the owner. the marionette you once were and refuse to be again. she who shows you, you who show yourself, who is the real you? perhaps, it's all. everything is you, everything has become you. many versions of yourself dance around the stage, all moving towards to same goal: killing the one who drained them.

the clock ticks, each sounded second rips your skin apart. it's torturous, but soon it'll all be over. i think i need a nap, your last voice echoes away in your mind as you succumb to exhaustion. who knew planning a murder against your once beloved could've been this draining.

─

suguru lazily enters, slackening his tie. his eyes focus on the lunch decorating the dining table. soon, his eyes travel to your resting figure. after all, you're in his usual position. she's sleeping, he thinks of the obvious, deciding to keep a low profile as to not wake you.

however, being a man means that you're prone to making mistakes... especially loud ones. from the cup connecting with the floor to the fork clanging as it fell, it's been a rather loud attempt at serving himself some lunch.

he's sure that you're awake. well, not entirely awake, but conscious enough to hear everything around you. the blame is his to own, again.

"it's untouched..." suguru whispers, confused at the perfectly untouched food that lies before his eyes. maybe you got a change of eating routine.

lies, of course. you'd be nothing but a joker if you were to consume the same food you poisoned. suguru doesn't know this, however. he's picked his path and the path hides its true face; wicked and heartless, like a haunted house pretending to be a normal house to lure in its victims.

it's been a few minutes later and you're now fully awake. you haven't moved an inch to expose yourself — just mindlessly gazing into the void of your shared house. you're aware that he's home, aware that he's found himself lunch, and aware that the clock's ticking sound has gotten louder. almost as if it knows its counting down someone's death day.

"is he eating?" you whispered, peeking from the sofa's backrest. "oh, he is."

suguru's at the dining table, scrolling on his phone as he shoves a vegetable in his mouth. his actions fill you with guilt, excitement, and fear. for a reason only god knows, you don't want him eating anymore. may it be due to loving him half of your life, or may it be due to the guilt of killing someone who mattered to others. whatever, who cares. no one — no one will, you chant in your mind, attempting to convince yourself.

"wait, suguru—" you acted out of your own will, cutting your speech short when you regained yourself. what the fuck? you're leaning over the sofa's backrest, reaching an arm out to suguru. eyes wide open, you try to piece together a reasonable follow-up response.

"hm? something wrong?" suguru asks, mouth filled with food. he places his phone face down and tilts his head. he looks innocent, as if he's not a cheating, neglecting bastard of a husband. well, that's the way life goes. the evil masks themselves as the innocent, basking in those who are more innocent than themselves, slowly consuming their energy for their own. selfish, selfish people.

"ah," you begin, awkwardly lowering your hand. "is the food okay? i tried a new recipe."

i don't want to kill him.

"yeah, it's good," he responds, taking a sip of whatever he's drinking.

he's wronged me.

you walk towards the dining table, pulling out a chair to seat yourself in front of him. "i see... how was your morning?" you questioned, swallowing hard. your legs are shaking, you don't know why. your heart races, you can't answer why.

"boring, same old stuff. i met with my client though, she's fun to be around," suguru tells, poking the food with his fork to get a good bite.

i fucking hate him.

you don't speak after that. instead, you bite at the skin of your lower lip. your emotions try to join together, yet they won't. it's like a lava lamp, they'll never truly connect. every time you're away from suguru, your hatred tames. every time he's back, it heightens. it doesn't take much more than his voice to fuel your restless anger. you observe him, watching the way his throat bobs each swallow. something feels off.

the two of you continue in silence, simply observing each other. suguru takes it upon himself to do the dishes, you remain put in the chair. his phone remained with you, face down yet dings with notifications. you've always wondered what it's like to have him text you every day. once it was a memory of the teenage years... now it's a sour dream.

──

four: night, night.

it's the same night, you're in bed with suguru. both of you are under the same covers, yet you're both at the extreme ends of the bed. a large, empty space separates you two. neither are asleep nor do they wish to be awake. a heavy feeling rains over their shared room. the tension's strong enough to break the strongest thread.

suguru's the first to turn, rolling himself over to you. he extends an arm to secure over your waist; this brings you skin-to-skin with his torso and your back. his head lowers to yours, resting his chin on your head. you give no reaction except stiffing your body. what's he up to?

his extended arm caresses you lightly, mimicking patterns on your delicate skin. he takes a deep breath before exhaling.

"my love, i know you're planning to kill me," he softly speaks, waiting for you to respond.

your heart drops. what? he knows? it's probably a bluff. you opt for remaining the way you currently are. if you continue pretending, he'll most likely continue speaking the truth.

"i've been watching you. i don't blame you, dear. i've neglected you for quite some time. i've cheated on you with someone temporary. if i were you, i would've killed me sooner. however, i won't lie and say i'm not hurt. if my wife were to kill me, i'd prefer it to be in an easy, quick way. you've chosen your part and i can't change that, but promise me: on my deathbed, you'll be there. it's not a request to mock you, but a request of seeing you one last time," suguru empties himself out, pouring onto you a bucket of words that hold the truth. the ugly truth you've avoided.

literally fuck off. it means nothing now, you think, judging suguru's words.

"i've been horrible and nothing can change that. i will not beg for forgiveness, nor will i beg for your love. it's already been done. but please, my dear... let me say sorry," his voice quiets to the end and the caressing stops. his hand remains firm, waiting for you to come out of your fake shell. "i know you're not asleep. answer me, please."

caught red-handed.

"i don't care for your fucking apology. it's a bit too late," you spit your venom out, thanking the gods that your back is what's facing him. "matter of fact, i hope you die soon. do as you wish, though. your time is limited."

suguru doesn't answer yet. his arm around you tightens. his breathing's getting uneven — you can hear it. it's shaking, the same way your eyes are shaking to prevent any tears — or as you call it, the pity tears.

he takes in a deep breathe, verbally exhaling a shaky one in return, "then, i'll apologize. i'm sorry."

that's it, huh, you think, almost voicing out your thoughts.

"it means nothing to apologize for actions i could've prevented a long time ago. so, i'm sorry. sorry that i've wronged you to the point you plot my death," he finishes, not having any more to say.

you wriggle out of his grasp, turning to face him. it's dark yet you can see his sadness. isn't that just too bad? the bar of the love you still feel for suguru exists, yet its overpowered by the hatred you've accumulated for him. it stings that he's going like this, but you rather it be by your own arms instead of another's.

"i don't have anything to say," you quietly speak, looking at suguru in the eyes. "if it doesn't work, then i hope you recover in the worst way. if it works and you die, i'll kiss you a merciful death."

the conversation ends. what's left are two adults staring into each other's eyes. there's nothing but empty voids facing each other. voids they once filled, voids they once created. it's too late; too late for anything. suguru's a petty liar if he says he's not afraid. who isn't afraid of death? he doesn't want to die, but what's done cannot be undone. he cannot turn the clock anti-clockwise and fix his actions. you won't be switching lanes, and it's set what the outcome will be.

minute¹ — pronounced my·new·tuh. meaning: extremely small. two synonyms: tiny, little.

#+ rizsu: jujutsu kaisen. #so this was definitely a thought #3.8k wc | tw. attempts of murder #geto suguru x reader #geto x reader #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #geto angst #geto suguru angst #jjk angst #geto suguru x you #geto x you #jjk x fem!reader #jujutsu kaisen angst

[hispg]

My love mine All mine

Pairings: DI! Leon X Fem! Reader

Summary: Your husband returned from his mission, the house was quiet until he heard your daughter's commotion.

Wc: 2.4k

Warnings: comfort, domestic things, established relationship, mention of pregnancy, mild angst, Leon mentioning some of his traumas, bit of fluffy.

Leon was tired, months away traveling back and forth, doing missions that seemed endless. That last mission was hell, coming back from Alcatraz was like a light at the end of the tunnel.

And he couldn't stop dreaming about this damn vacation that he needed so badly, he didn't have the same stamina to keep going back and forth.

He was completely exhausted, he didn't even know how he'd got home. The fatigue in his body simply alerted him that all he needed was a hot bath and a soft bed.

But nothing mattered more to him than getting home, seeing his beloved family. You, his wife, together with your little daughter. His little family, one of the only reasons he woke up every day.

And once he opened the door to your shared house, and smelled that sweet scent he missed so much, something in him woke up.

Of course all the tiredness was still there, but he was at peace, he was finally home.

With his family. With his two girls.

He silently entered the house, placing his heavy bag on the floor, making a small noise. The silence was comforting, but at the same time he was missing something.

Then he took off his boots and put them in the corner. He didn't realize how much he missed home until he saw the picture frames scattered around the living room.

The photos of when the two of you met on a trip to Paris, he was there on business, and didn't expect to meet the love of his life right there.

Or even the photo of when he proposed to you, your bright smile as you looked at the ring on your fingers, or the way Leon looked at you with such tenderness.

In the next photo it was you dressed all in white, him dressed in a suit that was strangely out of his usual, he felt like a clown every time he wore a suit, even though he looked beautiful in it. In the photo, your hands were occupied with a bouquet, while he held you in his arms like a princess.

There was the photo of when you were pregnant, the first picture of your daughter, so many picture frames all over the living room. Leon loved every one of them and would remember them for the rest of his life.

Just as he couldn't help but notice the Polaroids you put up on the wall, with recent photos of your little family, even though Leon wasn't a very smiley man, he always smiled in the photos he took with you and your daughter.

Because he was always happy in the presence of his own small family.

He felt his heart fill with joy as soon as he saw a baby playpen in the living room, the hello kitty teddies resting inside the pink playpen, along with dolls and small toy cars.

The environment made him feel so real, so normal. Being at home made him forget who he really was, made him forget his messy life. Because this was the place where he belonged, the place he would never leave, never forget. His precious little place, where he was happier than he could have dreamed.

His family, his wife, his daughter. Phrases he spoke with pride, without having to think twice.

The silence in the house was almost soothing, nothing but his breathing in there. But soon the calm was interrupted by a familiar whimper, coming from your daughter's room.

He hurried a little, looking through the crack in the door to see you rocking the little one gently back and forth.

You had told him that the little one had recently caught a cold because of the low temperatures. You had even said that she had high irritability and the usual flu symptoms, as well as a slightly higher body temperature, but nothing more.

But he couldn't have imagined finding you crying with her, the dark circles in your eyes showing him that you hadn't slept much recently.

You looked so much like him, both of you tired, the expression of someone who hadn't had a minute's rest in the last few days.

You were so focused on putting the little girl to sleep that you didn't even notice that Leon had arrived, you didn't even hear when he opened the door to enter the house.

Your senses only returned when the little girl stopped crying for a brief moment, a faint smile forming on her lips as she looked up at her father, stretching out her arms for him to pick her up.

"Shh, Daddy's here..." He whispers, rocking the little one gently, looking at you as he does so.

"I'm sorry." The first thing you manage to sob out, he didn't know who was crying more, the little one or you.

He nodded, giving you a soft kiss on the forehead, "No, love, it's okay."

"I don't know what to do... She doesn't stop crying. She can't sleep for more than five minutes..." You say, gently stroking the little girl's hair, trying to calm her down somehow.

Leon sighed, giving your daughter a kiss on the forehead, looking at her with gentle eyes, as if her constant crying was tugging at his heartstrings.

There wasn't much he could do. Just try to make the little one comfortable in this difficult phase.

He knew you were upset at not being able to welcome him in a better way, with a nice dinner as usual. But he would never judge you for taking care of your family, he knew how difficult the last few days had been for you.

His eyes fell on the coffee cup on the bookshelf, the children's books spread out on the floor. You should have read all the stories to her by now, hoping that the girl would go to sleep or calm down.

Which apparently didn't work.

"Go and rest, love. I'll take care of her." Leon tells you with a half-smile, singing a soft lullaby.

You frown, looking at him calmly. You were both tired, but for now he wanted to take responsibility for your daughter.

The baby girl was still whimpering on Leon's chest, her little hands clutching Leon's shirt, holding on so tightly that it felt like she would pull it off him.

As he hummed a little lullaby, the child put her arms around Leon's neck, hiding her red, swollen face from crying in his arms.

Seeing you also crying from exhaustion at not being able to do anything, he kissed your forehead, giving you a small smile.

"Rest, sweetpea." He didn't care how tired he was, he'd spent days in worse situations. A few more hours awake wouldn't make any difference.

You reluctantly went to your shared room, mentally promising yourself that you would only sleep for a few hours. You were just as tired as he was.

As soon as Leon heard the door close, he looked at the little girl with a smile, kissing her forehead gently.

"Shhh... I know it hurts, but Daddy's here." He said, and she looked at him with a pout for a moment, stopping crying briefly.

Leon's heart calmed down for a while, seeing that she had stopped crying a little. Only for her to start whimpering once more, burying her face in his chest.

"Shhh shhh..." He soothed, carrying her into the bathroom of her room.

Perhaps a fresh shower along with clean clothes would calm her down a bit, or at least bring her a little comfort.

He turned on the hot water to fill the tub a little, while he sat the baby on the edge of the tub and began to gently remove her clothes. It hurt his heart to hear her sobs, seeing how hoarse her little voice was getting with how much she had already cried.

You had told him that because of the flu, the little one had acquired a small irritation in her throat, causing you to go to the doctors and start treatment with some medication. And he knew that the fact that she was crying so much didn't help the irritation one bit.

But as if by some quirk of fate, when Leon put her in the water, she relaxed a little. She closed her eyes and leaned against his chest.

Her golden strands were so reminiscent of Leon's that every time he looked at his little girl, he saw himself.

A being full of innocence and purity, an angel in his eyes. It's a pity that unlike her, he wasn't lucky enough to have a good life, or a less turbulent one.

His innocence was taken away early on, giving way to a terrible bitterness that he only cultivated over the years.

But it would be different with her, he swore he would protect her with his life. She was his daughter, the treasure of his life, along with you.

Sometimes he finds himself wondering what things would have been like if he hadn't met you? If he hadn't taken a turn. If you hadn't shown him that he was still worthy of being loved.

That he wasn't bad. You showed him the light, and it was still hard to believe that the honor of having a family with you was his.

All this happiness was his, all his.

He was snapped out of his thoughts when he heard the tiny girl yawn, which for him was a sign that his plan had worked. He gently wrapped her in a towel and carried her in his arms, taking her to the changing table and putting on a new diaper.

Soon he spotted a pair of pink onesies, which looked comfortable enough for her to sleep in, so he started to put them on her.

Gently placing his hand on her chest to calm her down, a habit he always did with her, just putting a little pressure so she wouldn't move, and she would always stay quiet. Sometimes with a smile on her face.

When he had finished, he took her to bed and put her under the covers, making her warm and comfortable. He even put her various plush toys around her.

She was already feeling sleepy, her little blue eyes were threatening to close slowly, she wasn't crying anymore, just hiccupping every now and then. Her fever was better too, at least Leon didn't feel her body getting so hot.

Leon picked up a children's storybook, Sleeping Beauty, her favorite. When he lay down next to her, he began to read the story quietly.

"Once upon a time..." He began, until he was interrupted by her protesting in a low voice.

"Use your princess voice, Daddy." She says, a pout forming on her small lips.

Leon had to bite his lip to keep from smiling, trying to take the proposal as seriously as possible.

"Right, right. Let's start again.'" He murmurs, giving her a kiss on the forehead before starting again.

This time he's done it right, starting in a soft voice, trying to imitate a princess voice somehow. And he couldn't have been prouder when he got a small laugh out of her, almost imperceptible, but it was there.

From the yawns she was giving, it wouldn't be long before she fell asleep. And neither would Leon, he didn't know how he was still awake. He already knew that he would soon fall asleep with her.

So he kept reading until she eventually fell asleep, and he did the same, sleeping surrounded by her soft toys, feeling her little legs on his torso as she slept.

Both sleeping peacefully after a restless night.

......

Hours later, you wake up from your peaceful slumber, feeling a little better that you've at least had some rest. And from the silence in the house, you could tell that Leon had managed to put your daughter to sleep.

The sun was already rising, its warm rays beginning to illuminate the house, along with the birdsong that filled your ears. You thought about getting up to make breakfast, after all Leon must have been starving.

So you got up and decided to check on them before going into the kitchen, and you headed for your daughter's room. As soon as you open the door, you see one of the cutest images you could imagine.

Leon was lying in bed, pretending to still be asleep while your daughter was putting make-up on him. You had to stop yourself from laughing at the absurd amount of blush on his cheeks.

She had even put a little princess crown on his head, she was really dolling Leon up.

You could see from the smile he was tugging at the corner of his lips that he was enjoying this immensely. He was the type who would do anything for his little girl.

And you couldn't contain the laugh that escaped your lips when the little girl took a section of his hair and tied it into a pigtail, one on each side of his head.

When he heard your laughter, he opened his eyes, smiled softly and mouthed a silent 'good morning' to you.

You did the same, entering the room and approaching the two of them.

"I bet you'd make a great Sleeping Beauty." You tease, looking at your husband with amusement.

And he looks back at you, a smile forming and his mouth opening to let out a cheesy joke. But your daughter's cute, croaky voice echoes through the room:

" No, 'cause Daddy snores a lot." She says, the little gummy smile that made you crack up, showing her little teeth.

The next thing that was heard in the room was your laughter, along with your daughter's sweet giggles.

Leon snorted, crossing his arm and looking at the two of you. He even tried to make an angry face, but the moment he saw his two girls smiling at nothing, he couldn't help himself and let out a smile too.

He propped himself up on his elbows, pulling the little girl towards him and starting to tickle her.

"That's no way to talk to Daddy, young lady." He says, trying to keep his tone serious, but your daughter's giggle is simply infectious.

"Daddy!" she squeals, bouncing her little legs with laughter.

You were grateful for the family you had formed. Grateful for the kind of lazy mornings that were so enjoyable. Maybe breakfast can wait a bit, can't it?

The calm, happy atmosphere there. It was something that Leon had cherished and acclaimed so many times. A haven where he could forget his own demons.

A place where he could relax and forget about the world outside, a place where he could be himself. The person, not the agent.

And he was grateful for his two girls.

For his life, because nothing would make sense without you.

#leon kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x y/n #leon kennedy x you #leon s kennedy #leon x reader #leon x y/n #leon x you #leon resident evil #re leon #di leon #resident evil leon #death island leon #leon scott kennedy x you #leon scott kennedy x reader #dad! Leon

[gglitch1dd]

About the Cheating Dilf Izuku, I'm curious to know what would have happen if Izuku arrived again a minute too late?

Seeing reader die in the hands of Jigsaw since every story and anime i see.

The lovable and caring husband turns into like mean and abused after their wife dies like in Demon Slayer, Rengoku Shinjuro?

So yeah! Curious to know what would Izuku do once reader is gone and what will happen to the sprouts and how they would cope up with the fact their lovable mother is gone?

Also! Loved the mini series!🫶🫶 Hell it made me cry! I should be studying for the exam but damnnnn need some angst 😭😭

You mentioned a Rengoku and I perked up, @freshherowinnercloud. I LOVE Kyuojiro. I'd want all his babies. Either way, back to my main man.

Well... I think Reader and Izuku are very close in a sense that Izuku could very well not see a point in living anymore because of the fact that Reader isn't there. She gave him everything in his life, his home, his children, the things that push him to continue. But she's gone... that would be a very difficult situation for everyone.

Warning: Heavy depression, Reader's death, oldest sybling syndrome, grief

Toshinori entered his parents father's room. The curtains were drawn just like always, the room dark and stuffy. Toshinori entered the room, the room silent. Lying in bed was his father. Toshinori glanced at the lunch he had brought him. Not even a bite out of the sandwich that he had made.

Toshinori glanced down at the dinner he brought with him. He sighed as he walked forward, to where Izuku's side of the bed was. He replaced the lunch that was there with dinner that he knew he wouldn't touch.

The fourteen year old boy wasn't even sure if his father had even left his room since after the funeral.

The day you had passed was a dark day in the Midoriya household. It was the day that the very sun that kept the garden that was the Midoriya family, stopped shining.

Toshinori still couldn't get the sound of his father's scream in pure agony in the hospital out of his head. The sound of a man who had lost his wife and very meaning of existence.

You were murdered by Jigsaw, the villain who was rotting in prison right now, but was still breathing. You had gone to pick up Shoyo from preschool when the villain had attacked. You sacrificed yourself to save all those kids including your son.

And yet, Toshinori couldn't have helped but be so mad at you for it. Why did you have to do that? Why did you have to go on and get yourself killed?

You weren't a hero.

You were his mom.

And yet the moment you died, Toshinori didn't cry. He didn't cry once, not in public that is. Even at the funeral, when his grandma had put the boys all in black suits and stood next to her son at your funeral. Toshinori and his father were the only ones that didn't cry at the funeral. However, Toshinori was sure his father didn't cry for the same reason he did.

Izuku simply had no tears left on that morning to shed, and one could see it straight how much he was but a cusp of the man he once was. Standing there motionless, silent, rigid. Inko and Toshinori received all the condolences, people just having to take one glance at the Number One hero to see that he was in no state to even be there.

Since then, Toshinori tried to keep his brothers together. With the help of his grandma and his godpaerents, Aunty Mina and Uncle Hanta. Although he never asked for help, it was nice that they pitched in. Buying groceries, taking the boys to school, making lunch for them. All things Toshinori first denied them needing, but accepted anyways.

It was hard on all of the boys, not having you here. The house was quieter and empty. It was cold and lacked the warmth you brought.

Asahi buried himself in studying. He barely did anything else, other than start fights as well. Toshinori had to go to guardian meetings for parents because of the fact that his father just wasn't able to. Toshinori couldn't even talk to his eleven year old brother because it was like talking to a whole different boy.

Hero had stopped smiling entirely. Toshinori hadn't heard a joke or laugh from him since the day you died. According to letters his teacher was sending, the seven year old wasn't doing well in school and he wasn't participating. A lot of his teachers were accomodating and were trying to help him pass but if he continued like this, he would fail the year. All Hero did was play sports, but at least he had that.

Shoyo still tried smiling. The five year old, given to his name, tried to be as happy but clearly couldn't quite understand that you were never coming back. He would wait by the door sometimes, Toshinori having to carry him to bed because he thought you'd come walking through.

Koda however, he was just three. He probably wouldn't even be able to remember your face in a year's time.

And through all this, Toshinori barely just passed his UA entrance exam, only getting in through recommendation and nothing more considering he was too busy keeping track of all his brothers and keeping his disconnected father alive, to study for the written exam.

Toshinori wondered how on earth you did it. How you kept track of five boys all at once. How you managed to keep this family together through everything.

Because Toshinori was at his wits end and he realised something painful...

He'd never be you.

Toshinori stopped himself from leaving the master bedroom. He dropped his head. "You know... you're really selfish." He said outloud. "You are really really selfish."

He was met with silence was more. He turned to look at his father who's back was turned away from him, looking to your side of the bed where it was empty and it didn't smell like you anymore.

Toshinori tried to fight the rising bile of disgust and anger that was in his throat. "You just lay there and do nothing while I'm doing my best to keep us together!" Toshinori shouted as he motioned to his father. "Ever since mom-" Toshinori's throat closed up, being unable to see say it. He scowled disappointed in himself, tears flowing to his eyes. "You haven't been here. I need you to be here! We need you! Your sons need you! We don't have anybody else!" He shouted.

He was once again met with silence, dead stagnant silence.

Toshinori squeezed his eyes shut, letting the fat Midoriya tears flow from his eyes. "I lost my mom..." He let out weakly. "Your wife... I know how it feels but please... Dad please..." His voice cracked as he stared at his father's form. "I can't do this by myself. It's suffocating me. Please..."

His father didn't respond. He didn't move. He didn't speak.

Just nothing.

The fourteen year old lost all emotion to his face. He let out a scoff as he wiped his face with his sleeve. "What did I expect from you?" He let out lowly as he walked out of the room, slamming the door behind him.

Toshinori went straight to his room, placing the plate on his desk and closing his door. He walked straight to bed, too tired to even look at whatever homework he had to do or whatever studying he should probably touch up on. He fell back, staring up at the ceiling.

Suddenly his phone screen lit up.

Weakly he grabbed it off his bed side and looked at the screen.

(1) Memories from this day a few years ago.

Toshinori knew that sometimes the cloud storage recommended photos and videos from years back, but this was an odd one.

He tapped the notification. It was a video. Toshinori sighed, debating whether or whether not to watch it. Not seeing anything better to do, he tapped it.

The video started dark first but then light appeared. The camera work was shaky but then a laugh was heard. The camera panned to a young Toshinori, just a year old, who was sitting in a high chair with his chubby face covered in icing and cake crumbs. "Toshinori!"

The sound of his mother's voice made him still. Tears burned at his eyes just hearing your voice and your laughter.

The little baby looked up at the camera before laughing. The sound of his father's own laughter sounded closer than yours. You stepped into the frame with a cloth in hand. "You've got cake all over your face, baby." You said amusedly as you tried to clean him and his chubby grabby hands. "He's just happy about his birthday cake." Izuku said as he held the camera. "You only turn one once." You chuckled as you finally had your son clean, his big eyes blinking as you picked him up out of his chair. "That's true..." Finally your face was in view. Beautiful and lovely as you looked at Toshinori with so much love and devotion. "Oh my big boy. Look at how big you are already? My little hero." You laughed brining your nose to his. Toshinori giggled in the video, putting his now clean hands on your face. You smiled dearly, putting a kiss to his face. "Happy birthday, Toshinori!" Then the camera flipped and his father was there too. Izuku laughed as he pulled you and Toshinori into a hug, the three of you together. He had a bright smile on his freckled face. "Happy birthday, Toshinori." "Izuku did you take a picture?" His father moved his face close to the screen. "Oh this is a video." "Izuku!"

At the tone that you said his father's name Toshinori couldn't help but laugh. You always said his name like that when he says or does something wrong. The video ended with that. And that's when Toshinori remembered that you always used to send this video to his phone on his birthday.

Which only meant one thing.

Toshinori scrolled up to see birthday wishes and messages that were unopened on his phone.

It was 11pm...

and today was his birthday.

Izuku wasn't sure what it was about what Toshinori had said but the moment the boy left. He felt some semblance of control over himself. He had been stuck in a constant state of nothingness, feeling nothing, experiencing nothing, thinking about nothing, other than the fact that you weren't here anymore.

But now... now he felt like you'd be so disappointed in him.

Izuku buried his face in his pillow.

His boys. His wonderful boys that you gave him and look at what he was doing to them.

He couldn't for the life of him, feel like a responsible adult. In his mid fourties, having lost nearly a third of the weight he was before you had died and here he was rotting away like a sad worm.

Izuku reached over to grab his phone that was probably dead, to his surprise wasn't and he tapped the first person he thought of calling.

"... Izuku?! Is... Is that you?"

At the sound of his mother's voice, Izuku felt like putting down. He wasn't worthy to talk to her when she was spending everyday here, taking care of his own children while he felt like a failure.

"Izuku! Izuku if its you... please say something..."

"... Okaasan..." His voice was hoarse from lack of use and honestly he couldn't rememeber him ever sounding like that.

But his mother knew her son when she heard him and she let out a relieved sigh. "Oh thank God. I'm sorry I'm not there. I had to come home and get my laundry washed and buy a few things for the boys. Are you okay? Are you hurt?"

Izuku didn't answer immediately but he let out a shaky breath. "I... I need help."

-Glitch1d

moral of the story, Izuku gets help and he tries to come back into the boys' lives. He disconnects for the most part. But it's understandable, but still painful

#mha x y/n #izuku midoriya x reader #izuku x reader #midoriya angst #izuku midoriya angst #deku angst #bnha #deku x reader #midoriya x reader #dilf midoriya #dilf izuku midoriya #dilf izuku x reader

[leedosbunnyboy]

Kyojuro Rengoku; The Fire Kindling in My Heart

Genre: Fluff, Implied Smut

Pairing: Kyojuro Rengoku x Male Reader

Warning(s): Very narrative-driven, Slight feminization (Reader is referred to as a wife), Kyojuro and Reader bathe together, Implied bath s3x

Summary: Living with the love of your life can do a number on you, especially when you live every day wondering if he’ll even come back alive

Part II

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Ten years…

Ten years since you’ve first started living with the flame hashira’s family.

Kyojuro Rengoku, the flame hashira, was your best friend since you were kids. So whenever your parents were killed by a demon, it was only natural he’d invite you to live with his family.

You were eternally grateful for his kindness and did everything anything necessary to attempt to repay his kindness; however, Kyojuro never once asked anything of you, simply saying you being alive and within his presence was more than enough. Even now, Kyojuro was twenty and you were nineteen, he was still as caring as ever. Always bringing you gifts from his many missions.

•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•

You knew you liked the slayer. Hell, you’ve known since you were twelve. That was when Kyojuro held you as you cried on the second anniversary of your parents’ death. You wailed, you screamed, you looked a mess, all covered in snot and struggling to breathe, but Kyojuro never once judged you. He simply continued to hold you and you let you cry into his shoulder, whispering sweet words into your ear when you calmed enough to no longer be shaking. That’s when you knew, your heart belonged to him.

*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•

You weren’t any good with swords, hence why you never chose to pursue the path of a demon slayer. Kyojuro tried his best to teach you, but you simply couldn’t figure it out. Instead, you decided to learn medicine. If you couldn’t help Kyojuro on the battlefield, you could at least help him in the aftermath. While Kyojuro spent his days training to pass Final Selection, you would learn how to blend herbs and roots from the kind old doctor up the mountain. Returning home at night to prepare dinner for Kyojuro and his younger brother, Senjuro, as well as to clean out any scrapes the older might have received during his training. You would run a bath for the swordsman and massage his tense shoulders until he began to doze off. Afterwards, you would tuck in Senjuro for the night, making sure to read him his favorite stories. The younger always asking if he could grow up to be as brave as the heroes in his stories, and you always reassuring him that he would be even braver. You would then head to Kyojuro’s room and fall asleep in the slayer’s arms.

A warm feeling would arise in your chest every night. You loved this routine.

•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*

When Kyojuro was promoted to a hashira, you couldn’t really bring yourself to be happy. First off, his missions almost always had him away from home, so now that he was an even higher rank, you knew there was almost no way he’d be home for a while. And second of all, he’s almost died multiple times, and now that he was a hashira, you knew you would have to get used to it. Every time you had to wipe his blood off his skin, every time you had to stitch a gaping cut, it pained you. You constantly worried for him, and now to know the man you cared for so deeply could die any day now, did nothing to ease your constant fear. But he assured you, “I’m very strong (M/n)! It is my duty to protect the weak. Of what use would my years of training be if i never used it to protect the weak?” God, he reminded you so much of his mother.

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By some miracle, Kyojuro had some time off. A week off specifically. A week of not having to worry about if he’d be killed on the battlefield, a week of not having to hold your breath each time a crow came to your residence out of fear of hearing of his death, just a week of relaxing with Kyojuro by your side.

However, fate had other ideas.

In the middle of his break, he was called via crow to report to his master’s residence. Lord Ubayashiki if you recall correctly. You’ve never met the man but you’ve heard great things.

•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*

“Must you really go? I’m sure you can simply tell him all he needs to know in a letter.” You now stood at the entrance to the Rengoku estate. Barely catching up to the flame hashira on his way out:

“I wish it was that easy (M/n), but if the master requires my presence it must be important.” He held your hands, his fingers brushing over your knuckles in an attempt to calm your growing worry. “Hey, I fortunately still have 3 more days of my break, remember? When I return, I promise I won’t leave your side until my rest is over.” He flashed you that god-forsaken smile of his. The smile that calmed you down and had your heart beating faster than the speed of a shinobi.

“When you return, please hold me?” You looked up at the man, silently swearing him to hold up his end of the promise with just your eyes.

“I swear on my honor, (M/n).” And with that, he was on his way.

You watched until you could no longer see his bright hair over the tree line, before returning back to sit at the engawa, distracting yourself by counting the stars.

“You really love my brother, don’t you?” Asked a small voice.

“Is it really that obvious?” You chuckled, brushing a loose strand of hair out of your face.

“Of course it is. Your face lights up every time you’re with him.” Senjuro comments as he moves to sit next to you.

“Then why doesn’t he say anything?” You asked, tears beginning to well in your eyes. “I doubt he’ll ever feel the same. He needs a strong hashira woman to marry, not a lowly pharmacist like me who can’t even wield a sword properly.” You wiped some stray tears away with the sleeve of your kimono. It was blue and had coi fish and lily pads as the design. Kyojuro bought it for you. He said you’d look pretty in it.

“You shouldn’t be so harsh on yourself (M/n),” Senjuro rested his hand on your shoulder, “I know my brother cares deeply for you. Why else would he invite you to live with us?”

“Because your brother is an honorable man who pities the weak. It was for no other reason than helping a pitiful boy who couldn’t even help his parents.” You clenched your hands into a fist as to not cry.

“Don’t say such things about yourself.” Senjuro shifted to rub your back. For such a young boy, Senjuro was very was mature for his age. I guess having to raise yourself due to having a drunkard as a father does that to a kid. “You know, Kyojuro told me he joined the slayers corp because of you.”

You turned towards the younger boy, surprise etched into every corner of your face.

“When he saw you that night ten years ago. Alone, all at the hands of a demon, he promised to not allow that to happen to anyone again. He said he made two promises that night; to kill all demons and to never let you be alone again.” Senjuro recounted, his smile brightening upon feeling your back relax.

“He truly cares for you (M/n). When he returns, please consider telling him about your feelings. I promise he won’t hate you, no- he can’t ever hate you.” Senjuro smiled at you.

“I will.” You wipe the remainder of the tears off your face. “Now, let’s get you back to bed, yeah?”

*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•

Kyojuro returned by sunrise. Ubayashiki simply wanted to inform him of his next mission after his break.

He slowly crept into his home, peeping into his father’s room to see him sound asleep. Most likely due to alcohol rather than exhaustion, but at least he isn’t yelling at Senjuro, or god forbid, (M/n).

He then made his way to his room, but not before peeking into Senjuro’s room. His heart swelled at the sight of you resting with Senjuro in your hold, his head resting in the crook of your neck. A half-read story in your hands.

“Poor things. You both must’ve been very tired.” Kyojuro whispered as he moved to wrap you both in a blanket. You reached out a hand to grip his. “Oh, it’s you.” You stated, half-asleep. “I’m sorry (M/n). I didn’t mean to wake you.” He softly smiled. “No, it’s fine. I was about to awake anyways. Let me just lay Senjuro down and I’ll make us some breakfast alright?” You shifted to rest the younger Rengoku on his futon before tucking him in with a blanket. “Sounds good to me.” The flame hashira smiled as you dragged him out of his room and into the kitchen.

“Are you in the mood for anything specific?” You asked as you wrapped an apron around your waist. “Some miso soup would be amazing!” He stated. “With sweet potatoes i assume?” You smiled back to him. “You know me so well.” The flame hashira chuckled heartily. “Well of course I would know what my best friend likes.” Not to mention how i’m crazy in love with you you thought.

Just before you could finish the meal, a very annoyed and very hungover Shinjuro came barging into the kitchen. His eyes glanced over to Kyojuro before a look of disgust overtook his face.

“Sir Shinjuro. Would you like some miso soup as well?” You offered. Mostly to break the uncomfortable silence which had overtaken the area.

“Sure, sure, whatever.” Kyojuro’s father had never particularly hated you, in fact, the flame hashira might even go as far as to say his father liked you. Well, he’s never shown it, but he’s also never yelled at you, and according to Kyojuro those are the same things.

You smiled towards the retired hashira before preparing three bowls of soup, as well as an extra for when Senjuro decided to wake up. Normally Shinjuro would have him up at this hour but you decided to let him sleep in just a bit longer. You brought over the bowls and set them in front of the two men before taking your seat beside Kyojuro, apron still wrapped around your waist.

“Is it good?” You asked Kyojuro. “Of course it is! Everything you make is delicious (M/n)!” The flame hashira would say before wolfing down the entire bowl. “Tasty!” You chuckled at his antics. “Shall i get you some more?” He nodded and you arose to pour him some more.

“He has two arms and two legs (M/n). I’m pretty sure he can pour his own soup.” Shinjuro would remark as you stood. “It’s completely fine. I have no issue with it.” You stated once you returned with Kyojuro’s bowl. “He is a hashira. It won’t kill him to get up every once in a while. He doesn’t need you to be waiting on him hand and foot-“ “That’s enough father.” Kyojuro interrupted. “I would never ask something of (M/n) if it were to hinder him. Now please let us eat in peace.” Shinjuro tsked before continuing to eat. “Say, Kyojuro. Why don’t you get that wife of yours to go wake up Senjuro. He has to start training soon.” A blush found its way to both your and Kyojuro’s faces at the comment. “I-I’ll go get Senjuro.” You quickly stood and scurried to the younger’s room. “I can run you a bath if you’d like Kyojuro?” You offered before you fully exited the kitchen. “That would be lovely (M/n), *cough* thank you.” He stated, face still red and clearly flustered.

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“Thank you (M/n). This is wonderful.” Kyojuro said as he sunk into the warm water. “It’s no problem at all Kyojuro.” You smiled at him and began to work on massaging his tense muscles.

“About what my father said, I apologize if it made you uncomfortable.” The flame hashira said as he relaxed into your touch. “It’s completely fine.” You contemplated on whether or not to say what was on your mind. “I actually kind of liked it.” You whispered, but Kyojuro heard you.

“Oh?” He leaned his head back to make eye contact with you. “Would you enjoy being my wife? Would you like to wait here for me on my missions and then when I’d return, I’d hold you and whisper sweet things into your ear?” Kyojuro teased. His smiled widened as he saw your ears begin to turn red. “Well, I already kind of do that.” You said, attempting to distract yourself by working on kneading the older’s tense muscles.

“(M/n)…” Kyojuro called. “Hmm?” You cautiously looked up at him. “Could you please join me?” You swear you could feel your face turn darker than a beet, but you complied nonetheless.

Now you found your back resting against the chest of the flame hashira as he worked on cleaning your hair.

“How long have you wanted to be my wife?” Kyojuro teased. “Since we were kids. I’ve always admired you Kyojuro. Your resolve, your determination, your kindness, your pure heart, all of it made me fall deeper and deeper in love with you.” You finally admitted what you’d been holding with you for the past seven years. “What if I told you I felt the same?” Kyojuro asked. His hand falling from your hair to hold your hands. “Are you sure it’s not just because we’re both naked and pressed against each other?” You joked. “Well not that I don’t enjoy this, but it’s not at all the reason.” He pulled you closer to him. “All I do is for you. Joining the demon slayer corp, training hard to become a hashira, waking up in the morning, it’s all for you (M/n). While I’m away on missions, all I do is long to come home and see your beautiful smile while you’re reading to Senjuro. To hold you while you work on whatever new interest captures your attention. To taste your amazing cooking. To simply be around you is my will to live. You’re my everything (M/n).”

“But I am a man. You deserve a strong woman to carry your bloodline. Hell, I can’t even wield a sword correctly, how do you expect me to be good enough-“ Kyojuro’s lips met with yours. “Please stop speaking such nonsense. I don’t need a bloodline, I only need you (M/n).” A comfortable silence overtook the bathroom as he simply held you. Relishing in the presence of each other.

“I’ll tell you what (M/n). After this mission is over, I will marry you. How does that sound?” Your heart was beating uncontrollably. “Hello?” Kyojuro giggled as he caught sight of your flustered expression. “Don’t laugh at me! The man I’ve been in love with just expressed his feelings towards me and asked me to marry him in the same hour.” You slapped his chest as he continued to laugh. “Well, do you accept?” He looked into your eyes. “Of course!” Kyojuro smiled and captured your lips again. “Good, now let me show you just how much I love you.”

You two became one beneath that water. Much to the dismay of Shinjuro’s ears.

*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•

As quickly as he returned, he had to leave yet again. Now you stood again at the gate of the estate. Kyojuro’s hands in yours as you begged for him not leave.

“I must go love. This mission is important.” Kyojuro chuckled as you continued to cling to him.

“Come back safely. You owe me a wedding!” You whined.

Kyojuro nodded and brought your lips to his. Holding you tightly and he hoped you would feel all his love.

“Promise you’ll return to me.” You held out your pinky to him.

He intertwined your fingers and kissed your knuckle. “Promise.”

“Say… what kind of mission are you even going on?”

“Something to do with a train. I’m sure it won’t be hard. I’ll be back quickly!”

#demon slayer #demon slayer x male reader #kyojuro #rengoku #kyojuro rengoku #kyojuro x male reader #rengoku x male reader #kyojuro rengoku x male reader #kimetsu no yaiba #kimetsu no yaiba x male reader #kny #kny x male reader #mlm #bxb #male reader

[bucknastysbabe]

Hi, could you write something that deals with this? ......

https://www.tumblr.com/mhsdatgo/737617577019408384/gorgeous-little-piece-of-shit-king-that-lives-in

So at first I was like lmfaooooo but then I was like wait I can put this little blonde bitch in the WORST situation. I shall do my best, thanks for the request, I hope to get back to my pathetic Aegon roots for this one.

Rating: Explicit

Tags: Dark divergence from canon, Aegon is more cutthroat, King Aegon, Lannister!Reader, she’s a daughter of Tyland, Tyland is on his king behavior, meanwhile dumbass Jason, Aegon has the wife parade, he’s literally still little baby man, Manipulative and morally gray reader, Aegon Is A Pain Slut, ye olde cock ring, ruined orgasms, Degredation, bratting for like 1s, breeding kink, boobs fixation, overstimmimg, pnv!sex

A/N: Wayyyyyy off canon and just so I can make this guy cry also I try to stray from making oc’s but bc it’s a Lannister reader y’know. Body type/face/skin/hair texture is up to you, just know gold hair and green eyes. Also kinda got into a storyline? Idk smut is here!!!

As Tyland Lannister’s only daughter, he sought to keep you on Casterly Rock. It was rare for a house as proud and mighty as yours not to have their fairest ladies sent to catch a dragon’s eye. Or merely have it chosen for you. Jason would’ve had you wedded and bedded to any of the white haired boys by now. Your father was stated once in a letter, “I’d liken it to a den of snakes rather than dragons.”

From his reports they were strange or downright deviant, controlled heavily by their green side of the family. Rhaenyra’s brood was of a better nature but obviously born from the seed of Harwin Strong. So you went about your duties, becoming a fine educated highborn lady to sit around and pop out babies. Maybe order fancy dresses out of boredom.

Although you childishly dreamt that a handsome white-haired man would take you dragon riding, that was not your future. Fate had other plans. Firstly, you were barred from going to the grand wedding of Prince Aemond to Lady Cassandra Baratheon. Strangely enough, it was to be held at the Hand’s gloomy accursed Harrenhal. You wrote an angry letter to your father and another to Jason, downright distraught over missing another royal wedding. You could find a potential mate at one of these gatherings!

Tyland wrote back simply, “I do not want you in that bewitched place. I have an uneasy feeling about this. I pray for you and love you dear lioness of Lannnister, still roaring her heart away.”

The initial anger faded into fear. Then the news had returned. Your Maester read the report. Dragon against dragon, blood to blood, they would call the failed union the ‘Green Wedding.’ Crown Princess Rhaenyra, Prince Daemon, all children dead but her toddling boy and blonde babes on Dragonstone

King Viserys had died the night before. Otto Hightower took matters into his own hands. Some would say it was well executed but not thought out. Princess Helaena had perished, the Blood Wyrm Caraxes attacking her in a fury before she could make it to her own dragon.

Prince Aemond and Aegon had taken to scorching Rhaenyra’s tent and all of her accompanying vassals. Harrenhal was lit aflame again— the Strongs burning up in a sea of smoke. The rest of the Hightowers had been haphazardly thrown into a wheelhouse, Queen Alicent purportedly retching and sobbing, crying for her daughter and late husband. They lay in boxes behind the cart. She had the young Daeron only for comfort.

Your mouth twisted up at the retelling of the scene of kin slaying and wretchedness. Your family had no love for the Blacks but for the Greens to so vilely destroy their own flesh and blood? You idly wondered about all of those dragons without riders. What Corlys and Rhaenys would do? She was fierce yet only had the young Baela and Rhaena.

Tyland had written to stay put, the Westerlands swore to the new King Aegon. War broke out as expected. The dragons saw an end to the strife rather quickly due to the help of Targaryen bastards mounting the riderless beasts. The realm was back under the control of the inept and horrid King Aegon the Second. They called it the half-year’s war. People spoke in hushed tones even at Casterly Rock.

Accursed family, we’re all doomed.

Otto Hightower should be sent to the wall— alas, then we’d have an idiot as a king.

Is the King going to marry soon?

You personally hoped he would marry soon. Jason had requested a portrait of you. There was no hidden reason why— he wanted lion’s blood on the already drenched Iron Throne. Your own father was staunch against that, writing that he had received a proposal from the Reynes of Castamere. You had smiled at that, their heir Ser Lynden was particularly handsome and kind. They had the riches to keep your lifestyle the same.

Not like the Targaryen’s didn’t. King Aegon could maybe see for a Dayne girl with their ashen hair and purple eyes. Or a Celtigar, they still had Valyrian blood. Mayhaps import one from Old Volantis— they claimed strong ancestry.

Alas. The raven came, your father’s anger poorly concealed.

“Even after all of my duties and help to the crown, asking for the Hand to keep my only daughter out of this, you are requested to be shown before the king along with the other highborn ladies of the Realm. I thought about setting my fool brother’s portrait on fire. Regardless, it shall be good to see my young lioness. I will be there every step of the way. Be kind.”

Your stomach sank to your toes before rising back up with anger. If that kinslaying mongrel deviant whore thought for a second he would enjoy your company? He would be sorely mistaken. Dragons may have claws, but so do lions and they are long and sharp. Huffing in anger, you stormed away from the letter.

The trip to the Red Keep was abysmal. It rained the entire way, you had to stop at Deep Den for a night to let the rains up. Their stony, cold castle was damp and you barely slept a wink. You awoke to ride to the Gold Road until the city walls and the Red Keep towered in the distance. You awed at the Dragonpit and the great Sept and it’s crystals.

Regardless of the magnificent buildings, the stench of the city was vile, air putrid with rotting fish and dung heaps. Nasty little peasants ogled your gold and red wheelhouse. Your frown deepened, anger boiling your blood. There was no way one could enjoy living here, fight to be here! King's Landing was a pile of shit with a Castle on top.

You were warmly welcomed by your father, a maid holding your dress aloft so the golden filigree wouldn’t get all mucky. Tyland hugged you and exhaustion fell over your body. You missed him dearly, the singular parent. Although your grandmother was very dear, she too had passed not too long ago.

Heads were still on pikes behind you. The smell of rot was stronger in the courtyard. You said in a miserable warble, “I detest it already, please dress me up ugly, maim me.” The fool Jason patted your back and laughed, “Ah, I missed your acrid tongue. King’s Landing is an acquired taste. Your quarters are facing the Blackwater so you can get some fresh air.”

“Others take you and that damn portrait,” you hissed at your nuncle.

Tyland led you quietly into the huge keep, prying eyes from all around. No pale-haired Targaryens to be seen. You could hear them whisper about the gold of your hair, the wealth oozing from the gown. Yes, like any of you have seen true class since the Conciliator Passed.

Once in the room you snapped at a servant to pour wine, sipping while other’s shuffled in and out to bring your trunks of goods. Tyland even spoke up, “Careful with that dress, please, it is for tomorrow.” You spat, “Tomorrow?”

He held a finger up, exhaustion lacing his face. Swirling the wine around you watched the bay and waited until it was just the two of you in a comfortable silence. Tyland had taught you that— know without speaking, listen when to listen. Tyland looked aged as he sank into the cushioned chair. He ran a hand over his face and sighed, “I thought the Dowager queen would have my back. Her son is much more willful than we thought. Otto wants our coin.”

“Borrow it from a bank and maybe they’ll root these vipers away,” you whispered under a covered hand. You’d been informed of the spies all about under Larys Strong. Tyland hummed a laugh, beckoning you over. Crawling into his lap, you felt as if you were a child again, emotions welling. You began to weep softly.

He rubbed your heaving back and shushed your cries. You hiccuped, “I-If he-he-he ch-chooses me!” Tyland sighed and finished in a quiet murmur, “You will show him that a lion is nothing to play with. King Aegon may be a pandering fool but he is easily swayed. Most of us think he has eyes for the Tyrell cousin.”

“Good,” you heaved. You cried in your father's arms until he put you to sleep at some point, kissing your forehead. Sleep was restless and pointless, you managed to gather some hours before the maidservants came to dress you.

They bathed, scrubbed, and used imported Westerland items. The smell made you homesick. They braided and twisted your hair, pinning a red and gold piece on top. The dress was just as proud— gold, rubies, pearls decorating the sleeves and neckline. Myrish lace was up to your chin, secured by a choker of more exquisite jewels and peridot to bring out your eyes. It cuffed at your wrists too. Maybe it would be too much for the weak-willed king.

The choker represented who you would always belong to— House Lannister, the sigil in solid gold and red enamel. A larger version cinched your waist. He could take the maiden with her tits corseted to her chin. The king merely needed a broodmare. A lingering voice tutted, “He may find holes where he pleases, but the king needs a queen.”

The door opened, Tyland extended an arm, lips in a tight line. He knew what you looked like. A queen.

The hall was full of highborn Ladies as you entered, you instantly recognized most of the sigils and house colors. King Aegon sat on the monstrous throne lazily, sipping wine while Otto ordered around women. A girl in the colors of Rosby didn’t even make a step up before he said, “No chin, next,” he looked down at Otto, “I’ll never believe a portrait. The Lannister girl probably looks like Jason with teats.”

Anger bubbled in your chest at his flippant demeanor and comments. The queen sat next to Otto, chiding Aegon. Thankfully you had a while in line. A while to get rightfully furious with this brat of a king! You had met squires with more dignity than he!

As you neared the imposing throne, you gauged the King’s looks. Definitely Valyrian with his pretty white waves and big violet eyes— hazy with drink and boredom. He was not of a warrior’s build, much to your chagrin. Aegon had shapely thighs but the rest seemed to be softened from his infamous gluttony.

Aegon yawned and pointed, “Redwyne? Not bad, Cole, go put her in the ‘perhaps’ section. Green eyes moved to the score of ladies looking fearful over toward the side. How crass. You could cut his cock off. So embroiled in coming up with torture scenes you blinked suddenly at the boom.

“Lady Lannister of Casterly Rock, daughter of Tyland. Aged 19.”

You stepped forward and kept your chin high, holding Aegon’s gaze intently, lips stiff. The king perked up, moving forward to get a look. He laughed, “Your father is on my council and you don’t pay obeisance?” With a grimace, you gave a weak curtsy to the young King.

Jason looked wide eyed from the side, mouthing, “PLAY NICE!”

Aegon hummed, standing up to walk down the throne, crowds gasping. As he drew closer you noticed the burns going down his cheek to curl below his collar. His violet eyes swam with something, a ringed finger tapping your tilted chin. He rasped, “A lioness for sure. Just overjoyed to get yanked from your golden castle. Is that why you out-dressed the entire kingdom?”

“I had to make sure you knew who I would always be, my liege,” you hissed, “Dragons can be tamed.”

“So can lions,” he quipped back, full lips splitting into a grin. He curled burned fingers into the lace guarding your neck. Aegon cooed, “I do wonder what you’ve got hiding under here. I’m guessing you have some nice teats. That’s my favorite game at the brothels.”

“You’re a vile little kinslaying creature.”

Otto and Alicent seemed to panic before Aegon laughed— a shrieking giggle. He stepped back up onto the dais and cheered, “I have chosen! The Lioness shall be mine blushing bride. Cheers!”

There was the sound of more defeated ladies but their fathers were likely inwardly cheering. Tyland looked ghastly grim, nuncle coming to peel him away. You refused to face the crowds, stepping over to the queen and the hand, fully curtsying. The queen grasped your palms and pled, “Please, guide him the best you can. I see a strength in you I haven’t seen since…,” she looked off and grew drawn. Lord Otto smiled, “More Lannister’s the merrier. Maybe Tyland can lighten his load.”

Aegon asked, “Alright, so when do we begin planning?”

You huffed and went to your father, hot tears soaking your cheeks. You misjudged. You thought he would be repulsed by a powerful woman. Instead he plucked you right up and now held you in this cage for a home.

‘A caged lion is still a lion, yes, yes’, you thought.

Tyland stated with a fury you had never seen before, “You will make that spoilt dragon break and bend.”

“Of course father.”

Aegon whined from between your feet, a dainty gold chain clasping his wrists, connected up to a gold collar engraved with rubies. This king you once hated belonged to you- heart and soul. He’d do anything, but you just preferred him to listen and be your pretty fuck toy. You felt love for him, differently, still love.

You wore a lace shift, the fabric barely covering anything, full tits and the gold curls of your cunt showing through. Aegon made to lave at your knee, getting slapped off. The blonde mewled, “Whyyyyy? I’ve been good?” Toeing his flushed cock, the pathetic thing whimpered and his prick oozed on the marble. You asked, “Tell me why you’re in trouble, My King?”

He swallowed around the collar, doe eyes watery and lashes clumped. Aegon’s cheeks turned red and he barked, “I’m the fucking king, I can say what I like!” You picked up the oak paddle and slapped his soft pooch of a belly, Aegon whining and writhing— the freak spurting more cum, hunching over and wheezing at the pain to his tender tummy.

“If you aren’t going to be my special boy, then I’ll just let you sit here and think about your actions.”

“No! No, I’ll be your special boy. I should not have japed at that squire over dinner.”

You cocked your head and leaned closer, “Why is that hm?”

Aegon sobbed sharply, pouty lips blubbering, “Be-be-because Iburnedhisfamilyscastleafterkinslaying.” You smiled and patted his unruly waves, smiling, “Good boy. The Seven may give you a chance. Probably not because you set your sister and uncle aflame, then proceeded to burn half the kingdom. You should be at the Wall with other war criminals.”

He nodded and cried, spreading his creamy thighs out for you. It was vastly amazing how much Aegon loved to be degraded yet praised. Your special boy. Sliding down the chair you perched on the king’s thighs, cradling his head with your sharp nails. You cooed, “Just needed a guiding hand, look how the kingdom has blossomed since you became my special boy? So pathetic and hopeless. My pretty little baby needs his queen."

He whined, arching into your touch, begging for a kiss. You relented, letting the needy little thing lap and press fervently to your own. He drooled, you wiping it away and taking over the lip lock. Nibbling gently at bitten lips, lapping into a tongue that tasted like sweetened wine. Aegon relaxed into your embrace, leaking all over your thin gown.

He began to rut and rut against your cunt, whining into your kisses. You indulged him until he was swelling and stuttering, backing off and fitting the gold ring around his cock. Aegon wailed and fell back pathetically, the ruined orgasm fucking up his senses.

“Noooo, no, no, I apologized!,” he protested meekly.

Shaking your head you shrugged, “I decide when you are absolved, not a thought in that pretty blonde head. Above men, we are gods, pfft.” He grumbled and squirmed, digging his toes down in frustration.

You returned to play with him, massaging his soft belly while suckling on the tip of his purpling prick, fingers rudely shoved up behind his heavy balls. Aegon moaned and shook, calling your name and begging for release. You drank down his bitter cum, leaking from the attention to his sweet spot from below.

You pulled off to thumb around the crown of his cock, cooing, “Oh you’re so gorgeous. My pathetic, soft little dragon. Feels so so good, yes?” He was practically riding your fingers, shying away from the intensity of the stimulation to his cockhead. The blonde keened, “S’good, g-gonna!” He wailed and thrashed harder, tears streaking a blotchy face. Only a thin stream leaked from his second ruined orgasm.

Aegon was babbling apologies now, promising dresses, jewelry, lands, his heart in a box if he could. It was garbled with his heavy tongue and fervent need. Gibberish really, if one didn’t see this side of their pouty king. What the wretch turned into when denied a good release— a snotty, sobbing, wonderfully broken mess.

He heaved sobs now, oversensitive to even the cool air. But his balls were full and swollen. Patting a limp thigh you asked gently, “Do you want to come now? Inside me? Your punishment is over.” Aegon sniffled, “Please my love.” You would keep the ring on for now but take it off once it didn’t seem he may blow on sight.

Aegon whined high in his chest, more tears falling as you eased onto his plump prick, extra swollen and hot. You gasped and grabbed blonde hair, praising, “Mmm- yes my darling precious boy. Filling your queen up good.”

He groaned and feebly arched, grabbing your tits and holding them as you rode his overused cock. Aegon cried and whined for a suck, you allowing him to take off the shift and shudder as plump lips enveloped your tits. He squirmed and lapped eagerly, loving to have a mouthful of your teats. Especially during that first pregnancy.

You were already close from the intensity of the punishment, swirling fingers around your button while unlatching the gold ring from behind. Aegon’s eyes flew open as he moaned vigorously, balls pumping you full immediately as he writhed around, still attached to your full chest. Your lashes fluttered at the warm feeling, cunt sucking and enjoying the heat, slick, and pressure of so much seed..

Hopefully this would take too. Another little one to dote on. Aegon was full on sobbing now, overwhelmed with emotions. You helped him to sit upright, still inside. He mewled, “S’too much.” You hugged his frame and cooed, pressing little kisses to his tender scars, “It’ll numb out, we want this to take do we not? Be good.”

“M’ still your special boy?,” he asked with reddened eyes.

Petting a full cheek you responded, “Knew whether I liked you or not, you would be. Hush now, relax, we’ll get some dinner and a warm bath my sweet. Tomorrow is a busy day.” He nodded and nuzzled between your tits like a babe. You smirked. Who knew this power could be claimed without bloodshed?

#hotd fanfic #hotd smut #aegon targaryen x reader #aegon ii x reader #Lannister!reader #Aegon ii Targaryen x Lannister!reader #sub!aegon #aegon ii imagine #Aegon ii targaryen x reader

[bau-drabbles]

the night we met, part 2

a/n: mentions of gun and blood. nothing too explicit. hope you enjoy 🤍

what if haley never died that day? but what if your love for hotchner had to?

part 1

i had all and then most of you, some and now none of you...

days trickled into weeks and weeks dribbled into months, hotch had momentarily stepped down as the unit chief leader and instead morgan was in charge. you were partly glad because you didn't know how much you could stand being in hotchner's presence but on the other hand, it was as if your heart willed him to appear in front of you. he was a drug and you wanted to get lost into him, intertwine your souls together as if you were one.

but haley was back and in his arms, safe and sound. why would he give you his time when his wife was there?? all he ever wanted was his family. you were never going to be haley. you could never be jack's parent. you could never be his lover

you're snapped out of your thoughts as the elevator dings, everyone tiredly making their way to grab their personal items and make their way out.

"i'm so excited to go home tonight" emily shrugs on her bag, quickly dumping her personal items into her bag.

"a date?" morgan raises an eyebrow teasingly and she rolls her eyes playfully, shaking her head.

"with my hot tub and before you ask, you're not invited" she gives him a little smirk as they playfully start bantering between themselves. you're lost in the moment, you couldn't remember the last time you had felt so carefree and happy. without a time it felt like your heart was being dragged by anchors, it seemed difficult to keep afloat lately.

"are you okay?" jj quietly asks you amongst the chattering of tonight's plan and you just simply stared into space. it was hard to give an answer and she understood, her hands patting your shoulder sympathetically.

garcia bursts in, capturing everyone's attention. her happiness was practically beaming off from her in waves, excited to share some news. but you walk over to the coffee bench to grab some water, trying to fill the hollowness in you with something other than your boss.

"you guys, may i introduce our newest bau profiler!!" penelope's voice is faint and muffled under the sounds of your thoughts but it's when you see your team giggling at you that makes you perk your eyebrows in confusion. jj waves you over and you narrow your eyes, discarding your coffee to the side.

you hear a coo of aww's filling the room, the team practically melting as you go back to your desk, coming forwards to see what all the fuss was about until you see the vision.

there, five year old jack emerges from behind his parents, giving you his biggest smile. his clothes look like your bau ones, a badge pinned on his jumper to say he was your little helper. he walks towards you, holding some flowers in his hands.

"oh my god, jack...." you chuckle softly, bending down to meet his level. you look at his sweet face and there you see aaron in him, it makes you want to cry at how precious his son was. how beautiful the whole family was.

"thank you for saving my mom, miss y/n" he whispers, his big beautiful eyes glancing up at you.

"thank you for helping work the case jack" you smile softly, gently giving him a high five. he leans forwards planting the tiniest of kisses upon your cheek. then he gives you a huge grin, running off to proudly show his outfit to the others.

you stand, giving him a smile as you grab your bag. hotch was talking to the rest but when he sees you're free, he starts to approach you. immediately as if on autopilot you walk straight to your office. hoping he doesn't follow. hoping he would leave you be.

but your boss was never one to follow instructions

"y/n, how have you been?" he smiles, his dimpled cheeks illuminating underneath the spotlights. he walks forwards but your back is turned to him, seeing him now felt entirely too soon. you thought you were ready but him being here stirrs some emotions you thought had died the night you saved his wife. oh, how wrong you were.

"good, i'm good. thanks" you fidget with the files, hoping he picks up on your discomfort. you drop some papers accidentally which require you to turn around so you grit your teeth and turn, still not making eye contact. hoping someone would call you or him to get out of this beyond awkward situation. but he simply eyes you, his smile disappearing a little. he edges closer and toys with his fingers, his brows raised in thought.

"well... i just wanted to thank you for that night. i can't even begin to describe my appreciation and i never had the chance to talk to you" he tries to smile but you nod, busying yourself with the files in your hands.

"no worries, you would have done the same for me" you smile though every second being in his presence is enough to make you tremble and shake. every second here was enough to make you break and you wouldn't do that. you couldn't break haley and him up after foyet. he deserved to be happy with or without you.

"yes..." he drifts off, unable to shake the feeling that you were avoiding him. had he done something to you? why were you acting like he was contagious with some disease?

"is everything alright?" he doesn't register he's even said the words until you finally make eye contact, your brows furrowed in confusion.

"yes, why?" you reply back a little defensively which adds on to his suspicions, and he's aware something is bothering you now, more specifically he must've done something to make you act like this.

"what's the matter, l/n?" he asks sternly, his brows furrowing deep as you try to side step him. there it is, he's the ssa chief unit hotchner speaking to his colleague demanding an answer.

he doesn't let up and you could feel yourself beginning to break under his gaze. everything that could've been, everything that you so desperately wanted to happen swirling in your eyes. you want to hold him tight and never let go, cry in his embrace and just kiss him until his name is burned into your skin.

only how could you feel like this when his wife and son were but a few feet away, you could hear them now laughing away. how could you be so cruel to do that to jack? he finally had both of his parents.

"n-nothing" you reply hopelessly, it was as though you were under water. your lungs begging for air that never reached for them, your head screaming at you to leave right now. before something happens you'll regret forever.

but he tilts your chin upwards, forcing you to look into his eyes. your breathing was laboured, quivering underneath his powerful gaze. you're not sure which emotion is more dominant, they all burn so bright in his eyes.

i love you, i love you, i love you-

your feet are glued to the floor and you don't let yourself think of the rationality before you do the next part, breaking every rule you had ever written as you both crash into each other.

you don't know who made the first move, all you knew was that his lips were on yours. they were soft, softer than you could've imagined them to be. his tongue swipes against your bottom lip, asking for permission and you relinquish all your control to him.

he holds your head between his warm palms and you pull him closer, needing his touch all over you. his hands trailed delicately across the curves of your body, following the arch of your spine. a burning desire awoke deep in your stomach, arching into him and he tightens his grip around.

"where's dad??" a voice cuts you both off and you jump in shock, heart sinking all the way to your stomach as you realise what you've done.

"i...." he breaks off, taking several steps back. his hands ghost his lips and he looks at you with such an intensity it makes you shake under his gaze. he wants to say something, anything but he only just looks at you.

you were the same, taking a couple steps back until your thighs hit the desk. all of it was hazy, a dream, a play. you try to grasp the concept of what you had done and the shame burns your skin, threatening to spill down your cheeks.

"i-i gotta..." you don't even finish your words, pushing past him. hearing your name being called but unable to turn away, going wherever your legs take you. you managed to duck the rest of the team who were absorbed into the gossip of the office, thankfully. hot tears leave your eyes, trying to calm your racing heart but it feels like you're slipping further and further away from reality.

aaron turns around, his hands clenched around the edge of the desk. pictures of haley, jack and you cloud his mind. how could things have gone so complicated? the kiss it all felt so right, like the piece of the puzzle he was trying to find for years. only now, he feared that your relationship was damaged beyond repair. that this time there wouldn't be a second chance.

he curses, his fists slamming against the desk. all he could think about you, all he needed was you. you were the thing that haunted him when he awoke, before he slept and every second in between. he couldn't let you go like this so he turns and jogs towards the exit, you had to hear the truth.

you duck into the safe sanctuary of your car, bringing your knees to chest. this had all gone so wrong, so fast. you missed him earlier on, missed the simplicity of it all. but now it had all plummeted deep in the ground, unable to be fixed together again. it feels impossible to control your heart rate and your breathing, vision contantly blurry with the tears that won't stop tracking down your cheeks.

in the midst of your heartbreak however, you don't realise that you're no longer alone in your car. before you had time to react, the cold barrel of a gun presses against your temple and your blood runs cold, hands squeezed tightly around the wheel.

words failed you, your scream dies on your lips. hope thuds in your blood, that someone comes out and notices, hoping that he would run after you and gets this attacker off of you.

he had to, he wouldn't leave you alone. he would've come after so where is he?? but the doors remain empty and you feel your heart breaking slowly in your chest.

the voice cuts you off, delivering a hard punch with the back of the gun directly to your temple. you hiss in pain, a wave of nausea and dizziness crashing over you. spots clouded your vision and your right eye was beginning to be covered with a thick warm fluid. it felt hard to see, pouring far too quickly and for a second you panic. but it drops to your lap and you see what it truly was. blood

you inhale sharply gritting your mouth, refusing to say a word. the chill of the metal rests against your head once more, hearing the click of the revolver in place

"drive, now" the voice commanded and you inhale a shaky breath hoping hotch would run out. praying he would come to your rescue. but you realise that life doesn't always go to plan like how you desperately wished it would.

so you follow the order of the foreign man, shaking as you leave the building. far, far away from the safety of your team and hotch.

take me back to the night we met...

#criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x reader fanfiction #aaron hotch fanfiction #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotchner x reader angst #aaron hotch x you #aaron hotch fic #aaron hotch hotchner

[rouecentric]

Hello! Are requests open? Can you do more lant agriche x reader pls 😭😭😭

COLD HANDS AND A HARDENED GLARE.

synopsis ; the cruel head of the black agrece, a menacing man, truly, but he was nothing more than a loving grandfather to his grandchild.

tw/cw ; lant agrece in general, childbirth, death.

letter from the stars ; i made these into a half headcannons- half oneshot and made it platonic since you didn't specify what kind of relationship you wanted lant to have with reader, so i hope you don't mind it!!

LANT AGRECE, a man who's said to not care about anything but himself, a man who's the head of the black agrece, a monster in many people's eyes, but to you? he was just a peculiar and strange grandfather.

the duke thought he wouldn't care about his family, simply using them to his benefits and wants, until his eldest son, dion, had a child with his now-dead wife, with the child thankfully ending up healthy.

but, just for the sake of it and to keep his son in check, he had come unannounced to his grandchild's nursery to see what all the fuss is about when it came to the newborn, as he heard that the newborn was oddly calm, rarely crying or making noise, instead just either staying quiet or sleeping. once he had arrived at the nursery, he ushered the maids and nanny out, wanting to be alone with the child for until he left.

after his meeting with the newborn, it's been said and known that the head of the black agrece would then on often visit his grandchild, usually having a gift for them.

that revelation somewhat shook the other agrece members, but mostly dion, jeremy, and roxana. what did the newborn do to make the head like them so much? they'll unfortunately never get to find out, though.

once the new addition of the family turned old enough, they'd soon enough constantly find themselves stay beside their grandfather's side during meetings, going as far as to join the banquets he went to with their father, aunt, and uncle.

everywhere the head of the black agrece went you would too, it was almost if he gained a shadow that mimicked everything he did. it was almost terrifying to think that the young child could resemble the head that much, even though only in behavior.

it's not unknown that he favored you more than his children, teaching you everything he knew from a young age, as a way for you to both bond and to raise you as a possibly fitting future head if dion ever dies prematurely.

#manhwa #manhwa x reader #manhwaxreader #cw death #tw death #twtptflob x reader #twtptflob #lant agriche #lant agrece #platonic manhwa #tw childbirth #cw childbirth #platonic x reader #platonic headcanons #{astral letters from beyond?}— fanfiction. #this is actually kinda sucky.. I did a pretty bad job on this-sorry!!! </3

[theship-thewalrus]

can i request the alternate ending to this fic

considering in my thoughts after reader died i don't think aegon will even let rhaenyra touch a strand of the baby and im also want to see jace and luke reaction jejdjejejj

Hi anons! I put both of these together, hope you don't mind! I must say I love some sadness. Hope its what you are looking for :)

aegon ii targaryen x niece! wife! reader

pretty much the ask

word count: 1034 words reading time: about 6 minutes warnings: death, le sadness

Part 1 || Part 2 || Ending 1 || Ending 3 || Ending 4 || Headcanon 1 || Headcanon 2

The hurried footsteps of the small group echoed through the hall. Unlike before it was deathly silent, no more did your screams bounce off the walls, your voice was no longer heard and it was as though the world stopped moving. Not hearing you anymore made Aegon speed up, jogging past Rhaenyra and her sons.

The doors were thrown over with little regard to whoever may be close to them. Aegon's eyes roam around the room before they finally land on his wife. The first thing he noticed was the dark red blood that covered the white of the sheets. His mother's sobs filled his ears next, his eyes drifting to the side of the bed where her face was covered by her hands. But it was clear she was crying by how her body moved with each cry. He then registered how pale you were, almost the color of the sheet.

No words were uttered for him to understand what happened. The maesters had failed you, they allowed you to die. The man flew to your side, hands clutching yours as though his will alone would bring you back. But you were cold to the touch, your usual warmth had left you. Tears began to well up in his eyes as his brain began to realise what happened. "no...no, no, no, no," the words poured out of his mouth like a string of prays.

When Rhaenrya saw the scene in front of her she broke, tears welled up in her eyes but they did not fall. Her fists clenched by her side as she takes in the two cryings next to you. Her sweet child, her little girl, was gone. She remembered the day you were born, how she held you in her arms as you wailed. How she swore to protect you from all the worries and pressures of the world. Yet she had failed you, her only daughter. You died thinking she hated you, that you no longer held a place in her heart. All because she was too stubborn to speak to you.

Jacaerys was beside himself with grief, like his mother he had not spoken to you since arriving. He believed you slighted them in some way, siding with his mother instead of his little sister. He should have not cared about this stupid rivalry, you were his sister above all else. He felt like he failed you. Tears streamed down his cheeks, unlike his mother, he held no reservations about crying in front of these people. He would come up beside Alicent, not wanting to get caught up in Aegon's grief.

Similarly to his older brother, Lucerys was distraught. He stood there frozen in place, simply looking at your pale and bloodied body. Despite being so young the boy had witnessed so much death, yet it never got easier. Especially when he gazed at his sister, only adding to the bodies.

Alicent lifted her head from her hands to see Jacaerys standing there. The woman sniffled softly, standing up from her stead before moving over to the other side where her son sat. Jacaerys took Alicent's seat, grabbing onto his sister's cold and limp hand. A delicate hand began to rub Aegon's back, trying her best to comfort her distraught and broken son.

A high-pitched wail took everyone's attention away from the bed for a moment. The door opens and shows a timid and frightened maid holding a newborn child. It had been washed and wrapped up in a blanket, the maid trying her best to calm it. The Maester instructed her to show the child to the Queen and its father, but there was no indication that so many people would be there. The little boy in her arms was crying his heart out, little face contorted and fists balled up. Whisps of white hair adored his little head, the hair was still slightly damp.

Rhaenyra was the closest to the maid and the first person to move. Wanting to see her grandson, to hold him in her arms and maybe even take him away from here. To raise the child herself and away from the claws of the vultures here. But Aegon shoot up, face pulled into a murderous glare. "Don't you dare touch him!" His voice shocked everyone, the maid nearly jumping out of her skin. Rhaenyra stops in her tracks, her hand returning to her side. Turning to her half-brother she spoke loudly, in order to be heard over the small child. "He is my daughter's son, my bloo-" Aegon marched forwards anger blazing in his eyes. "He is my son! My blood! My wife's child!" He screamed, the fire inside him burning brightly.

Everyone was taken aback Lucerys moved to his mother's side, not only to get a better look at his nephew but to also support her. Jacaerys took longer to move to his mother's side, not wanting to leave you just yet. He was not ready to let you go just yet, to leave you cold and alone. But he joined his brother and mother. Alicent moved to her son's side, standing behind him just slightly.

Rhaenyra's eyes burn at Aegon, but she would not fight him right now. Not in front of her daughter's body and certainly not in front of your child. Glancing at you she moves across the room quickly, bending down slightly and placing a small kiss on your forehead. A wordless goodbye and display of the affection she should have been showing you all along. A single tear slips past her eyes and lands on your forehead. "My sweet child, I have always loved you. I pray to the gods you knew that." Her voice was soft and kind, pouring her grief into her words. Wishing her words could bring you back, even just for a moment so she could tell you how much she loved you.

"I will see my grandson. Perhaps not today, but soon." The woman says power is portrayed in her voice. Moving to the door her sons follow. Leaving Aegon and Alicetn along with you and your son. There was an underlying threat in her voice, one that may come soon.

#aegon targaryen x reader #aegon ii x reader #aegon targaryen imagines #aegon imagines #aegon x reader #house of the dragon x reader #house of the dragon imagines #hotd x reader #hotd imagines

[creedslove]

HEARTLESS 💔 - PART SIXTEEN

Agent Whiskey (Jack Daniels) x f!reader

Summary: what happens when you break the cowboy hat rule? You and Jack finally spend much needed time together

(This is the sixth chapter of my HEARTLESS 💔 series)

• PART ONE TO FIFTEEN ON MY MASTERLIST

Warnings: fluff, romance, mentions of smut, teasing, dirty talk, making out, dry humping, sort of breeding kink, a little bit of lactation kink, thigh riding, smut (oral sex f!receiving, unprotected piv), mom!reader

A/N: I know we didn't have the cowboy last week and that made us all very sad, but personally, I think it was worth the wait, I hope you enjoyed it 🥰

5.9k words

The cowboy's heart beat faster and faster, his hands getting slightly sweaty to hold you tight against him, at the same time your words ran through his mind. You'd said yes, to marry him someday, to be his wife, to build a family with you. He couldn't even believe how happy and lucky he was.

You'd broken the cowboy hat rule on purpose, to symbolize how ready you were to be with him, of course he was excited about the sexual part, but it went further beyond that, it was about you and him and Wyatt and hopefully the kids you would have it in the future, about the chance he got from you. Jack was in a turmoil of feelings, only that this time they were good, positive feelings. The fear, the pain, the sadness were gone, ahead of him was just the happiness of having a family he wished for and craved through his entire life.

He looked down at you, wearing his hat and with a happy smile on your face, effortlessly beautiful, giggling at his touch as well as Wyatt who happily ran all over the place. For one split second Jack was sure he'd died on a mission and was sent to heaven, because that was his heaven: his family. But the kiss you placed on his lips was more than real, no heavenly fantasy would be able to reproduce the real deal. He knew those lips, he loved them, how soft they were, how good they tasted and how bad they could make a grown man cry.

You on the other hand, couldn't be happier about your cowboy and you; perhaps you had just low-key said yes to his proposal, but this time the consideration of marrying him didn't seem to be so scary, you would have to sit down with him and discuss things through, plan at least a couple of things for the future and sort out small details from your lives together, for example if you and Wyatt would permanently move onto the ranch and find a school for your son, for instance. But at that moment everything could wait, because the happiness you both were feeling was just too good, it wasn't like the old times with him - very often you had the habit of comparing situations - but instead, it was a new kind of happiness, the one you shared with your family. Even your son could sense how happy his mommy and daddy were, Wyatt had been having the happiest days of his life, but he was a sensitive boy and could tell when things were wrong, however, not this time, as he saw how his daddy held you tight and you giggled at him. He watched as you took his dad's hat and put it on your own head, how you stroked his cheek and kissed his lips, even if Wyatt thought those kisses were icky, it was cool to have his parents so united, maybe they could even become a big family, where the mommies lived with the daddies and their kids, just like he saw in the cartoons.

"Can I play in the inflatables, mommy?!" Your son suddenly interrupted your kiss, making you break contact with Jack and blush slightly to realize your son had been watching you two, of course he gave you the sweetest and most heartwarming puppy eyes you'd ever seen - courtesy of the Daniels' genes that ran in the family - and there was no way in the world you could say no to that little face. Clearing your throat, you nodded, chuckling at how he simply ran off, so excitedly to play some more. You turned your attention back to your cowboy, staring at him and taking in his handsome face. He'd gotten a little older with time, just like you had, but he was so handsome it made you go weak. Your hand ran through the side of his head, fingers burying into his fluffy hair, and running through it, before going a little south and stroking his cheek. Neither of you said a word, you didn't have to at that moment, because it was just you and him. The cowboy had a tight grip around you, he didn't let go of you for his dear life, you knew how much strength those hands carried and it was both assuring and arousing to know you were trapped in between them. Your body was pressed against his, he was always warm and if you rested your head against his chest, you could hear his heart beating. Perhaps it'd been the experience at the cemetery, or how you'd learned about his self-destructive behavior, but you were taken by a sudden fear of losing him. Your heart shattered just to imagine you could've lost him on different occasions and you looked down, letting out a sob before you could even realize it.

"Hey… what's wrong, sugar?" His voice was a soft purr, just as his touch: his fingers on your chin lifting your head up and making you look into his eyes. Jack Daniels didn't want to see his woman cry, whatever reason it was, he would do everything in his willpower to prevent that from happening. Now that you had said yes to him, that he would make you his wife, he wanted to shield you from anything bad in the world. He was terrified of losing another family in the same way, he would definitely have no reasons to keep going if that ever happened, so it was a scenario he didn't even like to think of.

"I-I'm sorry Jack… I got a little emotional. I just don't want to lose you, at all" you sniffed and dried your tears "I want our family to be complete, and I would like for you to also be careful when you go on your missions…" and you also wanted to tell him not to ever lose hope again, but you couldn't; his supposedly suicide attempts had been confided into you by Helen, you couldn't do that to her, at the same time you also didn't want your cowboy to be ashamed of what happened.

"Don't worry, princess… I'll take good care of myself because there ain't no way in hell I'll leave my family waiting for me back home" he winked at you and leaned in again, kissing your lips with a groan at the feeling of you tugging his hair.

Jack smiled between the kisses, his hand going towards your legs as the other sustained your back and he soon lifted you up, holding you in bridal style as you squealed surprised, wrapping your arms around his neck so you wouldn't lose balance

"What are you doing, Jack?!" You asked, feeling excited but also a little nervous. You had no idea what crossed your cowboy's mind, but you hoped he didn't have any crazy ideas, but he only chuckled and walked towards the inflatables, the two of you could see your son bouncing around, having so much fun but the moment he noticed the two of you, he frowned softly "mommy? What happened daddy?" He seemed puzzled to why his daddy was carrying his mommy, maybe she got hurt? But Wyatt didn't want to see his mommy hurt.

"Awe you huwt mommy?"

"Mommy ain't hurt, kid, but she was a little upset so I'm guessing she should jump a little and have some fun, don't you think?" Whiskey winked at his son, who clapped his little hands excitedly and opened space for Jack to get inside the bounce house, so thrilled to have his parents to play with him.

He finally put you down but Wyatt held your hand tight "jump mommy!!! Play with me!"

Perhaps you were still very emotional, but just the fact you saw your son's happiness all over his gorgeous face, the way his bright innocent eyes lit up with excitement at your presence melted your heart and made you tear up. You nodded at him and pulled him for a tight hug "of course my love, mommy and daddy will play with you my angel" you said taking Jack's hand into yours and the three of you bounced together, slowly at first, but increasing the speed as Wyatt had more and more fun. If someone ever told you one day you'd be playing in a bounce house with your son and his father after you jumped into his arms and told him that yes, you were willing to marry him, you'd have laughed your ass off, thinking they were just crazy to make up the most absurd story but there you were, enjoying every single small detail you could. Your future husband and your son. Butterflies in your stomach swirled inside every time you thought of it: marrying Jack. You wanted it, but you were also scared. The rational side of you wanted to take things slow and wait, but the other part of you, the one driven by your heart, that barely could contain your feelings, just wanted your happy ending as soon as possible.

Tiredly sitting down, Wyatt joined you, getting comfortable on your lap and sighing happily, while Jack joined the two of you and pulled you closer. You three caught your breaths, in a comfortable silence that said a lot about how happy you were at that moment. You felt Whiskey's hand on your hair, tucking a strand of it behind your ear in such affectionate way, he had always been careful with it, he'd always loved it, the way it felt under his touch, always soft and smooth, the smell of it, burying his face into it so he could have a peaceful night of sleep. He moved some of it away from your neck, leaning in and pecking it, sending goosebumps all over your skin at the sudden contact. He eyes his son and smirked at how distracted his little boy was, so he kissed your neck again, more intensely this time, his teeth nibbling it at the same time you bit your bottom lip so you wouldn't moan out loud in a fucking inflatable toy.

"Better catch your breath, sugar, you'll be doing a lot of bouncing tonight…" he whispered against your ear loud enough so only you would hear it. Smirking at you with a dumb smile while picking up his stetson that had fallen while you were all playing and putting it back on. You'd broken the cowboy hat rule and it was about time you rode your cowboy. Yet, his words sent a fire sensation down your core, one that unabled you from thinking and the only thing you could mumbled was your cowboy's name. He chuckled and kissed your neck a third time, his mustache tickling your skin at the same time he placed his warm hand on your thigh, stroking it softly and watching how affected you were by his simplest touch.

"I-I think it's time for us to get inside, daddy will help you open your presents and mommy will make us a yummy dessert, what do you say?" You ran your fingers through your son's hair, getting your shit back together and wanting to get away from that bounce house as soon as possible. Jack's touches were enough to set you on fire and you needed to step away from him for a little while so you could catch your breath and act normal in front of your son, besides, you'd picked a bunch of fresh peaches and you wanted to prepare your cowboy his favorite pie, it would always make him happy when you did so and you just wanted to show him how important he was for you.

There was also the fact you knew your son always behaved and obeyed his dad, which meant that if Jack told him it was enough bouncing for the day, he wouldn't whine or try his dirty trick of giving you the sweetest and saddest puppy eyes seen by the human race. Whiskey could keep Wyatt entertained inside with opening his presents and playing and hopefully he would be tired in a matter of time, being safely tucked into bed and giving his mommy and daddy some much needed alone time. Jack nodded at Wyatt, who pouted at first but agreed on exiting after the promises of opening his presents. As the southern gentleman he was, your cowboy helped your son hop off the toy and then helped you, smirking up and down at your body. You knew that grin, that heavy breathing and how he stood at the entrance, stopping you from getting out, holding you and pressing you down against the bouncing floor, his lips once more teasing your skin, kissing up and down your throat, his mustache leaving soft burns all over you. You bit your lips, looking into his eyes, his brown ones shooting you a burning gaze; you knew him, his hunger for you, it was so intense he could take you right there, but you also knew how patient your cowboy could be when it came to teasing his soft little prey. His heavy breathing against your chest now, as he pulled the fabric of your dress down just enough to expose your cleavage, spreading ghostly kisses all over it, his teeth nibbling you gently at first, at the same time you let out a soft whimper.

"Jack, you're teasing me…" you whined as your cowboy chuckled, his hands going to the hem of your pretty dress, lifting it up, exposing your thighs for his delight.

"You want more, sugar? I bet you missed your cowboy, didn't ya?" He saw as you nodded "you've been so dirty for breaking the cowboy hat rule, how about I fuck you here? You don't even need help to bounce on my cock, would you like that, sweetheart? Being pounded like a little slut in an inflatable toy? Sounds like you're a whore for my cock, are you, baby girl?"

"Mm yes, cowboy" you bit your lips, squealing as his lips went for your stomach, pecking it all his way down the hem of your panties. You instinctively parted your legs for Jack, feeling his hands going under your thighs, going up until your round ass, squeezing and rubbing your cheeks. He loved the pleasure little sounds that came out of your filthy lovely mouth. He knew what you were capable of doing with his cock, but he needed to be patient. If he'd waited until that moment to savory you, he wouldn't rush things up now, so he ran his hands to your sides entwining his fingers on the sides of your panties, pulling them down and not breaking eye contact with you at all.

"What are you doing, Jack?" You asked him, feeling your cunt clenching at nothing, being so turned on at the simplest touch; no man could ever do that to you but your cowboy. He knew you entirely, knowing just how to press your buttons and play you like his toy.

He looked down at your naked pussy and it took him all of his willpower not to touch you right there and then, but he had further plans for you. Taking your panties off he chuckled at you, showing you the wet spot on the thin cloth and smirked "barely touched ya and you're already wet for me, angel… now let's see if you're still as sweet as I remember" the cowboy whispered his words hiding his obscene intentions at the same time he took your panties to his face, licking the puddle of your wetness, groaning at the taste before shoving your delicate piece of lingerie into his back pocket.

"You're still the sweetest cunt I've ever tasted, no wonder you're my sugar" he placed his hands on his waist and watched as you pulled your dress down and looked at him in a mix of embarrassment and desire. You pulled Jack by the shoulders, kissing him as deeply and intensely as you wanted, tasting yourself briefly on his lips, you felt you could stay there forever, if it weren't for Wyatt's voice interrupting you.

"Mommy!!! Daddy!!! We need to open the pwesents!" He shouted excitedly from the front door and you managed to cover yourself even more.

"Coming, cowboy!!!" Jack shouted back and waved at his son, who giggled and ran back inside. Then, he extended his hand towards you, helping you up but snapping your hand away from his back pocket

"They're mine now, sugar, so you better behave as your sweet cunt is now exposed for me" he winked at you and made you blush softly.

•••

"What awe you doing, mommy?" Wyatt tilted his head curiously as he stood next to you, watching your every move attentively, loving the smell of whatever mysterious dessert you were making and warming your heart at the fact your son was definitely just like his daddy: crazy about his peach pie.

"I'm making grandma Daniels recipe, honey: peach pie… your daddy used to love this dessert when he was little like you, his grandma would make it for him almost every week, and when mommy and daddy lived together, I also used to prepare it for him and he loved it!" You explained to your son, loving how surprised and happy he got at that information. While Jack was in the living room, picking up the shredded pieces of colorful paper that once gift-wrapped Wyatt's birthday presents. Since your cowboy took care of your son, you went to the kitchen to prepare his pie, being too agitated to focus on anything or nothing at all, it didn't matter if you wanted to actually distract yourself or not: all you could think of was Jack Daniels.

The way he had barely touched you and yet your whole body was set on fire, or the simple anticipation for the moment you would share in a little while, after all those years apart from each other, couldn't contain the lust you were feeling for that man. There was no denying you couldn't resist to him, he was intoxicating, poisonous even, the kind of touch to linger on you and make your skin burn at the memory, even if you'd freshened up and changed to another cute and tempting summer dress - without panties, respecting your cowboy wishes - you could still feel the warm slick pooling between your folds each time you moved. After going over all the amazing presents your son got, you decided to hide away in the kitchen hoping you'd be able to think of something else, but it was no use: your memory took you back to the bounce house.

Wyatt's presence helped you snap away from your wet daydreams as you explained to him all about the new sweet you were making, he was very curious and his tummy was very happy to know he would be trying that delicious treat soon. You had never eaten peach pie again, not after you and Jack broke up, it was one the small little things that reminded you of him and it made everything even more painful, but now you had no reason to dwell into that puddle of sadness any longer, you and the cowboy were back together, your family was happily united and you were so ready to be railed by your cowboy until sunlight.

Only when your son fell asleep though.

And by the excited way he was chatting and asking questions, it seemed it would still take a while; you chuckled to yourself at the situation, Jack had insisted on having another child and yet you two couldn't even handle one. It was one of those sweet ironies of life and you wouldn't trade that for anything in the world.

"I thought you said you'd climb upstairs and change into your new cow PJs so you would show mommy you're a big boy now?" Whiskey folded his arm and stared at Wyatt with a serious expression only to soften up and open his arms to his son, who giggled and ran to his daddy's embrace. Someone had gifted your son a new pair of cow themed pajamas and he was really excited to put it on, wanting you to see he could do it on his own. Your heart clenched at pride of seeing your son was growing up and becoming an independent little child and also at the fact perhaps he was growing up too fast. However, you lost your track of thoughts the moment he disappeared into the second floor running as fast as his little legs allowed him in order to get changed and the cowboy cornered you.

Feeling his presence on your back, he held your hips and pulled your body against his.

"I like this new dress, sugar… aren't ya all fresh and sweet for your cowboy? You know I've been thinking of this sweet pussy the whole night, right? You've been such a filthy little whore, breaking the cowboy hat rule on purpose, and all for what? Leaving me with a hard on? Getting this tight pretty pussy soaked for me?" His filthy words whispered like a prayer into your ears was more than enough reason for you to press your thighs together. The knot of anxiety, anticipation and lust all mixed up together in your lower belly just made you want to ignore everything around and spread your legs so he could take you right there. You were so slippery all he would need to do would be slide into you into one single motion and have his way with you. Never in your life, you thought you would be aching to be Jack Daniels' cum slut again.

He trailed more kisses down your neck towards your shoulder, at the same time he lifted your dress just enough to reveal your named ass cheeks, satisfied to see you didn't have anything on underneath it, exactly the way he liked you. Pressing his crotch against your ass, you finally felt the damage you'd left on your cowboy's pants. He was rock hard, probably had been for a while, and it was pretty satisfying to realize he was as affected by you, as you were by him.

The two of you were a match and no one could state it otherwise.

"Feel it, sugar… this is what you do to me. There ain't no other like you in the world, no other chick would ever be able to make me this hard, no one would ever be as sweet as you are, I can't wait to feel you all over me"

At his words, you grinded against his crotch. The low groan escaping his lips was enough for you to do it again, your naked ass cheeks grinding against his boner, hands tightening the grip on your hips as his own met yours at the same pace, pressing you harder against it so it would apply more pressure. He threw his head back, loving how it felt to be humping you like that, he was throbbing under his pants, seeking relief and hoping he would last a decent amount of time when he finally fucked you.

"Don't forget your cowgirl boots tonight, sugar… you gotta be dressed for riding" he gave your ass one soft slap as unfortunately, it didn't last long as small steps were heard coming down the stairs, so he lowered your dress carefully and sat at the kitchen table, pretending nothing had happened the minute Wyatt walked into the kitchen.

•••

You couldn't even believe it when your son finally closed his little eyes and went straight to dreamland. It seemed it'd taken forever for it to happen. You'd had enough time to finish baking your pie, letting it cool down and only after a glass of warm milk and two bedtime stories, Wyatt finally fell asleep. You told Jack you'd tuck your son into bed, while the cowboy went to his own, you knew he was probably sorting some things out which again, shot another wave of anticipation down your body. It felt kind of ethereal to know you would be sleeping together in a matter of time, but you were so excited and willing to submit yourself whole to your cowboy, and you could bet he was feeling just the same for you. Kissing your son's forehead goodnight, you left his bedroom as quietly as possible and went to your own, wanting to take a look at yourself and make sure you were looking alright for him. You got your cowboy boots and put them on, checking yourself in the mirror, you decided not to put on any lingerie, just your short light dress and your boots would be enough to ride your cowboy. You just brushed your hair a little and went to Jack's room.

Your heart was hammering on your chest, and you felt quite anxious. On the one hand you were going to come back to the pleasure you knew, loved and craved; on the other hand, it was almost like you were as nervous as when you lost your virginity. You would be officially Jack's and he would be yours, much to your happiness, you were about to become one again. You knocked on his door and bit your lips, looking down at your own boots as he opened the door, and you could see in his eyes he had all the Whiskey in him; your sweet Jack was out of the room and entered the dirtiest man you'd ever met: Agent Whiskey.

His leather jacket was gone, but he stood in his full cowboy glory, with his riding boots, tight jeans and stetson on, enough to make your mouth water and you crash your lips against his, feeling the hunger for that man overwhelming your judgment and your senses. He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into the room and locking the door behind you. His hands went immediately to your ass, squeezing them and dragging a moan from you. Jack chuckled in between kisses and nibbled your bottom lip

"Remember you asked me for a date? I got one for ya, sugar" he winked and took you by the hand, guiding you to the balcony of his room, where a table was sat with two glasses and some of the finest beverages by Statesman. He pulled the chair for you, making sure to use his manners, and earning a sweet smile. That old broken heart of his wasn't that broken anymore, as it filled with love each time more, each time he spent next to you. He sat down, manspreading on his chair, which made you lick your lips, at the sight of his big bulge. He followed your eyes on him straight to his crotch and licked his own lips, smirking

"Guess you don't wanna go on a date, Suger?" You shook your head and he nodded, patting his thigh so you'd sit on it.

It didn't take you seconds to just jump from your seat to his lap, feeling so hot and bothered at the man's body so close to yours.

"I have broken the cowboy hat rule Jack, you gotta do something about it" you teased him, welcoming his lips for another kiss, at the same time his hands played with the straps from your dress, pulling them down and watched as the cloth ran down your perfect chest, exposing your tits for him.

"Look at that, sugar… how beautiful your tits are. I missed them" his thumb ran over your nipple, loving how it hardened under his touch. You were always so responsive to it, it pleased that cowboy to no end. He kissed your throat, sinking his teeth into your skin, not caring if he would leave a trail of hickeys all over it, getting his mouth onto your nipples, licking them gently, one at a time, before suckling on them, you were still as sensitive as he remembered.

"I want them fuller, sugar… I want to see your tits so damn big full of milk… too bad I missed it with our first cowboy, but I'm definitely putting a baby in you very soon…" he mumbled against your nipple before latching onto it and suckling on it once more. You took the stetson off his head, placing it on the table and burying your fingers into his soft hair, tugging at it gently as he took time with your breasts. You parted your legs shifting your weight and sitting on his thigh, lifting your dress up above your waist, your wet, slippery cunt straight against his rough jeans as you loved your hips slowly at first, closing your eyes and enjoying the pleasurable feeling.

His right hand went for your waist, holding you and helping you grind your needy count against his thigh. His jeans were thick and it made your clit so sensitive at the friction, Jack wouldn't leave your nipples, face buried deep between your breasts.

"How are you putting a baby inside if all you do is tease and not fuck me?" You blurted out, the impatience and the need for his cock making its appearance as you needed him. Jack frowned and stopped everything he was doing, holding you by the hips and swatted your ass hard, making you whimper and kissed you deeply, wanting to show you who was in charge there. The cowboy would take care of your dirty mouth and your tight sweet pussy. He broke the kiss and got his hat, placing it on your head. It was finally time for you to ride your cowboy.

•••

The way he got up, pulling you to him and carrying you to the bed as if you weighed nothing, only added more lust to your hopeless case. You needed that man and you would do anything for him in order to fuck you; it would be too easy for him to lay on the bed and just fuck you there, he needed more, he wanted you to ride him, and he was definitely willing to have every inche of your body. Finally stripping you off your summer dress and having you standing in your naked glory in front of him with the exception of your riding boots and your hat, this cock was about to burst his pants. He was painfully hard, but he knew it was worth the wait. Sitting on the edge of the bed, he pulled you closer, admiring every inch of you, he scanned your naked body meticulously as if it was the last time he would ever spot such beauty.

"Don't be shy, sugar" he cooed and kissed your stomach again, resting his head on it briefly and closing his eyes as if he'd said a prayer in gratitude for having his family back. Then, he quickly got rid of his clothes, kicking them out in a sloppy way here and there, before finally lying onto the mattress and relaxing. He pulled you on top of him, seeing you were ready to take his cock inside, but he wanted more than that, so he pulled you closer, towards his chest "ride your cowboy now, sugar, don't hold back though" giving you the order, even if it was in his soft voice. You understood perfectly what he wanted and you were going to give it to him. Getting even closer to his handsome face, you spread your thighs aiming his head between them, and lowered yourself, throwing your head back and letting out a loud and intense moan the moment you felt his devilish tongue against your slit.

He hadn't tasted sweeter sugar than you and he never would, because you were the only one he ever craved and wanted. His tongue explored your delicious cunt, running up and down your slit, going deep into your pussy hole until it finally settled on your hard needy clit. His hands showing you the pace, which you picked up quickly, of course still a little shy in the beginning, but moving as soon as the pleasure build up inside of you. You rode your cowboy's face, his perfect nose brushing against your clit as his perfectly trimmed mustache was a mess because of your wetness, you knew you were too close. It was only the first out of the many times you and Jack would spend together, for the rest of your lives, you reminded yourself. There was no need to try and make it last, you both couldn't wait. He was your honey, your sweetness and your knot was so tight in your lower belly, the moment he told you to let go, you did it without thinking twice; your pussy clenching and making a mess on your cowboy, your clit throbbing and so sensitive and yet, you just gathered the energy you had within and moved to his lap, knowing he couldn't wait any longer. You massaged his cock, you'd missed it his thick length so much, you missed teasing his leaking tip, caressing his heavy balls and making him cum as hard as he made you do the same, but now you didn't need to worry, because that would become your new routine, and you couldn't wait for it.

You held him by the base and sank your slippery cunt down his length, feeling him stretching you up the way no man ever had. When he got as deep as he could, you placed both hands on his chest to look for balance, before moving your hips the way you knew it drove Whiskey crazy. When you relationship began, shortly after you two had met years ago, he had joked he fell in love with you and the way you moved your hips while riding him, and there was some truth behind that; but it wasn't just that, it was everything else. That cowboy had fallen for you at first sight and there was nothing he wanted more than make you his forever. You fastened your pace, riding him and feeling how his cock throbbed inside of you, loving every second of it

"Come on Jack, give it all to me cowboy, it's your turn" you whispered to him, feeling another orgasm approaching and working on it, wanting to cum more, at the same time he finally let go and shot his load inside of it. You could feel every inch of him inside, his thick hot cum going as deep as it could reach and you only collapsed on top of him, resting your head on his chest while you tried catching your breath. Jack tried doing the same, since he was silent and it was quite difficult for that cowboy to ever shut up, it was the proof he was coming down from his bliss as well. You smiled lazily and pecked his chest, seeing how some of his chest hair was already going gray and felt a wave of affection for him.

Your Jack.

Your cowboy.

"I love you" you whispered against his skin, the confession everyone knew but you hadn't dared to say it out loud, not until that moment, but it was necessary, you wanted him to know, to hear about, to feel it, everything about your love. You loved that cowboy with all your heart and he loved you just the same, and from that moment on you two could finally be the family you were meant to be from the start.

____

A/N: I love this cowboy so much 😍😭🤠

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal x y/n #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal fanfic #pedro pascal imagine #agent whiskey #agent whiskey x reader #agent whiskey x you #agent whiskey x y/n #agent whiskey fanfiction #agent whiskey fanfic #agent whiskey imagine #jack daniels #jack daniels x reader #jack daniels x you #jack daniels x y/n #jack daniels fanfiction #jack daniels fanfic #jack daniels imagine #kingsman #kingsman fanfiction

[ponderingmoonlight]

Nanami fearing rejection from his wife and daughter after Shibuya left him seriously wounded

Pairing: Nanami x wife!reader; Nanami x daughter

Word Count: 1,9k

Synopsis: Even though he survived Shibuya, Kento Nanami dies from the inside just by the thought of losing you and his precious little daughter due to his severe wounds and scarred skin. But despite his great fear, your reaction turns out completely different than expected.

Warnings: Let's just pretend this is how it ended okay I'm crying, tried to proofread this but I'm just veeeery depressed right now, this might be the fluff you NEED after today's episode

Request and idea by gorgeous @wifenanami <3

Everything’s a blur. What happened last? How did he get here? His heavy heart skips a beat. Oh, right. His whole left side burns like a thousand fires, arm unable to move even an inch by the way his skin feel like bursting every minute. He was severely burned. The last thing he saw was…

Haibara, then Yuji, and then…

You.

Oh god, just the thought of you kills him from the inside.

“Hey, easy there. Your heartbeat is jumping out of the roof. You need to rest now, Nanami. I already called your wife.”

The smell of burned cigarettes simply takes his breath away, along with the venomous words that leave Shoko’s mouth so casually.

“My wife?”, he coughs out, body desperately trying to sit up.

No, this is impossible. You can’t see him like that, body covered in burn marks with his left eye and hair missing. What will you think of him? And what about your daughter? That sweet innocent angel, will she even be able to recognize him? You, his wife, the love of his wife. Your daughter, the greatest treasure on earth.

Will you be disgusted by his fearful sight?

“Yeah, she’s already on her way. Honestly I wasn’t sure if you’ll make it, so I-“

“Why on earth did you call her?”

Shoko stops in her tracks, laying her head to the side in nothing but confusion.

“Huh, what are you talking about? (y/n)’s your wife after all, why wouldn’t I tell her?”

“What if she doesn’t recognize me? What if she’s freaked out by me? What if she brings our daughter with her?”

His sweaty palms begin to shake uncontrollably. In his life, Kento Nanami lost a lot of things: Jobs, money, people, good friends. But oh god, the thought of losing you, his precious little family. It truly kills him from the inside.

“Stop talking nonsense. Being pathetic doesn’t suit you at all”, Shoko remarks dryly.

His widen eyes dart towards the door, waiting in nothing but thick fear for your arrival. Was this afternoon the last time you looked at him as lovingly as you always did? Was it the last time his daughter kissed his right cheek before she left the house? It can’t be, it just can’t turn out like that.

But you deserve so much better. Damn, you are straight up gorgeous, a woman who turns heads on a regular basis. You need more than a crippled man by your side, more than one half of the man you used to know. He wouldn’t even be mad if your eyes lose the spark they hold for him when you see him today.

“I’m leaving now. Something seems to be off. I’m trying to get back by dinner.”

“Why do you have to go this early? I thought we’d have a little time for ourselves. Since our precious little angel is still at kindergarten and I have the afternoon off…”

Your hands roamed around his broad chest, eyes filled with nothing but affection and love. You were always bad at hiding your feelings, your bright orbs being the centre of his universe. God, how much he wanted to lock the door behind you, how much he longed for your touch. But this sounded serious.

“As much as I’d love to take that offer immediately, the young ones need me, (y/n). But I will return as soon as possible and then we’ll finish what you started.”

“Promise it”, you demanded, a small understanding smile decorating your delicate lips while he held your body so tightly against his.

“I promise it. I can’t wait to see you tonight.”

One last longing kiss on your forehead. One last kiss before he left your house with a last “I love you” shouted into thin air.  

“Damn”, he hisses through gritted teeth, pain pulsating through his whole body, taking his sight.

What is his life worth without you in it?

-(y/n)’s POV-

“Mommy, I’m scared.”

“Hey, hold your head up high, angel. Everything will turn out alright, okay? Daddy is a hero, after all”, you reassure your daughter softly while secretly wiping away a falling tear.

When Shoko called you a few minutes ago, your feet begin to carry you on their own, heart hammering against your aching chest. Your loving husband, the man who gifted you with the precious daughter who holds your hand tightly. She didn’t tell you what happened to him, how he feels. But her tone was as urgent as never before, making you storm down the dark streets of Tokyo in pouring rain until you finally arrived at Jujutsu High, opening the well-known doors to the hospital wing with trembling hands.

Please, let him be alright. Maybe injured, but alive. Maybe distressed, but all in all fine.

Please, let your husband be alright.

You wander down the cold hallways, eyes roaming around the area in a desperate attempt to spot your husband somewhere between the countless injured people. Where is he? Where did they put him?

Suddenly, your orbs get stuck on a wave of pink hair.

“Yuji?” you breathe out.

“Mommy, there’s Yuji!”, the excited voice of your little daughter next to you cries out, already on her way to storm towards the pink-haired boy.

You can’t hold back. Out of instinct you follow her tiny feet, embracing the boy in front of you in a tight hug.

“Please tell me you’re alright, tell me you feel well”, you whisper into his ear.

In an instant, tears start to swell up his eyes, soaking through the fabric of your elegant autumn dress. Your heart shatters into a million pieces, hands gently stroking through his hair.

“I’m not. I’m far away from feeling well, (y/n)”, he cries against your neck, letting himself fall completely against your frame.

Oh Yuji. You hate to see him like that, his thick tears falling like the pouring rain outside.

“I’m sorry for letting Nanami-sensei down, I’m sorry for all the things I did, I-“

“Don’t talk any further. I’m sure you did your best, Yuji. And I know Kento is very proud of you. Please, get some rest now, okay? Did Shoko already check on you? Hey, do you want to stay with me tonight?”

“You can sleep in my room!” your daughter suggests in an instant, hugging Yuji’s leg while looking up at him with doe eyes.

“Thank you, I’m okay. You should look after Nanami-sensei. After all you’re here because of him and not because of me, right?”

“I will always look after you, Yuji. But yes, I’d really like to see my husband right now”, you reply tenderly.

“Is my dad alright?”

“He’s in room 018 down the hall. Please…tell him I’m sorry”, Yuji mutters.

“There is nothing to be sorry about, thank you for your help, Yuji. Come on darling, let’s go see daddy.”

You let out your shaky breath, hand holding onto the doorknob. Finally. You will definitely pay Yuji a visit later on. But know, you have to focus on him. Finally, you’re able to see your husband again.

“Kento, I’m here-“

“Don’t look at me. Get out and never come back”, his harsh voice instructs you.

There he sits, back faces towards you will a white cloak covering his upper body. Your mind begins to race, his punitive tone being to unusual. Not even when discussing, your husband ever turned this cold. What has gotten into him?

“Hi daddy!” your daughter greets her father with all excitement.

His heart breaks in an instant. Why? Why on earth do you have to be here? And why did you have to bring your daughter with you? Why do you have to see him like that?

“I am not the man you fell in love with anymore, (y/n).”

The bitterness in his voice makes you squint your eyes while walking towards him.

“What are you talking about, Kento? I might love you even more after you survived this hell”, you reply in an instant.

“Daddy, what happened to your face?”

Like in slow motion he turns around, revealing severe burns on the left side of his body and his eye covered in bandages. Your heart skips a beat. Oh god, what happened to your poor husband?

“Who did this to you, love?”

“It doesn’t matter how or who. But I understand that I’m not the man you married anymore. I am only half of the man I used to be. So if you want to leave me behind, if you want to take care of our daughter alone-“

He is forced to stop mid-sentence by the way his little daughter presses her tiny body onto his lap, hugging him as tightly as never before. And your gaze that makes time stand still. Your gaze that isn’t filled with disgust like he imagined.

No, your look holds nothing but love and gratitude.

“You can’t imagine how happy I am to see that you are well. When Shoko called me I thought we’ll might lose you. Kento, I…I love you with all my heart. The thought of letting you go, the thought of never seeing you again. I’m so glad.”

And then you sprint towards him, wrapping your arms around his neck carefully with your loving gaze never leaving him.

All pain seems to vanish, nothing else but you matter. Your eyes always tell the truth, he knows all too well. And right now, they scream at him in nothing put the pureness of love while a tear runs down your smiling delicate mouth.

“Now you look like a hero, daddy”, his daughter mumbles against his chest, smiling up at him so widely that even Kento Nanami can’t hold back any longer.

“Because he is, sweetheart. Your dad is a hero”, you clarify with shaky voice, pressing a kiss against his right cheek.

“You aren’t disgusted? Even though I look nothing like the man you fell in love with an never will?”, you mutters.

Gently, your hand caresses his uninjured cheek.

“Nothing will ever distress my love for you. No scar in the world will stop me from loving you with all my heart. I’m so glad you came back to me alive. Nothing else matters.”

“I think you look cool, daddy!”

A single tear rolls down his cheek. For the first time in his life, he isn’t able to keep his composure any longer. A tear of joy, a tear of gratitude. Of course, Nanami was always very aware of what a wonderful woman you are and how well you cared for his little daughter as well. But oh, seeing both of you with your arms wrapped around him, gazing at him with nothing but love and tenderness in your orbs…

Your eyes never lied at him.

How does he even deserve this? How does a simple man like Kento Nanami deserve such a loving wife and daughter made of pure gold?

“We need a cool name for you now, daddy.”

“Daddy first needs all his energy to get well again, sweetheart. But yes, you are right. After all, every hero has a special name, right?”, you reply, chuckling over your very own falling tears.

“I’m not a hero, darling”, Nanami contradicts, running his hand through his daughter’s hair softly.

“But to me you are, daddy. And to mommy too.”

“Indeed. And when all of this is over, I’ll take you to Malaysia”, you confirm, cuddling against his chest while resting your eyes.

“Malaysia, huh? Sounds great…”

Tags:  @arehzhera @ploylulla @tzubaki @beatrexworld @kenstarsworld @dazaisdick @hellkaiserinphoenix  @lauv4chuuya @shadowfoxey @starlightanyaaa @sindela @kayleegomez @sunshine7queen @magalimachete @mokoartpost @gatitam @idontknow1123 @creative1writings @sanicsmut  @mynahx3 @sad-darksoul @chilichopsticks @hellkaiserinphoenix @chuyasthighs0 @ynackerman9499 @keepghostly @wxwieeee @lovelyluna1 @froufrousnowman @hidazinie @tomiokathedepresso  @gojosrealwife  @coffeeluvr96

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #jjk shibuya arc #shibuya #shibuya incident #jjk season two #jjk hurt #jjk comfort #jjk fluff #jujutsu kaisen shibuya arc #jujutsu nanami #jujutsu kento #jjk nanami #jjk kento #jjk kento nanami #kento nanami #kento nanami x reader #nanami kento #nanami jjk #nanamin #nanami my beloved #nanami x reader #itadori yuji #yujin #yuji itadori #itadori #jjk s2 spoilers

[loveyourownsmiilee]

Talking Buddie Language: Ep 6.11

I want to start off by saying Oliver Stark truly blew me away with his acting in tonight's episode. He truly has main character energy in this episode and he did this storyline such justice. This coma!Buck dream was everything I envisioned and more. I know the big problem I'm seeing is the lack of Eddie. However, I hope after you have read my meta, you can understand why I believe the lack of Eddie was so damn loud in this episode and what it can mean going further. As always, thank you so much if you take the time to read this! With that being said, let's get into it.

The Firefam Rushes Buck To The Hospital

It was such a prominent moment where the entire firefam, Buck's literal chosen family, all rush him to the hospital. From the literal second Eddie is out of the driver's seat, he runs towards his partner and pushes Chimney out of the way. There is no way in hell Eddie isn't going to do whatever he can in his power to bring Buck back to life. You can even hear it in his voice when he says, "Chim I'll take over" that he is hurting but trying to mask that hurt to get what needs to be done. He made a promise to Buck that he would always have his back and he was not going to go back on that promise now.

The visual of Eddie on top of Buck's gurney, doing compressions, will be something I will never get over. It was such a deliberate choice having it be Eddie who got his heart beating again and I am side eyeing these writer's and directors for those choices.

There's something that needs to be said about how Eddie is the one who starts Buck's heart again. Out of everyone there, even the two most trained medics, it was Eddie of all people who got his pulse back. Something about how Buck entrusted Eddie with his heart back in 5.14, so Eddie felt wholly responsible for safekeeping it.

After Eddie gets Buck back to them, they wheel him away and we hear Bobby telling the doctors about Buck's allergies and the doctor telling them that they would do their best. What is Eddie's reaction through all of this? He is following behind Buck, almost as if he is tethered to him by a string. He gets the furthest and yells back "DO MORE!" Because that is his partner and he doesn't do too well without control. This is out of Eddie's hands and he can't sit there and trust that these doctors, who are doing their best, is enough for his Buck. They need to go above and beyond, they need to do more than their best because Eddie can simply not handle a world without his partner. The devastation and pure fear in Eddie’s eyes hurts to look at because it’s so rare that we see him like this. He’s so defeated and the camera focusing on his reactions really tells me there’s a reason for it.

After Buck is whisked away, everyone is devastated in their own ways. Chimney is catatonic, Hen is understandably sad, Bobby is in shock but trying to keep it together for everyone else. Eddie? Eddie is crying. You can see the single tear rolling down his face when he screams at the doctors to do more. You can tell this usually stoic man is barely keeping it together. He turns around, walks up to Chim and let's his tears fall as he embraces him. You hear the loud sniffle and you see he is not holding back any of his emotions.

Why is this important? Because it is such a massive difference to how he acted when his actual wife died in season 2. Going back to rewatch that scene, the differences are so distinct that I find it fascinating to see how he reacted to his wife dying vs how he reacted to his partner dying. With Shannon, Eddie is a soldier, he doesn't cry and he knows the severity of the situation. He goes into that ambulance fully knowing there is nothing he can do to prevent the inevitable. He holds her hand and tells her to "Just be silent" so she doesn't use up her remaining breath. This is such a difference to last episode where Eddie ran after Buck and kept calling his name, begging him to just talk to him. He also jumped in and did whatever he could to help save Buck's life even when he was dead. There was something he could do and he was going to do it.

When Shannon is wheeled into the hospital, he doesn't follow her. He stays where he is frozen in place. With Buck, it's a different story. He is almost pulled after him and if it were up to Eddie, he would have followed him behind those doors as well.

The final comparison is Eddie's crying. When his wife dies, he steps out and sees his team. He is containing those tears and walks up to Bobby. It's not until he embraces Bobby that he lets his tears fall. With Buck, he is already crying as they wheel him away. He turns around and lets his entire team see him at his most vulnerable because that's Buck. Buck is someone so dear to him and Eddie is a different person now than he was when Shannon passed. His reluctance to let others see him cry when Shannon died indicates heavy repression on his part. Now, thanks to therapy and a little to Buck, he is embracing those emotions and allowing himself to feel things. He is not repressing those emotions and that is a beautiful thing to remember for his storyline progression this season.

Buck’s Coma Dream Begins

I love love love how the first thing Buck remembered when he woke up in coma world was Eddie. He wakes up and sees a random doctor, who’s really his dead brother, and feels like things are weird around him. The conversation then prompts the idea of Eddie is what I’m holding on to for a few reasons.

D: Maybe the next time you decide to go up a ladder, you should have someone there to spot you.

B: I did.

Buck’s facial expression here indicates immediate disbelief. He can’t fathom the idea where he does something dangerous and there’s no one there to have his back. And not just any one but his specific someone. Since we know this coma dream is basically his subconscious, it just cements the fact that in any universe and in any world, Buck is content with the fact that there will always be someone who has his back. Even though he’s not saying Eddie’s name out loud, just showing that flashback to Eddie telling him “Alright cowboy go get em” proves that he’s thinking of him and only him.

Another thing to note during this moment with his siblings is the importance of who and what family means to Buck. When Maddie tells him about the family dinner, you once again can see it in his face that he’s confused, prompting him to question “what family?” Because he has three distinct families he can think of and consider just that.

(1.) His fire family which includes all the spouses and kids.

(2.) Maddie, Chim, Jee-Yun + Buckley’s???

(3.) Eddie and Christopher.

The last family dinner before he was in a coma was that weird Buckley/Han dinner. But what was the one before that?? Oh yeah the Buckley-Diaz family dinner back in 6.01, which was very significant and foreshadowed a lot in my honest opinion.

I most definitely think in another life (hah), if Buck wasn’t a firefighter, then he would have a career dealing with children. So a teacher makes sense for this alternate reality. I was really hoping for him being Christopher’s teacher but beggars can’t be choosers. I will say however, it’s so important that the second person he remembers in this coma world is Christopher. One look at that ferris wheel figurine in his loft and his thoughts immediately flood with the tsunami and Christopher yelling for help! That begs the question: why Christopher? Why is he so important to Buck that his subconscious is forcing that memory upon him?

Buck Knows Something Is Not Right

I want to reiterate something before I continue, and that is all of this coma dream was conjured up of Buck’s subconscious. These are not things that are true in real life and it’s just how he views certain things based off of information he’s received.

Seeing the Buckley’s trying to be a happy family is really troublesome because it’s not as natural and organic as you would think a real family interacting should be. Buck, from the beginning, knows that something is not right and he’s having difficulty trying to figure out what it is. It’s not until the introduction of Doug that he realizes he’s in some sort of weird alternate life.

I love that his first reaction was to seek Chimney because in every life, he will be the one person that will, undoubtedly believe Buck with anything he needs to say. As he tries to further convince Chimney that he knows him, you see him starting to really lose out on this hope that Chim will be the one that helps him get answers. I think Oliver’s acting was phenomenal because he just uses certain tactics where you see a slight tick of his breath or a slight downturn of his lip that changes how he’s feeling. That entire scene where he’s having a heart attack because Bobby is dead?! Holy hell terrific acting!!! But I don’t want to focus too much on his interactions with Chim or Hen because at the end of the day, this is meant to focus on the Buddie of it all, so apologies in advance friends.

Christopher Visits His Dad

I do not think I have fully recovered from the severity of this scene nor do I think I will for a really long time. The fact that it was Christopher's idea to go visit Buck in the hospital and he was so damn adamant reminds me of how he woke Buck up from his sleep so that he could talk to his father, who was also in a coma. If these two scenes are not meant to parallel one another and signify that both Eddie and Buck are seen as Christopher's fathers, then what is it meant to be?

Eddie, my sweet Eddie, was dressed in all black. I'm talking black shirt, black jeans, black button up. He was clearly meant to be in mourning with his grown out stubble and his dark circles. This is such a vast difference to the grieving Eddie we saw in 2.18 after the death of his wife. He was wearing a white henley and he was sad but not as devoid of all feelings as he was in this episode. But numb or not, one thing Eddie will always be is a wonderful father who loves his child and cannot say no to him. I think it was so sweet that Eddie had to put his own feelings aside and allow his son to see Buck, even if he had to sneak him in to do it.

Eddie in this entire scene was everything and more. I know a lot of people wanted a bit more from him. But this is Eddie Diaz we are talking about. The same Eddie Diaz that barely let Buck in last season and let him see him at his most vulnerable.

H: Christopher?

E: I couldn't tell him no.

C: Is he sleeping?

He is so very clearly devastated and trying to keep it together for his son's sake and it shows. He is avoiding eye contact with Chris because he doesn't want him to see the level of sadness he's holding in his eyes. He turns away and wipes his eyes because this is him trying to be strong but failing because it's Buck. He has to compose himself a bit before he can even answer his son. Ryan’s acting here was so amazing. The man really knows how to do broody and devastated haha.

(Gif by @agentoutofdiaz)

E: Something like that. He's resting. So the machines could do all the work. Make him feel better.

You can actually hear how broken he is by his voice. It sounds like someone who has been crying. Even his eyes are red and teary, which proves this man has been going through it. When Christopher asks him "What are all these tubes?" You can literally see Eddie in the back, closing his eyes and shaking his head. This is where he gives up. He is not strong enough to go on and explain to his son the severity of Buck's situation. He wants to wake up from this nightmare. You can see him struggling so hard when he closes his eyes and accepts defeat. This then prompts Hen to explain why the tubes are needed to Christopher.

Once again, this is how Eddie mourns. He is barely holding it together and you can clearly see the emotions on that man's face. It is the most difficult task in the world telling your child that their other parent is ill and may not wake up. So it goes to show how different it was when Buck had to break the bad news to Christopher vs how Eddie simply could not go into details on the severity of Buck's injuries. Another thing to remember is that Eddie didn't struggle this much when he told Chris about Shannon's death. They hugged while Chris cried, but he did not let Chris see him crying over Shannon. Instead, he went to the beach and cried by himself. It's such a massive turn of events because Eddie simply cannot even hide his tears from Christopher even if he wanted to. He is standing in the background, struggling to explain to his son what is happening with Buck, while having tears rolling down his face.

C: Hey Buck, it's Christopher, I know you're sick but it's only temporary. You're gonna be ok. That's what all the machines are doing, making you better. But wherever you are, you have to come back. Wherever you are right now, you have to come back.

(Gif by @matan4il)

I have no words, I am simply inconsolable. Christopher Diaz ripping out my heart with his words. Not only mine but you can clearly see how affected Eddie is in the background. He cannot look at his son talking to Buck like that. His eyes are diverted and he is openly wiping his tears while crying. Once again, that is a man grieving someone so fucking close to him. You cannot look at Eddie's reaction to Buck and compare it to the others’ because it just feels different. Yes everyone is emotional in their own ways, but none of them are acting like the love of their life is dying BUT Eddie. No one is wearing all black, no one is avoiding looking at him because the simple look of Buck so lifeless will break them, except Eddie. There is so much in his quiet mourning that screams volumes and people are just choosing not to focus on it. Especially when you go back and look at Eddie right after his wife actually died. The differences are night and day.

Christopher’s words to Buck also tie in two important events in the Buckley-Diaz family and that is the tsunami and Eddie being buried in that well. When he tells Buck “You’re gonna be ok”, that’s a direct callback to him telling Buck the same thing before the tsunami happened. That was ironically what saved Buck while he was in his little funk. Christopher saved Buck. Christopher’s “Wherever you are, you have to come back” is also a callback for when Eddie was buried and he was remembering his family. Sure that was what Shannon said to him but I think essentially, the idea of Chris and Buck is what saved Eddie. So here we have Chris once again saying a few choice words in the hope that it brings Buck home and I am too emotional about it all.

Buck Tries To Go Home

I’ve already written my thoughts on what the main purpose of this episode was, so if you’re interested in reading that, you can find it right here.

It’s clear as day that this whole coma dream was supposed to be a catalyst in Buck realizing who he is and that he doesn’t need a job or something else to be accepted and loved. Because the people who matter to him will always love him for being Buck.

One thing I do want to mention is that even in this coma world, he still knows and thinks about Christopher and Eddie. He literally runs into Chris in his coma dream and that small interaction killed me.

C: Can you help me find my dad?

B: Sorry but you're not real and I got to go. I'm really gonna feel guilty for that one.

At the end of the day, there’s a reason as to why Chris is asking for help finding his dad. Even though it breaks Buck’s heart to not help him, he knows to an extent that he will always be there helping Chris and Eddie if they need him. That this dream world doesn’t really exist and out there in the real world, he’ll help them every time.

I’m not thrilled about this weird parental redemption arc. It was too forced and not organic enough to be believable but that’s just my opinion.

When Daniel tries preventing Buck from going back, he throws it back in his face that he was literally made for spare parts that failed. That is literally Buck’s subconscious and his own issues being voiced. When he responds, “Wasn’t my fault”, it further proves that what Eddie has said to him resonated with him. So even though Eddie is missing in this coma world, the impact he in turn has had on Buck is extremely present.

At the end of it all, he finally realizes that he’s Buck and that his family who already love him, truly love him for the person he is. He doesn’t need to change anything about himself, doesn’t need to injure himself for that love because they already just do.

Buck Will Always Be Buck

I believe there’s definitely a long road to recocery ahead for Buck and I can’t wait to see him struggle with the after effects and the ptsd. I love the final team moment in which they all come to visit him in the hospital.

Eddie is clearly much happier than we’ve seen him all episode and he doesn’t want to take his eyes off of Buck. His eyes still have dark circles but he looks a bit more put together. But the moment the camera zooms in on him, you can tell he once again checks him over with his eyes fully, before urging his son to hug Buck. You can hear the elation in his voice when he tells Chris to hug Buck. He sounds less broken and like he’s on the mend himself. He’s giggling and trying to enjoy the fact that Buck is alive.

The Buck and Christopher hug literally symbolizes a father and son reunited and no one can convince me otherwise!!! So wholesome and it really goes to show how different Christopher is to Buck. No one else’s kids came to visit, not even his own niece. And in an episode where the theme is, predominantly, fatherhood/parenthood, I think this is a huge choice to include their special bond.

Bobby and Buck: Father and Son

The ending scene with Bobby and Buck was very heartwarming. This episode really did highlight how close these two are and finally confirmed what we’ve all been saying for years and that is Buck is Bobby’s son. A few things that they said during their conversation really stood out to me.

B: You know you were still Bobby actually. You helped me figure some things out. Find my way home.

BN: Good. Though I still find it hard to believe that you voluntarily left a world where you could fix everything.

B: Not everything, uh trust me it's better here.

Once again, I am very convinced that there will be some kind of foreshadowing here in which Bobby helps Buck figure some things out. Like I mentioned in my last meta, I knew Bobby was going to help Buck figure some things out and in tonight's episode, he ultimately did. He helped him come home. But the way Buck is reserved and doesn't tell Bobby the whole truth tells me that he clearly still has some work to do in his life.

Yes he could have stayed in that world but at what cost? He wouldn't have Eddie or Christopher in his life, he wouldn't have Bobby in his life. So in his most ideal dreamt up world, he is missing the 3 most important people to him after his sister. He was unable to help fix things with Eddie, which lead to him losing his custody battle with his parents. He was unable to help fix Bobby's addiction, thus leading to his death. A world without the Diaz boys and Bobby is not a world in which Evan Buckley wants to be a part of and that speaks tremendous voices.

The Couch Conversation

I am still very annoyed at this weird parental redemption act and I don't know how much longer I can buy that those people have truly changed for the better. One thing that is very important to note is the couch conversation.

When his mother asks him if he plans on getting a couch, Buck is quick to reassure her that "Eventually. I'm good with the chair for now." That's his way of being fine being single for the time being. He doesn't need a relationship, especially since he just came back from a serious injury. Then his mother insists on pushing it further and tells him that she will be getting him a couch. Once again Buck reaffirms that he is "Good with the chair." His mother then seems very adamant on making his loft more homey and he seems ok to let her do it, going so far as calling it "nice."

Now if we all remember the conversation from 6.01, a couch symbolizes a relationship to Buck. He told Eddie and Christopher that he didn't want to pick the wrong couch again and here we have his mother just going out and choosing one for herself. This will backfire eventually because Buck stated multiple times he doesn't want a couch, that he's good with his armchair. So I think this foreshadows his parents, his fire family forcing their support and care to Buck after his recovery, where the man just wants to be left alone to recuperate. It would make sense in that way.

I don't foresee a new legitimate love interest appearing and having us focus on the development of that, especially knowing that there are good moments set to occur between Buck and Eddie. I say this because Buck is on a road to recovery and he will be suffering from some ptsd. Who do we know that just recently went through his own struggles with ptsd? Oh yeah the same person who turned to Buck for support: Eddie. So I strongly believe Eddie will be playing a more important role in Buck's recovery. I also think the couch of it all is very open ended and that it can symbolize many different things. For now, I am choosing to wait and see what the symbolism of this new couch is going to be. Surely it won't stick around forever since we all know who has Buck's perfect couch...

Once again, thank you so much if you read all of this. This one was a tough one for me considering how emotional this episode was for me. Thank you to @aa-lionheart for all the other wonderful gifs. All my love to you darlings 💜

#buddie #buddie meta #911 meta #911 spoilers #christopher diaz #911 on fox #evan buckley #eddie diaz #maddie buckley #chimney han #bobby nash

[vhagarlovebot]

UNLUCKY FAITH.

♡. ── gif credit. ; ( aemond targaryen masterlist. )

pairings: prince aemond targaryen x fem!reader.

summary: did aemond targaryen ever love you?

content contains: this is pure angst with no happy ending, if you’re not comfortable with it i suggest you not to read. aemond being a piece of shit.

note: i’m a real whore for angst and i couldn’t leave babygirl aemond out of it. if there are any mistakes i apologize but as some of you may know english is not my first language. hope you enjoy! reblogs and likes are greatly appreciated.

YOU NEVER THOUGHT aemond targaryen would break your heart, how silly you were.

the moment you felt your heart being crushed was during dinner. you knew something was happening the minute you entered the room and were met with a familiar face. you did not knew her name but have seen her face before. this was a family dinner. a private family dinner, and she was standing next to the prince, a nervous smile on her face.

aemond paid you no mind when you walked past them, just the girl who bowed at you.

jacaerys, your older brother, had grab your arm, leading you to a secluded corner. his eyes were full of worry. “aemond is marrying lady ellyn baratheon.”

your world fell apart in that moment. and if it had not been for your brother’s hold on you, you would have dropped to your knees.

you knew aemond would ask for your hand, you have talked about that just hours before while his head rested on your lap, your fingers caressing his face.

later that night when you went to his chambers to demand an explanation, the doors remained closed. no matter how loud you screamed and cried, he never opened them. not even the day after that, or the next.

and no one knew what was happening. your relationship was never a secret to your family, even though you two tried very hard to hide it from them. so it was a shock when he announced his wish to marry the baratheon girl. his own mother had demanded an explanation for his sudden decision, but aemond never granted her or anyone with one.

the days where you’d walk through the gardens holding his arm, talking about the future and how far would you fly with your dragons if you could, turned into cloudy days spent in your chambers crying. the beautiful moments you two once shared turned into memories impossible to forget.

aemond not once tried to visit or talk to you, even when your absence was evident. the girl he loved so much turned into a mere inconvenience easy to be removed. was that always his plan? were any of the things he said true?

when your mother came to you with the option to go back to dragonstone, you tried to talk with aemond one last time.

you waited for him in the dragonpit for hours, until the night came and he descended from his dragon.

he was really surprised to see you for a moment, before his expression changed to a hard disgusted one. “you should not be here at this hour, princess.” he nodded, not meeting your eyes and simply walking past you.

“did you ever love me?” your voice came more weaker and raspy than you intended.

aemond stopped immediately and your heart, hammering against your chest, held onto a flame of hope.

but the second he turned around, clench jaw and eye devoid of any emotion, you knew it was all over.

“i do not wish for gossip to reach the ears of my wife-to-be and stir up unnecessary trouble.” and just like that the flame of hope died down. “it is improper for a princess to be wandering around this late unescorted.” and just with a nod he ended the conversation.

you were left behind bloodied and bruised, the pieces of your heart at your feet.

hugging yourself you fell to the ground, tears streaming down your face while you tried to comprehend how the man that once killed a man for you, the man that used to profess his undying love for you, is now incapable to look you in the eyes.

the following morning you were found by the dragonkeepers, almost passed out due to the cold, being taken to your chambers immediately.

when you woke up, you wished for it to be a bad dream. but the faces of your family, full of pity and worry, told you otherwise.

that same night you accepted your mother’s suggestion, flying on dragon’s back at sunrise. leaving behind once loving and happy memories, hoping time would make the pain fade away.

you did not heard from aemond targaryen until two years later when a letter came from king’s landing, and all those memories you tried to bury away came flooding back to haunt you.

after you watched the unopened letter burn, you never heard from aemond targaryen again.

#📮 ⌇ my works ​˖⋆࿐ #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen imagine #prince aemond x reader #aemond fic #aemond x reader #aemond targaryen x you #aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen fluff #aemond targaryen scenarios #house of the dragon imagine #hotd imagine #hotd fanfic #ewan mitchell

[starogeorgina]

Killer queen

Warnings: Incest, sexual content

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen × Targaryen OC

1.01

Your earliest memories of Aemond are of him crying out of loneliness in his nursery. You don’t remember much from that time in your life given that you are only a year older than him, but you remember how desperate he was for love and attention.

Your parents, King Viserys and Queen Alicent, didn’t know how to treat you or your siblings. Your father never got over the death of his first wife, Aemma, your oldest sister Rhaenyra’s mother. He was destined to spend the rest of his life mourning her until the day he died, while your queen mother simply wasn’t connected to her children. She was fiercely protective of you all but wasn’t interested in really getting to know her children.

As a result, Aegon turned to drinking and whoring himself to find comfort. Helaena developed a very strong interest in insects, and although you found it peculiar, you were glad she seemed content to spend most of her time alone studying them. Over the years, your mother pushed for you to act like a "proper lady," but that was never who you were. Ser Criston Cole taught you how to fight; at first he refused, but you wore him down eventually by reminding him constantly that the Targaryens have many enemies and you should at least know how to defend yourself.

Aemond was different; he didn’t need interests or hobbies; he needed to be loved.

Not getting the affection he needed from either parent or his other siblings, Aemond often turned to you for comfort, and as a result, he became overly attached. At first, you found it annoying and tried hard to break the invisible string that seemed to bond you, but everything changed when he lost his eye. You’d never know the truth of what happened between Aemond and your nephews; all you care about is that he was hurt. And after seeing how crazed your mother behaved and how laid-back your father was, you finally realized how much Aemond needed you.

And how much you needed him.

“I want to go north.”

Your mother continues to stare out of the window, uninterested in your conversation. “Why is that?”

“I want to experience what it is to be cold.”

She rolls her eyes and stands. She lets out a deep sigh while smoothing out the dark green material of her dress. “What is the real reason?”

“Father has invited Rhaenyra and Daemon to a grand feast to celebrate the arrival of their new son. I thought it would be best if Aemond wasn’t here when they arrived.”

Aemond’s anger towards Lucerys was unhealthy, and you didn’t want the festering resentment to explode and ruin the celebration.

“Maybe the children won’t accompany them. They might stay at Dragonstone.”

“Rhaenyra would never travel so far without her children.” Your mother presses her lips together into a tight, thin line. You didn’t mean to insult her, but it appears that your words have upset her, so you try to backtrack. “I just mean she will need to keep a close eye on them; they aren’t the type of children to be left unsupervised.”

Your mother nods in agreement. “Yes, bastards are known to be a little more wild.”

You feel guilty. Your nephews were better behaved than your own brothers and had shown their family nothing but respect. You’d never admit it out loud, but your dislike for them growing up wasn’t because they were bastards; it was because Rhaenyra was their mother, and you were jealous of how she treated them.

You clear your throat, “So?”

“Very well,” she looks you up and down, then frowns. You had not long arrived back from training, resulting in your clothes being covered in mud. “But you will arrive by carriage, wear proper dresses, and behave like a lady. You will be representing House Targaryen on your travels, and I don’t want any stories of inappropriate behavior getting back to me.”

She gives you a knowing look. Unlike your father, she wasn’t willingly blind; she was aware of all the rumors surrounding your relationship with your brother. Her only comment on the situation was “don’t bear a bastard child,” so whenever you made love with Aemond you made sure to drink moon tea afterwards. Personally, you didn’t see what the big deal was when you were going to be married to him one day.

“Thank you.”

You go to leave the room, but your mother calls to you, “Have you even asked Aemond if he would like to go north?”

“I don’t need to ask him.” You hold back a smirk. “I’ll just tell him I want to go, and he’ll invite himself.”

Your mother shakes her head and closes her eyes, indicating she doesn’t want to hear anymore on the subject.

—

Playfully, you splash the water on the end of your fingertips in Aemond’s face, hoping to make him smile, but he just remains the same, silent with a blank expression on his face while he continues to wash your back. His mood has been sour since you told him of your plans to travel, although you weren’t sure why. He usually enjoyed being your travel companion.

Most princesses got their baths drawn and their backs washed by handmaidens, but your mother put a stop to that as soon as you and Aemond hit puberty because he was always with you, including when you washed and changed. It was mainly innocent; he just liked spending the time talking to you when nobody else was there.

You take his free hand and kiss the back of it. “What’s wrong, my love? I thought you would be happy.”

“Ashara…”

“Do you think it will be so cold that we will need to bathe together to stay warm?”

He clicks his tongue and says, “I doubt that will happen. I’m sure all your suitors will be keeping you far too busy.”

The seriousness in his voice made you pause your movements. “My suitors?”

His eye widens slightly as you turn your head to look up at him. He studies your face for a moment before his features soften. Aemond kisses the tip of your nose. “It’s not important.”

A pressure builds in your chest. It takes you a second to recognise that to be the feeling of dread. The feeling as if you were an observer looking in hit you hard. Aemond was keeping something from you. “Aemond! Tell me!”

He snakes his arm across your chest and roughly grabs at your breast, rubbing his thumb over your hardened nipple. His lips brush against your ear. “It’s nothing; I’ve just missed you.”

“I saw you at breakfast this morning.”

“Yes,” he says, kissing your cheek. “And now it’s nighttime.”

He lets go of your breast and moves further around the side of you, his hand now stroking the side of your thigh. You knew he was holding back but decided not to push it; you’d wait until he was in a better mood before questioning him.

His fingers found their way to your core. Aemond rubs his thumb in circles over your clit. He smiles when your legs part, giving him more access. He was a master of your body and knew exactly where to touch you. He slips two fingers inside you while continuing the rubbing motion on your clit.

You grabbed Aemond by the jaw and pulled him down to kiss you. Your other hand tangled in his hair. You stay locked in a passionate kiss until you become a whimpering mess. Suddenly he pulls away, smirking, and says, “Show me how much I mean to you.”

You step out of the bath, being careful not to slip, and follow Aemond towards a chair. He pulls his trousers down to his knees and sits down on the chair, motioning for you to sit on him. You straddle either side of him, lining him up with your entrance, then sink down. You bury your head into his neck and say, “Oh god.”

He thrusts up sharply and smacks his hand against your backside hard enough for it to sting, but not so hard that it would be painful. “No, show me.”

You grip his shoulders tightly and start to ride him. Your wet body pressed against his dry clothes, leaving damp patches across them as you bounce up and down. He grabs your throat without squeezing, forcing you to look at him as his other hand starts to rub at your clit again.

“Aemond, please,” you beg as your legs start to shake.

He ceases his actions, saying, “Remind me, who gets to touch you?”

Your legs begin to ache, adding to your desperation to climb. “You! It's only you who gets to touch me, and it will only ever be you!”

“Good girl,” he kisses you roughly, letting you go of your neck and pulling you in as close as possible with one hand while the other touches you where you need it most. “You're always such a good girl for me.”

Hearing those words, the coil building inside your stomach snaps, “Fuck Aemond!”

You dig your nails into his shoulder, leaving red marks on his skin, and the feeling that you clench around him causes his own orgasm. After he’s cums, Aemond stays inside you while catching his breath. You fall forward, and he kisses your cheek.

Between pants, he asks, “When do we leave?”

“So are you coming with?”

“My sweet Ashara, there’s nowhere in this world I wouldn’t follow you.”

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[written-in-flowers]

Can you write about sister-wife giving birth to her and Aegon’s first child and it’s not an easy birth?

A/N: since I love them so much, I made this part of the dad!aegon universe with his sister-wife and their gaggle of children. I'd already written her giving birth to their newest child from the beginning of the series, and well....you read my mind lmao

****

Two for the Effort of One

Agony. Absolute agony. Your screams ripped through the room, drowning you from sight and sense in every push. Sweat matted your hair to your forehead and stuck your linen gown to your skin. The tightness in your abdomen nearly made you ill; you thought you might die from the long periods you went without breathing to push. At times, you nearly gave up and surrendered to the pain before a new round of torture began. Your body became numb to everything except the pain: you couldn’t feel your mother’s hand tightly clasping yours, or the light cooling towel Helaena dabbed on your forehead. Their encouraging, soothing words died in the wake of your screams. You’re positive the entire keep could hear you. You hoped Aegon did.

“Where is Aegon?!” you cried, tears falling down your cheeks as another ripple went through you. “Where is he?!”

“I’m here, my love.”

A new hand took your other free hand, not bothered by how tightly you gripped it and kissed your knuckles softly. Through the blurry vision, you saw the mop of silver waves and the pale face of the man you loved.

You slapped him.

“This is all your fault!” you shouted, biting through the labor pains. “If you knew how to pull out properly, I wouldn’t be here right now!”

“Maybe if you kept your legs shut for more than ten minutes, I wouldn’t have put it in in the first place!”

This rude insult caused you to make the big final push. It was like trying to push a boulder through a crack in the wall. The baby simply did not budge. No matter how hard you tried, it did not happen. The maester felt around your belly, and looked to your mother. 

“The baby is breeching,” he told her concernedly. 

“What?”

“We must turn it now.”

Fear started filling your chest, making it tighter and harder for you to breathe. You heard what happened to women whose babies breech. Tears freely flowed from the corners of your eyes and down your cheeks. Your hands grasped your mother’s and husband’s hands while you tried another feeble push. You felt suffocated by the heat around you. The room felt stuffy and hot. The people hovering over you made it worse. 

“Mo-Mother,” you cried, clinging to her arm, “I don’t want to die! Mother, I don’t want to die!” 

“You won’t die, my love,” she comforted you, taking the cloth from Helaena to dab on your cheeks. “You will live. They’re only going to turn the babe around.”

“How are they going to-”

You cut your sentence with a howling shriek. With the help of Aegon and your mother, you got to your feet. She and the maester helped you rock backwards and forwards despite the burning pain all over your body. You did not know how this helped, but you’d do anything to make it stop. After a few minutes, a sudden brush of relief came only to immediately be replaced with pain once more. 

The world came back to you fully in a baby’s cries. The maester caught the baby as it slipped out of you, and Aegon helped you back onto the bed. You slumped back into the pillows behind you, taking deep breaths as your head felt light. Struggling to catch your breath, you reached out for Aegon again. Not to hurt him, but to grab his attention. Your chest felt tight, and you thought you might faint. Aegon called to the maester, who immediately called for air. Aegon and another maid opened the remaining windows, allowing a soft breeze into the room. Helaena fanned your face with cool air, and encouraged you to breathe slowly. In the background, you hear your child continue to cry. Your half-opened eyes stared down to see the maester swaddling a bloody mass in a cloth and bringing over to you.

“A girl, Your Grace,” he said, handing your newborn daughter to you.

With weak arms and supervision, you held her in your arms. Wiping her head with the cloth, you saw strands of white against her pink scalp. Deep pink, tiny hands reached out and the red face squinted into more crying. Your body felt weak, but the urge to see your newborn girl kept you awake.

“She’s beautiful,” Aegon sat beside you, rubbing her head gently and looking down at her. “What shall we call her?”

“Daenys” you breathed. “Like Daenys the Dreamer…”

“Very fitting,” he agreed, kissing your forehead. “Please rest, my love. We don’t want-”

“-Oh Seven Hells!”

Another sudden pain shot through you, and your screams overshadowed Daenys. Holding her steady in your arms, you hunched over as you felt your body splitting open once more.

“Maester, what’s happening?!” Aegon looked at him for an answer. 

A midwife gently took Daenys from you, and you gripped the bed sheets tightly. This time, the pain came hot and fast. Your weakened body could barely push through it, and you tried taking breaths in between but it became more and more difficult. The maester looked between your thighs, and gaped.

“It’s another baby, Your Grace,” he informed Aegon. “It’s coming quickly.”

“Twins?!”

As the maester said, your second child came out in one hard push. You fell back onto the bed, your sister once again fanning you and your mother wiping your brow gently. Aegon held Daenys while watching the midwife clean up and swaddle the second child. He glanced over at you and then back to the people surrounding your baby. You watched the green and ginger of your mother overshadow them both, and her talking low with the maester. You noticed your son’s silence. The worst came to mind.

“What’s…What’s happening…” you breathed, “What’s wrong with my baby? Aegon, what’s wrong?” You tried to sit up, but Helaena urged you to stay down. “The baby, what’s wrong? Aegon, please. What is it?”

You started sobbing. The lingering pain dull in your body, the tightness in your chest and now the fear of the worst possible thing came all together at once. You begged them to say something. You didn’t hear the babe’s squalling like their sister. Finally, as if the Gods answered you, the second baby started matching your cries. You breathed relief through your tears, laying back down and holding out your arms. Aegon’s teary violet eyes looked over at you, and he smiled.

“It’s a boy,” your mother came to you, holding your son and putting him in your arms.

Another Targaryen with the white hair and violet eyes. He had the exact same face as his sister, which resembled Aegon’s. He cried in unison with his sister. “His name, my love?” you asked Aegon, keeping to your agreement in naming the children.

“Daenor,” he finally said after a pause. “Daenys and Daenor Targaryen,” he sighed, looking down at Daenys, who’d stopped crying in her father’s arms. “Gods, Y/N, must you give me twins?”

“I thought it’d bring some peace to our household,” you jested, giving a weak laugh as your exhausted bones began to win you over.

The days leading to this moment were filled with your children arguing over whether the babe in your belly was a boy or girl. The boys wanted a little brother. The girls wanted a little sister. You only wanted a health baby. The last pregnancy did not end as successfully, and you worried this would be the same. You looked at Daenor in your arms, his little hand making a slow grabbing motion. Putting your finger to his small hand, he gripped it lightly and held it. He’d grow to be a great man one day. Your mother soon took Daenor from your arms, cradling and cooing at him.

“You must rest, my dear,” she told you gently, kissing your forehead. “Your labors worried me greatly, and you must recover.”

“Where are the children?”

“In the nursery,” Aegon answered, still admiring Daenys. “You will see them soon enough, dearest.” He looked back at you, and kissed your lips softly, “You did well, my lady wife. You did so well…even if you did hit me.”

You laughed softly, “I hope it did not hurt too badly.”

“Eh, I’ve been hit harder,” he admitted.

You both chuckled and kissed again. You held Daenor for a short time longer, pecking her head and giving him to your mother; you kissed the top of Daenys’s head, her smooth hairs on your lips, then he took her from you. Your body remained stiff and sore as the maids washed you with cool sponges and removed your bloody, sweaty gown. Soon, sleep fell over you and rest came.

****

Aegon could not believe it. Twins. Two babies for the time of one. If someone came to him years ago and told him he’d have six children, he’d laugh in their face and offer them another drink. Walking with his mother, carefully holding Daenys while she held Daenor, he felt nothing but pride and love. He could not believe he’d helped make such a delicate, lovely, beautiful being once again. The child in his arms and those in the nursery are the only reason he takes his position as a prince seriously now. Making a better world for them to live in when he’s gone meant so much to him. He’d begun helping Lord Beesbury fill the royal coppers after their continued battles in the Stepstones started emptying them. If Aegon knew anything, it was how to weasel money and precious items from people.

“Children,” he called into the nursery, “Children, where are you?”

“Is that the baby?!”

“The baby’s here!”

“But there’s two of them! Why are there two?”

“It’s twins, you fool.”

“Who are you calling a fool, fool?!”

“Boys, boys,” he cut right between his two sons before Vaelen could answer. “Not right now. Your sister and brother are here.”

Aegon put Daenys into the large cradle, and his mother put Daenor beside her. He awed over them both. They are near replicas of one another. How on earth can anyone tell them apart other than looking downwards? He supposed when they grew up the similarities would fade away. Baelon and Vaelen came to his side, and Daella and Saera stood with their grandmother. He put his arms around his sons, who stared mesmerized by the babies.

“Children, may I present your brother and sister, Princess Daenys and Prince Daenor.”

“Daenys!” Saera smiled, “Like Daenys the Dreamer from the stories!”

“The same.”

“Maybe she’ll be a dreamer too like Aunt Helaena,” she said softly, petting her sleeping sister’s head. “She’d have dreams that tell her the future and she can tell us about them. I wish I was a dreamer.”

“Dreamers aren’t real,” Vaelen rolled his eyes. “They’re just charlatans who tell people lies to make money.”

“You’re thinking of mystics, my love,” Queen Alicent smiled. “Dreamers only see their prophecies in dreams.”

“It’s in the name,” Saera scolded, sticking her tongue out at him, and he returned the gesture.

“We picked out only one egg,” Baelon suddenly frowned. He pointed to the pot on the low table nearby. Even from a distance, he saw the heat coming off the dark metal. “Who gets the egg?”

“We’ll pick another when we go to the dragonpit, son,” Aegon comforted him. “It’ll stay in the pot for now.”

“Is Mother alright?” Daella, his eldest, asked. She looked more and more like you every day. She’d worn her hair in a braid today, and seeing her wearing her leather gloves, she’d been at the archery range a while ago. “I could hear her from outside in the training yard. I hope she is alright.” 

“Your mother’s labors were difficult,” he answered, “But, she’s resting now, sweetling.” He comforted her with a reassuring grin, which she returned. 

“Are we going to have a feast to celebrate the babies?” Saera asked him as he shepherded them from the cradles.

“I’m not sure,” Aegon answered, then telling the attending maid to bring wine. He could use a cup or two. “I don’t think The Crown can spare the expenses at the moment.”

“You have been keeping watch of the Crown’s gold, my son?” his mother asked in surprise.

“I told you I was,” he said, taking a seat between Saera and Baelon.

Saera, the prettiest ten-year-old anyone ever saw, had your hair which she’d managed to comb today. She leaned against him, and started playing with her newest doll, a princess figure with yellow hair and button eyes. On his other side, Baelon slumped back in his seat, the faint stink of dragons came off his hair and skin. He’d changed when he came back from riding, but did not wash up. Aegon expected as much. Distractedly, he checked the faint burn scars on Baelon’s neck and collarbone, and was glad to see they’d almost completely cleared up.

“With Lord Beesbury’s supervision and council,” he continued, “We managed to reinstate King Jaehaerys’s old taxes and revise them to fit the current economy. We both agree the battles in the Stepstones are becoming quite costly.” He spotted Vaelen coming back to the couches with a bag of what sounded like fragile items. “Vaelen, is that what I think it is?”

“No,” Vaelen said, pushing the sack behind him. “It’s…a gift….for the babies.”

“A gift for the babies?” he looked at his mother, who smiled with amusement. “May I see this gift you have for your brother and sister?”

“No,” when Aegon raised his eyebrows at the sharp answer, he coughed and said, “I mean, um, no. It’s not ready yet.”

“It’s the pots he’s been throwing off the tower,” Daella ratted him out, looking at him over her shoulder, “He read about that old man with the funny beard who discovered gravity, and he’s been testing which item hits the ground the fastest.”

“Vaelen, I’ve told you a hundred times, we do not throw things from windows.”

“I didn’t hurt anyone…that much…”

“Give me the sack.”

“Father!”

“Give me the sack, now.”

Vaelen frowned, slouching as he handed Aegon the sack, then took a seat beside his grandmother, who hugged him. “As I was saying, the battles in the Stepstones are costing The Crown thousands, and soon the people of Westeros will start to see the effects. I don’t know how much longer we can keep funding them.”

“It’s a point to bring up with the small council tomorrow,” she told him. 

“Is Uncle Aemond still in The Stepstones, Grandmother?” Daella asked her. “Mother and Aunt Helaena have not received any ravens from him.”

“He is still there, dove,” she said, petting her braid, “His last report says the Triarchy are being beaten back. He thinks with Vhagar now there, they’ll be able to end it soon. Then, he’ll come home to us and his new niece and nephew.”

Aegon had no doubt Aemond would reclaim The Stepstones in a day, and would be home. He supposed they can arrange something for the twins and Aemond’s return. He’d need to speak with the small council. His grandfather would no doubt support it, always happy to celebrate a new great-grandchild. He started talking to his mother about the smaller issues in the kingdom while the children played and sometimes joined in. His mind drifted to you and your difficult labor. He made a note to check on you later on, safe in the thought of a master and midwife watching over you. You always required lots of rest following a birth, and he knew bringing any serious matters would upset you. But, he couldn’t help feeling immense pride at you being his wife, and being the mother of his four- now six- children. 

In the meantime, he was content to spend the joyous day with his family. 

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