#wife and mama will have to suffer with her

[prickly-paprikash]

My favorite thing about every single Belmont in Netflix's Castlevania and Nocturne?

Every single initial appearance radiates sad, pathetic energy.

Trevor's bar fight scene was equal parts hilarious and disheartening. This is the Last Belmont? A legendary clan of Vampire Hunters, reduced to a drunken brawler who gets his nuts kicked in so many times?

Julia Belmont? Bodied by hot, gay Dragon Daddy Olrox while her son watches. He brings the direct Belmont line down to two, and traumatizes the kid so hard he has ED—Enchantment Dysfunction until he becomes an adult.

Richter? Yeah! Literally has to have his first true core memory be his mom be fucking owned by the sexiest god damn bloodsucker in history. Little bro's canon event was to watch his mama be crushed.

Juste? Sure his entrance is cool, but then we realize he's also suffering from ED, he sucks at this whole grandfather thing, his wife and bestie killed, and he could never even confront his own blood over the death of his fucking daughter.

I love the fact that every single Belmont makes the worst first impressions. Regardless of sex or gender or age. They just fucking suck when introduced.

#castlevania #castlevania nocturne #trevor belmont #julia belmont #richter belmont #juste belmont #lmao these loser keep getting owned i love them so much #they're my long line of sad blorbos #the clan of faceplanting during every new interaction #trevor and leon must've been cheering in heaven #while leon's wife plus sypha plus greta for good measure all watch in shame #like holy fuck guys #i love them your honor #paprikash ramblings

[artethyst]

~ Leaves In A Sky Full Of Stars ~

Eris Vanserra x Rhysand’s Sister! Reader/OC

“Lucien,” Eris growled, stalking over to his sobbing and heavily pregnant mate, his brother could only stand there awkwardly, in a fruitless attempt to soothe her.

“I swear I had no part in this!” The Emissary raised his hands in mock surrender as his sister in law continued to cry, unrelenting tears spilling down her pale cheeks.

Eris sighed, and whilst he wished she would stay inside like the Healers had recommended, he couldn’t deny her anything.

His only request was that his brother chaperone her should she feel restless, especially if he happened to be caught up in meetings he was unable to be in absence of.

Eris gently removed his overcoat and draped it over her shoulders, overly paranoid that she would catch a chill in her weakened state and ignored the way Lucien rolled his eyes at his brother’s worrying.

Lucien knew, beneath everything, the feared High Lord of Autumn was nothing but a softie. A mama’s boy who would do anything for his wife should she merely ask of it.

He was certain Eris would have surrendered even his own crown- the one he had spent centuries suffering for, if it meant she was happy.

“I can’t understand what she’s saying,” Lucien was almost just as panicked, knowing whatever was wrong he’d surely be blamed for it.

“Well, we both know how successful you are with the ladies,” Eris drawled and Lucien snarled at the reference to his own mate. “My work is done for the day, you may leave.”

Lucien bowed and sent one lasting gaze at the two of them, admittedly unnerved by her frantic state.

Until recently he had never seen her cry in the many years of knowing her, and whilst he would never admit it out loud, she had always been his favourite member of the Inner Circle.

“My love,” Eris soothed her by playing with her hair, she had found solace against his hard chest as she let out small gasps, taking comfort in his scent as he provided comforting waves of love down the bond. “Tell me, what is making you so upset, hmm?”

His words held no taunt as she sniffled, and he would never tell her that he found it rather endearing how she looked- so vulnerable with her cheeks aflame and violet eyes glossy.

“T-That hawk!” She whimpered, a shaky hand moving to point at the tree before them, and only he could’ve understood her choked out words as they were sobbed into him. “I-It pushed a p-poor baby b-bird out of i-its nest a-and-“ the next part was too horrific for her to say and she cried harder as Eris sighed, stroking the back of her neck.

Oh, for anyone to see her now.

The Crown Princess of the Night Court, feared magic wielder who helped slaughter many in the war and High Lady of Autumn, brought to tears- over a baby bird.

He supposed it had something to do with the little flame growing in her stomach.

“E-Eri I want you to kill it,” the soft tone of her voice betrayed its sentiment as he paused his ministrations for a moment, his eyebrow raised in amusement. “Make it p-pay for s-slaughtering that d-defenceless creature!”

He withheld a chuckle at the irony of her demand, pressing a light kiss to the crown of her head before adjusting their position so her back was flush against his front.

His chin grazed her scalp as he effortlessly flicked his hand, the unassuming hawk turning to ash in an instant as she watched in satisfaction.

No matter how silly, trivial or frivolous her demand, he would always comply.

“Better now my love?” He crooned as she became giddy, throwing her arms around his neck as he breathed in her scent- a sickly sweet smell of a youngling mixed with his own.

It brought a new possessiveness- pride within him to know she now carried his smell with her, a subtle hint of spice and ember imbedded in her natural twinge of jasmine.

He felt her heart soar as she tugged against his own through the bond, her soft cheek nuzzling against his rough hand which came to gently rub at her damp skin.

“I’ve missed you,” she mumbled, as he unwittingly melted at her words, thinking he might never get used to the love she had shown him- insisted that he deserved.

“You saw me this morning Bunny,” he teased as she pouted.

“That was hours ago!” She insisted guiding his calloused palm to her slightly protruding stomach. “I need you…We need you.”

He couldn’t help a genuine smile overtaking his wry smirk, feeling the life they created flicker beneath their joined hands.

“It seems our little ember agrees,” he mused and despite his biting fear of her upcoming labour, as everyone knew- Fae births were not only extremely rare, but horrifically dangerous, despite it all he was happy.

Despite what having a child would mean, a new threat to him he had no doubt people would take advantage of, he couldn’t help but feel at peace too.

At peace with himself. At peace with his mate and their unborn baby which would soon complete their little makeshift family.

#eris x reader #eris vanserra #eris acotar #eris vanserra x reader #eris x oc #eris vanserra x oc #acotar #acotar x reader #acotar x oc #eris vandaddy #acotar fic #fanfic

[exitpursuedbyavulcan]

What is Broken II (Aemond Targaryen x Pregnant Wife!Reader)

The war, the "Dance of the Dragons," as they have come to call it, is over. And yet, you are not celebrating. You have just learned that your husband, Prince Aemond, spent the last months of the war with another woman in his bed. Not only that, but his mistress is pregnant. Just like you...

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x fem!reader (third person, no use of Y/N), side Aemond Targaryen x Alys Rivers

Warnings: Angst, pregnancy and related symptoms, infidelity.

Author's Note: So, this did end up getting split in two. It just reached a natural stopping point and it made more sense to add a part IV instead of have an unnaturally long part II.

Taglist is done via reblogs

What is Broken

The next morning, she watched with red-rimmed eyes as the sun emerged over the horizon. As the brightness forced her to look away, she took a moment to thank whichever god had given her the foresight to send Aemond to sleep elsewhere. It had been another horrid night, and to explain it after all that had been said between them would have been far beyond miserable.

He would return soon, she was sure. With new honeyed words and gentle touches. With his beautiful pleading eye and perfect pouting mouth. With the softness of the elusive loving smile he reserved only for her.

Or did he? He had given Alys so many things she thought only they shared. Why wouldn’t he give the whore that smile as well?

The very thought had her stomach lurching again, but she raised herself to sit against the head of the bed and steeled herself against being sick. She took deep, controlled breaths, turned towards the eastern window to feel the fresh air coming off the bay, and set her mind free to wander.

Not entirely free, however. She did not let her thoughts go anywhere near her husband.

Instead, she thought of only nice things. The flowers that would soon bloom in the gardens with the coming of spring. The fresh fruits that would once more grace her table. Weather fine enough that she could ride through the Kingswood on her beloved steed, Litse, once more.

Eventually, the roiling faded, and she looked down to her stomach. “Kōdrȳsi rhinkpa jemo gaomua hae jālosa yno gaoman?” Is that as unpleasant for you as it is for me?

A soft thump near the top of her stomach felt very much like a noncommittal answer.

She laughed a little. “Iā jeme ñuha boteri raqāt daor?” Or do you enjoy making me suffer?

That question received no answer.

Just when she was about to say something more, she heard the door to her chambers creaking open and soft footsteps approaching. Of course, he would come to her so early; he had always slept so little. She clenched the sheets in her fists, preparing to face Aemond once more.

But it was not Aemond who walked through the door.

Instead of a single violet eye, she was met with a warm, brown, tear-filled pair that matched her own, and a helpless cry escaped her lips before desperate sobs overtook her. “Mama!”

Alicent ran to her side, taking her only remaining daughter in her arms and fighting back her tears. One hand rubbed soothing circles on her back while the other gently cupped her chin and lifted it so she could look into her daughter’s eyes. “Oh, my dearest girl…”

She buried her face in her mother’s rich auburn hair, savoring the comforting smell she’d known since infancy. There was no question that Alicent had been told about Aemond’s misdeeds – though whether he told her himself or she heard another way, she could not decide.

“I hate him,” she whispered weakly.

“No, you don’t,” Alicent countered immediately. She pulled away, took her hands, and softened her voice. “You are not capable of hating Aemond, my dear. Nor is he capable of hating you.”

“Then why did he do this to me?”

Alicent sighed, brow furrowing as she pondered her son’s actions. She did not have a good answer, for Aemond had always been the perfect son, save for the death of Lucerys Velaryon, and now, she supposed, this. It was behavior she had anticipated from Aegon, or had in the past. With her eldest son, she knew he acted out of his anger that he could not be the son his father wanted.

But with Aemond…

Aemond loved his wife. He was discontented with many things in his life – his position as the second son, his injury, and his father’s negligence – but never with her. His gaze had never strayed to any other woman, even before their engagement. Once they were betrothed, it was rare to find his gaze anywhere else but on her. He was so happy with her, always. What could have altered his devotion?

“I do not know,” Alicent finally answered. The words did little to soothe her weeping daughter. “Men… they can be wonderful when they truly love you. But even then, they have their weaknesses. Aemond was gone a very long time. Perhaps he was simply lonely?”

She shook her head and ripped her hands from her mother’s. “If he was lonely, he could have come back to me. He was supposed to return to me several times but never did.”

While Aemond was at Harrenhal, she, Aegon, and their grandsire had sent countless ravens asking for his return. Otto and Aegon asked so they could hear the news from the battlefield and try to adjust their plans accordingly. She asked because she missed and needed him. Badly.

He always sent some excuse. The battle was not yet over. Vhagar was too tired to fly. He did not want to leave his stronghold undefended when enemies lurked nearby. She had trusted each excuse like a fool.

“Did you know she’s carrying his child?” she asked, drawing the blankets further up her chest as if she could protect the life inside her from the horrible fact.

Alicent nodded. “I did. He told me.”

She frowned. At least Aemond had the decency to tell their mother himself. “What else did he tell you?”

“He was very upset, my dear.” She tried to suppress the kernel of joy that sparked at her mother’s words. “Not at you, of course, but at himself.”

“As he should be.”

“Yes, he should. But he loves you so much,” Alicent grimaced, setting a hand on her daughter’s belly. “And he loves your family so much. He is inconsolable at the thought that you may never forgive him.”

That kernel of joy went up in flames, and she looked at her mother with unfettered rage. “Why should I forgive him? He has betrayed me and has done nothing to regain my trust beyond his weak, selfish apologies.”

“Yes, but –”

“He lied to me again last night!” she cried. “He said it was only once. He looked me in the eye and lied! And he thought I would be stupid enough to believe him.”

Alicent sighed heavily as she looked away from her daughter. This wasn’t like Aemond – none of it was. Even after hearing his tearful explanation the night before, she was no closer to understanding it. Nor to finding a way to fix it.

“That was wrong of him,” she said at last. “All of it was – is. My dear, I do not know what to say or how to make it better. Your father, for all his faults, never strayed. I cannot begin to imagine the pain you are in. But – ”

“But what?” Her daughter glared at her with narrowed eyes, and her hand clenched into a fist by her side. “I cannot begin to imagine forgiving him, nor how I will ever look at him again without feeling this… this rage. Mother, I cannot be a wife to someone who hurt me so deeply, no matter his supposed remorse.”

She looked down at her stomach, then back to her mother. Though her eyes were red and wet, and her lip trembled, she wore a look of absolute determination. “I want to go. I don’t know where, but I don’t want to be here. I can’t bear to be with him.”

“Oh, my darling,” the queen pulled her daughter to her chest once more, not speaking again until she had calmed. “In any other circumstance, I would arrange for you to leave for Oldtown within the day. But it is not so simple.”

The princess stiffened in her mother’s arms.

“There are so few of us left, and we have already spent so much time apart. We cannot let ourselves become estranged.” Alicent bowed her forehead to rest against her daughter’s. “We cannot appear weak, especially not you and Aemond.”

She was frozen, but at that, she gathered enough strength to lift her eyes to look at her mother. “What do you mean, ‘especially’ not us?”

“There are no more heirs, darling, not of our line. But you,” her hand rested gently on her daughter’s cheek. “You are changing that. In mere weeks, your children – yours and Aemond’s – will become the new heirs to the throne.”

“They might not,” she argued weakly, her voice soft and breathless. “They may be daughters.”

Alicent smiled sadly, placing a hand gently at the top of the girl’s stomach. “This one has given you enough trouble that I would wager the Red Keep itself that he’s a boy.”

She put her hand over her mother’s as she tried and failed to smile. The Maester came to the same conclusion many weeks ago. Then, she had been thrilled at the possibility of giving Aemond an heir. Now, she wished desperately for daughters.

“Why do our heirs matter?” She asked. “Aegon will remarry and have his own soon enough.”

The question was met by a heavy, cloying silence.

“Mother?”

Alicent schooled her face into the careful neutrality that had served her so well as queen, though the tears shining in her dark eyes betrayed her heartbreak and grief. “I am afraid Aegon will not marry nor sire any more heirs. The Maesters… they predict he will leave us by the year’s end.”

Her heart stopped, then sank. “But that means Aemond…”

“Will be king soon,” Alicent confirmed. She again brushed her daughter’s hair behind her ears. “And you will be his queen.”

The implication hung over her like a black cloud: a queen could never leave her king.

-

Aemond knelt in the Royal Sept at the feet of the Father. He had not slept the night before, not after he told his mother what had happened and watched her cry harder than he had ever seen. He’d gone all the way back to his rooms – those he shared with his wife – before remembering the promise he had made.

He could not go back to her. To her arms. To his home.

So, he ended up in the Sept. He didn’t remember walking there, leaving the Holdfast and crossing the upper bailey. He just knew he’d been kneeling there long before the sun crested the horizon. He’d prayed and wept and begged the gods to either reveal to him a path to redemption or strike him down and spare him further torment.

The gods ignored him. He could not blame them for it.

His lamenting was halted by the sound of the carved stone doors opening, followed by a strangle rattling sound Aemond could not identify. He turned and saw his brother and king for the first time in months.

A servant stood behind Aegon to push the wheeled chair in which the kind sat with a blanket over his lap to conceal his crooked, atrophied legs, but was dismissed with a wave of a red, scarred hand. Aegon’s injuries after Rook’s Rest had been so horrific even Aemond struggled to look at him. The scars he now bore were hardly better. The king looked twisted, broken, and weak. It was a miracle little Jaehaera could look at her father without collapsing in terror.

As Aegon wheeled himself down the Sept aisle, Aemond steeled himself against the horrible expression on his brother’s face: empathy, disappointment, and rage.

In their youth, even Aegon had been protective of their youngest sister, to the point that he restrained himself from making too many lewd comments in her presence. And after years of Aemond calling him depraved, perverted, and whorish, he would, of course, delight in the irony that his little brother was just as weak as him.

“I wouldn’t have believed it,” Aegon drawled. His voice was as damaged as his body, weak and rasping. “But then I saw our mother. I always thought I was the only one that could make her look like that. So sad and weepy and disappointed.”

Aemond reminded himself that Aegon was finally the uncontested king and that throttling the life from him was now more than ever considered treason. “I hardly think you are qualified to pass judgment on me,” he growled.

“No,” Aegon smirked as he brought his chair to a stop at Aemond’s side. “But I think I am well qualified to gloat, don’t you?”

Suppressing his sneer, Aemond turned to face his brother. “Are you? How many unsuitable women have you bedded? How many bastards have you sired?” He scoffed, but his threadbare feeling of righteousness immediately gave under the lead weight of his desperation. “Why does my wife abhor me when I make this one mistake when Helaena never cared when you did the same over and over again?”

“Because Helaena never loved me, Aemond.” For the first time in their lives, Aegon was the calmer and more rational of the brothers. “She cared for me as a sister, but she never loved me as her husband. Not like our haedus loves you.”

“I love her, too.” Aemond’s face fell into utter regret and despair. “So much.”

“Yet you still broke her heart.”

Aemond turned back to the statue of the Father, bowing his head. “I did not mean to. I didn’t mean to hurt her – I would never intend to hurt her.”

“I know,” Aegon angled his chair and slumped slightly. “But you did. Over and over. I saw it. Not just with your adultery, but every time you did not come home when she asked. Whenever you took Vhagar into battle without warning her – and us. And each day you weren’t here when those babes put her through the seven hells with – ”

Aemond’s heart stopped, and his entire world with it.

“‘Babes?’”

Aegon’s eyes grew wide. “I didn’t say that.”

The same blatant liar he’d been for years.

“You did,” Aemond insisted, his rage at himself now turning on his king, his mother, and everyone else who had kept this secret from him – other than his ābrazȳrītsos. He could still never be angry with her. “Why did you say that?”

After a moment of frustrated silence, Aegon finally answered. “Because the Maesters have determined that your wife is carrying twins. Something you would know if you had come home when we asked.”

“I was fighting your war,” Aemond growled, rising to his feet so his brother could no longer look down at him, “to defend your throne. It was not always possible for me to return.”

“You mean it was ‘never’ possible, right?” In that moment, Aegon truly seemed a king – mature and wise for the first time Aemond had ever seen. He almost resembled their father, as he had been on the few occasions they saw him sit the throne. “You never returned. Not for your duties, and not for your wife.”

“I…”

“If you’d come home immediately after you first fucked whoever-she-is, or any other time we summoned you, perhaps things would be better. But you didn’t, and now you must deal with the consequences of your own stupid mistakes. Again.”

Aemond flinched at the harsh words but could not deny their veracity. The death of Lucerys Velaryon had sparked a war that nearly tore House Targaryen and the realm apart. Now this… this could tear his marriage apart.

His family could be broken beyond repair before their child – their children – were ever born.

A scar-mottled hand grabbed his arm, pulling him away from his despair. “I apologize. I did not come here to make you feel worse than I am sure you already do.”

“Why did you come, then?” Aemond stared at the mangled hand that held him still. He could not bear to look in his brother’s eyes.

Aegon sighed. “I am sending you back to Harrenhal.”

“No.” Aemond ripped his arm away.

“Brother, the peace talks…”

“I said no.” He clenched his fists.

Aegon slammed his hand down on the arm of his chair, the sound echoing through the Sept. “I am your king, and I am giving you an order! You do not get to say ‘no.’”

Aemond froze, his rage roiling, desperate to spill over. But Aegon was his king, and other than his ābrazȳrītsos, his duty to the throne and his family was the thing most dear to him. So, he remained still and silent as he listened without protest.

“Cregan Stark and his army are due to arrive at Harrenhal in mere days,” Aegon explained. “I am in no condition to travel so far, and it would insult Stark and the others who were loyal to Rhaenyra to ask them to travel even further. So, as you are still Prince Regent, you will return to the Riverlands and act as my proxy in the negotiations.”

Absorbed by all that had happened since he’d arrived in King’s Landing, Aemond had entirely forgotten that particular duty. He’d known he had to attend before he left, but how could he go now? What would his wife think if he went back to Harrenhal – where Alys remained – so soon?

“You will take our sister with you.”

“I cannot,” the weak, whispered words escaped him without thought, “I cannot do that to her. You cannot do that to her.”

Somehow, the idea of bringing her with him to Harrenhal was worse than returning there himself. What would happen if she saw Alys? Spoke to her? She was already so hurt, and he did not want her to break entirely. He could not stand it. He would not allow it.

“Aegon, please,” he begged, dignity cast aside in favor of protecting his ābrazȳrītsos. “Do not make her go.”

The king straightened in his chair. “I wish I did not have to. She has already endured so much, and I have no desire to cause her more pain. But I have no other option.”

“Why? What could be more important than keeping her safe?”

Aegon’s face was drawn and filled with regret and grief. “Ensuring the realm sees you as a strong king when I am gone.”

The silence that followed was heavier than the Red Keep itself, and Aemond’s heart grew heavier still when he realized what his brother meant.

“You do not have much time left, do you?”

“Likely only a few months, according to the Maesters. But I’ll be gone by year’s end,” Aegon answered, trying and failing to summon a wry smile. “It’s almost not worth it to un-name you Prince Regent, when the crown will soon be yours once more.”

Silence fell once more.

Aemond wanted to argue. Against going to Harrenhal. Against bringing her with him. Against being king. For if he was king…

“She will be bound to me forever,” he said, not realizing he was saying it aloud, “in a way far stronger than just our shared blood or marriage. She will never be able to leave me.”

Aegon gripped the arm of his chair tighter. “Is that what you want?”

“I…” Yes. No. Aemond fumbled for his words, running a hand down his face as his thoughts raced through his mind like a thousand whirling dragons. “I want her to stay with me, but not at the cost of her happiness.”

Aegon considered the answer, the picture of a king passing judgment. At last, he nodded once. “Even if she decides she hates you, she will not leave. Her sense of duty is nearly as strong as yours, and she would never wish to raise the babes without their father.” He gestured to himself, then Aemond. “She knows well what becomes of children with no true father.”

There came a knock on the Sept door before Aemond could say anything more

Aegon sighed. “It is time for you to leave, I’m afraid. The wheelhouse is waiting.”

“What about – ”

Aegon waved a hand. “Mother went to your rooms this morning to explain the situation to her and help her prepare for the journey.”

“Can we not simply fly?” Aemond did not want for her to have to be stuck with him for the entire journey. The gods forbid that they should be made to share a tent or room at a roadside inn. Though doing so would delight him. He’d missed her so much that he would gladly take any moment he could with her, even when she was so angry with him.

Because she would be angry with him, and spending time with him would do nothing but make her miserable. Her happiness was more important than his. Always.

His brother scoffed as he began wheeling down the aisle toward the door. “Not in her condition.”

Of course. Aemond felt a fool for not realizing it himself. He’d flown Vhagar with Alys, but… she was not as far along as his wife, nor as delicate. A carriage it must be.

He should never have flown with Alys. Not for her sake or that of her child, but because flying atop Vhagar was something he did with his ābrazȳrītsos. It was something sacred they shared, and he had willfully desecrated it.

Gods, he had to get Alys out of his head. He could never become the husband his wife deserved when the witch still haunted his every thought.

Aegon stopped at the threshold of the Sept, again reaching out to grab Aemond’s arm. His eyes glinted with violent promise as he locked eyes with his brother. “If you do anything to hurt her again, intentional or not, I will exile you to Essos, and you will never see her again. I will declare you dead and marry her myself to ensure her children inherit the throne.”

“She deserves a better husband than you,” Aemond spat. It would break him never to see her or their children. But he knew he would deserve it.

The king smiled wickedly, still only a shadow of his former self. “She deserves better than the both of us, brother.”

Aemond bit back his retort and inclined his head to his king as he had at the coronation. “I swear on my life, I will never hurt her again.”

-

Aemond was waiting for her in the courtyard when she finally left the castle, well bundled in a thick, fur-lined cloak. The weather had turned, a final storm of the departing winter. Now, the sky reflected her mood – gray and somber.

At least the explosiveness of her anger had calmed, and she was relatively sure she wouldn’t strangle Aemond along the journey. But to go to Harrenhal with him, to be in the very place where he had betrayed her, to face the woman who carried her husband’s bastard …

She could be brave. She had to be brave. This was her duty, and her duty was sacred.

Aemond had taught her that.

She did not acknowledge him as she kissed her mother and brother farewell, nor as she walked to the steps set at the wheelhouse door.

But then he held out his hand to help her in.

Reluctantly, she took it. The brief touch was marginally more tolerable than the possibility of her stumbling and him having to catch her by the arm or, gods forbid, her waist. That would be far too much of a touch, and she was not sure she was ready for it – if she would ever be ready for it.

He stepped in just behind her, the two of them standing there for a moment, wondering where to sit. In the past, they’d always sat next to each other at the rear of the wheelhouse, with her head on his shoulder and his arm around her waist. But now, the thought of doing so again made her nauseous. So, she turned to the seat in the front.

“Wait,” Aemond grabbed her shoulder, then immediately released it when he saw her wince. He cleared his throat, then motioned to the opposite seat with his hand. “Please, sit here. I don’t want you getting sick riding backward.”

She looked from the seat to his wary smile. Surely he didn’t expect her to still sit with him, did he?

“I’ll sit on the other side,” he added after a prolonged moment of silence.

“Thank you,” she whispered with a nod of her head. But when she began walking to the rear seat, Aemond again stopped her.

“Before you sit, let me…” he trailed off, stepping to the front seat and gathering most of the pillows and cushions that lay atop it into his arms. Then, he deposited them on the other side. He spent several minutes arranging them until they were finally to his liking. “There.”

He reached out his hand again to help her sit. This time, she did not take it. She was more than capable of sitting down on her own, and she was well aware that Aemond knew that, too. He was merely trying to touch her again, and that, she would not allow.

Once she sat, Aemond began fussing again. “Please stop,” she sighed when he started crossing the wheelhouse to fetch even more pillows. “You don’t need to do this.”

“I do need to do this,” he insisted. She could have sworn his eye shone before he turned back to the pillows and blankets. “I want you to be comfortable. You deserve it.”

“A few pillows will not make me forgive you.” For a moment, as Aemond’s shoulders tightened, she almost regretted the words. She had spoken in haste and with cruelty. It was not something she was accustomed to. Somehow, his misdeeds were turning her into a mean and petty woman.

She was just about to apologize when Aemond spoke again, his voice more timid than it had been. “I know that, but I want to do it anyway. I want to show you how much I love you. Please.”

He looked at her pleadingly, desperately. It had been many years since he looked at her like that. When she was a girl, and she fell gravely ill, he stayed by her bedside against the instructions of the Maesters, holding her hand and begging her not to die. She had to look away from him to avoid falling into that memory.

“I am perfectly comfortable,” she said. “So you needn’t do anything more.”

With a sigh, Aemond threw the pillows in his arms carelessly on his seat, except for one – a small round cushion with the Targaryen three-headed dragon embroidered upon it. “Just this one more, please.”

She looked at it suspiciously, some instinct in the back of her mind telling her not to allow it. But his voice was so weak, so desperate. And if it could help her be more comfortable on the long journey, what harm would it do? She nodded. “Very well.”

Aemond beamed and crossed the wheelhouse. With the pillow in hand, he knelt in front of her and brought a hand to hover over her belly. Before he made contact, he looked up to her, a hopeful smile still on his lips.

But that smile was no longer reassuring to her. Instead, it brought on a wave of mistrust and fear. “What are you doing?”

Finally, he laid his hand on her. “I…” His cheeks flushed, and he suddenly could not meet her eye. “This is to cradle your belly while we ride so you are not rattled around so much.”

Her hand flew out and latched onto his wrist, her hold so hard the skin around her hand quickly grew red. She did not want to see him, so she narrowed her eyes until her coming tears blurred her vision. It took several tries for her to speak through her rapid breathing. “Did Alys teach you that, too?”

Aemond looked as if she had just driven a dagger through his heart. “She did, but –”

“I told you never to do that!” She ripped the pillow from his hands and threw it across the wheelhouse with all her strength.

He stayed kneeling, one hand braced on her seat. He had not flinched, only closed his eyes. “Wifey, if it makes you comfortable, if it helps you, then what does it matter how I learned it?”

“Because…” She furiously wiped her tears away, steadfastly looking away from him. “I don’t want you to think about her when you’re touching me.”

“I promise I am not thinking of her,” he insisted. “I could never think of her when I have with me.”

“No, only when I’m hundreds of miles away.”

He closed his eyes and drew in a shaky breath, his hand never leaving her belly. “How long have you known?” Aemond rasped out. “That we are to have two babes?”

Her eyes widened in surprise at the words. How had he known? Who had told him? She did not look at him, did not want him to see the blush of shame that came over her. If either of them should be ashamed, it was him. What he did was far worse than keeping a secret, even one as important as this.

“It was meant to be a surprise,” she whispered. “But you did not come back when you were meant to – you were supposed to return and give Aegon a report on the war. You didn’t.”

Aemond bowed his head, hiding his cheeks – likely just as flushed as hers. He sniffed, as he often did when upset, and shook his head. “If I had known – ”

“It wouldn’t have mattered,” she snapped back. “Your… she was already pregnant by then, wasn’t she?”

For a moment, Aemond looked up at her in pleading before dropping his head again. “Yes,” his voice was thin and utterly defeated, “she was.” He reached to adjust the pillow by her side but decided against it. Then, he returned to the seat across from her, looking at her once before bowing his head and pounding on the roof twice.

Reins snapped, and the wheelhouse lurched forward.

-

The first hours in the wheelhouse passed in silence. Aemond hardly moved, staring at his clasped hands. She thought she felt his eyes on her several times, but whenever she looked at him, he did not look back.

She watched the world pass her by through the windows. She’d never gone north of King’s Landing before, other than a few short flights on Vhagar with Aemond. Then, she was too high to see the little differences, mile by mile. The trees changed and became sparser, as did the shrubs and flowers. The air felt different, as did the ground beneath the wheelhouse, which became softer and less turbulent the farther they went. Even the smell of the air changed. The slight brine she was so used to faded, turning into something green and damp. It was not an unpleasant change.

What was unpleasant was trying to fall asleep within the mountain of pillows and cushions Aemond had made for her. Once, she would have loved the plushness and softness of it. But with the babes in her belly, she had come to prefer more firmness.

She would have moved the pillows herself had she been able to. But between the sheer mass of cushions and her current size, maneuvering enough to do so was impossible. Grand Maester Orwyle had said even two months away from the birth, she was already larger than most mothers just before it. Of course, most mothers only had one babe to carry, not two. So, she was left with only wiggling around as much as she could to try and find a better position.

She didn’t.

With a huff, she looked at Aemond, hoping to silently glare at him and curse him for the stuffed throne he’d made for her. But this time, when she looked at him, he was looking back.

He wore an expression of concern, like he’d been watching her struggle for some time. His eye was wide, and his lips pinched together. She knew that look, and found herself now hating it. It meant he wanted to help, to understand what was wrong.

“I cannot get comfortable,” she explained, not that he deserved an explanation.

A spark of hope entered Aemond’s eye. “Do you…” he licked his lips. “I can hold you, if you’d like.”

“No!” She felt a slight pang of guilt at the hurt painted on his face at her rejection. He did not deserve her guilt, she reminded herself. “No, I’ll be fine.”

Aemond grimaced as if he could sense the lie. He probably could, for how well he knew her. “Are you sure? I can… I can just hold you. It won’t mean anything, I promise.”

Yes, yes, yes, her body seemed to scream. She had always found comfort in his arms, always slept best with him pressed against her. And him holding her would mean he would have to discard many of the ridiculous pillows. If she accepted, she could likely be asleep in moments.

But her heart… her heart would break to be held by him. She wouldn’t be able to stop thinking about if he had held Alys in this same way. If the whore had slept with her head resting on Aemond’s shoulders. If she had kissed his neck as she fell asleep, just as she had loved to do.

She would never be able to stop thinking about Alys. Every time Aemond looked at her, touched her, spoke to her. Alys would be a ghost that would haunt her forever.

A memory of the first time Aemond had taken her to the Dragonpit came to her.

He’d told her she couldn’t come with him, but relented the moment she started crying and dragged her into the carriage with him, Aegon, and Rhaenyra’s eldest sons. Jacaerys was the only one who argued against her accompanying them. He stopped complaining after Aemond shot him a threatening glare and declared that she was braver and more capable than he would ever be. But when they arrived at the Dragonpit, and Sunfyre was led up from the dens, she’d cowered behind Aemond. The sweet little creature - perhaps the size of one of the king’s hounds - she had once watched flit around Aegon wherever he went had somehow quickly turned into a beast larger than anything she’d ever seen, baring sharp teeth the size of her dinner knives. Aegon kneeled in front of her and nudged her cheek with his thumb. “Don’t worry, haedus. He won’t hurt you, I promise.” She still screamed when Aegon stepped within reach of those fangs. And again, when Aemond pulled her from behind his back so she could not hide from the dragon. “Do not be afraid, haedus. Sunfyre is only a dragon, as are you. The blood of the dragon runs true in your veins,” he said as she buried her face in her chest. Something about the words seemed to make Jace angry, but she didn’t know why. “I can’t help it, lēkia,” she whined. “He’s scaring me.” Aemond huffed slightly, petting her head tenderly. “You are afraid because you know very little about dragons. What we do not know can be terrifying.” He turned her to face Sunfyre, who was now perfectly docile while being saddled by Aegon. She squirmed to escape his grasp. “If you watch and listen to the Dragonkeepers, you will learn. The more you learn, the less afraid you will be.”

“Why did you do it?” she asked suddenly.

“My love?” Aemond looked at her as if she’d sprouted horns. But when she held his stare, he whispered gently, “You don’t want to know. Not really.”

“I do,” she declared.Though his answer may shatter her heart completely, she had to know. His childhood voice echoed in her head. ‘The more you learn, the less afraid you will be.’

She swore she could see him remember the same memory she had. His eye darted around the wheelhouse anxiously. “It is not a good reason.”

“Unless she held you at sword point each time, there is not a reason I would call ‘good.’” She hoped it was something like that, that he hadn’t been given the choice to refuse her. It would make everything better, almost fine. But if it had been something like that, he would have already told her.

Aemond was silent for a long while. Long enough for the sun to reach its peak and begin its descent.

“I’d seen only one battle before I arrived at Harrenhal – Rook’s Rest,” he began. “In that battle, one dragon and rider were killed, and Aegon and Sunfyre were permanently wounded.”

“I know,” she whispered. She’d been there when Aemond had brought Aegon, broken, bloody, and burnt, back to the castle. She’d seen what happened to him. Aemond held her hair back as she was sick in the corridor outside the Grand Maester’s rooms.

Aemond nodded. “I was so afraid, ābrazȳrītsos, of what I would see when I truly went to war. And it was just as terrible as I’d feared. Even worse than what happened to Aegon, sometimes.” He waited to continue until she had unscrunched her eyes as she fought away another wave of nausea. “Every time I was scared, raqiarzītsos... And alone. She offered an escape. A chance to not think about the war, for at least a little while.”

“And to not think about me.”

He blanched, moving to stand, but thought better of it and sat back in his seat. “My love, I never wanted to stop thinking about you. I promise. I thought about you every moment of every day. You are what gave me the strength to ride to battle again and again – knowing that once it was all over, I’d be able to return to you.”

She glared at him. “So, you thought about me while you were fucking her?”

“Gods, no!” This time, he did rise, crossing the wheelhouse to fall at her feet. “I… I didn’t think about anything when I was with her. Not about you, or the war, or even her. It was the only way I could empty my mind of all the things that tormented me.”

“… I tormented you?” The idea that she could have done anything to make him want to forget her brought tears to her eyes.

“No. Never.” He tried to reach for her to cup her cheek, but she shrank away from him. “Don’t ever think that you could. What tormented me was that I was so far from you – that I could not be there for you. And the babes.”

He could have been, she knew. He should have been. “You had many opportunities to return. Why didn’t you?” Her voice caught in the back of her throat as a sob tried to escape. “Were you too ashamed of what you’d done?”

“I was and am ashamed,” he declared, and she believed him, “but that is not why I remained at Harrenhal. I knew that if I saw you again, I would never return to the battlefield. It was hard enough to leave you the first time. I could not endure it again.”

There was silence.

She leaned back towards him and allowed him to finally lay his hand across her cheek – an unconscious attempt to soften the blow of her next question. “Is it true that you spared her only because you lusted for her? That you took her to your bed in your first week at that awful place?”

Aemond sobbed, one horrible, wretched sob. His hand dropped, and he lowered his head into her lap, clutching at her dress like a child. The urge to comfort him tingled in her veins, to pet his hair and murmur soft words to him, to gently remove his eyepatch and assure him that all was well.

She did not move an inch.

At last, Aemond lifted his head. The bottom of his eyepatch was just askew enough to allow the tears from his ruined eye to escape. “I spared her because she claimed to be a witch – a seer. The claim was backed by several residents of the keep who had no reason to lie. She offered to lend me her aid in the war, to share her visions with me so I could be prepared when I led my men to battle. I agreed. I wanted to avoid the kind of slaughter I saw at Rook’s Rest. To prevent anyone from going through what happened to our brother. Then…

“I did lie with her in the first week,” he turned away as though he couldn’t say the words while facing her. “On the sixth day. We were to advance on Darry the next morning, to… it doesn’t matter why, just that it was the first time I would lead men to victory of their deaths. I asked Alys to share her vision of what would occur, and she did. She saw how fearful I was and told me that to win the battle, I must go into it without fear. I tried to calm myself, but I couldn’t.”

He swallowed thickly, still avoiding her gaze, and dropped his hand. “Then she offered her… further aid. I will not wound you by detailing what we did. But I will assure you that I did resist.” He licked his lips. “At least at first.”

A small comfort, she supposed.

“When I was with her, all my worries faded to nothing. I thought it was perhaps a spell she put on me, but it was not. My body just needed to find that satisfaction and release. I was hoping it was a spell. For that would mean I did not truly betray you.”

He faced her again. She did not know whether it comforted or saddened her to look into his wet, despairing eye. “But I did. And I continued to do so every time my fear threatened to overwhelm me. Which was, regrettably, often.

“I was weak,” he said with a mirthless laugh, “I was so weak. I should have been braver – better. I should have been the husband you deserve. I will spend every day of my life regretting it and trying to right what I have done wrong. I swear it.” He nodded as if to affirm the oath, yet it brought her no assurance. “I am so sorry, my love.”

He said nothing else.

She still had so many questions, wanted to know so much more. Her fears had barely been quelled. But it was something. And at the very least, the emotions Aemond’s story subjected her to had exhausted her. Enough that she knew she could close her eyes and be asleep within a heartbeat.

“Thank you. For telling me,” she whispered as she moved back in her seat, away from him. “I would like to rest now.”

Aemond bowed his head and retreated to his seat without asking again if he could hold her.

Her traitorous heart almost wished he had.

-

It was raining when she woke. The weather had apparently followed them north. She leaned closer to the window, wanting the wet air to cool her, but stopped when she noticed the wheelhouse wasn’t moving.

“Ser Marston and one of the porters are arranging rooms,” Aemond said softly. She did not reply, nor look at him. A glance out the window informed her that they were in some village she didn’t know, outside a relatively large building whose worn sign, cut in the shape of a stone wall, read simply ‘Inn.’

That question answered, she still didn’t look at Aemond. She knew he’d likely been watching her since they’d arrived… wherever they were. Perhaps longer. Judging by the dusk settling over the horizon, she’d been sleeping quite a while. And yet she hadn’t woken. She wondered if she should start sleeping during the day instead of at night.

“Mother said…” Aemond halted, likely waiting for her to look at him. She didn’t. “We will be sharing a room.”

She whipped her head around to face him, ignoring the slight dizziness that came with the motion. “No.”

Aemond sighed. “Raqiarzītsos, if the innkeeper notices we are apart, he may talk about it. Rumors will start.”

“Can’t we just pay him to remain silent? That’s what Mother did to prevent rumors from spreading about Aegon.”

“And yet rumors spread nevertheless,” his voice was soft and firm, like a parent explaining something to their child. The thought sickened her.

She wanted to say that those rumors spread because their mother could not pay off every woman Aegon had his way with – there had been too many to even know who they all were. But it had been their mother herself who told her that this would happen, that she would have to somehow stomach being in the same room as Aemond at night. That the consequences of not doing so would be worse than those that would come from him being there.

“You will not sleep in the bed,” she ordered, finally facing her husband, “you will sleep on whatever chair or couch is in the room or the floor if there is none.”

Aemond sucked his bottom lip into his mouth. “Very well.”

Curious, she’d expected more of a fight. For him to insist that a servant could see the half-empty bed and raise questions. For him to try and ply her into letting him into the bed with promises of holding her and keeping her warm. For him to try something. But he didn’t.

“Good.”

-

It was not a very nice room.

The paint was chipping off the walls, and the floorboards creaked. The bed linens were faded, the fur blankets patchy. The small table on one side leaned to one side, and an unshaped piece of wood held the couch by the fire level.

At least there was a couch, Aemond supposed. And as it was near the fire, he would not have to sleep in the cold to avoid depriving his wife of blankets.

She crossed the room to the bed, sitting on its edge and looking out the window again. After he’d agreed that he would not try and convince her to let him join her in the bed, she’d spent the rest of their time waiting in the carriage looking out one window, then crossing to the other side of the wheelhouse just before they were called to their room.

Even now, he could see her eyes flitting from one building to another, following the villagers as they milled about and fixating on the livestock that wandered the streets – cows, donkeys, sheep, even a small group of piglets.

He thought it was a distraction at first. But when she continued to watch the inconsequential town for far longer than he ever would, even in a new town, he realized it was something more. When she quirked her head slightly to the right and the ghost of a smile flitted over her lips, he knew what it was.

This was the first village she’d ever been in.

She was born in King’s Landing, and other than their trip to Driftmark for Lady Laena’s funeral… she’d never left the city.

Something in Aemond’s heart cracked. He should have done something, taken her on adventures. He should have brought her on Vhagar and flown her wherever her heart desired.

But he hadn’t. He’d left her in King’s Landing, in the Red Keep. In a cage.

But now… her first trip away from the capital was one she didn’t want to be on. It wasn’t a happy occasion. And their destination was likely the place of her worst nightmares.

He should never have let Aegon order him to bring her to Harrenhal.

Aemond opened his mouth to apologize to her again but said nothing. She had already been forced to be stuck in a wheelhouse with him for most of the day. The kindest thing he could do would be to let her alone for as long as he could.

So, he went towards the door, turning back over his shoulder to look at her for a moment. She was still watching the village. It made him smile a bit. “I’m going to get supper. I’ll be back in a short while.”

She did not say anything back. She only lifted a hand to rest on the window.

-

She’d hardly noticed that Aemond had left. When he told her where he was going, she had just seen a small group of children playing in the muddy road. One of the little girls had spotted her watching from the window and shouted something to her friends. Soon, all the children were staring at her. She lifted a hand to the window to wave at them.

Then, she heard the door closing, and when she turned to look, Aemond was gone.

When she looked back to the children, they had already run off. Her hand drifted to her abdomen. “Nyke urnēbagon jemī tymāt umban daor.” I cannot wait to watch you play.

Before Aemond left for Harrenhal, he had taken her back to the nursery where they’d been raised. The furniture had been covered, as neither Jaehaera nor Rhaenyra’s son Aegon were inclined toward play. Not after what they went through. So, both had moved to their own rooms when they returned to the keep.

But the nursery would not be empty for long.

Aemond had pulled away the sheet covering the toy chest and knelt before it, examining each toy as though it were a priceless jewel. He told stories about them, recalling how they had played with them, and made guesses about which ones their child would prefer and what their choices would foretell about them.

He rediscovered the two wooden dragons they had once painted and named for themselves – Kēlītsos and Balerion. There were too many tales of those little dragons to retell them all, so he told only the one where they imagined the dragons had come alive and had flown them to the ruins of Old Valyria. Aemond would slay whatever beasts had wounded Balerion and killed their great-aunt, Aerea. Then, they would reclaim their ancestral homeland.

He’d kissed her belly then, calling the babe inside the “heir of Old Valyria.”

Now, they were the heir – heirs – to something else entirely.

To a broken family.

To a throne soaked in the blood of their kin.

To the sins of their father.

For a moment, she wished they could simply be like those children, playing without a care.

But they never would be.

They would still be children. They would still play and laugh. They would be mischievous and sneak sweets from the kitchens or stay awake long past the time they were sent to bed. They would still cry for their parents when they scraped a knee or had a nightmare.

But they would also be heirs. They would be taught by the finest scholars in the world how to bear the weight of their responsibilities. They would be trained by mighty warriors on how to defend themselves from the enemies they would have since birth. They would always know that their life was never wholly theirs.

Now, they would also always know that their father had betrayed their mother. She knew that no matter how hard she tried to prevent it, somehow, they would learn of Aemond’s mistress – the mother of their bastard half-sibling.

Part of her hated that child, the small thing that was not even fully formed and yet was the manifestation of all her pain.

Part of her, perhaps a larger part, pitied it.

After all, it was a bastard. The world had never been kind to bastards. After the role bastards had played in the war, she could not imagine it would grow any kinder.

What would the life of the bastard be like? Would it play the same games as her children? Would it have the same favorite toys, or foods, or colors?

While its trueborn siblings were learning to rule the realm and ride dragons, what would it do? Perhaps it would be a servant, like its mother, or become a laborer of some kind.

Would it know who its father was? Would it know the blood of the dragon ran through its veins? Would it ache for a bond with a dragon, as Aemond had? Would it spend its life feeling incomplete, yet never know why?

As she caught sight of the tears shining on her cheeks in her reflection off the window, she decided she did not hate the child. It was not at fault for the sins of its mother, or its father.

She said a brief prayer for it – for its health and happiness. Then one for her own children.

When Aemond came back through the door, carrying a tray laden with steaming food, she wiped her tears away and looked only once more out the window.

The children had gone home.

“Are you hungry, ābrazȳrītsos?” Aemond asked.

No, she wasn’t. But she knew she must eat regardless, for the sake of the babes. So, she crossed the room and sat at the small table.

She did not speak as Aemond served her the meal – fresh, steaming bread, warm stew, and a pot of tea. He did not try and get her to speak. He simply ate his food, watching her carefully.

He faded into the background as her thoughts continued to wander to that poor little child growing in Alys’ womb.

Would it have silver hair? Purple eyes? Or would it inherit its mother’s coloring, whatever it was?

She did not know what Alys looked like. She knew so little about the woman who had shared in Aemond’s sin.

Was she beautiful? Was she intelligent? Was she kind?

It was hard to imagine that she would be kind. That any woman who would lie with a married man would be kind. After all, she was called a witch. Was there such a thing as a kind witch?

Was there even such a thing as a witch?

Aemond said that he spared Alys because she could foretell the future. That the reason he’d first brought her into his bed was because she told him he needed to be calm for the battle ahead if he wished to prevail.

Prevail he did.

Were the visions real, then? Had Aemond only returned from that first battle, the second, the last, because of what Alys had told him?

If Alys were to thank for Aemond surviving the war, should she not be grateful for it? But how could she be grateful for something that had so thoroughly broken her heart?

How was she supposed to feel? How was she supposed to know what to feel? What to do?

“I want to meet her,” she said suddenly. Even her whisper sounded like an echoing shout after so long a silence.

Aemond stared at her. Fear and regret and anger in his gaze. His mouth hung open, and his skin had gone deathly pale.

“Alys,” she clarified. “I want to meet her.”

“My love, please. You don’t.” His voice quavered like a rose in a thunderstorm. “I don’t want you to, it won’t – ”

“I have questions for her. I will ask them.” Tears fell down Aemond’s cheeks, but he did not argue. It almost made her smile. “You may be there if you wish. But I will meet her.”

Aemond nodded. “If that is what you truly want.”

She felt no fear or hesitation. “It is.”

-

After she finished her meal, her exhaustion finally settled upon her. It had only been a day since Aemond returned to the Red Keep. Only a day since both the war and her world ended.

She just wanted to sleep. In that moment, it was all she wanted.

She had Aemond turn away as she undressed and donned her nightgown. He obeyed, staring into the fire and never once looking back until she was beneath the rough-spun blankets on the bed and gave him permission.

He only removed his leather doublet and his boots before settling onto the couch by the fire, its high back blocking them from each other’s view.

The fire crackled.

“Good night, ābrazȳrītsos,” Aemond said. “Sleep well. I love you.”

She did not reply.

She so badly wanted to sleep. But it seemed both her body and the babes in her belly wanted otherwise. No matter how she lay, she could not find comfort. No matter what she thought of, her mind would not calm.

At least she took comfort in that her restlessness was likely preventing Aemond from finding sleep as well.

When she heard his voice again, she stiffened, preparing herself to argue with him again. But Aemond did not speak.

He sang.

“Bantis ropatas Night has fallen

Yn zūgagon daor But do not fear

Sȳndror ilos daor There is no darkness

Kesrio syt drakarys vamiot ilzai. For dragonfire is near.”

It was a lullaby. One he had discovered in an Old Valyrian children’s book he found in the back of the Red Keep’s library. He had sung it to her when she was still in her crib so he could practice their ancestral language.

He stopped singing for some time when his voice settled, adjusting to the new, lower pitch. But when he began again, it was even more beautiful than before. Quiet and soft, but still beautiful.

“Yn ozelēnagon daor And shiver not

Vasīr vēzos hembistas Though the sun has gone

Drakarys kesīr ilzai Dragonfire is here

Aōhi dijaves rāelagon. To keep you warm.”

When was the last time he sang to her? Obviously not in the past six months, but when?

“Aōhi bartos mazilībās Lay down your head

Se aōhī laehossa lēdes And close your eyes

Drakarys avy mīsilza Dragonfire will protect you

Yn sepār kesan. And so too will I.”

Ah, her eyes welled with tears when she finally remembered. It had been the first night after they learned they were to have a babe, and Aemond had bedded her more passionately than he had since their wedding night and more gently than he had ever been.

He sang when they were spent, and she curled into him to sleep. Aemond brushed his fingers in light patterns over her belly and sang. But was that for her or the babe?

The last time he had sung for her and only her… she could not recall. It had been some ordinary day when she did not know she should hold onto that memory and keep it close. She did not know it was a memory she would need when Aemond went to war.

“Dōnī ēdrurī emilās, ñuha raqno Dream sweetly, my love

Bantio rȳ ēdrūs Sleep all through the night

Nyke aōma unna I will be with you

Vapār ōños arlī amāzīlza. Until again there is light.”

She wanted to be angry at him, accuse him of only singing now so he could worm his way back into her heart. But she knew that accusation would be false. After the way he fussed over her today, she knew he was truly worried for her health – and the health of the babes.

Besides, his voice and the familiarity of the song were now truly lulling her to sleep.

She was grateful for it.

“Skorī ñāqes kesīr ilos When morning is here

Se īlvon geron vamiot ilza And our journey is nigh

Īlon henkirī īlvī zaldrīzī kipili We will both mount our dragons

Sepār, sōvīlā.” Then, we will fly.”

Her last thought before her eyes slid closed was that she hoped he had not sung the lullaby – their lullaby – to Alys or her child.

-

Aemond woke to the sound of something crashing. He was immediately awake, throwing off his blanket and bolting to his feet. But he saw no one.

What he did see was an empty bed.

In an instant, his panic had risen to a peak it had reached only once before – the day he’d found out that his half-sister and her husband had taken King’s Landing, and in the aftermath, Aegon was missing and his ābrazȳrītsos was now in the hands of his enemies.

A horrible retching soon alerted him to his wife’s presence on the floor of the room, halfway between the bed and the washbasin against the far wall. But it did not quell his panic.

She was panting between harsh bouts of sickness, her arms trembling as they struggled to hold her up. Aemond moved immediately, kneeling beside her and sweeping her hair away from her face. His words of comfort and concern died instantly when he felt her lean against him.

She was so thin.

Her nightgown was soaked through with sweat, allowing him a clear and horrible view of every knob on her spine and curve of her ribs. The further she pressed into him, the more he could feel the sharp planes of her shoulder blades and the sickening lightness of her form. She was like some of the near-corpses he’d seen in the war – hardly more than skin stretched taut over mere bones.

He had not seen it before. She’d been bundled in robes and gowns and furs. And when she changed into her nightgown earlier this evening, she had not allowed him to look at her until she was buried beneath the blankets.

She knew.

She knew how frail she was. He knew and had not wanted him to know…

Had not wanted him to worry. Not while he was at war.

“Ābrazȳrītsos…”

She sobbed once before she was sick again. He said nothing else until he was relatively certain whatever illness had possessed her passed, and tried not to be too grateful that she didn’t push him away.

“Little darling, please,” he pulled her closer so he could rest against his chest. She did not resist. “What happened?”

She shook her head, reaching to wipe her mouth with the sleeve of her nightgown. Aemond stopped her, set her hand back on her lap, and used his own sleeve instead. She sighed as if the gesture somehow upset her, then slumped slightly. “Nothing happened. Nothing new, at least. This happens nearly every night.”

Every night. No wonder she was so thin.

“Still?” Aemond finally managed to ask in a rasping voice. She had been so sick in those early days – it was what had prompted them to take her to the Maesters, where they discovered she was with child. But it had gotten better in the days before he left for Harrenhal. She had said it was getting better.

She nodded, her eyes shut tight as she turned away from him. Was it from exhaustion or shame? “It…” she swallowed, and Aemond realized how dry her throat must be. He would fetch her something to drink as soon as she could stand. “It never stopped.”

“Oh ābrazȳrītsos…” his voice broke as the realization of how badly she had been suffering sank in. And all the while, he’d been sharing his bed with another woman.

If the Father truly cared for justice, he would have struck Aemond dead the moment he touched that witch.

Aemond held her close, panting with the effort it took to hold back his tears of shame. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

She was silent for a long while. Then, “I’m tired, Aemond.”

“I know.”

A long pause. It took him longer than it should have to realize she was looking at him and longer still to recognize the plea in her eyes. She wanted his help. Or perhaps more accurately, needed his help.

So help her he did, eagerly. He sat her at one of the chairs by the table while he removed her soiled nightgown and dressed her in another. He brought the washbasin to her so he could help her wash her face, then brought her a pitcher of fresh water so she could rinse her mouth. He braided her hair once more and carried her back to bed,

Once he’d pulled the blankets back over her, he reached out to her. When she didn’t flinch away, he softly stroked her cheek. “Is there anything else I can get you, my love?”

She opened her eyes just slightly. “I’m cold.”

He turned on his heel to fetch his blanket from the couch. There was still warmth radiating from the hearth. He could move to the rug.

But when he’d settled that blanket on her as well, she opened her eyes wider and gazed up at him. “Aemond…”

If there was ever proof that the gods could be merciful, that was it.

Still, he had to be certain he wasn’t mistaken. “Are you sure?”

She nodded. Thank all the gods in the world, she nodded.

His veins buzzing with ecstatic joy, he walked to the other side of the bed and climbed in beside her. As he wrapped his arms around her, it almost didn’t matter that he could feel her frailness, that he knew she had only asked this because she truly was cold, or that his touch was tainted by his sins.

Aemond was sharing a bed with his wife. He was holding her. Her, and their children.

When her breathing finally settled, and she drifted off to sleep, Aemond closed his eyes, tucked his face into her hair, and prayed he dreamt of a world where he had slain Alys the moment he first saw her.

#aemond #aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen fanfic #aemond fanfic #aemond targaryen imagine #aemond imagine #aemond fluff #aemond one eye #aemond smut #aemond the kinslayer #aemond x reader #aemond x you #aemond x y/n #aemond x fem!reader #hotd #hotd aemond #hotd fanfic #hotd smut #hotd imagine #hotd x reader #house of the dragon #house of the dragon fanfic #ewan mitchell #what is broken

[thedarlingdearestdead]

Understanding

Ok I have a new hyper-fixation...

Summary: You are betrothed to Coriolanus Snow, rather against your will. At your engagement party you bitterly protest the attachment and so Coryo has to bring you around...

Warnings: Uh yeah, full on smut. R18. Dub!con/non!con. Bad Coriolanus.

Word count: 2,041

Part 2 on its way!

The marriage with Coriolanus happened so fast, it was completely out of your control. Your parents had, of course, been thrilled when they were proposed with the offer, the Snows were once again on top of the world, with Coriolanus joining the increasingly prestigious group of Gamemakers for the 13th annual Hunger Games. 

Now moving into his twenties, it was expected that the man found a suitable wife, and as the newly 18 year old heiress of one of the most wealthy old families still functioning, you supposed you must have been at the top of his list. 

You had not known Coriolanus in school, him being a few significant years older than you, but you had heard of him. His name had been everywhere even then. The handsome and reclusive Snow, with top grades in everything and not even a single scandal to be whispered down the gossip line. Until Lucy Grey. Until the games. Until those months when he disappeared from all sight before coming back with a splash. New heir to the Plinth money, apprenticeship under head gamemaker Dr Gaul, and on the unmistakable path to power and presidency. 

You didn’t much care for all that. You only cared that he had barely spoken to you, and yet your engagement party loomed, and you were set to move in with him that night. 

Your mother hung a dress above your closet for the occasion, a patriotic Capital red, you blanched slightly at the neckline and the dangerous slit on the side. Surely this would not be appropriate. “Mama, are you certain you have collected the right dress?” You asked entreatingly. 

“Yes dear, Coriolanus sent it himself, what a gentleman!”

Your heart plummeted, what a joke. 

By the time you were ready your car was already waiting outside, you had a feeling you had left slightly late, if the frowns of your parents were anything to go by. No matter. You doubted you would be much missed. You hadn’t been allowed a look into the arrangements or the guest list, you guessed it was just another opportunity for your ‘fiance’ to socialize with the upper classes, with his colleagues.  

But contrary to your growing feelings of insignificance, as you pulled up you saw the figure of a familiar young man. Coriolanus wore a fitted three-piece black suit with a bright red rose at his lapel. His blonde hair had been wrangled into respectable curls and his blue eyes glinted in the moonlight. But what truly took your breath away was the expression on his face. It was so tight.

As your car slowed to a stop, he moved for the door, first giving his aid to your mother and guiding her out, exchanging pleasantries and suffering her excited chatter, before moving to reach you. His hand was soft but gripped yours so hard as he all but pulled you out of the vehicle.

“Is it your habit, Y/N, to arrive so… fashionably late?” 

It sounded like a reprimand and made your heart beat into attention. The glamorous suit and charming smile that he wore on his face to your parents had such a threatening glint under the surface. You wondered at how they didn’t notice, chuckling softly, saying that yes, yes you had always been somewhat ignorant of keeping time. 

You saw the way his jaw clenched and you felt his firm grip on your arm now. “Well, let’s not keep your guests waiting. Shall we?” How dare he pose it as a question! He was already dragging you into the fold. 

It began in a blur of names, shaking hands and congratulations, all of which flew right over your head. Instead of paying attention to your audience you had instead attempted to track down some posca, soon nursing your glass in one hand, and letting yourself be led with the other. 

“And what a beautiful dress Y/N, perfect for such an occasion!” A couple from Coriolanus’ work had cornered the two of you by one of the tables and engaged you in conversation. Coriolanus smiled his twisted and charming smile, he, of course, remembered their names, asked after their children, her mother. 

It sickened you the way he played people, the way he played your parents. “Really?” You said in reply to the man’s compliment, “I wasn’t sure, it’s a bit bright and not entirely my style.” 

The man blinked at your dismissal of him. And Coriolanus went still. So you wanted something darker, he thought? He could certainly give you that. 

“What she means to say is that she wanted to try something new and special for this party, to begin this marriage as she means to continue it.”

By wearing his selection of dresses? By letting him control your every move? You flinched as he kissed your cheek. 

“Isn’t that right, dear?”

“Whatever you say.” You laugh and take a swig of your drink. His face stays mostly calm, but only you, in such close proximity to him, notice the twitch in his eye. 

From then he keeps a much stronger grasp on you, his hand never straying from your lower back as he trails you through the hoards of people, his trophy to show off. 

Walking past a buffet table, you lean over to grab one of the many sweet snacks, it was one of your favorites, a puffy red cube covered in icing sugar. Coriolanus was watching you, and he grabbed your wrist before you could place it in your mouth. 

“You’ll ruin your lipstick, you’ll be a mess.” He grimaced, a look of disgust crossed his face at the mere thought. You relished in it. You moved your hand back to the table, as if to put it back, causing him to release your arm. Just as he turned away to converse once again with some colleague, you snatch the treat back up to your mouth and revel in the tart rosy taste of it, feeling your lips coat with the white powder. 

His eyes caught the action and followed it as your tongue licked away the powder, his cheeks flush red in stark contrast to his growing frown. It brings a most dangerous light to his face, one that makes your body shudder as you clock eyes. 

He squeezes your waist threateningly. “Excuse us, please.” He says to the men he’d been talking with. He dragged you away through the crowd, not stopping for anyone else, only flashing that smile, faking an incident or rendezvous with his fiancee. He takes you down the side of the building, and stops, pushing you against the wall.

“What do you think you’re doing?” He hisses at you, face inches from your own. 

His closeness sent you spiraling, and his strength began to make you panic. He truly had you trapped there, hsi to interrogate. 

“I… I don’t know.” You gasped, his forearm against your throat, cutting off air.

“Are you so determined to sabotage me?”

“Why shouldn’t I be? You’ve given me no reason to support you.”

“No reason?” He says quietly, “No reason?” His voice increases in volume, “You are my wife, that is your only reason, your only job.”

“I am not your wife yet.” You almost spit it into his face. 

“Oh really? That’s not what the paperwork says.”

You shook your head desperately, “I haven’t signed anything.”

“Why would it need your signature?” He sounded genuinely confused, as if the thought had never entered his mind. A contract, your life had been given away on a contract. “The wedding is but a formality. You need to come to terms with this or I’ll…”

“You’ll what?”

His furious eyes blaze into your own, so full of righteousness, of power. It terrified you. You were so certain that he would act now, hit you, or scream at you, that you didn;t expect what happened next. You didn’t expect his lips to be on yours. 

He kissed you harshly, banging your head into the brick wall behind you, making stars swirl in your head, behind your eyes. It hurt as he dug his fingers into your waist, as he searched for the slit in your dress, and yanked it up your body. It hurt as he grabbed your thighs, picking you up effortlessly and holding you up completely. And then it didn’t. And then nothing did, and your body filled instead with an intense wave of unrelenting pleasure. 

“You’re unbelievable,” you gasp.

He barely let you breathe as his mouth attacked yours and his fingers ravaged your clit through your panties. It felt so good. Despite everything it felt so good. You whispered as much and moaned whenever a break in the kisses occurred. 

He didn't stop, didn’t slow until your body relaxed, until your forehead fell against his in a silent unwilling gasp. 

“Don’t you see it could be good?” He whispered right next to your ear. He kissed the soft skin underneath it, “It could be so good.”

And then he dropped you, and as your legs were weak from your orgasm, they failed to catch you, and you fell onto the ground. You looked up at him, your hooded eyes full of confusion and lust and desperation. There was a smirk on his face and desire was still lighting his eyes. 

“If you let me do whatever I want to you, y/n. If you accept that you belong to me.” He said it so simply, so matter of fact. He offered his hand to you, clearly ready for you to be compliant. So you swat it away, and stand up by yourself, ignoring the slickness between your thighs and the shaking of your body. 

It was clearly the wrong move. Fury burned in his eyes once again and he grabbed you by the waist. Twisting you around and turning you to face the wall. Your hands snatched out to stop your collision with it as he once again worked at your skirts. His breath was hot on your neck and you couldn't help the way your body was already reacting to this change. You could hear his every move, your heart raced as you heard him undo his belt. 

Working down your underwear, he kissed your neck lightly, surprisingly gentle when he eased himself inside you from behind. It was too much, it felt much too good. One of your arms reached back to try and touch him, and he responded by grabbing your hand in his before placing them both against the wall as he started to thrust inside of you.

“Are you going to be good for me?”

All you could do was moan as he settled himself deep inside of you, hitting all the right spots with a relentless precision. His grip tightened on your hand at your sounds which only got louder as he pounded into you. Tears leaked from your eyes, from pain or pleasure you couldn’t decipher. 

“Shut up. Shut up, or do you want them to see you like this?” He slowed his movements, returning his mouth to your neck. “Do you want them to see me using you? It’s not like they don’t know it already. You seem to be the last one to catch on” 

He released your hand and moved both of his to your waist, he pulled you backwards, making you bend even more obscenely against the wall. From this angle he was hitting you deeper, and it took all your effort not to let out a guttural scream. 

He seemed to enjoy this angle too, speeding up and becoming harder by the second, you could feel it. You felt all of him with his every movement and it was intoxicating. It became all too overwhelming when he came inside of you, it was blindingly hot, you felt all too full as you clenched around him in response. You scrambled for purchase against the wall but he pulled you back up to him, embracing you from behind to catch his breath. When he stepped back to pull out of you, he did so slowly, to watch his cum slide out of you onto the floor, to watch it trail down your legs. 

“Do you understand now?”

#coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow smut #snow #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #the hunger games #coryo snow #coryo x reader #coriolanus x reader #coryo smut #president snow #tom blyth #coriolanus snow marriage

[xo-cod]

https://www.tumblr.com/xo-cod/729110250731520000/you-know-what-i-think-would-be-cute-if-one-of-the?source=share

will u expand on this pls?? esp w simon i love it it's SO CUTE🥰

thank you so much babe :") <33 i just did simon but i can def do the others if you'd like 🤍

continuation from here

cw: abusive past + fluff

"look daddy! that's like you and mum!" her soft laugh of happiness fills his ears and for a minute he just watches her, the shock plastered on his face and then he takes a glance at the tv again. the toys he was placing away in its rightful place was forgotten as he straightened his back, watching the disney characters. they seemed so happy, so in love.

he stood still for a minute, wondering if she was being genuine as he looks back to the little girl who was giggling at him. he didn't have a healthy childhood at home and even as he entered his adult life, nothing but blood, guns and wars surrounded him.

it took him by surprised that lieutenant ghost, the man who knew little to nothing about love and happiness and peace now had a wife and a baby who was growing up in the homes he always wished he could live in as a child.

the only romantic love he could see around him was the abuse his father put his mother through, watching the light dim from her eyes everyday was a sight simon didn't think he could ever forget.

there were some scars that were seared so deep, even after time had run its course the pain was still fresh as ever. he didn't think he would ever heal from the shackles that wrapped themselves so deeply around him, burdens that he had to carry day in and day out in his life all the time. even though being with you had significantly lessened them, there were still moments that made him question everything he ever knew.

so being a father was scary but so exciting. the nerves were bundled up deep inside him, utterly worried that he wouldn't be able to love the child like they deserved. he remembered the night he paced your hospital floor while you were sleeping, full of the medications they were giving. all he could do was helplessly look at you, his heart pounding at the bundle of joy soon to be arriving. could he love them? or did the trauma from his father run incredibly deep that he'd cower away and hide? they were irrational fears, he knew that much. but it didn't help either way, he wanted to be the possible father ever. but how could he do that when he was do broken from his own?

and then his baby was born and he almost gave out, trembling when he held her tiny tiny body in one arm as the hand of the other ever so gently caressed her head. he looked at you with shock, his big brown eyes tearing as he chuckles softly. that was a sight you'd never forget. a sight he could never either

"me an' mama huh?" he spoke softly, his gaze going from the tv to back to his daughter who nods eagerly at him. she's so happy, its enough to make him emotional. because of him, she was safe and loved. because of him, a man who thought he was too damaged beyond repair, had a child who completely adored him and was living happily

she would never know a life full of abuse and suffering, he would make sure of that

he would kill for her, die for her and everything in between yet even so the small niggling voice of doubt filled his head every damn day wondering if he was cut out to be a father. would he change tomorrow, become the abusive intoxicated asshole like the man raised him was? he grew up in a world full of pain and torture and guns, happy things were far and few between.

"you little munchkin, c'mere" he teased softly, holding her in his massive arms as they both cuddle close together. she shrieks in delight when he blows soft raspberries on her cheeks and kissing her forehead. and he only looks at his baby with a look of pure unconditional love, his smile widening at every happy sound she made. even if he never got the love he deserved as a child, the love he received from you and the baby you both created was enough for him.

it was times like this, moments that he cherished so close to his heart <33

#asks #simon riley #call of duty modern warfare #cod mwii #simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #simon riley x y/n #ghost x reader #ghost x y/n #simon riley x reader fluff #dad!simon riley x reader #dad!ghost #dad!simon riley

[badingsm]

If its possible could you do a Natasha Romanoff x Avenger Wife Reader where reader is pregnant and when the snap happens Natasha is among those who gets dusted/snapped and reader gives birth not a long after and when the team reverses the snap and Natasha returns reader introduces Natasha to their child

Warnings: Mentions of attempted suicide, cursing, depression, suggestive contents, angsty but still fluffy ending.

It's kind of unjustified, I know, but I'm in a rush because our midterms are coming soon :((

"Clint, where's Nat?"

Your heart thumped unsteadily, feeling some ache somewhere in your heart that you couldn't figure out just yet why it was there. But it's surely there.

You got your answer when the man sobbed as he fell onto his knees. "I'm sorry, Y/n.. I'm sorry."

"No, no, no." You shook your head from side to side, tears burning into the corners of your eyes while you refused to believe him with what you think he's implying. "Tell me where my wife is!"

"I'm so sorry," Clint said, wiping away his tears.

"No, Barton! Fuck you, this isn't funny anymore!" You glared at him. "Goddammit, what the fuck happened?"

"It's a soul for a soul," Clint whispered lowly. Flashbacks of the scene moments ago had torturously replayed into his mind, making him feel more miserable than he could even bear. "And she told me to tell you that she loves you and your baby so much—that she's doing this for the both of you, for everyone."

"Fuck everyone!" You screamed madly, tears now flowing endlessly from your bloodshot eyes. "This can't happen—she won't leave us just like that! Fucking hell!"

"I'm sorry, Y/n." Wanda teared up with you, rubbing your back while you looked towards Yelena, who had her knees bent on the ground, her face buried in her palms, while Kate drew circles in her back. "We're going to make this worth it. For Nat. We're here for you."

"No, no, no, don't say that," You scoffed. "We're going to bring back my wife by killing that purple grape motherfucker!"

-

It was a deadly fight. Everyone had some injuries, some severe, and some carrying on. Most were bloodied due to the war that had happened. It was exhausting, filled with rage and pain from all the suffering that all of you had to endure when your loved ones had been dusted and gone.

Everybody mourned the great Tony Stark's sacrifice. It was a gloomy moment, more so because you're about to give birth and you realized that your baby wouldn't have her mama by her side.

It was a painful journey; all the thorns repeatedly stabbed your heart endlessly every minute of every day, crying on the corner while you thought of the moments where you could have been with Natasha throughout your journey.

Before you even knew it, an oxygen mask was placed on your nose as you pushed with everything that you could until you heard the cries of your daughter. It made you cry because Natasha should've been here. She should be the one holding your hand as you painfully pushed instead of this stupid railing of your bed.

"Congratulations, Mrs. Romanoff." Your OB smiled at you, handing your cleaned-up child for a first-time skin-to-skin contact with your daughter.

And you sobbed when you caught sight of your daughter, immediately quieting when she found comfort in the warmth of your chest.

She was the spitting image of Natasha—small strands of red hair were growing in her head, while you also caught a glimpse of her forest green orbs. Her nose and her lips—all are Natasha.

Jesus.

You really miss her.

"Hi, my love." You kissed your daughter's temple, sniffling quietly. "I'll be here for you always, and Mama's going to be in your heart always."

-

"Shayne, I told you, don't bother me again!" You sighed over the phone, feeling the ache of not sleeping for 36 hours already due to your daughter crying endlessly. "I'm not interested!"

"You need someone to be with you," Shayne insisted. You met her in a bakery shop that she owned after one of your visits to Natasha's grave. You became good friends until she confessed her love for you, and it got out of hand. "You're smart enough to know that your daughter needs somebody else other than you."

"First of all, fuck you." You spat lowly over the phone, afraid to wake up your daughter again and make her grumpy for the next few days. "Second, how dare you! Third, shut your useless mouth before I do. Lastly, if you ever bother me again, I'll make sure your mouth will be put in its appropriate place. Bye."

You ended the call with nothing but fury in your heart. It actually felt nice to have a friend outside the compound, but then, as it turns out, it will be three times worse than you had imagined, making you wish that you never entered it in the first place.

You look over to the crib, where a two-month-old baby girl is sleeping peacefully, as if she hadn't just turned your whole world upside down. It's not that you're complaining; you love your daughter with everything that you have, but without Natasha's guidance, you don't know what to do. It came to the point where you suffered from severe depression. You tried drinking some paracetamol all at once but stopped when you heard the needy cries of your baby.

God, everything feels exhausting.

Then, before you even knew it, you were silently crying over the corner, holding your palm against your mouth so you wouldn't make a noise that might startle the sleeping child. It all felt heavy while you had nothing but a child to hold onto.

Knock knock!

You groaned, walking towards the door, knowing probably that Shayne decided to barge into your house yet again, which is already annoying, when suddenly, as you opened the door, you were faced to face with the person whom you missed so dearly.

You blink owlishly, pinching yourself quietly from behind as you look at her with squinted eyes, and finally, when you see her smile shyly at you with a small wave, you realize that she's real.

Finally, Natasha's back.

Natasha Romanoff is home.

You scoffed, lunging at her with a bear hug while she enveloped you with the same warmth that you longed for.

"I missed you, baby!" Natasha mumbled in between your teary kisses, about to press her soft lips again against yours when you pinched her side and repeatedly slapped her shoulder. "Babe! What?!"

"You bastard!" You cried, tears wrecking away through your eyes. "You left me alone! You left us—your daughter! Damn it! Do you always have to be the hero, huh? Why do you always have to sacrifice something? Can't you be selfish for once?"

"Baby, I'm so sorry," Natasha muttered like a mantra as she hugged you tightly until you got tired of your tortures on her body. "I'm so sorry, detka. I love you, and it won't happen again."

"Yeah, no, I'm still mad and furious-" You were cut off by the loud cries of the little child that you and Natasha had made together on one of your date nights as you both got lost in translation and fell in love with how your bodies seemed to understand each other passionately wordlessly. "Fuck."

"Is that...?" Natasha didn't have to finish her sentence when you both entered the messy house. The redhead didn't care about the slight lack of tidyness, as her eyes were trained immediately to the small frame on your arms. "Y/n.."

"Hi Mama!" You smiled, your heart leaping in joy when you finally realized that your daughter's able to finally meet her Mama and be with her Mama. Finally. "We missed you."

"Not as much as I do, love," Natasha kissed both of your foreheads, shakily reaching out to cradle your guy's baby when you insisted that she should hold her. "God, she's so beautiful."

"She looks like you." You grinned, hugging Natasha by the waist as the wailing child immediately fell silent at the warmth of her mother and the lulling of her low hum. Your hand went further until you reached the area below her glorious ass, pinching it as hard as you could, making the widow yelp due to the force of your own powers, "Baby, what was that for?!"

"Revenge." You smiled tightly. "Tell me how you're able to come back here soon, okay? Right now, I just want us to cherish this moment as a whole family, please?"

"Of course, my love," Natasha grinned, pursing her lips as she leaned in to kiss you. "I love you, baby."

You sighed, shaking your head. "Not enough."

"What?" Natasha was confused. "What do you mean?"

"You have to promise that you won't leave us again." You stared at her, the burning of the corners of your eyes indicating your tears even though you fought them back as much as you could. "Please, Nat, I can't bear to lose you again—we can't."

Natasha's heart ached at the pleading look that you gave her. It hurts her that she's the reason for your pain and misery, even though that wasn't entirely true to you. She smiled, finally making up her mind to do some lighter and more office work on the compound rather than have deadly missions from now on. Unless she needed to, after all, it's still her mission to help the people.

"I promise."

-

Bonus:

The night was finally peaceful this time. There weren't any nightmares that will haunt you at night, and there won't be any dreams that will make you wreck into sobs in the daylight because, at last, Natasha's here. With you.

"Good morning, baby." Natasha's husky voice greeted you in the morning. You could feel her slightly tightening her grip around your waist as both of your bodies from last night fell into each other like a perfect puzzle. "God, I missed you so much."

"That's what you get for being so selfless always." You sighed.

It's not that you're selfish; of course, you want to save those in need because that's the reason why you both are heroes, but sometimes you wish the guilt from Natasha's past would vanish away because she doesn't deserve it. It was none of her fault because she was controlled and powerless to fight that. It still haunts her every day, and you're empathetic for that.

"Tell me," You whispered lowly while she drew small circles around your skin, making you feel the warmth of her hands. "How is this possible? Are you Natasha from another universe?"

"No, baby, no.." She chuckled lowly, kissing your temple while she breathed out, a small smile creeping into the corners of her lips as she felt thankful for another chance to be with you and your daughter. "The team. They reversed the snap with the help of Tony's theories and equipment after they gave back the stones. It's a long procedure, but here I am now. What's important is that I'm finally here."

"But Tony.." You felt the tears sting your eyes.

"He's back too, baby." Natasha winked, and you scoffed in happiness, kissing her passionately as the day went by. It's still early, and you felt something poke against your ass, causing Natasha to groan lowly. "Now, now, let's make many baby Romanoffs for this house because the author is a hornbag and a whore for me, yeah?"

"Fuck yes!"

And maybe baby number two, indeed.

#natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x fem!reader #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff fluff #black widow #natasha romanoff x you #soft natasha romanoff #black widow x reader #marvel #natasha romanoff angst #natasha romanoff au

[buckyalpine]

Fic idea - Bucky’s family & time travel

You know how I keep proposing ideas, then adding it to my wips and then I stare at it while it stares at me. Heres another. I'm so sorry. Swear this will end in fluff, you'll just suffer in between. So imagine the most angstiest angst where Bucky gets married and has a child with his sweetheart before he’s sent to war. He's loved her his whole life and now they have a little one together; nothing could be more perfect. He promises he'll be back safe and sound with a kiss to her forehead and plenty of kisses for his baby girl.

Until Hydra captures him and turns him into the Winter Soldier. His first mission is to eliminate any familial ties. He doesn't feel anything when he pulls the trigger. He's successful and carries out hundreds of others kills, each searing itself in some part of his brain but he's constantly wiped before he can piece anything together.

But then he's rescued and he has to pick up the broken fragments of his memories and its too much of a fog for him to understand. At the very least he has his best friend by his side again and he's slowly starting to remember.

His first question is about his sweet y/n and his little girl.

His happiness is short-lived when Steve doesn't say anything. Bucky doesn't understand why he avoids his gaze, why he suddenly looks so distraught. No amount of pleading or begging works, his best friend doesn't breathe a word, asking Bucky to please let things be.

To learn to live with the way things were.

He can't do that though. He needs answers. When the team is away on a mission, he find a way to get into his records that SHIELD kept on him, wondering if they ever had anything on file about his life before he was captured. Every single detail about who he was before the war to after is written with details and camera footage.

He doesn't move from where he's seated, a blank expression on his face while everyone returns. Steve approaches Bucky first, worried about why the soldier looked so pale as if he'd aged 10 years in the past 3 days.

"I killed them?" His broken whisper of a voice breaks Steve's heart when he sees the file Bucky was looking at, a picture of him, his little girl on his shoulders and wife all smiling at the camera. The sheet he's clutching onto has their names along with deceased written write across the sheet.

Bucky is inconsolable.

His dreams are no longer about others he has killed. He's flooded with memories of her; the soft ivory dress she wore on their wedding day, the baby pink lace she had on when he undressed her that same night, the scent of her perfume, the sound of her laugh, the kicks of their baby, the sound of her happy squeals when he blew raspberries onto her chubby cheeks.

Those happy memories are quickly replaced with her pleading for him to remember. To just remember at least once.

Jamie, it's me, please, m'your y/n, Bucky, don't-

D-daddy?

Baby, go to your room-Bucky no-

Mama!

Please, not Bella, James, you love her baby, you love us- please remember me-

I-I love you

The pain of Bucky's cries are too much for anyone to handle. They're a different type of sadness. So much so, even Tony's starting to worry when he doesn't see Bucky for days on end. He begs to be put back in cyro, to have his memories wiped, to have his brain fried, anything to forget. He doesn't care about the pain, he just wants it all to end.

Imagine theres a mission that involves time travel. Steve and Sam stand on the platform, ready to enter the portal, setting their timers for a specific date in the past. When Sam catches Steve adding another date without telling him, he quietly adds it on his suit as well, piecing what the Captain plans on doing.

The mission takes a little longer than anticipated. Steve is surprised when Sam is beside him when he travels back to the 40's, the both of them now with a new mission in mind, alternating the future be damned. If they had a chance to give Bucky the life he deserved again, they would do it. Bucky doesn't ask for much. In fact he never asked for anything. He deserved this.

Imagine the shock everyone gets when the portal opens up at the compound and there are now 4 people on the platform. Steve, Sam, a woman and a little girl no older than 2. She's dressed in a simple dotted dress, still wearing an apron around her waist while her baby stays clinging around her, tucking her face into her mommas neck.

Imagine the way Bucky would collapse with her when he sees his family again, crying endlessly being able to hold his wife and child, something he thought he'd lost forever. Everyone gives the little family some privacy while he hugs and kisses them, cuddling them to his chest, still right on the lab floor. Explanations for everything can wait, right now he can't believe he has his angels back.

Imagine the way they'd fall asleep that night, sleeping in bed for once, now that he's reunited with his y/n and his Bella.

imagine the endless love he'd make to her while Bella spends time with her God Fathers, aka all the Avenger men.

Imagine she's pregnant soon after and they can continue being a family in the present, doing all the things they always dreamed of.

Anyway, just a thought.

#bucky barnes x you #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x f!reader #bucky barnes angst #bucky angst #marvel angst #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fan fiction #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky fluff #bucky imagine #bucky barnes fan fic #bucky x you #marvel fanfics #bucky fan fic #bucky fan fiction #james bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes #james bucky buchanan barnes

[tinydeskwriter]

Actress!Y/n Talking About Harry in Interviews Over the Years(2018-2022) Part II

 A/n:so, this is the second part, and I really hope you guys like it .

PART I | MASTERLIST

Jimmy Kimmel Live!, September, 2018

“I am so happy to have you here again.” Kimmel said, as they sat down. “You’re no longer my neighbor.”

“Unfortunately.” The woman agreed. “I miss you, Molly and the kids, we don’t have neighbors anymore.”

“You mean the house next door isn’t ready or…” 

“We literally have no neighbors, we bought fourteen acres ‘next door’ to a preserve, so it’s amazing views and a huge amount of privacy.” She explained. “Which when you have a job in the industry, and two young children is amazing.”

“That’s right, you had another baby!”Jimmy said as if he didn’t already now. “How far apart are they?”

“So, we had Atticus in January last year, and eleven months later we had Talulah,” She paused giving the audience time o cheer, “we wanted them to be close in age, which is a decision a lot of parents make, we didn’t know it would happen so fast, but apparently we are very fertile people,” She paused again, letting the people go crazy, “Yeah, so of course, we didn’t factor in our decision Harry’s tour, my album release, all my projects, and a very cranky baby, Atticus is physically all H, but he’s bad temper is all mine.”

“You went on tour pregnant and with a baby?” The host asked. “That must have been a crazy experience.”

“It was something.” She agreed. “But I was the boss’s wife, so everyone took good care of me, made sure I was comfortable, helped around with the baby, and H created an amazing environment with his whole team, it was lovely to witness.”

Met Gala 2019 With Liza Koshy| Vogue

“You co-chaired the Met Gala back in 2016, how is like to be back, and this year your gorgeous husband is co-chairing the event.” Liza asked Y/n as soon as they finished greeting each other.

The camera was zooming on the naked Gucci gown made of black lace, sequins and feathers the superstar was wearing, totally complementing her husband look.

“It is amazing, I am so proud of H, this is such an amazing honor, and is his first year, so I am happy we get to share this with each other.” Y/n said in a soft voice.

“What is ‘camp’ to you?”The you tuber asked.

“Just be yourself, whatever you want no matter what, be bold, be crazy, it’s camp.” The actress said moving her colorful feather boa/cape situation. “I think there is no limits.”  She had almost Rapunzel long hair extensions and a spectacular floral and feathers arrangement on top of her head.

“What was your inspiration for tonight’s spectacular look?”

“I just wanted to match H, tonight is all about him, and have fun, so I let Alessandro do as he pleased, and Ale being Ale didn’t hold back.” she shared. “My youngest didn’t even recognized me.”

“You look one hot mama, it’s hard to imagine you have two babies, does Atticus and Talulah know they have the coolest mother?”Liza asked.

“H is the cool parent,” Y/n admitted with a found smile, “Atticus has some idea that his daddy is a rockstar, so Harry’s definitely the coolest in his eyes.” 

The Late Late Show | Team USA v. Team UK- Dodgeball w/Michelle Obama

“I am here to support Harry,”Y/n said to he camera as the teams stretched in the background, “he’s not a very gracious loser, and I mean, he’s in James’s Team against Michelle Obama, there is just no way that they are going to win this game.” 

“Babe, “ Y/n called from the sidelines after watching Harry be hit in the ‘1D’ “Are you okay, honey?”

“I want more kids… in the future,” the actress blushed slightly looking to the camera.

The Kelly Clarkson Show, Jan, 2020

“How old are your kids know?”Kelly asked.

“Atticus is three years old, and Lulah just turned two, the terrible twos, funny enough, Lulah doesn’t suffer from it, but Atticus haven’t got over it yet…”Y/n said with a smile as pictures showed up on the screen, her children faces always blurred or hidden.

“People say terrible two, but threenager is a real thing,”Kelly said seriously.

“Yeah, that’s what I heard,”The actress said. “But Lulah just turned two, and I think it might not have fully catch up with her yet, because as I was leaving the house today, she threw her first temper tantrum.” Y/n commented. “She was just, on the floor, crying her little heart out, and of course, Atticus didn’t like to be outdone, so he threw himself at the rug screaming bloody murder, and I just left them there for Harry to deal,” The young woman told Kelly. “I sounded so bad right now, but really, I am that mom that keeps trying to calm them down, and things just get worst because it becomes a competition between the two toddlers, while Harry is just chill, he sit on the couch and just watches them unamused until they organically stop.”

“They lay it on sometimes, like ‘why are you leaving me’”

“I thing is worst with Harry,”Y/n confessed, “I have no problem in admitting H is the favorite parent, like, they come to me for comfort and all the ‘mommy’ things, but Harry is their favorite.” She said with a smile.

“And you don’t feel jealous or anything…”

“No, because, to me, it just shows how much of na amazing daddy he is, and I just feel like: damn! I made a really good choice.”The crowd cheer. “It’s really validating and I am just proud of myself for my choice in partner and baby daddy.”

Hailey Bieber | Who’s in my Bathroom? April, 2021

“Do you get uncomfortable by the amount of female attention your husband’s get?” Hailey asked as they sipped their margaritas.

“So, I have two answers for those questions: I don’t get uncomfortable with his fans showing their love for him, it’s lovely to see the amount of love and devotion he inspires, and they have always been so welcoming to me.” She said looking at possible the only other woman in the planet that understood the level of craziness it was. “But I do get uncomfortable with women in the industry hitting on him, I am not even talking women our age, it’s like: cougar level, and very recently we had a very awful situation, where it was in a working environment with a power imbalance, and it just got too much, more people got involved, media attention happened, and at the same time we had to deal with this as a couple and as a family.”

“Does you ever wish you guys just had normal jobs and careers?”Hailey supports her face in her hand. 

“Never, no matter what, I can’t imagine Harry not doing what he does, and I would never no make the career choices I did, I love acting, I love singing and songwriting, and I love directing.” She says with conviction. “For me it was life changing, I came from nothing, my mom was a single mother waitress, raising three kids on a small wage salary and tips, Disney changed my life, it paid for our first house, for the seed money in my mother’s organic company, it paid my sister college.”

“Is it surreal that your children have a childhood so different from yours?”The blonde asks with a smile.

“They’re extremely privileged, my four years old the other day was like: mummy, why do we have so many houses? And Lulah was complaining the size of the Jet, because she wanted the ‘big plane’, and H was like: sugarcube, you don’t know what your are asking for.” Y/n said with a soft smile. “My children…they have a lot of rich people problems.”

The Drew Barrymore Show, Aug, 2022

“Oh My God, you look even more gorgeous in person.” Drew said as they created each other. 

“Thank you, thank you, have you look at yourself? I was obsessed with you growing up, it’s so amazing to be here.” Y/n said with a big smile, arranging the skirt of her dress as she sat down.

“You’re the face of a Dior perfume, a brand ambassador for Gucci, multi- award winning actress and musician, your under thirty with two Academy Awards, which is historical, you have two successful companies, you just came back a few months ago from a very glorious passage through Cannes where you  debuted Top Gun: Maverick, your own movie and you own Camera d’Ore for your debut feature, also: 14 minutes standing ovation, for a movie produced, directed, written and starred by women,” she stopped for a moment to allow the crowd to applauded the guest, “and then, your also a mom, to three children, and you’re married to Harry freaking Styles, the world’s biggest rockstar, and most wanted man according to Rolling Stones.”

“You just made me sound so cool.”The younger woman said with a small smile and flushed cheeks.

“You are cool.”Drew affirmed. “How do you balance it all?”

“I have a great team working with me, and I have just the greatest partner, and this is really important.”Y/n said crossing her legs. “We plan things in a way that the children will always have one of us 24/7 and in a way that we can always be together, his career is never more important than mine and vice-versa, we’re on tour now, Harry’s Love on Tour, I am a non-touring artist, but H really loves touring, is his thing, and it was important for him to have me and the kids together  with him on the road as his support system, and the children just love going to all the different museums, and seeing new things, and eating different stuff, but, during his tour break we’re moving to Australia because I have a movie that is going to be shoot there.”

“What is like going on tour with three young children under five?”

“It’s chaos, Atticus and Lulah have some understanding that this is daddy’s job, this is Atticus second tour, but for them is just fun, Riley is just a baby, she’s with me 24/7, shes our calmest child,” Y/n said. “She’s actually the same age that Atticus was during Live on Tour.”

“Riley is your quarantine baby…”

“I found out I was pregnant in February last year during Where the Crawdads Sing pre-production, so yeah, she’s kinda of my Covid baby.”

#harry styles #harry styles imagine #harry styles x actress!yn #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x singer!reader #harry styles x reader #harry styles imagines

[deadpool15]

Sugarbaby vibes ✨️

I walked out of the fitting room wearing the shit Chanel set. Let's be honest I looked to fucking die for, but once I saw the price it looked mid. Of course I wanted it and speaking of price it's Chanel what did I expect. If anything I suggested, let's go thrifting, as you can tell I didn't grow up with money. I'm still trying to get used to living this life now, it's crazy hoe just last week I was struggling to afford a pack of fucking Ramen at the convenience store and now I live in a penthouse. Your girl did, in fact, come up in life. You all better be proud. All thanks to the one and only Bada Lee.

Bada is about 28, and I'm 22, so there is a slight age gap if you care about any of that. Shit I didn't. I just needed someone to pay my bills. How we met it quite an interesting story if you think about it, I mean, I didn't sign up for a sugar mama like on the weird ass movies or stories you see on Wattpad. I was, in fact, working as a waiter in this high-end restaurant with might I add a shitty pay. Why are we serving all this expensive ass shit and in only getting made a few bucks in an hour? It's giving slavery, and not mentions my boss who, like most men, convince himself within the 3 minutes of hiring me that I was destined to be his furtre wife and the mother of his children as he call it. If you wanted to know what crazy looks like, we'll Mr. Kim is a prime example.

But we are getting of topic. See, I don't wanna tell you about my overly obsessive ass boss. I wanna tell you about the women who turned my life around. Serving tables is absolute shit, especially when no matter how rich one is, they never tip. "Hey Blue, bossman says he needs you at table six." I turned around to my partner in crime, Leslie. I'm happy to see her until I realized what she said, "I'm on break, though, like all these people around here . Can't he bother someone else." She gave me a sad smile and shrugged, "no, you know he likes to watch you suffer, because he expects after a while you will give in and let him take you out on a date." I stare at her with disgust.

"Yea, never mind your you're right. I'll take my chances with the wolves again. I'm just get going. If he asks again, make sure to tell him I chose getting screamed and yelled at my rich elderly woman over acknowledging his existence. " I hurried and jog off before she could say anything, grabbing my notepad and pen out of my pocket I had towards table six. With the biggest fake smile on. The love I have for these customers is crazy.

I stand there saying my usual line in the most chipper voice one can muster, whiteout even looking at the person sitting down in front of me. "Hello, ladies and gentlemen. I'm blue and very happy to serve you tonight. So what can I get, you folks?" I hear someone speak before muttering something about how I'm pretty, then I finally gather the courage to look up and see a group of women. All dressed to perfection, clothes tailored just to fit their figure. Those majority of them look around my age or slightly older. After a moment of being caught in a daze while overanlyzing them, I turn to her the tallest one of the bun speak up. "I would like to have a water to drink and just some shrimp pasta."

I make eye contact with her and my God. This is the most beautiful creature I've ever seen in my life. It almost feels like i should have to pay a fee to look upon her face. My stare moves down to her lips and not e how nice and pump they are. I would kill to suck on those lips, to feel what they tasted like even. I realize I've just been staring at her while the rest of the women have spoken uo about their order already. "Oo, I'm s-so sorry." I state being an absolute nervous wreck while looking down at my notepad. I hope she didn't notice that. "It's fine, sweetheart," I heard the girl that was referred to ad Lusher somewhere in the conversation state to me. I hurry up and excuse myself to go get their orders. She keeps staring at me, bitting the inner part of her check. Eventually, they leave after a while, leaving a $200 tip for me. I almost couldn't believe it. This I'd the first time someone has ever given me that much money as a tip.

After a while, the girl continues to come to our little restaurant. Same table, same confidence aura and everything. She makes it seem as if she is trying to just get something to eat. We continue to see each other even after work. She would pop in on my breaks, and around the time, I would clock out. She was intimidating. I'll get her that. I spoke with class, and her vibe just let you know she had money. And it seemed she had her eyes on a certain girl. Me. Though, after beating around the bush, Bada told me exactly what she wanted. "I want to take care of you. You'll never have to worry about a single thing when you're with me. Or lift a finger. Give you the life you deserve, baby. I mean, you are a cute little waitress, but you can be so much more. Why waste your time when you have me. Just say the words, and I'll take care of you."

Some might've immediately said yes, and to be honest, I would've to. Until Bada told me there were rules. Which did kinda throw me off a bit. I mean, I thought I had the whole idea down until well, I realized I didn't. It wasn't just about the money it was the pleasure. How much would she give me, and fuck did she give me a lot. Well lived by only a few rules, but Bada took them very seriously.

Rule 1: Don't question anything

Rule 2: Don't talk back

Rule 3: Don't touch yourself

You should've seen the look on my face when I heard the third rule, I mean, at the bright age of 22, who the hell doesn't masturbate. Literally made no sense to me until she tried to explain it further. "I give you pleasure. I'm the only one who should be touching you. I'm general baby. You belong entirely to me. That's how this works. Therefore, you shouldn't be doing anything without my permission cupcake." After finally going over the terms, I agreed in the end. At the end of the day, I was a broke college student who desperately needed the money, and Bada just so happens to be the sexy older one willing to give it to me. In a sense, I was happy with my current predicament. My life was going well. Now, back to what I was saying earlier.

I stared at myself in the mirror. Sometimes, I forget that I can look this good. "Yea, ayye, get it, girl." In the process of hyping myself up, I finally hear a voice speak up from behind me, scaring the absolute shit out of me. "I'm glad you like it, baby. It does look good on you, I told you I have an eye for beautiful things. I mean, just look at my baby girl." She says while holding on to my waist, kissing my neck slowly. I smile for a while until I realize what she is doing. "Baby, we are in public, a fitting room at that. We aren't doing that here," I say, trying to be firm while avoiding her glaze in the mirror.

"What did I tell you about saying no to me, huh? Do you make the rules?" She forcefully grabbed my chin when she caught on to the act. She grabs my breast while still making eye contact with me in the mirror. "That's right, just stand right here, ok? Gonna be my good girl, right?" I stare at the door, thinking about the people outside that will hear us. While I'm thinking about them, Bada moved the hand that was holding me under my top, slowly circling my right nipple. "Gonna be good, right?" She asks again,she never has enough patience to ask again. It seems she is being nice today. I nod my head at her question this time.

"Word babygirl, I need to hear you. Let them hear you. Just stop all that thinking for me." I whimper at her words. Finally, forgetting about the staff in the store. She moves her hand down my body, teasing me with her pace. "P-please, I'll be g-good. Gonna be so good for you." She smirks, looking down at my face before moving her hand towards my soaked pussy. "Always so f-fucking good for me, aren't you? My precious little baby. Just needs to be filled, like always." I look into her eyes in the mirror about to answer her before she insert a finger into me, all while still playing with my breasts. She knows my body like the back of her hand. Doesn't even have to try to find the spot.

"Yea, right there, come on. I can't hear you, baby girl." I know exactly the game she is playing at, but I can only stand there moaning like a bitch in heat being held on my weak jelly-like legs as she adds two more fingers. While she grinds her hips into me, fuck those bloody dancers and there hips. "Y-yes y-yes... shit o fuck right there". She just smiles at my reactions. Assuming to her if anything. "Were gonna buy this little outfit, then I'm gonna by 28 fucking more just to fuck the shit out of you in them. And you gonna let me, aren't you?. Gonna take it like a good girl who just needs her holes filled, right?" I shake my head, screaming yes over and over again while nodding profusely. Seems that's the only word my brain can come up with as she starts to suck down on my neck leaving marks while circling my clit with her thumbs. And she still continues to thrust those same three fingers in and out of me ob command.

"Fucked you dumb, aww that's adorable baby. But we just started, " She says while smirking, and I stare at her in a mix of fear and pleasure. "Now open those legs wider for me, baby girl."

#swf2 #street woman fighter 2 #street woman fighter x reader #bada lee #bada lee x reader

[sainzfilm]

First snowfall with lando or Pierre. Maybe they have a child who is experiencing it for the first time

pairing: lando norris x reader

a/n: me suffering from this because i havent experienced snow just yet 🥹 but this would be so cute im gonna cry

⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅∙∘☽༓☾∘∙•⋅⋅⋅•⋅⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅

“You know,” You grinned as you stirred the ingredients in the bowl, “I bet she’s going to say mama first.”

Lando scoffed as he rolled his eyes playfully while he fed your daughter, “Of course not! Sloane’s a daddy’s girl, aren’t you, honey?”

Sloane babbled as she clapped her hands together, looking at you while you made Christmas cookies for the family.

“Told you so,” You poked your tongue out at him, placing the batter on the baking sheet before walking over to your little girl, “You’re mommy’s girl, aren’t you?”

Smiling as you wiped your hands on your apron, you reached down to carry your daughter in your arms, “My love’s so pretty.”

Lando smiled as he wrapped his arms around the two of you, kissing your cheek, “And you my love are, as well.”

“Look, daddy’s getting cheesy,” You gasped, looking at Sloane as she giggled, “Anything special as to why you’re extra sweet?”

“Just want to shower my lovely wife with affection,” He replied, caressing your hair and kissing your temple, “And be- oh my god, it’s snowing!”

You looked out the kitchen window, in awe of the snowflakes that started falling and covering the ground, “Baby, did you hear what daddy said? It’s snowing!”

“Wait, let me get her jumper!” Lando called out as he ran upstairs to Sloane’s room, “It’s her first snowfall!”

Laughing at your husband’s antics, you bounced your daughter on your hip as you walked over to the coat rack to grab your coats.

“Sloane, honey, it’s your first snowfall!” You smiled as you gently placed her on the chair, tickling her stomach, “You excited, hm?”

Lando hurriedly ran down the stairs and kneeled down in front of Sloane to dress her up in a bright orange jumper, “A certified papaya girl.”

“Love…” You snickered as you covered your mouth, “She looks like an orange.”

“Then she’s my little orange slash papaya,” He smiled as he carried her in his arms, kissing her cheek, “My girl’s first snowfall.”

As Lando carried Sloane, you put on your coats and gloves, helping him put his after yours. You grabbed your phone, walking out to the garden with your husband and daughter.

Sloane giggled and clapped her hands as she saw the snowflakes fall around her, covering her jumper, and even touching her little cheeks.

“I’m glad that you’re home with us,” You leaned your head on his shoulder, “It wouldn’t be as special without you here.”

“You know that I’ll drop media things to be with my girls,” He replied, bouncing Sloane on his hip, “Plus, I’ll miss the little papaya girl when I’m gone.”

Sloane babbled as she placed her little hands on Lando’s face, squishing it with all her power.

You laughed as you took your phone out and took a few pictures of her, “My pretty little angel…and some man.”

“Hey, I’m not some man,” Lando huffed as he fixed the beanie on her head, “I’m your man.”

“Whatever you say, Mr. Norris,” You teased, sitting down on the ground and reached out for Sloane, “C’mon, baby, let’s make your first snow angels.”

Lando handed her over to you, smiling as he watched you help your daughter make her first snow angels. He never imagined that he’d be at this point, experiencing his daughter’s firsts with the most special woman in his life. But of course, he wouldn’t have it any other way.

bonus scene!

Liked by danielricciardo, georgerussell63, and 634,272 others

landonorris my little papaya’s first snowfall ❄️🧡

view all 272,374 comments

danielricciardo little papaya’s growing up so quickly, i miss her, buddy!

yourusername you better come visit us asap 😤

carlossainz55 so cute, glad she looks more like Y/N than you, muppet 😝

landonorris suddenly i dont know how to read

lando4norris MINI LANDOOOOO she’s so cute, she looks like the both of them so much 😭

norrislovebot i bet he’s saying she’s a daddy’s girl all the time 🫡

papayaupdates i have a slight feeling she’s a mommy’s girl though 🤔

georgerussell63 here to attest that sloane is a mommy’s girl through and through

landonorris THE BETRAYAL, GEORGE. 😫

#sainzfilm drabbles #f1 imagine #formula 1 #f1 fanfic #f1 imagines #f1 x reader #fluff #f1 driver x reader #formula 1 x reader #lando norris x reader #lando norris imagine #drabble #lando norris #ln04 #nor04 #mclaren #lando norris fanfic #lando norris oneshot #lando norris drabble #lando norris fluff

[thefishermansharbor]

The arcana as parents!

The arcana x GN!Reader ( Asra, Lucio, and Julian will be in part 2 )        TW: Mentions of pregnancy. 

Portia Devorak:

She wouldn’t care whether you adopted or had biological children. 

If you had the child yourselves, she’d be really supportive and gentle with you but still try to keep you entertained during your pregnancy. If she got pregnant instead, she’d want to keep working and keep exploring - only really stopping when she’s physically unable to keep up with her tasks.

If you adopted a child, she’d want to adopt a baby, since she has an attitude of ‘ try everything at least once! ‘ and she’d want to try taking care of an infant, just to see if it was as magical as people say it is.

Portia wants to name her children something meaningful. She’d definitely try and convince you to let her name the child after Mazelinka if it was a girl, and Julian if it was a boy. 

She’s definitely the fun parent. She’s willing to try anything that her child suggests - even if she knows it’s stupid. She loves getting wild with her kids, and making sure their childhood is packed with fun, albeit chaotic, memories.

However, under this, she’s a deeply kind and caring mom. She really loves her child, and is behind them in anything they do undoubtedly. She really wants them to know that she’ll support them no matter what happens and why. She wants them to follow their dreams, and live their lives to the fullest.

You’re at a festival. Specifically – a music festival. Your youngest daughter, Mariam ( named loosely after Mazelinka ) is performing for the first time. Your wife, Portia, squeezes your hand excitedly as you watch your little girl go onto the stage with her piano. 

“ THERE’S MAMA’S SUPER STAR!” She shouts from the audience, before the show can even begin. Mariam notices this, and waves excitedly before she’s ushered over to the center of the stage.

“ oh, look! She’s doing so good, she gets her talent from you. Can you believe that’s our seven year old? I was eating dirt at her age!” Portia jokes, whispering.

“ mhm.” You whisper back, watching carefully.

“ I’m so proud! She’s absolutely amazing at this. I’m so glad that milady gave me the day off for this.” She says quietly to you. She wouldn’t ever want to ruin this moment - but she can’t contain herself. She’s just overjoyed at your daughter’s performance. 

Once the performance is finished, Portia claps longest and loudest out of everyone in the audience. She practically zips through the crowd to get her daughter, giving her a tight bear hug. 

“ You’re wonderful! You’ve got such a talent, honey. Mama’s so very proud of you, and ____ is too!”

Your little girl hugs her back. “ mommy, you’re hugging me a little too tight.” Mariam admits, beaming back at Portia. After a while, Portia lets go. 

“ We should do something to celebrate your awesome skills. How about we go out for a fancy dinner now?” Portia grins. 

“Okay!”, Mariam takes her hand, grinning back. You follow behind the two of them, wondering how you got so lucky.

Muriel the outsider:

I’m sorry, but he would only have biological children if they were an accident. He’s just too anxious to deal with the fears and possible dangers that happen with pregnancy. Plus, he also doesn’t want other children to ever go through what he went through living on the streets as an orphan.

If you do get pregnant by accident, that’s fine. He’d never leave you to deal with a child by yourself, He’ll be there for you and care for you to the best of his ability ( which isn’t a lot because he’s insanely nervous. )

But if things go to plan, and you adopt a child - he doesn’t give a single damn what age or background they are. For him, it’s about making sure that no child has to go through the loneliness that he suffered from.

Doesn’t mind what they’re named. You can take the reigns with that if you’d like, but if he has to make the decision he’ll ultimately name them after something in nature. 

Due to his dangerous childhood, he is a tad overprotective and over affectionate. It’s all good intentions though, he just doesn’t ever want to see his child unhappy or suffering. That’s why he tries to prevent them from getting into any situation that could potentially be dangerous to them. 

Even if Mars would have to crash into the earth for the situation to even possibly be dangerous. He’s just taking that extra precaution! 

“ No, Ivy, don’t touch that.” He says softly, watching his toddler try grab a rose. She doesn’t register this at all, and continues to try and rip the flower out of the soil. 

He walks over, and carefully picks her up. She’s tiny compared to him - he can hold her with one arm. She squirms around, babbling and trying to get back to the plant. 

“ I know, Ivy. But roses have thorns, and they might prick your fingers.” Muriel murmurs. You come up next to him, and kiss him on the cheek, carefully taking your daughter into your arms. 

“ Have you been causing trouble today, baby?” You ask, she simply babbles and grabs onto your shirt in response. 

You then look over to Muriel, he’s silently admiring the two of you. He loves you both so very much, and there couldn’t possibly be a more comforting sight than this to him. 

“ Hi, dear.” He whispers, “How’s your day been?” 

“Not too interesting. Working as the castle Magician has been awfully boring.. I’m glad to see you guys.” 

He nods, and brings you into a hug, kissing your forehead. You would hug him back - but you’re still carefully holding onto your daughter. She’s holding loosely onto your sleeve, staring up at you with big curious eyes.

“ Isn’t she lovely?” Muriel asks, he couldn’t have possibly found a more genuine happiness. He can’t even register your response, he’s just so in awe of how content he is with his life and how there are so many wonderful people in it. He truly wouldn’t trade what he has now for the world. 

Nadia Satrinava:

Would much rather adopt as well. She finds it invigorating to know that she’s providing a home for those who need it and living up to her goal of being a selfless leader and person. 

If you were to have biological children, she’ll spoil you during your pregnancy. She’ll spoil you as if there’s no tomorrow - getting you anything and everything you might need or want. If she’s the one who gets pregnant, she’ll have Portia take over some of her duties as countess while she works towards term. She doesn’t want to overwork herself and hurt her child, but she still has lingering guilt that she isn’t working.

If you are to adopt, she would rather adopt a slightly older child. One who could walk and talk already, merely because she’s afraid that her duties as countess would prevent her from teaching her child those immaculately. 

Would want her child to have an important name that displays their personality and suits them. She’d have to meet her child first before deciding on a name, and choose one accordingly.

Is a calm parent but also a voice of authority. She’s the one who gives your child a scolding if they step too far out of line, but it’s always level headed and reasonable. She’ll be mature and never make your child upset. 

What’s the one thing she wishes to instill in your child? She wants them to have a good education. She wants them to be educated, and have good self - advocacy skills. 

“ Noam, have you been studying?” Nadia asks him quietly, sat across from him at the table. You’re sitting left of your lover, and right of your son. She skims through important documents and he doodles on his notebook, smiling.

“ Yes, mama. I got a 90% on my math quiz today.” He says proudly, smiling.

She looks up, grinning back at him. You notice how he inherited her smile, and it makes you let out a soft chuckle. 

“ Wow! I’m so proud of you, Noam. You’re an excellent boy.” She gushes, putting down what she was working on. You nod, backing up her words 100%. “ You’ve never done as well as that before, good job!” 

He beams at the both of you, “ do you really think so?” He asks timidly.

“Of course.” Nadia says, “ you’re my precious boy, and I’m so proud of you.” She walks over, and kisses him on the top of the head. 

“ – I tried my best.” He said proudly. 

“ That’s all I ever ask of you, hunny.” She says, running her hand through his hair and messing with it. He laughs. You smile at the two of them.

#the arcana #the arcana game #the arcana x reader #portia devorak #asra alnazar #nadia satrinava #julian devorak #julian devorak x reader #asra alnazar x reader #asra x reader #muriel x reader #muriel the arcana #portia devorak x reader #portia x reader #lucio morgasson x reader #lucio morgasson #lucio x reader #muriel of the kokhuri #nadia satrinava x reader #nadia x reader #the arcana x reader fluff #the arcana fluff #the arcana headcanons #the arcana x reader headcanons

[homeslices]

I’m Sorry

A/N: Guess who’s backkk. Sorry for taking so long again, school has been stressing me out. Also my newest hyperfixation is The Last of Us (naturally) and so I’ve decided I want to write for it tooooo. I am still writing for Alice in Borderland but writer's block kinda hit me with that (I’ll be up and writing for it soon and I have all of your requests already in mind). I realized there was very little Ellie x a maternal figure fics and decided I needed to change that.

Summary: A little pre-apocalypse the rest post-apocalypse, you comfort Ellie when she has a nightmare. Ellie may be a little ooc but I tried my best.

Pairings: platonic!Ellie Williams x motherfigure!reader, Joel Miller x wife!reader

Word Count: 1.5k

Warnings: Spoilers for season 1, mention of Sarah’s death, David, mentions of attempted SA

You have always wanted children, wanted to be a mother.

And you got that chance once before in what feels like another life.

You’re step-daughter Sarah, who you helped raise and thought of as your own, was the light of your life.

You, having recently moved to a new neighborhood, couldn’t help notice your neighbor struggling to take care of his baby daughter by himself. You could tell he was running on little to no sleep and when he about had a fit trying, and ultimately failing, to put in a car seat into the back of his truck you finally stepped in and helped him.

All of the pieces soon fell together afterward. You helped him when he needed it, babysitting Sarah when he was about to collapse from sleep deprivation, teaching him how to put in a car seat correctly, and bringing over dinner when you could tell he had a long day at work. Similarly, Joel also lent you a hand when needed as well. Fixing your car when it wouldn’t turn on, helping repair your new house, and also listing that same house when you fell in love and moved into his home with his daughter. That same daughter whose second word was mama- dada obviously being the first.

The day that Joel proposed to you was the same day that Sarah asked you to be her mom officially, by adopting her. Your wedding was when you all decided to sign the adoption papers, and you legally became not only a wife, but a mom as well.

Life was blissful. You had the family you always wanted and were the happiest you could ever be.

But then the world ended, literally.

The day of the apocalypse officially starting, was the same day that a piece of you died inside.

Your daughter died in Joel and your arms that night terrified, calling out for you and her father to make the pain stop.

It changed the both of you.

The person that brought you both together, was now gone, and all that you could do now was hold on to each other.

So when your friend Tess, your husband and you went to see Robert about the car battery, you were also roped into smuggling a young girl to another firefly base across the country.

You tried to keep her at an arm's length. Ellie reminded you so much of your Sarah, the humor, the attitude, the persistence, and you didn’t know if you got close to her and she suffered the same fate as your daughter, that you would be able to recover again.

But somehow, Ellie wormed her way into your heart, and there was no going back now. You love that girl, just as you love Sarah, and the maternal urge to protect her from any harm overwhelmed you.

So when you found out that you weren’t able to protect her from a twisted individual that wanted to do something worse than kill Ellie, it made you see something more violent than red. You could’ve burned the world down with your rage, and honestly you still could.

You blamed yourself in all honesty. Because both Joel and you were injured, Ellie wanted to protect the pair of you. In doing so she got captured and not knowing where she was, you and Joel found her only after she walked out of a burning building, covered in that monster’s blood.

As you take watch a few weeks later, your attention snaps over to Ellie as she mumbles in her sleep. You’ve been more hyperfocused on her ever since him, making a promise to both her, and yourself, that you’d never let anything like that happen again.

With a sign, you return your attention to the darkness surrounding you and the people you care about. Joel was sleeping next to you, still recovering from his injury, and Ellie was on the other side, moving and muttering every once and a while.

However, the sudden jerk of Ellie and the distressed scream she let out in her sleep immediately made you jump in surprise and scramble towards her.

Her eyes were screwed shut, eyebrows were furrowed, and her breaths were coming out in hard pants. She was terrified, you could tell, and the second her mouth parts again to let out another petrified cry you firmly, but gently, try to shake her awake.

“Ellie,” you say in a low tone. “Wake up, it’s just a dream.”

Her eyes immediately fly open, and out of fear and what seemed to be the cloud of sleep plus the threat of her nightmare still hanging over her, she flips open her knife that she recently started to sleep with and slashes it blindly towards your hand.

Realizing your mistake, you quickly pull your arm away, but not before a gash forms on your hand drawing a hiss from you.

Ellie’s eyes were no longer affected by sleep and panic, but now were filled with horror at her actions.

“I-” she chokes. “I-I’m so sorry I didn’t mean to-”

You cut off her apologizes with a gentle hush.

“Ellie it’s okay, it was an accident.”

Moving slowly, like you would with a wounded animal, you gently remove the knife from her grip, then hold her hands in your own- albeit after you wiped the blood from your hand on your pants.

“Are you alright?” You ask, scooting closer to her not in a hovering manner but more so she knows you’re there mentally, emotionally, and physically.

“I’m the one who should be asking you that. I hurt you, almost stabbed you! What kind of sick-”

You interrupt the young girl off once again.

“Ellie it was my fault I shouldn’t have woken you up like that.”

She doesn’t reply to that, instead her eyes were focused on your still bleeding hand.

“It’s not bad at all, just a flesh wound,” you try to comfort her. “Doesn’t even need stitches.”

Ellie looks away from you, however, you could hear her mumble, “but it could’ve been,” in reply to your first statement.

Raising your uninjured hand, making sure it’s in Ellie’s line of sight so she doesn’t get startled, you comfortingly rub her arm. Her body seems to relax from her tense state slightly, shoulders drooping as proof.

“I’m sorry,” she says once again, voice small and eyes glassy.

Ellie was emotionally stubborn, similar to your husband, and seeing her like this broke you. You have only seen the girl in this vulnerable position a handful of times before, and it always made you want to hold her close and never let go.

“Ellie listen to me,” You make eye contact with her, just so she can truly understand what you’re about to say. “That was not your fault. You had a nightmare and I startled you.”

You pause for a second trying to figure out how to word the next part of your reassurance.

So with a gentle voice you finally start speaking again.

“I'm going to do everything in my power to make sure nothing like that ever happens to you again and-” your voice cracks with emotion. “I’m so sorry Ellie. I’m so sorry that I wasn’t able to stop him, and I’m so sorry that I wasn’t there for you when you needed me the most.”

Her eyes that were previously glasses were now overflowing and falling down her face.

Then, in a blink of an eye, the young girl that you’ve grown to love like another daughter, crashes against you. Her face pressed against your left shoulder and her arms wrapped around you tightly as if you would make her let go. Not a chance in hell you would.

Your arms surrounded her and at this point, her body was shaking due to her tears.

Soon you heard Ellie’s muffled, shaky voice speak out.

“It wasn't your fault. It was never your fault.”

At that point your tears were falling down your face as well. Gently, you rub your hand in comforting circles on her back and sway the both of you back and forth.

Ellie’s shaking soon died down. It took some time but exhaustion finally hit her, so now she was fast asleep in your arms, snoring softly.

You let out a watery chuckle, emotions still running high, as you continued watch with Ellie in your arms.

The sun soon rises a few hours later. Joel’s eyes flicked open ready to wake up and start the day’s journey. Nevertheless by doing so, he was met with the familiar sight of his wife holding a sleeping young girl, eyes focused towards the sun in the distance, and couldn’t help the small smile that crossed over his face.

Both Joel’s and your thoughts were very similar at that moment.

You’d both do anything to keep your family safe.

#ellie williams x mom reader #ellie williams x platonic!reader #ellie williams x platonic reader #ellie williams x mom!reader #ellie tlou #joel miller x reader #joel miller x y/n #joel miller #ellie williams #tlou #the last of us #joel tlou #tlou hbo #tlou x reader #tlou x you #tlou x y/n #ellie x platonic reader #joel x reader

[weirdmarioenemies]

Name: Clawdia Koopa

Debut: Super Mario Bros.

If you’ve ever tried to take a closer look at the Mario series lore, you’ll realize one thing… it is not very consistent! Mario games are filled with little discrepancies, and of course, plenty of obscure and forgotten characters were practically retconned by the series! And of these, who has suffered a worse fate than Clawdia Koopa?

If you were a gaming fan during the 80s and 90s, you will surely remember Clawdia Koopa, the beloved and female wife of the fearsome King Koopa! She may not have shown up much, but her impact on the Mario world was felt everywhere!

Who could forget making it all the way to the end of the NES game, squaring off against the frightening Bowser himself… only to find out, he was even more scared of his wife than you were of him! As the king of the Koopas cowers before his nagging old ball & chain, Mario, who is in no committed relationship, is able to jump over their heads and grab the ax, sending them both plummeting into lava!

Though their relationship may have had a rocky start, it seems the two were still able to settle down and start a family. Just take a look at this letter Bowser sends you in Super Mario Bros. 3!

Yup, this game introduced the Koopalings, and as Nintendo made very clear, Clawdia was their mother! Not only did the game manual reiterate this fact, it also included some pretty detailed pictures of Clawdia in labor, giving birth to each of the seven! They’re a bit too graphic to reproduce here, but it’s awesome they went that far to flesh out the worldbuilding!

So, if Bowser was married, why did he keep kidnapping Princess Peach? Maybe their marriage wasn’t actually going that great? You see, if you were to 100% Super Mario World twice over, you would actually get to see a secret message written by Bowser:

It’s pretty heavy stuff, and Nintendo hid this message for only the most dedicated of Mario fans! And sure enough, things would only go downhill from here… In Hotel Mario, Bowser would build seven Koopa Hotels just to stay away from his wife, and Clawdia hasn’t been seen in any games since… All the fans who never got this message were pretty confused, wondering where Clawdia Koopa had gone… and they were even more confused with the release of Super Mario Sunshine!

This game introduced Bowser Jr., and he was supposed to be Bowser’s new child! Not only were the Koopalings not mentioned at all, but Clawdia was nowhere to be found, either! Instead, Bowser Jr. kept referring to Peach as his ‘mama’, but she turns out to not be his mother either! What’s going on? If Clawdia and Bowser really did get divorced, then where did Bowser Jr. come from?

Things got even worse when Shigeru Miyamoto was interviewed in 2012, saying “Our current story is that the seven Koopalings are not Bowser's children. Bowser's only child is Bowser Jr., and we do not know who the mother is.” When asked about Clawdia Koopa, Miyamoto ended the interview abruptly. So what’s going on here? Is there some sort of conspiracy to cover up Clawdia Koopa? Who would benefit from this, and why?

Well, it turns out the real culprit may have been right in front of us all along! Bowser actually DID remarry, and the mother of Bowser Jr. is none other than Miyamoto himself! After becoming Bowser’s wife, Miyamoto became jealous of Bowser’s ex-wife, suspecting he still had feelings for her. So Miyamoto went and changed the official story, acting like the Koopalings were never Bowser’s kids to begin with! It was quite a petty move on his part, but since Mario canon is in his hands, there was nothing we could do to stop him…

Clawdia may be gone, but I won’t let this revisionist view of history take place! Most Mario fans today have never even heard of Clawdia Koopa, and that’s sad… But I’m not afraid to say her name! This International Women’s Day, I will be changing my full legal name to Clawdia Koopa in her memory, and I hope anyone who stands with me will do the same! After all, if we let Miyamoto get away with this, who knows what he will do next? He might even try to sully the name of Morton Koopa Sr.!

#mario #mario entities #clawdia koopa #mod f boy #april fools

[pixiesndberries]

𝐁𝐞𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐢𝐟𝐮𝐥 𝐆𝐢𝐫𝐥 , 𝐫. 𝐛𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐤

; regulus black x ex wife!reader

, he truly loves his daughter and after she was born to this earth regulus couldn't be so much more happy. She was so fragile when regulus first felt her in his arms , still covered in little blood. He felt warm and comfortable around her and he instantly thought that this beautiful human would changed him.

─ you gave birth to regulus black's daughter even tho at that same moment and time you guys aren't doing as well. You aren't even going home to the house he provided for you and the family he was expecting and dreaming for. He was there living alone but your mother told you , this child isn't only yours but to regulus' too. You agreed that you should give birth to "his" house , just for the child.

The moment you saw him holding the beautiful creature you and him made together , you can see in regulus' eyes how happy he is ─ you can't help but to tear up. Like regulus believe on himself , you thought this might be a change for regulus. This man has alot of emotional baggage that you can't handle making the relationship tough to handle together , things already ended when you were two months pregnant. He begged but you thought it was enough , your suffering is enough.

Things changed as time flies by , your daughter grew up quickly. She can walk and mumble words already ─ things changed , you find someone else and regulus respected that. Deep inside for regulus of course it hurts seeing you pick up the child from his house with your new partner that isn't him. But he needs to accept the truth and left the delusions he have whenever you spend your time at his house with your kid.

, "see darling that's a star" regulus smiled pointing at the glowing star from the ceiling "a stah ?" regulus chuckled at the words of her , he can hear the exact accent from you. "yes darling a stah !" he laughs mocking the child playfully , her also laughing ─ And you watched them from afar you were peacefully waiting for your child to sleep before going home , she won't leave because of the reason ; "i don't wanna go ba- bye mama!". She don't wanna leave his father's side.

"where's mama?" regulus whispered fixing the child's hair , the child quickly looking at you and smiled. Unexpectedly she stood up and quickly walking towards you , "mama" she mumbled holding your finger with a puppy eyes "yes my love?" you replied caressing her cheeks "mama , bed please" she was asking for you to lay in the bed with her. "Oh.." you whispered , regulus was laying there as well though he didn't ask for you to lay there , your child does. "darling , mama is there ok she won't leave" regulus assured her so you don't have to lay down near him. "Bu-but mama" she looks like she was about to cry , "it's fine reggie" you replied standing up letting the child take you to the bed.

when regulus heard the name , reggie. God his soul almost left his body not hearing that for a very long time and hearing it again made him feel alot. He felt what he felt again when you called him that for the first time ; it feels like a bucket of butterflies are setten free inside his stomach , a warm feeling covering his body.

"you should go sleep now darling.." you smiled cuddling your daughter , "you too reggie" you laughed. You knew this kid would sleep only if regulus sleep ; just like before , he would only sleep if you are already asleep. "ye-yes ma'am.." he chuckled insured what he would reply , this is the delusions he was talking about - thinking this what it feels like to have a complete family with you and it feels so so good.

"goodnight darling" regulus whispered kissing his daughter's forehead , looking at him. Insider of his mind he could've said you want one too? but he felt like if he said that and say it was a joke , it would be awkward for you. You thought , he looks so gorgeous - always been gorgeous. "Goodnight reggie." You whispered and god forbid you don't know why did you even said that. Regulus proceed to pretend he didn't heard what you said , but lord he loves you so much it brings so much joy and pain to him that he couldn't just pull you for one kiss atleast.

The moment he knew you have felled asleep , "i love you." That's all he can say. He truly loves you and this child , if he could turn back time he wished he could've fixed everything. And you truly love him aswell.

#regulus black #regulus black x reader #cardigan #siruis black #harry potter hcs #harry potter #the maruaders #lily james #james potter #peter pettigrew #sirius x lupin #remus lupin #harry potter x you #jk rowling #light angst #Siruis black smut #jegulus #x reader #fanfic #pixiesndberries #draco malfoy #ron weasley #hermione granger

[iiheartstef]

Agora hills

pairing: switch!matt x famous!black!fem

summary: You and matt go to a fancy restaurant and make a really important decision, but end up in the bathroom.

Warnings: Smut, pet names (mama, ma), hair pulling, public sex. i think that’s it..?

word count: 7.7k

Authors note: Guysss my first fic, this is for @annamcdonalds67 song writing challenge😍🩶 if you pay close attention lyrics from the song happen in the fic so that’s cute. but don’t judge this is my first one, feedback is always appreciated🩷🩷 but yea i hope y’all enjoy (:

★·.·´¯`·.·★. Ⓢт𝔢𝔽𝓲𝔼. ★·.·´¯`·.·★

Mattyy🩷😍- hey mama, lemme take you out to dinner to take your mind off everything?

wife🩶- yea really need to clear my mind😭 when u need me to be ready?

Mattyy🩷😍- whenever, i’m not gonna rush you today is for u

wife🩶- thx matty i’ll text u 10 minutes before?

Mattyy🩷😍- bet. love u mama

wife🩶 loved this message

you get up and look in your closet and find the sluttiest black dress you can find and put on your black furry boots. you sit at your vanity mirror and curl your fresh silk press.

as you walk outside you see matt close his door and walk over to the passenger side.

“you look gorgeous mama, i love this dress on you” matt says as he opens his arms to hug you “thank u matty, i love ur jeans and tee” you laugh

matt hugs you then slaps then takes your ass in his big hands “stoppp matt” he laughed lightly then closed your door for you then went and got in the drivers seat.

Fast forwarding to the amazing restaurant matt took you to you guys sit down and order. “princess how are u feeling about the whole situation?” matt shifts in his seat a little “well i had some time to actually think about it and ion really give a fuck what yours or my fans think about us. now, i feel like we should come out about our relationship”

“i feel the same way. i hate that nick can’t post those cute pictures he always takes of us for the photo dumps.” matt reaches his hand to mine and holds it and you look at them because you’ve always loved his tattoos.

“me too matty, you know i value pda so much and it irritates me that i can’t embrace it as much as i want.” you sigh a little. “but if you really wanna do this you gotta understand your name is gonna be in the streets and my fans are gonna be looking at you and judging your every move”

niya looks in matt’s eyes for any type of regret or fear. “i don’t care what anybody has to say about us mama, i love u and we’re gonna make this last.” matt leans over the table to give you a ki-

all of a sudden a blonde waitress slams the plates on the table startling both of you. “aren’t you matt sturniolo? not to sound childish or anything but i love the videos you make. i actually suffer with anxiety and depression.” she claims and messes with her hair

you and matt both share a sideye. “uh thanks i appreciate the support.” she then turns her attention to you.

“oh! hello i didn’t see you there..” she says as she looks you up and down

“can you leave now. we have our food and we don’t need anything else.” matt says keeping an angry expression on his face. “um i was just being nice but ok.” she storms off

“thank you matt, i know how hard it is for you to respond to awkward shit like that.” you smile and walk to his side of the booth. “thanks mama, she was just doing too much and i didn’t like how she was looking at you”

1st pov

i kiss him and slowly lower my hand down to his bulge. “ma cmon we’re in public..” he shifts his legs

“it’s okay matty we’re in the back corner and everyone is in the club section. lemme thank you”

matt lets out a relaxed sigh as i go under the table. i unzip his pants and palm his hardness making it grow a bit in his boxers.

“fuck mama, please” i look up at his pretty face and smile while i pull down his boxers

his shaft pops out of his boxers. tip already leaking precum “you gonna be a good boy and be quiet?”

“yes mommy i’ll be a good boy, just touch me please” just when he said that i slammed my soft hand down his throbbing length hearing some gentle whimpers from matt

when he least expects it i shove all of his dick down my mouth earning a loud moan from him

i slowly take it out your mouth “matt what did i say about being quiet?”

“i’m sorry mommy it felt so good” i pull his boxer up and get from under the table to sit on his lap to straddle him

“mama please can we just go to the bathroom i need to be in you” he pleads looking in your eyes “yea cmon hurry up”

i pull his pants down and trail my tongue by his ear..down his neck..and down his arm and kiss every one of his tattoos.

“mommy please please” just as he says that i shove his dick down my throat and start bobbing up and down “ohhhh fuckkk faster mama”

just as i feel his dick twitch in your mouth he pulls out and bends me over the sink “can i?” he says as i look at him through the mirror and nod my head

then he slams his length in and me moan loudly “you like that mama?” he grunts. i nod my head not wanting to speak because of how good he feels

matt grabs my hair softly but quickly and pulls my head up so i can look in his eyes “you need to use words ma before u regret that shit” he says as he starts to go slower in pace and pulls my dress all the way up so he can cup my titties

“yes baby i love it please go faster” i beg and he smiles and kisses my lips “yes ma’am” just as he speeds up his pace there’s a knock on the door..

matt pulls out slowly and mouths to see who it is. “matt what the fuck i don’t wanna do it you do it!?” he rolls my eyes “the faster u answer it the faster we can finish.” i sigh and open the door and see the waitress from earlier

“yes?” i say opening the door which matt is behind, and not showing my bottom half of my dress which he pulls up and gently grazes my heat with his thumb

“you’ve been in there for almost 10 minutes what are you doing?!” the waitress says trying to peak in the bathroom. right as she says that matt slides in two of his long slender fingers and i sharply inhale.

“well if you don’t leave soon then i’m gonna have to kick you out. not matt tho because he isn’t in here i guess.. where is he by the way?” she smirks at me

matt speeds up his pace and adds in his tongue. “ahh.. matt.. is in the mens. restroom. can you leave him the fuckkk… alone he does NOT want you” i say slurring my words a little but trying my hardest to make it unnoticeable

i can feel matt smirking against my heat but goes faster. “ugh i didn’t want his ass anyway. you guys are both ugly. his dick is probably small too” the waitress smiles and walks off

you take a deep breath and thank god she’s gone and you slam the door shut. “fuckkk matt i’m gonna cum” matt gets up and plops you on the sink and gets back to work…

he turns you around and bends you over the sink again going at a ungodly pace while placing his hands on both sides of your ass. you feel your high just as he says “fuck mama i’m gonna cum” you lift your head making him to kiss you and he sticks his tongue down your throat then you feel him whimper which lets you know he’s close

“cmere mama take it down your throat” matt pushes you to your knees and grabs the back of your head and thrusts his dick in your throat.

“mama i’m cumming fuck fuck fuckkk” he lets out a thick load of warm cum in your mouth “swallow it all baby” he smirks and kisses you after you do.

you too walk out of the bathroom and see the waitress staring you both down “we didn’t even get to eat.” you pout “i’ll buy you chipotle on the way home mama i’m sorry”

#matt sturniolo #black reader #smut #first fic #song challenge #bwwm wmbw

[noellawrites]

“Blissful” Marriage - yandere!Billy Andrews x fem!reader

summary: your husband Billy has a surprise for your fifth wedding anniversary, but it’s not what you might think

warnings: arranged marriage mention, abusive relationship, Billy being an asshole obviously

As soon as you woke up next to your sleeping husband, you were hit with the brutal realization that today was somehow significant. As you took a deep breath, you tried to remember. It wasn't a holiday, nor was it either of your children's birthdays.

You pondered it as you prepared breakfast for your family in the quiet kitchen. The sun rose around you as you buttered toast and scrambled the eggs. Then all of a sudden, you dropped your knife with a clatter.

It was you and Billy's wedding anniversary.

It had been five years since your father handed you over to Billy Andrews, neither of you even eighteen years old when the wedding occurred.

You loved your children more than anything, but sometimes Billy felt like your third child. He had cooled down from his teenage years now with both of you in your early twenties, thankfully.

"Breakfast ready yet?" Billy asked from behind you. You hadn't even heard him come down the stairs.

You turned around, "almost, sorry."

"Hurry up, I'm hungry and the kids will be up soon," Billy sneered, grabbing the plate of bacon and taking it to the table.

Your husband sat and stared as you tried to set the table quickly. You could hear son and daughter stirring in their rooms upstairs, and you'd have to carry your daughter with you as she was only two.

"Can you finish bringing the food over, Billy? I have to get Steph," you said hurriedly.

"Isn't that your job?" he groaned.

"Billy—“

"It's my wedding anniversary, I'm not doing any work," he stated, leaving no room for discussion.

You trudged up the stairs, each step feeling more difficult than the last. You were pregnant again, around four months in. You pitied the next poor child who would suffer at the hands of Billy Andrews being their father.

"Stephie, c'mere. Mama's got you," you cooed as you lifted your little girl out of her crib.

"Mama!" she giggled, her sweet little voice bringing a smile to your face.

You heard your son, William Junior, run down the stairs ahead of you, ready to greet his father. Billy was your son's favorite person, which scared you more than anything. You didn't want to raise a mini Billy, yet he'd insisted on naming his firstborn son after him anyway.

The four of you sat down at the table, Billy pulling you down onto the bench next to him and kissing you harshly on the mouth.

"Mommy, daddy, eww!" William laughed, with Stephanie's giggle following close behind.

"You kids are going over to Aunt Priscilla's today to play with your cousins," Billy stated, placing his hand on your thigh underneath the table.

"But dad, why?" William whined, slamming his fork on the table next to his plate.

"It's your mother and I's anniversary and I have something special planned," he said, fingers inching towards your undergarments.

You were scared, but slightly aroused. Billy, though not husband of the year, was pretty good in bed. He was always more concerned with his own pleasure, but you enjoyed being close to him, making him happy. It made you feel like a good wife.

—

Billy shut the door behind his sister as she left with your kids in tow, ready to spend a fun day with their cousins.

"So, what do you have planned?" you ask, turning and smiling to your husband. He dropped his arm from around your waist and looked at you with a hardened expression.

"Get on the ground."

"Billy, what—“

"YOU HEARD ME!" he yelled, pointing his finger directly at your face.

Wordlessly, you bent down onto the floor. Your husband threw a wet, vinegary sponge at you and crossed his hands across his chest.

"These floors are disgusting and you have no excuses. The bathrooms will be next. On my anniversary of suffering through marriage with you, I at least deserve to have a clean home," Billy growled.

You looked down. It hadn't even been a full week since you did the floors, and you felt nauseous after your descent to the floor, but you blinked back your tears and went to work anyway.

You crawled around like that for hours, dodging Billy's criticisms and suffering your way through your fifth wedding anniversary.

All of a sudden, you stood up and stomped over to where your husband sat in his study.

"Billy, what did I do wrong? I know our other anniversaries hadn't been much but... at least it seemed like you'd cared for me," you frown.

"I've been too nice to you lately and I need to put you back in your place. You are my wife and therefore my property," he declared.

"Billy, I raise your kids, take care of your home and do nothing but love you," you sniffle, almost pleading with him.

"I have grown tired of you. Get out of my sight," he stated simply.

You looked into his blue eyes and saw nothing, no traces of guilt or any feelings beyond anger.

Without another word, you turned around and headed outside, going straight to your garden. You at least wanted to bring some pretty flowers into your home on your anniversary, if nothing else.

You tried not to think of that dreadful day when your freedom and innocence was stolen away five years ago, but it lingered in your mind.

#awae x reader #anne with an e x reader #anne with an e imagine #billy andrews x reader #billy andrews imagine #yandere awae x reader #dark awae x reader