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#I HAVE NOT FELT SUCH JOY IN MANY MOONS
laylanatorseventeen · 6 months
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some Stardew players: I've figured out an out of bounds glitch to get to the Perfection Summit ahead of time lmao!
Mr. Qi:
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age-of-moonknight · 9 months
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I have a question about detective flint...do you know more moon knight comics where he appears? Other than mk 2014 book...I am so weirdly obsessed with him? Or just more curious about his character...ig, he reminds me of Jim Gordon (from batman)
Also happy new year🥳
And a happy new year to you as well because !!! heck yeah, Detective Flint! He's an og from way back in Moench's run on Moon Knight volume 1! (And I'm a little obsessed with him and his very Jim Gordon-esque role too....may we someday actually learn his first name RIP). My research didn't really turn up anything more interesting than what you would normally find on the average "list of appearances" for him, but I'll list them all and then do a further break down after the cut to help delineate where he actually affects the plot versus where he just provides a little exposition, if that's something anyone's interested in. Happy reading!
Moon Knight (Vol. 1/1980), #12, #15, #17, #24-25, #33-34, #36-37
[Bonus] Daredevil (Vol. 1/1964), #218
Moon Knight (Vol. 2/1985), #3
Moon Knight (Vol. 3.1998), #3-4
Moon Knight (Vol. 4/1999), #1, #3
Moon Knight (Vol. 5/2006), #8, #13, #17, #20
Moon Knight (Vol. 7/2014), #1, #3, #6, #8, #12, #14
Moon Knight (Vol. 9/2021), #8, #22, #24
Moon Knight: Black, White & Blood (Vol. 1/2023), #3
Moon Knight (Vol. 1/1980), #12: Detective Flint's introduction (and where we learn he likes cream, sugar, and a cigarette with his coffee)
Moon Knight (Vol. 1/1980), #15: Moon Knight and Detective Flint's professional relationship gets a bit of a rocky start when Flint accuses MK of attempted assassination
Moon Knight (Vol. 1/1980), #17, #24: Some one page appearances to provide exposition I mean consultations (although the incident with the bag of potato chips in #24 is definitely worth the price of admission imo, another instance of “comics are why my sense of humor is broken”)
Moon Knight (Vol. 1/1980), ##25: Flint gets stuck between a rock and a hard place in the whole deal with Black Spectre's corrupt machinations
Moon Knight (Vol. 1/1980), #33: Appears in a couple panels to crack wise about the futility of trying to stop Moon Knight when he's put his mind to something
Moon Knight (Vol. 1/1980), #34, #36: Provides some exposition and makes some collars
Moon Knight (Vol. 1/1980), #37: Detective Flint may or may not have been the only thing keeping Marc from dropping an anti-Semitic arsonist out of a window (...I'll keep my opinions to myself)
Daredevil (Vol. 1/1964), #218: This one's a fun little cameo (at least to me, since I hadn't seen it before), where he pops up with Scarfe too
Moon Knight (Vol. 2/1985), #3: Fittingly, they bring Lt. Flint back for a Morpheus case, since those two characters were introduced in the same issue
Moon Knight (Vol. 3/1998), #3-4: Does his thing of providing a couple pages worth of exposition
Moon Knight (Vol. 4/1999), #1, #3: Flint provides as much info as he can, but he's just about as confused as everyone else in this volume (and for good reason, it's wild hahaha)
Moon Knight (Vol. 5/2006), #8: Catches MK up to speed on the new Midnight Man (in the very, very gloomy and fatalistic manner that is characteristic of the Huston run)
Moon Knight (Vol. 5/2006), #13, #17: Flint catches all the cases from when MK was running around carving crescents into criminals' foreheads and isn't particularly happy about it (understandably so, what a run)
Moon Knight (Vol. 5/2006), #20: We follow Flint on the opening investigation into the issue’s “monster of the week” (also includes one of my favorite “dropping in to chat with the series’ cop buddy” panels)
[Anon indicated that they’ve already read Moon Knight (Vol. 7/2014), but if anyone else wants me to break down Flint’s appearances in those issues, please just let me know! :D]
Moon Knight (Vol. 9/2021), #8: Flint does his usual exposition thing for Hunter’s Moon while MK is “indisposed”
Moon Knight (Vol. 9/2021), #22: Flint and Tigra share a page swapping info (both on the new Midnight Man and o MK’s delightful peculiarities)
Moon Knight (Vol. 9/2021), #24: On the scene during the most recent Morpheus incident
Moon Knight: Black, White & Blood (Vol. 1/2022), #3: Shows up at the end of the first story, “Wrong Turn,” to make some arrests and comment on Jake’s thoroughness in wrecking his taxi
Oh! Also, this isn't from a Moon Knight comic, but apparently Warren Ellis included a Detective Flint in the Earth-555 comic, Newuniversal: Shockfront (Vol. 1/2008), issues #1-2. Flint doesn't exactly play a huge role (and I read those individual comics with absolutely no context so I was a little ????), but I had never expected there to be any non-616 versions of Flint out there, so this was cool to find for me at least. Just a fun bit of trivia hahaha
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swordgrace · 1 month
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𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐎𝐋𝐅 𝐇𝐄𝐄𝐃𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐃𝐑𝐀𝐆𝐎𝐍.
⠀ཾ༵ 𑁍┆ cregan stark x fem!targtower!reader.
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SYNOPSIS: a blissful marriage to an honorable man — it is more than you could’ve asked for. with the heir on the way, you make a request of your husband.
anonymous request. unofficial sequel to wolfsblood, dragonsblood.
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{ FORMAT: one-shot — requested by anonymous.
{ WORD COUNT: 6.1K.
{ WARNINGS: SMUT (mdni), overprotective cregan, reader is pretty horny for cregan (valid), pregnancy, reader is pregnant, sexual activities while pregnant, cregan is a father in his mind, oral sex (fem!rec), cunnilingus, cregan loves munching, vaginal fingering, teasing, biting, hair-pulling kink, obvious size difference + size kink, slight face-riding, lots of cregan admiring in this one-shot, very soft ending + aftercare
{ AUTHOR’S NOTE: I love writing for Cregan so much, y’all don’t understand the depths of my adoration for him. I churned this out pretty quickly, but I loved writing it, Father Cregan is the best! I hope that you all enjoy, & thank you for your support! ❤️
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𝐂𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐩, 𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐢𝐫 𝐟𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐥𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐬, 𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐠𝐞𝐝 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐥𝐞𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐢𝐜𝐞, 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐡𝐨𝐰𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐍𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐧 𝐦𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐬.
It was easier to breathe, you’d realized — King’s Landing had always been so stifling and pungent, the population too thick, the air acrid. Here, in the North, it was sprawling with open spaces, regions of untouched forest and unsettled countryside.
The bite of the harsh, Northern chill was not an easy adjustment to make after a lengthy life spent in Southern regions — the gnawing wind often seared your extremities, and it was not any easier on Silverwing. Fire ran through your veins, tempered by your tender heart and kindly disposition.
Your beloved husband would not have it any other way.
What had started as an unsteady, tumultuous betrothal marked by obvious bitterness from your family and wariness from his own House, had blossomed into a fruitful union. You couldn’t have asked for a better partner, and it made you realize how fortunate you were.
Snow was uncommon in most of the South, yet it remained constant in the North, mountains blanketed in endless horizons of white. It was a particularly icy day, winter winds stinging your cheeks, prickling your flesh with its pinpricks.
Mounds of pale, grayish fur swaddled your form, lined in the finest fleece, downy and plush against your skin. The trodden path to the Godswood was marked by frozen dirt, dusted over with a fresh layer of snowfall. Sprinkles of crystalline drops fell from the cloudy skies, and your breath emerged in hot wisps of air.
Lilac hues drifted toward the mountainous form of your husband, whose back was turned to you, swathed in the dappled pelt of a direwolf. Ice hung from his shoulder, a massive longsword of Valyrian Steel, an heirloom passed down through generations of House Stark.
Someday soon, it will pass to your firstborn son.
You recalled the night that you were wed, beneath the crimson leaves of the Weirwood Tree. It was serene, a moonlit dusk that struck the snow with an ethereal glow, your hands bound as you recanted your vows. It had been some moons now since that day, and you had only felt joy since then.
Cregan listened to the light crunch of snow beneath your footfalls as they reverberated throughout the Godswood, the pond frozen-over with a layer of ice. Pale bark marked with a foreign face peered back at him — this was a place that he and Rickon visited many times.
Before his little brother had passed, they pretended to fight wars here, forge their weapons, sticks found from the forest floor, and envision themselves as Knights. He could still feel his brother sometimes, his presence a whisper in the blood-red leaves, somewhere within the forest’s song.
Religion was a complicated thing for you. Your mother wielded the Faith of the Seven like a crudely-worn shortsword, letting it strike to her advantage even when it was rusty, at best. You had little interest in it, and Cregan seemed to respect your growing distance from your old roots. The Old Gods were his — you had nothing.
Inklings of snow drifted from the pale skies, growing darker as evening approached. The North became unyieldingly harsh after the sun began to wane, the sting of biting wind swirling around you, seeping into your bones. You were rather cold, but persisted for Cregan.
“Ser Rodrick said that I might find you here,” Silence dissipated, filled with the sound of your voice, as soft as feathers, a soothing balm. You stepped closer, beneath the boughs of the great tree, the canopy thick with vermillion leaves. “How are you faring?”
With Winter approaching, spreading its cold, brittle tendrils across the North, Cregan’s duties had increased tenfold. Preparing his people for winter, ensuring that food was plentiful, that they were safe — it was the burden of leadership, but there was no one better suited for it in your eyes.
“Well enough,” Cregan murmured, storm-colored hues drifting over the Weirwood tree before they turned to you, completely and utterly transfixed. You stole every wisp of air from his lungs with your beauty, clad in the trappings of his people. “I apologize for running off.”
An amiable smile crossed your features as you reached for your husband, slipping a gloved palm against the crook of his arm. “You needn’t apologize, husband. You are owed your solitude, and I wouldn’t dare tell you otherwise.” You have his bicep a gentle squeeze.
Cregan’s gaze softened, sparkling with a warmth reserved only for you, his beloved. Your presence always seemed to melt away his hardened exterior, but he much preferred it that way. He stepped closer, towering above you in all of his indomitable glory, craning down to press a kiss against your brow.
The gloved leather of his hand moved to cup your abdomen, and the growing life within. The joyous news of your pregnancy had been the talk of the North, the new Lady Stark, preparing to birth an heir of Winterfell. Those thick furs you wore obscured your belly quite well.
“I should be asking you how you fare, carrying our child,” Cregan insisted, gingerly caressing around your stomach with the pride of a doting husband. “Here you are, walking all this way to the Godswood, when it is I who should be by your side.” If there was one word to describe Cregan, it was overprotective.
Gods, he was attentive — if he did leave your side, he ensured that you were well looked-after, under the watchful protection of his guardsmen. You couldn’t fault your husband for his safeguarding nature, given that it was to be your firstborn.
Sometimes he forgot that you were a dragon-rider.
“Being beneath the open sky has done me a world of good, husband,” You mused, canting your head to one side. You were not completely round and waddling just yet — halfway through, as the Maester stated. “I cannot stand to look at that dreadful cobblestone for days on-end.”
Cregan did not protest, nor invalidate your claims. He was not the one carrying a child — he did not have a right to speak on behalf of you. A shiver rolled down your spine, due to the bitter chill of the wind, coupled with the encroaching snowfall.
Instead, he reached for your jaw, cupping your face within the roughened texture of his leather-clad palm, presenting you with a kiss. It was kept brief, yet the ardor lingered, as strong as a burning flame. “You are shivering, beloved. Let us return to the Keep.” He rumbled, shielding you beneath his cloak.
A respite from the cold would be welcome. Even if you possessed the blood of the Dragon, you did not fare well in such blisteringly glacial conditions. The thick cover of your husband’s cloak brought a sense of comfort, coupled with the natural heat that radiated from him.
Snow crunched beneath his heavy footfalls, your own masked by his boots. Cregan made sure to guide you every step of the way, hovering with his impressive shadow. “I have been contemplating a name for our child.” You spoke softly, a smile toying upon your lips.
“Have you?” Cregan appeared appeased, a stoic smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “You don’t know if we are to have a son or a daughter.” He remarked, letting your hand wrap around the bulk of his forearm, guiding you through the Godswood.
“Perhaps not, but I wanted you to hear,” Such ideas had been stirring around within your mind for weeks, and with Cregan so preoccupied, you hadn’t broached the topic of conversation. “Gilliane, after your mother, should we have a daughter, and … Rickon.” You hesitated. “Should we have a son.”
Cregan’s steps began to slow, and he looked upon you with such love and devotion that it was nearly overwhelming. He couldn’t have loved you anymore if he tried — and he had tried. Towering over you, he pressed a kiss against the top of your head, one that blossomed with fondness.
You gave him the greatest honor of all — that of fatherhood, and now, you had bestowed upon him sentimental names, those of his family. Love flourished within his storm-colored hues, and he seemed to soften at your words. “You would honor me beyond words, wife. Do you not wish to pay tribute to your own family?”
Placing a hand over the growing swell of your stomach, you seemed somewhat indifferent to talk of your family. Helaena and Daeron were the exceptions in this, but it did not pain you any less. “I pay tribute by carrying our child,” You replied, your smile threadbare. “That is enough.”
Solemn, Cregan simply nodded, understanding your strained relationship with the family you had left behind in King’s Landing. From what you told him and from what he discerned, you seemed much happier here, liberated and free of such poisonous clutches. “Of course.” A soft rumble reverberated throughout his chest.
Winterfell’s snow-laden gates were now within reach, as guards in Stark tabards harkened the return of its Lord and Lady. He thoroughly enjoyed watching you interact with the denizens underneath his protection — you often greeted them with smiles and laughter.
He watched you grow into your station as Lady Stark, a growth that showed such promise. You had been shy around Northerners at first, but you now walked as if you had been in Winterfell your whole life. Cregan kept you close, his stance that of a protective husband, hovering above you with his hulking stature.
The Keep was close, and you could feel the crackling warmth of the hearth lick across your skin in the forefront of your mind. Cregan was characteristically stalwart, keeping you wedged against his side, swaddled in the thick furs of the direwolf.
Once inside, you welcomed the gust of warmer air. The Keep burned many fires and braziers when winter became sharp and bitter, your cheeks stinging from the cold. “Shall we retire this evening, or are you lacking in nourishment?” Cregan inquired, knowing that your penchant for foodstuffs had increased while pregnant.
“Could something be brought to our chambers? Perhaps a stew or a broth, that sounds rather warming.” As if on-queue, your stomach lurched with inklings of famish, as if your child also demanded something to eat.
“It will be done,” With his stoic assurance, your husband bent down to press a kiss against your temple, smoothing a palm across your back. “I will join you shortly, wife.” Cregan had a tendency to walk the Keep before retiring — spare a word to the guards, those in the kitchens, and anyone underneath his care.
“Do not keep me waiting for too long.” You mused, lips curving into a warm smile that could melt even the hardiest of ice — including that of your husband. The vulnerability that seemed to come to him in your presence was a comforting thing.
With a soft huff, Cregan cupped your chin, looking upon you with tempestuous hues, as gray as a winter’s storm. “I wouldn’t dare.” He assured, presenting you with a tender kiss. Gods, you had sorely missed his mouth in many ways, and you were swift to reciprocate.
After you had become with-child, fuller and round with the heir to Winterfell, you had not engaged Cregan as much in terms of intimacy. He wanted you to relax, to not have to lift a finger. You missed your husband in more ways than one, giving way to your own basic desires and carnal instincts.
The kiss possessed a charged edge, tension looming above, the fringes of it seeping into your lips. You held onto his forearm, an audible sigh slipping past your mouth when Cregan withdrew. He could detect your yearning — the sentiment was a mutual one, but he feared hurting you, as any man would.
With a gentle hum, you allowed your husband to leave you, watching as his impressive form encapsulated all space within the corridor he walked in. You let him tend to his duties, and you made for the spiraling stairwell, making your way to your chambers without a hitch.
Thick, wooden doors gave way to the sanctuary within, the hearth being stoked and tended-to by one of the servants. “I thought you might want it warm, m’lady.” She mused, having laid out a series of new wardrobes for you across the foot of your bed.
“Thank you, Tanea.” The new gowns and dresses seemed to be made with your new specifications in-mind, accommodating for your growing belly. Part of you felt self-conscious when it came to your pregnancy — you no longer seemed to fit into your own skin.
“You must be excited, with the babe on the way,” Tanea was easy to speak with, an exuberant young woman with cherubic features. “Your Lord-Husband certainly is.” She chimed, finishing with the hearth as she moved about.
“Is he?” Cregan was sometimes difficult to read, countenance permanently etched with that stoic Northern scowl of his, but you knew how happy he was. Knowing that your servants could see it filled you with delight. “I may need your assistance, Tanea.”
“Very much so, m’lady. He speaks as if he is a father already,” She fluttered to your side, assisting you in relinquishing the weight of your fur cloak and overcoat you wore. Tanea arranged the garments back into the large, wooden wardrobe. “Do you need anything else?”
“I do not,” You smiled, moving to sit atop the fur-laden footlocker at the end of your shared bed. “You have my gratitude, Tanea.” The girl curtsied, a proper gesture, before making her way from your chambers.
Intrigued, you happened to admire the new gowns strewn across your bed, many of them styled in the Northern way of dress, save for your evening shifts. One in particular caught your eye, made of sage-hued silk, translucent and frilly, the sleeves billowing.
Pinching the fabric between your fingers, you decided on wearing it to bed, pushing yourself up right as you organized the rest elsewhere, into the space of your wardrobe. Heavy footfalls resonated outside of your door, with it creaking open to give way to Cregan.
Your mountain of a husband carried two bowls of steaming stew, placing them down along the small, rounded table. The intricate carving of a wolf rested along the table’s edge, made of wood from the Wolfswood. “Are you tired?” He inquired, removing Ice from his shoulders, scabbard and all, placing it near his bedside.
After you had become with-child, he kept it close, in case of any unsightly, dire circumstances. He would not ever allow himself to be defenseless in your presence. You had thought it to be somewhat overly cautious, but you did not dissuade him otherwise.
“Not really,” You hummed, reaching for the many pins keeping your braids in-place. You removed them one by one, placing the ruby-studded needles upon your vanity. It felt better to let your hair down, pale tresses cascading across your shoulders in soft waves. “I am perfectly awake.”
Cregan’s visage was one of clear appreciation and adoration as he stepped closer, admiring the way you looked. “You are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen.” He insisted, hands moving to assist you in unlacing your dress. This was a common practice with each passing night — you enjoyed it.
Warmth crept along your features as you stood still, allowing him to untie your bodice with his calloused fingers, until the garment loosened. “You are much too kind, husband.” Stepping from your gown, you were left in a white slip, one that had grown somewhat uncomfortable with its tightness.
“It is not a kindness, but the plain truth.” Cregan replied, pressing a kiss against the pale crown of your head, inhaling a gust of your saccharine scent. “You are my beautiful wife.” He affirmed with a grunt, and moved away to change into his own smallclothes. Abandoning his leather and armor always felt unusual for him.
There was no debating your husband, whose stubbornness was sometimes renowned. Instead, you smiled, abandoning the snug, ivory fabric for your field of sage, hastily pulling it on over the swell of your stomach.
It gave you ample time to observe Cregan, whose musculature ensnared you time and time again. He was impressively thick, broad-shouldered and built like the Wall itself. Seeing him standing there in just his trousers made something hot stir between your legs.
You crept forward, shamelessly wrapping your arms around him from behind, and you could feel a tremor throughout his body when he huffed. “I have a handsome husband, a perfect husband — and that is the plain truth.” You hummed, cold cheek burying itself against the warmth of his skin.
Wordlessly, you peppered soft kisses against his spine, and to any scars and bruises that you could see. You listened to the sharp exhale from your husband, who did not protest your actions. Your lips felt like the kiss of snow, still cold from the chilly outdoors.
Cregan let you stay that way, and in-truth, he enjoyed it thoroughly. Those large, calloused hands placed themselves atop yours, lifting both to his lips as he kissed your knuckles. He let them drop, and you caressed him wherever you could. The gesture was soft, but he couldn’t deny the growing sensuality present between you both.
“For the blood of the dragon, your hands run cold, wife.” Cregan rumbled, soothingly tracing his fingers across your wrist, feeling your physique against his back, including the swell of your belly. You pressed your palms against his abdomen, able to feel the taut, subtle muscle there.
“It is a good thing that I have you to warm them,” The silky, soft resonance of your voice brought him comfort. You sounded so relaxed and blissful, feeling him sluggishly turn around within your hold. Cregan cupped your cheek, rough pad of his thumb tracing across your lips. You kissed his thumb. “Kiss me.”
Cregan’s lips twitched into the ghost of a smile, and he instead gestured to the meal he’d brought with him. “Once you eat and have proper sustenance, I might indulge you then, beloved.” He mused, noticing the twinge of disappointment on your face.
“Might?” There was an upward inflection within your tone, as if the mere suggestion of might had offended you to some degree. Your burly husband then caged you within his embrace, palms soothingly caressing along your hips. “Must you insist on tormenting me?” You teased.
With a low grunt, Cregan reached for his tunic, eyes twinkling with mirth. “For now.” Tugging on the dark blue linen of his nightshirt, he gestured for you to eat, sitting beside you at the table. His own chair groaned in protest, and before he knew it, you were devouring your stew.
A mouthful of warm, seasoned broth filled your maw, accompanied with hearty chunks of venison and stewed vegetables. The cuisine in the North differed greatly from the South, not that you minded. You often felt more fulfilled after meals than you used to.
“Gods, that was wonderful,” You groaned, the stew satisfying your cravings. It warmed you to the bone, causing a shudder to roll down your spine as you finished, nudging the bowl aside. “I could eat several servings of that.” Your confession prompted Cregan to smirk.
“Famished, were you?” Cregan mused, watching as you moved out of your chair, cradling your stomach with one hand. He very nearly rushed to assist you, but he knew you would’ve swatted him aside.
“Quite, but I am eating for two. Your child needs it as much as I do,” You remarked, wandering toward the hearth as you extended one palm toward the fire. The comforting heat licked across your flesh, the orange light dancing over your features. “Much better.”
Cregan joined you not long after, guiding you to sit atop the large footlocker at the end of your marital bed, closest to the open flames. His rough fingertips glided over the plane of sage-hued silks, as he admired your womanly form through the fabric. “This suits you.” He rumbled, gently tugging on the silk to accentuate his point.
“Tanea had the seamstress craft me new clothing, given that I’ve grown quite a bit,” Admittedly, you felt some insecurity in your current state, afraid that your husband may not enjoy you as he once had. “I am glad that you like it, husband. I was worried that you wouldn’t.”
Perplexed, chestnut brows furrowed together, his countenance one of clear concern. Slipping an arm behind you, he calmly stroked your side, silently beseeching you to tell him of your worries. He knew what it pertained to, even if it was left unspoken. “Your worries are misplaced. I love you.” He assured.
“It isn’t just that, I — I suppose I feared that you wouldn’t still enjoy me this way. Most husbands in the capital seemed so disinterested when their wives began to show.” This wasn’t the South, and Cregan was as far from a disinterested husband as one could get. He kissed your jaw, letting you rest against him.
“You are carrying our child, the heir to Winterfell — I would continue to love you regardless of what your body might look like. Damn the Southerners,” Cregan murmured, planting a hand atop your belly. “I look at you and I see my wife — I see perfection. My heart calls your name.” For a man so rugged and rough, his words made your blood surge with exhilaration.
Joining his hand, you placed your palm atop his, the one firmly perched against your belly. If Cregan were being truthful with himself, he found you to be painfully beautiful like this, swollen with his child, knowing that he put a pup in you. Those lascivious fantasies had now become reality.
“Ñuha dōna zokla,” My sweet wolf — your High Valyrian often brought him to heel, bringing out the siren’s lull within your voice. Cregan had made a valiant effort to learn some of the language for you, but it never sounded as pleasant on his Northern tongue. “I am yours.” You beamed, lilac hues glistening with ardor.
Bringing a calloused palm to your face, he traced the fine plane of your cheekbone, reveling in the velveteen texture of your flesh. A wolf, brought to heel at his dragon’s side. Cregan studied your Valyrian features, basking in your beauty, coaxing you in for a kiss.
Your mouth was disarmingly soft, catching him off-guard, stealing away all of his coherency. He felt you turn inward, palm planting itself against the thick, corded muscle of his thigh, gripping him tightly as he deepened your kiss.
Something warm stirred within him, a longing to feel your body against his, able to detect the hitch within your breath as he drew you closer. Your wanton need radiated from you in thick, permeating waves, enough to bring him into the intricate web of your desire.
“Easy, wife.” Cregan rumbled, wanting to temper your carnality before it raged into that of a dragon’s flame. Your pleading gaze suggested otherwise, prompting him to caress along the length of your spine. “I do not wish to hurt you.”
A begrudging sigh escaped your lips as you incessantly tugged at his tunic, staring at your husband with furrowed brows. “You wouldn’t,” You uttered, tracing your fingers over his heart. “We do not have to commit the entire act. I simply want to enjoy you in other ways — I miss it.”
Subtlety wasn’t your strongest suit, and Cregan knew this. Arousal stirred within him, cock twitching at your lascivious insinuations. “Hm,” A soft growl left him, one that seemed to share your sentiments. “Is that what my lady commands of me?” He murmured, holding you close.
“She does,” You hummed, treating him to a playful smile as you reached for his chestnut tresses. One of your hands slithered beneath his tunic, feeling along the solid, thick muscle of his abdomen. He stroked at your belly, a stern hum reverberating within his throat. “Gods, I need you.” You exhaled.
With your need laid bare, Cregan heeded you with a fire swirling within his gut. His hand dipped down to the apex of your thighs, pushing beneath your silken shift until he found your cunt. Gods, you were wet already, a tantalizing thing, one that he found delight in.
“You are warm already, beloved.” Cregan’s thunderous timbre raked down your spine, effortlessly gaining your subservience with ease. You shivered, feeling his thick fingers deftly caress across your slit, teasing and toying with you, gathering your slick.
Feather-light touches would have to suffice as Cregan lazily pressed one digit against your clit. His mouth found the slender expanse of your neck, delivering hot, passionate kisses against your throat.
A simpering whine tore past your parted lips, one filled with such urgency as you shifted closer, writhing against the sensation of his hand. Any lick of friction would do, consuming your body with its amatory heat. He grunted into the hollow of your throat, kissing you wherever you could.
Your own mouth found the impressive bulk of his shoulder, seeking to bring your teeth into his flesh. A sonorous, rumbling grunt left your husband when you bit him, leaving behind the crescent marks of your teeth. If it weren’t for your pregnancy, he would’ve marked you in this way, too.
Seeking the softness of your mouth, Cregan’s mouth twitched into a threadbare smirk as he kissed you hard, letting it linger as his hand withdrew from your skirts. A groan of disappointment left you, but he intended on making up for it fully.
He moved off of the footlocker, planting a lasting kiss against your brow. Towering over you, Cregan’s shadow eclipsed most flickers of firelight, gray hues swirling with warmth as he bent the knee to you, his beloved. It was a mesmerizing sight, one that you reveled in.
His massive musculature bullied its way between your thighs, warm palms shifting to caress along your legs, from ankle to calf. He had never seen someone as resplendent as you, breathtakingly beautiful, the blood of the dragon, his wife.
Gathering your skirts within your hands, you fisted the silks, dragging them up until they pooled around your hips. Warm lips embraced the crook of your knee, peppering kisses across your leg, until he reached the velvet flesh of your inner thighs.
Your hips began to tilt forward, seeking the pleasant heat of his mouth, a heat that he gladly granted you time and time again. Cregan kissed his way to the slick warmth between your legs, a thunderous exhale escaping him, chest vibrating with a grunt.
Cregan gingerly adjusted your position, letting your legs rest against his broad shoulders, your back sloped against the furs and footboard of your bed. He pressed a kiss against your mound, nose buried near your pelvis before he made his descent.
A warm lap of his tongue dragged itself over your core, like hot embers raking across your cunt. You sighed, blissfully succumbing to wanton desire, reaching for his crown of chestnut tresses, gripping at the back of his skull. “Cregan.” You whined, head rolling forward just a bit.
Pale waves framed your face, countenance contorted into an expression of sheer and utter bliss, brows furrowing together. Your husband happily found his solace between your legs, mouth pressing hot kisses across your cunt. His hand gripped at your haunch, the other trailing against your leg.
It was ambrosial, your taste; a finest stout, sweetest of nectars that stained his lips with your perfection. Cregan lapped at your cunt, dutiful and attentive, ensuring to find every spot that made you gasp for air.
Nimble digits fisted into the furs at your side, mouth agape as a myriad of throaty moans escaped you. Your hand roamed through his tresses, tugging and pulling whenever his tongue graced the pearl of your cunt.
Splitting past your folds, Cregan tasted every inch of you, tongue seeking your cunt with a fervor. He was vigorous in his ministrations, not shying away from consuming every drop of your arousal. His nose brushed against your mound, hands kneading into your thighs to reassure you, let you know that he had you.
Any inkling of roughness had dissipated from him in the wake of your pregnancy, replaced with a passionate devotion, a rapture reserved only for you. His strong hands held you close, caressing you wherever he could.
You tasted sweet upon his tongue, honey-thick and a feast to sate his appetite. If he would choose his fate, it would be in between your legs, listening to the myriad of moans and throaty whimpers leave you. It was satisfying to know how much you enjoyed this; derived pleasure from it.
A tremor gripped your legs, little spasms of delight making their way throughout your body. Cregan’s mouth forged a blazing path from the hood of your cunt to your entrance, tongue greedy and hot, before he went back up again, seeking your sensitive pearl.
“Cregan!” Gods, he brought you such pleasure, a pleasure that seemed to seep into your very bones, sate your endless yearning, for now. Your legs curled inward, tight atop his shoulders as you rocked yourself into his mouth, doing little to suppress the volume of your moans.
He pressed closer with a wolf’s appetite, throat burning with carnal hunger as he continued to lap at your slick cunt. Your arousal felt honey-thick upon his tongue, something reserved only for him, chin glistening with your nectar. Your legs squeezed at his head, and he knew that he pleasured you well.
Molten heat churned within the pit of your stomach, a sensation that you had been longing to feel again. Cregan did not relent, yet he happened to slow just enough to savor you, dragging his tongue toward that clutch of nerves at the hood of your cunt.
As soon as he pursed his lips around your clit, you nearly forgot your own name, thoughts completely derailed, scattered into a blissful abyss. Your body reacted with shivers and tremors, hand gripping at the nape of his neck with a reckless abandon.
Your back arched slightly, collarbone glittering with perspiration through the thick, warm haze of your chambers. The hearth had brought about a feverish heat, coupled with the throes of your intimate entanglement. Cregan derived satisfaction from your pleasure, delighted to please his wife.
Pliant flesh filled his palm as he cupped your derrière, bringing you closer, letting you grind yourself against his mouth, use him and take whatever you needed. A grunt stirred within his chest, reverberating within his throat as he went about seeking your clit, suckling on the pearl of your cunt.
“Oh Gods,” You moaned, nearly clasping a hand over your mouth to hide the salaciousness of your voice. Surely, the servants had heard you by now — you would be fortunate if all of Winterfell didn’t hear you. “I — I’m close!” Rocking forward again, you let out a whimper.
With a strangled whine, you desperately chased after your release, one that you had sorely needed. Cregan’s cock twitched at the sound of your delicious moans, a shudder rolling down his spine whenever you whimpered his name. “That’s it,” He rumbled, hot breath fanning over your core. “Go on.” His encouragement was softly spoken through his Northern timbre.
He wanted to stay there, rooted between your legs, mouth consuming your cunt as if it were his last meal; a man wrought with starvation.
Cregan favored it, thoroughly reveling in the way your body reacted to him, visceral and ecstatic. He gingerly suckled on your clit, feeling your fingers tighten within his chestnut locks, gripping him tight. He wanted you to have your release, built upon this pent-up feeling.
He could feel your encroaching release, feel the tension in your grasp, the way you let your hips continue to lurch forward. Without relenting, Cregan continued to suck at your clit, letting it intermingle with hot laps of his tongue, dutiful and fervent between your legs.
A comfortable silence filled the gap between you, intermingled with the sounds of your pleasured cries and Cregan’s sonorous grunts. That heated coil within your stomach began to unfurl, bringing an onslaught of arousal with it as you bucked into his mouth.
At last, your peak consumed you in a white-hot oblivion, and you very nearly saw the stars themselves. With a strangled gasp, your legs tightened on either side of his head, followed by a blissful rush of liquid heat. Your grip began to slack upon his tresses, chest heaving from exertion.
Cregan lingered there for a few moments more, tongue caressing your cunt, cleaning up any last drop of your nectar. His mouth glistened with it when he did inevitably withdraw, lashing across his lips before he kissed your thighs, showering you in affection.
“Do you feel better?” He mused, kissing the crook of your knee before standing to his feet. You were positively hot, feeling a feverish warmth crawl across your skin, thighs shaking in the aftermath. You hastily adjusted your slip, regarding him with a gracious expression.
“Very much,” Your confession made him smirk as he helped you into bed, abandoning his tunic at the iron-wrought foot. As he settled down, you joined him, curled within the space at his side. “Would you like me to return the favor?”
Cregan never expected you to do anything that you didn’t want to — never feel obligated, either. He would survive without a night of release. “Tomorrow, perhaps.” He murmured, moving to rest a hand against the swell of your stomach, caressing your growing bump.
“Thank you, husband — for everything.” A gentle hum left you as you placed your hand over his, allowing him to protectively cradle your stomach. You let your head rest against his shoulder, his arm holding you at his side.
A bemused huff escaped him as he peered at you with mirthful hues, gray eyes that resembled a thunderstorm. “You needn’t thank me,” He assured, briefly pressing a kiss to your temple. “You needn’t ask for it, either.” Cregan enjoyed the taste of your cunt more than anything else.
You couldn’t help but smile, sheepishly moving to press a kiss against his jaw. “I love you,” You sighed, letting your ardor for him be known as you felt your eyes grow heavy. “Tomorrow, I would like for us to see Silverwing. She grows lonely in my absence.”
Cregan knew how much the creature meant to you. He had met Silverwing before, but he dared not climb upon her back — you’d asked it of him several times before. “Of course, beloved.” He murmured, basking in the heat of the firelight.
A sharp, fluttering sensation blossomed throughout your abdomen, prompting you to gasp. It was sudden and unexpected, but not painful. It was foreign, and had been happening on rare occasions.
“What is it?” Cregan questioned, visibly concerned before you dismissed it with a bright, delighted smile. You gently guided his hand elsewhere atop your stomach, pale brows furrowing together as you searched for the source.
“There,” You mused, joyous laughter escaping you as another kick fluttered against your joined hands. “Do you feel it?” It was heartwarming to watch the happiness glisten within his eyes, the way in which he adjusted his position to truly feel. Cregan’s true smiles were a rarity, and you saw it now.
The blood of the wolf and the dragon stirred within, prompting you to smile appreciatively at your husband. This was something the both of you had made with your love, the heir to Winterfell. “They seem strong,” Cregan remarked, leaning over to plant a kiss against your brow. “Perfect, just like their mother.”
His hand never left your belly, even as he maneuvered the furs over the both of you, letting you move to lay against the warm expanse of his chest. Cregan exhaled, staring into the dying embers of the heart, tracing his digits along the swell of your stomach.
“Strong, just like their father.” You whispered, pressing a kiss against his jaw before you settled down for slumber, shielded by the protective grasp of your Lord-husband.
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2K notes · View notes
targaryen-dynasty · 4 months
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DEEP DEVOTION.
Daemon Targaryen x pregnant!Targaryen!Reader
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WARNINGS: SEXUAL CONTENT - MDNI; canon typical incest/targcest (implied), p in v, oral (fem receiving), cockwarming, pregnant sex, lactating, lactation kink
WORDS: 2.5 K
NOTES: Sorry, I love deleting and editing older stuff. This is an oldie - use it to prepare for my Cregan lactation kink stuff. 😌
✖️ 𝐚𝐝𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐲 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭!
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If there’s something you admire about your husband it’s that he has always been a generous lover. It’s his ample experience that truly pays off whenever you two are staying in bed – or somewhere entirely else – solely depending on where the burning desire overcomes you both. 
And that desire is the main reason he’s put a child in you just shy of three moons after your bedding ceremony.
Wild and exciting are terms you’d use to describe you both indulging in the pleasures of flesh. He’s just a little too rough, and always borderlining between being unbelievably good and almost too much – that was, until he has learned you are carrying his babe. 
Where he has taken you like a common whore before, he now takes his time with you; one of his large hands splayed on your growing stomach while he insists on taking you in no other position than on your back with him between your parted legs. 
Sometimes you manage to sweet-talk him into allowing you to sit astride him, coaxing him to give in with the sweetest praises and offers falling past your lips in the tongue of your ancestors, but even then, his hands always rest on your hips for him to guide your movements and set the pace.
And this night is no different. 
You’ve just recently crossed the six moon mark, and your bump and breasts swelled generously already. If you didn’t know better, you’d say it’s ridiculous how much your body has changed over the time, considering you still have four moons to go. Comparing your bodies to the ones of other pregnant women at court, kind of around the same stage of pregnancy as you, you’ve quickly noticed that your body looked different. However, they aren’t carrying the offspring of a true Targaryen, and their bodies don’t need to provide enough milk for the little life growing inside of them, because they aren’t carrying a dragon.
Lying on your back with Daemon’s silver mop of hair between your parted legs, you have your head tipped back, eyes glued to the ceiling. He has been lazily licking at your folds for too long at this point, not noticing that you aren’t finding much joy in it anymore given the lack of variation.
As you look down at him, you see that his lilac eyes are fixed on you – just not at your face. And when you tilt your head down to follow his trail of sight, you quickly learn the reason why. Where your breasts just have felt hard and heavy to the touch before, they now look like it as well, entirely ready for him. 
A few droplets of milk oozed out of your darkened buds, running down the curves of your breasts. It has happened plenty of times before but only very rarely with direct touch, and never in his presence. 
There’s admiration in his gaze, tinged with something more carnal, primal – hunger. It’s enough to send a shiver down your spine, and coaxes a renewed wave of your arousal to ooze out of your core. 
Your hand entangles in his silver strands, and while that touch seems to be enough to pull him out of his trance, you give him no time to react as you tug him up by his hair to tower over you. 
He doesn’t speak, unusual for someone who always has something to say, and his questioning gaze is enough to have you chuckling softly. Cupping his cheeks, you pull him in for a kiss. “I should have warned you, husband, my apologies. I started leaking very recently,” you whisper against his lips. 
Just like the many times before, you wrap your legs around his waist. You have easily flipped him onto his back like this plenty of times before, but never with your bump and breasts so swollen, which makes you rely on some of his help. Utterly mesmerized by the sight, there comes no objection from your husband, and soon enough you straddle his hips, sitting astride him with his hard cock captured between your soaked cunt and his lower stomach.
It takes a few grinds of your hips to fully coat his cock in your arousal, sliding back and forth with ease. His raspy groans are almost drowned out by the moans you release each time the tip of his cock rubs against your sensitive pearl. 
Your husband knows his job as you lift your hips, bringing one hand to your arse to support your weight while the other grips the base of his cock to align him with your needy cunt, inviting you to sink down on him. 
The delicious stretch is enough for you both to finally moan in unison. One of your primal instincts is to cup your swollen belly at the sensation, fingers splayed out to support the burgeoning bump. Not wasting a moment, your husband’s large hand joins yours, resting atop of it and covering it in its entirety. 
You always marvel at it when you’re on top of him, but Daemon truly looks as though he has been created by The Seven, and, most importantly, just for you. His usually neat, silver hair is disheveled and splayed out around his face, his scars, the testament of the many wars he’s fought, on full display, and his muscles twitch each time your core clenches around him. 
And yet it’s crystal clear that the lilac eyes of the dragon between your legs still don’t know where to settle. His dark-blown gaze flickers from your face down to where you both are connected and eventually focuses on your bouncing breasts, but it doesn’t stay there for too long, always finding another, even more interesting part of your body until it eventually comes back to your breasts again. 
And even your body seems to notice your husband’s unabashed interest in them, because they suddenly feel heavier than before – too firm and too full, and practically begging for his attention. With full anticipation, Daemon awaits for you to move so he can enjoy the show he was going to receive, however, you’ve overestimated your stamina.
“You should have listened to me,” Daemon says smugly, although his voice is caught by a particularly tight clench of your walls. He bends forward, his strong arms wrapped around your middle and pulling you closer. As your perky buds press against his chest you can’t help but whimper, too sensitive to press so tightly against his body. The close contact forces some more milk to leak out of your breasts, wetting both your chests. “Let me–”
“No,” you protest, shaking your head to make a point. 
You slowly rock your hips back and forth, your movements faltering every now and then in response to his closeness and tight grip. His muscles flex, indicating that it feels good for him but that he just doesn’t like the position and your clear discomfort that comes with it.
“Must you always be so stubborn?” The annoyance in his voice is audible, and his patience is clearly running thin.
As Daemon’s head tilts upwards, yours bows forwards, both your foreheads resting against each other with your hips coming to a stop. Indecent thoughts have never before been the bloom of your embarrassment, but it seems that it comes with the pregnancy and your changing body.  
It’s him tightly squeezing your arse that catches your attention again, your writhing body pressing against his. “What is it?” he asks sternly
There’s no escaping him, you’re certain. And with him looking at you like a predator looking at its prey, you know it’s just a matter of moments until he’ll force an answer out of you. But where your voice fails you, you figure it’s easier to show what’s on your mind, how you need him.  
Tilting your upper body back slightly, you wipe at the dark skin of your bud, his eyes eagerly following your fingers. The whiny sounds that leave your lips at the soft stimulation are enough to snap the last lingering threads of Daemon’s resolve, a growl-like sound rumbling in his chest.
A few more droplets trickle down your skin at the contact, and when you reach to wipe your fingers clean on the covers, Daemon is quick to seize your wrist and bring it up to his mouth instead. 
He leans forward, nuzzling at your fingers to take in the scent of you, before both digits are engulfed by his lips. It’s something you’ve thought of since the first time you have wetted one of your gowns, yet seeing it with your own eyes is something entirely different that makes you gasp. 
It’s not the first time he sucks on your fingers, but this time it’s different. The burning that settles between your legs causes you to squeeze your thighs around his hips, and you’re sharply reminded of him still being inside of you when he bucks his hips up in return. 
But that’s not where he stops. 
His large palm comes up to cup the swell of your breast, the pad of his thumb brushing your hardened bud before he applies a bit of pressure to coax more milk out of it. Whimpering again at the contact, the sound quickly turns into a moan the moment his tongue swirls over your little bud, cleaning away the slip of fluid that has escaped.
If your husband wasn’t so familiar with your body, seeing how it approved of his actions and all but melted against his touch, he would have considered stopping.
His mouth latches around your bud, slowly starting to suck, and you can’t help yourself but to arch your back, shoving your breasts further into his face and mouth. Your arms wrap around his neck, bending at the elbow to entangle into the hair on the crown of his head, combing your fingers through it. He is all but forced to your breasts now, and you’d fear that he’s close to suffocating, if it wasn’t for you knowing all too well that he’d gladly die this way – with his lips on your tits, suckling on what is solely designated for the babe he has put in your belly. 
Each suck of his mouth has your cunt clenching around his throbbing cock, slowly but surely coaxing you to rut your hips back and forth with newfound vigor. 
Droplets of milk rest in the corners of his mouth as he pulls back to release a heedy groan. The lack of stimulation causes you to whine, a frown etching onto your features, but as soon as you catch a glimpse of the sight beneath you, you feel a fresh wave of arousal drip out of your cunt, coating his cock and thighs. His lips are swollen, a sight you merely know from your exuberant hours of kissing, and his chiseled features are framed by your full breasts on either side of it.
“Keep going, husband,” you whimper, “do not stop.”
Applying a bit of pressure to his head with your elbows, you nudge him forward to encourage him to continue his ministrations to which he eagerly complies. Banding his arms around your middle, he brings you closer to him again. 
You can’t stop yourself from whining words of praise at the relief you feel when he resumes, this time taking rather large gulps of milk like a greedy babe, the sounds of his messy slurping filling your ears. Knowing you are providing for your unborn babe is good, but it doesn’t compare to the feeling of your husband emptying your full breasts.
With every suckle of his lips, you take in a sharp breath, and when his hand comes up to squeeze the slowly sagging flesh of your breast, the pressure in it long gone with the amount of milk he has drunk, you gently rock your way through your peak.  
“Gods, yes–,” you cry out, your sentence cut off by a moan. “Just like that… please.” You aren’t even sure what you are begging for, since he has already given you all you could’ve ever asked for, but the relief and pleasure his mouth and cock grant you rob you of the ability to form any coherent thoughts, your mind hazy with lust.
You are sopping wet, labored breath drowning out the squelching sounds of your core repeatedly dragging over his thick cock to calm the storm that rages within you. You aren’t able to see it, but you feel that he is coated in more than one of your juices. Milk dribbles down the corners of his mouth and chin, whereas his stones, his cock and his thighs are coated in your arousal. 
He’s still snugly nestled inside of your warm and wet womanhood, and besides the throbbing and pulsing, it doesn’t move much, he doesn’t move much, solely indulging in your efforts. It’s a welcomed surprise to not have his hips pistoning in and out of you, making it much more bearable to keep him inside of you even after the effects of your peak subside.
The previous firmness of your breast is long gone, and only once the spasming of your core around him stops, Daemon dares to pull away from you. “You taste divine, my love.”
“Then keep going,” you whimper the demand, strands of your hair clinging to your sweaty skin. 
You are less vocal as he focuses on your other breast, and just enjoy the sensations that course through you, paying attention to what elicits which response from your body. His cock is still buried hard and wanting inside of you, and you settle into a slow and steady rhythm with his mouth now working your other breast. 
But not only you are deeply affected by this. It’s so strange, so illicit, that even your husband slowly but surely feels the familiar tingling at the tip of his cock, despite you not moving much, sending a shudder through his core.
As he applies just the edge of his teeth to the sensitive skin of your little bud, a second peak washes over your body in an ambush, and you chase your pleasure in a haze, oblivious to Daemon being close to completion as well. 
Keening and shaking against him with the force of your peak, Daemon’s body eventually seizes, his cock spilling his seed deep inside of you, a strained groan of him fanning over your wet skin. If you wouldn’t be growing round with his child already, you surely would’ve been with one after this, his seed filling you up to the brim and slowly leaking out of your spasming hole. 
With you being tight and warm around him, it proves to be a challenge to get Daemon to release the sensitive bud, too keen to drink every last drop of your milk while you grow somewhat sore and uncomfortable at this point.
But when he finally does, he looks up at you with lust-blown eyes, the familiar lilac replaced by black. You lick your lips, eyes flickering between his and his lips, swollen and covered in the last remnants of your milk, begging for your attention. 
Your head bows down, capturing his lips in a soft kiss, and as the taste of your milk on his tongue spreads over yours, you can’t stop a moan from spilling into his mouth. His arms wrap around your body yet again, pulling you closer against him. And this time, it doesn’t feel painful when your breasts are squeezed by his firm chest, causing you to sigh in content. 
“Avy jorrāelan.” I love you. 
3K notes · View notes
lxkeee · 8 months
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MY LOVE, IS MINE ALL MINE
pairing: Lucifer Morningstar x angel! fem! reader
fandom: Hazbin Hotel
genre: semi-angst
notes: will probably make more parts to this if anyone wants me to
PART TWO | PART THREE
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Lucifer paced back and forth in his chambers, avoiding the piles of rubber ducks as he anxiously bit his nails. He had just opened the portal for his daughter to enter heaven for a meeting. He never felt this much fear in his whole life, he's worried for her daughter—he fears the higher beings would crush her the same way they had crushed him.
“I am sure she'll be fine...” he mutters, his eyes landing on the picture frame of him and charlie that's on his table—beside his newly created fire breathing rubber duck. It's not fine, Charlie is his pride and joy. He wants to preserve her smile and shelter her but she's a grown woman now and he regrets missing out on her life as he was busy wallowing in self pity.
Lucifer's shoulders hung low as he let out a long and tired sigh, his legs brought him to the balcony of his chambers, grabbing his newly made fire breathing rubber duck in the process, pushing the doors open and leaning against the railings, placing the duck on the railings. “Now that I've thought about it, I made so many regrets in life.” he mutters sadly, his eyes gazing at the smoke filled skies of hell. He couldn't see any stars or moon. He remembers when he was still up there, always gazing up in the sky with, “[y/n]....” says sadly. She was the only angel who believed in him, who agrees with him. They were best friends, he used to fly around the skies with her. She was one of the first few angels God created, he is one of those angels of course. His the one that got away.
“....and with that, I think humans should have free will, they shouldn't be stuck following so many rules.” Lucifer mutters, avoiding the gaze of his best friend, “I know, you probably think it's idiotic to think like tha—” his voice was cut off as the girl beside him placed a shushing finger over his lips. His wings fluttered from the contact of her skin against his lips, cheeks heating up slightly. “Don't think like that, your dreams for mankind are amazing and I agree, too many rules aren't fun.” [y/n] giggles softly as she removes her finger away from his lips.
At that moment, Lucifer was able to gaze at her smiling face. Her three pairs of wings flutter behind her—so warm whenever she hugs him, her hair perfectly framing her face—so soft to touch, the golden halo on top of her head—like a crown, her beautiful smiling face—especially her lips, he wonders what it feels like against his own. Oh god, he's falling for her isn't he?
Lucifer shakes his head, he shouldn't be thinking inappropriate thoughts about her. He just composed himself and pretended his golden heart isn't pounding so hard against his ribcage.
Lucifer laughs softly, gazing at the city of hell. “I wonder what would've happened if I didn't back out of my confession that day, she looked excited too..” he wonders.
“[y/n], can I please talk to you... Alone.” Lucifer nervously says as he looked at the female angel before him, he had to take a deep breath in hopes of his beating heart to calm down for a second or else he'll end up with a heart attack. “Oh? You needed me for something?” she asked him gently with a smile, he would've responded “I needed you in my life” if he had the confidence, “I just needed to talk to you, that's all.” He answered meekly and [y/n] was worried because he seemed nervous, she nodded and followed him to an area where there were no other angels.
“Is there something wrong?” [y/n] asked him softly, holding his hands. Her hands were soft against his own. He avoided her gaze and he could hear his heart thumping loudly in his chest. This is it. “I just wanted to tell you that...” he pauses, voice shaking. [Y/n] looked at him expectantly, “that I like you...” he continued and her eyes widened, her cheeks heating up slightly, her heart beating loudly too unknowingly to Lucifer but the poor man misunderstood her reaction and quickly panicked, “to be safe out there when you do your roundly checks on the Garden of eden.” he finishes quickly and nervously.
“I couldn't forget her reaction, she looked so disappointed.” Lucifer mutters with a sad chuckle as he remembers how her face fell in slight disappointment. He didn't know why back then and it took him years to realize that she wanted him to confess. “I am such an idiot, right?” he says and looks at the rubber duck beside him. No response.
Even though he regrets not confessing as he planned that day, even though a part of him wished the outcome was different. He would've been happy with [y/n] but part of him is thankful he didn't, because if he did, Charlotte wouldn't be here.
Speaking of Charlotte, he is now back to worrying for her. “I spent my time thinking about my past love when my daughter is up there talking to them!” he exclaimed, running his fingers through his blond hair. He hopes someone is kind enough to help his daughter up there.
Unknown to him, a certain angel he was just recalling is currently talking to his daughter up in the skies and showing her around.
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vivmaek · 7 months
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SOLAR RETURN OBSERVATIONS: PT.III
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SOLAR RETURN OBSERVATIONS PT. I
SOLAR RETURN OBSERVATIONS PT. II
✰ my masterlist
✺ Sun in the 12th House ✺ You might feel especially drained during this year. It's going to be hard to wake up everyday, your body and soul need rest. Maintaining a positive attitude is going to be difficult, life may feel overwhelming and you’ll feel as though you don’t have the strength to take it all on. But, trust that you do. This SR placement makes me think of a specific quote, “In the depths of winter, I finally learned that within me there lay an invincible summer.” (Albert Camus)
✺ Venus Opposite Saturn ✺ All of your insecurities are going to be heightened. This might be a lonely year for you, there won’t be many social events. Do everything you can to avoid financial debt, and if you have any, put all of your best effort into paying it off.
✺ Jupiter in 7th House ✺ The partners in your life will serve as a great source of joy, and you’ll have luck in companionship. These relationships will make you feel safe, and it would be a good year to get married. If single, you might begin a relationship with a foreigner or could meet a future spouse while traveling! The dating scene won’t be difficult to navigate, you’ll have many options to choose from. Business negotiations and legal matters will run smoothly. Have fun with this time and don’t be afraid to chase after opportunities.
✺ Moon in 1st House ✺ Your personal needs are going to become a priority. You’ll feel sensitive and your self-esteem might take a hit. Whatever emotional experience you’re going through will be apparent to other people, and this will make you feel vulnerable. These uncomfortable experiences will help you work on your insecurities and you’ll grow to become more comfortable with yourself. The SR Moon sign will highlight specific emotional encounters you’ll face this year. If it’s an earth sign, you’ll be focused on practical needs. If it's a fire sign, you’ll deal with feelings of anger and might have a chaotic emotional landscape. An air sign might make you feel disconnected from your emotions, and you might spend the entire year crying with a water sign.
✺ Saturn Trine Ascendant ✺ You will mature greatly over the course of this year. Heavy responsibilities will be placed upon you, but you will rise to the occasion. Your commitments and goals take priority and become central to your personality.
✺ Mars in 8th House ✺ If you’ve encountered violent trauma within the past, you’ll begin to heal and transform these wounds. You might encounter people or situations that remind you of these past events, and it can be jarring. However, you’ll feel stronger than ever and will take back your personal power. You will put a lot of energy into transforming your own psyche and are ready to go to war. This type of healing is not a quiet, peaceful process. A lot of rage and anger will become unleashed, but these emotions must be embraced and fully felt. You’ll find emotional release through physical movement, such as sex or high intensity exercise.
✺ Jupiter Square Saturn ✺ If you’ve been battling addictions, they may come to an end during this year. This will be a difficult transition and a very painful process. Long held beliefs and ideas are being restructured for your benefit. You might not have enough money to buy all the luxuries that you desire, facing financial hardship is another possibility.
✺ Taurus 7th House ✺ Down-to-earth people will be attracted to you this year and they will offer you a sense of stability. You will experience many romantic moments with your partner, these situations will feel effortless. Your natural beauty will be heightened.
✺ Mercury in the 1st House ✺ The downside to this SR placement is a heightened sense of anxiety and restlessness. Your thoughts will be moving faster than ever. However, you might find yourself more comfortable with communicating your thoughts and social exchanges will run smoothly. You might find yourself posting a lot more on social media and interacting with people you normally wouldn’t. You’ll learn a lot throughout this year, but these lessons will be humorous and light-hearted.
✺ Saturn Square MC ✺ You will have to take on extra responsibilities and burdens. All of your focus will be directed towards career progress. You might be under a lot of pressure and obstacles will stand in the way of success. Your sense of dedication is being tested.
✺ Pluto in 3rd House ✺ Watch out for gossip during this year! You’ll learn about the true power of words. Confidential information may come forward, or you might have to deal with information that's been manipulated. Power struggles will showcase themselves through conversation and psychological games will be played. You could find yourself obsessively thinking over a particular issue and it might begin to rule over your life. Your relationships with your siblings will undergo a transformation. There might be a lot of construction within your surrounding neighborhood, it will be loud and disruptive and might force you to change your route to work/school.
✺ Venus Square Jupiter ✺ Having different values and beliefs can serve as a source of conflict within relationships. You might have a generous partner, but they don't quite understand what you want or need.
✺ Venus in the 12th House ✺ You may be faced with financial insecurity. If you're looking for a job, it will be a struggle to find one, especially one that will pay the wages you deserve. However, the emotional strain that occurs due to this will not be all-consuming. This uncertainty will force you to focus on the spiritual aspects of life, and you’ll feel somewhat detached. Protecting your sense of peace will be a priority. This year will be somewhat isolating and you won’t be attending too many social gatherings. You might find it difficult to show other people affection.
✺ Neptune in 4th House ✺ You may want to move residences, but confusion and delays will follow suit. A friend or family member in need might crash at your house for an unknown amount of time. An elderly family member might move in, and you’ll have to take care of them or figure out other living arrangements.
✺ Venus in 10th House ✺ You’ll find a lot of success within your career this year. You’ll be a favorite amongst authority figures and will build up a good social network within the professional world. You might start dating a colleague, or you could befriend one. You might fall in love with your job.
✺ Saturn in the 6th House ✺ Responsibilities are going to be hitting you hard this year, they’ll be unavoidable. You may feel incredibly limited within your day to day life and this will leave you feeling frustrated. Superiors at work might become a domineering presence within your life. All work, no play. Your rewards for these efforts will be delayed, and you might not receive proper compensation. Bad health habits will catch up with you, make sure to take care of yourself.
✺ Neptune in the 7th House ✺ You’ll feel very unsure about where a particular partnership is headed. The boundaries are unclear, and you’ll find yourself giving into wishful thinking. Oftentimes if something is too good to be true, it usually is. You might be willing to sacrifice certain aspects of your life so you can be with this person. Try to let go and let things play out naturally. Don’t get too emotionally invested if you’re dealing with a casual relationship. These connections feel spiritual and a certain amount of glamor will be present. Even if negative experiences occur, you can use these lessons to heal.
✺ Gemini 10th House ✺ If you're looking for a job, going into sales might be your best bet. You’ll find yourself socializing a lot at work, and might even have fun. Answering phone calls and responding to emails becomes important within your career. You could be the youngest person in your field, or you might gain a reputation for being immature. Internships or taking part in some sort of mentorship is a big possibility here.
✺ Pluto in the 5th House ✺ If you’ve been wanting to undergo a creative project, now would be the best time. You’ll feel an intense drive to master your craft and will feel dedicated and focused. There is also the possibility of encountering someone who you’re deeply attracted to. These love feelings will be all-consuming and you might feel obsessed. Your sex life will be fun, intense, and emotionally fulfilling. Take precaution, and watch out for pregnancy if that's something you’re trying to avoid. Romantic encounters could also serve as a major source of creative inspiration.
✺ Vesta in the 10th House ✺ You’ll have to nurture and tend to your career if you want to see success in this area. And this includes taking care of yourself. You’ll learn how to strike a balance between work and rest. Thinking about long term success will be a major theme for the year. Instead of chasing after risks and big moves, you’ll focus on small actions that have the ability to take you far. It's time to dedicate yourself fully to your professional life, but you don’t want to lose sight of who you are in the process.
✺ Scorpio Ascendant ✺ You’ll undergo an emotional + psychological transformation and this will become especially apparent in your personality and appearance. People who have known you your entire life might not recognize you by the end of the year. This can be disruptive, and you might find that certain relationships that were once deep, don’t serve you anymore.
✺ Aries 6th House ✺ Your day to day life will be filled with energy. You might have to pick up a busier schedule at work, but you’ll take it on with an aggressive attitude. Accepting defeat is not an option this year, your habits and routines will reflect this. This will be a healthy year for you, but if you get sick you might run the risk of running a high fever.
✺ Aquarius 6th House ✺ Your daily routines are going to look very different in comparison to last year. Your intellect will serve as a source of strength, and you might have to deal with new computer programs at work. Buying a new phone or computer is another possibility, some form of technology that is used within daily life. You could feel different or might even become outcasted at work due to a rebellious attitude.
✺ Libra 2nd House ✺ This will be a good year for money and income. Your sense of self-worth will increase. However, the risk of tying up your self worth within another person is another possibility. If you’re in a relationship, or begin one, this person will have many material gifts to give you.
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thisblogisaboutabook · 6 months
Text
Baby, Mine
Azriel x Reader - Angst/Fluff - One shot
Rhys returns from under the mountain and Azriel’s life is changed forever as a bond snaps with the female his brother brings back with him. After an unexpected pregnancy is revealed, Azriel strives to show his mate just how much she and their child mean to him. Please read warnings below.
Bonus Chapter/Part 2
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Warnings: discussion of rape and S/A, pregnancy resulting from rape, mentions of trauma, language, mention of pregnancy termination
“We should get up. My stomach’s growling.”
“And I thought it was just the little one chatting with my shadows.” Azriel teased, flushing beneath her gaze as his scarred fingers traced lightly over the growing swell of her abdomen, becoming more apparent by the day. He’d been nervous touching it for the first time, like he’d desecrate that precious life force growing underneath with his hands that had inflicted so much pain. But the way her eyes lit up the first time he touched it, he never wanted to forget the feeling of love and joy radiating into him through that newfound bond. It was beautiful - made him feel worthy of helping raise the beautiful life she was bringing into the world.
Though her stomach growled again, she made no move to get up, and by the way her hands were holding onto him, Azriel knew better than to go retrieve a plate from the House of Wind’s kitchen for her. So he sent a shadow beneath the door to see if Nuala or Cerridwen were there and if they could bring leftovers in, that is if Cassian and Mor hadn’t devoured the entire breakfast already.
“How’s she doing?” Rhys asked into his mind.
“Better than some days but not great, Rhys.”
There was a pause before Rhys’ guilty voice reentered his conscious.
“She’s the most selfless person I know, Az. I’m glad you two have eachother. But if she needs anything, if you need anything, let me know.”
And she was. Selfless in a way that Azriel couldn’t fathom. Selfless in a way that made his gut churn, a way he wanted to roar at the moon and the stars, and anyone who would listen. Selfless when she should have never had to be. She was bright and radiant and kind. The world looked at her and saw ethereal sunshine, walking starlight, unfathomable beauty both inside and out. But there was darkness and pain there too, so buried down deep that only Azriel could feel it in the middle of the night as whimpers disrupted her sleep.
So many nights Rhys would have to come in and cradle her mind, send her soothing thoughts and visions of anything beautiful that could mask the perils that haunted her dreams.
Azriel hated himself for it, the jealousy. He wished he could soothe her in that way but no matter how much love he sent through their bond, that darkness rooted itself so deeply within her that sometimes it took significant power from Rhys to reach it.
As if Rhys wasn’t already fighting his own trauma and waging against the insurmountable guilt he carried after being under the mountain, plus worrying about Feyre in the Spring Court. And that wasn’t to say Y/N was a burden in any way, though she felt she was. It killed Azriel to see both his mate and his brother fighting so much grief and not being able to do anything about it.
She’d have been better suited to be Rhysand’s mate than Azriel’s own by their intertwined traumas, by their ability to put themselves aside for a better world. Azriel, of course, fit into this court of dreamers but she… despite only being here for such a short period of time, she was the biggest dreamer of them all.
Another rumble from her stomach snapped Azriel out of his thoughts, mentally noting to Rhys, “She could use breakfast.”
“I’ll send some for both of you. You need to take care of yourself too.”
Azriel smelled the salt of her tears before he saw the silver lining her eyes. Propping himself up on an elbow, draping a wing over her, he began to ask softly, “Hey-“. Her head immediately shaking and she choked on the word, “No.”
“Baby, I know what you’re thinking and it’s not a burden. He just wanted to know if you needed anything.”
She took a few deep breaths, willing away those tears. “He doesn’t have to check on me. It’s my f-“
“Stop that. Listen to me, I’m always here to listen to you and I know that you’re dealing with complex emotions and trauma that I cannot even begin to fully fathom but this.. it’s not your fault.”
Her eyes welled up further as Azriel continued,
“I don’t want to lecture you or invalidate what you are feeling. Your emotions are justified but… these thoughts will eat you alive, they’re vicious lies that have been conditioned into you, and I can promise you that nobody blames anything on you. This entire family is so fucking grateful to have you as a part of it. In a world of darkness, where you had every right, every reason to bring that darkness with you, you chose light.”
He choked on his words as those tears flowed down her face. “You chose light when it only brought more darkness upon yourself.”
She cut him off. “She’s not darkness.”
Azriel raised an eyebrow. “She?”
And through her tears, he saw the slightest gleam of radiance in her eyes. “I can just feel it. Feel her.”
Azriel pressed a kiss to Y/N’s belly. “Yes, you are absolutely right. She is not darkness - she’s a beacon of light, the brightest star in the sky, perhaps aside from her mother - but the mental load you are carrying, it is dark and it’s heavy. And yes, you would carry darkness with you regardless of this spark of hope” he rubbed her belly in tender circles for emphasis. “But I know that mind of yours. That you are telling yourself that you’re a burden, that you made the wrong choice, when there was no wrong choice.”
At this point, the tears were streaming down her face, his shadows dutifully whisking them away, but only gratitude and love flowed from her.
A knock came on the door. Azriel’s eyes glazed over as Y/N recognized the telltale signs of what was happening. A line creased in his brow before she placed a gentle hand on his arm. “It’s okay, he can come in.”
“You sure, my love? He understands when you need space.”
She nodded. “I know but I think I need to see him today.” Azriel brushed his thumb in soothing ministrations across her abdomen until she pulled her night gown back down to cover herself.
The door creaked open and Rhys padded over to the bed, guilt and adoration limning his features. “Hey, starshine.” She blushed at the term. She hated her own name after Amarantha had called it so many times under the mountain. Rhys had begun calling her Starshine in secret due to her Day Court origins and the fact that he was convinced she’d been more suited for the Night Court.
Rhys had been drawn to her under the mountain, something about her reminding him of his brother. Rhysand could admit that Azriel was the most beautiful of the three brothers, his features seemingly crafted by the gods themselves. But if Azriel’s features were crafted by the gods, Y/N’s were crafted by the Mother herself. Aside from that, she had a quiet presence, though far less stoic and broody than Azriel’s, it was more of a quiet, gentle grace. A grace that Amarantha had tried so hard to shed her of but was never quite successful.
Amarantha, of course, made it her mission to both seek pleasure from her and torment her. When she never fully broke, Amarantha decided that instead of throwing her to the dark corridors she stuffed most lesser fae in, she’d make an excellent play thing. She looked mostly High Fae after all, yet had enhanced sexual appeal due to her nymph ancestry - perfect high and round breasts, long legs, a firm yet supple ass, and an arousing scent - needless to say, Amarantha delighted to add her to her roster of bed chamber accompaniment.
Y/N and Rhys developed a quiet understanding of each other and the roles they were forced to play in the year that she’d been under the mountain before Feyre arrived. They did not grow close enough for Amarantha to become concerned but enough that she knew her play things got along well enough to bring them both into her chambers at the same time.
Rhys would never forget the first time Amarantha had forced he and her into her chambers at the same time. Y/N tried to be strong, and she was. Another aspect of her that reminded him of his brother.
But she began to crack slightly, and Rhys knew Amarantha would make it so much worse for her if she did. So he did the only thing he knew to do and held her mind. He showed her visions of the Night Skies of the Night Court, the spirits of Starfall, the laughter of a family surrounding a table in a beloved restaurant, anything that could help her through it.
As he held her mind, she’d unwittingly sent visions from throughout her twenty-two years of life prior to being captured and brought under the mountain. She was loved deeply by her family who had little more than love to give. Eventually they had been murdered by Amarantha’s cronies at the age of nineteen - she’d been able to escape and live among the High Fae who sneered and objectified her, but offered enough coin to sleep with her to keep a roof over her head.
Rhys had determined that night that if they ever made it out of there alive, he was taking her to Velaris with him. She’d never live like that again.
He even smiled at the thought of introducing her and Azriel when she was ready to meet his family, already picturing his brother’s rose-dusted cheeks in her presence.
“Thank you” Azriel’s low voice withdrew Rhys from his thoughts, taking the plate from his hands.
A familiar scent wafted off of Rhys to Y/N. Pregnancy had heightened her sense of smell substantially.
As she sniffed the air Rhys gave a soft, sad smile at the eye brow she raised at him before asking, “Where is she?”
He shook his head, darkness rolling in waves off of him. “Tamlin locked her in his fucking manor. She had a breakdown.”
Her face drew tight. “That bastard!” Azriel flinched at the rage flowing down the bond. “She must have been terrified.”
“She certainly terrified the servants in his manor. She shrouded herself in darkness and nobody could get through to her.”
“He doesn’t deserve her.”
Rhys nodded. “He doesn’t.”
“You didn’t answer my question, Rhys. Where is she?”
“At the Town House.”
Her eyes blew wide. “Cauldron boil me, is she staying?”
Azriel smiled as he felt her excitement flow into him. A bit of that Day Court sunshine returning to her.
“I don’t know. She knows she can’t tell anyone if she goes back, but…”
“I felt it through the bond, Y/N. I think she’s here to stay.”
Azriel’s shadows agitated at the pause in verbal conversation, chattering back and forth,
“Secrets”
“Secrets”
He rolled his eyes and dismissed them, already knowing there were some things that remained between just Y/N and Rhys. He’d accepted it the very moment he’d shown up after he received word that Rhys was finally home and the bond snapped as soon as he laid eyes upon the radiant female by his side. He knew it snapped for her too when she walked right up to him, touched the hands he tried to hide behind his back, her eyes speaking everything she couldn’t. “I see your scars. I bear them too.” And pressed a kiss to each hand.
“Do you want me to leave? I assume she’s at the Town House but I’m sure she’ll be visiting here too, yes?”
Azriel bristled. No way in hell was Rhys going to make his mate leave, whether this home was his or not, she had a right to be present wherever she wished.
“Easy brother.”
Azriel shook off the feeling. The mating instinct was still so strong that he had a hard time not jumping in to defend her at the thought of any threat, physical or emotional.
“Y/N” Rhys took her hand.
“Don’t bite my head off for holding her hand, either.”
Azriel huffed before firing back to Rhys’ mind “I can’t wait for you to find your mate someday so you can see what it feels like to be so wound up like this.”
Rhys only gave a small, secret smile in return.
Y/N interjected. “Are you two done gossiping or can I know whether I should pack up or not?”
“This is your home just as much as it is my home. You are my family and I want Feyre to meet all of you. Cassian has already barreled through the door of the Town House along with Mor begging to be fed. Feyre went up to nap and recollect herself.”
“Can we have dinner with her… if she wants to?” She asked softly with a mixture of excitement and nervousness to her voice.
Rhys gave a nod. “I was thinking that same thing. Would you be comfortable?”
She nodded before the reality of the situation caught up with her.
“Y/N.” Rhys leaned in, gently tilting her head up to look at him. “I am not ashamed of you. I will never hide you or the life you are selflessly bringing into this Court of Dreamers.” His eyes lined with silver. “And I will always be so proud of the love that you both share. I knew from the moment I met you that my brother would adore you. And the fact that you two are mates? It’s one of the greatest things to come from that shit hole of a mountain. A reminder of the beauty that can prevail, even after the most dreadful of circumstances. I love all three of you.”
Azriel held his mate closely, ensuring she felt just how loved she truly was.
“She kicked for the first time the other day.”
Rhys raised a brow.
Y/N let out a sigh. “Ugh, you two are so skeptical. I really believe that this baby is a girl.”
Rhys eyed the scarred hand protectively placed over her round bump, so many complicated emotions running through him, with love being the strongest.
“Feyre will likely ask questions tonight regarding all of us, our stories. Nobody has to share anything they do not wish to, but you also may share if you are comfortable doing so. I would really like for Feyre to become a member of the Inner Circle-“
Rhys looked to Y/N rolling his eyes at the smirk and waggling eyebrows she gave him.
“Stop that. My point is just that, I would like for her to know all of you. I know she’ll love you all just as I do. Hell, she’ll probably love all of you before she’s ready to even fully tolerate me.”
Azriel let out a chuckle as his mate quipped “Tell me the story of the time she threw a shoe at you. It’s my favorite!”
“You cruel, lovely little thing.” Rhys laughed. “See you both for dinner.”
As Rhys exited them room, Y/N sighed. “You were awfully quiet.”
Az nudged her. “And that surprises you?”
“Okay, quieter than usual.”
Azriel pulled her in close, peppering kisses across her forehead. “I just don’t want you to do anything you’re not ready for. You are still healing and now you’ll be facing someone else that was under the mountain with you.”
“She saved us all, Az.” She looked up into his hazel eyes with nothing but genuine adoration. “Without her, I never would have met you. And what kind of existence would that be?”
She began picking at the plate Rhys had brought in. Letting out a moan as the flavors burst on her tongue.
Az couldn’t help the involuntary twitch of his wings at the sound.
She laughed. “Don’t get any ideas until I’m finished with my food.”
Azriel raised his palms. “I’d never get between my pregnant mate and her meal. With the way she’s started moving, she’d likely kick me away anyway.”
She took another bite while nonchalantly commenting, “I thought of a name for her.”
“Oh yeah?” Azriel’s brows raised in anticipation of a potential name for their child.
“Azure. The same blue as the skies. I thought…”
Azriel cut her off, marveling at the name. Whispering more to himself than her. “Blue like the Day Court skies, blue like the skies that I love to take you flying in.”
She flushed. “Yes, exactly. And though it’s a different shade of blue, like your siphons.”
A lone tear escaped his eye. “And,” she continued with a coy smile. “We could call her ‘Az’”
Azriel sat still for a moment. And she would have thought he didn’t like it had it not been the rush of pure shock and awe flowing through the bond.
Suddenly he took her face in his hands, barely giving her time to swallow the bite of bacon she’d just taken, and crashed his lips into hers. And after her lips were swollen and puffy from the heat of his lips, he began pressing kisses all over her belly, whispering between them, “I love you, little Az. I love you more than the skies I fly in. More than my own name. More than any dreamer could dream of being loved. I can’t wait to fly you through the open skies, and show you every shade of blue this beautiful world has to offer. Nothing in this world matters more than you and your mother. I couldn’t be more proud to be your father.”
And he meant it. Every single word. The blood running through the baby growing inside of his mate didn’t need to be his, what mattered was the love flowing within the child and he intended to pour every single ounce of love he had into their baby.
It was Y/N though who broke down at those words. She and Azriel had spent every free moment together since meeting. He’d healed her in ways that she never could have dreamed. Finding her mate changed the time after Under the Mountain from the lonesome trauma reckoning hellhole she’d anticipated and into a time of healing. He listened to her, understood her, let her set the pace in every aspect. And he’d shared his trauma with her, all of it.
The child who had been abused by a wicked stepmother and horrid step-brothers, overlooked by his own father had grown up to be loving, caring, and patient in every way. And now, he was going to be the parent of a child that was not his by conception, choosing to love the child just as he would his very own. A vow he’d sworn in their mating vows and sealed with a bargain.
“What is it, love?” Azriel wiped away her tears.
“Stupid hormones. I just love you so much and I need you to know that you are so much more than I ever could have dreamed of. If I had to, I would go through it all again as long as it led me to you.”
Azriel’s eyes began watering again. “Look at us, Y/N. We’re quite a sight. Whatever you say tonight, just don’t let Cassian know that I’ve gotten so soft.”
Her glassy eyes sparkled as she gave a sweet smile. “I have a feeling that softness has already been there, my love, I just had the privilege of coaxing it out of you.”
He smiled. “Truth Teller personified.”
————————-
“We’re heading up now.” Rhys’ voice cut into Y/N’s mind.
“Are you sure about this, Rhys? Most of them do not know what all happened under the mountain. What if it’s too much for Feyre to take in?”
“She’s my mate, I have to hope that she will love and accept us all in time. It may be a lot to meet us and hear our stories but they’re a part of us, a part of loving us. I’m worried about Cassian scaring her off more than anything.”
“Valid concern. See you soon. Despite the circumstances, I’m so happy she’s here.”
“You know,” Rhys chuckled. “I feel the same way about you, Starshine.”
“You flatter me. Now enjoy your flight with the literal girl of your dreams.”
“She’s glaring daggers at me right now. Pray I make it there alive.”
“Where’d you go?” Az nudged.
Leaning into her mate’s side, embracing the warmth of his arms wrapped around her shoulders she replied, “Rhys and Feyre are on the way.”
“Are you ready for this?” He asked.
“I’m sure you can already feel my nerves down the bond but I appreciate you for asking.” She teased.
Azriel kept his pace slow as they wound through the hallways of the House of Wind toward the dining table. “If you’re not ready…”
She took a steadying breath. “No, he needs to get off on a solid foundation with her. And Cassian, Mor, and Amren have eyed us for a while, they realize that something is off. Plus, I mean, look at this thing.” Her delicate hands found her stomach. “They’re going to figure out that the timelines don’t match up soon enough.”
“Our girl IS growing.” Azriel spoke, not missing the opportunity to feel the life growing within his mate.
She teased, “You’ve referred to the babe as “her” a few times now. Coming around to the idea?”
“I know better than to go against your intuition.”
With that, Y/N gave a wicked grin. “Mother knows best.”
As they approached the dining room, Azriel pressed a kiss to her forehead. “I’ll be right by your side.”
She beamed. “And I’ll be by yours too, with whatever you may share tonight…and forever, of course.”
As everyone arrived and gathered at the dining table, Y/N couldn’t help but admire how lovely Feyre and Rhys were together. Though she hated the situation that brought her there, that Tamlin tried to hoard her away in his manor, she couldn’t help but feel joy knowing that she was finally beginning to see the true Rhysand.
The Inner Circle kept up with the typical antics and plenty of laughter filled the space, but the conversation eventually turned more serious as everyone took turns giving Feyre insight into themselves.
Feyre looked to Y/N with curiosity. “You were under the mountain, but Azriel was not?”
Her hands shook as she prepared to share. A warmth covered them as Azriel gave a gentle squeeze, sending waves of that reassurance in abundance. She took a breath.
She began by sharing the background of her family, their deaths, that she’d sold her body to survive afterward, how she’d only been under the mountain for a year before Feyre arrived.
“You didn’t know Azriel before they took you?” Feyre asked. Not harshly, just inquisitively.
Y/N held her head high. Her story was not one to be ashamed of.
“I did not. Rhys was one of the only souls to show me kindness under the mountain. I have nymph ancestry with primarily High Fae features. Amarantha took an interest in me and….”
An unreadable expression covered Rhys’ face. This was his trauma too, but he gave a reassuring nod.
“She began taking me to her chambers. I had no choice. It was warm her bed, or face physical torture until death.”
Feyre flinched along with Rhys. Y/N recognized that they were remembering the human girl Amarantha had tortured to death just before Feyre’s arrival.
“She also, against our hopes, realized that Rhysand and I had an understanding of eachother - serve her or die. Being the lust-driven wretch that she was, she began taking us both to her chambers. There was no room for weakness in there. She wanted us just weak enough to submit to her, but we had to remain strong in every other aspect. The first time she had Rhys and I, together,” she cleared her throat, giving pause before continuing, “Rhys saved me. I began to crack, and he held my mind. I will let Rhys speak on his own trauma and the mental load he carried, but he didn’t hesitate to help me get through it. It was not the last time he had to help me through it.”
The table was completely silent. Heart-wrenching expressions filled each face at the table. Palpable rage could be felt radiating off of Amren, though her face remained straight.
Her voice began cracking. Azriel pulled her close into him. “When you saved us,” She looked to Feyre. “I don’t mean to fawn or gawk over you, but Feyre, you did save us.” Feyre gave an empathetic look, nodding to Y/N to continue. “Rhys brought me back to Velaris because he couldn’t bear for me to return to the life I was living, because this Court of Dreams is made up of individuals who have lived through terrible traumas and, despite every reason to lead bitter lives- have chosen to dream of a better world. To fight for a better world. And he knew a certain Shadowsinger and I would get on quite well. In fact, he’s been a smug bastard ever since over just how well things went between us.”
“When I met him.” She stared lovingly to Azriel who swallowed a lump in his throat. “The bond snapped between us immediately. The same day I was brought here, I met my mate.”
Instinctively she placed her hands on the swell of her abdomen. “Rhys gave Azriel leave to spend time with me, for him to help me through the aftermath of what I’d been through…”
“But two weeks after arriving back, my scent began to shift.” Mor’s brows furrowed in contemplation.
“I became very sick shortly after that. Rhys called in a healer, Madja, who confirmed that I was two and a half months pregnant.”
Cassian audibly gasped and Mor murmured “Oh my gods.”
Azriel kept his composure for the sake of his mate, but this was killing him. His brother and his mate being forced by that fucking witch. “Azriel is not the biological father of this baby. The child was conceived under the forced coupling of Rhysand and I by Amarantha.”
Feyre’s face was a mix of sadness, and rage, and sympathy.
“There were options to terminate the pregnancy. However, due to my Nymph ancestry, such options can have negative, potentially deadly effects. Aside from that, though I never planned to have a child - I couldn’t bear the thought of losing another family member. Rhys, after losing his family, felt the same, which he only expressed after I shared my feelings with him. He was completely supportive of any decision I made.” Feyre looked to Rhys and then back to Y/N, no negative judgement written on those lovely features.
Y/N looked to Azriel with a loving grin “And Azriel- he took me to a priestess that night. We both wanted to accept the bond from the moment we met, the connection was unbelievably strong, I never believed in the power of the bond until I found him. And now because he’s ever the romantic, though I see him already blushing at the mention of it, he wanted to make a vow before the Mother - a vow to love me no matter what choice I made, a vow to love the life within me as his very own child, to love and cherish us both until his last breath.”
She pulled the sleeve off of her shoulder, revealing the intricate tattoo solidifying his vow.
“And Rhys,” She gave a soft smile. “He made a bargain to love and care for this child and to recognize Azriel as its father. We will not hide the parentage from our child. And Rhys, I know, already loves them dearly, but mine and Azriel’s decisions for our baby come first and will be respected as any biological parents would.”
She’d left out the part where Azriel had gone under the mountain to investigate later on and found that Amarantha had begun supplying a fertility tonic instead of birth control to Y/N after the Calanmai that Rhys had gone to the Spring Court and seen Feyre. Though she didn’t know who Rhys saw, she likely suspected he’d developed interest in someone else and become jealous, hoping an accidental pregnancy would either create a rift in any potential relationship or, even worse, that the baby could be used as leverage against him.
The table remained silent until Rhys chimed in. “So my brother is my child’s father. I’m sure stranger things have happened.”
Despite that sadness the Inner Circle felt, Rhysand’s comment elicited smiles. Azriel gave his brother a nod of thanks for breaking the tension while affectionately caressing his mate.
Mor eased the tension further by chiming in “Y/N! You are further along than we realized which means….. we get to go shopping for our newest family member sooner!!!”
Feyre decided soon after that she would like to work with the Court of Dreams.
————————-
Epilogue
Because his mate was always right, Azriel was indeed the father of a beautiful little girl, clever and stubborn like her mother, and the light of his life. Her mother the sun, and she the moon.
He and Rhys had just returned from taking “Baby Azzie” who was now a toddler to get pastries along the Sidra. Azriel returned with his half-asleep daughter in his arms, who perked up upon seeing her baby brother cooing in his bassinet. “Nyxie!!” She yelled, hurrying over to the winged babe. Rhys, however, arrived with numerous shopping bags in his own arms.
Feyre, who had been lounging with her head on Y/N’s shoulder gave the two a big smile. Y/N raised an eyebrow. “All of that better be for Nyx.”
Azriel and Rhys shared a laugh before Rhys spoke. “Well, half of it is, but only because someone batted her little lashes at us repeating ‘Brother, present. Brother, present’ until we took her into what is conveniently her favorite toy store.” Az cut in, “And because my brother is getting soft in his old age” before Rhys could remind Azriel that he was, in fact, the older of the two, Az continued, “Rhys had to buy something for her for every item she picked out for Nyx.”
Y/N groaned. “Cassian literally just bought her five new toys and six new outfits on their last outing.”
The raven-haired toddler with her mother’s nose and radiant skin, Rhys’ smile, and by some gift of the Mother - had Azriel’s golden-flecked hazel eyes, toddled up to Feyre, giving her a big hug. She then turned to her mother, leaning in to whisper something, that came out as quietly as a yell. “I got something for sissy too. Daddy has it in the pocket realm.”
Y/N’s face flushed as Rhys and Feyre gaped. “So much for keeping that a secret for a little longer.”
Feyre squealed leaning in and throwing her arms around Y/N. “I thought that maybe I was getting allergies, your scent hasn’t been as strong but you were glamouring it!”
Rhys pulled Azriel into a long hug, then walked over to Y/N with a wide smile, pressing a kiss to her forehead.
Azriel placed a hand on his chest as he took in the sight of his blended family. It wasn’t what he’d ever expected but, to him, it was everything.
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beomcoups · 4 months
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F.U.C.K.
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𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: ex!bf Seungcheol x fem!reader
𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: angst, smut, small fluff, lovers to exes au, 18+
𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬: 3.1k
𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: You've been on and off forever and you couldn't leave him alone if you tried. You have an itch only Seungcheol can scratch.
𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: unprotected sex, oral, missionary, riding, praise, dirty talk, creampie, clit stim, multiple orgasms, a bit of overstimulation, Coups is a lover boi, angsty feelings about the relationship
𝐀𝐍: Thank youuuuu @hobeemin & @wongyuseokie for reading this for me and Beezy you are the best hype woman ever <3. Also thank you @aaagustd for making this sexy ass banner 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭: 💿 F.U.C.K- Victoria Monet, Dirty Dancer- Orion Sun, Idea 686- Jayla Darden, Strings- iyla, Behind- Woodz, Forgive Me- Chloe x Halle, Art- Tyla, I Could Imagine- Alina Baraz, Good& Plenty- Alex Isley, Masego and Jack Dine, Skin Tight- Ravyn Lenae Steve Lacy, Idea 683- Jayla Darden, Body and Soul- Emotional Oranges and Biig Piig, Butterflies- Tyla, Between Us- Alina Baraz, Nasty- Tinashe, Under The Moon - Alex Isley, Jack Dine (spotify)
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It’s complicated. Your Facebook relationship status has been that way for over a year. If someone asked, you wouldn’t know how to define your relationship with Seungcheol. You can’t say you’re just friends when the love is still there, but you can’t stay together longer to just work. Something happens, and you argue and split up. Months, sometimes years, can go by, and you feel like you’ve finally moved on, but all he has to do is call, or you have an itch that needs scratching, and there he is, ready to make it go away.
He stands there in front of you, his dark hair clipped and trimmed perfectly, highlighting the handsome features on his face: his dark, round eyes, high cheekbones, and plump pink lips. He comes dressed in a simple white tee and sweats, with an overnight bag in hand, as he knows he is staying the night. Seungcheol smirked as he walked in, placing a small kiss on your temple. 
“Well, hello to you too,” you say, shutting the door behind you. You watch him take off his shoes, walk into your living room, and admire the view of the city through your picture windows. You just moved into your high-rise condo a couple of months ago, and your job promotion allows you to level up in life and enjoy nice things for once. Your place looks straight out of a movie, with your tastes added. Your favorite color is blue, and you included it in your decor. 
“You kept the couch?” Seungcheol points at the royal blue sectional sofa with matching gold-trimmed throw pillows you bought from your favorite thrift store. “Yes,” you say proudly. “That couch is my pride and joy. We’ve been through a lot together.” Memories about the many times you spent together on the couch, clothed and unclothed, cloud your mind. He chuckles as you sashay to the kitchen, grabbing a bottled water. You offer him one, and he shakes his head, returning his attention to the city's shining lights. He’s been in your life for five years, meeting at a grocery store with both of your hands on the last bag of cherries. He relented, letting you have them in exchange for your number. You didn’t give it to him, hoping that you would see him again. At the time, you just moved to the city, and if you were meant to meet again, you would give him your number. A couple of weeks later, you did when you went to a birthday dinner with your former roommate. His eyes twinkled when you exchanged glances, and you felt like it was fate.  “You did it,” he felicitates you. “You did everything we talked about doing all those years ago. I’m proud of you.”
You would have late nights with him in your shitty old apartment, eating Chinese takeout in bed and talking about your hopes for the future. Seungcheol wanted to have it all: a nice house, cars, and riches beyond his dreams. All you wanted was a good life. You grew up poor, raised by a single mom who worked two jobs to ensure you had a roof over your head. You understood each other in that way, and it worked between you two for a while… until it didn’t.
“You got your high rise before me,” you appear beside him. “What does it feel like, being the top broker in your firm?”
“It’s nice,” he nods. “It keeps me busy.”
You knew that all too well. One of the reasons you broke up was time. His work felt more important than maintaining a relationship with you. You swear if someone called in the middle of the night, he would answer in a heartbeat. It’s not like you aren’t busy; you work on Wall Street. But you still made time to be with him at all important events and when it mattered most. The energy wasn’t reciprocated.
“I see nothing has changed,” you say, taking a swig of your water.
“Yeah,” he mumbles. “I think I am ready for it, though.”
“Are you now?”
“Yeah. There is no point in having all of this if there is no one to share it with, right?”
You didn’t have to say anything back because he was right. What is the point of working hard, making more money than your parents could ever dream of, traveling, and having life experiences without having someone to share them with? It also incredibly frustrates you. Why did it take five years for him to get to this point? The back and forth, blocking each other on all accounts. Was it worth it?
You two are silent, watching the city lights twinkle in the distance. His fingers slip in between yours, pulling you closer to him. Just being near him makes your heart skip several beats. No one like him can melt you just by his touch and presence. Yes, he can irritate you to no end, but he also makes your soul smile.
“I missed you,” he says, gazing at you. 
“I know.” 
You kiss him, the magic stirring in your chest as he returns your feelings; sparks all around you two like fireworks. Your hands explore him fervently, pulling off his shirt and throwing it on your couch. He unhooks your bra, helping you out of your shirt and exposing your breasts. He bites his lip as he palms his growing bulge, the very thought of his lips all over you making you hot.
“You’re beautiful,” he whispers. 
You take his hand and guide him to your bedroom, climbing over your king-size bed. He follows you closely, his index finger sliding up your thigh. It feels electric, having him touch you again after so long. You have tried moving on, going on dates, and having one-night stands here and there. But deep down, those people weren’t him. Seungcheol knows your body, what makes you tick, your boundaries, and what drives you crazy. It’s exhausting trying to find that chemistry with someone else. Too bad you can’t just make it work. 
He slides your shorts and panties off with one hand, your naked body being illuminated by the moonlight. He notices your sheets, trying to hold it in before succumbing to a belly laugh. 
“Cherry sheets? Really?” He says in between breathes.
“Come on now,” you chuckle. “You know I love my little house on the prairie sheets.” “I swear you were born in the wrong generation,” Seungcheol expresses, brushing his thumb across your cheek. “Yeah, maybe,” you muse over his words. “I’m glad I met you in this lifetime, though.” He admires you, his thumb caressing your cheek before he kisses you again. This time, it’s more heartfelt, your bodies hungry for another as each minute passes. His hand travels down to your inner thighs, spreading your legs apart and slowly entering a digit into your wet core. Seungcheol licks his lips, watching your eyes roll back as you unravel his arms. “Shit,” you moan. “Keep doing it just like that.”
“I’m going to do more than that,” he whispers in your ear. 
Seungcheol was already great with his fingers, slipping one more in you as his tongue played in circles on your neck, your sweet-smelling perfume intoxicating to him. He loves the way your brows furrow when he goes deep, your mind focused on nothing else but cumming all over his hand. You play with your clit, drunk on the pleasure he’s giving you, with your wetness pooling onto your sheets. You two are connected in a way, in your own little bubble surrounded by ecstasy.
“Fuck baby,” you pant as pressure builds up in your stomach. “I’m almost there.” He pulls his fingers out of you quickly, snapping you out of your zone, and you whimper in protest. He aggressively pulls down his pants and briefs, revealing his hardened cock already leaking with precum. He slides down to your entrance, his face nose deep in between your legs before he dives in; his tongue attacks your sweet nectar. Sensational couldn't even begin to describe how you feel. He eats you with an enthusiasm that almost makes you laugh despite the deep pleasure he brings you. “You taste better than I remembered,” he mouths. “Cum for me.”
Your body is at its brink, ready to fall, when Seungcheol slips his fingers in, working together with his tongue to make sure you hit that pool of ecstasy. Your hands grip his hair, and your orgasm hits you like cool water on a warm day. You feel him smirk against your thigh, leaving you with lasting, small kisses before lifting his face and revealing your essence on the lower half. You cover your mouth to hold back your giggles, and he rolls his eyes, leaning over and kissing your lips. “I’m not sorry,” you breathe. “You knew what you were doing.”
“You shouldn’t be,” he smirks. “Especially when I’m going to make you do it again.”
Seungcheol lifts your leg, pulling himself back as he rubs his throbbing dick against your entrance. Your eyes grow wide as he taps your sensitive, swollen clit, a mischievous grin on his face. 
“Don’t worry, baby,” he says as if reading your thoughts. “I’m going to start slow.” “You don’t want me to blo—” you start to protest. “No, I’ve waited long enough,” his deep and velvety voice serves as a warning. FUCK.
He enters you inch by inch, stretching you out the way you like, your fingers already gripping the sheets. You look at him through a hazy daze, his focus on burying himself deep inside of you, bringing you a deep satisfaction. You enjoy watching his Adam’s apple shift when he moans, his voice barely audible while he dives into you. You remember the first time you slept together; he had your legs over his shoulder, fucking you long and deep on top of your blue couch at your old place. You both didn’t intend for it to happen that way; you were caught up in the highs of seeing a band you both enjoy, and one thing led to another. His dick is long with a bit of a curve, fitting perfectly like your pussy was molded and made for him. No one has even come close. 
“Give it to me,” you breathe. “Please, I need you bad.” Seungcheol loves it when you beg for it, and he obliges, his thrusts becoming harder, deeper. Maybe it’s because you love him, but he is the sexiest thing you’ve ever seen. The way his hips roll as he snaps into you, watching him come in and out of you with your wetness coating him, turns you on. Your hands grasp his face, your thumb slipping into his mouth as he fucks you silly. You can barely form words in your head, let alone say anything else but “fuck” and “make me cum”. He fucks you in a way that makes you have wet dreams and leaves you with a puddle in your sheets. If he were a Greek god, he would be Eros, the god of love and sex. That’s how bad he has you. “Turn over,” you grit your teeth. You lean up and flip him over, his throbbing cock still inside you as you are on top of him. You let your body take over, riding him while his hands are placed firmly on your breasts. You set the pace, and he follows, a harmonious rhythm between the two of you, your senses heightened to another level. You are on this incredible high, sliding on his shaft while you vigorously play with your clit, ready to cum. “Did you miss this?  He teases you as he grinds harder into you. “Did you miss sitting on this dick until you cum?” You nod fervently, your hand still playing with your clit, and you are ready to explode. 
“Fuck,” he grits his teeth. “I’m close. Let’s come together like we always do.” You erupt, screaming his name while he sloppily pumps into you, his hair sweaty and his succulent lips red from biting. He leans up and kisses you hard, your moans and words of praise swallowed and digested. Whatever you were going to say, he felt it more, your hearts beating in unison powered by your feelings for each other. He talks you through it, helping you come down from your high before he releases his own, spilling into you until he is completely spent. You’ve been on birth control for years, and Seungcheol is the only person you’ve let hit without a condom. It just feels so right with him. You roll off of him, collapsing on your pillow as you try and catch your breath. His breathing is relaxed, and when you gaze at him, his eyes are closed, already half asleep. You attempt to get out of bed, but he grabs your arm, pulling you close to him. 
“Stay,” he kisses your shoulder. “I sleep better when you’re with me.” 
You can’t deny him when he is in this state, pulling on your heartstrings like that. 
“Fine, you win,” you say without much effort. 
Glancing at the time, it’s after 12, and fatigue finally hits you at least. Snuggling into him, you fall into a deep sleep, but not before admitting that you still love him and would do anything for him. 
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The sunlight is not kind as it peers through your windows and wakes you up a little after 9. You had forgotten to draw the curtains before you fell asleep, but you didn’t have much energy left after the night you had. You woke him up after three, sucking his cock until he exploded down your throat, and he returned the favor by eating you out until you were ripe from overstimulation. You made such a mess that you had to change your sheets and listen to him teasing you about your “old lady” sheets. Whatever, you liked them.
You rolled over, and Seungcheol was already awake, scrolling through his phone. He notices you and kisses your forehead before removing your blanket and smacking your ass.
“Good morning, beautiful,” he says, leaning back against the headboard.
You chuckle as you get out of bed, grab your silk robe, and walk into the bathroom. You feel sore; last night’s shenanigans are indeed catching up with you. You just want to lay in bed and relax, but you have this nagging feeling in your stomach. You could brush it off and deal with it later, but knowing you, you will overthink, turning it into something it's not. You have to know how he feels.
Finishing up in the bathroom, you leave to find him setting orange juice on your nightstand with a couple of ibuprofen. He is only dressed in his sweats and nothing underneath, your center aching for him despite the tenderness you feel.
“What’s wrong?” he asks, reading your look. You have never had a good poker face.
You sit down on the bed, take your two pills, and wash them down with orange juice. You allow yourself to get your thoughts in order. You're unsure what to say, but you know the conversation needs to be had.
“What are we doing?” you blurt out. “I love you, and you never stopped loving me. Why can’t we just get it right?”
The silence is too deafening for your liking. It would be like you to tear the band-aid off first thing in the morning. But you hate being in the dark, not knowing what the future will hold. You’re not saying that you have to jump the broom, but you have to know if there’s any chance he feels the same way you do.
“I-I-m sorry,” you shake your head. “I shouldn’t have sprung that on you first thing in the morning. Forget I said anything.” 
You attempt to leave the room before Seungcheol catches your arm and motions for you to sit down. Grudgingly, you do, sitting on your ottoman and facing him. “You didn’t even give me a chance to respond,” he complains. “You can’t always assume how I feel is something bad. Give me a chance.” You nod, knowing deep down he is right. “You are right,” He admits. “I love you, and this song and dance we’ve been doing for years is tired. I came to you last night because I missed you and I need you. You’re the only one in my life who has always kept it straight with me, even when you get on my nerves.” You smirk at his comment, knowing it’s true. “But we have also been apart for a long time, and as much as I want to jump back into our usual routine, I recognize we have grown up a bit and need to get to know each other as our different selves.” You nod slowly, mulling over his words, unsure what to say. “I also don’t want to see anyone else,” he breathes. “You are the only person I want to see, to do this with.” He points at the sheets, and you roll your eyes. It would be like him to somehow bridge it back to sex. 
“So…” your voice trails off. “What are we then? We are more than friends but not together? I don’t understand.” “I want to be with you,” he grabs your hands. “If we fight and storm off to our houses, I’d rather it be that then we break up and don’t talk for months at a time. I hate that.” You nod, finally understanding what he is saying. He is scared of the future, just like you are. But in this life, you would rather go through it with him than anyone else. You have too much time and feelings just to throw it away. “Maybe we can try talking to someone about it this time around?” You say. “A therapist or something? I want to be with you, and maybe working through our issues to understand each other better sometimes is what we need.” “Yeah, I’m open to that.” He hugs you, embracing you tightly before leaving sweet kisses on your face. You are deathly ticklish, and he knows it. He moves his kisses elsewhere until you find yourself in your bed, his body towering over yours. He leaves you one more kiss on your lips before laying his head on your chest. “We’re going to be okay,” he whispers.
You look down and smile, caressing the dark stresses in his hair.
“Yeah. We will be.”
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bouquetface · 3 months
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SYNASTRY OBSERVATIONS 2
Accuracy influenced by entire natal chart. This is NOT a person read. Looking at only aspect or placement will only give general information.
Lilith conjunct ASC:
Strong attraction. A forbidden kind of attraction. Could be due to many reasons. Possible examples:
One is significantly older, One is already in a relationship at the time of meeting, One could be a coworker or person in authority.
Chiron conjunct ASC:
Chiron person could be triggered by ASC person. Due to their lifestyle, attitude or approach to life.
For EX, let’s say this occurs in the sign of gemini. This sign is typically fast, curious and communicative. The chiron person may have grown up misunderstood their entire lives. They struggle to communicate and/or be understood effectively. The ASC gemini person likely has a fast thinking, fast moving way of life. They’re curious, bore easily and move onto the next topic fast. If the ASC gemini person isn’t willing to slow down, they risk hurting chiron. As chiron may not feel they mix well with ASC person’s lifestyle.
Chiron conjunct Venus:
An amazing placement especially if the man is venus. Venus’s natural way of expressing love can heal chiron.
I’ve seen this happen in the sign of Capricorn. In past relationships, chiron questioned whether they were enough. Their ex critiqued them and negatively compared them to other women.
In their marriage with a Venus Cap, they feel absolutely appreciated and admired.
Sun conjunct Venus:
The couple above also has this aspect. The woman is a Cap sun, she naturally has the traits this Venus Cap desires in a wife. The Venus Cap often talks highly about her. He tells her and others he can’t believe she even exists because she is his dream girl. He has said before he’s shocked someone so perfect would be with him. This aspect can be a good ego boost for the Venus person.
Venus conjunct Jupiter:
Really positive. When these two are together there is an abundance of love and joy. A good marriage/long term connection indicator. It’s hard to resist each other because of the good times/feelings you have when together.
The only downside, these two may overindulge too much when together. Leading to enabling behaviour. Possibly overspending and overdoing.
So while it can be good, 2 times I’ve seen this as Jupiter feeling drained in the end. They poured so much into Venus to keep them happy but Venus never felt satisfied/always desired more. The other 1 time I’ve known a couple with this aspect, it resulted in marriage. I believe this aspect may work better when Jupiter is the man & Venus is the woman.
Chiron conjunct Chiron:
This can manifest as bonding over similarities in your past struggles. However, if both are not in a matured stage of life, they may trigger each other. Bringing out the worst behaviours in each other.
Moon Square Moon:
This could create tension that leads to passion. Scorpio and fire sign venus may enjoy this aspect in their relationships. However, it may lead to emotional pain. Both could struggle to understand & properly care for the other.
Aries Moon Square Cancer Moon:
This is particularly difficult from what I’ve seen. The aries moon felt the cancer moon is “weak” and “overly sensitive”. The aries moon expresses passion in a more aggressive & teasing manner. The cancer moon, especially if they don’t have fire sign placements, could be hurt by this. They don’t understand and/or like the way aries moon’s expresses themselves.
COMPOSITE CHART OBSERVATIONS:
MC conjunct Uranus: To outsiders, the relationship feels unstable. The relationship may have on and off stages.
Mars in 12th. Generally, this isn’t a good placement. Indicates hidden resentment. One person likely does not fully understand the reason for the other’s anger/frustration.
- I’ve seen this manifest as a woman who many bad experiences with men in the past. This made her untrusting of her boyfriend. She feels past experiences made her take some frustrations out on her boyfriend. He did not fully understand her angry outbursts since he wasn’t doing anything wrong.
Moon in 12th. A positive manifestation is knowing what the other needs subconsciously. You are in tune with each other’s feelings on a deeper level.
A negative manifestation is one person’s emotional needs are not being met. For this reason, they are unable to feel comfortable and properly loved.
2nd house ruler in 12th. In my opinion, this is the worst to have. This suggests one’s ability to feel secure is lost. Trust does not come easy. Communication needs to be strong to overcome this placement.
12th H Libra
12th can reveal what may potentially break the couple up or be a hidden problem in the relationship. By hidden I mean issues that are repressed or a sub conscious issue.
In the sign of Libra, inability to compromise, inability to peacefully resolve problems and inability to be make decisions together could be a problem.
Venus in 12th H
The couple may struggle with emotional intimacy. The physical is easy and enjoyable but emotionally opening up is not.
This can indicate a relationship where for some reason the couple hides their love when in front of people. And/Or they hide their true feelings from each other.
This is a tricky placement. While the two are interested in one another, creating a harmonious connection is not easy. Peace is disrupted. The couple can be chaotic.
Jupiter in 12th H
This is actually positive in my experience. The couple has luck on their side to solve any issues. However, luck may not be enough to save the connection if it turns sour. Yet, there will be many opportunities to resolve their problems. The two have a genuine desire to fight for one another. The two can understand each other on an intuitive level. You just get each other.
Example: This is actually my friend’s observation. She observed in the composite of her parents, Jupiter and Venus are in conjunction in 12th H. She told me her parents have had a lot of struggles but remain happily together. There is an abundance of love.
Her mom once told her, her and her dad were literally made for one another. No matter what problems arises only the two of them will be able to help one another. No one else will be able to understand them.
Some astrologers say Venus is the wife and Jupiter is the husband so when conjunct in composite, it can be that saving grace placement.
Sun in First House
The relationship can be the main focus of your life. This can be good or bad. It’s not healthy to cut off your own personal life to cater to one person. But if you can maintain your own identities, this should be a good placement.
I’ve noticed when this is in composite the couple can become known for the relationship. Especially, if Sun is the 10th H ruler and/or if the 10th H has many planets.
Mars in First House
There can be a lot of energy in this relationship. Arguments are bound to happen in any relationship but for this one in particular there will be many. If you are two people who are good at resolving issues and kind of enjoy a more chaotic dynamic, this can work out well.
However, if you don’t like your peace disrupted and fights make you uneasy, this is not a good indicator for a relationship.
You may become known for being “that couple”. Good or bad. Depending on whether people find out about your fights.
Mercury in First House
You don’t fear judgement when together. You can talk about anything and everything. This is a good indicator. A couple that never runs out of things to talk about. It isn’t necessarily a romantic or sexual indicator. So if not supported by other placements in the chart, this can be a relationship where the spark dies out quickly. Better off as friends kind of relationship.
Uranus & Neptune in 4th H
This relationship has a rocky foundation. You may love the idea of what can be more than what is happening. Fantasizing about how you’ll become a better couple when in reality it’s not going so well.
This can be an on and off connection. Whether you are together and committed to one another is not always clear.
However, the positive manifestation is you both value freedom. You have mutual respect for one another. You may have a non traditional start to the connection. The two may constantly move around. You may have to leave home throughout your lives. Not necessarily negative it could be possibly due to work.
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jetii · 3 months
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Home is a Place on Coruscant
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Pairing: Captain Rex x fem!Reader
Words: 10,705
Tags/Warnings: 18+ only! angst, hurt/comfort, discussion of grief/death, some description of blood/injuries, mutual pining, friends to lovers, smut, dirty talk, a little brat taming, oral sex (m and f receiving), penetration, unprotected sex, light exhibitionism but not really
Summary: You've always been there for Rex, and when he shows up at your door in the middle of the night after a devastating mission, you do what you do best: take care of him.
A/N: The start of this fic has been sitting in my notes app since the TCW season finale many moons ago, and it wasn't until I read this drabble by @djarrex that I felt compelled to actually finish it. Rex is my fav and he deserves to be taken care of.
It's been about a decade since I've published a fic and about a decade since I've been active on tumblr, so I decided to start from scratch with this blog. Feedback is very much appreciated! I have a few more drafts in the works for Echo, Howzer, Kix, Tech, and Hunter that I'm planning to publish depending on the reception to this one.
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Rain on Coruscant was rare. But when it came, it came in torrents, and it came all at once.
In the early hours of morning, while the planet was still sleeping, the sky opened up and let loose a downpour that threatened to flood the lower levels. It was so heavy, it even drowned out the traffic noise coming from the speeders that were still flying over the city at the early hour. The noise was soothing, almost like a lullaby, and the sound of it woke you.
You were used to this sound. You were used to it, because you were used to not being able to sleep for more than an hour or two at a time. It was one of the many things about living in the Jewel of the Core Worlds that was taking you longer than you would have liked to adjust to.
The traffic noise, the bustle, the crowds—it all made your homeworld of Rion seem very far away. You could never hear anything over the speeder traffic here, and you likely would've gone mad long ago if not for the trickling of the fountain you kept in the main room. It had been your mother's. You were glad it had come with you when you moved.
The rain was heavy enough that you could hear it inside the apartment, a pleasant hum against the transparisteel. You sat in the window seat, arms folded around your knees, watching the rain fall. The view from your window was not the best in the Galactic City, but it was still quite good, and at night it was beautiful, all the lights of the skyscrapers blurring together in the rain.
The rain would be good for the plants.
You had a garden, a modest one. Some of the plants were native to your world. A few were native to Coruscant. Most were from other worlds. They were your pride and joy. Caring for them had given you something to do when you were adjusting to your new life here. You watered and pruned and tended to them all, and in the spring you were rewarded for your efforts.
Rex had been baffled, at first, by the sight of you out in the courtyard behind the complex, on your knees in the dirt, digging and weeding. It was a little piece of nature on a planet that didn't have much, and Rex was amazed that someone could take so much joy in something so… natural. It was nothing like what he'd been raised to appreciate, which was a good vantage point, a well-maintained blaster, and a plan.
When he'd told you as much, you had invited him to kneel down beside you, and, hesitantly, he'd done so. You handed him a spade and pointed to a patch of soil.
"See that little green leaf poking up?" you asked, and Rex followed your gaze. "See it?"
"I see it."
"Plant the spade right under it. When you pull it up, the root will come with it."
"Like this?" Rex had pulled the spade up, and a plant had come with it. He examined it, then tossed it aside, into the compost.
"That's perfect. That's just how you're supposed to do it. See, you're a natural."
Rex smiled, pleased with the praise. "Yeah?"
"Yeah. Now, let's get the rest of these weeds."
You'd worked in the garden until the sun was setting. Your hands had been dirty, and you had been smiling, and Rex had thought you were the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen.
He would probably never tell you as much. He'd been trying to think of ways to tell you, and nothing seemed good enough. There was nothing good enough for you. So instead he told you about the missions he went on. And you listened. You always listened.
You wondered if Rex had heard the rain start. You wondered if it was keeping him awake, too. You wanted him to sleep. He was always so tired, and the last thing you wanted was for him to be exhausted when he came home from his mission.
If he came home.
It was an irrational thought. The missions were dangerous, yes, but the 501st had some of the best soldiers in the galaxy. And Rex was a good captain. A good leader.
But there was always the possibility. The risk.
You were intimately acquainted with the feeling of waiting for someone, and the way it tore you apart. It was a risk, being this close to Rex and the other clones of the 501st. It was a risk, feeling the way you did.
It was a risk, but you did anyway.
You look out at the rain, and the speeders that still flew through it. You wonder how they could fly through the storm, and not be afraid.
You're just about to turn away from the window when a noise behind you makes you jump. There, underneath the sound of the rain battering against the transparisteel, the sound of a knock at your door. You almost don’t think it is real, that it's simply a part of the soundscape of the rainy morning, but it comes again, three short raps.
You slide out of bed, fumbling to grab the clothes you tossed on the floor the night before. You don't bother to put on pants, but pull a long shirt over your head and tiptoe to the door, peering through the peephole.
The rain is heavier now, and the clouds are dark, almost black. The white shape in the hall is familiar, though, and it makes your heart race. You open the door, filling the small entryway with the scent of fresh rainwater and humidity.
"Rex," you say. "What are you doing here?”
He’s stoic, still and silent under your gaze, but you can see the tremble in his hands at his sides. The downpour seems to have washed the majority of dirt and debris from his armor, but bits of red still run through the cracks. An hour ago, he was likely covered with whatever the substance was — Umbaran dust or something more sinister — but the rain did well enough to wash it off.
He must’ve walked here, you realize, eyes widening. Your bottom lip pulls to worry between your teeth as you notice the new dents and marks on him. Carbon scoring on his shoulder plate, a tear in his kama, and what seems to be a blaster hole in his chest plate.
"I… I don’t know," he says after a moment. His voice is quiet, rough through the modulation of his helmet. It's as if the words are being dragged up from his lungs.
"I shouldn’t have. I… I should have called. I just… I had to see you.”
The words hang between you, suspended like the raindrops in the air. You feel tears prickle at the corner of your eyes. You can't believe he's here. He's here, and he's alive. You'd known he would be, but to see him with your own eyes, to have him in front of you, fills you with an immense sense of relief.
But something is clearly wrong. He's not saying what's bothering him, and you're almost too afraid to ask.
“Rex, what happened?”
You reach for him, only to have your hand meet nothing but humid air as he pulls back.
“It’s late, sorry for disturbing you—“
He turns to go, and this time you’re faster. Your hand encloses around his wrist and pulls him to a stop before he can take another step.
“Wait, Rex— please, just… stay. Just for a moment. Come in, you're getting soaked."
He lets out a slow breath and then, after a moment, he jerks a stiff nod. He allows you to drag him inside your apartment and, as the door slides shut behind him, he lifts his hands to the seal of his helmet. You watch him closely as he pulls it free and reveals the face beneath.
There are smudges of grime on his golden skin, and a deep furrow has formed between his eyebrows. He looks haunted, as if the shadows from the battlefield have followed him home. You want to smooth that line out with your thumb, but you aren’t sure he will let you.
You don't ask if you can touch him, but he notices the way your fingers twitch, and he knows you well enough to know that you're thinking about it.
"It's fine," he murmurs. He's never said no to you. "Go ahead."
He doesn't say please, and that hurts a little, but you're not surprised. Rex has been holding you at arm's length ever since he kissed you a few months back, and you know why. You just wish you knew how to help him.
So, you touch him. You brush your fingers across his cheek, wiping away the grime. You know that he doesn't need to be cleaned, but the motions are soothing. Your gentle touch is a balm, and you can feel his tension ease ever so slightly as you brush your fingers over his face.
"What happened?" you ask again, voice barely above a whisper.
"A lot." He lets out a slow breath and leans a little into your touch. He's exhausted, and he's relieved to see you, and the two warring emotions are pulling him in different directions. Rex opens his mouth to say more, but the words die on his tongue. He shakes his head, unable to continue, and closes his eyes.
"Come sit down."
You take him by the hand and lead him over to the couch. You sit first, and he follows suit, sitting a respectable distance from you. The distance doesn't seem right. When you'd met him, Rex had been so full of confidence, even when he'd been a little bit awkward, a little bit unsure. But the war had changed him. He was still the same man, still confident and brave and intelligent, but the weight of responsibility had settled on his shoulders, and the burden was crushing him.
You want to tell him it's going to be okay. You want to say it, but the words sound hollow in your mind.
You shift, moving closer, and Rex moves, too. The distance between you shrinks, and the tension eases. You don’t much care that he’s wearing armor, or that the rainwater is leaving damp spots on the upholstery.
Rex reaches for you, and his hands tremble. His gloves are damp, and his armor is cold, and the chill sends a shiver up your spine when he touches your knee. His eyes are distant, and he doesn't quite meet yours, and his expression is so, so sad.
“Hardcase is gone,” he closes his eyes to avoid seeing the look on your face. You can’t help but gasp at the admission, and a soft sob slips past your lips.
You had met Hardcase once, very briefly. He had been charming and charismatic and kind, if a little wild, and you had liked him immediately. He had flirted with you, and Rex had rolled his eyes and tried to hide a smile behind his cup. Hardcase had been fun, and loud, and a little bit reckless.
You had not known him as well as some of the others on his squad, but the pain in Rex's eyes, the grief in his voice, was enough to make it hurt.
"Oh, Rex, I'm so sorry," you murmur.
Rex nods, and his jaw tightens. You can tell that he's trying not to cry, and you can't imagine how hard it must be, to carry such a heavy weight all by himself.
When he speaks again, your blood runs cold.
“We were betrayed. One of our own— one of the Jedi, he—" his breath hitches. “Oz, Ringo — Dozens of them, my brothers. They’re all gone.
"Betrayed?"
You feel like the bottom has dropped out from beneath you.
You knew the war was dangerous, and that Rex's job was dangerous, but the idea that it could go wrong in such a fundamental way?
The Jedi had always seemed so wise, and so strong, and so just. It had always seemed like there was nothing they couldn't do. To know that one of them could betray their men — could betray the Republic, and the innocent people of the galaxy — was too terrible to contemplate.
Your hand finds his cheek again, and this time, his eyes find yours.
They're shining, but his tears don't fall. He's a soldier, and he knows better than to show weakness, even here. You wish he would let himself break. You wish he would let you hold him, and let his tears fall, and let you help him put the pieces back together.
"Rex," you murmur, "I'm so, so sorry."
He leans into your touch, closing his eyes, and your thumb wipes away some of the wetness that has gathered there.
He pulls back for a moment, and you think he’s pulling away completely before he leans closer. His arms slide around your waist, pulling you tight to him as he buries his head in your shoulder. You immediately return the embrace, one arm over his shoulders while your other hand lifts to hold the back of his head.
You’re not sure how long they stay like that or how many tears are shed between you. After some time, he begins to speak, and you listen while running a soothing hand over his head, trying desperately to keep from sobbing outright as he tells you about the traitorous Jedi Pong Krell.
It’s by far the greatest atrocity you’ve ever heard, and to know that Rex has to put his helmet back on and get back to work in a matter of days makes you sick to your stomach.
He doesn’t deserve this, you think as you pull him into another embrace. None of them do.
Something about the motion causes him to wince, and you immediately release him to grab hold of both his shoulders.
“Are you hurt?” You ask, eyebrows knitting together in concern.
His hesitation is answer enough, and you can feel a wave of anger rise in your chest. How could they let him come back, in the state that he's in? How could they ask this of him, after all he's already done?
“I’m fine, cyare. Armor took most of it.”
If it weren’t for the way he avoided your gaze, you’d believe him, but instead you just feel yourself grow more upset. “What did Kix say?”
“Uh, he didn’t—“
“Rex, you were shot, and you didn’t think to get medical attention?”
His expression darkens, and you can see him withdrawing again. His shoulders pull back, and he pulls his chin up, and the distance between you grows again.
“I didn’t think much of anything, to be honest.” He mutters. It breaks your heart, but it also throws more coals on the anger burning inside of you. Not anger at him, you know, even though you can’t help but let out a sigh of exasperation. “I’ll be alright.”
“Like hell you will be,” you bite out before taking a step back to help him stand. “C’mon. Let’s get you patched up.”
You're angry. You're so, so angry. How could he let himself get hurt? How could he come here and not tell you about it? How could they send him home, to you, after all he's been through, knowing that he was injured?
But there's nothing you can do about any of that now, and being angry at him isn't going to help.
“You don’t have to—“ He protests through words only, allowing you to drag him through the living room and into the refresher.
“Yes, I do.” You shut him down quickly as you flick the light on and turn to rummage underneath your sink.
He’s still standing in the center of the room when you stand back up to full height, looking uncomfortable at your fussing. It’s not the first time you’ve had to patch him up, but so far it’s just been cuts and bruises. It’s unknown territory for you both, and he holds himself like he’s waiting for you to give up and shoo him out.
Your hands find his shoulders, and you gently push him down to sit at the edge of your bathtub. He’s pliant in your hold, but he meets your eyes with the worried pinch between his brows he gets whenever he thinks he’s upset you.
“Rex, let me take care of you,” you plead softly, and the furrow deepens.
He can hear the way your voice breaks. He can see the worry in your eyes. You're scared, and he hates that he's done that to you.
He should have known better. He should have taken a moment, to collect himself, before coming to see you. He shouldn't have let his emotions overwhelm him. He should have kept it together.
You were always there for him, and you listened, and he could tell you anything. He should have told you that he was okay. That would have been the responsible thing to do.
But he didn't. He couldn't.
And now, he can't seem to do the one thing you ask him.
But, after a moment, Rex relaxes. He’s never been able to say no to you before, and it is no different now. His shoulders slump a little, and the furrow smoothes, and you can't help but think that his face looks much nicer like this. You wish he wouldn't be so hard on himself.
"Okay," he murmurs.
It's all the encouragement you need. You lift his hand, cradling it gently, and begin to remove his gloves and armor piece by piece. You set the pieces aside, careful to keep them in order, and you know he appreciates that. It's a little thing, but it helps. You make a note to clean it for him before he leaves, the sight of the red smeared across its surface churning your stomach.
It's quiet between the two of you. The only sounds in the room are the rain and the gentle clink of plastoid against the floor as the last piece is removed.
You're grateful for the silence, though. You're not sure what you would say, and you know that he needs this, needs the moment to breathe.
"Where does it hurt?" You ask.
He hesitates. There's a lot of pain, all over his body. But you can't do anything about the pain that aches in his bones, or the ache in his chest. He doesn't know how to tell you about that.
"Chest," he finally admits. "Took a hit in the vest. Knocked the wind outta me."
That was an understatement, but you didn't need to know that. He could barely breathe, when it had happened, but the rest of his brothers needed him, and he didn't have the time to worry about his own injuries.
"Can you get it off?" You ask.
He gives a slight nod and reaches his arm up to grab the neck of his blacks, slowly pulling it overhead to reveal the skin underneath. Your eyes widen slightly at the sight of him, and you feel a flush rising up your neck and onto your cheeks.
The only light in the room is the faint glow from the bulb above the mirror. It casts shadows across the planes of his muscles, and you can't help but drink in the sight of him. His chest is strong and broad, and a line of hair disappears beneath the waistband of his blacks.
There's a blaster mark on his sternum, just above his right pec, not far off from the scar in the center of his chest he’d earned on Salucemi. It’s weeping blood slowly, trickling down the curve of his muscle, and you can see the red, puffy skin surrounding the injury.
It isn't terrible. A few inches to the left, and it could have been fatal. A few inches to the right, and the armor could have deflected the bolt entirely.
Still, you know that he's in pain, and the knowledge is enough to make the tears prickle at the corners of your eyes again. You force yourself to swallow them back and, instead, you reach for a damp cloth to wipe the wound clean.
He hisses at the contact, and you can see him grit his teeth against the pain. His hand moves to grasp the edge of the tub, and you can't help but feel guilty. You want to tell him to relax, to try and ease his suffering, but you know he wouldn't listen. He never listens, not when it comes to his own wellbeing.
"Sorry," you murmur, but the cloth keeps moving. You have to clean the wound, so you can treat it properly.
“Where’d you learn this, anyways?"
"What, first aid?" You're surprised by the question.
"Mhm."
“My dad was a swoop racer, believe it or not,” you say softly. You don't talk about him very often. It still hurts. But this feels like the right moment.
Rex tilts his head curiously, watching your face. You can see his expression soften, and you know he can tell how difficult it is for you to speak about this.
"Really?"
You nod, your eyes focused on your work. “My mom was always patching him up, and I’d sit on the counter and help out where I could. When she passed, I took over.”
“Isn’t swoop racing illegal?”
“Hm, not on Rion, it’s not.” You finish cleaning the wound and move to grab the bacta bandages. “Maybe if it was, he wouldn't have gotten himself killed."
You're not sure what possessed you to be so blunt, but the words are out, and there's no taking them back. Rex blinks, shocked by your honesty. You feel embarrassment creeping up the back of your neck.
"Sorry," you murmur, keeping your eyes low. "That was… I shouldn't have said that."
Rex says nothing. He knows better than to try and coddle you, and besides, you've always been the one doing the comforting, not the other way around. But it doesn’t sit well with him to see you like this, and before he knows what he’s doing, he reaches out to you.
His hand lifts, and he tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear. You can't help but lean into his touch. He's so warm, and his hand is calloused and gentle. He cups the back of your head, guiding you forward, and his lips press against your forehead.
You can feel the tears welling up in your eyes as the cloth slips from your fingers, and you cling to him. You feel terrible, for complaining about the loss of your father when Rex has lost so much.
"I’m sorry," he murmurs, and you're not sure if he means for asking or for Hardcase or for the war or for everything, and you can't bring yourself to ask.
“It’s alright,” you whisper back. He lets you pull away from him to busy yourself with sorting bacta patches, but you can feel his eyes on you.
"Is that why you came to Coruscant?” He asks softly, his tone careful and gentle.
Part of you wants to lie. You're tired, and you're hurting, and you're not sure you have the strength to have this conversation right now.
But the truth is already out, and if this will help him, you'll tell him anything.
You nod.
“He was actually really good at it,” you chuckle, and Rex can hear the bitterness in your voice. “But eventually he pissed off some powerful people who were placing the wrong bets. One day he left for a big race, and the next morning I found a box with his helmet at our doorstep. Or what was left of it.”
Rex sucks in a breath, and you can see his fists clenching and unclenching at his sides. He knew about the helmet, he’s seen it on the shelf in your living room. But he hadn't known the full story.
You look back up at him. There are tears in your eyes, but they don't fall. You're smiling, and your eyes are sad, and his heart breaks.
“I tried to get the police involved, the racing league, anyone I could get to listen to me, but no one would investigate. I was so angry. Then I started getting threats. I couldn’t…” You shake your head, trying to rid the memories. "I couldn’t stay. So I moved here. And then the war started, and then I met you.”
It seems like a lifetime ago. The days before Rex felt like someone else's life, and you wonder how you ever managed without him. You'd been so lost, and so alone, and you'd felt like the universe was crashing down on you, and he'd pulled you out from underneath the rubble just by being there.
"I'm so sorry, cyar'ika," Rex murmurs.
You reach forward and gently lay a hand on his chest, pressing the bacta patch into place. His skin is soft beneath your touch, and you can't help but think, not for the first time, about how beautiful he is.
"I'm glad that you're here," you tell him softly. "That you made it back, I mean. I'm glad you came home."
Home. Rex swallows thickly.
He's never had a home before, not really. Home had been a word for people with families and futures. Home had been a word for normal, everyday people, not clones.
Home had always seemed like such a far away concept, something he'd never get to experience.
But, suddenly, the idea isn't quite so foreign. Home. With you.
"I'm glad I came back too," he finally murmurs, and his hand lifts to hold yours.
You're quiet, your eyes tracing the lines of his face, and his gaze finds yours.
There's something different between the two of you, something charged and heavy. You know you need to pull away. He needs to rest. You're both exhausted.
But you can't. You can't stop looking at him. He's beautiful, and he's kind, and he's the bravest person you've ever known. You've never loved anyone the way that you love him.
"Cyare," he whispers, and the word makes your heart stutter, even if you don’t know what it means.
He's not sure what comes over him. Maybe it's the way you're looking at him. Maybe it's the fact that, after the past couple of weeks, he thought he'd never see you again. Maybe it's that, for once, you're letting him take care of you. Maybe it's because you're so beautiful and you're so close and he loves you, he's so in love with you, and he doesn't know how much longer he can stand to go without saying something.
Whatever it is, he knows he needs to say something, and he knows he needs to do it now.
"I'm so glad I met you," he whispers, and it's the best he can do, but he hopes it's enough.
He reaches forward, and his hand finds the curve of your cheek, and the touch is enough to send a spark through your skin. You can feel the heat building inside of you, the desire pooling in your core, and the air in the room is electric.
"Me too," you manage.
His lips find yours.
You gasp against his mouth, and your arms wrap around his shoulders, his fingers digging into the flesh of your hips. You're pulling each other closer, as close as you can possibly get, and it's not close enough.
Rex moans softly against your lips, and you can't help the way your hips twitch, or the way you whimper into his mouth. You're both desperate, and eager, and it's the sweetest relief.
He stands and turns, lifting you up and sitting you on the edge of the counter, and his body presses against yours. Your legs part, welcoming him, and his hips slot perfectly between them. His hands are on your thighs, gripping and pulling and massaging the flesh.
"Rex," you gasp, breaking away from his lips.
He takes the opportunity to press his lips against your throat, his tongue and teeth working the delicate skin. He sucks at your pulse point, and you whine. You know that there will be marks in the morning, but you can't bring yourself to care.
"Rex," you whine again, and you're not sure why, not exactly, because all you want is for him to keep doing what he's doing, to let him claim you and mark you and make you his. But you're overwhelmed, and you need to catch your breath, and his name is the only word your brain can think.
His fingers tighten, and his lips lift from your skin. He’s watching you with dark eyes and swollen lips, chest heaving.
"I need…" he trails off, and he doesn't finish the sentence, but you understand.
He's holding himself back. He doesn't want to push you, doesn't want to assume, but you can feel the need rolling off of him.
He's desperate.
You are too.
“Let me take care of you,” you whisper.
Rex sucks in a breath. There are a lot of things that he could say, but the only thing he can manage is your name, soft and needy, and you can hear the way his voice breaks.
The sound makes you ache.
Your hand finds his jaw, and your thumb runs along his bottom lip. He's looking at you with the most adoring eyes, and your heart feels like it's about to burst.
"Please," he breathes.
It's all the encouragement you need. Your lips find his, and his hands find your hips. He lifts you off of the counter and into his arms, and your legs wrap tightly around his waist. His fingers dig into the backs of your thighs, grabbing and holding and massaging the flesh. You're not sure how the two of you make it into the bedroom. All you can think about is Rex's lips, his teeth and tongue and hands, and the way he's carrying you like you weigh nothing, his hardness digging into your hip.
It's a miracle he doesn’t trip over the pile of dirty laundry on the floor.
His knees hit the mattress, and he leans down to lay you gently on the bed, his eyes never leaving yours. There's a tenderness to his actions, a sweetness in the way he handles you, that makes you shiver. His thumbs trace the lines of your hipbones underneath your shirt, and he smiles at the sound of your breath catching in your throat.
"Are you sure?" He whispers, and the words are enough to make you ache.
His hands are so gentle, his face so earnest. He's always been so careful with you, and it makes you feel like the most important thing in the world.
"Yeah," you whisper, your hand coming up to rest against the side of his face.
Rex's smile is so beautiful, and it's so full of joy, and you can't help but return it. He turns his head and presses a kiss into the center of your palm.
His lips move, tracing the lines on your palm. His teeth nip gently at the tips of your fingers, and he watches as your breath catches.
He wants to take his time, to learn every inch of you, to map out the places that make you moan and the ones that make you scream, and the ones that make you laugh. He wants to kiss the scars and worship the stretchmarks and the freckles, and the dimples in your skin, and the wrinkles in the corners of your eyes, and the birthmark on your shoulder, and he wants to show you how beautiful you are, how perfect, how special, how loved.
He'll do it, eventually. But not tonight.
Tonight, he just needs you.
His fingers dip underneath the hem of your shirt, drawing it up slowly, and he can't help the groan that falls from his lips at the sight of you. You're suddenly, painfully aware of the fact that you'd never put on pants when you answered the door, let alone a bra, and you're almost embarrassed.
But the way Rex is looking at you after your shirt is tossed aside makes your stomach flutter, and the words die on your tongue.
"Mesh'la," he breathes, his eyes wide.
He can't seem to decide where to look, where to touch first, so you grab his hands and guide them. They slide across the planes of your stomach and over your ribs, and his fingers ghost the underside of your breasts, and your head falls back onto the pillows.
"Rex," you beg. "Please."
The sound of your plea is enough to spur him into action. His lips find the side of your neck, and his hand cups your breast, thumb finding your nipple and swiping over it.
You gasp, your back arching and hips bucking into his, and Rex moans softly. His teeth graze the line of your pulse, and he moves lower, and he pulls a nipple into his mouth.
"Fuck," you whimper, your nails scratching at the back of his neck.
You can feel the smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. He likes having this effect on you.
The hand on your other breast is kneading the flesh, and his lips are sucking at your nipple, his tongue tracing patterns on the delicate skin. His fingers pinch and pull, and you can feel the heat building between your legs.
"So sensitive," he hums, and the vibrations from his words send a tingle down your spine.
"Only for you," you breathe.
The words make his hips stutter, and the hardness of his cock presses into the wetness of your core. You can feel the outline of him against you, the heat and the thickness, and your breath catches.
You roll your hips into his, and Rex releases a groan, his teeth sinking into the soft skin of your breast.
"Kriff," he hisses, and the sound sends a shock of pleasure through you. Suddenly, you remember your promise.
"Lay back," you whisper, and his head lifts.
"What?"
You push at his shoulders, mindful of his bandages as you urge him backwards, and Rex follows your command. You move quickly, kneeling between his legs and grabbing the waistband of his blacks. You can see the outline of his hardness straining against the fabric, and you can't help but lick your lips.
"Can I?"
Rex's chest is heaving, his eyes blown black, and you can tell he's trying to process your question.
"Cyar'ika," he breathes, and the endearment makes your heart flutter. "You don't have to."
"I know," you tell him, your hand moving slowly up and down his thigh. Your head tilts thoughtfully. "Can I be honest?"
"Always," he replies.
"I've wanted to for a while."
You can feel the blush creeping up the back of your neck, and your eyes dart away from his. You don't know why, it's not like you've been hiding your attraction, but something about telling him is making you nervous.
"You have?"
His voice is soft, and his hand finds the back of your head. His touch is so gentle, and the surprise and happiness in his tone makes you bold.
"Yeah," you murmur, looking back up at him.
He looks stunned, but there's a light in his eyes, a warmth that you can feel spreading inside you too. "Why didn't you say anything?"
You shrug. "I didn't want to push."
It's his turn to blush. It's cute, the way his cheeks flush, and his eyes dart away. He almost looks embarrassed.
"Since we're being honest…" He starts.
"What?"
"Me too."
Your heart stutters, and a wide grin stretches across your face. The happiness building inside your chest is competing with the desire that courses through you at the knowledge that he's thought about this, about you, and the idea is almost too much. You're sure you must look like a fool smiling this much, but you can't bring yourself to care.
"You've thought about it?" You tease.
"Yeah," he breathes. "All the time."
"Tell me."
He groans, his fingers tangling in your hair, and you can see the way his cock twitches at your words. "I… Kriff, I've imagined it so many times. How good you'd look on your knees, with my cock in your mouth, or bent over, with my hands on your hips, or straddling me, riding me."
"What else?"
You've moved closer to him, and his fingers tighten in your hair, and you can feel the wetness between your thighs. You've never felt so desperate, so needy, and all you want is him, any part of him.
"I think about it all the time. What it would be like to have you in the barracks, in the 'fresher, in the hangar. You on your knees in my office. Fuck, everywhere. It's all I can think about sometimes."
You can feel the wetness growing between your thighs, and you can't stop the whine that falls from your lips. It's almost too much, hearing the things he's imagined, the ways he's wanted you, the times and places, and the need and desperation behind his words.
"Then will you let me?" You ask, and you hope the answer is yes, because you can't imagine stopping.
"Please," he breathes.
"What was that?"
Rex's grip on your hair tightens, his gaze locked on yours as he speaks again, his voice is low.
"Please, cyare."
That's all the encouragement you need. Your eyes don't leave his as your hands pull at the fabric, slowly revealing his length. He's bigger than you dared to imagine, and thicker, and the sight of him is enough to make your mouth water.
His eyes are wide, his pupils blown, and his mouth is hanging open slightly. The blush on his cheeks is spreading down his chest, and the muscles in his arms are tensed.
"So perfect," you hum, and you're not sure if you're talking to him or his cock.
You wrap your hand around him, and Rex's hips stutter. Your thumb swipes over the head, spreading the bead of precum, and his eyes fall shut.
"So sensitive," you tease.
"Cyare," he warns. There's an edge to his voice, and it makes you grin.
Your head dips down, and you press a kiss to the underside of his cock, and his hips jerk. You keep pressing kisses along his length, your fingers wrapping around the base. Rex is struggling to breathe. He's not even inside of you yet, and it already feels better than anything he's ever experienced before.
He opens his eyes to look down at you, and the sight of you on your knees in front of him is almost too much. He's dreamed about this moment, and fantasized, and he never, not in his wildest dreams, imagined that it would feel like this.
Your lips wrap around him, and Rex can't stop the way his hips thrust up. His cock brushes the back of your throat, and you gag, pulling back slightly with tears in your eyes.
"Sorry," he gasps, his cheeks flushing.
You shake your head as much as you can with his length in your mouth, and your eyes flash up to his.
You like this, he realizes with a start. You like being used, you like the feeling of him fucking into you, and the realization sends a shock of pleasure through him.
You bob your head slowly, and Rex watches, transfixed, as his cock disappears between your lips. Your tongue runs along the underside, and his eyes fall shut again.
"Maker," he moans.
Your hand is stroking what doesn't fit into your mouth, and your other is tracing the lines of his thighs, and his abs, and his V-lines. You can feel the muscles tensing and relaxing under your fingertips, and you can see the way his hips are straining, the effort he's making to keep still.
Your name falls from his lips like a prayer, and you hum softly in response. His fingers tighten in your hair, pulling gently, and his other hand comes to rest on the back of your head.
"Fuck, mesh'la," he moans, and the praise makes you preen.
You pull back, until only the head is between your lips, and swirl your tongue around him. He tastes sweet and salty and just the right amount of bitter, and you can't get enough.
"So good," he gasps. "So perfect, so beautiful."
He's babbling now, the words falling from his lips without him thinking about them, and you can't stop the grin. You'd always wondered if he was a talker.
"So perfect, cyar'ika, taking me so well." His voice is wrecked, and his breath is coming in ragged pants. "Feel so good. I could fuck your mouth all night."
His words make you shiver. He could. He could do anything he wanted with you, and you'd let him.
You move your head down, taking him as far as you can, and Rex's eyes open to watch you. You hold his gaze as his cock slides along the back of your tongue and hits the back of your throat, and you suppress the urge to gag.
"So pretty," he hums, his voice strained. "Such a good girl."
Your pussy throbs at the words, and the moan you release vibrates his length.
"That's it," he gasps.
You can feel the tears pooling at the corners of your eyes, but you keep moving, keep taking him, and his grip on your hair tightens.
"So good, mesh'la, so, so good."
He's repeating the words, and you're not sure if he knows he's saying them. Your jaw is starting to ache, your lips are sore, and there's drool dripping down your chin, but you can't stop the soft whimpers and moans.
The sounds are enough to drive him mad.
His hand moves to cup your cheek, and his thumb runs along your bottom lip, stretched around him. The gesture is so tender and loving, it's almost too much.
"Look at you," he breathes. "Kriff, I've wanted this for so long. So beautiful. So perfect. My perfect girl. You take me so well."
You hum again, and his head falls back, the movement pushing his cock deeper. You gag around him, and his hips stutter, a litany of Mando'a spilling from his lips. You're not sure what he's saying, but the words are making your cunt clench, the pleasure building inside of you overwhelming.
"I'm close, mesh'la," he gasps. "If you want to stop, you'd better— ah, kriff!"
You've pulled back, and the suction of your lips is incredible. Rex's hips are stuttering, his hands are tugging on your hair, and the sounds falling from his lips are enough to make your core throb.
"Mesh'la, please, I can't—"
His words die in his throat as you reach between his legs and roll his balls in your hand. The action sends him hurtling over the edge, and his hips thrust up one last time, pushing his cock down your throat as he comes.
Your throat works to swallow every drop. It's so much, more than you were expecting, and you struggle not to choke. His grip on your hair is borderline painful, but you don't mind. You can feel his whole body trembling, his breathing labored and his chest heaving.
You release him with a wet pop, and he shudders. You press one last kiss to the underside of his softening length, and he twitches, his body still sensitive.
"You're gonna kill me" he breathes.
"Hopefully not." You wipe your mouth, thumb catching a stray drop of cum and sucking it into your mouth, and you watch as his eyes darken.
He pulls you to him, and you climb back into his lap, his lips on yours. The kiss is slow and lazy, his hands running up and down your back, his body still shuddering from the force of his orgasm.
"Mesh'la," he sighs against your lips, his breath hot and heavy. "So beautiful."
His fingers trail down the side of your neck and between your breasts. They ghost the skin of your stomach and dip underneath the hem of your panties, and you can't help the whimper that escapes.
"Still want me?" You ask.
"Always."
His lips are on your neck, and his fingers find the wetness between your thighs, and you gasp. The noise that falls from his lips is filthy.
"Fuck, cyar'ika," he groans. "You're soaked."
"That's your fault," you manage.
His teeth graze your pulse, and his fingers brush against your clit, making your hips buck.
"Can't help it," you gasp.
You can't stop the cry of pleasure as his thumb presses down. His touch is gentle, almost hesitant, and you're not sure why. You've made it perfectly clear that you want this.
"Rex," you whimper. "Please."
He presses another kiss to your lips, and the hand not between your thighs wraps around your back, holding you steady. He teases your entrance, and your breath catches, and then his fingers are slipping inside.
"Ah, fuck," you hiss.
You're so wet, so slick, and his fingers slide in easily. Just two fingers already feel so thick, and you can feel your walls stretching around him. There's a dull ache, but it feels so good.
"Cyar'ika," he groans. "Fuck, so tight."
His fingers pump in and out slowly, and your head falls onto his shoulder.
"Faster," you gasp. "Please, Rex."
"Shh," he coos. "Patience, mesh'la."
"Please."
"Be a good girl and be patient for me."
You whine, the sound muffled by his shoulder. He's being cruel, teasing you like this. You've already had him once, and now he's drawing it out. "Rex, I need you."
He hums softly, pressing a kiss to your temple. His fingers are still pumping in and out, slowly, agonizingly, and you know he's doing it on purpose.
"I need you," you whimper.
"I'm here," he whispers.
"No, I— ah! I need you inside me."
You can feel his breath catch, and his fingers stutter, and then his lips are at your ear.
"How do you want me, mesh'la?"
"Like this," you breathe. "I want to ride you."
His breath hisses through his teeth, and his fingers speed up. The change in pace is enough to make your head spin, and the noises coming from your mouth are embarrassing. You sound desperate, and you are.
"Fuck, Rex."
"So good," he hums. "Such a good girl."
A third finger slides in beside the other two, and the stretch makes your back arch. You're not sure when he had the chance to slick his fingers with your wetness, but he must have. He's not hurting you, and the feeling is incredible.
"Rex, I'm gonna—"
"Not yet," he cuts you off.
"Please, I need to—"
"You'll wait," he growls, and the command is enough to make your toes curl.
"Please," you beg. "I'll be good, I promise, just—oh!"
Your plea is cut off by a sharp cry of pleasure, and your walls flutter around his fingers, your hips rocking back and forth.
"I said not yet."
"I'm sorry," you gasp, and the words come out strangled. "I couldn't help it, you feel so good."
He hums, his thumb finding your clit, and the stimulation is almost too much. His lips find yours, and his free hand holds you steady as his fingers move inside of you.
You writhe on top of him, your legs shaking, and you can feel the pleasure building in the pit of your stomach, and it's all too much.
"Please," you beg, and you're not even sure what you're asking for.
"What do you need?"
"Please," you gasp.
"Use your words, cyar'ika. What do you need?"
"I need— ah! I need you. I need more. Please."
He's torturing you, you realize. He's doing it on purpose, making you beg, punishing you for how you teased him earlier, and the thought of it makes your cunt throb.
"You've been so good for me, mesh'la. You think you've earned it?"
"Yes," you hiss. "I'll be good. Please, Rex, I'll be a good girl."
He can't say no, not when you're looking at him like that. Not when your lips are parted and your cheeks are flushed, and the look in your eyes is so desperate.
"Okay," he concedes.
You let out a sound of relief, and his fingers are slipping out of you. He brings his fingers to his lips and sucks them into his mouth, and the action is enough to make you groan. You rise off of him, legs trembling, and hurriedly push your panties down and toss them aside.
He looks up at you, and there's awe in his eyes, a reverence, as his hands settle on your hips to guide you back to him. Your hand wraps around his cock, lining him up, and the two of you gasp as his head breaches your entrance.
"Take your time," he whispers. “You don’t have to—fuck!”
You sink down, taking him fully in one smooth motion, and Rex can't stop the low, guttural moan that escapes.
"You said to take my time," you say, and there's a cheeky lilt to your voice. He opens his mouth to argue, but the words die in his throat. "So I took my time."
You can't stop the grin. The look on his face is almost too much. His cheeks are flushed, and his chest is heaving. His lips are swollen from the kisses, his eyes wide and his pupils blown. He looks good like this, you think, and you've never seen him so undone.
"Cyar'ika," he finally manages.
You hum, circling your hips, and his grip on you tightens. Your pace is slow, savoring this feeling unlike anything you've ever experienced. He's bigger than anything you've ever had inside of you before, filling you in ways you didn't even know were possible. You're still adjusting to him, and your movements are slow, but they're steady, and you can't help the soft whimpers and gasps.
Rex is struggling to breathe. Your heat is so warm and so wet, your walls are clenching around him, and the sight of you is almost too much. The way your head is tipped back, your eyes closed and your mouth open, the sounds you’re making, and the way his cock is disappearing inside of you over and over again, it's all so much. He can't believe this is happening.
He leans forward to press a kiss to your throat, his teeth grazing your pulse. You gasp before pushing on his shoulders, and his back hits the mattress. You lean over him, your hands reaching to grasp the headboard, and the new angle makes the both of you exhale. It also makes your breasts hang tantalizingly in his face.
Rex is not one to waste an opportunity.
He leans up and closes his lips around one of your nipples, and the sensation is enough to make your hips buck. Your pace speeds up, and his hands grip your hips tightly, helping to guide you.
"Oh, kriff," you gasp.
He releases your nipple with a pop and moves his attention to the other, and the sound you make is almost enough to make him come right then. He can’t help but shift his hips, moving them up and down in time with your thrusts, and you pull away from him to give him a look of warning.
"Stay still," you order.
"Or what?"
You raise an eyebrow, and Rex shivers. You're not sure what makes him react like that, but it sends a rush of heat straight to your core.
"I'll stop."
His jaw drops, and his eyes widen. "You wouldn't," he says.
"That’s an order, Captain," you say, and his cock twitches inside of you. You can't help the wicked smile. You’re learning a lot about him today.
"You're the worst."
"You love it," you retort.
His hands move to your waist, and he pulls you closer.
"I love you," he breathes.
You can feel yourself clench around him at his words, and he hisses through his teeth.
"Say it again."
"I love you."
Your lips meet his, and his tongue slides into your mouth as his hands roam your body. You can feel his heart beating wildly in his chest, his lips are warm, and his breath is hot, and his body is so close to yours, the feeling is overwhelming.
He's everything.
"I love you," he says again, his voice hoarse.
"I love you, Rex."
"I never thought I'd hear you say that."
"It's true," you gasp.
His hips stutter, and you pull away, giving him a look of warning, and his jaw clenches.
"Sorry, cyar'ika. I couldn't help it."
"I know."
"Let me make it up to you."
"Wh— ah!"
You cry out as his fingers find your clit, and your walls flutter. The movement sends pleasure shooting through you, and your legs shake, the pace of your hips unsteady.
"That's it," he coos. "Come for me."
"Not yet," you gasp. "Need you to— oh, fuck, Rex."
His hips snap up, meeting your thrusts, and the new pace is relentless. He's chasing his own release, and you're right there with him. You can't take it anymore.
"Please, please, I can't—"
"Go ahead," he urges.
You can't stop the cry that tumbles from your lips. You can feel the orgasm building, and your hips are bucking wildly.
"I can't—I can't," you sob.
"Come for me, cyar'ika. Come on my cock."
The words are enough to send you over the edge, and he swallows your cries of pleasure. You're trembling above him, your nails are digging into his skin, and the pressure of his fingers against your clit is enough to make your hips jerk.
"Kriff, I can feel you," he breathes. "Your little pussy is squeezing me so tightly."
"Please," you beg. You're not even sure what you're begging him for.
All you know is that he feels so good, and you're so sensitive, and the sensations are too much and not enough.
"That's it," he murmurs. "Good girl."
"I can't, I can't, I can't-"
"Shh, shh, it's okay."
He's so gentle even as he sets a brutal pace, his hips snapping up to meet yours. You can feel the head of his cock hitting the end of your channel, and his fingers are rubbing frantic circles around your clit.
The pressure is almost painful, but it feels so good.
"Oh, fuck, Rex," you cry out.
"Come again," he demands.
"I can't," you protest. "It's too much."
"You can," he counters. "Do it for me."
The words send a thrill through you, and you can feel the pleasure building. Your walls are fluttering around him, your hips are bucking, and you can't control the noises coming from your lips.
"That's it," he growls.
Your orgasm washes over you, and this time it's stronger, tears spilling over as his name falls from your lips over and over again. You can feel your release gushing out of you, coating his cock and the sheets below.
The sight is so filthy, but it only seems to spur him on. Rex grips your hips tight enough that you know you’ll bruise, and the thought sends another thrill through you. You want him to leave his mark. He fucks up into you with a force that has the headboard slamming against the wall, and his thrusts are losing their rhythm.
"I'm so close," he breathes.
You're barely coherent, but you can't help but latch on, his words sending another rush of heat through you. "You gonna come for me, Captain?"
He shudders, and his eyes flutter shut, his mouth opening and closing soundlessly. He can't find the words.
"You've been so good for me," you purr breathlessly. "Let go."
You can see the tension leaving his shoulders, his jaw slack. His breath is coming in shallow gasps, and his thrusts are unsteady. He's teetering on the edge, and all it takes is a few more words from you.
"Fill me up."
"Cyar'ika," he warns.
"Do it," you order.
"Fuck, cyar'ika," he breathes. "Oh, fuck, I'm coming, I'm—"
He curses, his head falling back against the pillow, and his cock pulses as he spills inside of you, his hands tight on your hips to hold you down. You can feel the warmth of his seed filling you, and the sensation is enough to make the corners of your vision darken.
"I can feel it," you murmur. "I can feel you, kriff, Rex."
He groans, his arms pulling you down, and you collapse against his chest. You're not sure how long you stay like that, just holding each other. You can't feel anything except him, his hands running up and down your spine, and his lips pressed to the top of your head.
“So,” you say after a while, and he can hear the smugness in your voice.
You tilt your head, and the look he gives you is withering.
"Don't start," he warns.
"Captain, huh? I didn't know that was your thing"
"That's not—"
"What? You don't want to talk about the fact that your cock gets hard when I call you Captain?"
On cue, the appendage in question twitches, and Rex closes his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose. "It's not— ugh, kriff," he mutters.
You can't stop the laughter that bubbles up.
"You're cute when you're embarrassed," you coo.
"Don't patronize me," he says, but the words have no heat behind them.
"I'd never dream of it, sir."
You can see the blush rising in his cheeks, and his eyes darken.
"That's an order," he grumbles.
You lean up, brushing your lips against his, and the touch is soft and gentle. He melts into it, his hands resting on your waist.
"Yes, Captain," you say.
"I can't—kriff. You can't say things like that, mesh'la." His expression is pained, and the sound that escapes him is almost a whine.
"You're right," you agree. "I can do better."
He raises an eyebrow, and his jaw drops as your fingers wrap around his wrist. His eyes follow the motion as you pull his hand between your thighs. You let out a satisfied moan as his fingers dip between your folds, and he can't tear his gaze away from the sight of his seed dripping from your cunt when his softening cock slides out of you.
"You're a mess," he says reverently.
"I'm a mess because of you."
He hums, his fingers gathering some of his spend and sliding it back into you.
"Is this what you were imagining, Captain?"
He shudders at the title, and his hips cant, his cock stirring to life.
You can't help the grin. "It is, isn't it?"
"You're terrible," he growls.
"Oh, I'm not terrible. I'm the best you've ever had."
He lets out a breathless laugh. "You're the only one I've ever had," he admits.
You pull back, staring at him in surprise, and the look on his face is unreadable.
"Are you— are you serious?"
"Of course I'm serious," he says, brow raised.
"But--"
"Cyare, I've only ever wanted you." His words are simple, and they're said with a conviction that steals the breath from your lungs.
"Oh."
You're speechless. You're not sure what you'd imagined the past few months. You're not even sure if you'd ever given much thought to it, but the idea that you're the only person who has ever made him feel like this is dizzying.
"I've loved you for a very long time," he confesses, and the words make your heart ache. "I never thought—kriff, I never thought you'd feel the same."
"I love you," you say firmly. "So much."
He grins, and the smile is so wide that his cheeks are dimpling. You can't resist. You lean down to kiss him again, and the way he holds you, like you're the most precious thing in the world, makes the feeling in your chest bloom.
"I'll say it every day for the rest of our lives, if that's what you need," you say.
"Don't make promises you can't keep," he murmurs.
"I wouldn't," you promise.
He stares at you for a moment, his gaze intense, and his grip tightens. You can see him steeling himself, and the words he speaks make you shiver.
"Good, because I intend to marry you someday."
"Someday," you echo. You're not sure if you believe him, if that's even possible for you, but you believe that he believes it.
"When the war is over," he confirms. "When the fighting is done, and we've finally got a chance at peace, I'll give you the galaxy, cyare. And a family, if you want one."
"Rex, I—" You swallow thickly, and he can see the emotions flickering across your face. His fingers are drawing shapes on your hip, and his eyes are locked with yours.
"I'm not asking for an answer now," he says gently. "I just— I want you to know how serious I am."
You nod, and the silence that stretches between you is heavy.
"You really mean it," you finally say.
"Of course I do."
"What happens if—"
"There is no 'if.'" His tone leaves no room for argument, and he shifts, sitting up. The new position brings you into his lap, and your knees are straddling his waist. He rests his forehead against yours, and his breath fans across your face.
"Whatever happens, we'll face it together."
"Together," you murmur.
"I'm with you. Always."
You close the distance, kissing him softly. It's nice, holding him like this. The feeling of his arms around you is enough to drive the fears from your mind, pushing them to the furthest corners. You can feel yourself relaxing, the tension leaving your shoulders, and his hands roam your body, exploring every inch.
"You know," you begin, your voice quiet, and your lips brush against his with every word. "I'm still waiting for a tour of the barracks, Captain. Oh, the hangar too."
His breath hitches, and you can feel him starting to harden again under you.
"Cyare," he breathes.
"I'd love to see your office," you continue, and his eyes darken. "You can give me a private tour, just the two of us. I'll wear a skirt, and you can bend me over your desk."
His cock is fully erect now, and he can't stop the groan.
"And the showers," you purr, gently rotating your hips. "I bet they're big. Just big enough for the two of us. We could get the water nice and hot, and I could drop to my knees..."
"Kriff," he swears.
"Or…"
He's breathing heavily, his fingers digging into your skin.
"We could do that now," you offer.
"Cyare." His tone is pleading, and the sound sends a thrill through you. You can feel the ache building between your legs, and your thighs are sticky.
"I'm already dripping wet," you whisper.
"That's it."
He moves so fast that it makes you yelp, and the next thing you know, he's on his feet, carrying you, and your legs are wrapped around his waist. He walks swiftly towards the 'fresher, and the feeling of him sliding against your core makes you shudder.
"You're going to be the death of me, cyare," he murmurs.
"Maybe," you concede. "But I think we can agree that it'll be a great way to go."
The door slides shut behind him, and the sound of his laughter is enough to make you melt.
"A great way to go," he echoes.
You know the path ahead of you is treacherous. You know there will be more battles, and more losses, and more nights where you're unable to sleep. You know there will be pain, and fear, and sorrow.
But there will be hope too, and joy, and happiness. A home, and a family, and a future.
It will be worth it.
454 notes · View notes
celestialtarot11 · 13 days
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Astro Post 🪽
Hi lovelies! A new astro post for ya’ll! Hope ya’ll enjoy! Feel free to like comment and reblog with your feedback, or thoughts. I would love to hear! 🤍
divider creds: @fairytopea
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Cap moon babies…it takes us a while to figure out who we are amongst the chaos. I think its important for Cap moons to experience living alone, outside of trauma because its necessary for our development. We crave stability and order, and when we live in an environment that isn’t conducive to that, we get unstable within ourselves. That being said: cap moons need to be alone at some point to figure out who they are instead of constantly saving people around them, or adjusting their personality to reduce backlash. Love you cap moons 🤍 (including me)
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Pisces moon, ya’ll be similar to cap moons too. Its easy for yall to get stuck to your environment because it feels safe. It feels like its your only “checkpoint” to everything feeling real. So much that when you enter the real world it feels like a dream. Doing day to day things can trigger dissociation, because you only really felt alive during the traumatic moments. Pisces babes, please if you can create a safe space for yourself to grow outside of trauma. Just like cap moon.
And I think this goes for everyone regardless of astrology.
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Aquarius placements, the need to feel unique and special can become tedious. Aquarius placements feel this way to feel chosen, and validated in their community after being neglected. Sometimes perfectionism can get in the way of Aquarius loving themselves truthfully, because they want to project an image of accuracy. So much that people can’t make out anything wrong about them. If they have neptune affliction to their personal placements, its almost about: “an illusion,” “i was never really there,” “and you cant find anything wrong with me if i never existed.” And some of them own this insecurity and work with it. Aqua placements, regardless of your past you will always be chosen by your higher self and spirit 🤍 you have someone rooting for you: you. Your future self.
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Leo sun women, you don’t have to dim your light to seem more “mature,” “smart,” and “poised.” You are the light your inner child needs and anyone who stifles that, is also stifling the love you share to your inner child. Think about it. Your joy is your inner child, you get excitement from the littlest of things and having someone constrict that: means they are lessening the relationship you have with yourself. Don’t stick around with people who rain on your shine! Stick with others who shine with you. Leo sun women are so connected with their heart and inner child, that relationship is strong. Of course it can be weakened with trauma and pain, but Leo sun women need to be surrounded by those who uplift them!
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Virgo placements knowing when something isn’t right and then dissing their intuition. Virgo pls, in esoteric astrology you’re known as the messenger of intuition and divine order! Gemini is the process of expressing it, but Virgo is the vessel to receive it. You guys know whats up immediately, and have a strong sense of internal navigation. You guys know where to find and create safe spaces if theres none, and your intuition knows if someone isn’t up to any good. Save yourself the villain arc, and trust yourself babes 🤍
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Aries rising libra on the descendant, many others expected you to be poised, graceful, and humble to the point of neglecting who you are to fit in. Aries rising I think, always knew they weren’t the type to just “fit in,” since they were young. They knew they’d be open, outspoken, authentic and honest. Even if it shook people, which isn’t the same as being blunt: it’s called being truthful. And the truth scares people who avoid it. As Aries rising grows older they hone their personality that is honest, bold and confident, and releases the codependent part of them. 🪽🤍
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Extra 🤍
Paid Readings 🪽
PAC Readings 🪽
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eatmeandbirthmeagain · 3 months
Note
May I please request a one shot where Baldwin and the reader have a tiny baby girl and the baby made it very clear that Baldwin IV is her favourite, like when she’s crying the reader just hands her to Baldwin IV and she immediately stops crying and it makes him feel so special and happy❤️❤️❤️❤️
♡ Precious Girl - King Baldwin x Reader ♡
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♡ Fluff ♡
A/N: Hello Anon! Thank you for the request, I hope it's what you had in mind🩷! As always, this is based on the film Kingdom Of Heaven, not the real historical figures. Enjoy!
TW: Leprosy
It was a late summer evening when the daughter of Jerusalem was born. From the moment she opened her eyes, Ella was most definitely a daddy's girl.
To her, there was no comfort quite like the comfort she felt in Baldwin’s arms. Whenever the young girl cried, y/n would simply hand her over to the king and her cries would cease immediately.
It made him feel a kind of happiness that he had never experienced before. Pure, unwavering joy.
---------------------
One of many instances like this occurred not long after Ella was born. Just a month after in fact.
It was late at night when the king and queen were awoken by the familliour sound of their babies crying.
As requested by both of them after her birth, Ella’s crib remained in a separate room of the royal chambers that had been converted to a nursery so that they could keep an eye on her instead of a nanny or a maid.
Y/n sat up as the world came into view just as Baldwin did the same.
“Don't worry darling, I'll take this one. Just rest” Baldwin said, gesturing for his wife to lay back down.
She nodded and did so, but did not close her eyes until he was out of sight.
Entering the small room, Baldwin scooped the little child into his arms.
“Oh sweetheart, what’s the matter?” he said gently, taking a seat in the nursing chair that sat in the corner.
After a few moments, he concluded that her undergarments were clean and she didn't need to feed. Her cries were different to a “hungry cry”. They were sadder and more needy.
“You just missed your father didn't you?” Baldwin chuckled as he rocked the girl back and forth soothingly. Her cries immediately settled completely and it wasn't long before she was asleep in her fathers arms.
Not really willing to put her down too soon, just in case she woke again, Baldwin decided to hold her for a little longer.
A few minutes went by and the young king was growing tired again. He yawned softly, his eyes growing heavier by the second.
It wouldn't hurt to just close his eyes for a little, right? Pretty soon, Baldwin had dozed off with Ella still wrapped safely in his arms.
Back inside the royal bedchambers, y/n was growing concerned with her husband's whereabouts.
She had expected him to only be gone for a little, but it had been at least twenty minutes, judging by the moon's position that she had been staring at out of the glass balcony doors from her position on the bed.
She decided to go and check on them, just in case.
Y/n wasn't sure what she was expecting to see but she still felt a hint of surprise at seeing her “all powerful lord and king” husband fast asleep on a nursing chair with a tiny baby wrapped in his arms.
She smiled and leaned against the doorframe, taking a moment to admire the peaceful scene that lay before her.
She moved silently across the room to collect a blanket and draped it over her husband's sleeping form carefully, making sure to tuck Ella in as well.
Y/n pressed a soft kiss to Baldwin’s cheek. He didn't even shift. Seeing him like this was so incredibly precious to her. Not a king, nor a leper, but a father and a husband.
Taking one last look, y/n made her way back to bed with the beautiful image of her family remaining in her mind, where it would stay forever. 
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leaawrites · 7 months
Text
Midnight hour with you
Percy Jackson x daughter of Nyx!reader
Request: Idk if ur request are open if not ignore! But could u possibly do tv! Percy x nyx! Reader? Like reader is really troubled and has a like a really REALLY bad day and percy sorta sits with her and ig you can make the rest! By @privbooks922
Warnings: crying, reader having a bad day, use of Y/n, female reader,
Wordcount: 0,7k
I hope this is kinda what you imagined!
Masterlist
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Ever since she saw Percy Jackson walk into camp, she wanted to protect him. She didn’t know where the desire came from, neither what she must do to make it go away. Being a daughter of Nyx, most kids feared her. They were scared of what she might be able to do, without a sense of knowing what she was actually capable of. Nobody ever asked, so nobody ever understood.
Especially with new people around, she ignored them, hoping they would get bored of the rumors that made the Nyx children so intriguing. But he didn’t stop. He never stopped watching her. In his mind, there was nothing more charming than the kindness that laid behind her silver eyes. A small touch from the midnight sky soothed her skin in the sunlight, making her visible and yet desirable to him. Her iris looked like the moon, so haunting and beautiful, but impossible to catch.
The night air caught up with the lack of warm clothing on her body. It was a cold night, goosebumps appeared on her arms, making her hairs stand up. As it proves, a simple camp half blood shirt wasn’t the best choice now. The forest around her was alive, leaves were singing together with the wind, a certain amount of animal noises was heard, some birds she supposed. Y/n made her way through the night, walking like a shadow through the dark, watching little shadows dance beside her.
Beneath her feet the moon was reflecting on the shallow, quiet surface of water in a lake. All around her there was nothing but quietness. It was soothing to her soul.
The day had been crazy. All she wanted to do was sit and stare at the water, letting her tears flow down to where it belongs to, letting the molecules be connected. There were too many people for her to handle, and not enough that were willing to listen to her. Who would listen to a silly little Nyx child?
A branch snapped behind her. Y/n sat straighter, her ears flying over her surrounding, trying to make sense of the noise. Suddenly, a lean figure stood between the trees, their body was facing her, not moving.
“Sorry about that,” Percy Jackson said, leaving his hiding place with a grimace covering his face. He was embarrassed that he got caught. The grimace vanished, being replaced by worry for his favorite Nyx daughter. Tears were flowing down her soft face, washing away her sweet smile and joyous eyes. Still, she looked beautiful to him. “What happened?” Percy walked farther to her side, unsure if he should sit or not.
“It’s nothing,” she tried to make him go away with her words, but he didn’t budge, instead he sat down next do her, feet dangling from the wood, his posture was awkward. Thoughts were filling up his nerves.
“It’s never nothing,” he replied, shrugging when she looked at him surprised. “That’s what my mom tells me at least.”
“She sounds like a good woman,” Y/n said, not thinking before talking. She hadn’t heard a lot about his mom, but he fought for her, which made her important to him.
“She is.” Percy smiled at the thought of his mom. Her own face was decorated by a small smile, filling up the sadness with joy. She envied him mostly, hearing how he at least had one parent that seemed to properly care about him. “I like your smile,” he commented, watching it disappear again. “Now it’s gone.”
“You like it?” She asked unsure. It was always something she felt insecure about, having someone compliment it, without being forced to do it by one of her Aphrodite friends, was nice. It was a change for once.
“It’s beautiful,” he said, smiling at her, his golden locks shimmering in the moonlight. “You’re beautiful.”
Y/n’s face filled itself with a warm redness, covering her cheeks and letting her eyes look filled with even less color. They seemed boring to her, in comparison to his blue ones, but he couldn’t stop looking at them. They were different. She was different to him than anyone else. A riddle he would like to solve.
PS.: if you have any request, I really appreciate them, but I can’t promise how long it will take me to finish the story. Since I work on quite a few requests at the moment and also have school work and ballet that I need to have time for.
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simphornies · 7 months
Note
can you make a vox x pregnant! fem! reader?? i just feel like he’d be over the moon for a baby, and i think the baby would almost look like an adroid? like not a whole tv screen, but a digital face almost like “^-^”
A/N: This is so cute! I enjoyed writing this a lot <3
Word count: 748
Spoiled [ Vox x F!Reader ]
“Vox, honey. I’m fine!” You laughed, walking away faster just for Vox to teleport in front of you.
“Y/N! Let me carry you both to our fucking room god damn it-Please?” He begged.
“I gave birth almost a month ago, my legs are going to be okay, Vox. I promise.”
Vox had been paranoid during your whole pregnancy, serving you like a princess and keeping every single demon away. You would be lying if you said you didn’t enjoy the extra love and attention. As soon as you gave birth, Vox nearly crashed the entire city down but held it together the moment he heard the cries.
He looked at you, smiling sweetly with the baby in your arms. Everything inside of him softened as soon as he saw it. The baby had his eyes, his claws and everything else was yours. Seeing you hold his baby in your arms so delicately and carefully with such love in your eyes made him fall in love with you all over again. He promised you the entire world.
He didn’t let you walk anywhere, insisting that you need to be carried wherever you need to go. It doesn't matter how far or how close, he will swoop you and his baby up and take you. You didn’t want to get accustomed to being spoiled rotten and you certainly didn’t want your baby to grow up entitled so you would sneak away sometimes, which would give Vox the craziest heart attacks as he frantically searched everywhere for you. As soon as he would find you, you would be scooped up without a second thought and brought to your destination. Anything you needed, anything you asked for, anything you wanted, craved or even said you liked? You would have it that instant.
The same went for his baby, his spawn. He was nervous about being a father, nervous that he’d somehow mess it up. But all of his worries melted away into nothing the moment he held his child. He knew he would fight for this baby. Any time he heard a cry, he’d be there in a snap, panicking about what’s wrong. You helped him soothe his worries by helping him learn how to take care of a baby. He learned how to differentiate cries. He constantly had a list of everything the baby needed on one of his many screens.
Velvette surprisingly adored your guys’ child. She enjoyed dressing them up in the cutest outfits and showing them off whenever she got the chance. Valentino was a different demon around the baby. He didn’t know how to react to the crying as well as everyone else did, basically just holding them away at arms length with panic on his face. He tried bringing them to one of his shoots when he was babysitting to which he got three hard smacks upside the head from you, Vox and Velvette.
Your child was spoiled all around.
Vox constantly cuddled up to you and your guys’ baby. He spoke so softly, caressing her with gentle hands. The baby turned out to be an android like you but definitely took some of Vox’s traits. One night, the two of you were having cuddle time before you had to put your baby to bed. Vox had his finger trapped under his baby’s hands and to his surprise, he felt a little jolt. A little shock. You both blinked at each other. Vox’s grin grew wide when he realized the baby got his electric powers. He was over the moon, gently swinging the baby around and peppering kisses all over their face.
“Y/N! My powers transferred over! Oh this baby is going to be the strongest little overlord Hell has ever seen!” He said, voice full of pride and joy. You smiled and hugged him arm.
“The strongest.” You gave Vox a kiss, “And we made that. Thanks to you mostly.” You winked at him.
“Oh hush. You knew what you were doing that night. With your hot, sexy, li-”
You smacked him lightly before he could continue. “Not in front of the baby! Quit that!”
He laughed, “Sorry sorry!” He gave you a kiss on your nose, “I think it’s time to sleep for this little one.”
“I’ll go put them to sleep.” You take the baby out of Vox’s hands but not before Vox could give them another kiss. “And then you and I have some catching up to do.” You winked.
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madame-fear · 1 month
Text
𐙚 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐏𝐔𝐍𝐂𝐇.
─── .✦ 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐮𝐞.
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counterpunch · a punch thrown in return for one received.
ೀ amira speaks.ᐟ : for some reason I felt extremely nervous while writing this,, I hope this is what you guys expected for the prologue of Counterpunch??? 🥺🤲 I thought starting it this way would be the best, to, you know, show how they met from moment zero. Already writing chapter one, by the way— I swear I am doing my very best for all of you, my loves. 🫡 ˗ˏˋ ꒰ summary : ravens come and go, threatens between the blacks and greens come and go, deaths come and go… war comes, and it never goes. you had seen everything; past, present, future. your dreams had shown you almost all about the rise & fall of House Targaryen— which gained you the title of “(y/n) the dreamer”. however, the only one who would attentively listen to your visions was Prince Jacaerys, your childhood best friend. and when war arrives, the only solace you both can find amidst all the conflicts, is in your continously blooming relationship. ˗ˏˋ ꒰ word count : 1.0k
˗ˏˋ ꒰ genre : chaptered series. some angst & fluff in the future, maybe. ˗ˏˋ ꒰ pairing : Jacaerys Velaryon x Dreamer!Best Friend!Reader.
COUNTERPUNCH MASTERLIST.
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The nearly overhwelming silence had been interrupted, as loud baby wails overtook the private chambers; bringing a sigh of relief to anyone who had been witnessing and assisting to your birth.
With a soft cotton muslin, ivory coloured blanket, a maid had gently wrapped your fragile body as you wailed. “It’s a girl, my Lady.” the maid muttered, delicately rocking you on her arms, with the ghost of a wide grin forming at the corner of her lips as she approached your mother to pass you to her. Your mother lovingly took you in her arms, relief washing over her as your wail echoed through the chambers; drops of sweat running across her features after an ardous birthing.
It had been quite a special birth. One that brought several wide smiles to members of your own House, and everyone who had alliances with your House by simply taking a glimpse of your sleeping face, or a brief glimpse into your bright innocent eyes. A birth that, as soon as it was announced, Princess Rhaenyra rushed to visit both you, and your mother— and her arms didn’t go empty, as she took baby Jace, her heir, with her to meet you.
House Targaryen’s close bond and alliance to your House was one that rooted back many, many years ago. The realm’s delight and your mother got along together exceptionally well— with your House vehemently supporting her birthright as the true heir to the Iron Throne, and having known each other as young girls. There was no doubt that the Targaryen princess would be swift in paying your mother — and you, a sweet little babe — a visit, as your own mother had done with the birth of her firstborn son.
Resting on a large, velvet lounge sofa, a tranquil expression was spread all across your mother’s features, with a toothy grin beginning to form on her lips as Rhaenyra returned back the gesture— holding a young Jacaerys in her arms, while your own small body was wrapped in a soft blanket, being held by your mother. “She’s very beautiful, congratulations.” the platinum haired woman spoke, tilting her head slightly as her gaze fixed on your features. Her grin could only increase as you would coo to her, offering a toothless baby smile.
The young Velaryon boy, who was only several moons older than you — almost a year —, innocently copied his mother’s actions; his coffee eyes staring at you with curiousity, as your coos were faintly heard in the background. A chuckle spurred from your mother’s lips, moving down her stare to admire you, using her index finger to delicately caress your cheek. “She is, isn’t she? We have decided to name her (y/n).” in her tone, vibrated a notorious pride. One that could only be understood— you were quite a little gift. A joy.
“Thank you very much, Princess. Especially for taking the time to visit us.” the Targaryen princess softly sat by your mother’s side, allowing a huff to escape from her, as she tried to keep Jace properly in her arms— the boy continuing to curiously look at you. “I could never not visit you... And your little girl now, of course.” she said. A lighthearted mood loomed in the atmosphere almost endearingly, which, felt refreshing for her.
Rhaenyra turned around briefly, directing her stare at the young heir in her arms, “Jace, why don’t you greet (y/n)?” she muttered gently, inciting her son to approach you in any possible way. The firstborn Velaryon could notice your big baby eyes attentively, and curiously, observing him as you kept cooing quietly, enveloped in the warmth of the blankets— his hand immediately waved at you in a kind manner, doing as his mother insisted, kindly smiling at the sight of you. Another faint baby grin appeared on your lips as he waved, while both your mothers observed the interactions you shared together.
“I’m certain they’ll both grow to be close friends. I can tell, already.” your mother remarked to Rhaenyra, gleefully, causing the platinum-haired woman to chuckle in response.
Both of you were practically babies, with mere several moons of difference— and despite having exchanged a simple childish interaction for now, considering how much of a close, strengthened bond your Houses had, it was most likely that you both would almost grow together and meet each other frequently.
Your mother wasn’t wrong at all, when she mentioned that you both would grow to become each other’s close friends— you had grown to be best friends, accompanying one another for every single little thing. Playing together, having the privilege of meeting his younger siblings the moment they were born, being the only ones who would really know your thoughts and feelings, and even rooting for him eagerly whenever you travelled to King’s Landing and watched him swordtrain with Ser Strong.
And the older you grew, the more accompanied you were by each other’s presence constantly. Particularly, during the moments where confusion overwhelmed you at the things you began frequently dreaming of and envisioned as you matured— almost hauntingly, as every experience you lived and went through, everywhere you went to, it seemed as if you had already been there, being left to expect the worst outcome. You had nowhere to run to.
Some referred to you as a dreamer, and others, as a madwoman. The only one who would be there by your side when you felt asphyxiated by visions and dreams, and when blood was shed amidst the growing war for his mother’s usurped Throne, would be the eldest son of Rhaenyra Targaryen.
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◞ ꙳ ๋࣭ ⭑ ` taglist .ᐟ
@damatheirin @jacesvelaryons @keiratonks @kyuupidwrites
@tchatso @mstxdes @valeriecash @cookielovesbook-akie @zzz000eee
@bellarkeselection @feliuuuksks @visenya-reigned @maria699669 @mariaelizabeth21-blog1
@sweethoneyblossom1 @jamiemydeer @snowprincesa1
@aegonswife @cloveradora @angrybirdxx @crack240 @number-0-iz
@nerdyphantomlady @julekaa @arabelllatargaryen @mduds @taylordaughter
@mikelark-muller @bailey1212 @aniisbavk1 @housetargaryenloyalist @imanewsoul
@withjinkoo @hearts4li @atargaryenlover @vulgarfuckinvirgo77 @delightfulbluebirdtidalwave
@embersfae @lady-ashfade @tallrock35 @cupids-mf-arrow @happinessinthebeing
@fkanita @urmomsbananabread @ahh-chickens @dracaryxzs @lovelyteenagebeard
@naive-daydreamer @day-dreamsinthedark @canyonmoon-2
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mountttmase · 9 months
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Still Be Mine
Note - happy new year babies 🩷 thank you so much for all your love this year I really do appreciate you and I hope you enjoy this 🙊 feedback would be appreciated as normal 😏
Pairing - Mason Mount × Reader
Word count - 5.9k
Warnings - angst, smut and fluff
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You’d never been a fan of New Year’s Eve. Always wanting to skip the parties so you could stay in and usually due to Masons scheduling arrangements there was never time for a big party. But this year was different.
You were currently in the car on the way to Ben's house. His and Masons fixtures were a little earlier than usual meaning they had time to do what they wanted this year and Ben wanted to throw a party so that Mason could be reunited with all of his ex teammates for a good catch up.
You didn’t mind this at all, itching to see some of your old girlfriends for a catch up too but as you got closer the nerves started to settle in.
You knew what Bens house parties were usually like and you were pretty sure they weren’t the best place to be having kids running around but he’d assure you that Ollie and Tilly would be more than welcome and it wasn't like a normal party of his.
You hadn’t been in the mood for it though as soon as you set off that morning. Driving straight from Manchester to Cobham and quickly stopping to see uncle Lew so you could change and get ready to go straight to the party and also drop Nala off with him so he could take her down to Mason's parents where you would be spending tomorrow.
You were tired and cranky and your new outfit that you loved yesterday now felt uncomfortable and tight. Not sitting how you wanted it too but just one smile and a compliment from Mason made all your troubles disappear into thin air.
To your surprise, it wasn’t like one of Ben's usual parties. The music was at a respectable volume and even though it was busy with most of the players, many had their kids with them and even Ben's parents and family were all there.
Your babies loved uncle Benji like he was a real part of the family. Running straight into his arms as soon as they saw him and it made your heart melt at how happy he himself was to see them. You missed having him around so much now so you knew times like these were extra special.
‘I got you this specially’ Ben smiled after you’d all hugged, walking you over to the fridge and pulling out a giant bottle of appletiser. ‘I remembered it was your favourite. Thought you could drink it out of a champagne glass and then you’ll look like the rest of us’
‘Oh yeah Ben, that’ll look really classy’ you laughed, your hand falling to your swollen belly. ‘Can’t wait to start a rumour that the pregnant lady is still drinking’
‘Yeah maybe you’re right, normal glass for you’ he laughed, pulling one from the cupboard and pouring you a glass. ‘I’ve set all the food up in there too for when the kids are ready and I can pop the tv on if you want’
‘Thanks Ben, I might have to. Tilly will go nuts if she misses Pupstruction’
‘What the fuck is that’ he laughed, clearly not up to date on kids tv shows and you were actually a little bit jealous.
‘I wish I could tell you, all I know is they don’t make shows like when we kids anymore’
Ollie and Tilly were running in soon after, followed by Mason who had the biggest smile on his face and your heart burst at how happy he was. Mason was a person who found joy in being around other people and the delight on his face let you know his was over the moon at being here.
‘You good?’ He asked, wrapping an arm around your waist and kissing your forehead gently and you instantly felt more relaxed.
‘Yeah, everything in?’
‘Yeah, bags are all in the room so we’re good to go’
‘Thank you’ you smiled, feeling him position himself behind you so he could hold your bump in his hands and kiss your neck repeatedly.
‘God guys, not in the kitchen’ Ben mocked just as two girls walked in that you’d never seen before. They were both beautiful and had their eyes on Mason immediately but given your current emotional state you felt your heart sink however Mason appeared to be none the wiser. Still holding you just as before as he rested his cheek on the top of your head. ‘Oh perfect timing. Guys this is Miaya, the girl I was telling you about and this is her friend Josie’ he told you both. Pulling the one stood closest to him into his side and you couldn’t deny you felt a little relief at knowing at least one of them was with Ben. ‘Guys this this Mason and Y/n and these two little cuties are Ollie and Tilly’
Miaya seemed nice, sending you guys a quick wave and you could tell she was a little shy but it was Josie who was making you feel uneasy still. The way she looked you up and down made your skin itch and you almost lost it when she did the same to the kids but it was when her eyes landed on Mason you felt the worst.
You knew that look, and whilst you didn’t think you were a jealous woman when it came to Mason she wasn’t making it easy for you. Mason had never once given you any indication than he’d ever look to someone else but with how self conscious you were feeling tonight you wouldn’t blame him for looking elsewhere and the thought terrified you. Gripping onto Mason even tighter and he must have felt you stiffen as he placed a quick reassuring kiss to the side of your head.
‘Nice you meet you guys’ Mason smiled but before he could say anything else, Bettinelli’s booming voice was shouting for Mason so he reached for your hand. ‘I’ll catch you guys around, I better go see him’ he laughed. Picking up your glass before pulling you into the other room with the kids in tow. ‘That was oddly intense’ he laughed, turning to you with a silly smile but you didn't have a chance to react as Betts was pulling Mason into a hug as Nadia did the same with you.
‘Look at you! You're the most beautiful pregnant lady I’ve ever seen’ she laughed holding you at arms length. ‘You’ve got the cutest bump, I can’t’
‘Don’t I feel like a whale’ you laughed, slightly envious of the way she looked in her dress as it hugged all the right place.
‘Well you look gorgeous’ she smiled sincerely and you felt your eyes sting but thankfully her eyes were on Ollie and Tilly who were standing next to you hand in hand as they looked on at her shyly. ‘Hey guys, don’t you two look smart. All the other kids are in the play room if you wanna join them’ she told them, sending Ollie a reassuring smile as he led Tilly off to play with the other kids and you let them know you’d come and find them soon.
Mason had been stolen by the boys, spending his time catching up with them and sharing stories from Manchester whilst you went and sat with the girls. Being introduced to a few new faces as you laughed and spoke about how this pregnancy had been. Most of them either childless or only with one so they had many questions for you but you were more than happy to answer.
You weren’t sure how long you’d been there but your glass was now empty and you figured you better check on the kids and make sure they weren’t causing any mischief with the others.
Thankfully you could see them playing nicely with the other kids but as soon as Tilly caught sight of you she was up and running over to you. A bright smile on her face just like how she normally looked when you got her from nursery and it made your heart thud at how happy she was to see you.
‘Hungry, mummy’ she pouted, reaching for your hand and Ollie wasn’t far behind at this point, nodding in agreement so you took them to the kitchen. Grabbing the pair of them a drink first before sneaking back into the main room to find Mason.
‘I’m just gonna take the kiddies to get some food’ you told him quietly, touching him on the back of the shoulder before he turned to you with a smile.
‘I’ll come with you’
‘No it’s okay, I got it’ you told him with a smile. Not wanting to pull him away from his friends that he hadn’t seen in a while so with a kiss to his cheek you grabbed Tilly’s hand and ushered her and Ollie into Ben's sitting room where he’d laid out all their favourite snacks.
Much to your dismay, you saw Miaya and Joisie in there, Josie’s eyes lighting up at the sight of you and Miaya gave you a small tight smile but as soon as you heard some shrill giggles you knew it was directed at you.
You let Ollie grab his own food but you knew Tilly needed some help, trying to focus on what she was asking for but a voice, you were presuming belonged to Josie, was getting louder and seemed to be the only thing you could hear anymore. Your tummy sinking with every word she said.
‘I mean does she really think he’ll stick around much longer with her looking like… that’
‘Jo’ Miaya sighed, trying to get her to be quiet but she didn't make too much more of an effort to make Josie be quiet causing her to giggle. Trying to mask it with her hand but you still heard it loud and clear and you felt sick to your stomach. Wondering if you should leave to go and get Mason but you felt a bit silly over reacting to what this random girl had to say about you.
‘I mean I get she’s given him kids but he could have anyone he wants. Like honestly if I was him I’d be ashamed coming here tonight with her looking like that. And those kids too like what must they think? I’d be so embarrassed’
You’d never felt so awful before, tears stinging your eyes as you tried carrying on but it was difficult as she tore you apart bit by bit behind you. Not seeming to want to give up as she giggled away at you and as much as you tried to hold your emotions in you knew you were about to lose it.
‘I’m surprised she even managed to squash herself into those shoes. You just wouldn’t bother would you?’
It was getting too much for you. Your hands shaking as you passed Tilly what you’d got for her so far before you felt a little hand touch your arm and when you looked down, Ollie was looking at you with a concerned expression.
‘Shall we go out, mum?’
‘I think so baby, yes. We’ll go up to our room, yeah?’ you answered. Grabbing Tilly’s shoulder so you could steer her out and over to the stairs but she nearly threw a fit about not getting the snacks she wanted so you let her know she could have them upstairs, you just needed to get out and away from that horrible girl.
You always stayed in the same room when you visited Ben so you quickly shuffled the pair of them inside. Popping Tilly up on the bed and passing her her plate before Ollie took hold of your hand and you almost burst into tears at his expression.
‘Are you okay, mum?’ He questioned, letting you pull him in for a hug when your eyes filled with tears but you were determined not to show him how upset you were.
‘I fine baby, I promise’
‘But those girls-‘
‘It’s okay, it doesn’t matter, yeah?’ You told him. Ruffling his hair before pulling back. ‘Will you look after Tilly a sec? I just need the loo’ you told him and after he’d nodded you dropped a kiss on his forehead before shutting yourself in the en-suite.
You couldn’t even look at yourself in the mirror, knowing if you did you’d start ugly crying so you pulled the toilet lid down and sat on it. Trying to calm your strangled breaths but it was no use. You felt humiliated and their words were replaying in your head on a loop.
Is that what people really thought of you? That you should be ashamed of yourself? That Mason would leave you soon because of how you looked and that your babies were embarrassed of you?
It all got too much for you, covering your face with your hands so you could have a little cry but a knock on the door snapped you out of it.
‘Y/n? You in there?’ You heard Ben call. Quickly making yourself look presentable before letting him in but he saw the distraught look on your face straight away and closed the door behind him. ‘Hey, what’s going on?’
‘Nothing, sorry. Just my hormones playing up a bit I think I’m alright’
‘Don’t lie, y/n. I know somethings up’ he told you with a sad smile before placing a comforting hand on your shoulder. ‘I heard you talking to Ollie just now and he told me someone was mean to you. Who was he talking about?’
‘It’s nothing-‘
‘Please tell me who it is, even if you think I’ll be upset’ he asked and you had a funny feeling he knew what was going on. ‘You guys come before anyone okay? so I don’t care who it is, I’ll sort it’
You didn’t want to tell him and make things awkward but there was no way you were leaving this room if she was still in the house so you dropped your eyes to the floor and played with your fingers.
‘It was Josie, Miaya didn’t do anything but she didn’t exactly defend me either’ you laughed, rolling your eyes. ‘She was just saying some not very nice things about me and how I look’ you told him, trying to laugh it off before you let out a small sob. ‘Is Mase anywhere, I just-‘
‘Shh come here’ he told you, pulling you in for a quick hug and it took all your strength not to break down in his arms. ‘I’ll go get him okay?’
‘Thanks Benji’ you hiccuped, trying to wipe your eyes and not smudge your makeup but from the black marks all over your hands you knew it was ruined by now.
‘That’s alright. I’ll sort it all I promise’. He sighed before leading you out and back to the kids. Sitting yourself next to Ollie who popped his hand in yours before Tilly eventually crawled over to sit on your other side. Clearly feeling the mood had shifted and wanting to hold your hand too and you all sat mostly in silence with them both leaning on your arms until you finally heard Mason running up the stairs and bursting into the room.
‘Hey, you all alright in here?’
‘No, I wanted cake’ Tilly moaned, and you couldn’t help but laugh at her tantrum. She really was her mothers daughter and you couldn’t blame her for missing out on cake since you were quite peckish yourself.
‘Ollie mate, can you take Tilly to go get some cake and then Uncle Ben’s got some sparklers in the garden for you okay?’ Mason told them and they were both quick to get up and rush out of the room. The prospect of cake and sparklers being far too exciting for them but that meant you were left with just Mason and you knew he could read you like a book.
‘Hey, come here’ he whispered, reaching for your hand as you felt your face crumple again. You should have known seeing Mason would have only set you off but you let him pull you up and into his arms. ‘Shhhhh it’s okay gorgeous, she’s gone now’
‘Sorry Mase, I feel like such a wally-‘
Don’t be silly baby, are you alright?’ He asked but you just nodded into his neck. ‘Come here, what did she say?’ He whispered, pulling you over to the bed so you could sit on his lap and once you were comfortable he just about caged you in his arms. Thumb lightly stroking your back as the other held your thigh.
‘Nothing I-‘
‘Please tell me. It can’t be nothing if you’re this upset’ he reasoned and you figured you might as well tell him. Hoping he’d be able to reassure you a little bit as you were feeling the worst you had about yourself in a while.
‘She basically called me ugly, said you’ll leave me soon cause you should be ashamed of me and the kids are probably embarrassed to have me as their mum’ you told him steadily, your voice slightly cracking at the end even though you tried hard to keep calm.
Mason's body tensed and you could feel the anger ripping through him but he kept it inside and just pulled you closer to his body. Letting you sob into his neck before pulling away so he could look at you.
‘I’m so sorry she said that to you baby but it’s all bullshit, you know that don’t you?’ He told you softly. You couldn’t reply, just shrugging your shoulders as deep down you were unsure of yourself but when you felt him tuck your hair behind your ear you looked straight into his soft brown eyes. ‘You’re the love of my life, I could never be ashamed of you’
‘But I’m all fat’ you laughed, your hand on your bump to emphasise your point but he just looked at you lovingly.
‘You’re pregnant babe, not fat’ he chuckled, placing his hand on top of yours as he tried to link your fingers together. ‘You’re sexy as hell to me when you’re like this’
‘Stop it’
‘I’m serious’ he laughed. Pressing a kiss to your cheek. ‘You’re carrying my baby, like do you know how hard it is to keep my hands off you? Every time I look at you all I can think about is what we did to make this happen’
You remembered it too. Mason telling you he wanted a third baby on a family walk and after trying for a while you started to feel the familiar signs that it might be happening. He was so in tune with you and excited about it this time though he managed to predict you were pregnant even before you realised yourself and when it was confirmed and you counted back you were both surprised to find you’d managed to fall pregnant that first night you’d tried.
‘And those kids adore you. You’re their absolute world baby’ he followed on, doing anything he could to try and convince you. ‘I know it’s hard but please ignore that twat. She’s not worth your tears okay?’
‘Okay’
‘And we don’t have to leave this room until you’re ready, okay? I’ll sit with you-‘
‘No mase, I’m fine. You’re here to see your friends not sit with me’
‘Well I’m still gonna sit here’
‘Well then I’m ready to go’ you laughed, standing up and pulling him with you but he was quick to stop you in your tracks and cup your cheeks. Pressing delicate kisses to your face before finally kissing you properly and you felt any sense of stress leave your body as he delicately brushed his lips against yours.
‘No more tears, pretty girl, okay?’
‘Love you, Mase’ you whispered, thankful you had him to settle you back down again and your heart was racing as he smiled down at you.
‘Love you, too’
‘You go ahead, I think I’m gonna change into something else’ you told him just as he was about to pull you from the room but the disappointed look on his face made you squirm.
‘What? Why? Is it because of what she said?’
‘Well no I just…’
‘Sweetheart’ he huffed, placing his lips on your forehead gently. ‘You look perfect. And you know I’d tell you if you didn’t’ he teased. ‘Come on, let’s go back together’ he told you and after a quick wipe under your eyes he was helping you back down the stairs and into the room where everyone else was.
They all seemed to be none the wiser, chatting away with you like nothing happened and you slowly felt yourself start to relax again in everyone’s company.
Mason didn’t leave your side for the rest of the night. Making sure you always had a drink in your hand or grabbing you snacks when you needed them and before long it was almost midnight.
‘I’m just going to the loo’ you told Mason, trying to peel your hand out of his as he seemed insistent on going with you but eventually he gave in. Letting you go by yourself but as soon as you were done and went to leave you were confronted by the person you wanted to see least.
Miaya was standing outside the bathroom door, waiting for you it seemed, as she didn’t look shocked to see you there and barely gave you a second before she started to speak.
‘Hi y/n, sorry I was hoping to catch you. Can we talk?’
‘Oh i um-‘
‘Please, it’ll only be a second. I really want to apologise’ she told you, her face full of remorse so you nodded your head into Ben's utility room for a little privacy. Thankfully she followed but didn’t give you a chance to speak once you were alone. ‘I just wanted to say I’m so sorry for earlier. What she said was awful and I should have stopped her or stepped in and I’m just so sorry if I upset you’
You didn’t want to say it was okay because it wasn’t so you stood playing with your fingers as you weren’t quite sure what to do. You’d never been that confrontational so this situation right now was a tough one for you but thankfully she kept talking.
‘I’d hate for you to think I’m a horrible person, cause I’m really not. And I really care about Ben so much so this whole situation is just a bit shit cause I really wanted you to like me’ she laughed, but you could hear the tears in her voice and when you looked up you could see them burning in her eyes. ‘I don’t even know why I didn’t say anything. I know what she’s like so maybe I’m just used to it but that’s no excuse I’m so sorry y/n’
‘Come on, don’t get upset’ you reasoned, reaching out to hold her shoulder to let you know she’d be fine as in all honesty you didn’t think she was a bad person. She’d just got caught up in the moment but you could tell she was really sorry now. ‘We all make mistakes’
‘I’ll make it up to you I promise’
‘It’s fine let’s just move on yeah? Start fresh with the new year and all that’
‘I see why Mason loves you’ she laughed, wiping her eyes as she sent you a kind smile. ‘Thank you’
‘Come on, Mason will think I’m stuck on the loo if I’m any longer’ you laughed, both walking back into the main room where Mason's eyes found you immediately. Bundling you into his arms so he could kiss your head gently.
Your legs were tired and your back ached but Ben had arranged for some fireworks to go off as the clock struck 12 so Mason stuffed you into his coat and took you outside with everyone else. You were pleased to find Ollie and Tilly running around filled with excitement before sitting down with Ben and Miaya who sent the pair of you a wink. Letting you know he had them and to enjoy yourselves a bit and you smiled as Tilly sat with Miaya as they chatted away.
‘Any New Year’s resolutions?’ You asked Mason, resting your hands on his chest and he’s wrapped his around your waist and his cheeky smile let you know he wasn’t about to be serious.
‘A few, there’s one I really want to stick to’
‘Oh yeah, what’s that?’
‘Remind you how much I love you every single day’ he told you sincerely before pressing a kiss to your nose.
‘You already do that’ you laughed, hiding your face out of embarrassment but he just used this as an excuse to attack anywhere he could with kisses.
‘Well I wanna do it more. The fact that you actually believed what that twat said about you earlier proves to me I don't tell you enough. If I did then you would have never believed them’
‘It's just getting to that stage you know? I’m tired and I ache and I look like a beached whale-‘
‘Stop that’ he laughed, pressing a quick kiss to your forehead before you heard everyone start to count down from ten. Joining in as you looked into Masons eyes and after screaming happy new year into the air you reached up to plant your lips on Masons.
The fireworks in the sky were no match for the ones on your tummy. Both smiling onto each other's lips and you slowly brushed them together and it’s like you could feel his love filling you to the brim. Your fingers and toes curling as your skin tingled and it's like the whole world faded into the background. You couldn’t hear or see or feel anything other than your man and far too quickly he was pulling away from you. Resting his forehead on yours as you smiled at each other shyly.
‘Happy new year gorgeous’ he whispered but before you could reply, the sound of Tilly’s shouts as she bounded over to you broke you apart and Mason was just quick enough to grab her and pull her up into his arms.
‘Happy new year baby’ Mason told her, you both kissing her cheeks as she giggled adorably before you turned, looking out for Ollie. Watching him come over with a bright smile and you pulled him in for a big squeeze and your heart thudded as he reciprocated.
‘Happy new year, Ollie’
‘Happy new year mum’ he told you softly, pulling back so you could both cuddle back into the other two.
‘This time next year we’ll have someone else with us’ Mason smiled, reaching out to touch your bump carefully. ‘Maybe next year we’ll keep it to us six, yeah? Us, Nala and the new baby?’
‘Sounds perfect’ you laughed. Already picturing you all bundled up together in bed and the thought made your eyes sting.
Soon enough it was time to do the rounds, hugging everyone you could and wishing them a happy new year but you could tell Ollie and Tilly had crashed and were on the verge of falling asleep so you all snuck off to put them to bed before they passed out downstairs.
The pair of you weren’t up too much longer. Spending a little more time downstairs with everyone else but the party was dying out with everyone taking their kids home and your legs were killing you so Mason helped you up to your room for the night. Getting you ready for bed before sliding in next to you and with a soft and loving kiss to your lips you both fell asleep.
The next morning you woke up to an empty bed, no sign of the kids or Mason but before you could question it the latter walked back in the room. Hair messy from sleep and you could tell he hadn’t been awake long but the lazy smile he sent your way made your heart thud.
‘Good morning beautiful’ he yawned, pulling back the covers and sliding himself back in next to you before his hand made contact with your bump and you felt the baby kick ever so slightly. ‘Good morning to you too little one’
‘Morning Mase, where are the kids?’
‘Chilly’s taken them out for breakfast and a run about in the park with Miaya, said he’d give us a bit of a break this morning’
‘Oh that’s kind of them’
‘Yeah he comes in handy sometimes’ he laughed, pulling you as close as he could so he could rub his nose against yours and you smiled at how soft he was being with you. ‘You okay mumma?’
‘I’m okay, Mase’
‘You sure?’ He whispered, kissing your cheeks. ‘Cause I’d hate for you to be thinking about what that girl said yesterday still, and I know you are’
You cursed him internally for knowing you so well. Truth be told their words had been playing on your mind as much as you tried not to let it show they’d made you feel more insecure than you ever had.
‘Well it hurt’ you whispered, trying to keep your tone flat as you didn’t want to cry in front of him again but he could clearly read you like an open book.
‘I know baby, but you know they were talking absolute shite’ he whispered. ‘You’re absolutely everything to me, I mean it’ he told you and when you tried to laugh him off he tilted your face up so he could let you know he was serious. ‘Its true. You are the most important person in my life by far and I genuinely wouldn’t be able to carry on without you. And it’s not just because you’re the mother of my children and you take care of all of us but you’re my girl, you know? Even without all that you’d still be mine and I’d still love you just as much’
‘Oh Mase’ you sighed, tears welling in your eyes at his sweet words but he was shaking his head at you lightly.
‘No tears baby, we can’t start a new year with you blubbering’ he joked, causing you to roll your eyes as the tears fell faster down your face. ‘Your mine okay? And I’m so fucking proud to call you that so please don’t ever think any differently’
‘I know, I’m so sorry’
‘Stop saying sorry’ he laughed, rolling you onto your back slightly so he could hover over you a bit and you melted as he stroked your cheek gently. ‘You wanna just head straight home today? My parents will understand if you’re not up for it’
‘No not at all, I want to see them. And we need to get Nala anyway’
‘Well we’ll leave whenever you want’
‘Mase I’ll be fine’ you laughed, your hand touching his forearm that was resting on your chest as bright smiles lit up both your faces. ‘I love you so much’
‘I love you too’ he breathed, a shy smile taking over his face. ‘I can’t believe I was lucky enough to get to spend another whole year with you’
‘Play your cards right and I might let you have another’ you winked. Reaching up to cup the back of his neck so you could pull him down into a heated kiss.
‘We should use this alone time to our advantage’ he whispered against your lips, hooking his leg around yours so he could part them and you couldn't help but chuckle into his mouth.
‘You are so predictable Mr Mount’
‘Would you have me any other way?’
‘No, not at all’ you giggled, sighing in bliss as he trapped your bottom lip between his teeth and carefully moved your underwear to the side so he had access to you.
‘I’ll be careful, okay? And just tell me if you’re uncomfortable’
‘Okay’ you nodded, a breathy moan falling from your lips as his fingers made contact with your clit and the slow circles he was rubbing into you felt like heaven.
‘That alright sweetheart?’
‘Mhmmm’ you breathed, your whole body relaxing instantly at his touch as a shiver ran down your spine.
In the beginning when you were pregnant with Ollie, you weren’t sure how you felt about having sex with Mason while you were pregnant. Wondering if it would feel like there was another person in the room with you but with Mason struggling to keep his hands away from you and your hormones always sending you into a spiral you couldn’t resist. Loving how extra soft and gentle he was with you and right now was no different. Fingers lightly tracing your folds as he kissed you before pulling back to look in your eyes.
‘You’re so beautiful, you know that? All full of me’ he breathed. ‘Gonna make you feel so good’
‘Please Masey’ you begged, your need to feel him making every other thought leave your brain and when he flashed you his cheeky smile you wanted to kiss it off his face.
‘I got you love, it’s okay’ he told you, his hands moving to hold your hips and with a gentle push you knew exactly where he wanted you. ‘roll onto your side for me’
During your first pregnancy Mason turned into a very keen reader. Wanting to know the ins and outs of what the pair of you were about to go through and the most comfortable sex position was one of the first things he looked into. You’d tried a few but as you got bigger the only one that ever worked for you was when you laid on your side and he spooned you but the only issue was you couldn’t look at him as much as you would have liked to.
He made up for it though, pressing gentle kisses to every part of your skin he could access and when you finally felt him pressing against you you shuddered in delight.
‘That’s it baby’ he whispered, getting into a steady rhythm but not going too hard. ‘How’s that?’
‘So good’ you breathed. Hands fisting the sheets as his were all over you and you moaned louder when he hooked your leg up slightly to have more access to you. ‘Faster please, Mase’
You felt him speed up just a touch but you knew he didn’t want to go too overboard with you. In his eyes he needed to be gentle with you, to make love to you, and you couldn’t feel more taken care of if you tried.
You could feel your high building steadily, wanting nothing more than to look at him so you tipped your head back slightly. Yours eyes looking straight into his and the soft smile on his lips made you melt.
‘Mase I’m so close’
‘I am too gorgeous, let go for me’ he whispered into your hair and that was all it took for you to reach your high. The warmth of his body pressed against yours making it feel that much more intense and when you were both finally done you just laid there content in each other's arms. ‘Happy new year to us’ Mason laughed, tucking you side gently and you tried your best to turn so you could give him a quick peck on the lips.
‘Happy new year, Mase’
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